Even though he had been kidnapped for two whole days, as a youthful and energetic alpha, Tao Fengche was back to full strength after just one night of sleep upon returning home.

It was already late in the morning, and the sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows like a golden, natural heater, giving off a lazy warmth that was typical of autumn—unlike the harsh summer sun. Tao Fengche yawned, resisting the urge to fall back asleep, and got out of bed to shower.

The remnants of sleepiness were washed away by the water. After finishing his morning routine and rinsing his mouth thoroughly, he changed into fresh clothes and went downstairs.

He wandered around the entire first floor, even checking the tea room, but there was no sign of Sui Yuesheng.

Tao Fengche turned to ask Xu Song, “Where’s my brother?”

“Master Sui is still sleeping. He’s been exhausted these past few days and hasn’t rested at all,” Xu Song replied, then cautiously added, “Is there something urgent you need from him? If it’s really important, I can wake him up now.”

“No!” Tao Fengche quickly reached out and grabbed Xu Song’s arm.

Xu Song gave him a surprised look, and Tao Fengche realized his reaction was a bit too extreme. He swiftly pulled his hand back and tried to explain in an offhand way, “It’s nothing. I just asked since I didn’t see him. Let him sleep.”

“Understood,” Xu Song nodded, but his expression shifted slightly as if deep in thought. He then asked, “Are you hungry, young master? Should I inform the kitchen to prepare a meal?”

Tao Fengche nodded, “Sure.”

He took a few steps toward the dining room, but then suddenly remembered something and turned back to Xu Song. “Oh, right. My brother has an injury on his hand. The doctor said yesterday that he needs to avoid certain foods and eat lighter meals. I wrote a list—I’ll give it to you later, and you can hand it to the kitchen…”

As he spoke, he patted his pocket, but found nothing. Tao Fengche paused, then remembered that he had changed clothes and left the note on his bedside table. “I left the note in my room. I’ll grab it later and then have the kitchen prepare accordingly when he wakes up.”

Xu Song didn’t respond, simply watching Tao Fengche with an ever-growing smile in his eyes.

Tao Fengche started feeling uneasy under his gaze and stopped speaking, asking suspiciously, “What? Is something wrong?”

Xu Song smiled. “Nothing at all. I’m just pleased to see that you have grown up and learned to care for others, young master. Master Sui will be delighted to know how concerned you are for him. However—”

He dragged out the last word and added, “I can retrieve the note for you.”

Tao Fengche swore he saw a teasing glint in Xu Song’s eyes.

No.

Xu Song wasn’t even trying to hide it.

The old butler’s gaze seemed to pierce through his heart, as if all his hidden emotions and secrets had been laid bare. But it wasn’t entirely Xu Song’s fault—Tao Fengche knew he had been far too obvious.

The only son of the Tao family, known for his willfulness and even arguing with his father, had never shown such care for anyone. Writing down dietary restrictions? Did the chefs employed by the Tao family not know how to do their job?

The more he thought about it, the more Tao Fengche felt that his behavior had been out of character. He wished he could go back three minutes and sew his lips shut.

Resisting the urge to rub his nose in embarrassment, he muttered a few words and quickly walked off, as if something terrifying were chasing him.

It wasn’t until after he had eaten that Tao Fengche managed to shake off the overwhelming awkwardness of the situation.

His new phone, which he’d only had for a few days, had gone missing the day he was kidnapped by Zhao Jiayang. Tao Fengche guessed it had long been destroyed. In today’s world, where smartphones are essential, being without one was quite inconvenient.

Fortunately, Xu Song, the all-purpose butler, had him covered.

When Tao Fengche woke up that morning, he found a brand-new phone on his desk, with a freshly replaced SIM card already installed and all his commonly used apps set up.

As he logged into his account, all of his cloud-stored data began downloading, making the new phone feel exactly like the old one.

Tao Fengche scrolled through his social media for a while, trying to see if he had missed anything over the past couple of days. Instead, his screen was flooded with countless photos of people admiring the moon—so many angles and focal lengths that it looked like a photography competition.

Seeing these pictures wouldn’t have bothered him normally, but now they only reminded him of his cancelled Mid-Autumn Festival plans, leaving him feeling bitter, as if a thousand ants were gnawing at his heart.

He stared at a picture posted by one of his seniors for a long time. His gaze traveled from the bright full moon in the top right corner to the couple nestled together in the bottom left. Suddenly, a well-known saying popped into his mind: “The moon is fullest on the sixteenth night.”

Coincidentally, that day was the sixteenth day of the eighth lunar month.

“Uncle Xu!” Tao Fengche put down his phone and called for Xu Song. “Did the osmanthus wine I asked you to order last weekend arrive?”

“It’s already here—five varieties in total. They’re all stored in the cellar.”

Tao Fengche nodded, a plan gradually forming in his mind.

—This was the first traditional Kyushu festival since his reunion with Sui Yuesheng!

There was no way he was going to let the Mid-Autumn Festival pass by so easily.

“What are you thinking about, young master?” Xu Song asked at just the right moment. “Is there anything I can help with?”

“Yes.”

Tao Fengche described his plan and then added anxiously, “But you must help me keep this from my brother…”

Xu Song’s mouth twitched several times before he finally gave in and laughed.

“Rest assured, young master,” he said, barely holding back his amusement.

···

As it turned out, Tao Fengche’s concerns were unfounded.

It wasn’t until a little after six in the evening that Sui Yuesheng finally came downstairs. He found Tao Fengche sitting at the dining table, absorbed in his phone. The moment Tao Fengche heard him, he looked up, and his smile spread from his eyes to his lips.

Sui Yuesheng was delighted.

He enjoyed being looked at like that by Tao Fengche, as if he were his entire world.

It made him feel needed.

Sui Yuesheng smiled back. “Good morning, Xiao Che.”

“It’s not morning anymore, Ge.” Tao Fengche gestured to the servant beside the table, signaling them to notify the kitchen to serve dinner. Then he turned back and asked, “The sun is already setting, and you’re only waking up now?”

“Yeah,” Sui Yuesheng said, pulling out a chair to sit across from Tao Fengche. He yawned, “I haven’t slept the past two days. I was exhausted.”

Tao Fengche nodded, wanting to say something but holding back.

As the servants brought out the food, he suddenly asked, “Did you sleep well?”

“Well enough.”

In fact, over fifteen hours of continuous sleep made Sui Yuesheng feel a bit dizzy, and his temples throbbed with pain. But he was older than Tao Fengche, so there was no need to say anything to make him worry.

Sui Yuesheng quickly changed the subject, “What time did you wake up?”

He hadn’t heard a single sound.

“A little after twelve.” Tao Fengche could tell that Sui Yuesheng wanted to ask more, so he hurriedly added, “I had lunch, read a bit in the afternoon, didn’t do any vigorous exercise, and didn’t engage in anything mentally taxing. Don’t worry, I’m really fine. Even if you don’t believe me, you can’t not trust the doctor, right?”

Tao Fengche’s gaze was sincere, and his words were reasonable, but Sui Yuesheng remained unmoved.

He couldn’t help but doubt in his heart: Just looking at how the doctor exaggerated the bullet wound yesterday, he really didn’t seem very trustworthy.

Sui Yuesheng still remembered that the doctor was a highly respected physician, but he didn’t voice his thoughts. Seeing the servants bring out all the dishes, he smiled faintly, “Let’s eat first.”

The three dishes and a soup on the table strictly followed the doctor’s advice, almost perfectly replicating the dishes recommended by the doctor yesterday, with an extremely light flavor.

After sipping a bit of soup, Sui Yuesheng raised his eyebrows slightly, catching a glimpse of Tao Fengche’s cautious gaze from the corner of his eye, and expressionlessly swallowed the soup.

Tao Fengche exhaled, picking up his chopsticks to start eating.

During dinner, Sui Yuesheng felt Tao Fengche’s gaze frequently landing on him—no, to be precise, Tao Fengche’s eyes hardly left him, only disappearing for a moment when he looked down to eat, before reattaching almost instantly.

He just thought he was hiding it well.

But the training Sui Yuesheng had undergone and the ten years he had lived more than Tao Fengche weren’t in vain.

…It seemed Tao Fengche wanted to say something. Sui Yuesheng thought to himself.

He calmly lowered his eyes, pretending not to notice Tao Fengche’s gaze, focusing intently on his meal, patiently waiting for the moment when Tao Fengche couldn’t hold back and would come forward to confess.

The patient hunter did not return empty-handed this time.

After dinner, while Sui Yuesheng was sitting on the sofa watching the news, Tao Fengche stealthily approached.

He cleared his throat, “Ge, do you have anything planned for tonight?”

Sui Yuesheng shook his head.

Tao Fengche’s eyes sparkled, “I’ve prepared a surprise for you.”

“What is it?” Sui Yuesheng tilted his head to look at him, somewhat curious.

Tao Fengche was wearing a black-and-white gradient sweatshirt, with his right hand tucked into his pocket and not taking it out, as if holding something.

Sui Yuesheng’s gaze circled around his pocket, feeling inexplicably uneasy—what was hidden there?

Thinking back to the kisses from yesterday, Sui Yuesheng had a bad premonition.

Tao Fengche slowly withdrew his hand, revealing a black satin ribbon, three fingers wide and about half a meter long.

Thank goodness, it wasn’t the ring he feared.

A large stone in Sui Yuesheng’s heart slowly fell, but Tao Fengche’s next words and actions made him tense up again.

“A surprise, once revealed, is no longer a surprise.”

While saying this, Tao Fengche raised his hand, pretending to cover Sui Yuesheng’s eyes.

Sui Yuesheng’s breath caught, and he immediately wanted to refuse, but his gaze inadvertently met Tao Fengche’s in mid-air, clearly seeing the anxiety hidden in the latter’s eyes.

—Even though he spoke so calmly, how could Tao Fengche really have no worries in his heart?

Growing up in such a family, he understood better than anyone how intimate such an action was, and how it crossed boundaries: for people like them, vigilance was ingrained in their genes.

Moreover, Sui Yuesheng had such a personality that he absolutely could not tolerate losing his sight.

But Tao Fengche still asked and did this.

Whether it was the hand-holding in the car last night or the black satin ribbon today, everything he did was a repeated test of Sui Yuesheng’s bottom line, silently inquiring about that unspoken yet lingering question in his mind:

How much do you really like me?

How special am I to you?

Would you be willing to change your principles for me, to go against your nature?

…

Tao Fengche held his breath, waiting for Sui Yuesheng’s response, while also preparing for how to cover up if Sui Yuesheng refused.

But in his expectant gaze, Sui Yuesheng did not disappoint him this time.

“Okay.” He took the ribbon, covering his eyes with it, and swiftly tied a knot behind his head.

The pure black ribbon, gray hair, and snow-white skin formed a striking contrast, and with his foggy eyes covered, the delicacy of Sui Yuesheng’s facial features became even more pronounced, giving him a sense of fragility.

Tao Fengche’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly as he stepped closer to take Sui Yuesheng’s hand, “I’ll take you there.”

Sui Yuesheng obediently stood up, interlocking his fingers with Tao Fengche’s, slightly falling half a step behind.

This was a posture full of reliance, but Sui Yuesheng had never really tried to rely on others in his life; every cell in his body screamed in discomfort, feeling extremely awkward.

The inability to see made him feel nauseated; he hated the feeling of losing control over such things, even needing someone to guide him as he walked.

An impulse roared in his heart, urging him to yank the covering off his eyes.

But this was at the Tao family home, and Sui Yuesheng was clear about the placement of every object; he could walk normally even with his eyes closed.

Yet the person leading him was Tao Fengche, warmth continuously flowing from the place where their hands met, gradually calming his restlessness.

“Watch where you’re going.” Sui Yuesheng finally just coldly threatened, “If you drop me…”

He didn’t continue, smiling faintly with a chilling tone.

Tao Fengche involuntarily shivered, instantly imagining ten thousand tragic ways to die, and hurriedly assured him, “Don’t worry, I absolutely won’t let you fall.”

“But If you really fall, I’ll be your cushion.” Tao Fengche added.

Another straightforward remark.

Sui Yuesheng remained silent, and Tao Fengche took it as his consent, carefully and cautiously leading him forward.

Sui Yuesheng imagined their current posture, feeling like Tao Fengche was leading a blind person.

The next moment, a news story he had seen before popped into his mind: the training guide dogs undergo is quite rigorous; in dangerous situations, they will bark loudly to alert their owner, and if their owner is momentarily distracted, they might even take the initiative to act as a cushion for their owner…

…What Tao Fengche had just said was strikingly similar.

Sui Yuesheng couldn’t help but laugh lightly at this thought, refusing to answer Tao Fengche’s question about “Ge, what are you laughing about?”