The hustle and bustle of the city was swallowed up by the thick snow, leaving only the rustling sound of wheels rolling over the wet and cold road.
The black Maybach S680 is like a silent ship, steadily cutting through the thick night and flying snowflakes, heading towards the Qin Mansion, a manor halfway up the mountain on the outskirts of the city with few lights but a symbol of absolute power.
In the back seat, Qin Yuheng slumped lazily in the premium calfskin leather chair, his expensive cashmere coat casually open, revealing a neatly ironed black turtleneck sweater underneath.
The light outside the car window flickered on his handsome face, outlining his delicate jawline and the pair of phoenix eyes that had now removed all disguise.
Deep in his eyes, there was no longer the false tenderness or cruel teasing he had when facing Ning Yunmeng. Only an almost pure tiredness and a barely perceptible, childlike expectation remained.
He tilted his head slightly and looked to the side.
Qin Yuzheng was resting his eyes. A dark grey coat was draped over his arm, a matching cashmere sweater underneath, fitting snugly against his broad, straight shoulders.
His cold, pale face, in the dim light, seemed even more profound, like a sculpture carved with a knife and an axe. His thin lips were tightly pursed, and between his brows was a hint of the lingering coldness and domineering pressure that had accumulated over the years.
Even when he is resting, he exudes a cold aura that tells people to stay away from him.
The car was filled with the woody scent released by the top-level fragrance system, which was as clear as a pine forest after snow, mixed with Qin Yuzheng's unique smell, which was as clean and dangerous as a cold weapon.
Qin Yuheng's eyes almost greedily traced the lines of his brother's profile, from the full forehead, to the high and steep nose, to the thin lips that were always pressed into a cold and hard straight line.
His gaze finally fell on the pair of closed eyes. Only at this moment could he gaze so unscrupulously, without having to hide the almost morbid obsession and devotion deep in his eyes.
That was his light, his faith, the only end and meaning of all his crazy actions.
Cautiously and extremely slowly, he leaned his body a little bit towards Qin Yuzheng, close enough that he could clearly feel the reassuring warmth emanating from him, but at a distance that would not wake him up.
The scent lingering around his nose became clearer, relaxing his tense nerves little by little as if they were soaked in warm water.
Outside the car window, snowflakes silently hit the glass, leaving behind water marks that melted away in an instant.
The car was completely silent, with only the low hum of the engine and the almost inaudible breathing of the two people interweaving.
After an unknown amount of time, the Maybach drove into the solemn gate of the Qin family manor, followed a private road lined with tall cedars and covered with thick snow, and finally stopped in front of the grand and cold gate of the main house.
The moment the car stopped, Qin Yuzheng's eyelashes trembled slightly, and then opened.
Those eyes, as deep as a cold pond, instantly regained clarity, sharp as a blade unsheathed, with the power to pierce through everything, as if they had never closed. He subconsciously glanced at the person beside him.
The moment Qin Yuheng opened his eyes, he leaned back on his chair very naturally and with a bit of laziness, and even yawned a little in cooperation.
A physiological glint welled up in the corners of his eyes, like a large, sated cat drowsy after a meal. The almost greedy gaze from before seemed to have never happened.
"Brother, are we here?" His voice was hoarse as if he had just woken up, and his eyes were just a little hazy.
Qin Yuzheng's gaze stayed on his face for half a second. No emotion could be seen in those deep eyes. He just said "hmm" lightly.
He pushed open the car door, and the biting cold air instantly rushed into the warm compartment.
Qin Yuheng immediately got out of the car. The cold wind blew snow particles in his face, making him subconsciously shrink his neck.
He took two quick steps, like a big dog that couldn't be shaken off, and followed Qin Yuzheng closely at a distance of half a step, and stepped onto the cold stone steps of the main house together.
The heavy carved door opened silently, and warmth and bright light poured out, instantly dispelling the cold and darkness outside.
However, this expensive mansion, built by a top designer, is surprisingly empty inside. The huge crystal chandelier emits a brilliant but cold light, reflecting the shiny marble floor and the cold lines of modernist furniture.
There are no colorful lights or New Year decorations, only the omnipresent, ultimate simplicity, order, and a chilling feeling that penetrates the bones. It's like a meticulously crafted, yet cold, modern art museum.
The servant stepped forward silently and took the coats that the two men had taken off, his movements as light as a ghost.
"Sir, Master Yuheng, dinner is ready." Butler Lin Bo bowed slightly, his voice steady and calm.
Qin Yuzheng walked straight towards the restaurant without stopping, leaving only a cold back.
The disguised laziness and tiredness on Qin Yuheng's face disappeared in an instant, and a trace of loss flashed across his eyes, but was quickly replaced by his usual, nonchalant smile.
He shrugged, put his hands in the pockets of his black trousers, and followed with his long legs.
The dining room was equally large and spacious. A long black walnut dining table, large enough to accommodate twenty people, was only set with exquisite tableware at the main seat and a spot adjacent to it.
Above the head is a geometric chandelier with a strong sense of design. The cool white light is evenly distributed, making the reflection of the plates and silverware a bit dazzling.
Qin Yuzheng sat down at the main seat, while Qin Yuheng naturally pulled out the chair to his right and sat down.
This distance has been his privilege since he was a child, and it is also his silent declaration.
Dinner was top-notch French cuisine, meticulously prepared by a team of Michelin-starred chefs, each dish a work of art. Yet, the only sound in the restaurant was the occasional clatter of knives and forks against bone china plates.
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