Chapter 6: Probing

Jiang Zhi tossed and turned in bed several times, unable to shake an inexplicable sense of restlessness. The mattress creaked rhythmically beneath him, so he simply gave up, staring at the ceiling for a while before deciding to get up and pace around, hoping it might help him drift off to sleep.

A small lamp was lit in the living room—a secondhand item Duan Sinan had picked up online, claiming it was convenient for late-night trips.

Jiang Zhi had initially dismissed it, saying their rented apartment was small enough to see from one end to the other without needing such an unnecessary expense. Duan Sinan had only smiled without arguing, plugging the lamp in anyway.

Now, the lamp was glowing, casting a dim, warm light over Duan Sinan.

He was sitting on the sofa, holding a cup of tea. His fingers traced the rim of the cup repeatedly. His back was held perfectly straight, yet he looked utterly listless. He wasn't looking at his phone; he just sat there, motionless, sipping his tea from time to time.

Jiang Zhi stood at the doorway of the bedroom, watching him.

"Awake?" Duan Sinan turned his head, his tone flat and indifferent.

Jiang Zhi looked at him without answering, walking over to sit beside him. The sofa sank, and Duan Sinan’s body swayed slightly before stabilizing again.

The lighting was dim, making it hard to read his expression, but Jiang Zhi felt that something was off. He pursed his lips, his brows furrowed slightly. The hand holding the tea cup had its fingers curled tightly, the knuckles turning white from the tension.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Can't sleep, just having some tea," Duan Sinan replied.

His voice was calm, but Jiang Zhi noticed his eyelids were drooping.

He studied Duan Sinan’s face under the dim light. His complexion didn't look right—not exactly sick, but there was an unmistakable sense of something being wrong.

Duan Sinan turned to look at him, his eyes bright, but for a fleeting moment, the light in them dimmed. It passed in a flash, and Duan Sinan reverted to his usual self.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

Duan Sinan paused. "Nothing," he said.

"If nothing's wrong, why are you drinking tea in the middle of the night?" Jiang Zhi pressed.

"Mm, I'm used to it."

Jiang Zhi waited for a while before standing up. "Suit yourself," he said, heading back toward the bedroom.

He paused at the door without turning back. "Get some sleep early."

He pushed the door open, entered, and climbed back into bed, closing his eyes.

A long time passed, and he heard no movement from outside. There were no footsteps; only a strip of dim, yellow light seeped through the gap in the bedroom door, casting a long, narrow line across the floor.

Let him be, he thought. He turned over, facing away from the door. A long time passed again, and he suddenly felt that something was wrong. It was too quiet—an unsettling, absolute silence.

He froze for a moment, then sat up.

The living room light seemed to still be on. He got out of bed and pushed the door open.

The sofa was empty. A cup of tea sat on the coffee table, cold and barely touched.

He stood there for a moment, his heart suddenly hammering against his ribs. He immediately began to search.

The bathroom: empty. The kitchen: empty. The balcony: empty.

He stood in the middle of the living room, pressing a hand to his forehead. A person can't just vanish into thin air.

Then, something clicked. He turned and walked into the bedroom, went to the bedside, and crouched down, peering into the corner.

There, curled up in a ball, was a dusty gray object. It was small, soft, and motionless, tucked into the gap between the bed frame and the wall.

Jiang Zhi went still.

He reached out and picked up the object, placing it in his palm.

It was that doll. Its eyes were sewn on slightly crooked, as if it were squinting at him. One ear stood up while the other flopped down. It was covered in a bit of dust, exactly as it had been the day it fell out of the claw machine.

Jiang Zhi looked at it. It looked back at him.

He remembered what Duan Sinan had said.

"When I'm unhappy with something, I'll turn back."

Duan Sinan’s expression had been indifferent when he said that. Jiang Zhi had thought at the time, What kind of bizarre quirk is that? He hadn't asked again, and Duan Sinan hadn't brought it up since. Duan Sinan had acted normal afterward, and Jiang Zhi had assumed he was just saying it casually.

Now, looking at the dusty doll in his palm, the words rushed back to him.

Unhappy.

What was he unhappy about?

Jiang Zhi crouched there, staring at the doll for a long time. The doll stared back, its eyes lopsided. Jiang Zhi picked it up, feeling the dusty texture, and it curled into his palm.

He froze, then hugged it tighter.

And then...

Thump.

A soft sound, like something dropping. His arms grew heavy, the temperature shifted, and the texture changed—no longer the soft, synthetic feel of cotton, but the warm, solid form of a human body.

Jiang Zhi looked down.

Duan Sinan was in his arms, completely naked, his skin pressing against Jiang Zhi’s arm. His hair brushed against Jiang Zhi’s chin, and his ears were red enough to drip blood. His breathing was ragged, his chest rising and falling, yet he remained perfectly still.

Jiang Zhi: "..."

Duan Sinan didn't move.

Jiang Zhi didn't move either.

The two maintained the posture—one crouching, the other being held—neither saying a word.

After several seconds, Jiang Zhi said, "What is wrong with you?"

His voice was a bit hoarse.

Duan Sinan didn't move, burying his face in Jiang Zhi’s chest, his voice muffled. "When I'm unhappy with something, I'll turn back."

Jiang Zhi looked down, seeing only the crown of his head and those two flushed ears. The red spread from the tips of his ears down to his roots and stained his neck.

"Unhappy with what?" he asked.

Duan Sinan didn't answer, keeping his head bowed.

Jiang Zhi waited a few seconds before asking again, "I'm asking you, what are you unhappy with?"

Duan Sinan still didn't reply, but his ears turned an even deeper shade of red. His fingers curled, brushing lightly against Jiang Zhi’s arm before he finally lifted his head, looking at him with a pitiful expression.

Jiang Zhi looked at him, and suddenly, the events of the evening fell into place.

At dinner, Duan Sinan had made sandwiches with mango. He had eaten it and merely said it was "alright." Duan Sinan’s eyes had lit up, asking what he wanted for tomorrow. He had said "whatever." Duan Sinan had said he would learn new recipes. He had replied, "Learn whatever you want, just stop hovering around me."

Duan Sinan had paused then, smiled, and said okay.

Before bed, Duan Sinan had stood in the room, asking which side he should sleep on. He had told him to sleep on the sofa and not to come over. Duan Sinan had paused again, smiled, and said okay.

Then, he had found him drinking tea in the dark, looking wrong.

And finally, when he woke up, Duan Sinan was gone, and he found the doll in the corner.

Now, the doll was in his arms, transformed back into a man with burning red ears.

Jiang Zhi suddenly understood.

He was unhappy because... he hadn't hugged him.

From the end of dinner until now, every word Jiang Zhi said and every action he took had been pushing him away.

Duan Sinan had listened, smiled, and said okay. But inside, he had been awkward and hurt, eventually turning back into that unwanted, ugly doll to hide in the corner of the bed.

Jiang Zhi crouched there, suddenly not knowing what to say.

After a long time, he said, "If you're unhappy in the future, just say it."

Duan Sinan looked up at him, those eyes shining in the dim room. "Are you saying that for real?"

"Stop changing back and forth," Jiang Zhi said. "It’s the middle of the night; it’s creepy."

They stared at each other, the distance so close they could feel each other's breath.

Then Duan Sinan opened his mouth. "Will it work if I say it?" His voice was light, raspy, as if it had been stifled for too long.

Jiang Zhi hesitated. He looked into those eyes, at those ears that had yet to lose their color. The gaze was fixed on him, waiting for an answer.

"...I'll consider it."

Duan Sinan looked at him, his eyes brightening, the corners of his mouth curving upward.

Jiang Zhi looked away. "Get up," he said. "You're heavy."

Duan Sinan didn't move.

Jiang Zhi looked down at him. Duan Sinan was still curled in his arms, with no intention of getting up. His hair brushed against Jiang Zhi’s chin, tickling him. Jiang Zhi couldn't help but wonder: Is this really the CEO, President Sainan, that I looked up? Could he be a fake?

Duan Sinan blinked.

"..."

"Didn't you say you'd consider it?" he said. "Until the result of your consideration is out, I want to stay like this."

Jiang Zhi: "..."

Duan Sinan looked at him and smiled again. He snuggled further into his arms, found a comfortable position, and closed his eyes. He stayed curled up in his embrace, just like that doll—once it found a place, it wouldn't move.

"Goodnight," he said.

Jiang Zhi looked down at his face for a long time. The light from the door fell upon him, illuminating his closed eyes, long eyelashes, and slightly curved lips. His breathing gradually steadied, his chest rising and falling against his arm.

Then, Jiang Zhi noticed the corner of his mouth twitch. It was very light, just once—it looked like a smile, but it quickly went still.

Jiang Zhi froze. It finally dawned on him: Did this guy know from the very beginning that I would soften my heart?

He wanted to say something, but Duan Sinan had already closed his eyes, breathing steadily, as if he had truly fallen asleep.

Jiang Zhi watched that face for a long time. Then, he let out a soft sigh and said nothing more.

He simply held Duan Sinan there, in the dim room, without moving an inch.