A gentle breeze brushed through the tree shadows, sunlight leaped onto the window sill, the curtains swayed, and sweet-scented pheromones filled the entire ward.
It was too quiet.
So quiet that the swaying green leaves outside the window rustled past his ears like tinkling wind chimes.
Yu Xi and Yi Chen kissed for a long time.
It wasn’t until Yi Chen’s hand rested on the waistband of Yu Xi’s pants, about to slide downward, that Yu Xi snapped back to his senses in a daze.
This was the hospital!
Even though it was a single-occupancy ward, the door wasn’t locked!!
Someone could walk in at any moment!
If they were seen…
“No one will come in.” Without Yu Xi needing to say a word, Yi Chen already knew what was on his mind. He gently stroked Yu Xi’s back, soothing him.
Outside the ward, Xiao Chen and Guan Zifan stood guard on either side, blocking anyone who tried to visit Yu Xi.
Some things didn’t bother him until he thought of them, but once they crossed his mind, Yu Xi felt embarrassed all over. His cheeks flushed slightly, his ears turned red, and even his movements grew stiff.
Yi Chen found it amusing. He teased Yu Xi with more kisses for a good while before finally letting go. He leaned against the edge of the bed and pulled Yu Xi into a side embrace.
After a long moment, Guan Zifan knocked on the ward door. “Yu Wan is here.”
Yu Wan.
The moment he heard that name, Yi Chen’s expression turned serious in an instant. He positioned himself to shield Yu Xi and stood up, ready to block her at the door.
“Don’t go out,” Yu Xi said. “She’s definitely not alone.”
Just as the words left his mouth, a message from Guan Zifan arrived.
[Guan Zifan: She brought a photographer. He’s not following closely—hiding pretty far. Be careful not to get caught on camera.]
It wasn’t something to say out loud; a message was safer.
Yu Xi lowered his gaze, his expression neither joyful nor sorrowful.
He didn’t want to bring up the past, nor did he want to dwell on it.
After his emotions had crumbled and been rebuilt, now he had to face it.
Yu Wan was the same as ever—she had never changed.
But he had.
Yu Xi took a deep breath and looked at Yi Chen.
“I can’t forgive her,” Yu Xi said.
“Mm, I know.” Yi Chen wasn’t surprised in the slightest.
“And I don’t want to become her blood bag.”
“Got it.” Yi Chen understood completely. He held Yu Xi close and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.
Yu Xi said nothing more.
Guan Zifan couldn’t stall Yu Wan for long. Before much time had passed, someone knocked on the ward door, and Yu Wan’s voice drifted in. “Xiao Xi, I heard you were hospitalized. Are you okay?”
Yu Wan entered the ward and approached the bed where Yu Xi lay, her face full of concern. “It’s my fault. I came back without a word and showed up out of nowhere, giving you such a fright.”
She didn’t close the door behind her. Around the corner in the corridor, a man with a camera had his lens trained on the ward.
The man kept his distance, but his professional equipment effortlessly bridged the gap.
Everything inside the ward was laid bare in his viewfinder.
Yu Xi’s smile was perfectly polite and courteous, his expression warm with a hint of guilt mixed in.
Truth be told, Yu Wan had imagined countless scenarios for their reunion in the ward. She had expected Yu Xi to treat her even worse than he had during the live stream—to chase her out.
She knew her son well and understood exactly what he was capable of when his emotions ran high.
That was why she had brought people along: to document it all, every moment and scene.
But Yu Wan was caught off guard, slightly stunned. She hadn’t anticipated that Yu Xi could be so mild-mannered now.
—At least, his expression was mild.
His words and tone, however, carried little emotion. They were cold.
“I really didn’t expect you to come back.”
Yu Wan spoke with guilt lacing her voice. “I hope we can mend our relationship.”
“I’ve always regretted it. I was too extreme back then.” She looked at Yu Xi sincerely. “I want a chance to talk things through properly with you, to really communicate.”
She leaned in closer, reaching out for a hug.
Yu Wan had assumed he would push her away, but instead, Yu Xi cooperated fully. He opened his arms and gave her a gentle embrace—a polite one that perfectly captured the emotion of a long-lost mother and son reuniting.
“Is this angle good? Warm enough?” Yu Xi whispered in her ear.
Yu Wan’s body gradually stiffened. “What are you talking about?”
Yu Wan hadn’t changed.
Yu Xi knew her all too well.
She always showed her best, most perfect side to the outside world.
In the past, every time Yu Wan had been gentle with him or spoken softly, it was only when she held her phone or camera aloft, eager to capture the moment.
It was the same now.
Lenses would record everything she did in this ward.
Yu Xi was an excellent actor.
He could nail the emotions precisely on camera, and off camera too.
Especially now that his own emotions had settled.
Yu Xi hugged Yu Wan like a joyful, eager child who had waited so long for his mother. “I’m sorry. I got a little too worked up during the live stream.”
“Welcome back, Mom.”
–
While Yu Wan was at the hospital, Liang Shuo remained alone at home.
He still couldn’t accept that Yu Wan was Yu Xi’s mother.
Not because of the “mother” title itself, but because of the things she had done as one.
Why?
His teacher had always been so warm and gentle toward him, so understanding. She had guided him through countless hardships and setbacks. How could she become a mother who harbored resentment toward her own child?
Liang Shuo wasn’t incapable of accepting imperfections—nobody was perfect, and everyone had their flaws.
He was just… sad.
The pedestal on which he had placed Yu Wan—the radiant aura surrounding her—seemed to crack and crumble bit by bit amid her conversation with Yi Chen.
In Liang Shuo’s eyes—and in everyone else’s—Yu Wan was forever beautiful and dazzling, forever confident. She ran her own internet account, chronicling her life every day. She edited clips of her daily routines with her child and posted them online. Her every day appeared simple and blissful.
Even during the dark days that had plagued Yu Xi, Yu Wan’s vlogs brimmed with sunshine.
Liang Shuo lowered his gaze.
Before him lay a diary.
Yu Wan had returned not long ago, right before the live stream of Where to Go This Weekend‘s fifth episode. These past few days, she had been staying temporarily at Liang Shuo’s home, and her diary had come with her.
“The emotions written on paper are always the most authentic.”
That was what Yu Wan had told him when he once asked why she bothered writing a diary if she was already filming videos every day.
So.
The Yu Wan in that diary was the real one.
Liang Shuo stared at the battered diary, its pages worn from constant use, and hesitated.
So, was he really going to pry into his teacher’s true self?
Back at the hospital, Yu Wan closed the ward door and approached the photographer lurking around the corner. “Did you get it all recorded for me?”
Yu Wan had always been the type to “document her life.”
Her gentleness, her warmth, her brilliance—they weren’t just for her own eyes. She couldn’t bear to keep them to herself.
At the same moment, Liang Shuo drew a deep breath, reached out, and flipped open the diary.
Yu Wan’s handwriting was elegant and lovely, making every entry a pleasure to read.
“I want everyone’s eyes on me.”
—That was what she had written on the first page.
