Each person sat comfortably on the couch. A servant brought a new cup of tea and placed it in front of Qin Mingyuan. He nodded slightly in acknowledgment.

“I don’t know what kind of good day it is today, but it seems we have two distinguished guests visiting,” Huo Lijuan said with a soft smile as she stood up. “You all keep chatting, I’ll go instruct the kitchen to prepare a few more dishes. Tonight’s going to be lively.”

After she left, the atmosphere fell quiet for a few seconds. Yun Haowei glanced around, realizing he couldn’t afford to offend either of these two men. Carefully, he broke the silence, “I really didn’t expect this. Xiao Yue only suffered a small injury, and yet we have President Qin and Young Master Liang personally coming over to visit.”

At these words, Liang Zichen’s eyes darkened slightly. He raised his gaze to look at the man sitting alone on the single sofa, impeccably dressed in a sharp suit.

Used to being in a position of power, the man exuded an aura of authority. His legs were crossed, leaning back slightly against the sofa, his expression cold and distant, with no discernible emotion, as if he were ready to give orders at any moment.

That same feeling often arose when Liang Zichen was in front of his own mother.

President Qin, Young Master Liang—Liang Zichen’s lips still carried a smile, but there was something brewing in his eyes.

Just a title alone seemed to stretch the gap between their statuses, which was frankly unpleasant.

His smile deepened, as if his sitting position was uncomfortable. He shifted, stretching out and resting one arm on the back of the couch, as if casually circling Yun Yuexian, who sat beside him. “I also didn’t expect to meet the busy President Qin. Managing such a big corporation, you must be swamped.”

Qin Mingyuan’s gaze briefly fell on his arm, easily seeing through his intentions. Unmoved by the provocation, Qin Mingyuan took a sip of tea and said calmly, “Well, when you’re your own boss, the schedule is more flexible.”

Liang Zichen’s smile stiffened for a second, but he quickly recovered. He was well-versed in controlling his expression, so he simply smiled again without saying more.

Yun Yuexian sensed something off about the atmosphere. The tension between the two, caused by him, filled him with delight, especially in regard to Qin Mingyuan. The man’s recent neglect had left him feeling stifled for a long time. Last time, at the film set, Qin Mingyuan even had the nerve to eat with that crippled guy, ignoring him entirely.

For a while, he had really wondered if Qin Mingyuan had lost interest in him. But now, it seemed that wasn’t the case at all. Men, after all, only find motivation when there’s competition.

Thinking this, Yun Yuexian chuckled softly, as if oblivious to the tense atmosphere. “Speaking of which, Brother Zichen, aren’t you joining the film crew soon? Yet you still made time to visit me.”

“There’s some family business to handle these past few days, so I delayed joining the crew,” Liang Zichen explained, glancing again at the sharply dressed man. “Even if I were with the crew, if you got hurt, I’d find time to come visit.”

He lowered his gaze to the person beside him. His naturally charming eyes, filled with affection, stared at Yun Yuexian without blinking, a gaze that no one could resist.

Yun Yuexian blushed slightly, lowering his head in embarrassment. After a while, he couldn’t help but steal a glance at Liang Zichen, and they exchanged a smile.

Seeing his son and the Young Master of the Liang family getting along so well, Yun Haowei felt a surge of joy. But just as a smile appeared on his face, he glanced at the man sitting on the single sofa. Qin Mingyuan’s expression remained as still as water—was he jealous?

While they were lost in their own thoughts, Qin Mingyuan didn’t care at all. His hand tapped lightly on his knee, maintaining his composed and inscrutable demeanor, though his mind had long drifted elsewhere.

This was a habit he had developed from dealing with his grandfather. Even the elders who had raised him from childhood couldn’t tell when he was distracted, let alone these outsiders.

From the moment he entered, the Yun family hadn’t mentioned Yun Pei even once. All they did was talk about Yun Yuexian’s injury, repeatedly emphasizing it, as if afraid no one would notice.

They kept saying it was a minor injury and that it no longer hurt, but their constant reminders said otherwise.

As for that stubborn little Mimosa, who knew if he was hiding away in his room right now? He wondered if Yun Pei had seen the things online.

Given his personality, Yun Pei probably wouldn’t pay special attention to Yun Yuexian. As long as no one bothered him, he likely wouldn’t even consider his half-brother.

Then again, who could say? Last time, Yun Pei went so far as to be a hand double just to upset Yun Yuexian.

Though he appeared indifferent and unobtrusive, Yun Pei clearly wasn’t someone who would let himself be easily pushed around.

Qin Mingyuan looked at Yun Yuexian. Otherwise, how could someone with so little wit end up getting his head smashed?

“Hiss.”

The person under his gaze suddenly drew in a sharp breath, raising a hand to cover his forehead as if the wound had started to hurt again.

Liang Zichen leaned in with concern, checking whether the bandage on Yun Yuexian’s forehead had come loose.

Yun Yuexian shook his head, his face a little pale, but he bravely insisted it was nothing. He even turned to give Qin Mingyuan a reassuring smile, as if to say he didn’t need to worry.

Not that Qin Mingyuan was particularly concerned. He sat there, calm and steady, his gaze unaffected, lost in thought about how to check on that little Mimosa plant.

Yun Yuexian’s smile faltered slightly. He wondered if he had pushed things too far. A little jealousy could spice up a relationship, but provoking real anger could exhaust his patience, and that wouldn’t be good.

He shifted slightly, putting a bit of distance between himself and Liang Zichen, settling into a spot that wasn’t too distant but not overly intimate either. Then he gestured toward the small plate on the table. “Brother Mingyuan, Brother Zichen, try some of these cookies. Mom made them herself, and they’re really good.”

“Yes, yes, give them a try. His mother is great at making these sorts of things,” Yun Haowei finally found a chance to chime in, reaching out as if to push the plate closer. But realizing the two were seated in different directions, he awkwardly pulled his hand back.

Liang Zichen smiled politely and took a cookie, though he didn’t eat much. After all, as an actor, he had to maintain his figure and couldn’t consume too much sugar. Qin Mingyuan, on the other hand, had no interest in sweets and didn’t touch the plate. Instead, he tapped his hand lightly and suddenly said, “I’d like to use the restroom, and maybe have a cigarette. You don’t mind, do you?”

Yun Haowei, of course, didn’t mind. “President Qin, make yourself at home. The restroom on the first floor is…”

“I have a bit of a cleanliness issue,” Qin Mingyuan interrupted before he could finish, his dark eyes coldly fixed on Yun Haowei.

Yun Haowei paused, suddenly understanding. The first-floor restroom was frequently used by guests, and though the servants kept it clean and fresh, someone with Qin Mingyuan’s level of cleanliness might still mind. He called over a servant, “Take President Qin to the guest room on the second floor.”

Qin Mingyuan stood up, buttoning his suit jacket. He nodded slightly to those present and followed the servant away.

Yun Haowei frowned as he watched him leave, wanting to ask his son if he thought Qin Mingyuan’s attitude was strange. It seemed like he wasn’t particularly concerned about Yun Yuexian, despite being here to visit him. But with Liang Zichen present, Yun Haowei kept his doubts to himself.

The servant led Qin Mingyuan to the second-floor guest room and, after indicating he could help himself, left without further disturbance.

Watching the servant’s figure disappear around the staircase corner, Qin Mingyuan didn’t enter the guest room. Instead, he wondered which room the little Mimosa might be staying in.

Recalling the layout from the videos he’d seen, based on the window direction and the angle of the sunlight, he made an educated guess and headed in that direction.

He was lucky—most of the doors along this hallway were slightly ajar, except for one near the end, which was firmly closed, radiating an unwelcoming aura.

He paused for a few seconds, then raised his hand and gently knocked on the door.

There was no response for a long time, so he assumed the knock hadn’t been heard and was about to try again.

“I’m not eating dinner,” a hoarse voice came through the door, muffled but audible.

Mistaken for a servant, Qin Mingyuan paused, feeling an inexplicable urge to laugh.

His face remained composed, however, and he calmly spoke, “Yun Pei?”

Inside, there was silence again. This time, it lasted much longer without any movement. Qin Mingyuan raised an eyebrow, not in any rush to act.

“President Qin?”

The voice, uncertain, was now much closer, as if right behind the door. The disbelief in Yun Pei’s tone was clear.

In truth, Qin Mingyuan was also a little surprised by his own actions—going out of his way to find someone like this, even sitting through the emotional drama downstairs. But none of that mattered now. Since he was here, he couldn’t leave empty-handed. “Do we have to talk through the door?”

The air grew heavy again for a few seconds, then there was a soft “click” as the doorknob turned, and the door slowly opened, revealing the person in the wheelchair behind it.

The light in the room was cold and white, casting a pale, chilly glow over Yun Pei.

The contrast between this and the usually sunny scenes in his art videos was stark. Yun Pei always seemed to exist in this duality—sometimes warm, sometimes cold, both shy and withdrawn, yet also lonely.

It was as if he could sink into icy waters at any moment, yet something kept pulling him back, leaving him with one foot in the light and one in the darkness.

Qin Mingyuan’s gaze first fell on the corner of his eye, then met his eyes directly. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

Yun Pei’s hand tightened on the door handle. He was always very protective of his personal space, and after what happened yesterday, he was even more reluctant to let anyone in.

He struggled internally for a moment, but remembering how Qin Mingyuan had at least taken him home before, he opened the door fully. This man was different from Yun Yuexian.

Qin Mingyuan had been waiting patiently for Yun Pei’s decision, seemingly unsurprised by the outcome. As Yun Pei backed his wheelchair away, Qin Mingyuan stepped into the room, his tall frame casting a shadow over the smaller, frailer figure, like a lion entering a small animal’s den.

The room wasn’t small, but the furnishings were sparse. It was clear the space was designed for convenience, with no unnecessary decorations to obstruct wheelchair movement.

His gaze swept over to the window, where a painting was displayed on an easel. It was the same one from the recent video release, and seeing it in real life gave him a sudden sense of dissonance, as though reality and online imagery had collided.

Maintaining basic politeness, Qin Mingyuan turned and asked, “May I take a closer look?”

Yun Pei glanced at the painting, and for some reason, a wave of embarrassment washed over him. His fingers twitched on his lap, but he pretended to be indifferent and nodded slightly.

Noticing Yun Pei’s ears flushing red again, Qin Mingyuan calmly averted his gaze and walked over. As he got closer, the smell of watercolors became more distinct, and the texture of the paint strokes was more visible.

He reached out and touched the edge of the canvas, feeling the rough surface typical of the material. After a moment, his eyes were drawn to the desk on the other side of the room.

On the desk sat a porcelain cup, seemingly broken and repaired. Under the cold white light, the remaining intact parts gleamed softly.

Could this be the weapon used in the scuffle?

Qin Mingyuan speculated, but quickly dismissed the idea. The cup seemed to be cherished by its owner, so it was unlikely to have been used as a weapon.

After a pause, he thought again—perhaps this was the trigger that had led to the altercation.

He felt that he was onto something, but chose not to ask further. Acting as if he hadn’t seen anything, he turned back around.

Yun Pei, sitting quietly in his wheelchair, was watching him. When their eyes met, Yun Pei suddenly felt a bit uneasy and looked away, searching for something to say. He realized there were no chairs or sofas in the room because of his wheelchair.

He didn’t have friends, and no one ever came to visit. As for the other three members of the Yun family, he would be more than happy if they stayed away because of the lack of seating.

After hesitating for a while, he reluctantly pointed to the neatly made bed. “You can sit there.”