Chapter 18

“Are we going to the company today?” the driver asked proactively.

“No,” Mo Yin smiled from the backseat. “Pei Qing is so busy with work, I’d better not disturb him.”

The driver smiled and said, “Alright, let’s head back then.”

“Okay, thank you.”

As the vehicle drove smoothly, Mo Yin placed a book on his knee, his eyelashes covering his eyes as he flipped through the pages. He naturally glanced up at the front from time to time.

The driver from the Pei family was very polite, usually not one for much conversation. Having been driven by him for so long, he rarely initiated the conversation, let alone inquired about Mo Yin’s schedule unless instructed to do so.

Mo Yin continued reading with lowered eyes, a subtle smile playing at the corner of his lips.

He had been prepared for two days now; Pei Mingshu really had good control over his emotions.

The weather was getting colder. As the car door opened, the autumn chill greeted them. Mo Yin tightened his coat and caught a glimpse of dark trousers outside. He raised his head to see Pei Mingshu standing by the car, dressed in casual attire, smiling at him. “Not many classes today?”

Mo Yin was taken aback for a moment, seemingly unnatural, as he lowered his head slightly and softly responded, “Mm.”

The driver had already brought the wheelchair down. Pei Mingshu said, “I’ll do it.”

Mo Yin raised his head again at the remark, just as Pei Mingshu bent down. Their eyes met, and beneath Mo Yin’s calm surface lurked tension and panic.

“It’s okay, I can manage,” Mo Yin said stiffly, not resisting but restraining himself, refraining from getting closer to someone he shouldn’t be close to.

Pei Mingshu looked at him deeply until Mo Yin blushed and lowered his head. Pei Mingshu straightened up and stepped aside, assisting the driver in pushing the wheelchair. Mo Yin got out of the car and onto the wheelchair, thanking Pei Mingshu. Pei Mingshu replied warmly, “It’s nothing.” Mo Yin pushed the wheelchair a few steps, then couldn’t help but look up and ask, “Aren’t you going to work today?”

Walking beside him, Pei Mingshu smiled with his hands behind his back. “Pei Qing is busier at the company now.”

When the two were alone, they rarely mentioned Pei Qing’s name, tacitly avoiding the subject.

Upon hearing Pei Qing’s name, Mo Yin’s expression visibly stiffened. He murmured a soft “Mm” and fell silent.

Lunch was already prepared in the kitchen, with almost all the dishes being Mo Yin’s favorites.

In the Pei household, Mo Yin had never expressed his likes or dislikes. In terms of clothing, food, shelter, and transportation, he merely accepted passively. But after a while, his wardrobe seemed to automatically filter out colors and styles he didn’t like, and dishes he favored often appeared on the table.

There was someone who quietly cared for him, trying to make him feel safe and comfortable in his own way.

During the meal, Mo Yin mostly kept his head down, focusing on eating. Occasionally, when he picked up a dish, he would glance at Pei Mingshu across the table with caution. If their eyes met, he would immediately lower his head again, pretending as if nothing had happened.

After lunch, Pei Mingshu asked if Mo Yin wanted to take a stroll in the garden.

The last time they were alone together was in the garden.

That day, they were seen by Pei Qing. After they separated, they hadn’t met privately again.

Under Pei Mingshu’s gentle gaze, Mo Yin seemed to struggle for a moment before softly agreeing.

It was late autumn, almost winter, but the Pei family’s garden was still in full bloom. The result of the hard work of the gardeners was that, as they walked, they were surrounded by a variety of flowers, perfectly coordinated in color and shape, emitting a fresh fragrance that was refreshing.

They walked silently, occasionally hearing the crisp chirping of birds.

The flower beds blocked the view of the two as they ventured deeper into the garden. Everything was so peaceful and beautiful.

Pei Mingshu didn’t want to suspect Mo Yin about the case.

From an emotional perspective, Mo Yin was a pitiable and adorable boy in his eyes. Mild-tempered with a hint of stubbornness, he appeared fragile and delicate on the outside, but there was also a sense of pride and self-esteem within him. After being injured, that bit of dignity and pride became even more sensitive. He lived in the Pei household cautiously, even avoiding causing trouble for the household staff.

How could someone like Mo Yin do such a thing?

However, from a rational standpoint, apart from his team members, only Mo Yin, an “outsider” whom he hadn’t been wary of, had access to their plans in his study.

Pei Mingshu was very confident in his team; they were his trusted confidants, and he was sure none of them would do something as foolish as leak the plans.

But what about Mo Yin?

If Mo Yin really did leak their plans to Pei Qing…

Pei Mingshu gripped the wrist behind him, his grip alternating between light and firm, his expression calm.

In the center of the garden was a small wooden pointed-roof room, its exterior painted a creamy white with vines crawling up its sides, resembling something out of a fairy tale. Mo Yin rarely ventured this deep into the garden. He halted both his wheelchair and his gaze upon seeing this enchanting little house.

Pei Mingshu, standing beside him, also stopped and gently leaned forward. “Would you like to go inside?”

Mo Yin looked at him, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “What is this place?”

Pei Mingshu smiled. “You’ll see once we go in.”

The little cabin wasn’t large, even smaller than Mo Yin’s room. A lattice window let in a bit of sunlight, and dust motes floated in the air. Paintings adorned the walls or lay on the floor. To the left of the window was a chair and an easel, but no painting supplies were in sight.

Mo Yin examined the paintings, realizing they all depicted similar landscapes. He wheeled his chair to the window and looked out at the garden before returning his gaze to the paintings. He had guessed right; all these paintings depicted the view of the Pei family garden from this window.

“Did you paint these?” Mo Yin asked, turning to Pei Mingshu.

“No,” Pei Mingshu walked over to the window. “My mother did.”

Mo Yin’s eyes showed a hint of apology. “She paints beautifully.”

Pei Mingshu smiled, coming over to ruffle Mo Yin’s hair. Mo Yin’s hair felt soft as it slipped through his fingers. “Yes, she does.”

Mo Yin blushed slightly.

Pei Mingshu took a seat on a nearby wooden chair, and Mo Yin joined him in admiring the view outside the window. The cabin was quiet, filled with a faint scent of wood and plants.

Suddenly, Pei Mingshu spoke up. “Can you answer the question I asked you last time?”

Mo Yin looked at him. “What?”

Pei Mingshu turned his head, his gaze shifting from the window to Mo Yin’s face.

Compared to his frail and melancholic appearance a year ago, Mo Yin now looked much healthier. His cheeks were rosy, his eyes bright, and the sunlight on his face gave him a soft, warm glow.

Under Pei Mingshu’s scrutiny, he seemed to feel a bit uneasy, gradually lowering his eyelashes.

For a moment, Pei Mingshu softened, considering letting it go.

Even if Mo Yin did leak their plans to Pei Qing to help him, what’s done is done. What good would it do to force an answer out of him?

He wasn’t particularly concerned about giving the plans to Pei Qing or even about the ownership of Youcheng. It was just a small collaborative project after all.

In fact, Pei Mingshu was more interested in why Mo Yin did what he did. Was it because Pei Qing pressured him? Or did Mo Yin have some hidden difficulties? There must be something he didn’t know. Without clarifying those things, Pei Mingshu didn’t know how to face Mo Yin or Pei Qing in the future.

Moreover, some things would have to be clarified sooner or later.

Pei Mingshu asked, “What’s your relationship with Pei Qing?”

Mo Yin seemed frozen in place, his hand subconsciously gripping the wheelchair, as if he wanted to leave without thinking. But this time, Pei Mingshu didn’t let him escape like last time. He grabbed his wrist before Mo Yin could pull away.

The warmth of another person’s palm covered his hand, firm yet gentle. Mo Yin looked at Pei Mingshu with a panicked expression, his eyes full of fear. Pei Mingshu didn’t let go, just gently said, “Are you two in love?”

Mo Yin’s face went pale, and his breathing became heavier. His lips trembled, and his eyelashes fluttered, avoiding eye contact. He remained silent, not answering, his hand trembling beneath Pei Mingshu’s grip. But he didn’t dare to pull his hand away or try to escape.

Pei Mingshu patiently waited. After half a minute, he spoke softly, “Xiao Yin, answer me. I won’t hurt you.”

Mo Yin buried his head deeply, almost touching his chest with his chin.

Pei Mingshu felt the chilliness of Mo Yin’s hand in his palm. He applied a little pressure, enclosing Mo Yin’s hand completely in his own. “You’re wearing too little. Your hand is so cold.”

Mo Yin remained silent, trying to shrink himself into the wheelchair.

“I don’t mean anything else,” Pei Mingshu said gently. “If you really like Pei Qing and want to be with him, I respect your choice. Whatever you’ve done for that, I understand. I just want to tell you, if you need anything, you can tell me directly. I will help you.”

Pei Mingshu had already dropped enough hints, but Mo Yin’s face turned even paler. His lips were slightly parted, and it seemed like he had made up his mind to remain silent no matter what Pei Mingshu said.

The cabin fell into silence once again.

There were only two choices in front of Pei Mingshu.

Either let Mo Yin go and pretend nothing had happened.

Or press on and ask until everything is clear.

Pei Mingshu was not one to beat around the bush.

Perhaps he had indulged in the ambiguity before, but now, after experiencing the hidden arrow in the public competition, he began to doubt such ambiguity. Maybe, in Mo Yin’s heart, Pei Qing was still more important than him…

He didn’t like to speculate. Therefore, he chose to ask directly. Once everything was clear, many things would fall into place.

Pei Mingshu said, “Xiao Yin, did you leak my plans to Pei Qing?”

As soon as the words fell, Mo Yin, who had been keeping his head down, suddenly reacted. His lips, which had been tightly pressed together, relaxed, and he looked up at Pei Mingshu.

Pei Mingshu looked at him with a gentle gaze, devoid of any hint of blame. He was so magnanimous and tolerant that even if Mo Yin immediately admitted it, he would probably just smile and let it go. He was strong enough that this matter wouldn’t affect him much.

Really admirable.

He was an extremely self-contained person who wouldn’t feel pain because of others’ mistakes. He would only feel remorse if he judged himself to be wrong.

Mo Yin looked at Pei Mingshu with determination in his eyes, his gaze was complicated. He tried to maintain a calm facade, but the shimmering in his eyes betrayed his true emotions.

After Pei Mingshu finished speaking, Mo Yin smiled. Tears welled up in his eyes but didn’t fall. His voice was hoarse as he said, “So… you suspect it’s me…”

“I don’t want to suspect you…”

Mo Yin shook off Pei Mingshu’s hand with too much force, and Pei Mingshu’s grip was too tight. Inertia caused a “thud,” and both Mo Yin and the wheelchair fell to the wooden floor.

“Xiao Yin—”

Pei Mingshu quickly bent down to help, but Mo Yin waved his arms fiercely and said, “Don’t touch me!”

Mo Yin’s voice was low and sharp.

Pei Mingshu’s breath caught, but he reached out again. Mo Yin continued to wave his arms, his face buried in the ground. He didn’t look at Pei Mingshu but flailed his arms wildly. Pei Mingshu knelt on the ground, quickly grabbed both of Mo Yin’s wrists and lifted him up, forcing him to sit in his arms.

There was a sudden warmth on Pei Mingshu’s chest.

Pei Mingshu lowered his head, seeing only Mo Yin’s trembling black hair.

His breathing quickened slightly, with one hand still firmly holding Mo Yin, the other supporting his back to keep him from falling.

Mo Yin’s suppressed sobbing echoed in Pei Mingshu’s ears, and it seemed like he was struggling to catch his breath.

Pei Mingshu’s heart raced, his palms rhythmically patting Mo Yin’s back, murmuring “Breathe” softly. As Mo Yin’s breathing calmed down and his emotions subsided, Pei Mingshu gradually loosened his grip on Mo Yin’s wrists.

But as soon as he let go, Mo Yin grabbed his shirt tightly. He held on so tightly that the fabric stretched taut, and tears kept seeping through the cloth, wetting Pei Mingshu’s chest.

Pei Mingshu’s arms were still wrapped around Mo Yin’s back, supporting him so he wouldn’t collapse.

Mo Yin finally slowly released the hand gripping his shirt, but it felt like an eternity had passed.

Pei Mingshu lowered his head and saw a messy face between Mo Yin’s chest and his black hair.

Mo Yin was still crying, but silently now, tears trickling down his face. His expression was the familiar yet pitiful and stubborn one Pei Mingshu knew so well, filled with unbearable grievances.

Pei Mingshu’s heart clenched.

Mo Yin seemed lost in his thoughts. He trembled slightly, then turned his face slowly towards Pei Mingshu. His eyes were filled with despairing heartache, his eyelids trembling faintly. His expression was indescribably wounded, a sight Pei Mingshu found difficult to bear.

“How could I betray your plan to Pei Qing? Even if I were to reveal Pei Qing’s plan to you, I would never disclose yours to him!”

He had always spoken softly, but the last sentence came out as a shout, piercing and heartbreaking, his emotions on the brink of collapse.

The echo lingered in the empty wooden house.

Pei Mingshu watched Mo Yin’s expression, pouring out his heart regardless of the consequences, and his heart trembled violently.

This was a scenario he had never anticipated.

After Mo Yin’s outburst, he slumped to the ground, his hands covering his face. Tears continued to flow from between his fingers, bending over in anguish.

Some things that should have been deeply buried erupted in such a situation, irretrievable…

Pei Mingshu reached out to him and embraced him again. This time, Mo Yin didn’t resist or push him away. He cried in Pei Mingshu’s arms for a while, even extending his arm to tightly hold Pei Mingshu’s neck.

His warm, moist eyes pressed against Pei Mingshu’s neck, dampening his throat and lungs.

They held each other so tightly, beyond what was appropriate.

“I know I’m a man…”

Mo Yin’s voice calmed down again, but with a deep, suppressed despair.

“…and still disabled…”

“Xiao Yin—”

Pei Mingshu interrupted him softly, his tone somewhat unsteady.

But Mo Yin continued on his own.

“We’re simply not meant for each other.”

Suddenly, Pei Mingshu found Mo Yin’s words oddly familiar.

He lowered his head, and Mo Yin had already lifted his face to look at him. The arms clinging tightly to Pei Mingshu’s arm had slid down slowly. His eyes were filled with reluctance, yet it seemed like he had finally made up his mind to let go of something.

In Pei Mingshu’s mind, memories began to piece together, accurately recalling a scene from the past.

In a quiet attic, the two brothers spoke face-to-face. In the corner of his vision, there was a small door he had overlooked or simply ignored at the time. Later, Mo Yin suddenly evaded him with an aloof demeanor…

Pei Mingshu’s pupils suddenly contracted, and his eyes fixed tightly on Mo Yin.

Mo Yin gave a bitter smile. “Pei Qing said he doesn’t mind,” he said slowly, turning his face away, his tone gradually calming, or perhaps it was more like resignation. “Someone is willing to accept me, and I’m already content.”

“I can answer all your questions now.”

“I didn’t reveal your plan to Pei Qing. I don’t know why his plan resembles yours.”

“I am with Pei Qing now.”

“He will soon take me away from here, and I won’t come back.”

Mo Yin paused, then smiled again. He turned his face, his eyes brightened by tears, and looked at Pei Mingshu with determination, unwilling to miss any subtle changes in Pei Mingshu’s expression. “Don’t worry, I won’t have the chance to go to your study again, won’t cause you any trouble anymore.”