An Yi leaned against the door, trembling uncontrollably.

How could he forget?

For the past five years, every September 9th was more important to him than the Spring Festival.

This time last year, he specifically took a day off to go to the supermarket for groceries. He prepared and cooked according to Yan Chen’s preferences in the afternoon, exhausted himself setting up a table full of dishes.

However, he waited until late at night and didn’t see Yan Chen. No one answered the phone, not even an explanation.

Yan Chen was Yan Chen, always free to come and go as he pleased.

Even though An Yi used to willingly give everything, looking back now, he couldn’t help but feel resentful.

Yan Chen had long seen through his cards, confident that he would always have the upper hand in this emotional tug-of-war, which was why he intentionally chose today to appear, trying to soften him.

An Yi felt a chill in his heart.

Clearly, they could have nurtured their relationship well together before. Why did they have to wait until it was lost before pretending to be affectionate and forcefully trying to keep it?

Was it a desire for control, unwillingness to accept someone else ending the relationship first, or simply an inability to adapt to not having unconditional compliance and love from him by his side?

In the end, Yan Chen only cared about himself.

When a toy is taken away, he has to snatch it back.

In the past, An Yi’s gaze was not allowed to turn to anyone else.

Yan Chen would never deeply realize how much heartache and disappointment he had accumulated before deciding to leave. He was also completely unaware that his repeated entanglement was actually repeatedly tearing open An Yi’s wounds.

An Yi buried his head in the bouquet of roses, the strong floral scent filling his nostrils, and he gradually calmed down.

The flowers Xie Nancang had sent last time had already withered, so it was good to have new ones to replace them.

After trimming the flower branches, arranging them in a vase, he leaned over the table and practiced porcelain painting.

The control pen required drawing straight parallel lines or concentric circles on the smooth glazed surface. He used to be able to draw a whole surface with precision and neatness, comparable to a mechanical print without any trembling. But today, his mind was elsewhere, and the lines he drew began to waver.

He glanced through the peephole and saw that Yan Chen was no longer outside the door.

He breathed a sigh of relief, went to the balcony to close the window and prepare for bed, but saw a tall figure standing under the street lamp downstairs, smoking in the drizzle.

Because the floor was too high, An Yi couldn’t see the person’s face clearly, but judging from the clothes, it should be Yan Chen.

He closed the curtains, turned off the light after washing up, climbed into bed in the dark, and covered himself with a thin blanket.

Outside, thunder rumbled in the autumn sky, and the rain gradually intensified. Raindrops pattered against the window, and An Yi lay quietly for a while, unable to sleep.

It had been a long time since he had relied on medication to fall asleep, but today he felt the urge to take some.

After tossing and turning several times, he turned on the night light, took out An Ya’s notebook, and flipped through it.

He used to be afraid of being reminded of her, so he never dared to look through it; but now whenever he felt sad, he loved to take it out and read it. His mentality would become much calmer, always feeling that An Ya was still here, just accompAn Ying him in a different way.

An Ya had always liked Yan Chen.

There were sporadic mentions of him in her notebook.

Yan Chen would accompany her to play games, help her choose clothes, know which celebrity she liked, and then get autographed photos to give her… aloof and reticent but still gentle, just like the teenage boy An Yi met when he was 18.

Sometimes An Yi couldn’t understand why the young man who had repeatedly reached out to him for help would become so indifferent and arrogant after growing up. But upon careful consideration, it was actually him blindly and stubbornly loving a shadow that he fantasized about being complete, and Yan Chen might have always been like this.

—Inherited pride from being pampered since childhood, never needing to bow down to love someone.

An Yi closed the notebook, barefoot, and walked to the balcony.

The dense raindrops formed silver threads in his vision, accompanied by the sound of rustling grass and the scent of earthy mud, swept into the room by the autumn wind.

The figure downstairs was still standing under the street lamp, motionless, without an umbrella, like a statue.

Indeed, he was the young master of a thousand nobilities, even lacking the most basic common sense of life.

An Yi put on his clothes, took an umbrella, and went downstairs.

The weather in Jin Hai was not as mild as in Xichuan, and autumn could chill one to the bone.

An Yi stepped through the puddles, and when Yan Chen heard the movement, he looked up, his brow slightly furrowed.

“Are you enjoying tormenting yourself like this?” An Yi threw the umbrella into his arms. Facing Yan Chen, he couldn’t help but become sarcastic. “If lightning strikes you down here, it will cause trouble for me.”

“Don’t leave!” Yan Chen grabbed him. “I just want to look at you a little longer.”

“You’ve seen enough, you can leave now,” An Yi shrugged him off and turned to walk back.

Not two steps later, there was a loud noise behind him, startling him.

Turning back, he saw Yan Chen falling in the rain, completely soaked, with disheveled black hair partially covering his unusually pale face.

An Yi touched his forehead and confirmed that he had a fever.

An Yi, annoyed, paced in place and shouted, “Are you doing this on purpose? Do you think acting pitiful like this will change anything?!”

Yan Chen, with dark pupils, stared at him. “I just wanted to see you.”

An Yi, resentful, knew Yan Chen was confident he would relent.

But he was inherently kind and couldn’t just leave a sick person out in the rain. In the end, he let Yan Chen into the house.

He found a clean hoodie and sweatpants from the closet and tossed them to Yan Chen. With Yan Chen’s tall stature, wearing his clothes didn’t fit properly, making him look somewhat comical.

Yan Chen sat on the couch, his head down, secretly sniffing the scent of soap from the collar.

An Yi poured a glass of water and handed him a fever reducer and a towel. “Take the medicine and leave. Let Jiang Hai take you home.”

“…I don’t have a home to go back to when you’re not there,” Yan Chen muttered.

He took the medicine, draped the towel over his damp head, and weakly rubbed it a few times.

“An Yi, I’ve endured not coming to see you for these past few days… because I thought about giving up.”

An Yi stood with his arms crossed in the distance, leaning against the bedroom door frame, silently furrowing his brows.

Yan Chen sat on the couch across the living room, staring at the vase of blooming white roses, his eyes sore.

“But I can’t do it.”

His head drooped, his wet black hair covering his eyebrows and eyes, looking lonely and distressed.

“I’ve never felt this miserable before. I think about seeing you every day, but I’m afraid of annoying you.”

“What should I do, An Yi?”

An Yi’s hand trembled slightly in the darkness.

Yan Chen coughed twice, his voice hoarse. “I don’t want to break up with you. I like you.”

“Like?” An Yi chuckled self-deprecatingly. “What do you like about me? What do you see me as? You never answered your phone, you always ignored my messages. You came and went as you pleased. After getting out of bed, we were worse than strangers. Is this what you call liking someone?”

Yan Chen froze.

“You like humiliating me with money, like handing me over to others, like making me the third party in your marriage. Your version of ‘liking’ is too peculiar, and I can’t bear it.”

“An Yi…”

Yan Chen approached him, wanting to hug him.

An Yi raised his palm, signaling him not to come any closer.

Yan Chen took a step forward, allowing An Yi’s palm to touch his chest.

Despite the thin fabric, An Yi felt Yan Chen’s feverish temperature burning through it, making him tremble.

An Yi leaned against the door frame, with no way to retreat.

He saw Yan Chen’s Adam’s apple bob twice, and his heart thumped rapidly under his palm.

“I’m sorry, truly sorry.”

An Yi remained silent for two seconds, then forcefully pushed Yan Chen away. “It’s too late for all this.”

He lifted his eyelids, looking directly into Yan Chen’s deep eyes. “To be honest, you weren’t bad to me before. You helped me settle my debts, transferred An Ya to another school, and even contributed financially when she fell ill. I remember all these good things.”

“It was my own fault for not knowing my place, trying to make you see me differently.”

“Later, I left you and went out to see the world, experienced the allure of wealth and indulgence. Although I didn’t like that lifestyle, I understand you now. With so many temptations, not everyone can resist, and of course, I couldn’t resist either.”

Mentioning Xie Nancang, Yan Chen tensed all over.

“Why him? Are you sure he really loves you?”

“If not him, there will be someone else,” An Yi said, “and I don’t pin my hopes on anyone’s love. I only need to love myself, that’s enough.”

Yan Chen’s heart shook, engulfed in a deep sense of powerlessness and unease.

There was also a near-consuming regret.

He hated himself for the absurd things he had done, the hurtful words he had said. An Yi’s heart had turned cold, and he was determined to leave, as if no amount of pleading would change anything.

“Let me make it up to you, An Yi,” Yan Chen struggled like a trapped beast in his final attempt, “I was a jerk before… Especially for not letting you see Xiao Ya for the last time, it was my fault, blame me, hate me, I’ve been feeling guilty about it all along, but give me another chance…”

“An Ya is gone, what chance do you still want?” An Yi roared with hatred, his voice becoming sharp.

An Ya was his unspeakable sore point, the rain on that winter night last year, continuous until now, how could Yan Chen make amends?!

He glared at Yan Chen, trembling all over, filled with intense hatred, pointing at Yan Chen’s burning red eyes, “Get out of here, just get out!”

Yan Chen refused to leave, without hesitation, An Yi grabbed a nearby porcelain plate painting and hurled it at him.

One piece, two pieces… burst open and scattered at his feet.

An Yi’s emotions, suppressed for almost a year, suddenly erupted without warning.

His frenzy delivered a powerful blow to Yan Chen.

He had never seen An Yi so out of control, and it was only at this moment that he truly realized how much damage he had caused to An Yi.

He stepped over the shards and rushed forward, embracing An Yi tightly, not letting go no matter how he was hit and cursed.

An Yi cried heart-wrenchingly, tears blurring his face, and when he reached the peak of his hatred, he fiercely bit into Yan Chen’s shoulder.

Yan Chen held him tighter, his hand on the back of his head gentler than usual, afraid that, if he wasn’t careful, the person in his arms would shatter.

Trembling, he whispered “I’m sorry” over and over again into An Yi’s ear until he almost suffocated.

These two words were too pale, too powerless.

But at this moment, Yan Chen’s mind was filled with only these two words.

An Yi cried until he was weak, unable to move like he was suffocating.

This was one of the somatic symptoms of a depressive episode.

Yan Chen carried him to bed, staring blankly at the ceiling amidst a blur of tears, silently wiping away his tears for a long time.

When An Yi woke up in the early hours of the morning, the symptoms of paralysis in his body had finally improved.

Outside, the sky was dimly lit, and he sat on the bed for a while before sluggishly remembering what happened last night.

He looked outside, the bedroom door was open, the broken pieces of porcelain at the door had been cleaned up, and in the corner of the living room where he looked out, he could vaguely see a little leg poking out from the armrest of the sofa.

He frowned, got out of bed, and saw the nearly two-meter-tall man curled up on his two-seater sofa, looking miserable.

Because of a cold, Yan Chen’s breathing was heavy, his cheeks still red.

His hands and feet were hanging outside the sofa, and he could easily roll off with a slight movement.

An Yi pushed him twice but couldn’t wake him up.

Touching his forehead again, it was burning hot.

An Yi was afraid he would really die in his house, so he exerted all his strength to get him to the hospital.

When he called Jiang Hai with Yan Chen’s phone, there were several unread messages on the screen, and because of the message preview, An Yi saw the name of Xie Nancang’s company at a glance.

The suspicion that had been lingering in his mind for days finally had an answer.

Returning to the infusion room, he threw the phone onto the hospital bed.

Yan Chen opened his burning eyelids and looked at him with bloodshot eyes.

“Stop all those tactics against Xie Nancang,” An Yi looked at him coldly, “don’t make me hate you more.”

Yan Chen lowered his eyes and softly uttered a “Hmm.”

An Yi was surprised by his compliance, but he didn’t want to delve into it. He waited outside the door until Jiang Hai hurried over, then he got up and left.

“Mr. An,” Jiang Hai called after him, hesitating as if wanting to say something but holding back. Finally, he couldn’t help but speak up for his own boss, “Mr. Yan used to be quite a mess, but this time, he divorced from the Zhou family for you and was locked in his room for a long time. He even jumped from the to escape. I’ve been with him for so long and I’ve never seen him fight so hard for anyone.”

“…,” An Yi said calmly, “That’s none of my concern. Take care of him well, I’m leaving.”

^[1]Author’s Note: Still the same words, the aim of this story is to write about “the insecure learning to love themselves, and the arrogant learning to love others”. The speed of … Continue reading