The warmth from earlier in the evening lingered in the air as they returned home. The meal had been filled with laughter, teasing, and an ease that Xinyi wasn’t used to—but welcomed nonetheless. Yet, even as she settled into the house, something tugged at her thoughts.
Zhao Chen.
There was something about him tonight. It was small—barely noticeable—but she caught it. The way his smile flickered for just a second when he checked his phone during dinner. The way he had dismissed it so quickly, continuing the conversation as if nothing had happened.
She didn't know why, but it unsettled her.
She told herself it wasn’t her business. That she had enough on her plate without worrying about Zhao Chen’s personal matters. And yet, despite everything, she couldn’t push away the thought.
After showering, she sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the unopened box she had brought from her parents' house.
It was strange. She had packed it without thinking—just grabbing the few things that felt important. And now, sitting here in a house that was supposedly hers, she hesitated.
Slowly, she reached forward and lifted the lid.
Inside, a few neatly folded clothes lay on top, things she hadn’t worn in ages. Beneath them were some old notebooks, a few small trinkets from her childhood, and tucked away at the bottom—a single photograph.
She stilled.
Gingerly, she picked it up.
It was a picture of her and Li Jun, taken years ago when they were just kids. They were standing in front of the family house, grinning brightly.
Her fingers trembled as she traced the edges.
Things had been different back then. Li Jun had been her anchor, her safe place. She had clung to him the way a little sister would. Then, one day, he was gone.
Her heart clenched.
She wasn’t mad at him anymore. Not really. But the scar of his absence remained.
A sudden lump formed in her throat.
Before she could dwell on it too much, she quietly placed the photograph back in the box, shutting it. She didn’t have the energy to unpack the memories just yet.
The house had long fallen into silence when Xinyi stirred awake.
At first, she wasn’t sure what had woken her. But then, faint voices reached her ears.
She blinked groggily.
It was Zhao Chen and Li Jun.
Curiosity tugged at her, but she hesitated. It felt wrong to eavesdrop, but something in their tones—low, serious—made her stay still, listening.
“…She’s been through too much already,” Li Jun’s voice was quiet, yet firm.
“I know.” Zhao Chen’s response was calm, but there was a weight to it. “That’s why I never planned to tell her.”
Tell her what?
Xinyi’s fingers curled into the blanket.
“She’s not weak, but she’s been holding everything in for too long,” Li Jun murmured. “I see it. You see it. She doesn’t talk about what’s really bothering her.”
Zhao Chen exhaled softly. “You’re not wrong.”
A pause.
“Then what about you?” Li Jun asked. “You’re the same, aren’t you?”
Xinyi frowned slightly.
Zhao Chen?
“Does it matter?” Zhao Chen chuckled, but it lacked humor. “I’ve been handling my own problems for a long time. This isn’t any different.”
“…That message earlier,” Li Jun started. “Was it—”
“It’s nothing.”
A silence stretched between them.
Li Jun didn’t press, but Xinyi could tell he wasn’t convinced.
And neither was she.
She lay still, waiting until she heard their footsteps retreat before letting out a slow breath.
Zhao Chen… was hiding something.
She wasn’t sure what it was, but for the first time, she realized—
He was always looking out for others. But who was looking out for him?
Morning light seeped through the window when Xinyi finally woke up. She felt heavy, like she hadn’t truly rested.
Dragging herself out of bed, she wandered into the kitchen, where Zhao Chen was already up, sipping on a cup of coffee.
He glanced at her, raising a brow. “Morning, princess.”
She wrinkled her nose at the nickname but didn’t bother protesting.
Instead of sitting, she leaned against the counter, watching him.
There was something different about him this morning. He looked… tired.
Maybe it was just her overthinking, but after last night, she couldn’t ignore it anymore.
After a moment, she reached for a second mug, filling it with coffee. Then, without a word, she slid it across the counter toward him.
Zhao Chen blinked, then looked at her, amused. “Trying to bribe me?”
“Just take it,” she muttered.
His lips twitched, but he accepted the cup, taking a slow sip.
Silence settled between them. But it wasn’t uncomfortable.
For some reason, it felt like a quiet understanding.
Xinyi didn’t say anything. She didn’t ask questions or pry.
She just sat there, drinking her coffee.
And for once, Zhao Chen didn’t have to put up a front.
Zhao Chen wanted to tell her about the burden he had been carrying—something he had been keeping to himself for a long time.
The message he received during dinner wasn’t just a random text. It was a reminder of the struggles he had been dealing with in secret.
He wanted to tell Xinyi the truth.
That despite how carefree and teasing he seemed, he had his own battles. That he wasn’t as invincible as he pretended to be.
But looking at her, seeing the weight she was already carrying, he chose to stay silent.
Because right now, Xinyi needed someone strong.
And if he told her, would she start worrying about him too?
Would she see him differently?
So instead, he swallowed his words.
And simply sat there, drinking coffee with her in silence.