Dusk gathered, and the city put on its evening attire woven with neon lights.
That bowl of soup with perfect heat was like a warm seal, branding a small but undeniable mark of softness in Zong Yi's heart.
In the following days, when she went to Yan Hanxie's apartment again, her state of mind had subtly changed.
Those deliberately built high walls of distance seemed to have been quietly melted at one corner by the warm lights and food fragrance in the kitchen that night. Although she still tried to maintain a businesslike exterior, the concern that unconsciously appeared in her eyes and the occasionally relaxed body language could not escape Yan Hanxie's sharp eyes.
Yan Hanxie took in all these changes.
The beast carefully raised in her heart let out a satisfied yawn, but it was already calculating the next step.
The apartment?
Too small.
The layout was also too modern and cold, lacking a bit of… the feeling of a home and the space for "operation."
Moreover, every time Zong Yi came and left in a hurry like a migratory bird ready to fly away at any moment. The traces of her staying were too shallow, too easy to erase.
That would not do.
Yan Hanxie's mental abacus clicked rapidly.
She needed a larger territory, a more private space, a bond harder to sever.
Preferably one that could completely "circle" the person in, letting her presence seep into every corner, letting her grow accustomed to the sunrise and sunset here, letting her… find no reason to leave again.
So, one crisp autumn afternoon, when Zong Yi finished her work and came to the apartment as usual, Yan Hanxie was not waiting in the study or living room like before. Instead, she was neatly dressed, sitting on the shoe-changing bench by the entrance, holding a document as if specifically waiting for her.
"You're here?" Yan Hanxie looked up, her gaze calm. "Perfect timing. Come somewhere with me."
"Where?" Zong Yi asked, somewhat surprised. Since being discharged from the hospital, Yan Hanxie had hardly left the house except for necessary follow-up visits.
"To look at a house." Yan Hanxie stood up and handed the document to her. "The original apartment is still a bit far from the company, and it's not very convenient for the rehabilitation therapist to come. Also, although the floor is high and the view is good, it always feels like it lacks a bit of grounding."
The reason was sufficient and flawless.
It even considered the convenience of rehabilitation, completely matching the reasonable needs of a patient actively recovering.
Zong Yi took the document. It was a brief file about several candidate villa districts along with some floor plans.
The locations were all excellent, the environments quiet, the security strict, and the sizes ranged from several hundred to more than a thousand square meters.
She quickly scanned it and felt slightly surprised—these places were not really closer to the company than the current apartment, and some were even farther.
As for "grounded feeling"… when had Yan Hanxie ever cared about something like that?
But she did not question it. As a subordinate—or rather, as the "assistant" currently "half relied upon" by Yan Hanxie to handle all kinds of trivial matters—accompanying her to look at houses seemed to be part of her duties.
"Okay." She put away the document and nodded.
The car drove out of the city toward a suburban villa district famous for its low density, high quality, and privacy.
The autumn sunlight came through the car window, warm but not scorching.
Yan Hanxie leaned against the seat back, closing her eyes to rest. Occasionally she would ask about something related to work or comment on the scenery outside the window. Her tone was calm and natural, as if this were truly just an ordinary outing.
Zong Yi played the role of a competent companion, answering work questions and introducing the background of the villa district, yet her gaze unconsciously lingered more often on Yan Hanxie's profile.
The sunlight outlined her clear jawline and long lashes. The pale complexion from her illness had faded, and under the light her skin looked smooth and luminous. That calm and composed presence seemed to be gradually returning along with her recovering health.
Sometimes Zong Yi would think of the Yan Hanxie from that night in the kitchen clumsily cutting potatoes, and the woman in front of her now calmly selecting a future residence. The two images overlapped and intertwined, making the chaotic emotions in her heart even harder to sort out.
They arrived at the destination.
The real estate manager who received them had already been waiting for a long time, respectful and professional.
They were shown a detached villa in an excellent location. The property was quite large, with gardens in the front and back. The interior decoration followed a modern minimalist style, but the materials and details everywhere revealed understated luxury.
Huge floor-to-ceiling windows captured the courtyard scenery completely, sunlight filling every room.
Yan Hanxie looked very carefully.
She walked slowly from the first floor to the third floor, entering every room to take a look. Occasionally she would reach out to touch the material of the walls, knock lightly on the thickness of the glass, or stand by the window and gaze at the distant mountain scenery for a while.
Zong Yi followed behind her, quietly observing.
The house was undoubtedly excellent—spacious, fully functional, and extremely private.
But she always felt that Yan Hanxie's gaze while viewing the house did not seem like someone evaluating a residence. It was more like… planning a kingdom.
"Here," Yan Hanxie stopped at the door of a south-facing room on the second floor with excellent lighting and pushed open the half-closed door.
The room was large, with an independent bathroom and a small terrace. It was currently empty except for the basic structural decorations.
"This could be used as a study, or… a guest room." She paused slightly, her gaze brushing over Zong Yi almost imperceptibly. "What do you think?"
Zong Yi froze for a moment, not expecting her to ask for her opinion. "The lighting is very good. It would be nice as a study," she answered in a standard, proper manner.
Yan Hanxie neither agreed nor disagreed and turned toward the master bedroom.
The master bedroom was astonishingly spacious, with an enormous walk-in closet and a luxurious bathroom equipped with a massage bathtub.
She walked to the floor-to-ceiling window and looked at the carefully maintained courtyard outside, remaining silent for a moment.
"It's too big," she suddenly said. Her voice was not loud, almost like speaking to herself. "Living alone, it's too empty."
The real estate manager immediately responded cleverly, "Miss Yan, for someone of your status this size is actually just right—grand yet still warm. And with such a large space, whether for hosting friends or considering other family members in the future, there will be more than enough room."
Other family members?
Zong Yi's heartbeat inexplicably skipped.
Yan Hanxie seemed not to hear the manager's words. She simply turned around and looked at Zong Yi, her gaze calm. "What do you think? Would it be… too lonely?"
The question was thrown to her again, carrying a subtle sense of consultation.
Facing her gaze, Zong Yi felt her throat tighten.
Of course she thought it was big, and she also thought it might feel lonely.
But such personal feelings did not seem appropriate for her to comment on.
"The spatial design is very good, and the functions are complete," she said, avoiding the main point. "As for whether it feels lonely… that probably depends more on the people living there and how it's arranged."
Yan Hanxie looked at her deeply. Something flashed quickly in her eyes—too quickly to grasp.
Then she nodded and said nothing more, continuing to look around.
After finishing the house tour, they returned to the car.
Yan Hanxie seemed somewhat tired. She leaned back into the seat and closed her eyes.
"Not satisfied?" Zong Yi asked tentatively.
"The house itself is fine," Yan Hanxie replied, her voice carrying fatigue. "It's just… missing something."
"Missing what?"
Yan Hanxie remained silent for a long time—so long that Zong Yi thought she had fallen asleep. Then she spoke extremely softly, almost inaudibly:
"Human presence."
Two words, light and simple, yet like a stone dropped into water, stirring complicated ripples in Zong Yi's heart.
She thought of Yan Hanxie's empty and cold apartment, thought of how she had faced her pain alone during her illness, thought of the almost stubborn way she sometimes demanded companionship…
The car drove back to the city in silence.
The setting sun dyed the sky a warm orange.
Over the next few days, Yan Hanxie looked at several more villas, calling Zong Yi each time.
The reasons were still "reference opinions" and "evaluating convenience."
The house-viewing process was mostly the same. Yan Hanxie always looked very carefully and asked many questions, yet she never made a decision.
Gradually Zong Yi began to notice something unusual. Yan Hanxie seemed particularly concerned about certain details—for example, whether the kitchen workflow was smooth and whether the counter space was wide enough ("convenient for two people to cook together"); whether there were enough well-lit guest rooms ("in case friends stay overnight"); whether the courtyard was suitable for planting flowers or even… placing a swing chair ("nice for reading in the sun").
These details revealed a longing for "family life," almost trivial in nature, completely inconsistent with the image Zong Yi previously had of Yan Hanxie as a business elite concerned only with efficiency and results.
What made Zong Yi even more uneasy was that Yan Hanxie began, intentionally or not, to include "you" in these imagined future scenes.
"The wardrobe in this guest room is big enough. It should be able to hold quite a lot of things," she said casually while opening a door.
"The kitchen island here—placing the knife you used last time here should be just right," she pointed to a spot.
"From this window, the night view should be nice. If you come back late after working overtime, you could relax a bit," she said while standing by the terrace on the third floor, glancing back at Zong Yi.
Each time, Zong Yi could only respond vaguely or pretend not to understand, while her heartbeat accelerated uncontrollably and her cheeks grew slightly warm.
She felt as if she had been drawn into a carefully designed, slowly advancing illusion. Yan Hanxie was using words and imagination to weave her bit by bit into that blueprint called "future residence."
And she—knowing clearly that it was a trap—seemed to have lost the strength to break free. At certain moments she would even shamefully feel a small, secret longing that she despised in herself.
Until one evening on the way back from viewing another house, the sunset dyed the inside of the car a warm golden color.
Yan Hanxie looked at the rapidly passing streets outside the window and suddenly spoke. Her voice was calm and steady, yet carried an unquestionable certainty:
"Zong Yi, what do you think about that one with the large terrace?"
Zong Yi froze for a moment and remembered the one she meant—the villa they had seen yesterday, slightly remote but with a huge courtyard and a curved terrace on the third floor with an excellent view.
"The environment is very quiet, and the terrace view is great," she evaluated objectively.
"Mm." Yan Hanxie responded, then turned her face toward her. The sunset light danced in her eyes. "I plan to settle on it."
Zong Yi's heartbeat suddenly stopped for a moment.
"That place is about a twenty-minute drive from your company's branch," Yan Hanxie continued, her tone as casual as if discussing the weather. "A little farther than here, but the road conditions are good. Without traffic, the time is about the same."
Zong Yi's fingers unconsciously curled.
Why was Yan Hanxie mentioning her company's branch?
That villa's location was indeed somewhat closer to the area where the new office for the 'Spark Project' she managed was located, but… what did that have to do with anything?
"The house is big. Cleaning it will be troublesome," Yan Hanxie continued, her gaze still fixed on her, her speaking pace unhurried. "Aunt Zhou probably can't handle it alone. And sometimes I may still need someone to help handle urgent work documents, or… to stay nearby during rehabilitation exercises at night."
She paused, watching Zong Yi's suddenly widened eyes and slightly pale face, then slowly and clearly revealed her final intention:
"So I was thinking…"
"The south-facing guest room on the second floor with the terrace has great lighting and good soundproofing. The study is right next door, convenient for work."
"How about moving in and living together?"
It was not a question.
Not a discussion.
It was the statement of a plan already formed—one that seemed "reasonable."
The air inside the car seemed to freeze at that moment.
The sunlight of the sunset was still warm, yet Zong Yi felt cold all over. Blood rushed to her head and then froze in her limbs.
She looked at Yan Hanxie.
The other woman's gaze was calm and deep. There was not the slightest hint of a joke or test within it—only an almost cruel seriousness and a trace of… absolute certainty of success.
The road of chasing her wife was long?
No. The hunter had already grown impatient with playing hide-and-seek.
She had simply overturned the chessboard and pointed to the richest, most central piece of land, announcing to the prey that already had nowhere left to escape:
"This place will be your nest from now on."
"Move in."
"Live with me."
Zong Yi opened her mouth, but found that her throat was so dry she could not make any sound at all.
The Buddhist beads on her wrist hung heavily, like a silent shackle.
The sunset finally sank completely below the horizon.
The interior of the car fell into darkness. Only the dashboard emitted a faint bluish glow, illuminating the silent profiles of the two women confronting each other.
Yan Hanxie continued looking at her, patiently waiting for her answer.
Or rather, waiting for the prey's final, futile struggle.
President Yan, whose mind was full of little calculations, had been working hard all along to get her wife to move into her villa.
That way, it would be more convenient to do some things… things she had long wanted to do, but had suffered from not having the right timing or place for, wasn't it?
—
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