Chapter Two

Inside the elevator

"Yingyue, you really are indifferent, aren't you? You can actually face him so calmly," Xiahou Yu teased.

Lan Yingyue remained silent.

"Yingyue, don't pretend to be so deep. This isn't like you—you were better when you were lively." Xiahou Yu tried his best to cheer her up, but, alas, he could only rub his nose, a look of helplessness and heartache flickering in his eyes.

"This isn't like you." A soft, gentle voice drifted into his ears. Xiahou Yu forced a bitter smile. Truly, it didn’t suit her.

He put away the playful expression that didn’t match him, gently wrapped his arm around her thin shoulders, and walked her towards the restaurant.

Top Floor, Revolving Restaurant

"Yingyue, ever since we met, there have been things—not that I don't know, but that I know you don’t want to talk about." Xiahou Yu spoke to Lan Yingyue with utmost seriousness.

Lan Yingyue put down her knife and fork. Her violet eyes instantly darkened, her lips pressed into a tight line, her brows gently furrowed, fingers clenched into her palms until marks of blue and purple appeared.

Xiahou Yu softly took her delicate hand in his, passing her warmth.

After a long while, Lan Yingyue’s fingers relaxed. She bit her lip gently, struggling.

Xiahou Yu’s grip tightened ever so slightly. Lan Yingyue looked up and saw those eyes—encouragement, anticipation, and a faint trace of heartache.

A mist gradually welled up in her eyes. She spoke, voice trembling, "You know... the me from the past, going through things like that... Such unbearable things, I can’t imagine... I don’t dare to imagine what he would think of me if he knew. That night years ago, our first encounter, he left an indelible mark on my heart—one I couldn’t ignore. Yet, all I could do was leave. Even wishing to watch from afar is a luxury." Lan Yingyue trembled uncontrollably. Xiahou Yu pulled her close, holding her tightly, saying nothing.

Her pain—he understood it all.

The revolving door turned again, and a tall, athletic figure entered. The blue hues on his neck and cheeks complemented each other, giving him an air both romantic and mysterious. His gaze swept across the hall, settling by the window, where a petite figure was almost entirely enveloped by a broad embrace.

Yu Wenxi’s eyes darkened, a sharp pain twisting in his chest. So this is how it is...

Sensing something unusual, Xiahou Yu looked up, stunned for a moment, a slightly awkward smile playing at his lips. He lowered his head and whispered, "He’s here." The person in his arms trembled, collected her sorrow, and replied coldly, "Let’s go."

A hint of helplessness flashed through Xiahou Yu’s eyes, but he still smiled and, holding the soft figure in his arms, walked toward the door.

"Hi, Yuwen." Xiahou Yu’s smile didn’t fade.

Yu Wenxi looked at the two of them, a complicated expression on his face. Behind the purple lenses, nothing could be truly seen, which only made people all the more curious.

Is this what they call "already have plans"? Is this their date? He had only intended to say it to himself, but before he knew it, the words slipped out.

His gaze was fixed on the hand resting on Lan Yingyue’s shoulder—an unbearable sight.

Both Xiahou Yu and Lan Yingyue were taken aback. Xiahou Yu smiled, "You could say that."

"We have something to attend to. Please excuse us." With that, she pulled Xiahou Yu away from that searing gaze.

Inside the revolving door, Yu Wenxi stood alone, lost in thought.

You could say that... you could say that... you could say that...

Xiahou Yu’s words echoed in his ears.

"Is this Miss Lan?" A flash of lightning crossed his mind. This voice—it was—

"Who’s this?" Lan Yingyue’s voice trembled.

"This is Yu Wenxi."

As expected, that fluttering sensation hadn’t changed.

"What do you want?" Her tone was indifferent, cold as ever, and Yu Wenxi’s heart began to ache.

"I..." The fresh green of memory seemed to fade away, replaced by a cool, distant purple. Visible from afar, yet forever out of reach.

"If there’s nothing, I’m hanging up."

Yu Wenxi took a deep breath. "I want to talk to you."

"For official matters, please contact Vice President Xiahou. As for personal matters, I have no time." Her words were as sharp as knives, stabbing straight into Yu Wenxi’s heart, leaving him breathless with pain.

"Lonely Beach. I’ll wait until you come." Hanging up the phone, he forced down the pain in his heart, stood, and set out for Lonely Beach.