At the other end of the line, there was a momentary silence. Soon, Su Hui heard Ning Yixiao’s low, soft chuckle.

He didn’t guess; the laugh sounded like flirting.

Su Hui felt a bit flushed. He tucked the booklet away, returned to his room, took off his coat, and collapsed onto the mattress on the floor. The sound of his skin rubbing against the pillow carried over, imbued with the temperature of an early spring evening.

“Su Hui, you really are getting better and better.”

The sentence didn’t sound like a compliment, but with the alcohol hitting his head, Su Hui felt dazed, thinking Ning Yixiao’s voice was so pleasant that anything he said sounded like a seduction.

“Ugh…” He buried his face in the pillow. His brain was a mess, every nerve trying to escape the control of Ning Yixiao’s tone, yet vibrating at the mere sound of his breathing.

It was chaotic. Su Hui began to hallucinate in a bizarre, otherworldly way—he saw Ning Yixiao lying right beside him, watching him quietly. So, Su Hui turned his head to look at the phantom.

“Did you run into any people hitting on you while out drinking today?”

The hallucination was more real than reality. Su Hui knew it was fake, but he still reached out to touch the mole at the corner of “Ning Yixiao’s” eye.

“Yeah, I did. I don’t know why they’d approach me; how did they notice at a glance that I like men?” Su Hui said, laughing as he spoke. “So strange. It seems like more and more guys want to date me.”

“Because you are beautiful.” Ning Yixiao was uncharacteristically direct.

Unlike the fiery beauty of Westerners, Su Hui possessed a restrained, Eastern desire—the tighter it was wrapped, the more that strained desire spilled out. Despondent, decadent, fragile enough to shatter at a touch, and once shattered, vanishing like smoke and dust, as if every night were the final, uncontrollable night.

Su Hui laughed again, pulled the quilt over his face, and leaned toward the other side of the bed, as if leaning against the shoulder of the illusory Ning Yixiao.

His head was spinning; his language system began to malfunction.

“Are you flirting with me now?”

Ning Yixiao loved the way he said English—soft, with a lingering, hook-like cadence.

But he still wanted to clarify first, “I am merely stating a fact; I have no intention of flirting.”

“Yeah…” Su Hui mumbled a few times, responding only with sticky, semi-coherent sounds.

For some reason, Ning Yixiao was inexplicably pleased; he liked the slightly soft, clinging quality of Su Hui’s tone when speaking English.

Yet, he felt a surge of irritability imagining anyone else seeing him like this.

Maybe I should just lock him up. No going out, no seeing anyone.

Ning Yixiao quickly sobered up from this terrifying thought.

He couldn’t do that, because Su Hui loved his freedom too much.

Conversing like this wasn’t going well, and Ning Yixiao still had a lot of work to finish.

“Go to sleep early if you’re drunk,” he said in a low voice. “Good night.”

Su Hui heard the click of the call ending, but he remained immersed in the ambiguous atmosphere.

His thoughts were tangled, finding no center or anchor, just like being submerged in a sea bound by threads. Between suffocation and arousal, the remnant phantom of Ning Yixiao covered Su Hui like a cloud.

His tone was filled with the hot vapor of water, but the timbre was cold, reminding Su Hui of his commanding voice—assertive, suppressing desire.

Su Hui unbuttoned his shirt in a fit of self-abandonment. His hands were ice-cold, completely unlike his hands.

In the rising temperature, he thought, perhaps Ning Yixiao cared for him; that was why he helped him again and again, gave him warmth and affection that looked so much like love, and expressed worry when he drank.

But this wasn’t enough. Su Hui preferred that he still hate him, for hate was the hardest thing to resolve.

The hallucination began to expand like a dying star, constantly scattering stardust outward.

He inexplicably imagined Julian holding flowers. He didn’t know what kind—perhaps roses, or the Juliet roses he had once trimmed one by one for Ning Yixiao.

The name suited them, and Ning Yixiao liked large bouquets of fresh flowers.

He recalled their description of Julian at the dinner table—enthusiastic, persistent, likes giving gifts, a little young master born with a silver spoon, loves art…

This was very much like the old Su Hui.

Perhaps Ning Yixiao would grow to like him, as he had once been moved by similar traits.

Su Hui repressed himself, whispering his name repeatedly, like a spell meant only for himself.

In the bitter dream of pain and pleasure, he ended this lonely act.

After sobering up, Su Hui got up and buried himself in the bathtub. Indulgence hadn’t made him feel better; instead, it made him feel increasingly empty and longing.

When he woke up the next day, his head ached. He saw the gift Sean had sent again, felt deeply moved, and spent time writing him a long email of thanks.

After lunch, he received a reply.

[Sean: No need to thank me. Just think of it as a small piece of feedback. After all, it’s your work; I’m just collecting it. The core and meaning still belong to you.]

For some reason, Su Hui always felt that this Sean communicated with clear restraint and reserve, yet understood him very well.

He felt more and more that he was actually quite lucky.

Three days later, Professor White, who was out doing field research, called to congratulate Su Hui on the success of his photography exhibition. He also relayed that the school leadership invited him to host a discussion session for the freshmen.

“Me?” Su Hui wasn’t sure. “I don’t know if I can do it well. Besides, this time was an accident, private work—it wouldn’t be convenient to explain many of the details.”

When he took the job, the professor had been worried, and the school hadn’t truly approved either. No one expected the public response to be this good.

“Just pick what you can talk about and give a brief report.”

“I’ll try.”

“Eddy, the media feedback this time is very good. An art journal contacted me wanting to interview you. I haven’t agreed yet; I wanted to see what you think. I want to remind you that there will likely be a lot of work finding you after this. Be cautious in your choices—don’t consume your spiritual spark too much, but don’t miss out on good opportunities.”

Su Hui hummed, “I understand. Please rest assured.”

“Eddy, success is not a monster. You need to be more ambitious.”

The professor treated him like his own child. Few people would give Su Hui such advice, so he cherished having such a mentor and friend.

He was right—success wasn’t a bad thing. At the very least, it could keep him away from poverty and allow him to care for the relatives he wanted to support.

Moreover, if he weren’t a down-and-out teaching assistant at an art school, but someone with a place in the industry, standing beside Ning Yixiao wouldn’t feel so unbalanced.

Su Hui suddenly wanted to quit smoking. He locked the ones he had previously bought into a cabinet, intending not to touch them for a while.

I need to be someone with a positive attitude.

Opening his text messages, Su Hui was surprised to find that Bella’s assistant had transferred another large sum of money. When he called to ask, Bella said, “This is the final payment and a bonus.”

“It’s too much.”

“It’s not much at all. Do you have absolutely no idea about the market rate? Compared to what you gave us, this is nothing. Besides, you earned it with your skills, so you should keep it. I’m a bit busy now, have to go. Say hi to your grandmother for me!”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome! We’re friends, after all.”

Bella had given him a very important work opportunity. Relying on Chloe’s fame, Su Hui was seen by the public—and not only that, it came with generous compensation.

Su Hui’s internal “repayment” factor began to kick in, so he took out that project proposal and began to read it seriously.

He spent an entire afternoon finishing it, admiring every one of Bella’s sketches, only to realize that she was so serious about her work, and very talented, with clever ideas in every link.

After finishing, Su Hui went to walk the dog and bought an ice cream. After finishing it, he called Bella to tell her he was willing to join her new product project.

Bella shrieked with joy on the other end. Su Hui immediately moved the receiver to the dog’s ear. Xue Gao looked vigilant, then stared at Su Hui, aggrieved.

“Poor puppy.”

The next day, he went to Bella’s studio. The front desk had changed, but they said the same thing as the previous one.

“Are you the model here for the audition?”

Su Hui thought about it, “I suppose so.”

He gave his name. Unexpectedly, as the receptionist was writing it down, they suddenly looked up, “You’re Eddy Sue?”

Su Hui was confused but nodded, “Yes.”

“The last photography exhibition!” The receptionist was excited. “The installation art there was made by you, right? I really love it. I took so many photos! It’s still there now; it’s practically a must-visit spot in that hotel!”

“Thank you.”

Su Hui smiled, feeling for the first time the reality of being noticed.

“You’re welcome, I’ll take you up. This way.”

The receptionist laughed and added, “I didn’t expect you to be a model too. Is this what they call a ‘slashie’?”

Su Hui could only smile. Once upstairs, he met Bella. She was wearing a denim beret, leather jacket, and jeans—very capable.

Upon meeting, Bella hugged him warmly and pulled him inside, “Perfect, the stylist just arrived too. You two came one after another, which saves a lot of time.”

“Is it rushed?”

“Not at all.” Bella looked at him with a smile, pushing open the door to the styling room. “You’ve never dyed your hair before, have you? Bleaching takes a lot of time.”

“No.” Su Hui smiled, recalling some past events. “Actually, when I was eighteen, I had a manic episode and really wanted to dye my hair, but my mom dragged me back just as I entered the salon. The stylist didn’t even have time to apply the dye; I was still wearing their cape.”

He laughed. “After that, my mom wouldn’t let me go to salons outside; she would call someone to my house.”

“My god, that’s harsh. If it were me, I would have escaped to finish dyeing it.” Bella, who hadn’t received that kind of upbringing, couldn’t understand.

She introduced Su Hui to the stylist and relayed the styling requirements according to the previous plan.

“If it looks good, we can hurry and take a set of test photos.”

Su Hui sat in front of the mirror. At this stage, he always harbored expectations for everything new. Dyeing his hair felt like a brand-new change, perfectly matching his current state of excitement.

So, Su Hui obediently let the stylist work on him, chatting about this and that.

“Is your hair naturally curly?”

“Hmm, a little.”

“I thought it was a perm. The arc is so natural. Let’s keep this arc; we’ll just style the forehead and the top of the head a bit, and trim the length slightly to the neck to add layers.”

Su Hui didn’t know much about this, and hadn’t had a haircut in a long time. “Okay, just do as Bella wants.”

Bella laughed, “Why say it like that? It makes it sound like you’re a Barbie doll I bought.”

The stylist also laughed, “Hahahaha!”

The bleaching process was long. Su Hui sat at first, but gradually couldn’t sit still. He paced around the room, unwrapped a lollipop from the table, put it in his mouth, and sat by the window watching the young people coming and going downstairs.

It was late March, and New York was still so cold.

Later, he simply stepped out of the styling room. There were a bunch of staff and models outside, all kinds of fresh, beautiful faces. This place was like a giant doll shop window, dreamlike and dazzling.

Seeing him come out, Bella grabbed him to discuss fabrics and cuts.

Su Hui touched the fabric in front of him. “This fabric is nice. Sheer chiffon is better for spring and summer, but too much would be cloying. You could actually add a bit of neutral fabric splicing.”

“You’re right.” Bella said to her assistant, “Write it down. Later, pick out some leather and denim, I’ll take a look.”

“Does your hair need to be bleached a second time?” Bella reminded him.

Su Hui immediately returned to the styling room.

He had been at it for so long that he had eaten two lollipops, a small plate of butter cookies, and two small pieces of cheesecake. Having eaten too many sweets, his wisdom tooth began to ache dully.

He covered his cheek and looked at his phone, seeing the money Bella had transferred again. His first reaction was to repay Ning Yixiao.

But he neither knew the exact amount nor Ning Yixiao’s account number, so he had to call Karl.

“Karl, are you busy? I have something I want to ask you.”

Karl’s tone was more energetic than usual. “No, not busy. I pulled an all-nighter last night to submit the listing materials. Shaw gave us all the day off today. What’s up?”

Su Hui thought for a moment. “It’s about the hospital fees for my grandmother. I’ve had a decent income recently and wanted to repay a portion. You’re Shaw’s assistant, so you should know his account number, right?”

Karl suddenly hesitated. “Uh, this? I have to ask him first. Otherwise, if I send it over without permission, he might blame me.”

“That’s true.” Su Hui thought about it. “Also, about the apartment I’m living in now—what’s the approximate rent? I’ve been here for two months and wanted to pay some rent, otherwise, it’s too embarrassing.”

“Hmm, I understand. I’ll help you look into it later.”

“Thank you. You get some rest.”

Su Hui was about to hang up when Karl spoke again.

“By the way, Eddy, have you heard Shaw mention anything about dating lately?”

Su Hui felt like he had stepped on a landmine, his whole body stiffening.

“Dating?”

“You don’t know either? I thought he would have told you.”

Karl sighed. On second thought, their relationship hadn’t fully recovered, so it was normal not to know. But he was currently dying for someone to gossip with.

Su Hui was a perfect target—he was gentle, didn’t talk much, and definitely wouldn’t tell Ning Yixiao.

“It’s just… didn’t Shaw insert an interview into a few roadshow itineraries last month? Usually, the magazine would send someone to the company, but for some reason, Shaw insisted on running to Los Angeles himself.”

Su Hui was stunned.

So Ning Yixiao went to Los Angeles on his own.

“Wasn’t it the magazine’s arrangement?”

“No, it was Shaw’s initiative. Originally, I couldn’t understand why he suddenly did that. But in the last two weeks, someone has been sending him flowers every day—different ones every day. Later, the person came too, driving a sports car and waiting for him downstairs. That’s when I realized it was Julian Ford. Everything made sense then.”

“Why did it make sense?” Su Hui didn’t understand.

“Because that magazine belongs to Julian’s family. His mother is the editor-in-chief.”

Su Hui’s reaction suddenly became very sluggish.

But Karl didn’t realize it. “Later, I asked around and found out that Julian had been pursuing Shaw when he was an undergraduate at S University. It’s been several years. Could it be that after all this time, they’ve finally gotten together?”

Su Hui fell silent.

His chest felt tight with pain, as if struck by a blunt object. He couldn’t catch his breath.

“Eddy?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” He saw the stylist walking over, like grasping at a life-saving straw. “Karl, I have to work. I’ll hang up now.”

The stylist finished checking the bleaching status and looked at his face in the mirror. “Eddy, why is your complexion so bad?”

Su Hui shook his head, “I’m fine.”

He was just a little lost.

So Ning Yixiao went to Los Angeles for Julian? Then why did he come to the art gallery to find me? Why did he celebrate my birthday?

Or was it that Ning Yixiao went to meet Julian after taking me to the airport the next morning?

Regardless of which possibility it was, Su Hui felt sad.

Subconsciously, he didn’t think Ning Yixiao was the type of person who couldn’t let go of an old flame while having a new one, but he couldn’t calm down to sort it all out.

Indeed, that night, Ning Yixiao hadn’t intended to do anything untoward. Everything had been his own initiative—he had been the one to run over drunk and knock on his door, begging to sleep with him.

Is that why he wasn’t willing to go all the way?

Su Hui felt he was truly terrible, in every sense of the word.

“Okay, Eddy, this level is about enough. You’ve sat for almost six hours. Thank you for your hard work. I’ll just blow-dry your style.”

Su Hui couldn’t feel anything; he just kept seeing the Julian he had never met—seeing him dating Ning Yixiao—and his wisdom tooth throbbed even harder.

After finishing all the styling, he walked out wearing a thin shirt. Bella’s eyes lit up when she saw him.

“This looks amazing!” She even applauded and gave the stylist a thumbs-up. “It’s exactly what I imagined. It’s too beautiful.”

Su Hui couldn’t hear any of the praise; he only heard that someone from the fashion magazine was coming over, and they might need to pull an all-nighter for the shoot.

“Okay, that’s fine.”

Bella sensed something was wrong and asked him, “What’s wrong? Are you uncomfortable from sitting too long?”

“I’m going out to buy a pack of cigarettes.” Su Hui didn’t want to bring it up, his tone flat. “My nicotine cravings are acting up.”

Bella picked up her coat. “There’s a convenience store right next door downstairs. I’ll go with you.”

“No need, I’ll be back soon.”

Su Hui took the white coat he had arrived in from the rack, draped it over his shoulders, and left the second floor.

The spiral staircase made him dizzy, but it couldn’t dispel the hallucinations in his mind. Su Hui desperately wanted to shrink back.

He had clearly prepared himself psychologically that night, agreeing that if that person really appeared, he would pull himself out immediately.

But now that the person had appeared, he only felt pain.

Lowering his head, he walked straight toward the glass doors, only to bump into someone entering at the same time.

Su Hui subconsciously blurted out a “sorry,” not in the mood to look up.

But the person gripped his arm.

Just from that grip, Su Hui realized who he had bumped into, but his rationality couldn’t believe it. He looked up in disbelief.

Ning Yixiao was also stunned.

The head of near-pure silver hair amplified Su Hui’s unusual qualities to the extreme. Under the cold light of the New York sun, it was dazzling and beautiful, transparent as an elf.

Su Hui backed away and pulled his arm back.

“Why are you here?”

The look of amazement in Ning Yixiao’s eyes faded, returning to his usual calm self-possession as he curled his lips.

“Bella said you took her work, and I happen to be on vacation, so I came to take a look. You guys shouldn’t be finished yet, right? Where are you planning to go?”

Su Hui lowered his eyes. His thin upper eyelids showed faint traces of blood vessels, his eyelashes casting a silhouette.

“Buying cigarettes.”

“I brought some. Want to smoke mine?” Ning Yixiao reached into his pocket.

Before he could take them out, Su Hui turned, bypassed him, opened the door, and walked away.

“I don’t want yours.”

Ning Yixiao stood frozen in place, puzzled by the little cat’s sudden hostility.