Shen Zhengning said softly, “I’m thinking now, could the situation Ye Tongsheng faced back then have been just like this?”

He wasn’t under Gao Qihui’s direct supervision, yet he had still been so agitated by his recent string of bad luck. As Gao Qihui’s subordinate and the only insider who insisted on staying with the company after the incident, how much pressure had Ye Tongsheng been under, and how long could he have held out?

These past two days, Shen Zhengning kept remembering that day after work when Ye Tongsheng and Gao Qihui stood by the elevator, acting coldly toward him before going down to the B2 underground garage together.

Why hadn't he asked one more question? Even if he was seen as meddling and only got a perfunctory reply, if someone had just asked Ye Tongsheng, might it have made him hesitate for a moment by the water's edge?

Zhuang Mingqi’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He took a deep breath, trying hard to restrain his emotions. “Let’s not worry about whether that President Gao had anything to do with Ye Tongsheng’s death for now. He definitely can’t escape responsibility for the information leak... Let’s report him to the police.”

“There’s no evidence. Let alone a criminal conviction, you wouldn’t even win a labor arbitration case.” Shen Zhengning refuted his proposal with what could be described as cold rationality. “Gao Qihui is the company’s vice president. Of course, he has the right to express his opinion on personnel appointments and dismissals. He can easily argue that he was just considering the company's best interests, without any personal grudges involved, and that my speculations are just a persecution complex stemming from dissatisfaction with the company’s decisions... Even what that resigned engineer said, he could take it back and claim it was just some gossip he made up.”

'So you're just going to watch this matter be swept under the rug, covered by the dust of time, and become an unresolved case?'

'Aren’t you the great detective who seeks the truth?'

For a moment, Zhuang Mingqi really wanted to throw caution to the wind and question Shen Zhengning like this, but he immediately remembered Shen Zhengning had said he didn't like people calling him Sherlock Holmes because it only reminded him of how much he overestimated his own abilities.

At the time, he hadn’t understood why he’d say he “overestimated his abilities,” thinking Shen Zhengning was just being modest. But on this cold and desolate night, he suddenly grasped the helplessness of reality—the truth was right there, in his hands, but it couldn't change the present, nor could it move the world. It was just a heavy stone.

‘Maybe someone needs it?’

People with a conscience hold onto this thought, continuously picking up the stone and carrying it on their long journey through life. But one day, they find they can no longer move forward and have to discard some things to continue, or they are utterly crushed by the weight, becoming a part of the stone pile themselves.

The silence on the phone actually lasted only four short seconds, but the static made it feel as long as an hour.

Zhuang Mingqi spoke with difficulty, “I understand...”

“From the incident until now, they’ve already settled the insiders. Any traces left behind have certainly been cleaned up long ago.” Shen Zhengning didn’t notice his internal turmoil and continued musing, “To catch him, we need to be patient and wait for the snake to peek out of its hole again... This is a highly profitable business for him; he’ll never stop after just one time. Now that all the Information Security Engineers are gone, it’s a god-sent opportunity for him. He will definitely make another move.”

Zhuang Mingqi felt like someone who had been lamenting a cloudy day for ages, only to step outside and find it wasn't raining at all. “You’re going to stay?”

“What else?” Shen Zhengning retorted. “He set me up so badly for no reason. Should I just swallow my anger, take the loss, and leave, letting him comfortably enjoy the fruits of his crime?”

“Although this wreck of a company has changed beyond recognition and isn’t worth staying for, I should at least get my severance pay before I go. Otherwise, I’d be letting them off way too easily.”

The soft-hearted Zhuang Mingqi was stunned by his ruthless words. He clapped like an excited seal with awe, and said obediently and gently, “I’ll be back tomorrow. You have to be careful. Who knows what someone like that would do if he gets desperate.”

“Got it. Send me your flight information, I’ll pick you up.” Shen Zhengning sent the Samoyed, who had had enough running around, back home. “Is everything at home taken care of?”

“Yeah.” The soft sound of a mattress compressing came from the other side. Zhuang Mingqi lay down on his back, his arm shielding his eyes from the light. “The surgery went smoothly. There’s nothing for me to do anymore.”

Even through the slightly blurry screen, it was clear that Zhuang Mingqi didn't look well. Shen Zhengning suspected this trip had triggered some of his stress symptoms again, but any words over the phone would be pale comfort. He held Silver up to the camera to wave goodbye. “Just one more day. When you come back, Doctor Ye will give you a massage, and you’ll be able to sleep soundly.”

Zhuang Mingqi rolled over, buried his head in the pillow, and laughed for a long while before saying, “Okay.”

A person might not die from not sleeping for three consecutive days, but staying up late is the mortal enemy of beauty. No matter how handsome someone is, they can't withstand such abuse. When Zhuang Mingqi came out of the airport terminal, the dark circles under his eyes almost reached the floor. He floated into the car like a wandering soul, picked up Silver and started kneading him haphazardly, and fell asleep hugging the Samoyed before they even left the airport area.

If Shen Zhengning weren't awake himself, he would have suspected his car's air freshener had been replaced with sleeping pills.

The car stopped in front of the house, and Zhuang Mingqi woke up in a daze, fumbling for the door handle for a full half-minute. Seeing his swaying figure, like a waving inflatable tube man, Shen Zhengning was afraid he would face-plant into the small garden. He had no choice but to park the car in the courtyard, carrying the suitcase in his left hand and the Samoyed in his right, like a diligent little assistant, and respectfully escorted Young Master Zhuang into the house.

Zhuang Mingqi flopped face-down onto the sofa with a “thump.” Shen Zhengning set down the suitcase and walked over, clicking his tongue. “If you want to sleep, go to the bedroom and sleep properly on the bed. Be careful you don't get a stiff neck.”

“Are you leaving?” Zhuang Mingqi tilted his head slightly, his eyes half-open, peeking at him through the gaps in his messy hair.

“What’s wrong?” Shen Zhengning asked. “Is there something else?”

“@#￥%&*......”

Zhuang Mingqi muttered a string of incomprehensible gibberish, clearly beyond the scope of human translation. Shen Zhengning became even more confused. “Are you sleepwalking? Since you’re not awake yet, I won’t disturb you. Go on and sleep.”

“Can you...”

Shen Zhengning: “Huh?”

Zhuang Mingqi made a small, quiet, almost dream-like request, “Wait until I fall asleep before you go...”

The sun was bright at two in the afternoon, shining through the French windows onto the marble floor, which shimmered like the surface of a pond. Zhuang Mingqi’s words were no less than pouring an excessive amount of flour into this pond, turning it into a thick paste from which no one could escape.

Shen Zhengning was silent for a full ten seconds before he slowly said, “So I’m the sleeping pill.”

Zhuang Mingqi: “?”

“Got it,” Shen Zhengning said, annoyed. “Go to sleep.”

The translucent gauze curtains were drawn in front of the French windows, but the sunlight could still pour in, adding a touch of warmth to the overly spacious living room. A sofa was far less comfortable to sleep on than a bed, but Zhuang Mingqi was being stubborn and didn't want to go to his bedroom. He built himself a little nest with a pillow and a thin blanket Shen Zhengning had tossed over, and fell asleep curled up just like that.

He was a light sleeper. Halfway through his nap, he felt the sofa dip slightly. Silver had jumped up and was now sleeping in his arms. There were occasional soft sounds in the living room, the restrained noises of another person. He knew then that Shen Zhengning hadn't left. That gentle and steady presence enveloped the living room like a protective barrier, allowing him to drift in and out of a shallow, hazy sleep, feeling a sense of tranquility.

When he woke up, it was already dark. The living room was filled with only the vague shadows cast by the courtyard lights. The dining room light was on, and the very overpowering aroma of stewed meat, accompanied by a faint "slurping" sound, wafted into the living room.

Zhuang Mingqi sat up in a daze, taking a minute to come to his senses. Then, with messy hair and clothes full of creases, he slowly shuffled toward the kitchen. His hesitant steps were like The Little Match Girl striking a beautiful dream, full of joyful anticipation, yet afraid of shattering it by accident.

The closer he got to the dining room, the more distinct the “slurping” sound became. Zhuang Mingqi leaned against the doorframe and followed the sound with his eyes. In front of Silver was half a bowl of lavish dog food—or rather, it was overly lavish. Just a glance revealed meat, eggs, grains, potatoes, fruits, fresh vegetables, and some unknown animal organs. The dog in question had half its face buried happily in the bowl, eating so heartily he was snorting like a pig.

A weight of twenty kilograms was actually on the thin side for a Samoyed of his age. Zhuang Mingqi had always thought Silver was a picky eater like him, but at this moment, he suddenly realized the dog was so thin simply because he was hungry—the child just hadn’t been given food he liked!

Shen Zhengning had just finished the final touches. He casually untied his apron, rolled down his sleeves, and caught sight of him in the doorway out of the corner of his eye. “Finally awake?”

Zhuang Mingqi felt as if Shen Zhengning’s back was sparkling with the kind of star and rainbow effects you only see in manga, and he himself was as slow as a sloth from a manga. “You... can cook...?”

“What’s so strange about that,” Shen Zhengning said. “I don’t live on photosynthesis.”

He bent down to check on Silver’s eating progress, his expression a mix of satisfaction and precision, like a biologist observing his petri dish. Then he straightened up and ordered in a light tone, “Go wash your hands. Get some chopsticks and come eat.”

Zhuang Mingqi sat dazedly in the light, his eyes slightly watering from the steam rising from the bowl. He held the new, smooth spoon as if he were learning to use a tool for the first time, and tasted the clear, savory beef broth as cautiously as if he were testing for poison. When he looked up again, his gaze could only be described as reverent.

Shen Zhengning’s strict upbringing included the rule to “eat without talking, sleep without speaking.” He wasn’t particularly moved by Zhuang Mingqi’s suddenly watery, puppy-dog eyes. He just said faintly, “What are you looking at me for? Don’t use me to season your food.”

The noodles were perfectly soft and of just the right thickness, soaked in the savory flavor of the beef broth without making the soup cloudy. The sliced, clear-stewed beef had beautiful fat marbling, and the green vegetables and a perfectly shaped poached egg nestled on the side of the bowl. From both the taste and the presentation, one could feel that person's consistent patience and gentleness.

This bowl of noodles didn't remind him of "the taste of his father's or mother's cooking." His parents never had the spare time to cook noodles for him. He finally realized that Shen Zhengning didn't reflect the image of any person or family. He was attracted, became dependent, and longed for closeness simply because Shen Zhengning was Shen Zhengning. Such a unique person had never appeared in his life, so the more he tried to understand, the deeper he fell, unable to stop himself.

Zhuang Mingqi suddenly had a strong urge to touch him, even if it was just a fingertip. He wanted to know what the person “Shen Zhengning” felt like.

But he was also aware of his chronic ailment. For this momentary impulse, he might waste today's dinner.

In the end, all he could do when Shen Zhengning was leaving was to grab Silver and follow closely behind him. “I’ll walk you out... and walk the dog at the same time.”

Studies suggest that repeating an action for 21 days can form a habit, but no study said that Zhuang Mingqi would develop the habit of sticking close after being away for just three days.

His morning dog-walking route began to overlap with Shen Zhengning’s commute. In the evenings, if he had nothing to do, he would drag Shen Zhengning down to walk the dog with him. If Shen Zhengning worked overtime, he would be the last one to confirm he had gotten home. The memory usage of their WeChat chats skyrocketed. Shen Zhengning complained that his habit was like building an alibi. Zhuang Mingqi thought about it and said sincerely, "Then you should call the police and arrest me."

Shen Zhengning ordered him to use his phone less in the future.

“Has playing on your phone made your memory decline a bit? I remember saying last night that there was a team dinner today, right?” Shen Zhengning stood relaxed in the hotel corridor with one hand in his pocket. Though his words were blunt, his expression as he looked at his phone was quite gentle. He was the kind of handsome man that passersby would have to take a second look at, or they'd feel like they missed out.

It was quiet on Zhuang Mingqi's end, as if he were in his study. “Did you drink? Are you driving?”

“You have to drink a little at these kinds of gatherings, can't be avoided.” Shen Zhengning was about thirty percent drunk and let out a low chuckle. “Didn’t drive. What’s up, are you coming to pick me up?”

This was exactly what Zhuang Mingqi wanted. He said cheerfully, “Sure, send me the address. I’ll come get you. Call me when you’re done.”

“Just kidding. I don’t know when it’ll end, it might be very late,” Shen Zhengning said. “Don’t bother. I’ll just take a taxi home. I’ll let you know when I get there.”

“Cut the crap, send the address,” Zhuang Mingqi said decisively. “Drink less. Since you’re going to make a clean break sooner or later, don’t raise one glass to tomorrow and another to the past.”

Shen Zhengning drew out his words, “Yesss—got it—”

He put away his phone, pushed open the door of the private room, and returned to his seat. The discussion in the room instantly quieted. Before Shen Zhengning could say anything, someone, seeing how awkward the situation was, laughed and asked jokingly, “You were out for so long. Was your girlfriend calling to check on you?”

Shen Zhengning pulled out his chair and sat down, calmly denying it. “What girlfriend? Just a regular... uh, good-for-nothing friend.”

For reasons known to all, this meal was superficially amicable but roiled with undercurrents. Everyone from the leadership to the employees was reserved. The effect of the team-building event was to further deepen the divisions within the team, and it ended quickly in a lukewarm atmosphere.

The director and the newly appointed deputy director arranged for a car to take Xu Yongjing home. Shen Zhengning stood at the hotel entrance, bidding farewell to his colleagues, while idly wondering what scheme Zhuang Mingqi was up to this time.

Suddenly, two horn honks sounded from ahead. A glossy, all-black Mercedes SUV, draped in the hazy glow of neon lights, drove onto the hotel’s outer access road and slowly stopped at the entrance with its hazard lights flashing. A big, fluffy white furball poked its head out curiously from the half-open rear window and barked loudly at the crowd a couple of times.

Everyone was startled by the barking and looked in unison at Silver, whose winter coat had fluffed up like a dandelion... and at the iconic three-pointed star logo next to his head.