Chapter 55

“Where’d you go? It took so long.” Pei Jingchen clasped Su Qingci’s hand, his expression turning pale. “Why are your hands so cold?”

Su Qingci replied, “I touched cold water in the restroom.”

　　Pei Jingchen quickly wrapped his hands around hers to warm them. Feeling Su Qingci’s gaze out of the corner of his eye, he couldn’t help but chuckle wryly. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

　　Su Qingci averted his gaze, tilting his head to the right and leaning against Pei Jingchen’s shoulder.

Pei Jingchen froze, a wave of warmth flooding his heart. He smiled and asked, “Tired?”

　　Su Qingci shook his head. “No.” He had only leaned on him for less than a minute before standing up again. A slight emptiness filled Pei Jingchen’s heart, and he pressed his lips together, feeling a lingering sense of regret.

Su Qingci asked, “Didn’t Chairman Su come?”

Pei Jingchen nodded, confirming he hadn’t seen him. Su Qingci was secretly startled. Wu Lin had business dealings with the Pitt Group. Last year, Su Baidong had even humbled himself to get Su Qingci to handle matters with Vivian for this very reason. Now, the daughter of their business partner was getting engaged, yet Su Baidong was absent? This didn’t make sense.

Just as he was pondering, the emcee in the distance began the proceedings. Su Qingci suddenly noticed something even more peculiar: at an engagement ceremony, neither set of parents for the two brides had arrived? No relatives either. The emcee stood alone on the stage like a lone ranger. Just as he announced, “Please welcome the two brides,” waitstaff pulled open the doors. Vivian and her fiancée, arm in arm, strolled down the wisteria-covered walkway.

　　Just then, a piercing cry of “Vivian!” rang out from outside—in Russian. Rushing in was the chairman of the Peter Group, Vivian’s father.

The unexpected turn left all guests, including Su Qingci and Pei Jingchen, utterly stunned.

　　Chairman Peter stormed straight to Vivian, raising his hand without a word and slapping her across the face! Mrs. Peter followed closely in her high heels. Though she didn’t strike anyone, her eyes widened in fury as she glared down at Zhou Junjie with vicious hatred.

　　The engagement ceremony ground to a halt. The crowd had arrived in high spirits but departed in utter bewilderment.

Later, Su Qingci and the others learned that Vivian and Zhou Junjie’s romance had never been approved by their families. First, there was the issue of mismatched social standing—Vivian came from a wealthy family, while Zhou Junjie belonged to the middle class, a vast disparity. Second, given her background, Vivian had no say in her marriage. Her father had long arranged a business-alliance marriage for her.

After a fierce argument with her family and finding her protests futile, Vivian stubbornly organized her own engagement ceremony, personally handwriting and sending out the invitations. She insisted on a grand affair, inviting every major tycoon she could reach, drawing a media frenzy to prove to the world she and her beloved would never be parted.

“I won’t give in,” Vivian sobbed into the phone to Su Qingci. “I’m just afraid Junjie won’t hold out. I’m afraid she’ll back down first.”

　　Su Qingci asked what Zhou Junjie meant. Vivian sobbed harder, her words breaking into fragments: “When my dad took me away, she just watched from afar. She didn’t call out to me or pull me back. I screamed her name desperately, but she never answered… Sniff… Sniff… Mr. Su, if you were me, what would you do?”

　　Su Qingci didn’t need to think. With his extreme temperament, he’d only do something even more reckless and crazy than Vivian. Did they really think mere family pressure could make him give up on Pei Jingchen? Impossible!

　　Vivian sobbed uncontrollably: “Later, Junjie came to my place to find me. My dad kept a tight watch, confining me indoors. We could only talk through the window. I said, ‘Let’s run away together. Let’s go somewhere no one can find us and live happily.’ But she didn’t agree. She only asked for the portrait you painted. I cried and asked her, ‘Do you only want the painting? Not the real me?’”

　　Su Qingci remained silent for a long while. Only when the sobbing on the other end subsided did he speak: “Vivian, one-sided affection leads nowhere. Only mutual commitment can sustain a lasting bond.”

　　Vivian cried herself hoarse, deliberately saying, “That’s too profound. I don’t understand.”

Su Qingci urged Vivian to think it through herself. As he hung up, the autumn wind whistled outside the window, growing ever more desolate. Su Qingci suddenly remembered that Frost’s Descent was approaching.

　　For the final solar term of autumn, Pei Jingchen suggested hot pot, claiming its fiery red broth would warm them through the entire winter.

Su Qingci inwardly scoffed at this new-age nonsense, yet he eagerly changed clothes to join Pei Jingchen at the hot pot restaurant—after all, it was hot pot! Hesitating even a second would be disrespectful to the dish.

　　The double-sided pot steamed vigorously, its tempting red chili oil bubbling hot. Steam fogged the windows. Bored while waiting for the food, Su Qingci pressed his fist against the glass, then drew five dots above it, turning it into a tiny footprint.

　　When all the dishes arrived, Su Qingci went to the self-service area for condiments. Returning, he discovered the single footprint had become a pair.

After the hot pot, thoroughly warmed through, Su Qingci stepped out first. Pei Jingchen followed, reaching back to take his hand and tuck it into his trench coat pocket.

　“It’s not cold,” Su Qingci said.

Pei Jingchen smiled but kept his hands in his pockets.

As they strolled toward home, they suddenly spotted roasted sweet potatoes being sold by the roadside. Su Qingci glanced at them twice before walking past, but Pei Jingchen stopped and asked the vendor to buy two.

　　The roasted sweet potatoes steamed hot, almost too warm to handle. Pei Jingchen peeled one while blowing on it to cool it down, then held it out to Su Qingci with both hands. He took a bite—soft, sticky, and sweet.

　　Pei Jingchen chuckled softly, reaching out to wipe away a speck of soot that had settled on Su Qingci’s nose.

His fingers, still warm from the sweet potatoes, felt slightly hot against his skin. Su Qingci glanced at him, then pulled out a damp wipe from his pocket—left over from their hotpot dinner—and gently wiped his own nose. “All done?”

　　“Mm.” Pei Jingchen reached out again, gently wiping away the sweet potato pulp from the corner of Su Qingci’s mouth. After wiping it away, his fingertips lingered on his lips, hesitating.

Pei Jingchen’s gaze was deep, his eyes piercing. He slowly leaned closer, tilting his head slightly. Su Qingci turned his face away and took a step back. Pei Jingchen stiffened, the fingers that had been caressing his lips veering off course, falling limply to his chin.

“Xiao Ci…”

“Let’s go,” Su Qingci interrupted him.

Pei Jingchen concealed the bitter smile in his eyes. “Let’s go home.”

　　The roasted sweet potato cooled quickly, and the warmth it had left on his palm faded. Su Qingci tried to pull his hand out of Pei Jingchen’s pocket, but he held it tightly. After two unsuccessful attempts, he gave up.

　　Back home, Pei Jingchen immediately knelt down to help Su Qingci change his shoes, just as he had done countless times before. But this time, Su Qingci was quicker. He grabbed his slippers herself, slipped them on, and then said earnestly to Pei Jingchen, “I can do it myself.”

　　Pei Jingchen hummed in acknowledgment, reaching for Su Qingci’s discarded coat only to have him sidestep him and hang it on the rack himself.

Pei Jingchen entered the room to turn on the lights, then fetched water from the kitchen. Su Qingci took a sip before he helped him settle onto the sofa.

　　The room was quiet. The TV wasn’t on, leaving no background noise to escape into.

Su Qingci looked at Pei Jingchen, and Pei Jingchen looked back at Su Qingci. Their gazes met, and in that split second, a meteor seemed to flash across the sky. It landed in the depths of Pei Jingchen’s eyes, radiant and brilliant. The meteor failed to illuminate Su Qingci’s pupils, which remained heavy and gloomy.

Pei Jingchen’s features perfectly blended all the best traits of his parents. He inherited his facial structure and thick hair from Pei Haiyang, while his eyes and nose bore a striking resemblance to Fang Qiong.

　　Through those eyes, Su Qingci seemed to see Fang Qiong, and hear her thunderous voice: “I can’t bring myself to say those two words, but don’t you know deep down? How much time do you have left? Three years? One year? Six months? The truth is, you’re not the one who can grow old with Xiao Chen.” Just look at yourself now—pale and sickly, skin and bones, gasping after a few steps, unable to care for yourself. What else can you offer Xiao Chen besides being a burden?”

He could fearlessly twist logic to confront Fang Qiong, yet he couldn’t ignore the truth in her words.

　　Su Qingci gave a weary smile, breaking their gaze. “I can pour my own water. I don’t need your help.”

Pei Jingchen took the empty glass from his hand. “Su Qingci, it’s not that you need my care. It’s that I need to care for you.”