The room fell silent again, leaving only Chao Youye's violent heartbeat and suppressed breathing.
On the bedside table, the half-eaten strawberry cake exuded a greasy sweet aroma, which was incompatible with the cold despair and self-loathing in the air, but it stubbornly existed, like an unignorable mockery from the mortal world.
What should he do?
Ye Qingliu's words echoed in his ears like a cold spell: Mu Xinrong is outside.
Go out? Face those eyes filled with pain and resistance? Endure the gaze that nailed his soul to the pillar of shame?
Or... continue to hide in this cold room like a coward until the core completely collapses?
The huge fear was like a cold vine, wrapping around his heart, getting tighter and tighter.
He curled up in pain and buried his face deep in the pillow, trying to isolate himself from the omnipresent pressure called "choice".
Yet, the sweet scent left by Hua Jinyue, the cool touch of Ye Qingliu's fingertips, and the real feeling of food in his stomach... all silently reminded him: You are alive. You are in this mortal body. You cannot escape.
In the villa's dining room, the morning light pours in through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, coating the long solid wood dining table with a warm golden color.
Ye Qingliu was wearing a well-ironed shirt and a cashmere vest, with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing his sleek forearms.
He was standing at the counter in the open kitchen, skillfully and precisely placing the final touches on the plate. A perfectly fried sunny-side-up egg, with a beautiful crispy golden edge, sat atop slightly charred, steaming whole-wheat toast.
Next to it were a few slices of temptingly fried bacon and a small portion of fruit salad drizzled with honey. Milk was steaming in a glass.
His movements were smooth and rhythmic, as if he was conducting a precise experiment.
Mu Xinrong sat at the dining table, the same breakfast already laid out before him. But he barely moved. His head bowed, his hands unconsciously twisting the napkin in his lap, his eyes fixed on the smooth wood grain of the tabletop.
The fatigue from a sleepless night was clearly engraved on his face. The dark circles under his eyes were deep and his complexion was still a little pale.
Hua Jinyue sat next to Mu Xinrong, sipping a cup of hot milk, her big eyes curiously looking back and forth between her silent brother and the distraught senior Mu.
"Brother," Hua Jinyue finally couldn't help but speak, breaking the silence, her voice filled with the satisfaction of having just eaten breakfast and a little pride.
"I just gave that sick brother some water! I also fed him my strawberry cake! He doesn't seem to be feeling so bad now!"
Her big eyes were sparkling, full of anticipation of "Praise me quickly".
Ye Qingliu carried the last of his breakfast to the dining table and sat down opposite Mu Xinrong. He put the plate down with an elegant and calm movement.
Hearing his sister's words, he looked up at Hua Jinyue. There was no surprise in his gray-blue eyes behind the lenses, only a very faint, almost invisible trace of approval, like a breeze blowing across a deep pool.
"Yeah." He murmured in response.
Then he picked up the knife and fork and began to cut the fried egg on the plate with standard movements, as if what had just happened was just an insignificant episode.
Hua Jinyue was immediately satisfied after receiving his brother's affirmation (although it was only one word). He stopped asking questions and focused on dealing with the remaining bacon on his plate.
Mu Xinrong was suddenly brought back to his senses by Hua Jinyue's words. He raised his head and looked at Ye Qingliu in surprise, then at Hua Jinyue, who looked innocent and satisfied.
Did Chao Youye...drink water? And eat cake? Was it Hua Jinyue...who did this?
A complex light flashed in his eyes. Hua Jinyue's purity and passion were like an invisible key, seemingly able to open the tightly closed door of Chao Youye's heart, while he... could only bring pain and resistance.
This realization caused the bitterness and powerlessness that had just been suppressed in his heart to surge up again.
He lowered his head and used his fork to unconsciously poke at the cold fried egg on the plate, his courage disappearing like the ebbing tide.
Maybe... he should leave. Disappear from his sight before Chao Youye completely collapses.
Just like Ye Qingliu said, avoidance will only make the wound fester, but at least... the wound will not be torn apart bloodily in front of each other's eyes.
Just as Mu Xinrong was consumed by despair once again—
“Squeak…”
An extremely slight and hesitant sound of a door hinge turning came from the direction of the corridor leading to the guest room.
The sound was like thunder in the quiet restaurant!
Mu Xinrong's hand holding the fork shook violently, and the metal fork fell onto the porcelain plate, making a crisp and sharp "ding-dong" sound!
He raised his head suddenly as if he was electrocuted, his heart stopped beating in an instant, and all the blood in his body seemed to rush to his head!
I saw a figure moving out from the shadow of the corridor very slowly and with difficulty.
———It is the morning leaves.
He was wearing a loose, somewhat empty hospital gown, and his figure was so thin that it seemed as if a gust of wind could blow him down. His face was still pale, almost transparent, and his lips were bloodless. His short black hair was a little messy and stuck to his sweaty forehead.
He held onto the cold wall with one hand, his fingertips turning white from exerting force, his body slightly hunched, as if every step exhausted all his strength.
The violet eyes were lowered, and the long eyelashes cast a heavy shadow under the eyes, covering up all the emotions in them.
He just stood there, leaning against the wall, breathing slightly, not looking at anyone in the restaurant, his eyes fixed empty on the floor not far from his feet.
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