Cheng Zhou had always been quite optimistic and firmly believed that with sincere effort, even the hardest obstacles could be overcome.

So in the past, Cheng Zhou waited. He waited for Nie Shanglin to realize that he had feelings for him. He waited from their first meeting to university, from university to their first time in bed, from their first time in bed to graduation and living together, from living together to getting injured and hospitalized, from being hospitalized to his discharge, and finally, from his discharge to the death of his heart.

After explaining the origin of his back scars, Cheng Zhou turned to Nie Shanglin and said, “Nie Shanglin, don’t you realize? You speak of regret, yet you are completely oblivious to the things you’ve done. What exactly are you regretting? Or is it that your so-called regret and reflection are just empty words? At the same time, you expect me to be grateful for your ‘repentance’ and ‘apologies’?”

Cheng Zhou tilted his head and continued, “I don’t know why you suddenly want to get back together. I can only say, let’s talk about reconciliation when my scars have faded on their own.”

Nie Shanglin’s eyes were red, wanting to approach Cheng Zhou but hesitating to step forward. He felt a wave of darkness before his eyes, and his words trembled as he spoke: “The scars on your body, or the ones in your heart?”

Cheng Zhou laughed, “What difference does it make?”

He could find the best treatment to surgically restore Cheng Zhou’s physical wounds, but how was he supposed to heal the wounds in Cheng Zhou’s heart?

“I…” Nie Shanglin wanted to say something but struggled to find the right words.

Cheng Zhou stood up and opened the door. “Let’s go. If you still have a conscience and it bothers you, then please don’t come to disturb me.”

Nie Shanglin rose and gazed at Cheng Zhou before finally stepping out of the room.

For a while afterward, Cheng Zhou didn’t see Nie Shanglin again, and he enjoyed the peace, living life at his own pace. After returning home, he fell back into his previous carefree routine, sleeping when he wanted and getting up as he pleased, occasionally taking photos or editing videos.

Cheng Zhou’s photographs were sometimes featured in magazines and submitted to various competitions. Perhaps he truly had a talent for it, having studied photography as an elective in college. Even after taking charge of the Cheng family business, he occasionally ventured out to enjoy photography. As a result, he accumulated numerous awards and gained a reputation as a well-known photographer.

Cheng Zhou enjoyed a variety of vegetables, especially loofah and tomatoes. He even liked cilantro, but he had a particular dislike for celery.

Cheng Zhou didn’t like drinking milk, but for the sake of his health, he made it a habit to have a glass every night before bed. He would furrow his brow as he chugged it down in one go, swallowing it with a few audible gulps, then he’d reveal a look of relief as if he had just survived a trial.

Except when he was out working on photography projects, Cheng Zhou rarely ventured outside. He preferred to stay indoors, often ordering takeout. His most frequent choice was from Nine yuan vegetarian restaurant which seemed to suit his taste perfectly.

Unless he was particularly busy or feeling lazy, Cheng Zhou would go out for a walk in the evenings, play with the dog from the neighbor’s house, greet the mischievous children, and even play chess with a group of elderly people.

——–

All of this was information that Nie Shanglin heard from a private investigator.

Cheng Zhou didn’t want him to disturb him any further, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to see him, to know what he had been up to lately, how his health was, whether he was busy, and if he was taking care of himself.

He also wanted to know what Cheng Zhou  likes, the one he had missed out on due to his own ignorance. It was truly ironic that after living together for so many years, he had only now realized that Cheng Zhou didn’t particularly like eating meat.

When they had meals together, Cheng Zhou would always prepare a lot of meat because he enjoyed it. He knew exactly what his partner liked, but he was completely unaware of Cheng Zhou’s preferences.

Looking at the various candid photos of Cheng Zhou’s daily life taken by the private detective, Nie Shanglin felt a sense of happiness and relaxation. Cheng Zhou’s bright and energetic smile seemed to radiate through the pictures. Even at twenty-seven or twenty-eight, he still exuded an indescribable youthful charm.

The more he looked, the more he liked them. He printed several copies of the photo where Cheng Zhou smiled the most brilliantly, placing one by his bedside, one in his wallet, and another on his desk.

How wonderful, Nie Shanglin thought. The only regret was that Cheng Zhou wasn’t smiling at him.

He had already begun reorganizing Cheng Corporation.

The initial decision to acquire Cheng Corporation was driven by the significant benefits it would bring to Nie Corporation. He had always believed that Cheng Zhou belonged to him, so he thought it only natural to merge Cheng Corporation into Nie Corporation, allowing Cheng Zhou to hold shares and receive dividends.

Now, he intended to hand Cheng Corporation over to Cheng Zhou in its entirety, even if Cheng Zhou didn’t want it.

During this time, the more Nie Shanglin looked at Cheng Zhou’s photos and pieced together his habits and mannerisms, the deeper he fell.

He had truly fallen for Cheng Zhou long ago.

How long ago, exactly?

Long enough to understand that this feeling might have blossomed during all those years when Cheng Zhou had loved him unwaveringly.

It might have been sparked by the warmth of Cheng Zhou’s radiant smile, which felt like a sunbeam cutting through the haze of summer.

Or maybe it was the first time he saw him, appearing ready to give up but still showing a bright, youthful spirit that couldn’t be hidden.

Nie Shanglin realized he truly was a jerk.