CHAPTER 15: BEEF NOODLES

Back home, Ruan Zhizhi took a hot shower. She was about to relax on the sofa and watch TV when she realized something was missing—her keychain.

She always carried her house keys with her; keys to the basement and office were on the keychain. While she didn’t need them immediately, losing them would still be troublesome.

Strangely, where could it have gone?

She definitely had it when she left in the morning; she clearly remembered locking the door. She also had it in her hand when she went out for dinner with Lu Wanyi. Then…

As she pondered, her phone vibrated. It was a WeChat message from Shi Yan.

Opening it, she found a picture of an adorably chubby little yellow duck, around its neck hung three keys—eerily familiar.

Okay, this duck was definitely her lost keychain. Thinking back, she must have left it in his car on the way home.

Feeling embarrassed by her carelessness, Ruan Zhizhi typed back: “囧, I was just looking for it. Turns out it’s with you.”

Shi Yan replied quickly: “What time did you start work this morning?”

A little puzzled, she responded: “Eight-thirty. Why?”

His reply was almost immediate: “Tomorrow morning, 7:15. I’ll be downstairs at your building to give you the keys and take you out for breakfast.”

7:15? Deliver keys? And breakfast?

Biting her nails, Ruan Zhizhi hesitated, wondering whether she should tell him it wasn’t necessary—she could pick up the keys after work and go to A University on the way—but she didn’t say anything in the end.

….

That night, Ruan Zhizhi had a strangely illogical dream. Li Sicheng returned from the U.S. to A City. On a sunny morning, he stood under her building, smiling and telling her he was back. Then, Li Sicheng started pursuing her frantically, completely different from seven years ago. Ruan Zhizhi nearly doubted his sanity.

Her name had once been the most contemptible to him; when they parted, he discarded her without a second thought.

Li Sicheng coming back for her? Ruan Zhizhi laughed bitterly at herself. It was absurd, a complete fairy tale—she didn’t believe it for a second.

The next morning, Ruan Zhizhi finished her makeup and reached for her wardrobe at exactly seven o’clock. The forecast said the temperature would warm slightly. She chose a double-breasted Korean-style white coat and paired it with black round-toe ankle boots.

By the time she descended the stairs, it was just after seven. Thinking she had arrived ten minutes early, she hummed a tune and strolled leisurely through the complex, even chatting with a neighbor along the way.

When she reached the gate, she immediately spotted the familiar black Land Rover. And there he was, wearing a black trench coat, leaning against the car door, watching her. His gaze was cool, his back straight. He stood there like a brooding statue, isolated from the world, yet as enticing as a poppy.

He was already here? Suddenly feeling awkward in her own slow, casual demeanor, Ruan Zhizhi hurried a few steps forward, feigning urgency. “Why are you here so early? I even left ten minutes earlier on purpose!”

“Afraid you’d wait,” Shi Yan said lightly, his brows relaxed as he reached out to open the car door for her—a gesture so gentlemanly it could be considered lethal.

Ruan Zhizhi felt like she was sitting on pins and needles in the passenger seat. After a moment of tense stillness, she forced herself to speak first, breaking the silence. “Shi Yan, where are we going for breakfast?”

Without turning his head, the man driving asked, “What do you want to eat?”

Ruan Zhizhi paused, a parade of thoughts flickering through her mind—soy milk, fried dough sticks, soup dumplings, duck blood vermicelli. Finally, she swallowed and replied politely and modestly, “Anything, I’m fine with whatever.”

Shi Yan raised an eyebrow, glanced at her, and let out a meaning-laden “Oh.”

Ruan Zhizhi: “…”

Five or six minutes later, Shi Yan pulled over in front of a place called Lu Ji Noodle House. Stepping out, Ruan Zhizhi glanced at the bustling restaurant, crowded with diners. It looked incredibly popular.

The aroma wafting from inside made her exhale in relief—perfectly coincidental, Shi Yan seemed to like noodles too.

Just as they walked in, a table of customers finished their meal and were paying. The owner quickly cleared the table and warmly invited them to sit down.

About ten minutes later, two steaming bowls of beef noodles were placed before them.

Ruan Zhizhi, already starving, reached for her bowl—and immediately yelped as the heat burned her hands, quickly withdrawing it. Shi Yan, expressionless, looked at her like she was troublesome, then lifted the bowl from the edge of the table and set it in front of her. He picked up a clean pair of chopsticks, methodically removed the cilantro floating on top of the noodles, and finally handed them to her. “Eat.”

Ruan Zhizhi looked up, surprised. “You knew I don’t eat cilantro?”

Shi Yan let out a soft chuckle. “Ruan Zhizhi, I know many of your habits.”

Ruan Zhizhi hesitated, then asked what she had long wanted to ask since their first meeting: “The last time I went to A University, I heard from Gu Nian that you studied at UCLA. Did… did we meet somewhere before?”

Shi Yan didn’t answer immediately. He glanced at his watch and slowly snapped open his chopsticks.

With his eyes lowered, his long lashes shadowed his gaze, making it impossible to read his expression. Sitting there quietly, revealing nothing, Ruan Zhizhi couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

He seemed to know everything, yet said nothing—an observer of life rather than a participant.

After a moment, Shi Yan spoke, his calm voice devoid of emotion, like a line from a textbook: “In my sophomore year, I tossed the first draft of a paper I wasn’t satisfied with into the trash in the library. You happened to sit behind me. You thought I threw it away by mistake, retrieved it from the bin, and flattened every page before returning it to me. At the time, I thought, how can anyone be this foolish?”

“Ruan Zhizhi, we’ve met more than once before. Do you really have no memory of me?”

He looked up at her, his dark, deep eyes as intense as the first time they met—fierce and warm, yet beneath them lingered something fragile and profound.

Ruan Zhizhi’s eyes widened slowly, and it took a moment for her to fully comprehend. It wasn’t her imagination—they really had met before.

“Oh… so that’s how it was,” she murmured, pressing her lips together. Memories of college flickered past like shadows. She did recall the library incident faintly, though at the time she had acted only out of goodwill, paying no attention to Shi Yan’s appearance.

Perhaps, as Gu Nian had said, during those four college years her heart had been entirely occupied by Li Sicheng, leaving no room for noticing people or scenery around her.

Shi Yan studied her expression. His eyes darkened slightly, and his left hand clenched under the table, nails pressing into his palm.

He wanted to reach out, to touch her, to hold her, even to possess her completely. In the seven years since, he had imagined countless times that if he could have Ruan Zhizhi, he would willingly trade his soul with the devil for her.

At seven, he lost his mother. Later, he personally sent his father to prison for life. From then on, relatives and classmates regarded him as a calamity, saying he was ill-fated, bringing misfortune to parents, a born disaster.

Shi Yan’s life had no light, no warmth, and no love. His shadow was as dark as his soul, his heart as cold as his body.

He had thought the world a hell, his birth a sin, until he met Ruan Zhizhi.

If he were an uncontrollable beast, he might have already devoured her, merging with her entirely, bound forever.

But he desired her soul even more.

Because he had already surrendered his own.

Shi Yan lowered his eyes, a fire flickering within them, illuminating and extinguishing in the morning light. He drew a deep breath, forcing the beast within to calm.

“The noodles will get cold.”

Ruan Zhizhi, lost in thought, snapped back to reality at his words.

Her gaze drifted to him. Seeing his usual composed demeanor, she thought perhaps he had only remembered her previous “helpful blunder.” If she assumed he had feelings for her over such a small matter, that would be too presumptuous.

Feeling somewhat at ease, she lifted her chopsticks to continue eating—but then sensed a gaze behind her. Frowning, she turned her head.

At the entrance of the noodle house, a black figure passed before her eyes, gone in an instant.

That figure was unmistakably familiar—so familiar that even ashes couldn’t erase recognition.

For a moment, the world seemed to fall silent. Ruan Zhizhi’s fingers trembled unconsciously on her chopsticks, her body turning cold.