In fact, after Zhao Ziqiang returned to bed, he didn’t really fall asleep. He was more certain than anyone that Qian Wang wanted to win back his heart.

Qian Wang might be an adult, but his temperament is no better than a child’s. Just like a child who lashes out hurtful words at his parents after being scolded, he may later regret it. He would then admit his mistake but not fully grasping the reasons behind the anger.

Zhao Ziqiang felt quite helpless about comparing Qian Wang, a competent man in his thirties, to a little child in his heart.

Qian Wang is highly skilled in his professional academic field. In dealing with others, he is always formal and polite, reflecting his good upbringing.

However, after following him wholeheartedly for so many years, how could Zhao Ziqiang not see through his flaws? Qian Wang’s biggest problem, as the elders often say, is that he lacks emotional depth.

It’s not that he’s cold-blooded or emotionless; rather, his emotions are often dull and require something external to stir them.

Qian Wang has a strong ability to imitate. In the past, when he followed Zhao Ziqiang while watching dramas, he would often see some bizarre romantic scenes and immediately learn them to perform for Zhao Ziqiang. Zhao Ziqiang, being an emotional person, was particularly taken by this, especially since Qian Wang could mimic even the nuances of gaze, looking deeply affectionate.

Whenever Qian Wang is praised, he becomes so proud that it feels like his tail could reach the sky. Over time, Qian Wang begins to realize his own special talent, becoming more skilled at navigating social interactions, as if he’s following a perfect script. He only remembers to let his guard down when he gets home.

This behavior is very much like that of a playful child.

He doesn’t know how to take care of others’ feelings. Zhao Ziqiang understands this. Some people enjoy receiving the highest praise in front of others, preferably being seen as cultured and well-mannered. Yet, the closer they are to someone, the more recklessly they hurt them, believing that those who are closest won’t be offended—no matter how harsh the words or hurtful the actions.

In the past, Zhao Ziqiang truly didn’t mind, and could even say he enjoyed it. It wasn’t out of self-deprecation but rather the unique opportunity to experience his lover’s true self. Who wouldn’t want to cherish that?

Tossing and turning in the hospital bed, Zhao Ziqiang’s thoughts became increasingly muddled, and by this point, he was already quite confused.

If he had been able to accept this kind of hurt before, then why was he so stubborn about not looking back now? It seemed like he had trapped himself in a dead end.

It wasn’t until he drifted into a hazy state of sleep that he suddenly jolted awake, aware that this time, the hurt was different. Qian Wang could be inconsiderate when he was infatuated with him—disregarding his feelings, venting his anger, even shoving him. Even if he lashed out in frustration, none of it seemed like a big deal—nothing that couldn’t be forgiven.

But Qian Wang cannot take the love he gave him wholeheartedly only to discard it so easily. He cannot trample on his heart like it was nothing. This is the pain that Zhao Ziqiang finds impossible to bear.

Even though he had come to terms with this matter, Zhao Ziqiang still felt frustrated as he buried his head under the covers. Every time he got close to Qian Wang again, he realized that his resentment couldn’t be communicated to him at all. That feeling of unrequited emotion left him feeling powerless and dejected. Yet, he knew deep down that some things couldn’t be blamed on Qian Wang because he didn’t even understand them.

Just like Sun Kan, Zhao Ziqiang had known from the very beginning that Qian Wang was only playing around. This was inevitable; Qian Wang couldn’t fall in love with someone so quickly. Wasn’t he himself in the same position at first? If he hadn’t devoted himself so wholeheartedly to surrounding himself with Qian Wang for all these years, perhaps his own significance would have been nothing more than trivial.

In Zhao Ziqiang’s view, Qian Wang would never truly love anyone; he only had likes and dislikes, habits and dishabits. No matter how much Zhao Ziqiang wanted to reclaim himself, Qian Wang would still domineeringly rush in and confine him, forcing him into submission. Even if he lowered his head to apologize, it was likely just a result of hastily learning from a few videos. Qian Wang didn’t understand the deeper feelings behind it at all.

He could at most manage to do just that; he would never grow up. He would always need a caring, devoted mother figure who wouldn’t leave him, regardless of who that person was.

After venting his frustrations about Qian Wang in his mind, Zhao Ziqiang finally began to calm down and drifted off to sleep. Meanwhile, Qian Wang, on the other hand, remained wide awake throughout the night.

As he experienced the novelty of his first insomnia, Qian Wang pondered in confusion about what to do next. He realized that the person he had just treated lightly seemed to embody not only anger and embarrassment but also… a hint of disappointment.

Qian Wang thought about it all night, and it wasn’t until he heard a faint rustling from Zhao Mother’s bed at dawn that he began to understand.

He certainly shouldn’t have acted so intimately in front of someone else’s mother, but wasn’t she asleep? As he thought about this, he started to feel confused again. It wasn’t until Zhao Ziqiang rolled out of bed and headed to the bathroom that he instinctively got up to follow him.

Having not slept all night, he was still feeling a bit groggy. As he accompanied Zhao Ziqiang into the bathroom, he didn’t even know what he wanted to say; he just felt the need to apologize for whatever he could think of.

“Uh, I’m sorry.”

Zhao Ziqiang hadn’t slept well all night, tossing and turning with annoying dreams, and his headache was unbearable. Naturally, he was in no mood to deal with Qian Wang.

“Just say what you need to say clearly. Who taught you to be so vague?”

His tone of reprimand, which was typical of when he used to act coy, felt perfectly fine to Qian Wang. His eyes suddenly lit up.

“I shouldn’t have acted that way in front of your mom yesterday… I just missed you too much and didn’t think it through.”

He let out a sigh.

“Is that all you were thinking about at the time? Have you ever considered my feelings? Qian Wang, relationships are mutual; it’s not possible for one person to keep accommodating the other. Even if I forgive you, how do you plan to move forward? Are you just going to continue being the charming professor, coming home to enjoy every service I provide? Have you ever thought about… how people need to change in order to survive?”

Zhao Ziqiang had always been Qian Wang’s student. After their breakup, although Qian Wang felt that Zhao Ziqiang’s temperament had become more intense, he also realized that for the first time in a long while, they were both standing on the same level, engaging in a fair exchange. As a result, he softened his tone even more.

“Zhao Ziqiang…”

“And I happen to think that this change is quite good. I’m doing the things I want to do, and I can consider every issue from my own perspective as much as possible. Look at me—I’m finally starting to feel happy.”

Qian Wang found it hard to digest such philosophical statements all at once, leaving him standing there with a furrowed brow, lost in thought. It wasn’t until Zhao Ziqiang, who was about to take off his pants, pushed him out the door that he finally snapped back to reality.

As for Zhao Ziqiang, he understood that he wasn’t some enlightened saint nor had he gained any profound insights. He was just an ordinary person, but there was a unique satisfaction in witnessing someone who once stood so high felt lost and defeated. It brought him a sense of enjoyment that he couldn’t deny.