It was not until Lin Congzhi felt that enough was enough that he decided he could not keep lingering there.

When he went downstairs to check out, the front desk informed him that the room had been extended for another night, adding that if he was set on checking out, the processing fees might be fairly high.

Realizing that Xiao Jingwen must have thought he might need some time to decompress and thus simply renewed the room for an extra night, Lin Congzhi felt a moment of wistful emotion before telling the clerk that he wouldn’t check out after all.

The next morning, he boarded his flight back home.

Lin Congzhi’s aunt planned to stay in Spain for a few more days, traveling to Madrid today and heading to Barcelona next. He was on the same flight home with his maternal grandmother and uncle. On the plane, his grandmother flipped through Lin Lingyu’s wedding photos, then slid her reading glasses slightly down her nose to look at Lin Congzhi: “Your mother’s love story has finally reached its happy ending. What about you?”

The old lady wasn’t being overly serious; she was asking in a playful, teasing tone. Lin Congzhi jerked his chin toward the row ahead of them, gesturing: “Uncle is still single, you know.”

“Him?” His grandmother rolled her eyes. “Playing at some grand ‘celibacy’ idea, claiming he wants to stay single his whole life.”

“That’s pretty cool of you, Uncle.” Lin Congzhi leaned over the front seat.

His uncle used a hand to push his head right back: “Don’t redirect the topic to me!”

Lin Congzhi’s family operated on a policy of letting their children grow freely. During his years out at sea, the family had indeed worried about him, mostly regarding his personal safety. To put his mother and grandmother at ease, he had frankly admitted that Xiao Jingwen had arranged for people on the vessel to look after him.

Thus, every member of his family was fully aware that a figure named Xiao Jingwen existed.

Sleeping in fits and starts, he ate a bit of in-flight food. He didn’t know whether Xiao Jingwen’s promise of “I’ll pick you up when you return” meant he would come in person or simply dispatch a car. Five years ago, back when he was just an ordinary corporate worker, Xiao Jingwen was often so busy that a single bento box would be reheated twice without him getting a single bite.

Later, just a few days after they got together, he confessed to Lin Congzhi that he was actually the son of Gleam’s chairman. At the time, Lin Congzhi had assumed he was playing some sort of “tell your partner you’re a rich kid and see how they react” game, so while nodding along with a series of “mhm, mhm,” he continued playing his soccer game on the PS5 without bothering to glance over even once…

It was only later, when Lin Congzhi came to understand his family background, that he was genuinely somewhat surprised.

During the latter half of their relationship, Xiao Jingwen gradually took over the reins of Gleam, inundated with countless projects and meetings. Previously, as a project manager, all he needed to do was consolidate project materials and send them upward to the general manager; later, sitting in the high seat himself, he began receiving documents submitted by every single project manager.

Jewelry, calligraphy, paintings, furniture, antiques, wristwatches, luxury goods, and even watches and belts worn by celebrities—estimated values, starting auction prices, buyers, sellers, certificates of authenticity…

The baseline premise was that all these materials had to be fully organized by individual project managers and submitted to him in the clearest, most direct format. And that was merely the project side of things, to say nothing of partnerships across various sectors—art museums, galleries, and hotels—where buyers and sellers had to be vetted with extreme care.

Xiao Jingwen was Gleam’s load-bearing wall; employees across the company depended on him for their livelihood, and industry partners relied on him for smooth operations.

Which was why, after his plane landed, seeing Xiao Jingwen in person at the airport left him quite astonished.

Xiao Jingwen was still clad in his solemn, crisp suit, an iPad resting over his forearm, standing tall and straight with his head lowered as he looked at the screen. His height gave him a distinct advantage, keeping him from getting swallowed up by the crowd. Hearing the arrival announcement, he locked his iPad screen, slipped it into his briefcase, and looked up at the flight number.

After disembarking, Lin Congzhi put on a baseball cap and a face mask. Having traveled all this way looking far from his best, his appearance drew a laugh from Xiao Jingwen as he stepped up to him: “Why so distant?”

“…” Lin Congzhi looked up at him, pressed down the brim of his cap, and shifted the topic: “Why did you come in person? Aren’t you running an online auction these days?”

“Grandmother.” Xiao Jingwen was just about to answer when his gaze passed over him to greet his grandmother, followed by a handshake with his uncle, saying, “I brought two cars along; I can drop both of you off on the way.”

His grandmother and uncle politely demurred at first, mentioning that taking a taxi or the subway from the airport was very convenient. However, Xiao Jingwen explained: “The escalator at the subway station was shut down due to flooding from the heavy rain, and the stairs are covered in standing water and extremely slippery. It won’t be convenient for you with your luggage.”

“I didn’t notice when getting off the plane; I had no idea the rain was still this heavy…” His uncle sighed. “In that case, we’re really troubling you.”

The plum rain season in Yu City had ended, but a typhoon had swept in right on its heels.

Xiao Jingwen drove one car, while the two trailing cars brought his grandmother and uncle home respectively. Just as he had said, Yu City was currently experiencing severe convective weather; although it was only past three in the afternoon, not a single ray of sunlight was to be seen.

Along the road, the wind whipped up leaves and plastic bags. Every passing car kicked up sprays of standing water, and the windshield wipers worked at a high frequency, rubber blades scraping continuously against the glass.

These were all pure hypnotic triggers, leaving Lin Congzhi half-asleep in the passenger seat.

The road into the city from the airport spanned over twenty kilometers. Once inside the city limits, traffic ground to a complete standstill on the elevated highway due to the heavy downpour. Xiao Jingwen glanced over at him; he was fast asleep.

His features bore the exhaustion of a long-haul flight, framed by a comfortable cotton T-shirt and sweatpants, with a few soft, slightly wavy locks of hair straying out from under his baseball cap. Lin Congzhi was actually quite a restless sleeper—during the brief half-year they had been together, while living together for a little over three months, he had rolled off the bed three times, and on two other occasions had been scooped back in the nick of time by Xiao Jingwen.

Yet sleeping in a car, he was extraordinarily well-behaved, likely because the flight had been far too tiring.

Less than three kilometers ahead on this elevated highway lay the off-ramp leading toward the Yu City Docks—in the direction of the gallery. However, if one didn’t take the exit and kept driving straight in the left lane, they would arrive at his own home in under thirty minutes.

Naturally, he had another option at this moment: wake Lin Congzhi up and ask if he was willing to come home with him.

It wouldn’t be difficult. Xiao Jingwen persuaded himself deep down: If five years have already passed, what difference does one more day make? He adjusted his breathing. The car’s soundproofing was exceptional, dampening the sounds of the heavy rain and engine into a cozy, compact safe space.

Traffic moved forward a fraction—still agonizingly slow, crawling inch by inch as drivers were unwilling to let anyone cut in under such weather conditions.

“What’s wrong?” Lin Congzhi looked at him hazily, his voice raspy as he asked.

“Well…” Xiao Jingwen had just nudged his shoulder gently after all. “It’s getting tricky to change lanes. The rain is heavy today, and cars are tailgating closely.”

As Xiao Jingwen spoke, he pointed to the line of vehicles crammed practically bumper-to-bumper in the adjacent lane.

Lin Congzhi turned his head toward the window, though he couldn’t see much clearly—the downpour was too intense, leaving the glass completely streaked with water. He let out an “oh” and said, “Then… just drop me off at any random hotel.”

“Come to my place,” Xiao Jingwen said.

He spoke directly, the emotion behind his words equally straightforward.

Lin Congzhi was quite tired, squeezing out a slight smile: “Is there anything to eat at your place? I’m hungry.”

In this gloomy, grey-toned city, Lin Congzhi’s smile instantly brightened his entire field of vision. He nodded and said, “There is.”

The standalone villa with its private courtyard was located in a neighborhood with eye-watering real estate prices in downtown Yu City. It had changed very little over the past five years; the streetlights had likely been replaced, no longer featuring the flashy design from five years ago.

Xiao Jingwen hauled his suitcase out of the trunk. Living alone in a standalone villa gave it a desolate atmosphere; upon turning on the lights, what met the eye was a spotless, impeccably tidy first-floor living room. Even the throw pillows on the sofa had been fluffed up and neatly arranged, resembling a model home.

Lin Congzhi had felt the exact same way the first time he entered this house—Xiao Jingwen, the workaholic, likely rarely watched movies here in the living room. The home theater system and the wildly expensive sofa had mostly been used by Lin Congzhi; after their breakup, they had once again been neglected by their owner, relegated to mere luxury home decor.

Xiao Jingwen retrieved slippers for him, saying, “Nothing has changed its place. Go upstairs and take a shower; I’ll whip up something for you to eat.”

Stepping into this house once more, Lin Congzhi was filled with a sense of lingering nostalgia. Giving a soft “mm,” he put on the slippers and walked toward the second floor. On the staircase wall hung small-scale oil paintings he had painted in the past. Finally, he paused in front of a three-color sketch… then turned his head toward the railing, calling out to Xiao Jingwen, who was just about to step into the kitchen: “Can I take that one down to touch it up?”

“…” Xiao Jingwen felt helpless, putting on the air of a household patriarch: “Take a shower first, then come down for dinner.”

Xiao Jingwen possessed virtually no culinary skills to speak of. In the freezer compartment, there were frozen blocks of broth and braised beef left by the domestic helper; all he needed to do was cook some rice, then thaw and heat them up.

Yet in truth, Xiao Jingwen felt a bit nervous.

It was as if he had reverted right back to those flustered early days when they first started dating.

Back then, however, the issue was a lack of experience—not knowing what dating was supposed to entail, to the point where their very first kiss happened because Lin Congzhi turned his face around to kiss him. But now—would he once again feel that he, a capitalist, was beyond saving? Would he regret this? Could this whole thing merely be a lingering hallucination produced by sunny skies in a foreign land, ice cream, cocktails, and a wedding—one that would dissolve into cold sobriety the moment Yu City’s heavy downpour washed over him?

On the other end, Lin Congzhi wasn’t overthinking things anywhere near as much.

Because he was standing dead-still in Xiao Jingwen’s bedroom.

This house had remained virtually unchanged for five years—down to which drawer in the bathroom held what item, and the shower rack, with shampoo on the left and body wash on the right. Having traveled by car, plane, and car again, Lin Congzhi habitually wrapped himself in a bathrobe after his shower and went into the bedroom to look for sleepwear. And then…

Alright, so this house did have one change after all, and that change sat right inside Xiao Jingwen’s bedroom—

Who on earth hangs an oil painting of this style in a bedroom?!

Even though he had mentioned wanting to see The Crystal Chandelier Entwined by a Python back in the country while browsing the art exhibition in Seville, he hadn’t expected to lay eyes on the original so soon. Right here, right now, in Xiao Jingwen’s bedroom, facing directly toward the bed.

He estimated the oil painting to be one and a half meters long, making it a fairly large piece. What mattered, however, was the subject matter—hanging a cool-toned, dark oil painting like this in a bedroom… was frankly a bit unhinged.

Yet it had to be said that looking at this painting again, Lin Congzhi still felt a tightness in his throat—especially now that he understood Xiao Jingwen had bought it to commemorate his own successful “patricide.”

That was the nature of artwork. At first, Lin Congzhi had marvelled at the painting’s handling of light and shadow, as well as its fluid, effortless brushwork—he was looking at the artist’s supreme technique.

But when a distinct thought manifested atop the artwork, what he saw was the soul.

Having noticed he hadn’t come downstairs for a while, Xiao Jingwen grew slightly concerned. Upon heading upstairs, he found no one in the bathroom, and the bedroom door was half-open. The moment he walked in, he understood what was happening.

“I… I’ll take it down.” Xiao Jingwen felt somewhat self-conscious.

“What were you thinking?” Lin Congzhi retracted his gaze to look at him, bursting into a laugh after all. “You actually… hung a painting of this style in your bedroom? Don’t you give yourself a scare waking up in the middle of the night?”

Seeing him laugh, Xiao Jingwen finally put his mind at ease, saying, “It’s fine. I got used to it.”

Then he asked, “Are you sleeping with me tonight? If you are, I’ll take it down right now.”

Lin Congzhi gazed at him, saying calmly, “Xiao Jingwen, it’s not like this is your first time dating me.”