“You want to practice problems again?” Lin Xingchen looked at him.
Pei Qingjian shook his head. “Of course not. Although I do really like practicing problems, this time it’s not for that. This time I’m really going to test the waters and see what he’s actually thinking.”
Lin Xingchen didn’t think it was necessary.
“Forget it. Anyway, given his level of competence, hiring him is a win for me. Let him do whatever he wants.”
“At the end of the day, he’s following the proper procedures. As long as his boss is satisfied, that’s all that matters.”
Lin Xingchen replied to the HR manager: [It’s fine, you can take a break.]
Seeing how unconcerned he looked, Pei Qingjian thought to himself, Is that it? He’s just going to ignore this?
But he couldn’t, could he? They’d been friends for over twenty years—could they really just cut ties like that?
He recalled what Lin Xingchen had said that day, and the meal he’d gone out of his way to have with him.
Lin Xingchen himself must have cared deeply about this friend at one point, too.
“I think I’ll go check on him.” After finishing his meal and waking up, Pei Qingjian consulted Lin Xingchen once more before leaving. “What if he’s hatching some scheme and I don’t even know about it?”
Lin Xingchen chuckled softly. “What kind of scheme could he possibly have?”
“Who knows? Know your enemy and know yourself, and you will win a hundred battles. Just wait for my good news of victory.”
Seeing how eager he was, Lin Xingchen didn’t try to stop him.
After all, he was actually a bit curious about Xu Ya’s visit, but his rationality had suppressed those feelings.
Lin Xingchen didn’t want to waste any more time on Xu Ya; he feared that in the end, he would only face deeper disappointment.
But since Pei Qingjian kept urging him and repeatedly offered him a way out, he went along with it.
“Suit yourself,” he said.
Pei Qingjian knew he wasn’t completely indifferent.
After all, it was a friendship he had gone out of his way to preserve. If possible, Pei Qingjian still hoped he could get what he wanted.
Even if it was a little late.
“I’m leaving,” he said, picking up his lunch box. “Don’t see me off—otherwise I’ll end up running into him again.”
Lin Xingchen nodded and added, “Then let him walk you out. That way, Tang Wenzhen won’t pop up out of nowhere later.”
That sounded like a good idea.
Pei Qingjian nodded and left Lin Xingchen’s office.
Xu Ya was busy working, glancing out the window from time to time.
Around this hour, Pei Qingjian should be leaving.
He wondered if Lin Xingchen had gone to see him off. If not, would Tang Wenzhen suddenly show up again?
Just as he was thinking about it, a colleague called out, “Xiao Xu, someone’s here to see you.”
Xu Ya looked confused. “Who?”
“No idea. Looks like a pretty well-behaved guy. Is he your younger brother?”
Xu Ya: ???
He stood up and walked out.
When Pei Qingjian saw him, he raised a hand and waved, a faint smile on his lips.
Xu Ya was surprised—it was actually him.
The two went to an empty meeting room.
Xu Ya poured him a glass of water and handed it over. “What’s up?”
“Came to see you,” Pei Qingjian said, taking the cup. “And also to ask—why did you come here?”
“They were hiring. I met the requirements, passed the screening and interview, so I came,” Xu Ya said, sitting across from him.
Pei Qingjian clicked his tongue. “You know that’s not what I mean. There are so many companies out there—why this one? You know your relationship right now is… awkward, don’t you?”
Xu Ya: …
He fell silent.
Of course he knew it was awkward—so awkward that he couldn’t even go directly to Lin Xingchen.
He was afraid Lin Xingchen would still treat him the same way as that day—cold, unwilling to even spare him a glance.
“I promised him before—if he ever wanted to start a business, I’d stay by his side. But later, I broke that promise.”
“He’s already doing very well now. If I join at this point, it’s like I’m taking credit for his success. But I want to make up for what I did back then, so I chose this way.”
His tone was calm. “I graduated from a top university and did well academically. Coming here, I can still be of some use.”
Pei Qingjian hadn’t expected that.
“So why did you break your promise back then? Because of Xu Jianian?”
Xu Ya nodded without speaking.
Pei Qingjian found it almost impressive. “You really liked Xu Jianian that much?”
Xu Ya looked up at him and explained, “He was in a bad place back then. Really down. I was worried about him.”
And he was also worried that if he left, and Lin Xingchen later regretted things, he wouldn’t even be able to find him.
“Then weren’t you worried about Lin Xingchen—the one you left behind?”
Xu Ya froze.
“And Xu Jianian wasn’t worried either? Not worried that the person he’d had a crush on for four years was being treated like this by his own friend—someone who broke their word? Didn’t he think that might hurt him?”
That was a perspective Xu Ya had never considered.
He tried to defend Xu Jianian. “He didn’t know about all that.”
“He had a crush on Lin Xingchen for four years and confessed in senior year. By then, Lin Xingchen had already started preparing for his startup, right? You lived in the same dorm. You were already helping Lin Xingchen with the early stages, right? And he noticed nothing? Didn’t care at all? You never mentioned any of it to him?”
Xu Ya: …
He remembered now.
There had been a time he came back late, and Xu Jianian had asked why—said the school gates were about to close.
He had casually replied, “I was helping Xingchen with his startup stuff—looking at office locations lately, so I’ve been getting back late.”
So… he did know.
Seeing him fall silent, Pei Qingjian knew Xu Jianian hadn’t been completely unaware.
“So he didn’t like Lin Xingchen all that much, huh?”
“He was already struggling himself back then—he didn’t have the energy to think about anything else,” Xu Ya defended again.
Pei Qingjian smiled. Or maybe he did have the energy—people were just selfish. Xu Ya chose Xu Jianian over Lin Xingchen, and Xu Jianian was perfectly happy with that.
“Does he know you’re here now?”
“Not yet. Once I pass the probation period and decide to stay, I’ll tell him.”
“And if he wants to come here too?”
“I don’t have the authority,” Xu Ya said calmly. “I’m just an ordinary employee.”
“And what if he wants to come see you? Maybe also take the chance to see Xingchen?”
Xu Ya: …
“I’ll be joining a production soon, so I won’t be coming here every day. When I’m not around, will Xu Jianian come? Will he secretly go see Lin Xingchen?”
Xu Ya seemed to realize something. “You’re an actor?”
“Yeah. Not famous though—just a small-time actor.”
That explained it. Xu Ya had never heard of him.
“I won’t let him come,” Xu Ya said after a moment’s thought. “I know Xingchen doesn’t want to see him. And if you’re not around, then it’s even less appropriate for him to show up.”
Pei Qingjian clicked his tongue. He really had improved.
“Really?”
Xu Ya nodded.
He looked at Pei Qingjian seriously. “I know you don’t like me. Maybe you don’t trust me either. But from the beginning, the reason I wanted them to be together wasn’t just because Xu Jianian liked Xingchen—it was because I believed Xingchen needed someone who could love him wholeheartedly.”
“There are many people who like him. But I lived with Xu Jianian for four years—I know him inside and out. I saw his feelings clearly. He wasn’t after money or anything else. He just genuinely liked him as a person.”
“That’s why I wanted them to be together. I wanted Xingchen to have someone who could always love him.”
“They could build a new family together. And he would never have to lose his family again.”
“His family?” Pei Qingjian asked, puzzled.
Xu Ya looked surprised. “Xingchen didn’t tell you?”
Pei Qingjian shook his head.
He searched through the original host’s memories but found nothing relevant. Most likely, Lin Rui had never told him either.
“What happened to his family?” Pei Qingjian wondered.
His phone lay face-down on his lap, out of Xu Ya’s sight, quietly recording.
—Sometimes retelling couldn’t fully capture what someone meant, so he wanted Lin Xingchen to hear it for himself.
Not filtered through him.
He held himself back from asking more about it. If Lin Xingchen heard the recording later, he didn’t want to reopen old wounds.
“So you won’t let Xu Jianian come, right?” he steered the topic back.
Xu Ya nodded. “Right.”
“What if he begs you? Asks you to help him?”
“He’s not someone who lacks boundaries like that.”
“And if he is?”
Xu Ya fell silent for two seconds before answering, “Then I’ll refuse.”
“Remember what you just said.” Pei Qingjian stood up, ready to leave.
“I’ll walk you out,” Xu Ya said.
That had been Pei Qingjian’s plan anyway, so he didn’t refuse.
They left the meeting room and stepped into the elevator.
While standing inside, Pei Qingjian suddenly asked, “So you’re not trying to break us up anymore?”
Xu Ya: …
He looked a little awkward. “What happened before was my fault. I apologize.”
Pei Qingjian shrugged. “Honestly, we’re not close. Whether you apologize to me or not doesn’t really matter. The person you should apologize to is Lin Xingchen.”
Xu Ya didn’t argue. He lowered his head. “But he probably doesn’t want to hear it.”
“Whether he wants to hear it is one thing. Whether you do it is another.” Pei Qingjian turned to look at him.
He pulled out his phone, holding it up toward Xu Ya. “Want to apologize?”
Xu Ya froze.
Pei Qingjian had already opened Lin Xingchen’s WeChat and pressed the voice message button.
Xu Ya looked at him. His lips moved, but it took a while before he finally spoke.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m the one who wronged you.”
Pei Qingjian released the button and sent the message.
Xu Ya stared at the phone, as if waiting for a reply—yet not quite daring to expect one.
But even after the elevator doors opened, even after Pei Qingjian reached his car, there was no response on WeChat.
Maybe Lin Xingchen was too busy to listen.
Maybe he had listened, but didn’t feel like replying.
Or maybe… he simply didn’t want to forgive him.
There was no reply, but the matter, in a way, was already over.
Xu Ya watched as Pei Qingjian got into the car and said, “Drive safe.”
“Mm.” Pei Qingjian responded lightly and started the engine.
At 6:10 p.m., Lin Xingchen got off work and returned home.
Pei Qingjian brought out the dishes he had cooked, and they ate dinner together.
Afterward, he played the recording of his conversation with Xu Ya from earlier that afternoon.
Lin Xingchen was surprised. “You recorded it?”
Pei Qingjian nodded. “Yeah. That way you can hear exactly what he said.”
Lin Xingchen: …
He had to admit—that was thoughtful.
He ate fruit after dinner while listening to the recording.
When it finished, he didn’t say a word.
Pei Qingjian tilted his head at him. Lin Xingchen noticed and popped a grape into his mouth.
Pei Qingjian bit into it—juicy, sweet with a hint of tartness—his eyes still fixed on him, faintly puzzled. “What do you think?”
“Think about what?”
“Xu Ya.”
Lin Xingchen gave a small smile, so faint it was almost imperceptible.
“I don’t think anything.”
His voice was light—neither happy nor sad.
Pei Qingjian looked at him, then said nothing more.
Three feet of ice doesn’t form in a single day.
It was true Lin Xingchen had once treasured Xu Ya deeply—but it was equally true that he had later been deeply disappointed. Those disappointments had piled up, far beyond what a few words or a single act could undo.
Pei Qingjian picked up an orange from the fruit plate, peeled it, and broke it in half, handing him a portion. “Here.”
Lin Xingchen smiled, took it, and ate.
He had actually heard the voice message Pei Qingjian sent earlier.
It wasn’t Pei Qingjian’s voice—it was Xu Ya’s.
A guilty Xu Ya.
But he hadn’t felt happy, nor unhappy.
Just a little surprised—and then, calm.
If that apology had come three years earlier, he would have been happy.
But it came too late.
So late that he no longer needed it—and it no longer meant anything.
“My family…” Lin Xingchen suddenly recalled the question Pei Qingjian had asked in the recording.
He remembered the flicker of curiosity and confusion in that moment.
Pei Qingjian had probably wanted to know, but held back out of consideration for him.
“My parents passed away in an accident when I was young. My grandmother died when I was in high school. In my freshman year of college, my uncle got married—and not long after that, my grandfather also passed away.”
Pei Qingjian hadn’t expected that. He looked at him in shock.
“…I’m sorry,” he said.
“It’s fine,” Lin Xingchen replied. “Life and death are just part of being human. No one can do anything about it.”
But no one would wish for that.
Pei Qingjian looked at him silently, his eyes quiet as a still night, grief lingering within.
Seeing that sadness, Lin Xingchen reached out and pulled him into his arms.
He pinched Pei Qingjian’s cheek and smiled. “Why that expression? It’s all in the past.”
Pei Qingjian didn’t speak. He just wrapped his arms around Lin Xingchen’s waist.
In that moment, his heart ached fiercely for him.
No one understood better than he did what it felt like to have no family left by your side.
They were the same.
Both the ones left behind.
“What about your grandparents?” he asked softly.
“My grandmother passed away when my dad was still a student. As for my grandfather… he wasn’t a good person. His death was a good thing.”
Pei Qingjian: …
He pulled him into a tighter embrace.
Lin Xingchen sighed helplessly. “I didn’t tell you all this so you’d feel like I’m pitiful.”
“I know,” Pei Qingjian said softly, resting his head against him.
“Then what is this…?”
Because feelings don’t listen to reason.
Of course he knew Lin Xingchen was only answering the question he had raised in the recording—but that didn’t stop him from feeling for him.
Pei Qingjian turned it over in his mind, trying to come up with something to say. Then suddenly, as if struck by an idea, he looked up at him. “With our relationship, isn’t it normal for me to hold you like this?”
As he spoke, he deliberately tightened his arms a little more.
Lin Xingchen laughed. “Alright, alright. Go ahead.”
Pei Qingjian leaned back against him again, resting over his chest.
Lin Xingchen pinched his cheek lightly, the corners of his eyes curving with a faint smile.
He didn’t go to see Xu Ya after that, nor did he run into him at the company.
The 27th and 29th floors—just one level apart—cleanly separated them into two different worlds.
Xu Ya waited one day, two days, three days… and by then, he understood—this was Lin Xingchen’s answer.
He couldn’t help but feel disappointed.
But so what?
He deserved it.
He stayed on the 27th floor, carrying on with his work day after day.
Everything continued in steady order—Lin Xingchen went to work as usual, Pei Qingjian still brought him lunch every day, Tang Wenzhen kept trying to get close to Pei Qingjian without success, and Xu Ya continued trying to make up for things in his own way, through his work.
Amid this routine, Pei Qingjian received a call from Zhou Pengyue.
“We’re about to start filming. I’ll come pick you up in a couple of days,” Zhou Pengyue said.
Pei Qingjian shot upright like a carp flipping out of water. “Really?!”
“Yeah. Pack your things these next couple of days.”
“Okay!” Pei Qingjian said excitedly.
Finally! His “college entrance exam” had arrived!
It was time to test his real acting skills!
Practically vibrating with excitement, he said, “I’ll definitely do my best—won’t drag the production down!”
Zhou Pengyue thought back to his previous acting and felt a bit conflicted. “I… hope so.”