“No, It won’t.” Sui Yuesheng shook his head with a smile, “I don’t have any meetings tomorrow, so I can arrive at the office whenever I want.”

“No one dares to check my attendance anyway.” As if fearing Tao Fengche wouldn’t agree, he even cracked a joke.

Tao Fengche laughed as well, “Alright.”

“Then it’s settled.” Sui Yuesheng folded the internship certificate and placed it on the table. Just as he was about to leave, he suddenly remembered something and turned back to remind, “You need to wake up early for school tomorrow. Don’t stay up too late playing games. Remember to go to bed early.”

Tao Fengche: “…!”

His face flushed red, embarrassed beyond belief. “I’m not playing anymore!”

Sui Yuesheng’s eyes glanced at the computer monitor that had abruptly turned off. He smiled indulgently, “If you say you weren’t playing, then you weren’t.”

His tone had a fatherly authority, but his teasing eyes betrayed the truth behind his words.

Tao Fengche’s mind short-circuited. Before he could think of a rebuttal, Sui Yuesheng, knowing when to stop teasing, turned around, waved a hand, and said, “Good night, Xiao Che.”

He quietly closed the bedroom door behind him.

Tao Fengche: “…”

He sat there dazed for a while, finally grabbing the mouse in frustration. He right-clicked the game icon on his desktop, ready to uninstall it in one go. But after a moment of hesitation, he only moved the shortcut to the recycle bin.

It was a completely useless act of self-deception, but after doing it, he felt a strange sense of relief, as if he had found some form of redemption.

He sent a message to Wang Yuan, not mentioning the earlier conversation but simply saying that he got caught playing games by Sui Yuesheng, disconnected due to “unavoidable circumstances,” and wouldn’t be playing anymore today.

Wang Yuan, who had just been angrily cursing Tao Fengche for AFKing in the middle of a boss fight and causing the team to wipe, quickly forgot his grievances upon receiving the message. He replied with a long string of empathy and consolation, filled with the camaraderie of comrades in misfortune.

Tao Fengche pretended not to notice the sympathy, nor the subtle superiority of “Wow, even Tao Ge gets controlled at home.” He replied with a few emoji, packed his schoolbag, went downstairs to heat some milk, and ran on the treadmill for half an hour before returning to his room to wash up.

By the time he was done, it was nearly midnight. Lying in bed, wrapped in soft blankets, just as he was about to drift off to sleep, he suddenly shot up in bed, wide-eyed in shock.

—Wait, does that mean Sui Yuesheng is really going to take him to school tomorrow?!

The little devil doing somersaults in his mind turned as red as a freshly steamed crab, so hot that little wisps of white smoke rose from its head. Then it collapsed with a thud, its heart-shaped tail twitching uselessly before going still.

…

The next morning, Tao Fengche, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night, groggily descended the stairs and made his way to the dining room. Unexpectedly, he ran straight into Sui Yuesheng.

Sui Yuesheng was sitting in the seat directly facing the door. He wasn’t wearing his signature three-piece suit but a casual black shirt with the top two buttons undone, revealing a glimpse of his collarbone. His sleeves were rolled up, and from this angle, Tao Fengche couldn’t see his pants, only the food in front of him—

A few steamed buns sat in a wooden basket, and Sui Yuesheng was leisurely sipping a bowl of scallop and shrimp congee.

Maybe his pants were casual too? Tao Fengche thought absentmindedly.

The autumn morning sunlight was just right—not as scorching as mid-summer, nor as cold as mid-winter. The light streaming in through the windows cast a golden glow on everything, filling the room with warmth like a mother’s embrace.

Sui Yuesheng’s hair, as always, was loose. The sunlight made his light gray strands even paler, and amidst the sea of black-haired, dark-eyed people from Kyushu, he stood out even more, almost otherworldly.

Tao Fengche had not expected to see such a scene so early in the morning. His throat tightened, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he tried to act calm. “Good morning, Ge.”

“Morning, Xiao Che.” Sui Yuesheng swallowed his congee and looked up with a smile. “It’s autumn now. The kitchen made some crab roe buns. They’re quite good, want to try some?”

“Uh… sure.” Tao Fengche nodded dazedly, feeling too nervous to look Sui Yuesheng in the eyes.

Ten years ago, Tao Fengche knew that Sui Yuesheng’s eyes were beautiful.

The slightly upturned corners gave them a flirtatious quality, their gray-blue hue shifting with the light, sometimes even appearing green.

At both eight and eighteen years old, Tao Fengche thought that Sui Yuesheng’s eyes were the most beautiful at this very moment—bathed in sunlight, they turned a mesmerizing cobalt blue, more captivating than the most stunning chemical reactions he had ever seen.

Tao Fengche felt dazed under his gaze, like he had been kissed by a dementor, robotically sitting down and stuffing a whole bun into his mouth.

The scalding hot soup exploded in his mouth, making him shudder reflexively.

“It’s… delicious!” Tao Fengche managed to say, struggling to suppress the urge to spit out the food.

Great, now his tongue was definitely going to blister. He groaned inwardly.

Sitting across from him, Sui Yuesheng was amused—why was he in such a hurry?

“Slow down, I’m not going to steal it from you.” Sui Yuesheng put down his spoon, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and stood up. “It’s still early, take your time. I’m going upstairs to change.”

Tao Fengche kept his head down, still embarrassed from earlier, and nodded hurriedly.

From the first moment he saw Sui Yuesheng this morning, he had known this would happen.

Sui Yuesheng had a mild case of OCD, which led to habits that seemed odd to others—one of which was this: if he needed to go out, and the conditions allowed, he would change clothes after breakfast to avoid smelling like food all day.

But if he was staying home, he didn’t mind wearing the same clothes all day. One of the reasons Tao Fengche had been so attached to him as a child was the sweet scent of milk and food that lingered around his brother.

But if they left the house, whether it was to shop or just take a walk, Sui Yuesheng would always change, and Tao Fengche had long been used to waiting for him.

But this time was different.

As soon as Sui Yuesheng disappeared up the stairs, Tao Fengche quickly looked around to make sure he was out of sight. Then, he stuck out his tongue to cool it, looking a bit like a large dog.

Xu Song, trying to hold back laughter, handed him a glass of cold milk. Tao Fengche took it gratefully, swishing it in his mouth until the burning sensation subsided enough for him to eat again.

With the earlier lesson in mind, he carefully poked a small hole in the next bun to sip the broth. As he did, a strange thought popped into his head—his waiting for Sui Yuesheng to change clothes now was like a husband waiting for his newlywed wife to join him for work.

…What the hell?

Wait, Tao Fengche, what the hell are you thinking?!

Realizing how ridiculous his thoughts had become, Tao Fengche felt his mind spiral into chaos. He tried to shove the strange idea away, but he couldn’t help smiling at the images it conjured.

“What’s got you smiling so happily?”

The object of his thoughts, Sui Yuesheng, walked down the stairs, teasing him.

Sui Yuesheng looked elegant now. He had changed into a deep blue suit, with a perfectly tied matching tie. His waistcoat fit impeccably, and the cufflinks, the same shade as his eyes, gleamed in the sunlight.

It was a classic business attire, common among the young elites in Jingpu’s CBD.

But only Sui Yuesheng wore a jade ring on his thumb, only he had such romantically curly hair, and only he possessed a face so different from the people of Kyushu.

…He was wrapped in a proper suit, covered head to toe, with not an inch of skin exposed, yet he was still breathtakingly beautiful, like a poppy flower swaying in the wind.

And still, he made Tao Fengche’s heart race and his head spin.

The loose cut of his school uniform pants had even allowed him to wear thermal underwear last winter, thanks to Xu Song’s insistence. But now, Tao Fengche suddenly felt the pants were too tight.

The table was covered with a cloth, and unless Sui Yuesheng had X-ray vision, there was no way he could notice anything unusual. Yet the heightened alertness of a teenage boy in the morning made Tao Fengche shift his posture anyway.

He fought to suppress his growing smile, lowering his gaze as if deeply interested in the bamboo steamers, before finally shaking his head in feigned seriousness. “Nothing.”

The mask on his face wasn’t perfectly worn; Sui Yuesheng noticed the flaw but thoughtfully didn’t expose it.

Tao Fengche, being of considerable age, naturally has some personal secrets. Although feeling a bit melancholic, Sui Yuesheng understood.

After all, even he had a lot of things he couldn’t tell Tao Fengche.

Sui Yuesheng smiled, refraining from further inquiry, and pretended to be successfully deceived: “Take your time eating; I’ll wait for you in the car.”