Chapter 62
Dinner was with Ye Yuyuan.
It was almost unbelievable—despite knowing each other for so long, this was the first time they had ever eaten out together.
Taking Fang Huai’s tastes into account, they chose a private kitchen-style restaurant. The atmosphere was excellent. Fang Huai even had a bit of alcohol—a homemade plum wine brewed by the owner, low in alcohol content but very delicious.
After dinner, Ye Yuyuan drove Fang Huai home.
Mid-Autumn Festival was in two days. Fang Huai would be staying at Ye Yuyuan’s place for a week, and they would celebrate together.
Fang Huai had a low alcohol tolerance. Even though the plum wine was mild, his cheeks flushed slightly, a light sweat forming on his nose. The pale color of his eyes reflected the moonlight, making them shine brightly. He was a little tipsy but not rowdy. As the wind blew against his face, he hummed a tune, tapping out a soft rhythm against his leg.
Ye Yuyuan glanced at him. His face showed no particular emotion, but a rare softness flickered in his dark eyes.
For many years, there had been very few moments in Ye Yuyuan’s life where he had felt this kind of deep contentment.
Fang Huai sang lightly, his voice clear and bright, carried by the autumn night breeze as they drove down the road.
Carefree, innocent, and full of youthful charm.
He wasn’t holding back at all, singing at full volume. His unique voice was as refreshing as a bubbling spring under the moonlight—captivating.
The city was illuminated by dazzling neon lights, with cars and pedestrians rushing about. Yet Fang Huai’s voice flowed through the streets, oddly out of place yet strangely poetic.
At a red light, a car stopped beside them.
The driver, a woman in her twenties, smiled and whistled.
“Hey, handsome! Your voice sounds just like my idol’s!”
Ye Yuyuan: “…”
Fang Huai pondered for a moment, then rolled down the window, looked at her seriously, and nodded.
“What a coincidence.”
With the window now down, they were only half a meter apart, staring at each other.
The woman, wearing sunglasses and sporting glamorous waves, had one hand casually holding a cigarette outside the window.
Her hand trembled. The cigarette slipped from her fingers, landing on the ground.
Her eyes widened. “You, you, you—”
At that exact moment, the light turned green.
Without a word, Ye Yuyuan stepped on the gas.
The Maybach sped away, disappearing into the night.
The female driver: “………………”
Holy sh*t. That was the real deal!
*
When they finally arrived home, Fang Huai said goodbye to Ye Yuyuan and headed upstairs alone.
As he climbed the stairs, the cool early autumn breeze brushed against him, and Fang Huai sobered up.
When he unlocked the door and stepped inside, the quietness of the apartment made him feel something indescribable.
How should he put it?
Ever since he joined the Frost production team, he had been constantly surrounded by people—first with the team working on the theme song, then with the film crew. Wherever he went, there was always a crowd, and his schedule was so packed that he barely had a moment to breathe.
Now, for the first time in a long while, he was finally alone.
But instead of relief, a faint sense of loneliness and aimlessness settled in.
Humans, by nature, are solitary creatures. Loneliness is an inescapable trait—it follows you like a shadow, no matter what you do.
Fang Huai shut the door and turned on the overhead light. After a moment’s thought, he switched it off again, leaving only a small night lamp on.
He tried to get used to the feeling, walking into the kitchen to heat up some milk in a small pot.
A draft swept through the hallway—it was a bit chilly. The moon hung far away in the sky, and the old sofa stood quietly in the dim night. The potted plants on the balcony, regularly watered by someone, remained lush and thriving.
He used to be very accustomed to loneliness. After all, he had been alone from a young age, never having many companions.
But now…
Fang Huai paused, fingers tightening around his cup. His gaze fell on his palm.
He slowly closed his fingers, as if grasping something—yet, at the same time, it felt like he was holding onto nothing at all.
He turned on the faucet. Not a single drop of water came out.
Fang Huai frowned in confusion. At that exact moment, the small night lamp above his head flickered and went out.
He called the building management. A Cantonese-speaking man answered, and after a painfully difficult conversation, Fang Huai finally understood: he had forgotten to pay his utility bills, and both water and electricity had been cut off.
They wouldn’t be restored until tomorrow morning.
Fang Huai: “…”
Just then, his phone rang.
It was Ye Yuyuan.
Fang Huai raised an eyebrow, a little surprised. “Ye Yuyuan? Hm, I thought you were on your way home.”
The man’s voice was low and smooth, carrying a hint of spatial depth through the faint static on the call. It sounded really nice.
“I was thinking,” Ye Yuyuan said casually, “if you’re willing, you could just stay over tonight.”
He paused briefly, then coughed lightly—an attempt to cover up something—as he added, “I heard you forgot to pay your water and electricity bills.”
Fang Huai: “…”
*
Mid-Autumn Festival was approaching.
This year, it coincided with National Day, creating a ten-day holiday.
The festival was just a day away. While people were still working and attending school, the streets were already decorated with rows of small lanterns. Businesses seized the opportunity to run holiday promotions, and the city bustled with life.
It was the last workday before the long break. Tomorrow would be Mid-Autumn Festival—the beginning of ten days of freedom.
Starting from 4 PM, every office was filled with employees counting down the minutes until they could clock out. Ptah had a great work culture, but even here, people couldn’t help but anticipate the holiday.
At 4:30 PM, a three-hour-long meeting was finally nearing its end.
Two executives were still heatedly arguing over a particular issue.
At the head of the table, the man in charge sat in silence, listening. His face was as calm and indifferent as ever, making it impossible to tell whose side he favored.
Another five minutes passed.
Suddenly, Ye Yuyuan lowered his gaze and glanced at his watch.
Everyone else: “…”
The two executives immediately tensed up, their voices lowering. Having such a taciturn boss, everyone had learned to read between the lines and interpret his subtle cues.
However, despite their efforts, the meeting still couldn’t end on time due to the complexity of the issue.
At 5:10 PM, Ye Yuyuan’s phone screen lit up.
Everyone knew that President Ye never looked at his phone during meetings. In most cases, his phone was completely turned off. It was an unspoken rule, so no one expected that this time—after a brief moment of silence—Ye Yuyuan actually picked up his phone, walked to the side, and spoke softly into it.
The distance made it impossible to hear what he said, but they could see his expression.
—His gaze lowered, his eyes unbelievably gentle, and there was even a faint, suspicious flush on his ears.
…What the hell is going on?!
Several executives nearly spilled their tea on the spot. For the rest of the meeting, their minds were completely preoccupied with gossip.
*
Ten minutes later, the meeting ended.
His secretary approached and asked, “President Ye, since you’ll be working overtime later, should I prepare dinner for you? Or—”
Every year, during most public holidays, Ye Yuyuan never took time off.
Even when half the company was on break, he would stay in his office, reviewing documents or coding. He was extremely self-disciplined—sometimes to an almost unbelievable extent.
But this time, Ye Yuyuan glanced at the secretary and said, “No overtime.”
He put away his documents, picked up his car keys, and a faint smile—so quick it was almost imperceptible—flashed across his lips.
He said calmly,
“I’m going home for the holiday.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he paused, suddenly realizing something had changed.
He was no longer an outsider to this world, no longer just a machine working through the holidays.
For the first time, he was like those ordinary nine-to-five employees who earned modest salaries.
For the first time, he was just a normal person with a home to return to.
Before, Ye Yuyuan had never considered the place he lived a home. He spent more time at the office than in that empty apartment.
But this time, things were different.
In that vast, colorless, gray-toned house, a vibrant little figure had moved in.
As if touched by magic, all the gray hues began to fade away.
His life had now been divided into twelve hours of color.
From waking up together for breakfast in the morning, to saying goodnight in the evening—those twelve hours were filled with colors he had never imagined.
Until the clock struck midnight—Cinderella’s magic fading away.
The door closed, and everything in his life returned to its dull, colorless state.
He would retreat to his gray room, waiting for the next morning to come.
*
Thirty minutes later.
As soon as Ye Yuyuan opened the door, a lively piano melody flowed out like running water.
The notes danced playfully, blending seamlessly with the festive atmosphere outside. The evening breeze carried the fluttering colors of holiday banners through the air.
A soft, familiar voice called out—
“You’re back?”
Fang Huai sat by the grand piano near the floor-to-ceiling windows, pressing the final sequence of notes to finish his piece. Then, he walked over to Ye Yuyuan with a smile and started chatting.
It was as if they had been living together for a long time—talking naturally as they finished dinner. Afterward, Ye Yuyuan went to wash the dishes, while Fang Huai sat barefoot on the floor, gripping a game controller and playing a video game.
He had never played before, but after discovering it at Ye Yuyuan’s house and trying it out, he had accidentally gotten hooked.
“Fang Huai, put on your socks,” Ye Yuyuan said, placing the dishes into the dishwasher before stepping out and frowning at him. “You’ll catch a cold.”
Fang Huai was completely focused on the TV screen, absentmindedly responding, “Okay, in a bit.”
Ye Yuyuan went back to start the dishwasher, adjusting the settings. A few minutes later, he returned, only to find that Fang Huai was still sitting cross-legged on the floor with bare feet, eyes fixed on the screen, his serious expression oddly adorable.
Ye Yuyuan: “…”
“Put on your socks,” he reminded again.
Fang Huai didn’t even think before replying, “Yeah, yeah, in a bit.”
With no other choice, Ye Yuyuan went to Fang Huai’s bag to retrieve a pair of socks. As he pulled them out, an underwear accidentally came with it—an off-white pair, slightly worn, with an Ultraman print on it.
Ye Yuyuan: “…”
He stared at it, momentarily speechless. Then, as if something had crossed his mind, the tips of his ears immediately turned red.
After a long pause, he hurriedly looked away, crouched down, and awkwardly folded the underwear before placing it back.
Meanwhile, Fang Huai was still on the floor, engrossed in his game. The plush wool carpet beneath him kept it from being uncomfortable. His skin was pale, his toes tinged with a slight pink as they dangled in the air.
“Put on your socks,” Ye Yuyuan said, patiently. “I put them here for you.”
Fang Huai, both hands occupied with the controller, showed no intention of letting go.
After a moment of silence, Ye Yuyuan simply sat down beside him, picked up the socks, and started putting them on for him.
Fang Huai, surprisingly cooperative, remained completely still and let Ye Yuyuan slide the socks onto his feet.
After dinner, Ye Yuyuan sat in the living room with his laptop, working, while Fang Huai continued his game.
Around 8 PM, the two of them watched some TV together, ate some fruit, and then it was time for bed.
Fang Huai said goodnight to Ye Yuyuan, went into his room, and climbed into bed. He fell asleep almost immediately, without a care in the world.
Meanwhile, Ye Yuyuan sat alone in the living room for a long time before finally lowering his gaze and heading back to his own room.
And just like that, the day came to an end.
*
The next morning.
Fang Huai woke up to a call from Shi Feiran, asking him to record a short Mid-Autumn Festival greeting video for his fans on Weibo.
Having never recorded a video by himself before, Fang Huai had trouble figuring it out—until Ye Yuyuan stepped in to help.
They chose Ye Yuyuan’s balcony as the background. Behind Fang Huai stretched a vast, brilliant blue sky.
The autumn sky was high and expansive, like a vividly colored oil painting straight from the hands of a creator.
Holding up the phone, Ye Yuyuan looked at Fang Huai and signaled for him to start speaking.
Fang Huai had already thought about what he wanted to say in advance. His words were simple yet sincere.
“Today is Mid-Autumn Festival,” the young man smiled at the camera. “I hope you all have a joyful celebration, enjoy delicious food, and take the time to rest and relax.”
“And, I hope you can reunite with your loved ones.”
“Happy Mid-Autumn Festival.”
After finishing, Fang Huai looked up at Ye Yuyuan. The man gave him a slight nod. Fang Huai smiled again at the camera, then reached out to cover the lens with his hand, marking the end of the short video.
However, after the video was uploaded, despite the seemingly ordinary message, it unexpectedly sparked a wave of discussion.
How to put it…
In the video, Fang Huai was wearing a cream-colored turtleneck sweater, looking casual yet refined, clean and handsome—almost like a high school student. But more than that, there was something about his expression when he looked into the camera.
It was a kind of closeness and warmth, something he had never shown before when facing a lens.
It felt as if he were looking through the camera at someone special. Especially in that final second—after finishing his message, everyone could see him glance up and smile at the person behind the camera, a natural expression of joy and ease.
And then, there was something indescribable about the way he appeared in the video.
As everyone knows, a camera isn’t just a tool—it reflects the mood of the person behind it.
The one holding the camera must have deep affection for Fang Huai.
Watching the video, many people had the same thought. The way it was shot—the angle, the colors—didn’t need any words. Anyone could feel the tenderness woven into every frame.
[Ahhhhh I’m dying!!! This sweater looks so good 555 I want to wear matching outfits with him!]
[This is the first time I’ve seen him look at the camera like that… Didn’t he use to be camera-shy?]
[Who’s holding the camera? It better not be Shi Feiran?! No way, this shot feels way too intimate. I’m kinda jealous?!]
[Happy Mid-Autumn Festival, Fang Huai! When’s the album coming out? My wallet is READY!]
After recording the video, they were supposed to be free for the rest of the day.
That night was Mid-Autumn Festival, and they had already planned where to go for moon-watching. The entire day was meant to be leisurely, with nothing urgent to take care of.
—Or so they thought.
At noon, Fang Huai received an urgent call from Shi Feiran, asking to discuss something about the album. He said he needed Fang Huai to come by that afternoon.
“I don’t want to work,” Fang Huai frowned. “Does it have to be today?”
Shi Feiran sounded equally helpless.
“This came up suddenly. Today is the only possible time. It’s just for the afternoon, I won’t take up too much of your time.”
Fang Huai quickly picked up on the implication in his words. He paused for a moment and asked, “Is there something special about today?”
Shi Feiran hesitated for a second before replying:
“It’s Professor Dong…”
“He wants to see you.”
