Chapter 4: Light and Shadow

Qin Yan looked at the mirror.

After attending the funeral yesterday, he came back feeling dazed, without changing his clothes, eating, bathing, or sleeping. By the next morning, the consequences had fully shown.

Even Qin Yan was disgusted with his disheveled appearance.

He took off his clothes, sniffed them, and wrinkled his nose.

Having just been close to Zhou Langxing, he might have smelled it, but Zhou Langxing, kindly, did not change his expression.

This outfit, which had been worn to a funeral, would never be worn again. Qin Yan threw it into the dirty laundry basket, deciding to tuck it away.

After a hot shower, the exhaustion nearly disappeared.

He removed the tight clothing and changed into a short-sleeved shirt and shorts, feeling a bit more refreshed.

He opened the door and walked out.

Hearing the sound of the door opening, Zhou Langxing immediately sat up straight, placing his hands on his legs. But after a moment, he thought it was hard to make himself seem too stiff and honest, which would make him hard to like. He couldn’t follow Zhou Shurong’s example and pretend; might as well return to his natural self.

Recalling the love letters he had received since childhood, his confidence returned.

He spread his legs, leaned against the back of the sofa, and looked a little lazy and casual.

Qin Yan walked out with a towel on his head, his hair still dripping. Seeing that the breakfast bag on the table had not been opened, he was a little surprised, feeling bad about making the other wait.

“You haven’t eaten yet? You don’t need to wait for me, though. I have to shower and wash my hair, so it’ll take a while.”

“Oh, I’ll wait for you. Don’t worry, I’m not that hungry.”

Zhou Langxing rested one hand on his brow, acting somewhat serious, his gaze slipping through his fingers, landing on the side of Qin Yan’s face. A damp strand of hair was clinging tightly to his skin, curling several times like a slippery snake.

Zhou Langxing dropped his hand and began to rub his fingers together, feeling a bit restless. After the obstruction was removed, his gaze softened and slid to other places. Suddenly, he saw the bruises and swelling visible on Qin Yan’s exposed skin.

Arms, knees, calves… Some areas were bruised, others red, glaring against his fair skin like unnecessary decorations on a white jade plate.

Qin Yan was about to sit down for breakfast.

“You should dry your hair first.” Zhou Langxing waved his hand, pretending to be casual. “And put on some medicine.”

After a pause, he asked, “Do you have any medicine at home?”

Qin Yan nodded, his wet hair hanging over his brows and eyes.

He spoke softly, “Yes. Then you—”

Zhou Langxing yawned. “Then I’ll wait a bit longer. I’ll just play with my phone.”

Qin Yan noticed the man lounging on the sofa, his long legs nowhere to rest, especially one injured leg, wrapped up tightly and awkwardly shoved between the sofa and the coffee table. He thought for a moment, brought over a small stool, and signaled Zhou Langxing to place his leg on it.

Zhou Langxing looked up, his eyes bright, slightly squinting as he thanked Qin Yan.

Qin Yan then went back to the bedroom, closing the door. Soon, the sound of a hairdryer was heard.

Zhou Langxing lifted his eyes again and put away his phone. After coming to Qin Yan’s home, his phone lost its appeal. Anything, even a small ornament on top of the TV, seemed more interesting than his phone.

He turned his head toward the closed door. He wanted to pursue Qin Yan, but his older brother had just passed, so he couldn’t rush it. It was still a bit tormenting inside.

His concern for his brother’s lover had to be measured with a ruler, so he couldn’t overstep.

However, he believed time could heal any wound.

Once Zhou Shurong’s traces in life faded…

Then, he would have no more worries and would officially start his pursuit.

Before then, he wouldn’t hypocritically say things like, “Brother, don’t worry. He’s in my hands,” or “Ah Yan, I’ll take care of you for my brother.”

He would only use the excuse of mutual healing to share memories of Zhou Shurong with Qin Yan. He was the bridge between them, their common topic.

The living cannot argue with the dead, but the dead cannot argue with the living.

Zhou Langxing closed his eyes, a strange smile on his lips.

“Brother, you were right. I’m jealous of you.”

“I want to replace you.”

“Wish me success.”

Soon, the sound of the hairdryer stopped, followed by the sound of rummaging through drawers.

Qin Yan came out.

His hair was half-dried, fluffy with some natural curls, standing up in a rebellious yet charming way.

Zhou Langxing didn’t need to guess; he knew Qin Yan had used the hot air mode. On such a hot day, his chest was damp with sweat, and the thin white fabric clung to his skin, the exposed areas glistening with a moist sheen.

Qin Yan pursed his lips, a barely noticeable frown between his brows as he bent his arm, looking at the scrape on his elbow.

Zhou Langxing’s gaze followed.

“Can’t find any medicine?”

“I found some, but it’s expired.” Qin Yan said helplessly.

He dropped his arm and slowly walked to the armchair. After the shower, resting for a while, the bruises that he had previously ignored began to throb with pain. He didn’t show it, just gently said, “But it’s nothing, just a small injury. It’ll heal in a few days without medicine.”

He sat down, glancing at the breakfast table, his tone soft and gentle. “Alright, let’s start breakfast.”

“Okay.” Zhou Langxing stared at Qin Yan for a moment. When Qin Yan glanced over in confusion, he quickly shifted his gaze. He had to take it slow, not show any aggression, and not make Qin Yan wary of him.

He had to restrain himself, not scare him off.

Zhou Langxing opened the bag and took out two cups of soy milk.

Qin Yan hesitated when the cup of soy milk was pushed toward him. His fingers lightly touched the paper cup, and he said softly, “I’m so hot right now, I won’t drink the soy milk. You have it. I’ll go get some cold water.”

Zhou Langxing was stunned, watching his retreating figure, and then he understood. He bit his fingers in frustration, grabbed a cup of soy milk, and drank it in big gulps, ignoring the temperature.

He lost.

In terms of thoughtfulness, he lost to Zhou Shurong.

He understood Qin Yan less than he did.

If the dead had spirits, Zhou Shurong would definitely stand in front of him and mock him. No, even more arrogantly, perhaps with his legs crossed on the sofa, glancing over with that calm and gentle yet irritating smile.

After finishing the soy milk, Zhou Langxing squeezed the paper cup into a ball, the remaining liquid sticking to his fingers, making him think of the sweat on Qin Yan’s neck.

Not wiping his hands, he grabbed another cup of soy milk, raised his head, and drank it in large gulps, as if trying to drown his sorrow in it.

Qin Yan had finished pouring water and had just reached the corner of the hallway when he saw Zhou Langxing’s Adam’s apple bobbing as he drank. The golden light from outside the window merged with the sight of his moving throat.

That intense light enveloped the man on the sofa, as if it was going to melt him away with the light.

In that moment, he thought that it was Zhou Shurong’s soul being burned by a fire.

Crash!

The glass shattered on the floor.

Zhou Langxing turned around and saw Qin Yan’s pale face. It seemed as though he had witnessed something unbelievable, his eyes still filled with lingering fear.

Zhou Langxing walked over, and the shadow slowly covered him, bringing Qin Yan back from the illusion to reality.

“Sorry, I scared you.”

Qin Yan crouched down to clean up the broken glass, his hair falling over his ear. Zhou Langxing lowered his head, only seeing his dry lips, tightly pressed together.

Zhou Langxing crouched down to help clean up. Qin Yan, frightened by something, trembled slightly with his wrist, and a shard of glass pierced the skin of his thumb.

Qin Yan hissed in pain.

Zhou Langxing immediately grabbed his hand.

Qin Yan was even more surprised, lifting his face, eyes wide open, lips slightly parted, revealing a hint of whiteness.

Looking at him from so close. His lip lines were clearly visible, like roses that had been placed in a vase for several days. The owner had forgotten to change the water, and the flowers gradually withered, losing their vibrant, dewy color.

Zhou Langxing stared blankly.

Qin Yan pressed his lips together, showing a displeased expression.

Zhou Langxing’s brows twitched, his gaze shifted, and the force in his hand loosened. Qin Yan’s hand pulled away mercilessly.

Zhou Langxing lingered on the soft touch of his skin. Just as he felt disappointed, a sudden coldness washed over him from top to bottom, as though someone was coldly watching him.

He subtly scanned the surroundings but saw no anomaly. Then, his eyes met Qin Yan’s scrutinizing gaze.

A lump formed in his chest. He suddenly stood up and put on a nonchalant expression, saying, “Since the medicine at your place is expired, let me go get it for you.”

“No. It’s fine.” Qin Yan covered his wound while continuing to observe the expression on his face.

“Then you should stop the bleeding. Do you have any hemostatic pads at home?”

Zhou Langxing controlled his gaze, avoiding looking at Qin Yan’s face and focusing instead on the blood on his fingers. It’s natural for someone to be drawn to the red blood. He mustn’t show any pity, he needed to be cold, with a touch of impatience after multiple rejections.

Qin Yan looked down at his thumb, where the skin was torn, and the blood wouldn’t stop flowing. The pain came in waves.

He scolded himself in his mind, distracted and bringing about unnecessary trouble.

“Alright then, thank you.” After a pause, he added, “How about having breakfast first?”

Zhou Langxing, hearing this, grabbed a few small buns and quickly stuffed them into his mouth. The delicate buns went in, but there was still room in his mouth.

He reached back into the bag.

Qin Yan hesitated, still not familiar enough with him to offer more comfort, and couldn’t force himself to stop Zhou Langxing. He could only watch him gulp down the food.

Those delicious little buns seemed to hold no flavor to him, Zhou Langxing’s face remained stiff, as if freezing his nerves.

Qin Yan watched him eat and felt that the buns must have tasted bad. But they were clearly delicious.

Zhou Langxing slowed his chewing.

He noticed Qin Yan staring at him with a troubled expression. His face gradually regained some color, turning a clear pink, like a shrimp dumpling that had a hint of white and pink, mouthwatering.

He chewed slowly, finally tasting the delayed flavor.

After swallowing the last bite, he said, “It’s really delicious. Make sure you eat more.”

Qin Yan smiled politely, pushing his vigilance aside and nodded, “It is delicious. Your—I’m a regular at this dumpling shop, I could tell it’s Li Ji just by the smell.”

He almost blurted out, “Your brother often buys it for me, and he likes it too.”

Fortunately, he stopped himself. It wouldn’t be good to bring up sad memories in front of family. Seeing Zhou Shurong’s brother look so upset, he would feel sad too.

When he became sad, it would be hard to find the strength to comfort others.

Zhou Langxing stared at Qin Yan’s suddenly forced smile, and he understood it all without asking. Keeping his expression neutral, he gave a simple instruction, “Use some paper to stop the bleeding. I’ll be back soon.”

Qin Yan nodded, watching him leave at the door.

He didn’t look back. Zhou Langxing walked down the corridor.

After hearing the door close, Qin Yan suddenly paused, turned around, and gave the door a deep look. The door was tightly shut. Zhou Langxing didn’t glance back and entered the elevator.

Qin Yan helplessly leaned against the doorframe, his bleeding hand hanging naturally by his side. He no longer paid attention to the bloodstained shards of glass on the floor. All expressions were gone from his face, as he stared blankly at the green long sofa.

He saw a faint shadow sitting on the sofa.

He stared intently, unable to look away.

The black shadow was thin, its face indistinct, lacking hands and feet, with an unclear outline, floating and indistinct, as though it was smoke disbanded and reassembled.

He held his breath and slowly walked over, standing in front of the sofa, looking down at the shadow.

He sniffed, and the corner of his eye turned red.

Oh, it was just the shadow of a potted plant placed on the security window.

He thought it was…

Qin Yan couldn’t put into words how he felt. He sat down in Zhou Langxing’s position, the sun not yet at its highest, and the golden light hadn’t reached him.

So, he walked to the window.

The warm light drove away the coldness that had unknowingly attached to him. He squinted his eyes.

Humans cannot lose sunlight, but ghosts always avoid sunlight in films.

Although he knew it was just a fanciful thought, he couldn’t help but worry—if Zhou Shurong were here, would he be afraid?

Qin Yan opened his eyes, the sunlight gathering in them, his amber eyes shining brightly. He closed the curtains, and the room instantly darkened, losing the brilliant light in his eyes.

On the sofa, the shadow of the potted plant was gone.