Chapter 3

There were raindrops on the phone screen. He wiped them off roughly on his coat, opened the surveillance feed, and rewound from the current time.
Xi Siyan realized his hands were shaking.
At 11:30, he saw Jing Miao—who had been sitting in the living room writing—suddenly look out the window. Then he stood up, went back into the room to change clothes, used the landline to dial a number, and—clearly—failed to get through. In the end, Jing Miao took an umbrella and went out.
He must have been calling Xi Siyan.
At that time, Xi Siyan was in his defense; his phone had been forced into airplane mode. Unable to reach him, Jing Miao went out with an umbrella.
It was raining. He knew Xi Siyan hadn’t brought an umbrella.
He had gone to pick him up.
Xi Siyan opened the location wristband app—yet it still showed Jing Miao inside the apartment. He was about to go mad.
He started running, not caring that the rain soaked him through. This time, when he got back, he was going to implant a tracker chip into Jing Miao. Hurt? Then endure it.
Stupid kid.
He cursed in his head and ran faster and faster.
“Gege!”
He hadn’t even run fifty meters out of the gate when that voice yanked his soul back from the cliff’s edge.
Jing Miao was squatting by the wall. His pants and shoes were drenched. His pale, beautiful face was lit up with excitement the moment he saw Xi Siyan.
Xi Siyan rushed over and pulled him into a fierce hug, losing control as he scolded:
“What are you doing out here! Didn’t I tell you to wait for me?! Why weren’t you wearing the locator wristband? Do you have any idea you almost scared me to death?!”
The enraged man held Jing Miao’s thin body as if he wanted to grind him into bone and blood. He kept yelling, and the weightless pain in his chest didn’t ease even with Jing Miao in his arms.
“Are you trying to make me die?! Are you happy if I die?!”
A grown man, 185 centimeters tall, pressed his forehead to Jing Miao’s narrow shoulder. He couldn’t tell whether his face was rainwater or tears.
Sometimes, in despair, Xi Siyan thought: Jing Miao, why don’t we just die together?
In the most unbearable first year, Xi Siyan had thought more than once: why didn’t Jing Miao die?
He ignored the home alarm. He cut his hand and hid away to smoke. He pretended his phone signal was bad when the housekeeper said Jing Miao had run out.
If Jing Miao died, it would be better.
In the second year, Xi Siyan began to stop resisting. With a moral shackle on his back and a child who could attempt suicide anytime, he was gnawed at by double torment every second. Then he began thinking: if I died, it would be better.
In the third year—until this very moment—Xi Siyan changed again.
He had been frightened out of his mind too many times. His hands shook, his heart hurt, his brain screamed for rest, yet every nerve kept dancing on the edge of collapse.
Jing Miao couldn’t live alone. Xi Siyan couldn’t die alone.
So why not die together?
One clean end.
“Gege… I’m sorry, gege. I saw it was raining. I was afraid you’d get wet.”
Jing Miao was so thin, so small—Xi Siyan felt like if he tightened his arms even a little, he could snap him in two. That fragile paper kite didn’t fight back; instead, he burrowed into Xi Siyan’s chest affectionately.
“Gege—gege is wet!”
Then he started crying:
“Why did gege still get wet?! Miaomiao is useless! They wouldn’t let me into gege’s school! I couldn’t get in, and gege got wet!”
Jing Miao’s crying dragged Xi Siyan back to reason.
He had been about to run back for Jing Miao; the professor’s umbrella must have been thrown away at some point—too much drag.
Xi Siyan stroked his face and wiped away his tears, forcing himself gentle though his chest still heaved and his voice still trembled:
“Be good, Miaomiao. Gege forgot to bring an umbrella. It’s not your fault.”
He took the umbrella from Jing Miao’s hand, pulled open his windbreaker, and showed the dry shirt underneath.
“Look. My coat is waterproof. I’m not wet. Touch it—this shirt is dry.”
Jing Miao reached out dubiously and pressed a hand to his chest. It really was dry—warm, too.
His eyes were still red from crying, yet he smiled the next second.
“Gege didn’t lie to me.”
“How could gege ever lie to Miaomiao? Let’s go home first, okay?”
Xi Siyan’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He guessed the driver had arrived. He drew Jing Miao inside his coat, held him close, and with one umbrella searched through the moving crowd and traffic for their Bentley.
“Young master!” Uncle Yang waved to them from across the street, holding an umbrella.
The flashy Bentley drew attention. Xi Siyan didn’t care. He shielded Jing Miao carefully and eased him into the back seat—only to be stopped by someone calling out.
“Xi Siyan?”
The sight of Xi Siyan holding an umbrella overhead with one hand and protecting someone with the other—so careful, so guarded—was a first for Zhong Yuan.
Xi Siyan turned and saw a classmate he wasn’t close with.
“Oh. Zhong Yuan.”
Zhong Yuan smiled. “I haven’t congratulated you yet—congrats on passing your defense.”
“Thanks.” Xi Siyan nodded politely, already looking for an exit to this sudden small talk.
Inside the car, Jing Miao reached out with a pale wrist and tugged at him.
“Gege, get in.” His face was full of worry, and in his eyes there was only Xi Siyan.
Zhong Yuan tilted his head slightly and caught a glimpse of Jing Miao’s face.
Xi Siyan stepped subtly to block the view. “Then I’ll go first.”
“Okay. Bye.”
Zhong Yuan watched Xi Siyan get into the car. The driver in a suit quickly drove away.
So the rumors were true.
He was a master’s student from Hengda who had come to Huada for his PhD—same research group as Xi Siyan, different advisors. Even before he arrived at Huada, he’d heard the name Xi Siyan everywhere: genius student, wealthy background, campus heartthrob. He had imagined some free-spirited golden boy.
In reality, after three years as classmates, he had barely seen Xi Siyan outside of class—let alone become friends.
Later he heard gossip from students who had been in the same master’s cohort: gossiping about that prodigy’s sexuality; gossiping that there was a boy kept at home—first said to be a younger brother, then a “child bride,” then a boyfriend; some even claimed it was a mistake from his youth, an illegitimate child…
There was curiosity, and also a private desire.
Zhong Yuan had liked Xi Siyan the first time he saw him.