The little bookstore café was at its softest in the evening.
Warm lamps glowed like paper lanterns, shadows of books leaned gently across the shelves, and the air carried the faint bitterness of ground beans mixed with the papery hush of pages turning.
Gu Ze Yan sat in his usual corner, back straight, a book open in his hands. He wasn't really reading. Not in the way he usually devoured reports or journals. Every few paragraphs, his eyes would flicker across the room—drawn as if by instinct.
Behind the counter, Lin Qing Yun moved with her usual quiet rhythm. She rang up a purchase, wiped the glass surface, poured hot water into a cup, and leaned slightly forward to listen to a child recite the title of a picture book. She smiled, warm and genuine, and the little boy grinned back before scampering to his mother.
Ze Yan's lips tugged faintly. That was enough. He didn't need conversation. Just sitting here, letting her be busy, letting himself watch from a respectful distance—it felt strangely satisfying.
He almost thought, if every day could end this way, he wouldn't ask for more.
The bell over the door chimed.
"Ah—so this is where you've been hiding!"
The voice was bright, confident, unmistakably familiar.
Ze Yan looked up to see Su Shen Qiao walking in, the soft click of her heels carrying her past the shelves. She wore a fitted coat, hair brushed to a glossy shine, makeup subtle but professional. She looked like she'd just stepped out of a business magazine cover—modern, stylish, entirely at ease with herself.
Her eyes landed on him instantly, and she let out a laugh.
"CEO Gu, do you know how many late nights I've spent suffering through project documents while you disappeared? And all along, you've been hiding in this cozy little bookshop? What a nice partner you are."
Ze Yan closed his book calmly, lips curving faintly. "How did you find me?"
She tossed her hair back with mock pride. "Your assistant Chen Rui, of course. He's a traitor—but a useful one."
He made a mental note to deduct Chen Rui's coffee privileges for a week.
They sat together, Shen Qiao sliding into the chair across from him as if she'd done it a hundred times before. Soon enough, they had laptops open between them, project notes scattered across the table. From afar, they looked like colleagues in perfect sync, faces bent close to the same screen.
From behind the counter, Qing Yun glanced up.
And smiled.
It wasn't the tight smile of jealousy, nor the nervous one of someone unsettled. It was simply genuine, admiring—she thought Shen Qiao was beautiful. Sleek, stylish, polished. A perfect match beside someone like Gu Ze Yan.
In her heart, she chuckled quietly. They looked good together. Perhaps… too good.
"Coffee for her," Ze Yan called lightly to the counter. "Black. No sugar."
"Coming right up," Qing Yun replied with her usual brightness.
A few minutes later, she placed the cup gently before Shen Qiao, steam curling upward. "Please enjoy."
Shen Qiao accepted it, but her sharp eyes didn't miss the easy warmth in Qing Yun's expression—the kind that wasn't put on for customers. It was lighter, softer. Different.
Ah. So this was it. The reason Gu Ze Yan kept slipping out of the office after five o'clock, only to turn up at meetings the next morning looking… uncharacteristically content.
She leaned back, crossing one elegant leg over the other, and smirked. "So, that's why you're here."
Ze Yan sipped his own cup without reacting. "That's not why I'm here."
"Mm, of course." Shen Qiao tapped the rim of her cup. "You just happen to enjoy stale air-conditioning and shelves full of poetry."
"Lin Qing Yun," Shen Qiao said suddenly after glancing at Qing Yun's name tag, her tone bright and playful. "Do you have a boyfriend?"
Qing Yun blinked, caught off guard by the directness, then shook her head with a laugh. "No."
"Really?" Shen Qiao leaned forward, mock conspiratorial. "Then why not take Mr. Gu here? He's loyal, at least—comes to your shop every single day, doesn't he?"
Qing Yun chuckled again, not flustered in the least. "Right now, I'm busy with work. Too busy, really. No time for relationships. But Mr. Gu is indeed a very good customer."
Her voice was calm, matter-of-fact, even kind.
Ze Yan's hand tightened minutely around his cup.
He tried to steer the moment back. "Sunny, this is Su Shen Qiao—my business partner."
Qing Yun tilted her head, smiling politely. "Are you two… together?"
Ze Yan opened his mouth—
But Shen Qiao got there first, grinning like a cat with cream. "Almost. We're always almost a couple, aren't we, Ze Yan?"
Qing Yun's smile brightened, completely genuine. "You do look good together."
The words were honest. Too honest.
Ze Yan felt something twist under his ribs.
Shen Qiao watched him carefully over the rim of her coffee, amused. "Poor thing," she teased, almost pitying. "Not even defended by the lady herself."
Qing Yun laughed lightly, completely oblivious.
The clock struck closing time. Customers drifted out, the bell over the door chiming farewell after farewell. By the time Shen Qiao packed her laptop, only the three of them remained.
"Well," Shen Qiao said, standing, "I'll leave you to your favorite café. Don't overwork, CEO Gu." She gave Qing Yun a wink before striding out into the night.
When the door shut behind her, the silence was different. Quieter. Warmer.
Ze Yan turned to Qing Yun. "I'll drive you home."
She hesitated, then nodded.
--
The car was a cocoon of muted streetlights and passing headlights. For a while, neither spoke. The city slipped by in streaks of neon.
Finally, his voice broke the silence. Low, steady. "Is it true? That you really don't want… a relationship?"
Her gaze stayed on the window. "Mm. Right now, my life is full. I want to give everything to my sister, to her dreams. That's enough for me. I'm satisfied."
Her words were simple, calm. Not bitter, not hesitant—just her truth.
Ze Yan's hands tightened on the wheel. A quiet sadness spread through him.
He didn't push.
--
They stopped at a small seafood noodle shop tucked into a side street. She ordered, chatted with the owner, laughed when the broth came out steaming. He listened, smiled faintly, but spoke less than usual.
Normally he always had something to tease her with. Tonight, he let her do most of the talking.
She noticed. Of course she noticed. But she didn't press—she respected silences the way she respected everything: with patience.
--
Later, at her apartment building, he opened the door for her as always.
"Good night," she said warmly, lifting her bag.
"Good night," he echoed, his tone softer than usual.
She smiled, waved, and disappeared inside.
--
At home, Gu Ze Yan lay awake in the dark.
Her laughter still lingered in his ears.
Her calm dismissal of love still pressed against his chest.
For the first time in a long time, Gu Ze Yan—the man admired, envied, chased after—felt completely lost.
He turned onto his side, eyes open to the ceiling.
And wondered, quietly, painfully: What if Sunny never learns to see me the way I see her?