Guan Ciyan had heard people say “like” before, but it was never in the way others had described.

He was the youngest son of the Guan family. Even though his mother had faded from the spotlight, it didn’t stop him from single-handedly saving the family when the Guan family’s fortune began to decline, supporting the entire clan.

There were many who wanted to climb into bed, and even more who wanted to marry into the family.

Many honest exchanges of interests took place, some even packaged as affection, seeking a bit of personal gain. He had heard many different versions of “liking”—shy, affectionate, respectful, fearful, reluctant. But Jian Yang’s anger was a first.

That pair of eyes, unblinking, were so clear that one could see straight into his heart.

Guan Ciyan stared blankly out of the window, suddenly closed his eyes, and smiled self-deprecatingly.

What was he thinking? Jian Yang had brought up the old man to attack him. He knew exactly what would hit hard; his heart was as clear as a mirror. What did it matter whether there was “liking”?

Guan Ciyan retrieved the first aid kit, skillfully disinfected and applied medication to the wound on his neck, put on a band-aid, washed up, and lay down.

The next morning, after exercising and coming downstairs, Jian Yang was already sitting at the dining table. He turned his head upon hearing the sound. Guan Ciyan stopped on the last two steps of the staircase, scanning Jian Yang’s upper body. “Changed your ways? No more sleeping in today?”

Jian Yang scratched the back of his short hair, turned around, and muttered, “Not like I sleep every day.”

Guan Ciyan approached from behind him. Standing while Jian Yang sat made it easier to notice the two hair whorls on Jian Yang’s head. His unkempt hair looked unruly, with two strands sticking up from his head, swaying in the air. Guan Ciyan found it amusing and reached out to press them down.

As soon as his hand was released, the hair sprang back up.

“Eat.” Jian Yang pushed a bowl of congee toward Guan Ciyan, looking like a completely different person compared to yesterday’s argument.

Guan Ciyan’s gaze fixed on Jian Yang’s face, catching him stealing a glance at him.

“Finish this bowl of bird’s nest too,” Guan Ciyan said.

Jian Yang picked up his congee bowl, drank it all in one go, and then dragged the bird’s nest in front of him, sipping it slowly.

He didn’t like the slimy texture of bird’s nest, and felt it was something only women drank. He said that drinking it every morning felt like sitting through a confinement period. He would stir it symbolically in the bowl and not take a sip. Guan Ciyan knew his habit, so he only instructed the kitchen staff to prepare it daily. Jian Yang would drink a couple of sips when he felt like it.

This morning, however, Jian Yang drank it all without leaving a drop.

Guan Ciyan’s gaze never left his face, waiting for him to finish the bird’s nest, and then pushed over a bowl of sea cucumber porridge made with millet. “Eat this too.”

Jian Yang pursed his lips, his eyes narrowed as his early morning swelling made his face appear sleepy. He slowly pulled the sea cucumber to himself.

His obedience exceeded Guan Ciyan’s expectations. Jian Yang had once vomited after eating sea cucumber porridge, and when Guan Ciyan pushed it toward him, it was more to test his reaction than a genuine intent for him to eat it. Unexpectedly, Jian Yang didn’t say a word and simply did as told.

“If you don’t want to eat it, don’t,” Guan Ciyan moved the porridge away.

But Jian Yang looked upset, his small face scrunched up, and he asked, “Are you still going to accompany me to the hospital today?”

Guan Ciyan paused. So that was it, the child thought he wouldn’t go to the hospital with him, which is why he had become so docile.

“Blocking me early in the morning?” Guan Ciyan found it amusing.

Jian Yang shook his head. “No, it’s fine if you don’t want to go.”

He could go alone, but if Guan Ciyan went with him, it would make a big difference. With Guan Ciyan present, the doctor would certainly go all out in treating him.

“Done eating?” Guan Ciyan asked.

“Full.” Jian Yang was stuffed.

Guan Ciyan stood up. “Then let’s go.”

Zhang Bo, upon hearing, brought over Guan Ciyan’s coat. Jian Yang was taken aback, not expecting such speed. He grabbed a bun and followed Guan Ciyan. “Sir, you haven’t eaten yet, you should eat something.”

Guan Ciyan raised an eyebrow. “Good attitude when you need something from someone, even using polite language.”

Last night, Jian Yang had stood in the same spot and cursed at Guan Ciyan with Zhang Bo.

“That’s not what I meant,” Jian Yang said, holding the bun, not sure whether to put it down or not.

Guan Ciyan had already opened the door and was leaving, and Jian Yang quickly followed behind. With Guan Ciyan’s unpredictable temperament, he might decide not to go with him if he wasn’t happy. Jian Yang, holding the bun, jogged behind, “Sir, wait for me.”

Guan Ciyan didn’t stop, watching Jian Yang try to act cute, his peripheral vision catching the small steps and the shoes stepping on the heels.

Jian Yang sat in the car, holding the bun. “Sir, aren’t you hungry?”

“No.” Guan Ciyan watched him, curious how he would handle it.

Jian Yang, reluctant to waste food, continued to eat the bun despite being stuffed.

Today’s driver was with Guan Ciyan, and as soon as Jian Yang got into the car holding the bun, the driver became on high alert. Every three seconds, he checked the rearview mirror to see how Jian Yang would handle the bun, even kindly reminding him that there was a trash bag in the front, in case he needed it.

When Jian Yang took the first bite, the driver quickly rolled down the window.

Who would dare eat in President Guan’s car?

Even if it wasn’t President Guan’s car, eating a bun in a Cayenne was still unreasonable.

The bun was Jian Yang’s choice. Guan Ciyan preferred a Western-style breakfast. Normally, Jian Yang wouldn’t care about what Guan Ciyan ate; he just ate his fill. He had simply grabbed what he liked. Now, he regretted it, feeling so stuffed, but couldn’t bring himself to throw it away, so he forced himself to finish it.

“Sigh.” Guan Ciyan sighed beside him.

But he was clearly smiling.

“Can’t waste it,” Jian Yang muttered in frustration.

“Your face is wrinkled like the bun,” Guan Ciyan grabbed a tissue, wrapped it around the corner of the bun, and ate what Jian Yang had left in just a few bites.

“That was… mine.”

Jian Yang pointed at the bun, wanting to remind him, but feared Guan Ciyan would make him eat it. His brows furrowed tightly, silently watching as Guan Ciyan ate it.

“Napkin,” Guan Ciyan said. The assistant immediately took out a disinfecting wipe from the front and handed it to him.

Jian Yang rubbed his fingers and leaned toward the space between the front passenger seat and the driver’s seat. “Brother, can I have a napkin?”

The assistant, flustered, quickly handed him one. “Young master, here you go.”

Jian Yang thanked him and wiped his fingers clean, one by one. The assistant, now with a good sense, waited for him to finish and quickly collected the trash.

Guan Ciyan said nothing, watching.

It was quite amusing, he was polite to everyone, but cursed at himself behind his back.

After Jian Yang finished wiping his hands, he became quiet, curling up in the triangular space between the seat and the car door, gazing out the window with a sense of melancholy. Guan Ciyan, rarely seeing him so quiet, realized he had been watching him for quite a while when their eyes met again.

Guan Ciyan slightly closed his eyes. Probably disturbed by nightmares last night, his energy was scattered, and during breakfast, he had been too focused on watching Jian Yang, forgetting his own congee.

“What’s wrong?” Guan Ciyan asked, his eyes still closed, facing forward, sensing Jian Yang’s gaze on him.

“It’s nothing,” Jian Yang replied softly.

Guan Ciyan couldn’t help but look at him again, noticing the sorrow, worry, fear, and a tiny bit of hope in his eyes.

The child cared a lot about his eyes. Guan Ciyan’s gaze flickered slightly. He had never seen Jian Yang care so much about his eyes. The last time they went to the hospital, Jian Yang refused to ride with him. Once at the hospital, he only focused on the medical team treating his mother, not asking about Jian Yang’s condition.

His hospital ranked among the top three in the country for medical resources, so it was impossible for his eyes to be untreatable.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine,” Guan Ciyan said coldly.

Yet, because of his status, his words carried an unusual weight.

Jian Yang was deeply suspicious, yet there was hidden hope as he lifted his head and asked, “Really?”

Guan Ciyan met his hopeful gaze and affirmed, “Of course.”

The treatment this time was worlds apart from the last. When they got out of the car, professional medical staff stood beside them, respectful and warm, “Young Master, please follow me.”

Last time, someone had come to greet them, but it was Guan Ciyan. The accompanying medical staff with Jian Yang was a rookie, and the checkup had gone smoothly mostly due to Jian Yang’s extensive medical experience.

Jian Yang looked at Guan Ciyan beside him. Guan Ciyan was about to walk away when he spoke, “What’s wrong?”

“Are you coming with me?” Jian Yang remembered that last time, as soon as they entered the hospital, Guan Ciyan disappeared. He only reappeared after the checkup was done.

Guan Ciyan understood what he meant and reassured him, “Mm, I’ll listen to your situation.”

This time, they took the green channel straight to the 27th floor, to the SVIP ward and the starting floor. Ten floors were dedicated exclusively to the top 5% of the city’s residents. It was quiet and spacious, even more serene than a cemetery.

There, Jian Yang saw the doctor who had treated Guan Ciyan at home last time.

“Mr. Guan,” the accompanying medical staff stopped the elevator door, and the doctor was waiting at the entrance. He bowed to Guan Ciyan, formal and polite.

Jian Yang couldn’t help but smile, remembering how the doctor had complained about Guan Ciyan being afraid of pain last time. “It’s you.”

The doctor adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat, “So, you’re the Young Master.”

Last night, the doctor had received a last-minute notice that Mr. Guan was bringing the Young Master for a routine checkup. The doctor was still surprised about when Guan Jingyu and Mr. Guan’s relationship had gotten better. The last time they met, Jian Yang had been an unimportant guest; how did he become the Young Master now?

The doctor immediately regretted his words, hoping that Guan Ciyan hadn’t heard them.

The SVIP ward’s doctors were the highest-paid in the country!

“Yes, yes,” Jian Yang said with excitement as he saw the familiar face. “The medicine you prescribed worked very well. My eyes feel much better.”

Guan Ciyan glanced at him indifferently. He was always kind to everyone except himself.

The doctor wished Jian Yang had amnesia, “Thank you for your affirmation. Let’s go to the treatment room.”

“Mr. Guan, is something wrong with you?”

Guan Ciyan sat on the sofa, a table between him and the doctor. The doctor calmly flipped through the patient’s history.

“It’s his eyes. Let’s see what’s going on.”

Jian Yang sat on a smaller sofa next to Guan Ciyan, the two chairs closely pressed together. Jian Yang looked up at Guan Ciyan when he spoke, and when the doctor asked about his symptoms, Jian Yang became nervous.

It was like a student waiting for their exam results, knowing they had done poorly but still hoping for a miracle.

He hoarsely recounted how he felt, the pain, swelling, itching, sensitivity to light, and constant allergies for 360 days a year, relying on allergy medication to manage it.

Guan Ciyan’s eyes narrowed. He had never seen Jian Yang suffer like this, only noticed him frequently applying eye drops, thinking it was just routine care.

Jian Yang’s voice trailed off, staring at the doctor’s face and lips as he spoke, eyes growing red from anxiety.

The doctor’s expression said it all—the results wouldn’t be miraculous.

“Drink some water,” Guan Ciyan held his hand and brought water to his lips.

Jian Yang blinked his reddened eyes, pursing his lips as if about to cry from feeling wronged. He took a sip from Guan Ciyan’s hand, his hoarse voice calming down enough to ask, “I’ve had many tests before. If it can’t be treated, that’s okay. Doctor, what do you think?”

He spoke calmly, as if bracing himself for any outcome. Only Guan Ciyan noticed his trembling hand, the expectation he had during the trip quickly dissipating.