On the way back to Xiaozhu Courtyard, Jiang Yi suddenly stopped at a supermarket, dashed in to buy some beer, then handed Ouyang a can after getting back in the car, tossing the rest in the back seat.
“After champagne, you need beer.”
“I like the way you think.” Ouyang popped the tab, beer foaming over his hand.
Jiang Yi suddenly leaned down and licked the beer off Ouyang’s fingers, making him freeze for a moment. Jiang Yi commented casually, “Just proves again I don’t like German dark beer. This is much better.”
Ouyang kept watching him, suddenly feeling that Jiang Yi was truly different. He reached out, wrapped an arm around Jiang Yi’s neck, and kissed him. It wasn’t deep or long, but it was meaningful. Ouyang quickly sat back, acting nonchalant. “This tastes even better.”
Jiang Yi turned to look out the window, unable to hide his smile. When he looked back and saw Ouyang relaxing, rolling up his sleeves, their eyes met for a moment before Jiang Yi stepped on the gas, returning them to their private world—Xiaozhu Courtyard.
After parking, Jiang Yi naturally took Ouyang’s hand as they joked and walked to the front door. But when he saw Liang Menghai about to turn away outside, he instinctively let go. Ouyang noticed too, looking up and meeting her gaze.
Liang Menghai smiled wearily. “Well, I guess my luck isn’t too bad. I’ve been waiting inside for over an hour and was just about to leave.”
Jiang Yi nodded to her, while Ouyang went up first. “It’s so late. Why didn’t you call if you needed me urgently?”
Menghai expertly took the spare key from behind a flowerpot and let herself in. “You must not have checked your phone—it was out of battery. I didn’t know you were with Jiang Yi, or I could have found you.”
Jiang Yi guessed that Liang Menghai had something important to discuss with Ouyang, so he tactfully excused himself, not looking at Ouyang after entering. “You two talk. I’m going to bed—I have to go to the building materials market in the north of the city tomorrow.”
“Good night, Jiang Yi.” Menghai patted his shoulder. After he disappeared upstairs, she smiled. “He really is perfect.”
Ouyang’s eyes followed Jiang Yi’s lonely figure, his chest tightening. He couldn’t even tell what he was feeling—some strange emotion was growing inside him. He was starting to care about Jiang Yi’s feelings. Why did he feel guilty, as if he wanted to please him? Why was he afraid that Jiang Yi might not be as close to him tomorrow? Why did a few small gestures and ambiguous glances occupy his mind? Was it just because it was Jiang Yi and not someone else? The answer seemed to be getting more complicated.
Meanwhile, Liang Menghai interrupted his thoughts. “Jinghui, it’s not that I have anything urgent tonight—I just wanted to see you.”
Ouyang suddenly felt ashamed and didn’t know whether to apologize, so he just sat beside her.
“Jinghui, since the art exhibition, how many days has it been since you visited me? Are we still in a cold war?”
They really were in a cold war. Their love had faded into obligation, and neither wanted to break the silence, so they both hesitated. “I never wanted it to come to this.”
“We’ve been together so long, but how much time have we really spent together? You’ve never watched the sunset or walked the beach with me. The flowers you give me are always tasteful, but never chosen with care. You’re a successful leader, a noble pragmatist, but not a romantic or attentive lover. Maybe this just proves why artists shouldn’t date businessmen,” Menghai said, finally opening up.
At first, Ouyang thought that romance was something only women cared about, but these days he had started to understand it himself. Jiang Yi was someone who truly appreciated the joys of life. If Jiang Yi were a woman, he would have already swept her off her feet, but instead, he insisted on spending all his passion on himself.
“Do you need an answer, Menghai?”
“Yes, right now. I want to hear your answer.” Although her heart ached, she had no choice but to press him—this man she had loved for years, this man who stood out among all others, exuding extraordinary charm, always the center of attention. He had been her dream, her hope, the brightest part of her plans for the future. Now, she had to force him to say words of finality, to cut off all her unrealistic fantasies and return herself to reality.
“I thought we could still wait.”
“I’ve waited. It’s always been about waiting. Maybe that’s why we missed the best chance.”
“I won’t stop you from going to France, if that’s what you really want.”
From Ouyang Jinghui’s calm tone, Menghai could tell that he understood her situation—maybe even better than she did. That was why he was even more reluctant to take the initiative. He had already stepped back, simply waiting for her to find her own way out.
“You… already knew?”
“When two people work in the same field, it often does more harm than good. Don’t do things just to prove a point. He may be a genius painter, but he’s not a genius partner. If you go to Europe, don’t make everything about him. Don’t keep sacrificing for others, even if you love him.”
At that moment, Menghai could no longer maintain her rational facade. She covered her face and wept softly. In her memory, Ouyang rarely spoke to her like this. Even now, she could still draw some warmth and support from him. Ouyang reached out, wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and let her lean into his broad chest.
Whether or not Ouyang Jinghui was the perfect lover, he was generous, reserved, and strong—always giving her a sense of security. But gradually, what he felt for her was no longer love. They had become the closest of friends, sharing achievements rather than emotions. Then, at an art exhibition, she met another man—a talented French painter whom fate had arranged for her. He passionately invited her to settle abroad and travel the world with him. For a lonely woman, that temptation was immense. So she gave Ouyang one last chance, but he didn’t take it. Both of them let go, and in the end, they had no choice but to break up.
“I never thought I’d be the one to ask to leave you,” Menghai suddenly said, breaking into a sad smile as she looked up at Ouyang from his embrace.
“So, you’ve won. You should start enjoying your new life.” For a man to say something like this and have the other person believe he truly means it is not easy, but Ouyang Jinghui managed it.
“Come on, kiss me one last time, so I’ll know you’ll remember Liang Menghai for the rest of your life.” It was her final request, and Ouyang didn’t think it was too much.
When it comes to feelings, both parties are selfish to some extent, but there’s no absolute right or wrong. As long as you’re fair in your heart, everything else is secondary.
Little did they know that at that very moment, Jiang Yi, agitated by a call from America, was about to go downstairs to see if Menghai was still there. He had planned to discuss something privately with Ouyang, but that plan was interrupted by that one kiss. Compared to the phone call from three minutes before, this scene hit him even harder. He’d thought the difference between Ouyang Jinghui and a one-night stand was negligible, but the truth was, he had overestimated his own self-control.
At some point, Jiang Yi had begun to harbor desires he shouldn’t have had, which was why he’d suggested that one-month agreement. Even though he was trying to rein in those desires, everything he did only made things worse. Now, he was completely invested, and even seeing Ouyang kiss someone else—something he had no right to care about—felt like a betrayal. This possessiveness was dangerous.
Jiang Yi finally realized he couldn’t delay his plans any longer. He’d intended to go downstairs to explain his early departure to Ouyang after their talk, but before he could say anything, he was left with nothing but heartache and the scene he’d just witnessed. He admitted to himself that he, too, could be defeated, that he could lose his courage even when he thought he was moving forward bravely.
They were about to finish their third week as lovers, with every day feeling like an anniversary—precious, ordinary, passionate, all worth savoring again and again. He’d thought he was strong and carefree enough, but in reality, when it came to love, he was no more mature than a high schooler.
While Ouyang Jinghui and Liang Menghai were saying their stylish goodbyes, Jiang Yi had already retreated to the bedroom, collapsing onto the bed and burying his head in the pillow until he was nearly suffocating, only then coming up for air. Suddenly realizing how pathetic he looked, he glanced back and saw Ouyang leaning against the doorframe, smiling wryly at him. “What’s this? Playing ostrich?”
“Something like that.” Jiang Yi was grateful he could still keep up the pretense, looking at him without giving anything away.
“Ouyang, about Menghai…”
“That’s your business,” Jiang Yi cut him off firmly. “No need to tell me.”
Ouyang pulled a half-smile, looking somewhat pensive. “People are often blind to their own situations. Once you lose your way, it’s easy to take the wrong path, and by the time you try to get back, you realize you can’t reach the end.”
Jiang Yi took those words as being meant for himself, and his heart sank, his expression changing slightly. Ouyang was sharp—his ability to read people was no less than Jiang Yi’s. Seeing Jiang Yi, who usually kept his emotions in check, react this way, Ouyang grew a little nervous.
“Jiang Yi, are you feeling alright?”
Sometimes, all you really want is to hear a few words of concern. But when he finally heard them, Jiang Yi felt even more bitter. He shook his head. “I’m fine, maybe just caught a chill tonight. It’s late—let’s get some rest.”
The atmosphere they’d built up was shattered by a series of events. Jiang Yi’s mind was filled with the news from that phone call and his relationship with Ouyang, which felt like a tug-of-war that left his scalp tingling. Ouyang, having just parted ways with Menghai, was also feeling especially down, so he said nothing more.
It was almost a sleepless night.
Since the Yunxi project’s design plans had already been submitted for final approval and there would be no more changes before construction, Jiang Yi could leave the daily affairs to his studio team. Over the next two days, he handed off all necessary work to Ali and the others, booked a flight to another city that morning, and moved up his planned trip to Hong Kong by two weeks. This marked the official start of Jiang Yi’s next journey.
Everyone at Ivan Studio thought Jiang Yi had gone to Hong Kong, but in reality, he boarded a flight to Denver, Colorado. The call had been about news of a benefactor.
The dim attic was lit by just one lamp, its pale glow losing all its poetic warmth in the absence of that person. Ouyang didn’t usually smoke, only doing so when he was truly upset, letting the smoke swirl around him.
He had never thought the house could feel so cold and empty. Only the sound of the phone’s redial button echoed monotonously in the air, followed by a flat voice repeating, “Sorry, the number you have dialed is not in service.”
With a snap, he yanked out the phone cord and tossed a few magazines at the wall in frustration. Ouyang Jinghui rarely lost his temper, but this time, he was furious for reasons he couldn’t even name. His face was pale, his eyes red, staring at the airplane model on the stereo for a long time.
Jiang Yi had just packed up and left without a word! Even if he were staying in a dorm, he shouldn’t have been so rude and heartless. Ouyang had thought Jiang Yi was just working late, but by midnight, there was still no sign of him. Worried something had happened, Ouyang finally called his cell, but still couldn’t reach him.
Ouyang was uneasy, waking up several times during the night. By morning, he felt terrible. He called Ivan Studio, only to be shocked when the designer told him the boss had gone to Hong Kong the day before. Ouyang was rattled and called Jiang Yi’s assistant, Ali, who said the same thing.
Ouyang couldn’t accept it. He didn’t understand why Jiang Yi would leave without a word, so he had his secretary check all flights to Hong Kong from the previous afternoon. There was no record of Jiang Yi on any of them. That answer left him deeply disappointed. He realized Jiang Yi had fooled everyone and gone somewhere else alone. It was another day before he found out Jiang Yi had flown directly to Washington.
After doing everything he could to win Ouyang’s affection, Jiang Yi just left quietly? Without even fulfilling the one-month agreement! He definitely hadn’t gone to Washington for work, nor was he going home, so what was it for? How many more secrets did he have?
Ouyang couldn’t control his wild guesses. Besides suspicion and anger, he felt even more worried.
The thought that Jiang Yi might disappear from his life made Ouyang lose all sense of reason. He had never been approached so closely by anyone, nor had he ever been so abruptly abandoned. Jiang Yi had swept in like a tornado, disrupting all the order and principles Ouyang once held dear, making him break his own rules again and again—only for Jiang Yi to vanish without a trace.
If Jiang Yi wanted to leave, he could have just told Ouyang Jinghui directly. Why sneak away? Remembering their intimacy the day before, Ouyang was even more confused, his heart a mix of emotions. He didn’t know whether Jiang Yi was crazy, or if he himself was even crazier.
Ouyang suddenly felt he didn’t even have the right to look for him. The agreement was Jiang Yi’s idea, making Ouyang feel completely passive. Even in bed, he had never been able to let go. He knew Jiang Yi was fiercely independent and proud, always struggling to maintain his dignity while playing his social role.
Ouyang understood the deep feelings in Jiang Yi’s eyes, but he simply didn’t want to admit it. Jiang Yi must have figured everything out and decided to leave without even saying goodbye. If Ouyang tried to chase after him, it would be a joke.
In just one day, both his male and female lovers had left him. Ouyang couldn’t deny he felt lost—it was punishment for his arrogance.
When Jiang Yi had pursued him, and during their harmonious life together, every glance and conversation was full of endless joy, sparking creativity and potential in both of them.
When they discussed work, even if they disagreed, they could always talk things through, pointing out each other’s mistakes in time. That was the most precious part—they were more than just partners; their relationship was influencing their judgments and actions in ways they hadn’t expected. Maybe they were so in sync that they didn’t notice any dramatic changes. After work, they’d skip other social events just to return to Xiaozhu Courtyard. If the other wasn’t home yet, there was no need to worry—they’d be back soon.
Usually, Jiang Yi came home earlier. Sometimes, he didn’t even go out for dinner, spending the whole day at Xiaozhu Courtyard. He ate simply—sometimes just coffee and bread, sometimes ordering pizza. Only once did they cook together in the kitchen, making salmon and pasta.
Ouyang could cook, but wasn’t skilled, especially at Western food. That time, he tried for Jiang Yi’s sake and ended up in a quirky purple apron. Jiang Yi guided him and then showed off his own creation: papaya salad. He even brought out a light Pinot Noir from the bar to pair with the pasta. Sometimes, Jiang Yi’s talents weren’t just in his career—being his companion was a pleasure in itself.
They often danced slowly in the attic. Ouyang tried to teach him the waltz, but Jiang Yi kept laughing, so they gave up. He only laughed so freely on rare occasions; usually, his smile was faint but genuine, never fake.
He liked comfortable, flowing fabrics and admired certain master designers. Ouyang once saw him in the garden wearing a “skirt”—not a real skirt, but a piece of white striped cloth wrapped around his waist, with loose shorts underneath and a row of distinctive buttons on the left side. Jiang Yi was tall to begin with, and that “skirt” made him look even taller and more elegant, his handsome face bright and spirited, like a prince.
Jiang Yi appeared cold on the outside, but in reality, he was full of adventurous spirit. He was bold and decisive—if anything, even more so than Ouyang. They once sat together watching horror movies, both unimpressed by the lousy makeup; they went on a trip to Daqing Mountain to watch extreme sports, and Jiang Yi insisted on trying bungee jumping, with Ouyang risking his life to accompany him. In the supermarket, Jiang Yi often picked out foods others wouldn’t dare to buy, like the hottest chili sauce. In the hallway, the bathroom, by the bar, on the sofa, even on the bedroom floor, they had embraced passionately, their desire burning like fire.
Ouyang would never forget the dizzying pleasure of their first time together—the almost overwhelming madness. He forced himself to endure the pain, and even though it was uncomfortable, Jiang Yi still looked back at him with encouraging eyes. Those eyes were like two clear, deep pools—intense and captivating, able to draw in someone’s soul. Perhaps, in that moment, everything between them changed.
Chapter 13
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