Chapter 1

“Din-din-din…”

The annoying sound of the alarm clock persisted for nearly half a minute before Song Wenzhou, unable to bear it any longer, stretched out his arm to grab his phone and slammed it off.

This was the third day since Song Wenzhou moved out of the apartment where he had been living with Mu Chi. They had been together for six years, cohabited for four years, and having gotten used to always having someone by his side, he still couldn’t adapt to waking up alone on workdays.

He had always had the habit of going to bed early and waking up early since he was a child, yet at some point, he had become reliant on Mu Chi to wake him up.

Maybe it was just that he liked the unique way his boyfriend used to wake him up, a way that made it impossible for him to throw a tantrum, no matter how bad his morning mood was.

But now, they had broken up. Song Wenzhou could only vent his bad mood on the empty half of the bed, which was unsatisfying enough to give him a pimple on his forehead.

In the bathroom, with a blank face, Song Wenzhou combed his bangs down to cover the pimple on his forehead.

A few minutes later, Song Wenzhou stood at the stove in a military posture, his face growing increasingly sour. Finally, he grabbed a bag of bread from a shopping bag and, after a moment’s hesitation, grabbed his car keys and left the house.

The white Lexus drove into the underground parking lot, smoothly sliding into its designated parking spot. The car door opened, and long legs wrapped in black trousers stepped out of the driver’s seat. The legs were connected to a shapely rear, with the hem of a white shirt tucked into the waistband of his pants, cinching his slim waist.

Not far away, a man leaning against a car door immediately straightened up when he saw this, his gaze following Song Wenzhou’s every movement as he got out of the car.

As soon as Song Wenzhou got out, he felt that eager gaze, and without turning around, he already knew exactly who it belonged to.

Song Wenzhou’s expression shifted slightly, and he tightened his fingers around the car keys, blinking twice before pretending not to notice and locking the car as he walked away.

As expected, just a few steps later, the man behind him called out to him.

“Wenzhou,” Mu Chi, seeing that Song Wenzhou had ignored him and continued heading toward the elevator, quickly caught up with him, “Wife…”

Upon hearing this, Song Wenzhou indeed stopped in his tracks and turned to look at Mu Chi.

If it had been the past, Song Wenzhou would have immediately covered Mu Chi’s mouth, and Mu Chi would have teased him with a playful kiss on his palm, which would make Song Wenzhou pull his hand back reflexively after feeling the itch.

But now that they had broken up, it was inappropriate to act so casually, so Song Wenzhou could only glare at Mu Chi and say, “Don’t call me that.”

Mu Chi didn’t respond. Instead, he looked Song Wenzhou up and down with lingering affection and concern. When he noticed the bread in Song Wenzhou’s hand, which seemed out of place with his otherwise sharp and professional outfit, he frowned and asked, “Is this what you’re having for breakfast?”

Song Wenzhou, for some reason, felt a little guilty at the question and subconsciously hid the bread at his side. “I’m almost late for work. If there’s nothing else, I’ll go up first.”

“Wait,” Mu Chi reached out to stop him, urging, “I have something to tell you.”

Song Wenzhou raised his chin, signaling Mu Chi to speak. However, Mu Chi stammered for a long time and couldn’t come up with a reason. The truth was, he didn’t have anything urgent to say. He had just been holding back for two days and couldn’t resist wanting to see Song Wenzhou and talk to him.

During the brief pause, Song Wenzhou discreetly examined him.

It had only been two or three days since they last met, but Mu Chi already looked completely worn out. His hair was messy, his dark circles nearly reached his chin, and his clothes were all wrinkled. He looked as though he hadn’t slept in days.

If he were taken to an audition for a zombie film right now, he might pass the audition with ease.

Song Wenzhou compared his own condition. Apart from the pimple on his forehead, everything else seemed fine. Then, thinking about the car that had been following him the night he moved out and the familiar black Audi he kept seeing downstairs at the apartment complex over the past couple of days, his expression softened a little.

“By the way,” Mu Chi clenched his fist and slammed it into his other palm, finally coming up with an excuse… Oh no, he meant to say he had something important to discuss. “I have something for you. You left it behind the other day when you left.”

“What?”

Mu Chi patted all over his pockets, and finally, from his jacket’s inner pocket, he took out a set of keys. It included his car key, office key, house key, and a keychain in the shape of a basketball.

Mu Chi hesitated for a moment, slowly stroking the surface of the basketball keychain with his thumb. After a moment, he gently took it off the keyring, as though afraid of damaging his precious possession.

Song Wenzhou kept watching the movements of Mu Chi’s hand until Mu Chi solemnly handed the keychain to him. Only then did Song Wenzhou coldly ask, “What’s this supposed to mean?”

This keychain was something Song Wenzhou had given to Mu Chi. Mu Chi had carried it around for many years, replacing the chain three times. The surface of the basketball had been worn smooth from years of use.

Now, Mu Chi was returning the keychain. Did this mean that, since they had broken up, he wanted to return all the things they had given each other?

Mu Chi had no idea what Song Wenzhou was thinking and, with reluctance, said, “Zhouzhou, you have to take good care of it, okay?”

Song Wenzhou glared at him without saying a word.

Mu Chi continued, “You should keep it with you, and look at it every day.”

Look at it, and think of me while you’re at it.

Song Wenzhou: “…Crazy.”

“Never mind,” Mu Chi said, and simply reached out his hand. “Give me your key. I’ll put it on for you.”

Song Wenzhou rolled his eyes slightly. After so many years together, Mu Chi had gone from asking if he was willing to hold hands at the start, to now not caring at all about any boundaries.

Mu Chi probably realized that they were officially broken up and awkwardly pulled his hand back. “Forget it. You do it yourself.”

Song Wenzhou still didn’t say anything but did take the slightly worn keychain from him.

Mu Chi seemed a little worried, saying, “Zhouzhou, please don’t throw it away just because you’re mad, okay?”

Song Wenzhou nodded. “I’m going up now.”

“Hey, wait a second.” Mu Chi called out to him again.

“Hmm?”

“That bread,” Mu Chi pointed at the bread in Song Wenzhou’s hand, “Looks pretty good. Can you give it to me?”

Song Wenzhou pursed his lips and looked at him, once again speechless.

“If you really don’t want to give it to me, I can trade it for my breakfast,” Mu Chi said in a bargaining tone, “What do you think?”

Song Wenzhou: “No.”

“Alright then, I’ll go get it from my car. Wait here. Don’t leave,” Mu Chi said, already jogging toward the black Audi.

Song Wenzhou: “…”

If Song Wenzhou hadn’t wanted to stay, he could have just ignored Mu Chi and walked away. But even now, he didn’t turn and leave while Mu Chi went to get his things.

After a while, Mu Chi returned, holding a white cloth bag. The bag had a logo that Song Wenzhou recognized—it was from a porridge shop far from his workplace.

“Your favorite fish fillet porridge,” Mu Chi immediately shoved the insulated container wrapped in the cloth bag into Song Wenzhou’s arms, and “snatched” the bread from his hands. “Drink it while it’s hot.”

Song Wenzhou was suddenly filled up with the insulated container, and he instinctively wrapped his arms around it, staring blankly at Mu Chi.

“All set,” Mu Chi said, his tired expression softened by the smile on his face. “Go on up now.”

Song Wenzhou moved his lips but ultimately didn’t say anything. He just hugged the insulated container and walked toward the elevator under Mu Chi’s gaze.

Before work, Qiao Yi made her usual cup of coffee and brought it to the office. She lightly knocked on the glass door and, upon hearing a voice from inside say, “Come in,” she pushed the door open. “Team Leader Song, here’s your coffee.”

“Just put it on the table,” Song Wenzhou, holding a spoon and eating porridge, looked up at her and smiled. “Thanks.”

Qiao Yi smiled back, and as she was about to leave, she couldn’t help but add, “Team Leader Song, you seem to be in a good mood today.”

“Really?” Song Wenzhou stirred his fish porridge. “Aren’t I always like this?”

Qiao Yi shook her head. “Not a couple of days ago.”

When the office door closed, Song Wenzhou stared blankly at the small gap between the door and the frame. Reflecting on his behavior from the past few days, he realized he never let personal emotions affect his work, but he hadn’t expected that his bad mood had been so obvious that even Qiao Yi could easily tell.

After a while, Song Wenzhou came to his senses, finished the last spoonful of porridge, and while packing the thermos box, his gaze landed on the keychain he had carelessly left on the table earlier. His thoughts began to drift further.

The keychain had been around for quite a while—nearly ten years, almost as long as his relationship with Mu Chi.

Song Wenzhou had met Mu Chi in his second year of high school. At that time, his parents had moved to another city due to work, so Song Wenzhou had transferred to the school where Mu Chi studied.

The day he registered at the new school was a few days later than the official start of the second year. Guided by the head teacher, Mr. Li, Song Wenzhou went to his new class, just in time for the first period of the day. The English teacher at the front of the class spoke with a very standard American accent, but about a third of the students seemed half-asleep.

Song Wenzhou’s arrival briefly stirred the sleepy students awake. Under the teacher’s guidance, he introduced himself, and then the head teacher asked him to sit next to Mu Chi.

“We’ve got exactly one empty seat left. You can sit there for now,” Mr. Li said, raising his voice. “Mu Chi, raise your hand so the new student can see you.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Song Wenzhou saw a boy in the back corner raise his hand high.

During the short walk from the front of the room to the seat, Song Wenzhou felt incredibly awkward. It felt like all eyes in the class were focused on him.

Especially Mu Chi, who was about to become his desk mate. His slightly curled hair was tousled, and there were sleep lines on his forehead from having just woken up. Yet, when he looked at Song Wenzhou, his eyes seemed to have a spark.

Song Wenzhou had never experienced anything like transferring schools in the middle of the year, and in that situation, he felt so nervous that he didn’t dare to look away. Once he sat down, he straightened his back rigidly.

Fortunately, after the brief interruption, the English teacher tapped on the blackboard and continued the lesson, drawing the students’ attention back to the front—except Mu Chi.

Song Wenzhou could feel Mu Chi turning his head to look at him frequently, as if wanting to start a conversation, but at that time, Song Wenzhou wasn’t very good at socializing, especially in class. He could only keep his lips tightly pressed and stare at the blackboard, pretending not to notice that his new desk mate seemed to want to talk to him.

The bell finally rang, signaling the end of the lesson. As the teacher walked out of the classroom, Song Wenzhou slowly exhaled, relaxing his body.

But before he could fully calm down, a figure suddenly darted out from the side and shouted, “Brother Chi!” The sudden noise startled him, and he couldn’t suppress the urge to cough, choking a bit.