They walked into the restaurant, its warm lighting and soft classical music setting a serene tone. A waiter led them to a private table near the window, the city lights flickering softly outside.
Yifan pulled out a chair for Lian, and once she was seated, he took the seat across from her.
After a brief glance at the menu, he ordered without hesitation ...
Peking duck, crispy honey shrimp, stir-fried beef in black pepper sauce, and jasmine rice with a pot of osmanthus tea.
He closed the menu and leaned back into his chair, relaxed, eyes quietly fixed on her.
Moments later, the dishes began arriving in waves ...warm, fragrant, and beautifully plated.
"…This is a feast," Lian gasped, her eyes wide with delight as the last plate was placed in front of her.
"It's a good thing you're still a foodie," Yifan said with a subtle smile, picking up his chopsticks.
But Lian had already started digging in, her excitement getting the best of her. She was halfway through a bite when she paused and looked at him with puffed cheeks, cheeks pink from the warmth of the food.
"…What?" she mumbled with a mouthful.
Yifan shook his head slightly, amused. "Nothing. Just… you haven't changed at all."
Lian smiled, cheeks warm as she chewed. Something in his tone stirred an old comfort.
The rest of the night passed in a gentle blur, food shared between laughs, light teasing, and lingering glances that hovered between affection and something unspoken. Occasionally, their knees brushed under the table.
When they finished their meal, he stood and helped her with her coat like a gentleman, always polished, his gaze lingering just a second too long.
The ride back to her house was calm, soft music playing in the background. Neither of them said much, but the silence wasn't awkward.
As they arrived at her home, the driver parked and Yifan turned to her.
"Thanks for tonight," she said, voice quiet, sincere.
Yifan reached over, brushing a strand of hair from her face. Then, gently, he leaned in and placed a kiss on her forehead, warm.
"Good night, Lian," he murmured.
She stepped out of the car with a small, giddy smile, waving at him before skipping toward the front door, heels clicking on the pavement. The car didn't move until she disappeared inside.
What she didn't notice, however, was the tall silhouette framed against the upstairs window, broad-shouldered, unmoving, a watchful figure veiled by the curtain shadows.
Lian unlocked the door and entered quietly, slipping her heels off with a soft sigh of relief. She padded into the living room, only to halt mid-step at the low voice that greeted her.
"…Brother Wenbo."
Wenbo sat on the armrest of the couch, arms crossed over his chest, his posture calm but imposing. The dim light caught the sharp lines of his face, eyes narrowed, calculating.
"Lian," he said slowly, voice smooth but cold. "Welcome home."
She smiled awkwardly. "Thanks…"
His eyes didn't leave her face. "Someone dropped you off?"
"…Yes," she answered, her smile faltering just slightly, a split-second stiffness that didn't escape his notice.
There was a pause. Heavy. He didn't press further. "I made dinner," he finally said, standing to his full height.
The shift in him was subtle, protective, unreadable. His tone was neutral, but his eyes bore into her like steel.
She knew what he wasn't saying. Who he suspected.
And she knew that her flinch, as subtle as it was, had already confirmed everything.
Wenbo said nothing more. He turned and walked toward the kitchen, leaving her standing there like a guilty child who'd been caught sneaking out after curfew.
She swallowed and looked down, her fingers tightening around her bag.
The warmth from Yifan's forehead kiss had barely begun to fade. And yet now, standing here beneath her brother's gaze, it felt like an invisible wall had slammed back into place.
Lian walked slowly to the dinner table, her footsteps light against the polished floor. She sat down quietly, her eyes falling to the steaming dishes Wenbo had laid out. The familiar scent of stir-fried vegetables and soy-braised pork filled the air, but her appetite had long disappeared.
She only stared.
Across the table, Wenbo chewed thoughtfully, watching her from beneath lowered lashes. "Not hungry?" he asked, his voice calm but sharp, like the edge of a knife wrapped in silk. He picked another piece of meat with his chopsticks and placed it into his bowl without waiting for an answer.
"I've… had dinner already." Her voice was soft, nearly inaudible, but he caught every syllable.
For a moment, he said nothing. Just stared.
Then, with a flick of his hand, he leaned back slightly and nodded. "Alright. Go to bed."
Lian stood up quietly, her heart beating faster than it should have. "Good night," she whispered, and left the room without meeting his eyes.
Upstairs, in the quiet of her bedroom, she slipped out of her clothes and stepped into the bathroom. The mirror reflected her flushed cheeks and the faint trace of pink lip tint that still lingered. She wiped it away quickly, as though erasing the memory of the evening.
The water was warm as it ran down her skin, but it didn't wash away the unease she felt under Wenbo's gaze.
After changing into her nightwear, she sat on the edge of her bed, brushing her hair in silence. The memory of Yifan's soft kiss on her forehead made her lips curl, then fall again.
She sighed and slipped under the covers. The bed felt colder than usual.
Only when her eyes fluttered shut did her mind finally begin to slow.
Morning came.
Light spilled gently through the sheer curtains, casting golden streaks on her sheets. Birds chirped faintly outside, and the low hum of the city waking up murmured beyond the windows.
Lian stretched, groggy but rested. For a few seconds, she lay still, hugging her pillow. Then reality crept back in, Wenbo's stare, Yifan's closeness, the whisper of something shifting beneath the surface of her calm life.
She pulled herself up and made her bed before heading into the bathroom. After a quick shower, she tied her hair back into a simple ponytail and dressed in a pale beige blouse and pleated skirt her usual safe, quiet look.
When she descended the stairs, she found Wenbo already at the dining table and breakfast waiting, congee, boiled eggs, and pickled vegetables.
He looked up once, eyes unreadable.
"Good morning," she said.
"Hmm" was all he replied.