Chapter 9 Gu Shiyan Never Looks Back

For several days in a row, Luo Xing didn’t send any messages to Gu Shiyan.

It wasn’t until another holiday arrived that Luo Xing, carrying her bag, planned to head home from her rented apartment.

She opened the door and saw Gu Shiyan standing in the corridor, blocking most of the light. He held a cigarette between his fingers, unlit.

“How did you know I was here?” Luo Xing had told him where she lived, but she never expected Gu Shiyan to remember—he usually didn’t care about such things.

“Luo Xing.” Gu Shiyan straightened up, gazing down at her in her blue dress.

Today, she hadn’t tied her hair up in a bun. Her long hair fell loose, with a sparkling star-shaped clip tucked by her ear.

His eyes drifted downward. Luo Xing’s wrists were slender, both bare. She no longer wore the bracelet he once gave her.

“Move aside. I’m going home,” Luo Xing said.

Gu Shiyan blocked her doorway completely, leaving her no room to pass.

“Are you sure?” He stepped back, making space for her.

Luo Xing frowned. She meant to say, “Gu Shiyan, don’t take yourself so seriously,” but caught sight of the dessert bag in his other hand and blurted out instead, “Since when do you like sweets?”

Gu Shiyan glanced out the window, drawing his hand back. “Just occasionally.”

Luo Xing didn’t reply. Gu Shiyan had never bought desserts on his own initiative before.

Oh, but now he was with the heroine. Buying desserts for his white moonlight was only natural.

“Whatever.” Luo Xing lifted the strap on her shoulder, swung the door shut with a bang.

She looked at the keychain in her hand—one was Patrick Star, the other, SpongeBob, she’d given to Gu Shiyan. She’d never seen him use it.

But that wasn’t the issue now.

Luo Xing was quite certain she’d left her water bottle on the table.

She glanced at Gu Shiyan, who stood nearby, eyes fixed on his phone, wearing his usual indifferent expression.

Luo Xing didn’t want to see him. She decided to leave the water bottle and head downstairs.

Gu Shiyan followed her down.

Their movements were oddly in sync.

Gu Shiyan glanced at his phone—it was Li Zhao sending him an address, inviting him to play basketball again.

Trailing behind Luo Xing without hurry, his long legs easily caught up as he replied to the message.

Luo Xing stopped by a shop downstairs and immediately bought a new keychain—this time, a Crayon Shin-chan.

She swapped it on as she exited.

Gu Shiyan watched her toss the Patrick Star keychain straight into the trash.

He remembered the SpongeBob keychain sitting on his desk at home. He never needed to carry keys, so it had just been left there.

After replacing her keychain, Luo Xing glanced to the side—Gu Shiyan was already gone.

Seeing her throw away the keychain, he should understand everything now.

Gu Shiyan never looked back. Perhaps from now on, they would have nothing more to do with each other, never even meet again.

Luo Xing took a breath, went back upstairs to fetch her water bottle, and finally headed home.

Sitting on the subway, she opened her phone to see a message from her mother: she was working the night shift, her father was on a business trip—did she want to stay with her grandmother?

Ordering takeout alone at home was fine, but Luo Xing didn’t want to be alone right now, so she replied, “Okay.”

A couple more stops and she’d be at her grandmother’s.

One floor, two apartments—across the hall lived the Shen family.

As soon as Luo Xing entered, she saw Shen Que bringing out a plate of freshly cut fruit.

“I almost thought I’d walked into the wrong apartment. What are you doing here?” she asked.

Her grandmother already knew Luo Xing was coming and wasn’t surprised, her face alight with joy. “Xingxing, come here. Dinner will be ready soon.”

Shen Que placed the fruit on the table, then handed Luo Xing a piece of mango with a fork. “Nothing much, just came to see Grandma.”

Her grandmother smiled as Luo Xing set down her bag and bit into the mango. Taking her empty water bottle, the old lady filled it anew. “When you’re not here, it’s always Shen Que keeping me company.”

“Really? If he’s with you, it’s as if I am too.” Luo Xing pinched her grandmother’s cheek. “Grandma, you’ve lost weight!”

“Nonsense!”

“It’s true! Shen Que, don’t you think she’s thinner?”

The cheerful bustle inside drowned out the cicadas and birdsong from outside.

Cars roared past one after another on the asphalt road.

Gu Shiyan sat in the back seat with his eyes closed, still holding the dessert bag.

From the driver’s seat, Uncle Li glanced at him in the rearview mirror, hesitating before finally speaking. “Shiyan, I’ve watched you grow up. When you get home, don’t argue with your father. Now…”

He wanted to say that things were different now—a new wife was in the house. If she became pregnant, would Gu Liang still care about his son, the one who argued with him daily? But seeing Gu Shiyan’s weary expression, he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“If that woman really gets pregnant, Gu Liang will just find another one,” Gu Shiyan replied with a careless, mocking tone.

Back when his mother was pregnant with him, Gu Liang already had a mistress.

All these years, Gu Liang had gone through mistress after mistress, never leaving a gap of more than two months.

Su Wan thought that moving into the Gu house meant she’d made it, but who knew if Gu Liang wouldn’t find someone else tomorrow?

Gu Shiyan walked in, dessert bag in hand, head lowered to change his shoes.

“You still remember to come home!” his father’s nasal voice thundered.

Gu Shiyan acted as if he hadn’t heard.

Gu Liang looked at his only son: always hanging around arcades and internet cafes, never serious about anything, barely showing up at school. Sometimes he’d go for months without attending.

Last time, he was even involved in a group fight, made the news, and utterly humiliated him.

The thought made Gu Liang’s heart clench with rage. He grabbed a vase of flowers from the table and hurled it at Gu Shiyan.

Gu Shiyan didn’t even flinch, his jet-black eyes fixed on his father as the velvet red roses struck his face and left a thin, bloody scratch.

On his pale skin, the cut was starkly visible.

He didn’t even blink, merely glanced at the scattered petals on the floor.

Su Wan stood up, distressed at seeing the flowers she’d just arranged ruined.

Gu Liang slapped the table. “Why didn’t you trim the thorns?”

Su Wan hadn’t expected to get blamed for doing nothing.

“I’ll trim them next time, don’t be so angry,” she said quickly, gesturing for a servant to clean up the mess and patting Gu Liang’s back in comfort. “Shiyan must have his reasons. He’s still young…”

“What reasons? He’s in college, hardly a child!”

Gu Shiyan, shoes still on, stepped over the petals and headed upstairs.

Su Wan’s gaze fixed on the bag in his hand.

“Look, Shiyan even bought you something. And you start yelling the moment he comes in.” She kept patting Gu Liang’s back.

Though she lived here now, she and Gu Liang weren’t legally married; her position was never secure.

She had observed that, despite Gu Liang’s indifference and harshness toward his son, he still cared deep down.

After all, if he truly wanted to hurt someone, there were forks and glasses at hand—any of those would’ve drawn blood. Instead, he’d chosen a harmless handful of flowers.

Seeing a small scratch on his son’s face, her “husband” had already lost his temper.