Su Qingci knew he was dreaming.
He crouched beneath the slide, idly scribbling patterns on the brick pavement with a pebble. The park was vast, with two children’s play areas. This one was the smallest, featuring only an old, straight slide. The larger area on the other side had a spiral slide, a tunnel slide, swings, and a space walk—the kids all preferred that side. Consequently, this spot was deserted, rarely visited, and never disturbed him.
When he heard the exclamation, “What a beautiful drawing!” he trembled like a frightened kitten, shrinking his small body deeper into the darkness.
Through his limited vision, he saw a pair of white sneakers approaching step by step, following the pattern on the ground.
The dream ended. Su Qingci rolled over and plunged into another one.
The old slide had been dismantled, leaving only the large one in the distance—big enough for adults to play on.
“Your eighteenth birthday here… isn’t that a bit…” Pei Jingchen began.
“This spot’s perfect. I like it here.” He sat on the slide, legs dangling, swinging leisurely.
“Jingchen, you really don’t remember?”
“Remember what?”
“…This is the north gate of the park. There used to be a slide at the south gate too.”
“I know. Wasn’t it torn down ages ago?”
“…Forget it. I’m really upset.”
“Why are you upset?”
“Upset that you’re so hopeless. What kind of brain do you have?”
“Qingci, have you had too much to drink? Why are you saying such nonsensical things? Alright, alright, don’t be angry. It’s all my fault anyway. I’m sorry, okay? Getting upset won’t do you any good. Here, Su Qingci, happy birthday.”
“Jingchen, I really… like you so much. So much, so much.”
Su Qingci’s labored breathing jolted him awake from the nightmare. In the darkness, it felt like countless hands were squeezing his throat. He tried to pry them apart, but there was nothing around his neck.
Today was overcast. Heavy, dark clouds hung low, occasionally rumbling with muffled thunder, as if brewing a downpour.
As Su Qingci stepped onto the balcony to collect laundry, Pei Jingchen returned.
He thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. Only when Pei Jingchen dragged his suitcase inside, took the clothes from his hands, and urged him back indoors did Su Qingci recall Pei Jingchen mentioning an early morning flight yesterday. He’d even asked if Su Qingci wanted soy milk and fried dough sticks from the old street.
Su Qingci looked at Pei Jingchen: dressed in a bespoke suit, wearing a luxury watch worth nearly a million on his wrist, carrying a laptop and suitcase in his left hand, while his right hand held a three-yuan cup of multigrain soy milk and a one-yuan milk-flavored fried dough stick.
It was a bit comical. Su Qingci chuckled inwardly and turned back into the house.
Pei Jingchen had rushed back immediately after landing. After breakfast, he changed clothes while muttering, “Remember to take your medicine. I’m heading to the office and will be back before lunch.”
Su Qingci propped his chin on his hand, gazing out the window. “You don’t need to come back.”
Pei Jingchen selectively ignored him again. He placed the glass of water and medicine box where Su Qingci could easily reach them before rushing out the door.
Su Qingci remained lost in thought, not moving even as the water grew cold. Having slept poorly the night before, he now felt exhausted. Lulled by the incomprehensible background noise from the TV, he drifted into an uncomfortable second nap. He was eventually roused by the sound of the door lock. A successful unlock produced the satisfying “beep-beep-beep,” while a failed attempt emitted the “beep-beep-beep” that would drive anyone with OCD mad.
Su Qingci sighed softly, burying his head beneath the pillow. All the floor-to-ceiling windows were drawn tight with curtains—the outside couldn’t see in, nor could the inside see out.
After three failed password attempts, Su Qingci’s phone rang. It was the person outside calling. He didn’t answer. The phone rang again. Pei Jingchen shouted through the door and windows, “Qingci! Qingci!”
Su Qingci picked up the phone. Pei Jingchen’s hurried breathing sounded like drumbeats, pounding heavily against his eardrums. “Did you change the password?”
Su Qingci replied flatly, “There’s also the lock cylinder. Password plus fingerprint—neither can be omitted.”
A tremor crept into Pei Jingchen’s voice: “You’re using such high-tech just to deal with me? Su Qingci, don’t do this.”
“Pei Jingchen, let’s just live our separate lives. I’ve already made it clear I rejected you.” In the darkness, Su Qingci’s fingers turned pale and white as he gripped the phone. “You’ve disrupted my life.”
Pei Jingchen: “…Qingci.”
Su Qingci hung up immediately.
He wanted to tell him to stop clinging on, to forget about trying to be a pathetic sycophant like himself! Precisely because he’d experienced it, he didn’t want Pei Jingchen to taste it too.
Things had come to this. Let them each find peace.
Pei Jingchen didn’t bang on the door or smash the window. Su Qingci breathed a sigh of relief, waiting until evening before daring to pull back the curtains. He knew Pei Jingchen must have left long ago, but out of caution, he glanced toward the door. That’s when he spotted the man in a suit, sitting on a wicker chair in the courtyard, typing away on his laptop.
Su Qingci froze in shock.
Had Pei Jingchen been sitting there since noon? Just sitting silently, guarding, never leaving?
Moreover, he showed no sign of leaving. His nimble fingers danced expertly across the keyboard. Occasionally, he’d lift his head to stretch his neck, then glance toward the villa, as if waiting for the owner to soften and open the door.
Fine, really fine. Go feed the mosquitoes! Su Qingci coldly slammed the curtains shut and went back inside to sleep.
The next morning, after a restless night, Su Qingci felt terrible. Yawning, he checked his phone. Pei Jingchen’s message sat at the top, marked with a bright red number 5.
[Are you up?]
[I bought breakfast for you. It’s hanging on your doorknob.]
[Feel free to open the door and take it. I won’t come inside.]
[It’s pretty warm today, but don’t overdo the cooling. Set the AC to 26 degrees Celsius.]
[Remember to take your medicine and check your temperature.]
Su Qingci felt a wave of irritation. He pulled back the curtains and looked outside—Pei Jingchen was still there!
Could it be? Had he been waiting outside for a full day and night?
Suddenly, Su Qingci recalled a piece of gossip from his school days. It told of a hopeless romantic who, desperate for his girlfriend’s forgiveness, he waited all night with a bouquet of roses beneath her dormitory. The heavens seemed to conspire with him, unleashing a sudden downpour that amplified the scene’s tragic grandeur. After enduring a full day and night, he finally moved his girlfriend to tears. The lovesick fool then announced their sweet reunion on social media, posting a photo of himself hooked up to an IV drip in the hospital while his girlfriend tenderly fed him porridge.
Su Qingci didn’t care if people laughed at him—he was actually a little envious. If he ever had a falling out with Pei Jingchen, Pei Jingchen would absolutely never try to coax him back.
A day and a night—no downpour, but blazing sun. Su Qingci extinguished the anger in his chest with a cold laugh. He was a sunflower—unafraid of the sun!
Su Qingci gritted his teeth. Outside, Pei Jingchen seemed to sense his mood and looked up. Their eyes met, and Pei Jingchen’s gaze instantly softened, as gentle as a clear spring.
Su Qingci frowned and decisively drew the curtains. Seconds later, his phone vibrated.
[Don’t keep the curtains drawn—you need more sun.]
[Rest assured, I won’t disturb you.]
Su Qingci typed and sent: [Your mere presence here is already disturbing me.]
Su Qingci walked to the living room and called security. Soon, sounds came from outside—the security guard escorting Pei Jingchen away. Su Qingci exhaled, then looked out the window again. Pei Jingchen was indeed gone.
At the same moment, his phone vibrated. It was a message from Pei Jingchen: [I’m sorry.]
Su Qingci instructed the security to bar Pei Jingchen from entering the complex henceforth.
The security department fulfilled their duty diligently, maintaining strict vigilance against visitors “blacklisted” by residents. Not seeing Pei Jingchen for several days brought Su Qingci considerable relief. He thought back to if someone had told him before that one day he’d be avoiding Pei Jingchen, trying every means to cut ties with him. Back then, Su Qingci would have dismissed them as some enemy’s joke. Him cutting ties with Pei Jingchen? Impossible!
Su Qingci had always considered himself soft-hearted, but now it seemed his heart had grown hard. Scrolling through his chat history with Pei Jingchen, it was hard to believe those cold, distant, and resolute words had come from him.
Another coughing fit shook Su Qingci violently, causing his phone to slip from his grasp and crash onto the cold tile floor.
Half an hour later, Su Qingci picked it up. The screen was shattered, cracked into an ugly spiderweb pattern.
In just a few short days, first the phone, then the computer—they’d both started malfunctioning, lining up to declare themselves scrap to their battered owner.
Su Qingci mocked himself for becoming sentimental. He thought the phone might still be salvageable. Walking to the community gate, the security guard greeted him with a smile, then nodded toward the opposite side of the road. Su Qingci instinctively looked over, his pupils contracting.
A Koenigsegg pulled up at the curb, and Pei Jingchen stepped out, his handsomeness almost overwhelming.
Su Qingci laughed bitterly in frustration. What the hell was this? Their roles had completely flipped. Even a sketch comedy wouldn’t be this dramatic. It wasn’t funny at all!
“Pei Jingchen, are you some kind of stalker? You’d be wasting your talent not working as a paparazzo!”
Pei Jingchen looked slightly disheveled, though his suit remained impeccable—the image of a successful man commanding respect wherever he went. “I just… wanted to be closer to you.”
Just like back then, when he deliberately took the opposite bus route, adding an extra hour to his commute just to pass by the outer wall of Su Qingci’s villa, listening for any sound of him crying. Now, he just wanted to wait outside the compound. Even though countless layers of greenery blocked his view, his eyes seemed to possess X-ray vision. He could pierce through the dense foliage and walls, watching Su Qingci move about inside the villa.
Su Qingci’s heart skipped a beat, an indescribable sensation of pain and numbness.
“Where are you going?” Pei Jingchen wondered if he was running low on supplies at home and heading out to shop—especially for cocoa powder. His trunk was full of it, freshly bought yesterday. He’d been pondering how to hand it over to Su Qingci without being refused.
“Shuimu Fanghua,” Su Qingci said, reaching out to hail a cab. Pei Jingchen pressed his hand down, his expression momentarily frozen before quickly returning to normal. “I’ll drive you.”
*
Su Qingci sat at a booth, while Pei Jingchen took a seat at the far end of the bar. A bartender asked him what he’d like to drink, but he declined, his gaze fixed intently on Su Qingci.
Su Qingci didn’t order a drink, only a fruit platter. With his looks and demeanor, appearing in such a place was like unearthing gold bars in a remote mountain village. Barely a minute after sitting down, someone beat others to the punch and approached him: “Hey, handsome, all alone?”
Su Qingci shot a glance at the heavily made-up man but said nothing.
Silence meant no refusal. The man, flattered, pulled up a chair beside him. “It’s boring alone, isn’t it? Let’s chat.”
Su Qingci asked what he did. The man chuckled, calling himself a third-rate has-been, then inquired about Su Qingci’s work. “Painter,” Su replied. The man instantly grew respectful. “No wonder you radiate such artistic flair.”
The has-been declared chatting alone was dull, suggesting they drink. He hailed a passing waiter and ordered a bottle of whiskey.
Su Qingci remained impassive as the man poured two shots. He handed one to him, but before he could take it, a sudden hand snatched it away. The movement was too swift—Su Qingci’s fingertips accidentally brushed against Pei Jingchen’s hand.
Seeing someone break the rules and snatch the sugar daddy, the poser jumped up in excitement, demanding what Pei Jingchen thought he was doing. Pei Jingchen didn’t even glance at him, his sharp gaze fixed on Su Qingci’s face: “You can’t drink.”
“Who the hell are you to boss around Teacher Su?” Hu Ka yelled.
Su Qingci scoffed. “Yeah, what gives you the right?” He reached out to grab the glass.
Pei Jingchen raised his hand, smoothly downing the whiskey in one gulp. He slammed the glass down, grabbed Su Qingci’s wrist, and pulled him toward the exit.
The drunkard fumed, “Hey, you can’t leave! Stop—”
Su Qingci was dragged outside. The summer night breeze swept over him, making him feel completely transparent. He was pinned against the wall, facing Pei Jingchen’s gloomy expression. “It hurts. Let go.”
Not only did Pei Jingchen not let go, he tightened his grip on Su Qingci’s wrist even more. “Su Qingci, don’t provoke me like this.”
Su Qingci turned his head away, his voice languid. “Is Mr. Pei suffering from an overinflated ego?”
Pei Jingchen’s eyes were as dark as night, simmering with something. “Even if you want to be with someone else, don’t choose that trash to disgust me. And don’t debase yourself.”
Su Qingci laughed at this, turning his gaze to meet Pei Jingchen’s directly, his tone laced with defiance: “What kind of trash? Oh, right. Compared to Mr. Pei, that third-rate nobody really is nothing special. So if I were to abandon a quality man like you for some cheap street vendor, I’d be utterly ungrateful. Being with you is a match made in heaven; choosing anyone else would be self-degradation. I never knew you were this narcissistic before—you’re truly noble.”
“You don’t need to put on this extreme, sharp-tongued act to force me to hate you and push me away. “Pei Jingchen’s gaze was dark and intense. His voice wasn’t loud, yet it thundered through Su Qingci’s chest.
They were inches apart. He could smell the lingering scent of alcohol on Pei Jingchen’s breath, while Pei Jingchen could catch the fragrance of Su Qingci’s hair—a delicate, elegant lavender scent.
Suddenly, Pei Jingchen leaned closer. Su Qingci flinched, trying to pull away. But Pei Jingchen’s lips skimmed past his face, landing on his slightly flushed earlobe. He gently bit the soft flesh and murmured, “Let’s go home.”