The night lights of Liangcheng stretched into blurred streaks as Gu Ze Yan drove. His hands gripped the steering wheel tighter than necessary, the smooth leather digging faintly into his palms. The hum of the engine, usually a comforting rhythm, only amplified the unease twisting in his chest.
Boyfriend's parents.
Qing Yun's words replayed in his mind, sharp and impossible to ignore. She had said it so casually to her colleagues—like it was nothing. But for him, it was a storm.
She, who always laughed brightly yet claimed she had no time for romance, now dressed herself so carefully… for another man.
The thought stabbed at him.
Traffic lights changed. He hardly noticed. All he knew was the destination.
LD Hotel's glowing letters appeared ahead, tall and confident against the night sky. His car rolled into the drive. A valet jogged forward, polite words ready, but Ze Yan simply stepped out, tossing him the keys without a glance.
"I'll be quick," he muttered.
And then he strode through the glass doors, into the hotel's bright, perfumed lobby.
The lobby buzzed with quiet wealth: chandeliers dripping light, marble floors shining like frozen water, women in silk gowns, men in pressed suits.
Ze Yan moved through it like a blade, eyes scanning.
And then—
He stopped.
There.
Just past the entrance to the restaurant, Lin Qing Yun appeared.
She wore a soft dress, hair falling in gentle waves, her face touched with faint makeup. She looked… different. Brighter. Like spring light reflected in winter glass.
And she wasn't alone.
A man walked beside her. Tall, sleek, in a tailored suit. His hand held hers with easy familiarity. He leaned close to say something, and she smiled—warm, soft, genuine.
The smile that always felt like his.
Ze Yan's breath caught, sharp and sudden. His chest tightened as the pair walked into the restaurant, where a waiter guided them toward a table already set for four.
Two older figures rose to greet them. The man's parents, clearly. Their faces lit up with delight when their son introduced Qing Yun—his girlfriend.
Lin Qing Yun bowed her head politely, offering both hands for a shake. She laughed lightly at something the father said, her voice carrying across the room.
Ze Yan stood at the threshold, frozen. The scene should have been nothing to him. Just another dinner in another restaurant. But each second felt like a needle pressing deeper.
Finally, he forced his legs to move, signaling a waiter with a flick of his hand.
"Table," he said quietly. "Somewhere there."
The restaurant was softly lit, the clink of glasses and low hum of conversation filling the air.
Ze Yan slid into a seat angled just enough to give him a view of Qing Yun's table. The waiter lingered, waiting for an order.
Ze Yan didn't look up. His gaze was locked on her, the curve of her face as she listened attentively, the faint tilt of her shoulders as she leaned closer to the so-called boyfriend.
"Sir?" the waiter prompted gently.
Ze Yan blinked, annoyed at the interruption. "Surprise me."
The waiter looked startled, then nodded quickly and retreated.
Ze Yan leaned back, fingers steepled, eyes never leaving Qing Yun.
The scene played out like a performance meant to torment him.
Lin Qing Yun laughed at the father's jokes, her eyes sparkling. She listened kindly to the mother, nodding at each remark, occasionally adding her own gentle words. And then—her hand brushed the man's, lingering for a second too long.
The man rested a casual hand at her back. Later, he leaned in, pressing it lightly against her waist.
Ze Yan's jaw clenched. His fingers curled into fists beneath the table, knuckles white. For a fleeting, dangerous second, he imagined standing up, crossing the room, tearing that hand away and slamming it into the polished floor.
Instead, he drew a long breath through his nose, forcing the thought away.
Control. Always control.
Dishes arrived. Plates gleamed with careful arrangements. Qing Yun's laughter again, like glass beads scattering.
The waiter placed a plate before Ze Yan, whispering about the chef's surprise. He hardly noticed. His eyes were fixed on Qing Yun leaning close to the man, lips brushing near his ear as she whispered something.
The man chuckled, the parents smiling approvingly.
Ze Yan nearly choked on his own breath. His fork clattered softly onto porcelain.
Then came the words that hollowed him further.
The parents asked—when will the wedding be?
The man smiled easily, confidence oozing. "Soon."
Qing Yun didn't deny it. She simply smiled, lowering her gaze, as if in shy agreement.
Ze Yan sat still, though inside everything cracked. The restaurant noise faded, replaced by the dull roar of blood in his ears.
So she did have someone.
And he—what was he, then? Just another customer. Just a fool mistaking her warmth for something more.
Dinner ended. Chairs scraped, coats lifted. Ze Yan ducked slightly, pretending to check his phone as the group walked past. He followed discreetly, the waiter giving him a strange look as he paid his bill with brisk efficiency.
In the lobby, he lingered in the shadows.
The man hugged Qing Yun's waist, kissed her cheek with bold ease.
In front of his parents.
Qing Yun didn't pull away. She only smiled, gentle and bright.
Then they left together, sliding into a sleek car that purred away from the hotel entrance.
Ze Yan stood in the lobby long after their taillights vanished.
The marble floor reflected him—tall, sharp suit, handsome face. The picture of confidence. Yet beneath it, his chest was hollow, his breath shallow.
Sunny.
The girl who laughed with him over tangyuan. The girl who blushed when he teased her. The girl who fell asleep safe in his car.
Had all of that been an illusion?
He pressed his lips together, forcing down the ache.
Maybe he was wrong from the beginning. Maybe her smile wasn't his. Maybe it was never meant to be.
He turned and walked out into the night, the cold air swallowing him whole.