After that night, something was completely broken.
Not the window paper—that thing had already been riddled with holes long before—but the armor Zong Yi used to maintain the surface calm called "reason" and "boundaries."
The armor shattered. Beneath it, the emotional wasteland that had long been surging with hidden currents—yet deliberately ignored by her—was suddenly laid bare in the air. Every stir of wind and grass brought sharp pain and heart-pounding tremors.
She began deliberately avoiding things.
Not avoiding Yan Hanxie herself—that was impossible. The necessary contact for work and Yan Hanxie's endless, "perfectly reasonable" summons left her no room to escape—but avoiding that kind of overly private, overly ambiguous solitude.
She shortened the time she spent going to the apartment to "visit," coming and going hurriedly, as if completing a task that had to be checked off.
Conversations were strictly limited to work and necessary inquiries about her physical condition. Her tone was businesslike, and her gaze avoided prolonged contact.
When Yan Hanxie tried again to bring up topics such as "the soup doesn't taste right" or "I'm afraid to be alone at night," she would quickly interrupt, using more urgent work calls or previously arranged schedules as excuses, almost fleeing in panic.
She even began reevaluating Aunt Zhou's work, privately speaking with her and tactfully asking whether there were any difficulties or adjustments needed. In her tone there was a trace—even she herself did not notice—of eagerness to "transfer" the responsibility of taking care of Yan Hanxie.
Aunt Zhou was somewhat puzzled but still answered seriously, "Miss Yan's requirements are a bit detailed, but they're reasonable. I can handle them. Miss Zong, don't worry."
Don't worry?
Zong Yi tugged at the corner of her mouth and realized she could not relax at all.
She was like a bird overly frightened yet tightly tied by invisible threads—wanting to flap her wings and escape that nest that made her heart uneasy, yet because the other end of the thread was firmly held in someone's hand, every attempt to fly tugged painfully at her heart.
Yan Hanxie saw all of her reactions clearly.
Watching Zong Yi's deliberately calm distance, watching her intentionally quickened speech and wandering gaze, watching the line of her shoulders suddenly tense from a single ordinary glance… Yan Hanxie not only felt no displeasure, the beast in her heart instead let out a pleased growl.
Afraid?
Very good.
Fear meant she cared.
And caring was the beginning of falling in love.
She watched Zong Yi's clumsy, full-of-holes "avoidance" like someone appreciating a piece of art gradually taking shape according to her own intentions. She was extremely patient, even indulgently allowing it to happen.
She no longer used those overly direct pleas that carried the weak dependence of illness.
Instead, she switched to a subtler method that was even harder to refuse.
For example, she would "happen" to bring up an extremely crucial and complicated idea regarding the next stage strategy of "Spark" when Zong Yi came to deliver a document urgently needing her signature.
The idea was deep enough to capture the full attention of Zong Yi as the project leader; the timing was natural enough that Zong Yi could not brush it aside with "let's talk about it next time."
Thus, what was originally planned as a five-minute signing became a brainstorming session lasting half an hour or even longer.
The location shifted from the entrance hall to the study. The two of them faced spread-out charts and data, arguing, supplementing, overturning, rebuilding.
The air no longer carried ambiguous tension but the pure intellectual collision belonging to top professionals.
Yet beneath that collision, the undercurrent still flowed.
Yan Hanxie would push a cup of water of just the right temperature to Zong Yi's hand when she was concentrating.
When explaining a point, she would casually lean closer, pointing somewhere on the blueprint, her arm almost touching Zong Yi's arm, her breath brushing past her ear.
At critical moments of debate, she would suddenly stop and look at Zong Yi with a calm, appreciative gaze—at her eyes that were especially bright because of focus and the faint redness on her cheeks.
At such times, Zong Yi would often freeze. The intense intellectual clash would suddenly stop, replaced by a far more unsettling pressure—the feeling of being completely invaded and scrutinized.
She wanted to step back, wanted to pull things back to the safe "work" distance again, but Yan Hanxie had already naturally withdrawn her gaze and continued the discussion from before, as if that momentary stare had merely been an unconscious pause while she was thinking.
For another example, she would "accidentally" let Zong Yi know that she had scheduled a follow-up appointment with a certain authoritative specialist, and the appointment was just a few days later.
Then, on the evening before the follow-up visit, she would send a message to Zong Yi in a calm tone that even sounded somewhat "official":
[Follow-up appointment tomorrow. The materials are prepared. If it's convenient for you, you may come along; some data need to be confirmed on site.]
The reason was sufficient and beyond reproach.
There was not even the slightest hint of "request" or "dependence," as if she were merely notifying a work partner.
But when Zong Yi stared at that message, she seemed to be able to see behind the screen Yan Hanxie's calm yet certain eyes.
She knew that if she did not go, Yan Hanxie would never say anything about it, and might not even make a single phone call to ask.
But she also knew that it was impossible for her not to go.
The result was that on the day of the follow-up visit, Zong Yi appeared downstairs at the apartment building on time.
Yan Hanxie was already neatly dressed and waiting in the car. When she saw her, she merely nodded slightly, said "Good morning," and signaled the driver to start driving.
On the way, the two briefly discussed the possible issues that might arise during the follow-up visit and the data that needed confirmation. The atmosphere was so normal that it truly seemed like an ordinary work outing.
Until they were waiting in the hospital corridor for their number to be called, when Yan Hanxie suddenly said quietly, "A little nervous."
Her voice was very soft, almost drowned out by the surrounding noise.
Zong Yi was looking down at an email she had just received on her phone. Hearing that, her fingers froze on the screen.
She raised her head and looked at Yan Hanxie.
The other woman was turned slightly to the side, her gaze directed at the tightly closed door of the consultation room. The lines of her profile looked somewhat tense under the cold white light of the corridor, her long eyelashes casting a small shadow beneath her eyes.
That shadow, and that almost inaudible "nervous," were like an extremely thin needle that unexpectedly pierced through the mental defense Zong Yi had painstakingly built over the past few days.
Almost without thinking, she blurted out, "Nothing will happen. Your indicators have been stable."
After saying it, even she herself was stunned.
The certainty in her tone, along with the concern she could not hide, was completely exposed.
Yan Hanxie turned her head and looked at her. Her gaze was deep, and something flashed through it very quickly—too quickly for Zong Yi to catch.
Then she curved her lips very slightly. The smile was faint, yet it seemed to instantly disperse the tension from before.
"Mm." She responded and turned her head back, saying nothing more.
But that brief interaction was like a stone thrown into still water, stirring ripples in Zong Yi's heart that could not calm down for a long time.
Only afterward did she realize that she had been "trapped" again.
In a more advanced way—one that struck directly at her weak point.
The follow-up visit afterward went smoothly.
The doctor expressed satisfaction with Yan Hanxie's recovery, adjusted some medications, and instructed her to continue maintaining a good mindset and a regular lifestyle.
Throughout the process, Yan Hanxie cooperated very well. She answered whatever was asked, her expression calm, even carrying a sort of indifferent detachment.
Instead, it was Zong Yi standing beside her who listened more attentively than anyone, her brows subtly tightening or relaxing with every sentence the doctor said.
After leaving the hospital and sitting in the car, Yan Hanxie seemed to remove an invisible layer of armor. She leaned back into the seat somewhat weakly, closed her eyes, and her face looked slightly paler than when she had gone in.
"Tired?" Zong Yi asked almost immediately, her voice carrying nervousness she did not even notice herself.
"Mm." Yan Hanxie did not open her eyes. She only responded softly, her fingers unconsciously pressing at her temples.
Seeing her exhausted appearance, the words "I'll send you back so you can rest well" circled several times in Zong Yi's throat. In the end, however, what came out was, "Are you hungry? Do you want to… eat something before going back?"
Yan Hanxie slowly opened her eyes and turned to look at her. There was a trace of surprise in her gaze, which soon turned into understanding and an extremely faint smile.
"Okay," she said.
The car did not return directly to the apartment. Instead, it turned into a relatively quiet street and stopped in front of a private restaurant that Zong Yi remembered Yan Hanxie had occasionally mentioned before, famous for its light and nourishing cuisine.
The meal was unusually quiet.
Both of them had their own thoughts and did not say much.
But the atmosphere was no longer as tense or deliberately distant as before.
Occasionally when their gazes met, Zong Yi would move hers away first, though the tips of her ears quietly turned red.
Yan Hanxie, on the other hand, ate slowly and methodically. From time to time her gaze fell on Zong Yi's lowered brows and eyes and the lips that opened and closed slightly as she ate, her eyes deep.
After the meal, Zong Yi sent Yan Hanxie back to the apartment. Standing at the door, she hesitated for a moment before saying, "Rest well. I'll go back to the company first."
"Mm." Yan Hanxie stood inside the doorway, one hand holding the doorframe, looking at her. Suddenly she asked, "Zong Yi, what are you afraid of?"
The question came abruptly, directly hitting the core.
Zong Yi's body stiffened almost imperceptibly.
She raised her eyes and met Yan Hanxie's calm gaze. That gaze seemed able to penetrate all the defenses she had put up and see the most embarrassing struggle in the depths of her heart.
Afraid of what?
Afraid of this out-of-control feeling, afraid of sinking deeper and deeper, afraid of this emotion that clearly should not exist yet was growing stronger day by day, afraid of… the person in front of her and the unfathomable thoughts in her heart.
But she could not say it.
"I'm not afraid of anything." She heard herself answer stiffly, her voice slightly hollow.
Yan Hanxie looked at her for a few seconds and did not ask further. She only sighed very softly.
"Be careful on the way," she said, then gently closed the door.
The door panel cut off the line of sight.
Zong Yi stood in the empty corridor for a long time without moving.
The Buddhist beads on her wrist hung heavily.
She suddenly felt that all her avoidance, struggle, and attempts to redraw the boundary were so ridiculous and futile in front of Yan Hanxie's eyes that seemed to see through everything.
Like a bird that thought it had escaped the cage, not knowing that the thread tied to its ankle was still firmly held in the hunter's palm.
And the hunter was patiently waiting for the bird's every flap of wings, every struggle—waiting for it to become exhausted and finally willingly fall back into the palm already prepared for it.
The road of chasing her wife was long.
But the hunter never lacked patience.
Especially when every reaction of the prey was already under control, even becoming the most interesting part of the chase.
—
T/N: Hi everyone! I just wanted to let you all know—I'm not sure if any of you have noticed—but lately I've been updating later than usual. I've been focusing on my studies since I have a ton of exams this coming week. I have tests every day except Tuesday, so I wanted to warn you guys that updates might be irregular. I wanted to apologize in advance for that!
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