Chapter 20

When Li Sipei lost hid temper, the ones who suffered were still Ruan Xin and the others. Without even understanding what had happened, they were unceremoniously kicked out by him with a cold expression.

Bang—the door slammed shut.

Outside, the group exchanged uncertain glances.

After a suffocating silence, a young man hesitantly spoke up. “Sister Ruan, are we going back to our own homes again tonight?”

They were essentially Li Sipei’s accompanying team—wherever he stayed, they stayed. But now that he was back in A City and didn’t like sharing living space with them, they usually went home whenever they weren’t on duty.

This wasn’t the first time they had been collectively kicked out.

For the past half-month or so, Third Master’s mood had been… odd.

To put it bluntly, it was unpredictable.

To put it nicely, he finally seemed more human, experiencing real emotions.

Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, they couldn’t say.

Ruan Xin furrowed her brows and hesitated for a long time before making a decision. “Go home and rest. Come back in the morning when I give the word.”

The young man asked, “What about you?”

“I’ll wait a little longer. If Third Master still doesn’t call for me by two or three in the morning, I’ll leave.”

Hearing this, the others couldn’t help showing sympathetic expressions. But there was nothing they could do—there was no way they could really leave Third Master alone here, right?

If the old madam found out, she’d make sure they suffered the consequences.

After exchanging farewells and watching the others enter the elevator, Ruan Xin returned to the door alone.

The feeling of waiting around in this enclosed corridor was downright miserable. After pacing for a while, she finally got tired and crouched outside the emergency stairwell, playing on her phone.

Time ticked by.

The corridor’s motion-activated lights flickered on and off, on and off—until at last, they seemed to stop detecting Ruan Xin’s presence and left her in darkness.

Just before ten o’clock, faint noises came from inside the heavy security door.

The sensor light suddenly turned back on.

Ruan Xin, whose legs had gone numb from squatting, slowly stood up and approached the door, listening carefully.

It was the intercom ringing.

This late at night…

Who could be pressing the doorbell?

Ruan Xin hesitated. Estimating that Li Sipei was in his bedroom and likely wouldn’t hear it—or even if he did, he wouldn’t come out—she entered the passcode and opened the door.

The intercom had a video function. She pressed a button, and the previously dark screen instantly lit up, revealing a pale face.

The overhead light cast a flawless glow on the person’s features. Round, wide eyes darted about curiously.

Noticing the call had been answered, those round eyes blinked rapidly before a soft voice called out, “Hello?”

It was him.

The kid from the mountain villa.

Ruan Xin’s nerves relaxed a little. It took her a moment to recall his name—Mi Zhao.

She asked, “Are you looking for Mr. Li?”

Mi Zhao also took a few seconds to recognize Ruan Xin. He nodded and asked back, “Is he home?”

“He is, but he’s already resting.” Ruan Xin’s tone remained neutral, but the underlying message was clear—go home. “Why don’t you come by tomorrow? I’ll let Mr. Li know in the morning.”

Mi Zhao wasn’t the type to overstay his welcome. If he and Li Sipei were just ordinary friends, he wouldn’t insist.

But they weren’t just ordinary friends.

Thinking about how Li Sipei had hung up on him, Mi Zhao had no choice but to push through his embarrassment and persist. “Is he asleep?”

“He should be.”

“What time did he go to bed?”

“A while ago,” Ruan Xin said, thinking for a moment. “Maybe an hour?”

“Then… maybe he’s not asleep yet?” Mi Zhao rarely pestered people, and he stumbled over his words slightly.

Luckily, Ruan Xin wasn’t annoyed. She simply chuckled and said, “You haven’t known Mr. Li for long, so you don’t understand his habits yet. He’s used to sleeping early—sometimes, he lies down as soon as nine o’clock. By now, he’s most likely already asleep.”

Mi Zhao: “…”

How was he supposed to know that?

As far as he was aware, whenever he spent the night with Li Sipei, there was absolutely no way that man would be lying down before three in the morning.

At this point, he didn’t know what else to say. He still wasn’t entirely sure why Li Sipei was angry, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that someone who was this upset wasn’t going to come out and see him.

Looked like he had made this trip for nothing.

Mi Zhao sighed. “Sorry to bother you, sister. I’ll just—”

Before he could finish, Ruan Xin suddenly interrupted him—loudly and abruptly.

“Wait!”

Mi Zhao: “?”

Ruan Xin stammered in a panic before raising her voice even more. “Wait, wait, wait! I’ll open the door right now, come up!”

Mi Zhao was dumbfounded. “…Huh?”

With a click, the security door unlocked.

Over the intercom, Ruan Xin sounded almost frantic. “The door’s open—are you coming up or not?”

Mi Zhao was completely baffled, but he didn’t ask further. He simply pushed the door open and stepped inside.

—Meanwhile, upstairs at the entryway.

Ruan Xin hung up the intercom, beads of cold sweat forming on her forehead as she turned stiffly toward Li Sipei.

Dressed in sleepwear, seated in his wheelchair, Li Sipei had arrived at some point, his displeasure written all over his face.

“Third Master…” Ruan Xin was so terrified of this expression that even her voice faltered. “He’s on his way up.”

Li Sipei’s expression remained blank as he gave a cold “mm.” His tone matched his face—icy.

“I don’t like people interfering in my personal matters.”

“U-Understood!” Ruan Xin’s face went pale, and she practically shrank into her collar. “I won’t do it again.”

“See that you don’t.”

“Got it.”

A brief silence followed before Li Sipei finally said, “You can go now.”

The autumn night air was far from hot, yet in this moment, Ruan Xin found herself drenched in sweat.

Without daring to linger even a second longer, she made the fastest escape of her life.

The hallway had two elevators, both initially inactive. Only when Ruan Xin took one down to the basement parking garage did she notice the other one going up.

She watched the numbers on the screen change, recalling the stifling atmosphere earlier. She patted her chest, still feeling a lingering sense of unease.

—

With a soft ding, the elevator doors slowly opened.

Mi Zhao stepped out, struggling under the weight of what he was carrying, his steps unsteady.

He finally reached the door, set down the heavy load, wiped his sweat, and, without even catching his breath, impatiently raised his hand to knock.

He knocked firmly, but after a long while, no one answered.

“That’s weird.” Mi Zhao scratched his neck. Just a minute or two ago, that sister was still talking to him through the intercom, wasn’t she?

Unfortunately, he didn’t have her contact information, so he could only take out his phone and tentatively dial Li Sipei’s number.

To his surprise, the call connected immediately.

Li Sipei’s phone was on.

Mi Zhao instinctively held his breath. Just as he was feeling nervous, the ringing tone was abruptly replaced by silence.

“Li Sipei?” Mi Zhao called out softly.

“Mm.” This time, the response was quick.

Mi Zhao originally wanted to ask directly whether Li Sipei was angry, but he felt that if he asked that, not only would he not get an answer, but it would also make things even more awkward.

The words lingered at the tip of his tongue before he swallowed them back down.

In the end, he changed the question. “Are you asleep?”

“I am.”

Hearing that, Mi Zhao felt a little guilty. “Did my call wake you up?”

“Mm.”

Mi Zhao hesitated before gritting his teeth and saying, “Then never mind, you can go back to sleep—”

“You already woke me up, and now you’re telling me to go back to sleep?” Li Sipei’s voice instantly turned cold.

“…” Mi Zhao was at a loss. “Then I—”

Li Sipei asked, “Did you call for something?”

Mi Zhao took a deep breath. “Open the door.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Just open it,” Mi Zhao said. “I’m right outside your place.”

Silence fell on the other end again. After a while, some faint noises came through—it was the sound of a doorknob turning.

Half a minute later, the security door in front of Mi Zhao was pulled open from the inside.

With a loud thud, he shoved the heavy bundle forward.

Through the bundle, Li Sipei remained motionless.

Perplexed, Mi Zhao poked his head out from behind it, only to see Li Sipei sitting in his wheelchair in pajamas, his slightly dazed gaze fixed on the enormous bouquet between them.

“…” After a long pause, Li Sipei spoke blankly. “What is this?”

“Flowers, of course. They’re for you.” Mi Zhao beamed, his eyes glimmering with excitement. His fair face, framed by the vibrant red roses, looked especially fresh and clean.

Two hundred and ninety-nine roses.

He had visited several florists to gather this many, and carrying them all the way here had exhausted him.

“I know they’re flowers.” Li Sipei’s expression gradually became unnatural. He gripped the armrests of his wheelchair, his voice slightly tense. “What I mean is… why are you giving them to me?”

To get you to stop being mad, of course.

That’s what Mi Zhao thought, but he didn’t dare say it outright.

“I saw that other people have them, so obviously, you should have them too.” Mi Zhao carried the bouquet into the entryway, glancing around. “These are really heavy—my arms are sore from holding them. Where should I put them?”

Li Sipei gazed up at him for two seconds, then maneuvered his wheelchair to close the door while replying, “The bedroom.”

It was only Mi Zhao’s second visit, yet he already moved around as if he were at home. He placed the bouquet by the bedside, leaning it against the wall, and carefully adjusted the wrapping.

Li Sipei followed him in, standing silently in the doorway, watching.

Mi Zhao straightened up and asked, “Where are the caregivers?”

“I sent them home,” Li Sipei replied.

Hearing that, Mi Zhao felt delighted—didn’t this mean it’d be easy for him to stay the night?

But he hadn’t brought anything with him, so he’d have to head out later to find a convenience store.

After rushing here non-stop, he was parched. When he went to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the fridge, he noticed untouched dishes on the counter.

He reached out and felt the bottom of a plate.

Cold.

By the time he finished his water and returned, Li Sipei was waiting in the living room. Offhandedly, Mi Zhao asked, “Have you eaten dinner?”

Li Sipei hesitated briefly, then pressed his lips together and said, “I have.”

Mi Zhao didn’t respond. Instead, he strode up to Li Sipei, clasped his hands behind his back, and bent forward to scrutinize his face.

His gaze was intense, his expression serious, his brows furrowed—like he was facing a formidable opponent.

The two were so close that their breaths intertwined. For a moment, Li Sipei’s heart skipped a beat, and his body instinctively tensed.

Mi Zhao’s long, curled eyelashes fluttered like tiny fans as he blinked.

Li Sipei found himself fixating on them, his voice hoarse as he asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m recording with my eyes.”

“Recording what?”

“Your lying face.”

“…”

Suddenly, Mi Zhao chuckled. He nimbly swung his leg over and squeezed into the wheelchair, cupping Li Sipei’s face in his hands before leaning down to capture those thin lips.

As their breaths deepened, he lightly bit Li Sipei’s lower lip.

A soft laugh escaped between them. Mi Zhao’s lips curled upward as he gazed at Li Sipei’s face, now just inches away.

“You look handsome even when you’re lying.”

Li Sipei: “…”

His back remained stiff and straight, his gaze cool and indifferent as he uttered a single syllable in an icy monotone. “Mm.”

Yet, a deep flush crept up his ears, spreading across his cheeks.

By the end, even the base of his neck had turned red.