Chapter 25
Xie Zhang didn’t go for his morning run the next day either.
Mainly because, looking in the mirror, he saw the prominent dark circles under his eyes.
Song Jingmo, having spent the night introducing Xie Zhang to a new world of experiences, was blissfully unaware of the impact, while Xie Zhang was still reeling from the revelations.
Plus, a normal, living male would naturally react to such… stimuli, but his lover was a cold, smooth, inky black shadow…
Xie Zhang closed his eyes, not wanting to relive the night’s events.
Meanwhile, the instigator was examining his face, holding his chin with a shadow tendril.
The large shadow hung on the dressing room mirror, scrutinizing Xie Zhang, two peeled boiled eggs clutched in its tendrils, rolling them over his dark circles.
Xie Zhang looked at the eggs, then realized why the shadow had been so unusually quiet in the bathroom earlier.
It had been busy boiling eggs downstairs.
Despite Song Jingmo’s efforts, the dark circles remained stubbornly prominent.
A shadow tendril tugged on Xie Zhang’s earlobe, then gently massaged his cheek.
Xie Zhang’s recent tan had faded after he’d adjusted to the daily sunbathing, his skin returning to its usual pale tone.
And pale skin had one major drawback: any blemish, any dark circle, was immediately noticeable.
Fortunately, it was the weekend, and there was no work, so they could stay home.
The cool, smooth touch on his face was soothing, and Xie Zhang couldn’t help but cup the plump shadow in his hand.
It was surprisingly soft and squishy, like jelly, with a pleasant bounce.
He thought to himself.
After a while, Song Jingmo, having deemed the egg treatment ineffective, placed the eggs on Xie Zhang’s arm and sat down, giving up.
Xie Zhang understood; he’d lost patience.
He carried Song-shadow downstairs, placing the eggs back in the kitchen.
Song Jingmo, still clinging to him, stared at the eggs for a moment, then poked Xie Zhang with a shadow tendril.
Xie Zhang: “Hm?”
Song Jingmo grabbed his phone and typed: 【Let’s get a pet! A cat or a dog!】
Xie Zhang paused.
Song Jingmo loved animals; his fascination with the bird during their morning run was proof enough.
But unfortunately, he was not only disliked by cats and dogs, but he was also slightly allergic to their fur.
So neither his family home nor the villa he shared with Xie Zhang had ever housed any pets.
【I’m definitely not allergic now, so let’s get one!】
【A pet would bring some… life… into the house.】
Xie Zhang, who rarely refused Song Jingmo anything, hesitated.
Song Jingmo pinched his face with a shadow tendril, preventing him from avoiding the question.
Xie Zhang, who never lied to Song Jingmo, finally answered: “Momo, I might not be able to take care of it properly.”
Song Jingmo pointed at himself.
Xie Zhang’s lips tightened, and he remained silent.
Song Jingmo understood.
Xie Zhang seemed normal, his emotions stable, he was smiling, eating well, but his underlying pessimism remained.
He didn’t want to form new attachments, uncertain of how long Song Jingmo would stay, how long he could hold on.
To Xie Zhang, every relationship was a responsibility, and until he was certain he could handle it, he wouldn’t commit.
Having always been the one left behind, he didn’t want to be the one doing the leaving.
This Xie Zhang seemed weak, avoidant, even apprehensive as he observed Song-shadow.
But Song Jingmo didn’t see the collapse of his strong, capable lover; he only felt heartache and regret.
Heartache for Xie Zhang’s hidden vulnerability, and regret for not breaking through his armor sooner, for not truly embracing his sensitive soul.
He formed a shadow cat, which gracefully leaped onto Xie Zhang’s head and sat down.
Xie Zhang: “?”
The larger shadow flowed down Xie Zhang’s arm, leaving only the chibi shadow standing on his hand, reaching up to kiss his chin.
It’s okay if we don’t get a pet. Your Song-shadow will give you all the love.
You’ll experience all the joys of pet ownership.
Xie Zhang’s eye twitched, a sense of foreboding washing over him.
“Wait…”
Before he could finish, the shadow cat parkoured onto the crystal chandelier, sending it swaying and clinking.
“No…”
Song Jingmo, perched on his arm, swung his legs, his eyes, if Xie Zhang could see them, sparkling with mischief.
Xie Zhang pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on.
…
That afternoon, they were sunbathing in the solarium.
Xie Zhang lay in Song Jingmo’s favorite rocking chair, surrounded by soft pillows, his hair spread across the white cashmere cushion, his complexion healthy.
The chibi shadow lay in his arms, his head resting on Xie Zhang’s stomach, his legs nestled in Xie Zhang’s cupped hands.
A shadow cat paced leisurely across the sun-drenched floor.
A sudden buzz disrupted the peaceful scene.
Xie Zhang opened his eyes, his gaze clearing.
Song Jingmo, who hadn’t been asleep, stretched languidly.
While most people’s minds emptied during sunbathing, Xie Zhang’s thoughts were always filled with him, making Song Jingmo’s entire shadow feel warm and fuzzy.
A shadow tendril prevented Xie Zhang from getting up, while the shadow cat retrieved his phone from the table and placed it in his hand.
Seeing Xie Zhang squinting at the screen, Song Jingmo suddenly remembered something.
He’d been in a car accident, his violin was with Xie Zhang, so… where was his phone?
With his parents?
Surely not with his brother…
Well, it didn’t matter.
Song-shadow scratched his head.
His phone was clean, his image as a well-behaved young master intact.
“Momo.”
Song-shadow turned, a black question mark appearing above his head.
Xie Zhang turned the phone screen towards him.
“Your brother wants to visit this afternoon.”
Song Jingmo stared at the message, then a spark of excitement lit up his shadowy form.
Heh heh!
Xie Zhang’s reaction to seeing his shadow come to life hadn’t been one of fear or disbelief; he had been the one startled.
So—!
The chibi shadow rubbed his hands together, giggling.
His brother was a staunch materialist!
The kind who scoffed at psychics, fortune tellers, and monks!
Imagining his usually calm and collected brother’s reaction to witnessing a ghost, Song Jingmo’s mind raced with possibilities.
Xie Zhang, anticipating this, sighed and rubbed his temples.
After days of experimentation, he’d discovered he couldn’t hear everything Song Jingmo said.
It seemed he could only hear him when his emotions were heightened, when he was particularly happy or excited.
And, of course, the occasional humming and violin playing.
Song Jingmo grabbed Xie Zhang’s phone, replied to his brother, and then dragged Xie Zhang towards the dressing room to change.
…
Song Chengyan was at the airport, waiting for his flight.
If it weren’t for a problem with a contract, he would have visited Xie Zhang days ago.
His secretary had informed him that Xie Zhang had returned to work, seemingly in good spirits.
Hearing this, Song Chengyan felt a pang of… something.
He didn’t want to see a broken, devastated Xie Zhang, but he also didn’t want to see him acting like nothing had happened.
It wasn’t a noble or generous thought, even selfish, but he wasn’t a saint; he couldn’t control his resentment towards Xie Zhang.
Now, looking at Xie Zhang’s reply, he frowned.
Calling him “bro” was one thing, but the added “~” at the end seemed… odd.
His eyes narrowed.
Could there be something genuinely wrong with him?
No, he had to see for himself.
If there was a problem, the sooner they intervened, the better.
He replied to Xie Zhang’s offer to pick him up with a simple “Okay, thanks,” determined to assess the situation personally.
…
Song Jingmo hadn’t seen his brother in a while. Perhaps he could ask about his parents.
He’d considered asking Xie Zhang to visit the Song family, but he couldn’t stray too far from him.
Xie Zhang’s emotional instability was one concern, but also, Song Jingmo had always been the mediator between his family and Xie Zhang, trying to bridge the gap between them, so he understood the underlying tension.
And since his accident had happened on the way back to the villa, he was worried his family might blame Xie Zhang, so he’d been hesitant to suggest a visit, wanting to wait until Xie Zhang was in a better state.
Meeting his brother first seemed like the best approach.
So, as Xie Zhang drove to the airport, Song Jingmo was buzzing with anticipation.
Spotting his brother’s imposing figure from afar, he extended a shadow tendril, tugging on Xie Zhang’s trousers, pointing.
Xie Zhang nodded, walking towards him.
The two CEOs greeted each other with a polite handshake, then fell silent.
Song Jingmo, within the shadow, looked from one to the other, thinking that perhaps he wasn’t CEO material because he lacked this… statue-like composure.
Song Chengyan, noticing Xie Zhang had driven himself, paused before opening the passenger side door.
He usually sat in the back, but doing so now would be like treating Xie Zhang as a chauffeur.
It would be disrespectful.
Xie Zhang, glancing at the restless shadow eager to make its presence known, opened the back door for him.
“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in the back, Mr. Song?”
Song Chengyan raised an eyebrow: “Are you sure?”
Xie Zhang, sincerely: “Yes, it’s safer in the back.”
Song Chengyan got into the car.
As soon as he sat down, he felt something was amiss, but he couldn’t pinpoint it.
Even after Xie Zhang got into the driver’s seat, and he’d examined the car’s interior, he couldn’t figure out what it was.
They drove in silence.
Xie Zhang focused on the road, while Song Chengyan mentally prepared his questions.
Meanwhile, Song Jingmo, emerging from beneath the driver’s seat, stealthily crawled onto his brother’s suit pants.
The chibi shadow perched on his knee, his featureless face tilted upwards, waving.
Mischievous but still caring, he added a tiny heart, just to soften the blow.
Song Chengyan, witnessing this, froze, his body stiffening.
—What… the hell?!
