Chapter 16

His heart pounded like a drum.

Yet, his hand instinctively reached out and pressed the light switch by the bed. A warm, yellowish light illuminated the corner of the room. It wasn’t too bright, but it was enough for lighting.

His mind was still a chaotic mess, buzzing with noise, but for some reason, he couldn’t stop thinking about the soft sound of pain Chi Zhihan had made in the dark earlier.

Chi Zhihan, who didn’t pay attention to where she was walking, often bumped into table corners.

Before the sound of the keypad unlocking echoed from outside, Qi Cheng quietly pulled the blanket aside, peeking through the dim light to confirm the lighting once more.

The door opened at that moment, and the sunlight streaming in made him squint. He caught a glimpse of ankles clad in fluffy slippers.

Quickly, he pulled the blanket back over himself. The familiar, stifling yet safe darkness returned, but suddenly, his mind went blank.

The buzzing noise in his head seemed to have been muted.

All he could hear clearly was the sound of her closing the door, the soft shuffle of her slippers as she stepped into the hallway, and then she paused.

“You turned on the light?” Her voice rose with surprise, followed by a soft murmur, “That’s wonderful.”

Qi Cheng’s fingers curled unconsciously. He held his breath, closed his eyes, and felt his eyelashes brush against the blanket, tickling him.

The sound of her slippers dragging lazily across the floor resumed. She walked with a carefree, unhurried gait, her steps slow and deliberate.

That’s why she was so prone to bumping into things.

She seemed to stand in the middle of the living room for a moment, then sniffled before heading toward the bar counter.

Qi Cheng frowned. Due to his sensitive nature and his need to study Chi Zhihan’s microexpressions for his work, he was well aware of her little habits.

She sniffled when she was embarrassed.

When she got distracted while cooking and let the soup boil over, she sniffled. When someone on the phone complained about how strange her current boss was, she sniffled.

What had she seen in the middle of the living room just now?

Restless, he shifted slightly, and the sound of fabric rustling seemed deafening in the quiet room. Qi Cheng’s face flushed, and cold sweat began to trickle down his back.

“I saw the surveillance screen,” Chi Zhihan sniffled again. “Seeing it in person still feels… a bit strange.”

The clinking of dishes being cleared sounded crisp and clear. After saying this, Chi Zhihan fell silent. Qi Cheng, under the blanket, was drenched in cold sweat, his breathing growing heavier. His body, dehydrated again, made his vision blur with white spots.

She seemed to have left, the door closing softly behind her, and the room fell silent once more.

But he couldn’t move. His body went limp again, and he lay on the bed, gasping like a fish out of water.

There were faint rustling sounds from the surveillance monitor, but he didn’t have the strength to look.

The surveillance had originally been set up for the sake of his manga. The previous private chefs had all been men, and Qi Ning had specifically warned that the person across the hall disliked noise, so their interactions had always been strictly professional. He had never thought there was anything wrong with the surveillance.

But Chi Zhihan’s interactions with him had changed everything.

The surveillance was no longer just about watching her cook. Chi Zhihan spent most of her time in the living room, and during the period when they communicated through the camera, she had even watched an entire movie with him.

He had grown accustomed to this kind of interaction, even though he knew deep down it wasn’t appropriate. Today, because the room was too quiet, he had instinctively turned on the monitor.

No wonder Chi Zhihan felt awkward.

Would Chi Zhihan feel violated, imagining a monster like him hiding in a dark, lightless corner, greedily watching her every move?

The thought made him feel ashamed.

Qi Cheng was still gasping for breath, his vision flickering with dizziness and darkness. He bit his lip and sat up, the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth from how hard he was biting.

He wanted to turn off the surveillance.

The shame made his entire body feel as if ants were crawling over him, as if he were naked and exposed on a crowded street.

The negative emotions from his episode finally overwhelmed his rationality. He felt his breathing grow heavier, the darkness in his vision slowly turning blood-red.

So he didn’t hear the sound of the keypad unlocking again. The sudden burst of light as the door opened made him instinctively turn his head. Backlit, all he saw was a small figure.

…

The moment Chi Zhihan saw the surveillance screen, her emotions were complicated.

Whether it was during the one-month temporary contract or the current one-year renewal, she had never raised any objections to the surveillance, even though she knew deep down that it was no longer just about monitoring her cooking process.

This surveillance was the only window the person across the hall had to the outside world.

Living alone in such a vast, empty room, curled up on a bed behind the staircase, with all the curtains drawn to block out any light, he seemed desperate and helpless. Yet, he couldn’t resist turning on the surveillance screen.

This action felt like a cry for help.

A subtle but urgent plea from someone who didn’t want to be dragged into the abyss of darkness.

She understood it completely.

But when she saw the familiar kitchen setup on the surveillance screen, her face flushed slightly.

The camera… was so clear.

That meant the times she rushed to the bathroom in the morning wearing her oversized glasses had also been captured…

Her face burned with embarrassment, mixed with a strange sense of indignation. She mechanically finished clearing the dishes and only remembered as she walked back to her room that she had grabbed a handful of nougat candies for him but had forgotten to give them to him.

And had she closed the window?

It was autumn, and the evenings were getting colder. The area they lived in, with its lush greenery, was particularly chilly.

After hesitating for a moment, she found a box and filled it with some other snacks. She brewed a pot of caramel apple tea, sprinkled some cinnamon on top, and used the excuse of delivering afternoon tea to slip on her slippers and open the door again.

Her eyes hadn’t fully adjusted to the darkness, but she could make out the figure of the person who should have been lying on the bed now sitting upright.

…

First of all, it was definitely a man, with messy hair.

Second, he seemed quite tall, and his build wasn’t as thin as she had imagined.

Lastly… why did he not seem like a middle-aged man?

The two of them, unable to see each other clearly due to the dim light, stared at each other across the room for two seconds.

……

The figure on the bed, like a startled animal, froze for a moment before swiftly pulling the blanket over himself.

And just like that, he became a lump under the blanket.

……

Chi Zhihan, now adjusted to the dim light in the room, blinked.

She had been startled too. For a moment, she had even considered turning around, her mind absurdly worried that she might see horns growing from his head…

But the way he had turned into a lump made it hard for her to remain the startled one, especially since the person on the bed seemed to have turned to stone.

“Um…” She cleared her throat, trying to sound as confident as possible. “You only had porridge for lunch, so I was worried you might be hungry. I made some afternoon tea.”

The lump remained rigid.

Chi Zhihan hesitated, deciding not to point out that his sudden movement, combined with his height, had left his feet exposed.

His startlingly white feet were now visible, all ten toes curled tightly together, each one seemingly expressing his near-death anxiety…

Those feet looked like they belonged to someone no older than twenty…

He must take really good care of himself… Chi Zhihan’s face flushed inexplicably.

“I’ll turn around. You can lie down, and then knock on the headboard to let me know, okay?” She pursed her lips, coming up with an absurd solution. Once she said it out loud, it somehow felt appropriate for this absurd situation.

The lump hesitated for a few seconds before nodding.

The blanket was thick, and as he nodded, it slipped down slightly, startling him into stillness again.

“…I’m turning around now,” Chi Zhihan said, unable to bear it any longer. She quickly turned her back and stood straight, not moving a muscle.

Qi Cheng’s mind was completely blank.

When Chi Zhihan opened the door, he was in the early stages of an episode, unable to hear anything outside. Starting from the base of his spine, his muscles were slowly losing sensation.

Then the sunlight hit his eyes, golden and warm, making his eyes water.

Everything he did after that was purely instinctual.

It was stupid.

Stupid, like a four-legged monster.

But what was done was done. He lay stiffly under the blanket, passively waiting for Chi Zhihan’s reaction.

Would she laugh at him?

She must have seen him…

Looking like a ghost…

Biting his lower lip, Qi Cheng’s dark eyes welled up with tears, his eyelids slowly turning red. His knuckles ached from gripping the blanket too tightly.

He used to be good-looking. Before he got sick, he was athletic, with above-average grades. When he played basketball, girls would gather around the court to cheer for him.

That version of him was nothing like the person he was now, too afraid to even show his face.

Chi Zhihan’s gentle suggestion had given him some relief. The tears that had been welling up in his eyes finally spilled over, dripping onto his clothes.

She hadn’t laughed at him. She was considerate, and everything she had done so far had been thoughtful, never making him feel embarrassed.

But his mood didn’t improve because of it.

In that moment, he thought of his past self.

If it had been his past self opening the door, he might have raised his hand and flashed Chi Zhihan a bright smile.

Just a simple greeting.

The kind of courtesy Chi Zhihan deserved.

She had taken care of him for so many days, her chatter filling all the spaces where his anxious thoughts would otherwise roam.

Tears fell, one after another, onto his clothes. Qi Cheng sniffled.

Slowly, he lay back down.

Then, with great difficulty, he reached out and knocked on the headboard.

He wasn’t that person anymore. The current him could only produce this dull knocking sound. He didn’t even dare to speak.

As always, he hated himself. But this time, there was a hint of unwillingness mixed in.