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Shen Yan sat in front of the computer, his eyes fixed on the code flashing across the three screens in front of him, but a strange unease settled in his heart.

After delivering lunch this afternoon, Xu Zhao went back home and didn't reply to his messages.

This is very unusual, because Xu Zhao talks a lot.

Every day, he receives an endless stream of WeChat messages.

Around 4 PM, Shen Yan finally couldn't resist and left his office to call Xu Zhao.

Both times, the phone rang for a long time before no one answered.

Shen Yan's unease reached its peak at this moment.

He returned to his office, hurriedly packed his things, told General Manager Wang, and quickly left the company.

He didn't head towards the subway; that would be too slow.

The traffic was clear at that time, and about half an hour later, Shen Yan got out of the taxi.

It was snowing lightly, and everything was quiet from the entrance of the residential area to the foot of the building; everything was as usual.

The hallway remained clean and bright.

As Shen Yan went upstairs, he exhaled a cold breath, thinking that he had been terrified by Zhou Xu'an's persistent pestering.

Before the white breath he exhaled had dissipated, his gaze suddenly froze.

The door wasn't locked; it was slightly ajar.

The doorway was slightly ajar, and there was an insulated lunchbox bag that Xu Zhao had brought for Shen Yan.

It seemed to have been forgotten there, for who knows how many hours.

The house was quiet; there was no sound of a TV drama playing, nor Xu Zhao's off-key humming.

Shen Yan's mind went blank.

"Mom? Xu Zhao?"

He rushed to the next bed in a panic.

The door to the second bedroom was also ajar.

Behind the door, on the bed, the sheets were slightly disheveled, and Mother was gone.

Behind the bed, Xu Zhao sat in a companion chair.

Head down, hands behind his back.

His clothes were disheveled, as if he had struggled desperately, but to no avail.

His hands were tied behind his back to the chair, and his feet were tied to the chair legs.

"Xu Zhao—!"

Shen Yan staggered and lunged forward.

He frantically tried to untie the ropes.

The rope came undone, and Xu Zhao collapsed heavily into his arms.

His hands were icy cold as he cupped Xu Zhao's face in his hands.

It was warm, breathing, as if it were asleep.

Shen Yan slapped his face, "Xu Zhao? Wake up!"

But no matter how Shen Yan filmed, Xu Zhao remained quietly asleep.

Shen Yan's tears completely spiraled out of control, falling wildly and splashing onto Xu Zhao's face.

His hands were trembling abnormally as he tried to wipe it off for Xu Zhao, only to find that the more he wiped, the more it spread.

Finally, my hands started to shake more and more.

"Ah—!" He stopped touching Xu Zhao's sleeping face, hugged Xu Zhao, buried his head in Xu Zhao's warm neck, and roared.

After the roar came a nearly broken sob.

Tears seeped down Xu Zhao's neck.

After an unknown amount of time, the sobbing stopped.

Shen Yan tried to move the sleeping Xu Zhao onto the bed, but although Xu Zhao was thin, he was much taller than Shen Yan. Shen Yan tried twice before finally managing to get him onto the bed with great difficulty.

He then went to the master bedroom and brought out their pillows and blankets.

He carefully adjusted Xu Zhao's position, placed a pillow under his head, and tucked him in.

After doing all this, he finally took his phone out of his pocket.

No messages, no phone calls.

Shen Yan entered a number without any expression.

The phone was answered after only one ring.

Zhou Xu'an's voice came from the other end of the phone:

"Have you thought it through?"

Shen Yan held his phone, his gaze fixed on the deepening twilight and the rustling snowflakes outside the window.

"Where's my mom? What did you do to Xu Zhao?"

"Yan Yan, your aunt will receive the best care while she's with me. You can rest assured about that. As for that guy surnamed Xu..."

On the other end of the phone, Zhou Xu'an seemed to chuckle before continuing, "He's probably just tired from taking care of your aunt and needs to rest. He'll be fine after a nap."

Shen Yan turned his head and looked at Xu Zhao, who was unconscious on the bed.

Those usually flamboyant and cynical eyes, at this moment, were as vulnerable as a big child.

As he looked, the features gradually blurred, his eyes ached, and though he seemed to have run out of tears, they were still flowing.

He couldn't utter a single word.

On the other end of the phone, Zhou Xu'an seemed to hear him trying his best to suppress his sobs.

He sighed, seemingly troubled by Shen Yan's lack of understanding. "Why are you crying? I told you, your aunt is very good to me. As long as you behave, that Xu guy will only be a dreamer."

Shen Yan was trembling uncontrollably, his voice hoarse and exhausted, "What do you want?"

"Yan Yan, I miss you so much." Zhou Xu'an's voice carried a chilling tenderness.

"Zhou Xu'an," Shen Yan's voice was very low, almost a whisper, "Don't touch him again."

"Oh?" Zhou Xu'an's tone rose. "Yan Yan, you seem very worried about him. It's only been a short time, and you're already so concerned?"

Shen Yan closed his eyes and stopped talking about Xu Zhao.

He forced back the nausea in his stomach. "I need to see my mother, now."

"Don't worry, your aunt is doing well. The family doctor is on call at all times, and a caregiver is on duty 24 hours a day. She will receive the best care." Zhou Xu'an's tone suddenly turned cold as he said this:

"As for now, Yan Yan, the person you should see is me."

"I'll be waiting for you at our home within an hour."

"Don't keep me waiting too long, Yan Yan. You know my patience is limited."

The call was abruptly ended.

Warm liquid splashed down and landed on the back of Shen Yan's hand. He looked down and saw mottled drops of blood.

He reached out his fingertip and touched his lips, which seemed to have long since lost all feeling, only to realize that he had bitten his lower lip without realizing it.

His lips were deathly pale, mixed with overflowing blood droplets, a horrifying sight of mangled flesh.

He slowly put down his phone and sat there stiffly.

The last glimmer of light outside the window went out completely, leaving the room shrouded in darkness.

Only the light from the phone screen reflected in his empty, desperate eyes.

Not long after, the light on the phone screen went out.

In the darkness, no one knew how much time had passed.

Shen Yan slowly turned to his side and, in the darkness, gently embraced Xu Zhao on the bed.

His head rested against Xu Zhao's shoulder blade, just gently but firmly.

"I'm sorry..." he said softly, repeating it several times.

Then, he slowly raised his head and placed a brief, trembling kiss on Xu Zhao's forehead.

The snow outside the window is falling heavier and heavier.

Then, Shen Yan stopped looking at Xu Zhao and numbly started packing his meager belongings.

He stuffed a laptop and a few changes of clothes into a backpack.

He slung his bag over his shoulder, but as he was about to leave, his gaze fell on the lunchbox bag on the ground, and he stopped in his tracks.

He took off his backpack, bent down to pick up the lunchbox bag, and carried it into the kitchen.

Unzip it, and inside is a set of insulated lunch boxes printed with cartoon patterns.

Xu Zhao specially ordered it online, saying that she would deliver meals to him every day from now on.

He turned on the tap and started washing the lunchbox. It had been sitting for a while, and food scraps were stuck to it, so he washed it for a bit longer.

He washed the lunchbox, turned it upside down on the drainer, and walked out of the kitchen.

He stood at the kitchen doorway, and very, very slowly, surveyed the entire house.

Then, as if remembering something, he lowered his eyes, took a few steps to his backpack, and pulled out his bank card.

He tore off another page and wrote down the password.

He placed the paper with the password written on it on the entryway cabinet.

The card was pressed down on the paper, and the key to the house was pressed down on the card.

After doing all this, he picked up his bag again, pulled the doorknob, and walked out of the warm house.

He closed the door gently.

It was as if they were afraid of disturbing the owner inside.

He turned and went downstairs, stepping completely into the dark and cold night.