Chapter 13 Cohabitation (1) That was twenty-two-year-old Wen Chen, and two...

Before you lies an incredibly spacious top-floor apartment. At the entrance, a complete floor-to-ceiling glass curtain wall unfolds the city's dazzling night view at your feet, like a magnificent yet silent painting of shimmering light.

Wen Chen's gaze was sharp and discerning. As a top designer, his professional instincts kicked in, and he unconsciously began to scrutinize the apartment. The apartment was at least 600 square meters, meaning that even living under the same roof, they could easily live a life where they almost never saw each other, if they so desired. This was something Wen Chen was quite satisfied with today.

He silently calculated in his mind, his gaze already taking in the structure. The minimalist color scheme of black, white, and gray, with its clean lines devoid of any superfluous elements, perfectly reflected the owner's aloof and detached calm. Outside the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, the city's dazzling night view unfolded, like a galaxy framed in glass.

A black leather sofa, a sharply styled metal coffee table, and a marble floor that coldly reflects the lights embedded in the ceiling.

The entire space, like its owner, was devoid of any warmth or human touch. Wen Chen stood beside Gu Moheng, adjusted her glasses, and sighed inwardly: This doesn't feel like home.

"The room is over there, facing south, with a private bathroom and walk-in closet. Next door is a studio prepared for you. The rooms have already been cleaned and tidied." Gu Moheng's voice broke the silence, pointing to the end of the corridor. Qin Shu had already brought Wen Chen's suitcase, which stood quietly on the expensive Italian handmade carpet.

Wen Chen slowly raised her eyes. Her clear eyes, hidden behind gold-rimmed glasses, were now like the most sophisticated probes, scrutinizing the man in front of her inch by inch.

There was no questioning, no anger.

That gaze was terrifyingly calm, like the still, lifeless surface of the sea before a storm.

Gu Moheng's heart skipped a beat when he saw that gaze. On the surface, he maintained his calm and composed demeanor, but the fingers hanging at his sides curled up involuntarily.

Were you seen through?

This thought grew wildly like weeds, instantly seizing his breath.

Wen Chen said nothing. He withdrew his gaze, as if that glance had merely confirmed an insignificant detail. His brows furrowed slightly; judging from Gu Moheng's words, he intended for him to stay here for a while. He didn't want that and hoped the media outside his door would leave as soon as possible. Thinking this, Wen Chen silently strode over, squatted down, and prepared to open his suitcase.

"I'll do it." Gu Moheng's voice came from behind. He took off his suit jacket, leaving only a white shirt with the cuffs tightly buttoned, and his squatting motion appeared somewhat stiff.

“No need,” Wen Chen straightened up, calmly creating distance between them. “I can do it myself.”

Gu Moheng's fingers froze in mid-air as he looked up at him intently.

Wen Chen didn't shy away and calmly asked, "Mr. Gu, is there anything to drink?" He didn't want the atmosphere to become too awkward before leaving.

Gu Moheng pursed his thin lips into a straight line, silently got up and walked towards the open kitchen. Soon, a glass of perfectly warm water was handed to Wen Chen.

Wen Chen thanked him softly, took the water glass from Gu Moheng, drank a few sips, and placed it on the nearby counter. No longer paying attention to Gu Moheng watching her from behind, she opened her suitcase. A few changes of clothes, a few professional books, and a digital display. Just a few items, simpler than the luggage of a renowned designer.

He skillfully hung the clothes in the wardrobe and neatly arranged his belongings.

Gu Moheng stood at the door, like a silent sculpture, his gaze fixed intently on Wen Chen's thin back.

This figure has appeared in his dreams countless times over the past eight years.

Until the wardrobe door closed with a soft "click".

Wen Chen turned around. "Mr. Gu, you've been standing there. Is there something you want to say?"

Gu Moheng's Adam's apple bobbed almost imperceptibly. His unfathomable eyes greedily traced Wen Chen's features, as if trying to fill in the eight years of emptiness in a single glance.

"nothing."

"I've packed my things. Thank you for taking me in, Mr. Gu."

Gu Moheng looked at him and said, "The elevator password is your birthday."

Wen Chen's smile froze instantly, his fingertips curling involuntarily, before quickly returning to normal. "I understand, thank you." He paused, then looked up. "It's late, Mr. Gu, you should get some rest too."

The door closed in front of him.

“Clatter.”

A soft sound, like a guillotine falling, severed all his cautious attempts to spy.

That expensive solid wood door cut off the last trace of warmth remaining on Wen Chen's body, and pushed him back into this cold and empty world.

Gu Moheng stood there for a long time. Long enough that the door panel, reflected in his deep pupils, became an insurmountable tombstone. Long enough that the lingering, cool, and slightly medicinal scent of Wen Chen from that door panel completely vanished in the empty room.

He then turned and walked towards the study at the other end.

The figure's silhouette against the excessively empty living room exuded a sense of utter loneliness.

Push the door open and enter, then lock it from the inside.

He dialed Qin Shu's number.

The phone was answered almost the instant it rang.

"President Gu."

"His assistant didn't suspect anything from the video, did he?"

"Yes, I have done as you instructed, having the video shared on Weibo and buying online trolls to boost its popularity. Once that happens, Professor Wen's assistant will naturally see it. Don't worry, there won't be any trace of it."

“Very good.” Gu Moheng walked to the huge floor-to-ceiling window, looking down at the bustling traffic below, his eyes devoid of any warmth. His knuckles tapped lightly on the cold glass, producing a dull “tap, tap” sound.

"Have those people outside his apartment been arranged?"

"It's all arranged." Qin Shu's voice carried a mischievous smile. "They're all small media outlets that previously jumped on the bandwagon and spread rumors. As soon as Mo Sheng's lawyer's letter arrived, they were all terrified. So we used them as an excuse to give them a chance to redeem themselves."

Gu Moheng's lips curled into a cold smile. "Let them keep blocking the door. I've already thought of the topics for them. They can write, 'How will the genius architect Wen Chen respond to the framing scandal?' Or, 'Exclusive interview: Wen Chen at the center of the storm, revealing his inner journey.'"

Qin Shu could almost picture his boss's expression on the other end of the phone. "Yes, the interview outline has been sent to them. Tell them to exaggerate and bring up all of Professor Wen's awards and works from the past eight years, and make a special report about it. Let the whole internet know what kind of genius they were slandering before."

Gu Moheng chuckled lightly, his fingertips tracing a thin line across the cool glass. "Very good. It clears his name and gives me a chance."

Killing two birds with one stone has always been his forte.

Before Qin Shu on the other end of the phone could figure out what opportunity he could give his boss, Gu Moheng's voice came through again, coldly, "Keep a close eye on him."

"Keep this momentum going for at least two months."

What he wanted was never temporary shelter, but an inescapable opportunity to start anew.

"clear."

The call ended.

The study fell silent once more.

Gu Moheng stared at his blurry reflection in the glass. His once invincible face in the business world now bore only a lingering weariness. He had woven a net with his own hands. A net, ostensibly for "protection," but impenetrable. Then, he coaxed his beloved bird, step by step, back into its cage.

...

On the other end of the phone, Qin Shu put down his phone and let out a long sigh of relief.

He rubbed his aching temples and angrily turned on his computer—on the screen, he had revised the document "Key Points for Publicizing the Glorious Deeds of Teacher Wen Chen.docx" no less than ten times.

Evil capitalism!

-

late at night.

A subtle discomfort in his stomach jolted Wen Chen awake from his light sleep. He sat up, stood silently in the darkness for a moment, and decided to go to the kitchen to get some water.

Barefoot on the cold marble floor, the apartment was warm enough that the heating was on, but not bone-chillingly cold. The entire apartment was very quiet, with only the distant city lights casting faint shadows on the floor through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

As he passed a room, he abruptly stopped. The living room was pitch black, except for a thin sliver of orange light filtering through a heavy study door ajar in the far end of the corridor opposite his room.

Gu Moheng...is he still awake?

He should have turned around and left, returning to the room that had been meticulously prepared for him, a room even more luxurious than a five-star hotel suite. But his feet seemed to be entangled by invisible vines, nailed to the spot.

As if possessed, Wen Chen took a step toward the slit of light.

Another step.

He held his breath, like an inexperienced thief, and peered closer. The main light in the study wasn't on; only a desk lamp on the corner of the table was lit, casting a dim, yellowish light that longed the man's profile onto the bookshelf behind him.

Gu Moheng didn't seem to be working. He was wearing a black silk bathrobe, his tall frame sunken into a large leather chair. The warm light softened the lines of his face, removing all their sharpness. His gaze was quietly fixed on the computer screen in front of him, his expression focused to the point of reverence.

Wen Chen peered through the crack in the door, following his gaze. In just one glance, the blood in her body seemed to freeze instantly.

On the computer screen was a photograph. A faded, blurry old photograph.

Under the ginkgo tree in front of the university library, the autumn sun shines golden and warm. Two teenagers stand side by side, their smiles bright and fearless.

The boy in the white shirt, with deep-set eyes, tilted his head slightly, looking at the person next to him with eyes full of affection. The other one smiled, his eyes crinkling like the sunshine of spring, holding a melting ice cream cone in his hand, looking up and saying something.

Those were Wen Chen, who was twenty-two, and Gu Moheng, who was twenty.

Gu Moheng slowly raised his hand, his slender fingers tracing the face of the carefree boy in the photo with utmost care through the cold screen.

Wen Chen's fingertips were icy cold. He suddenly felt that the air in this 600-square-meter penthouse apartment, which was as empty as a magnificent tomb, was so thin that he was about to suffocate.

He thought he would be angry, that he would use the sharpest words, just like in the hospital room, to puncture this hypocritical performance of deep affection. But at this moment, what welled up in his heart was an absurd and utterly desolate sorrow.

Gu Moheng, what are you acting out now?

Wen Chen slowly straightened up, like a ghost, standing quietly in the darkness outside the slit of light.

How long did you watch it?

One minute, or ten minutes?

He didn't know, but the stretched-out time gave him the illusion of an eternity. So long that he almost thought he would merge with the darkness. Until Gu Moheng turned off the photo, the screen dimmed, leaving only the dim yellow glow of the desk lamp.

Wen Chen heard a very soft, suppressed sigh.

Immediately following was the crisp click of a lighter.

A small flame lit up in the darkness, illuminating the man's weary face.

The smell of tobacco soon drifted out through the crack in the door.

Wen Chen hated the smell. He subconsciously took a step back, his heel accidentally hitting the baseboard in the corner of the wall. The pain from his heel snapped him back to reality, and he fled back to his room as if escaping, until his back slammed heavily against the cold door.

Inside the study.

The instant Wen Chen's figure disappeared, Gu Moheng slowly raised his gaze from the screen, precisely landing on a black glass wine cabinet directly opposite the door of the study. The gleaming cabinet door, like a dark mirror, clearly reflected the fleeting figure at the end of the corridor.

He saw it. He saw it the moment Wen Chen approached.

Gu Moheng slowly leaned back in his chair, raised his hand, and turned off the table lamp.

The entire study was instantly swallowed up by darkness and deathly silence. He remained in that position for a long time, motionless.

A note from the author:

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Finally, I managed to bring Wen Chen home! [Facepalm peeking][Facepalm peeking]