After waiting for the car, the two soon arrived at Pei Chuan's home.
For so long, no one had known where Pei Chuan lived. Even Pei Haobin still didn't know.
Pei Chuan lived in a garden-style apartment building. The location wasn't particularly good—quiet and secluded, yet quite close to the old neighborhood, just about ten minutes away by car.
The apartment building had twenty-five floors in total, and Pei Chuan lived on the top floor.
He took out his keys to unlock the door. Seeing her eager expression, Pei Chuan paused for a moment, taking a second to confirm that there were no dirty socks or men's underwear lying around in his home.
When the door opened, Bei Yao needed to change her shoes.
It was only then that Pei Chuan remembered this issue.
He was about to say, "Don't bother, just come in as you are," but before he could speak, the girl had already kicked off her two little snow boots.
Her enthusiasm was endearing.
His gaze fell on her feet—they were much smaller than his palm, clad in fluffy sky-blue socks. Because the floor was cold, her toes curled slightly. Pei Chuan gritted his teeth, bent down, and searched for his own slippers for her to wear.
He rarely had visitors, so the concept of spare slippers was unfamiliar to him.
Pei Chuan, however, did not take off his shoes—he was wearing his prosthetic leg and couldn't let her see it.
Bei Yao didn't notice the faint bulging veins on his arm as he handed her his shoes.
For someone without lower legs, Pei Chuan was most sensitive about his pants and shoes.
They were a pair of very large men's slippers. He had always been adept at concealing his emotions, lowering his gaze so she wouldn't see the restraint in his eyes.
Bei Yao was delighted—she changed her shoes as soon as he suggested it. His slippers were too big for her, making her look like a child wearing an adult's shoes.
Though his heart ached with bitterness, Pei Chuan couldn't help but watch her expression.
Under the crystal chandelier in the living room, her eyes sparkled brightly, moist and filled with joy.
There was no trace of disdain or discomfort on her face, nor did she question why he hadn't taken off his shoes.
His tense muscles relaxed slightly.
There was an advantage to her innocence and cuteness—at least it wasn't the feigned indifference and tolerance of an adult.
Her voice was crisp, like the gentle ringing of wind chimes: "Pei Chuan, your home is so big and quiet! No couplets pasted, no lanterns bought?"
"Mm."
She added, "May I sit down?"
Pei Chuan said, "Yes."
She settled onto the sofa.
Pei Chuan's apartment was indeed quite spacious—over 140 square meters—and with him living alone, it felt cold and empty. The furniture was all in icy shades of black, white, and gray. The only vibrant color was the young girl in soft yellow sitting on the sofa.
He felt somewhat awkward.
Bei Yao said, "The box contains dumplings. My mom and I made them. You should put them in the fridge."
Pei Chuan followed her instructions and placed them in the refrigerator. When he turned around, he saw the girl's eyes sparkling again: "Are you cold? I'm not cold anymore, so I'll return your jacket to you."
He reached out to take it but didn't put it on, instead placing it on the nearby sofa. After she had worn it, the jacket carried a faint scent of her.
Her eyes still moist, she shyly asked, "Um, can I hug that?"
He turned to look—a gray diamond-shaped pillow he occasionally used to support his neck. He hadn't had time to ask someone to wash it yet.
He remained silent. Bei Yao blinked and asked, "Is it not allowed?"
Pei Chuan resigned himself, replying with difficulty, "It's allowed."
She hugged it joyfully. Though it wasn't cute and was quite ugly, it was softer than she had imagined.The desolation in Pei Chuan's home was bone-chilling—no potted plants, with heavy gray fabric curtains blocking the light. He was a man devoid of life's pleasures, typically spending his time watching news or reading books, rarely playing games. He kept no pets; in his hundred-square-meter apartment, he was the only living presence. Pei Chuan didn't eat snacks, so naturally, his home lacked the New Year's goods that filled Bei Yao's house.
His home didn't even have fruits.
When Pei Chuan realized his cabinet held only a few packs of cigarettes, he couldn't help glancing at her.
With such a dull life, she surely wouldn't stay long.
Bei Yao pointed to the largest and most distinctive room: "What's that one for?"
Its door was different—sturdy and hard to open.
Pei Chuan's fingers tightened, fearing she might want to explore it. If she insisted, he... he couldn't refuse her. He murmured, "Work."
"Oh." Fortunately, Bei Yao didn't press further. She pondered—Pei Chuan's source of income must be a secret.
Bei Yao said, "Did you watch the Spring Festival Gala last night? Two skits were especially funny."
Why would Pei Chuan watch such things? He replied, "No."
"Then let's watch the replay together, okay?"
"...Mm."
He accompanied her watching TV. That year's Gala featured a mezzo-soprano singer, magic tricks newly introduced to screens, and exceptionally brilliant skits.
She eagerly spoiled the plots for him: "Later, that robot will suddenly jump out, and the male lead will realize he's been tricked."
"How did he make the doves appear? Where were they hidden?"
Pei Chuan's voice was hoarse: "In the hat."
Noticing Bei Yao's gaze, he pursed his lips and explained, "Magic doves are white turtle doves with trimmed tail and wing feathers. They're slipped from pockets and caught by hand."
Bei Yao responded flatly, "...Oh." She had asked casually, hoping to share wonder with him, never expecting him to seriously dissect the magician's secrets.
Pei Chuan had dead-ended the conversation, his expression darkening.
Bei Yao's face flushed crimson as she struggled to suppress laughter.
Pei Chuan only realized his misstep later—his life had lacked companions, and as they grew older, Bei Yao no longer sat beside him in class. No one chatted or played games with him. He was inept at interacting with girls, these soft and delicate creatures, clueless about how to amuse them.
Bei Yao's phone rang.
It was Bei Licai.
He said, "Yao Yao, still at Fang Minjun's place? Come home for dinner soon."
Pei Chuan lifted his eyes to watch her.
Her phone's volume was loud, and Bei Licai's voice boomed. Bei Yao covered the receiver, her cheeks pink with embarrassment, wishing she could vanish into the floor.
Pei Chuan had heard! He must have heard she was supposed to be at Minmin's house.
Her face burned scarlet, the blush spreading to her ears. She said, "Dad! I—I'll be right back."
Pei Chuan lowered his gaze.
After she hung up, he asked calmly, "Who?"
He... hadn't heard after all.
Her pounding heart finally steadied, and she whispered, "My dad, telling me to go home."
It was New Year's—family reunions were customary. He knew she wouldn't stay long.
Pei Chuan went to his bedroom and retrieved a black scarf he had never worn, along with clean matching gloves. He handed them to her: "I haven't used them. They're clean."
She accepted them, her almond-shaped eyes lifting to meet his.
Pei Chuan said, "Go home."
Bei Yao nodded: "Can I visit you again next time?"
Pei Chuan said, "I prefer quiet."He watched as those almond-shaped eyes blinked, moist and glistening, on the verge of overflowing with tears.
His heart ached sharply, almost making him change his words.
Yet Pei Chuan remembered the weight of the bag of money Aunt Zhao had brought him. What meaning was there in stealing a moment of joy? It would only hold her back, like Director Zhang misunderstanding their relationship, offering her no benefit at all.
He could give her nothing, not even comforting her properly when she came to play during the New Year.
If he broke the promise to Aunt Zhao and the others, what then? One day, when they found out, they would lecture her and lay everything out plainly. Would they let her know about his filthy feelings, making her avoid him from then on?
At least now, he could still do his best to treat her well and fulfill her other requests.
Bei Yao was furious.
Oh, she went to see him during the New Year, and he found her noisy! Found her noisy!
If he didn’t speak, was she supposed to stay silent too, leaving the two of them staring at each other in silence?
That utterly detestable person wrapped the scarf around her, careful not to touch even a strand of her hair, and escorted her downstairs.
The whole way, she was as quiet as a little quail.
Bei Yao didn’t force herself to suffer—she put on the gloves too. After all, she had given him a gift, and she had put a lot of effort into making those dumplings. Pei Chuan was so annoying; she wouldn’t stoop to his level.
Pei Chuan knew she was sulking.
Her anger, however, felt like blades cutting into his heart, sharp and painful.
Luckily this time, the bus home arrived quickly.
His gaze remained fixed on her, deep and wordless.
Somehow, Bei Yao was reminded of her classmate Chen Yingqi saying he no longer missed Minmin.
Before boarding the bus, she turned back.
"Pei Chuan," she said, "See, I can be quiet too. If I’m quiet, can I still come to play?"
Under her gentle gaze, Pei Chuan felt stifled, resentful, and desperate.
He was utterly helpless, with no way out.
His throat tight and aching, Pei Chuan rasped, "Mm."
She smiled then, adorable and full of life.
After she got on the bus and drove away, Pei Chuan knew he had broken his promises again and again. If the day came when Aunt Zhao and the others were angry, he would kneel before them.
~
When Bei Yao returned home, the aroma of a home-cooked meal filled the air.
Little Bei Jun complained, "Sis, you went out without me! I’m mad!"
At his age, children were at their clingiest.
But... bringing him along to deliver dumplings to Pei Chuan? No way.
Zhao Zhilan swatted Bei Jun’s bottom. "Stop whining! Sit down and eat properly. Don’t cling to your sister—do you even know how annoying and destructive you are?"
Bei Jun felt a wave of sadness. He must be like what Uncle said—a child picked up from the trash.
Bei Yao couldn’t help but laugh.
Zhao Zhilan said, "Eat, eat. This kid will tear the roof off if he’s not disciplined every few days. Don’t mind him. Just play with Minmin and ignore him."
As Zhao Zhilan set out the chopsticks, she noticed the scarf and gloves on Bei Yao. "Are those gloves and scarf from Minmin’s family?"
Bei Yao: "..."
Zhao Zhilan said, "If she lent them to you, you should wash them and return them."
Bei Licai came out after washing his hands and, hearing this, instinctively glanced at his daughter’s gloves and scarf.
To Zhao Zhilan and Bei Yao, the gloves and scarf were plain and simple, no different from something bought randomly from a street stall, except for a small "K" embroidered on the edge.
But Bei Yao didn’t know that in this world, there was a type of aesthetic called "straight male aesthetic."Bei Licai often read newspapers and occasionally magazines. He didn't speak much, but he knew quite a bit—such as men's luxury goods.
He had never seen such items in his life, only in magazines, yet that didn't stop him from recognizing them.
Suppressing his excitement, he said, "Let Dad take a look at that scarf."
Confused, Bei Yao had no choice but to hand it over reluctantly.
"This is KING! Zhilan, what has Old Fang's family been up to these past two years? They're this wealthy now?"
Zhao Zhilan was equally baffled. "Huh? What?"
"This scarf must cost several thousand."
Bei Yao: "..."
Zhao Zhilan said skeptically, "No way, how is that possible? Why would their family casually let Yaoyao bring back something like this?"
After all, Zhao Zhilan's entire savings amounted to... forty thousand yuan.
Ha! As if they'd lend her daughter a scarf worth thousands just to keep warm—impossible. And even if Zhao Xiu's family had suddenly struck it rich, they couldn't have gotten wealthy that fast.
Bei Licai was also puzzled. Old Fang was just a teacher—how could his family suddenly be so well-off?
Bei Yao hadn't expected that the item she'd exchanged for dumplings, which Pei Chuan had simply described as "clean and unused," would be so expensive.
She definitely had to return it to Pei Chuan. But under her parents' suspicious gazes, she had no choice but to take it back.
On the verge of tears, Bei Yao could only say, "This is... fake, a knockoff, the kind you find at street stalls for ten or twenty yuan."
Just as Bei Licai was about to say more, Zhao Zhilan cut in, "I'm telling you, you're talking nonsense without even having seen the real thing, acting like some expert. Enough, let's eat. I know all about it! I even have a fake one myself—what's it called? LV! Yes, that's the one, thirty yuan!"
Bei Licai was left speechless.
Bei Yao kept her head down, focusing on her rice.
Remembering the few words in her diary, she thought with a headache, "What kind of shady business has Pei Chuan been up to in the year I haven't been watching him?"
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