And Yu Jin noticed the subtle shift too.
He spotted it the moment he walked in. Yun Qi had been slated to arrive the day after tomorrow, but that dinner had worked like a charm, prying him loose in record time. Seeing Yun Qi in the training room, headset on and laser-focused on practice, Yu Jin let the initial lack of acknowledgment slide. But two minutes later, when their eyes met by chance, Yun Qi whipped his head away and jammed the headset back on.
Yu Jin knew right then: something was eating at him.
Still, Yu Jin didn’t interrupt. He made a quick lap around the training room and left.
If anything, the two of them were pretending to be strangers harder than ever.
When training wrapped up that day, the substitute he’d queued with had taken a real liking to Yun Qi. They’d exchanged contacts on day one and walked out of the training room laughing and talking.
Yun Qi felt a quiet satisfaction with how smoothly things had gone.
But at the door, his chest tightened.
Yu Jin was squatting there, one hand gripping the cat by the scruff of its neck, the other spinning his phone—blocking the way in broad daylight.
Not blocking it exactly; there was plenty of room to slip past.
And Yun Qi did just that. But as he went by, the voice behind him rang out. “You’re here now. So why haven’t you moved your stuff?”
Yun Qi straightened his spine at the words, trying to look more in the right. “I already cleared it with the higher-ups. They said a couple days is fine.”
“Who’s this ‘higher-up’ of yours?” Yu Jin rose to his feet, scooping up the cat too. His voice drifted over from behind Yun Qi—casual, but laced with menace. “I’ve got your contract. And the say over which esports team you end up on. You claim you talked to the higher-ups? Mind telling me exactly who?”
Yun Qi turned back around and was startled by the figure in the dim light. He hadn’t expected Yu Jin to be standing so close—his cheek nearly bumped right into him. He quickly stepped back to steady himself, then looked up at Yu Jin. A shadow of displeasure lurked in Yu Jin’s eyes, dark and brooding, and under the dim light, the emotions on that face were even harder to discern.
“Is there any difference between me moving in today and moving in tomorrow?” Yun Qi pushed back against his intimidating presence and said, “Are you trying to pick on me again?”
Yu Jin carefully savored his choice of words: “Again?”
Yun Qi lowered his eyelashes.
It dawned on Yu Jin belatedly: “Oh, so this attitude today is because of that dinner party the other day? You’re still mad at me? What’s the point of holding a grudge against someone who was drunk? That day, I…”
“I’ve already forgotten about it,” Yun Qi interrupted him. “And what kind of ‘attitude’ are you talking about? I don’t have any attitude.”
Yu Jin fell silent. After a moment, he gently lifted Yun Qi’s chin. The cat glared at him with its round, bulging eyes, locking onto that exquisite face along with its owner. Yu Jin said, “A little while ago, you were all eager to get close to me, acting like you couldn’t wait to hang out. But today, you won’t even acknowledge me—you ignore me in front of others, and now behind closed doors, you want to brush me off and pretend I don’t exist so you can just walk away. Is that how you act around the boss at SK too?”
He had seen right through it.
The ploy he’d pulled earlier—playing mind games to keep him there and make him go to the hospital with him—had been full of holes. Yun Qi had been wondering all along if the other man would see through it, and now…
Yun Qi felt a wave of shame wash over him.
Then he heard Yu Jin’s words again, and his mind suddenly went into chaos.
“How many times do you have to emphasize that you’re my buyer?” Yun Qi’s voice suddenly turned cold. “I know it was you who gave me this opportunity, you who bought me, you who pulled me out of the fire. I’m eternally grateful to you, E God. I’ll never forget your great kindness for the rest of my life. Is that enough?”
He’d always thought his temper was pretty even-keeled, but Yu Jin kept bringing up their relationship like he was reminding him they would forever be locked in a transactional dynamic, a mere business partnership. And now, with Yu Jin calling out his little scheme, Yun Qi couldn’t contain his embarrassment—his tone sharpened in a way it never had before when speaking to him.
But he’d clearly picked the wrong target for his outburst.
Yu Jin abruptly flung the cat from his hand.
“Meow!” The cat landed nimbly on its feet, but Yu Jin’s motion was downright brutal. Yun Qi’s heart jolted, and he instinctively moved to catch it—only for Yu Jin to clamp down on his wrist with pinpoint precision.
Yun Qi looked up at him and saw a storm brewing in Yu Jin’s eyes.
“You’re the one who cozied up to me, and you’re the one ignoring me now. One day you’re one way, the next you’re another—one mood today, another tomorrow. Am I some plaything you tease when you need me and kick aside when you don’t? Is that it?” Yu Jin’s grip tightened, and Yun Qi felt guilty under his words. After his tantrum, he didn’t dare look up. Yu Jin held him in place, his strength especially forceful.
Those words dragged Yun Qi’s thoughts back to that night three years ago when he’d suggested breaking up. Yu Jin had demanded a reason, but he couldn’t give one, and Yu Jin had grilled him while holding him tight.
“Didn’t you want to create distance between us? Then commit to the act all the way. Why bother with that beast? If you don’t care about me, don’t care about it either—after all, it’s something I raised. If you’re tossing me aside, toss it too. That would actually be smart.” Yu Jin’s expression darkened. He wasn’t yelling, but that steady voice pierced straight to the heart, flaying Yun Qi raw.
Yun Qi watched the cat scamper to the side and hide behind a potted plant, only its fluffy, anxious tail peeking out—pitiful and forlorn.
He looked up at Yu Jin, facing his emotions head-on. Yun Qi thought back to three years ago when he’d dumped the cat on him—those eyes had been full of disappointment and grievance. What right did he have now to lose his temper at Yu Jin? Yu Jin was right; he was inconsistent, swayed by a few words, leaving the man out in the cold just to keep an escape route for himself, playing at willful ignorance.
Yuanwei was different from him—not a fair comparison.
Yu Jin had been dumped back then, yet three years later, when Yun Qi had nowhere else to turn, he’d still reached out a hand. But now, Yun Qi was hanging him out to dry over something that hadn’t even happened—what logic was that?
Their relationship now could indeed be described as boss and employee. Had Yu Jin said anything wrong? What gave him the right to snap at him?
He was the one who wanted to get close, and he was the one pulling away. Yu Jin was human, with feelings and warmth—such hot-and-cold treatment would strain any relationship.
In that moment, Yu Jin’s harshness jolted him awake.
Yun Qi realized he’d been too eager to distance himself, that his retorts had been immature and unjustified. His tone immediately softened: “I’m sorry.”
He felt the grip on his wrist loosen.
Yun Qi explained in a low voice, “That’s not what I meant just now. Don’t hold it against me. I was just afraid others would notice…”
“Weren’t you afraid before?” Yu Jin’s gaze held a shrewd glint that made Yun Qi panic just looking at it.
“Before, we were at least separated by some distance, but now we’re too close…”
“You don’t want to be that close to me?”
“I do.” Yun Qi blurted it out, just like Yu Jin’s earlier remark, “When have I ever been unwilling?” It came straight from his subconscious, outpacing any rational thought.
The moment the words left his mouth, Yun Qi sensed something was off. But spoken words were like spilled water—what could he do now? There was no taking them back, no covering his mouth. He shot a quick glance at Yu Jin and saw the other’s expression soften, as if that single syllable had instantly dissolved the tension hanging between them.
To cover his embarrassment, Yun Qi tugged his wrist free. With the words already out, he could only distract himself with something else. Yu Jin watched as he hurried to the side and scooped the cat out from behind the potted plant, cradling it in his arms.
Yun Qi glanced around, then inched his way back, his palm stroking the cat’s body in a soothing rhythm. When he returned to stand before Yu Jin, the cat—still badly startled—burrowed deeper into his embrace. Yun Qi lifted his gaze, shooting Yu Jin a reproachful look. “Can’t you stop being so intimidating?”
A soft, mosquito-like mew rose from the cat in his arms. Yun Qi’s heart ached even more, and he kept rubbing its head.
Yu Jin’s eyes remained fixed, unblinking, on those fluttering lashes and that pale cheek—his attention nowhere near the cat. Thoughtfully, he murmured, “It has a bad temper.”
“But it didn’t attack you,” Yun Qi said tenderly. “Why take your frustration out on it?”
Yu Jin offered no explanation.
Yun Qi cooed and fussed over the cat for a good while before it finally peeked its head out. He pressed his cheek to its warm fur. The air felt stuffy today, and after a moment’s hesitation, Yun Qi voiced his question. “Can it sleep with me tonight?”
Yu Jin didn’t reply right away.
Thinking him unwilling, Yun Qi hurried to reassure him. “I’ll take good care of it. Just one night—tomorrow I’ll…”
“Move in.” Yu Jin cut him off abruptly.
Yun Qi froze for a beat. He caught the uncompromising resolve in Yu Jin’s eyes and decided not to push further. Meekly, he said, “Okay. Tomorrow.”
In a most untimely shift, Yu Jin asked, “Liu Ying said you didn’t eat lunch here?”
The topic leaped without warning, but Yun Qi had no desire to dwell on it just then. Like the kitten in his arms, he simply answered obediently. “Yeah, Master didn’t get the message, so there was no food prepared for me. But I ate when I got back.”
Yu Jin said, “I told them the day before yesterday. Master knows you’re coming over, just not that it’d be early. Lu Rong mentioned the day after tomorrow—did they suddenly change the schedule?”
“Maybe they wanted me to get used to it ahead of time.” Yun Qi’s voice was soft. The air between them felt fragile, especially after their little spat moments ago. Feeling unsteady on his feet, Yun Qi added, “Um… mind if I take Tata back with me?”
Yu Jin said nothing.
But Yun Qi knew that meant yes.
A moment later, he hugged the cat close and turned to leave.
Yu Jin watched him go.
That slender back hadn’t changed much over the years. It overlapped in his mind with the figure that had fled without a backward glance three years prior—except now, the steps were slower.
What had he said?
I’m taking Tata back?
He was willing to take it back now? Those words—“Here, take it. I don’t want you or it anymore”—still echoed vividly.
Three years?
So much time had slipped by.
The figure a few steps away halted abruptly. Yun Qi had remembered something he’d overlooked. He turned and shuffled back. Yu Jin was still rooted to the spot. Sheepish after his earlier brainless outburst, Yun Qi kept his eyes downcast and mumbled, barely audible, “…Can I have a bag of cat food?”
