Chapter 42
Father Yu turned on his heel and walked back the way he came.
Yu Zhezhi didn’t even have a chance to explain; she was left standing there in a daze. Meanwhile, Hua Luoyue returned with the spray, having already read the instructions while walking.
“Let me help you,” Hua Luoyue said proactively.
Yu Zhezhi wanted to resolve the issue quickly, so she obediently tilted her head back and opened her mouth.
Hua Luoyue instinctively let out a soft, “Good girl…”
Yu Zhezhi glared at her in dissatisfaction, but since she maintained her pose without moving, the look lacked its usual deterrent power. Hua Luoyue blinked and offered her a small smile.
In the kitchen, the chef was preparing the final dish when Father Yu wandered back in. Initially, the chef assumed he was just inspecting the progress of dinner and paid him no mind. However, by the time he finished chopping the vegetables, Father Yu was still there, pacing behind him while letting out long, heavy sighs.
The chef looked up to see Father Yu reaching for a bottle of white liquor on the counter, seemingly intending to take a couple of swigs to soothe his mood.
The chef: “…”
“I need that for the stir-fry in a minute,” the chef said.
Father Yu retracted his hand with a dry laugh and continued sighing. The chef picked up his knife, set it down again, let out a breath of his own, and turned to him. “What’s bothering you now?”
The chef and Father Yu had known each other for a long time. Because of the latter’s abysmal cooking skills, Yu Zhezhi often privately hired him to help. Over the course of more than ten years, they had become very familiar. It was rare for the chef to see Father Yu in such an… indescribable state. It wasn’t quite irritability, and “tears of joy” seemed like a stretch. But he certainly wasn’t his usual easy-going, carefree self.
Father Yu shook his head and touched his own face, feeling the wrinkles. “Do I look unhappy? I feel like I’m too happy.”
The chef asked, “Did your wife come back?”
Father Yu: “…”
“No…”
“Oh…”
Thinking about it, if Madam Yu had actually returned, it was impossible for there to be no commotion on Yu Zhezhi’s side. That comment only served to prick Father Yu’s heart.
Father Yu composed himself, wiped the corners of his eyes, and sighed. ” I’m just feeling sentimental. Our Zhezhi has finally reached this age.”
The chef wanted to point out that “your Zhezhi” is twenty-six, not sixteen. Even six years ago, she was at an age where she could do whatever she wanted. Moreover, even back then, Yu Zhezhi was much more capable than her father.
But the chef thought of his own twenty-year-old only daughter—a grown girl who still occasionally clung to his arm. In his heart, his daughter was still a child, and he lived in constant fear of her being wronged. Thinking of this, the chef felt a surge of parental empathy.
“What’s wrong with this age?” the chef asked cooperatively.
“She’s in love,” Father Yu said, his voice briefly choking up.
“…” This time, the chef couldn’t empathize. “Isn’t she twenty-six?”
She’d be twenty-seven after the New Year. In other families, children of those who married early would already be running errands.
“You don’t understand…” Father Yu grabbed a bottle of wine from the table, took a gulp, and sighed. “I was worried she would end up alone forever… we set a terrible example for her.” He took another gulp.
This time, the chef didn’t have the heart to remind him. On second thought, he understood why the reaction was so exaggerated. The parents married for love, and the child should have been the fruit of that love, but instead, she became a redundant burden. In her early years, her parents were indifferent, leaving everything to the nanny; later, her mother left without looking back.
Only after the family broke apart did the father snap awake and realize he needed to care for his daughter. But the lost time and companionship could never truly be made up for. To a child, their “passionate love” was synonymous with “irresponsibility.”
Father Yu had always felt guilty about this but never dared to say it plainly, instead trying to compensate through his actions. In the blink of an eye, Yu Zhezhi had grown up. While her peers were marrying or at least dating, she was entirely focused on work. If it were truly just for her career, it would be one thing, but even when faced with the fierce pursuit of the Zhou family’s son—who promised her everything, even control over subsidiaries—she remained unmoved.
She said she didn’t want to date or marry; she had no time or energy. Later, she gained the confidence to simply say she didn’t like him. In Father Yu’s eyes, she was resistant to the very idea of love and marriage. He feared his daughter would grow old alone.
Seeing Father Yu’s eyes grow moist, the chef handed him a tissue and offered some comfort. “A genius like Zhezhi is bound to be lacking in other areas. She might seem a bit childish, but perhaps she’s just a late bloomer. Don’t cry—if someone sees you, they’ll think you’re unhappy.”
“This is called being moved to tears,” Father Yu said, wiping his face haphazardly with a paper towel. He regained his composure quickly. “I don’t expect much. I’m just relieved she’s willing to let someone in.”
The chef nodded. “Some things have to be taken slowly.”
The atmosphere at dinner was subtle. Yu Zhezhi, having been “injured,” hardly touched her chopsticks and only sat at the table to accompany Hua Luoyue. Hua Luoyue, unaware of the brief conversation between father and daughter, felt like she was sitting on pins and needles under Father Yu’s occasional meaningful glances.
She finished her dinner as quickly as possible while maintaining a smile. Finally, Yu Zhezhi reached her limit, clutched her cheek, and explained, “I just accidentally bit my tongue.”
Father Yu nodded repeatedly. “Mhm, I understand, I understand. Just be more careful next time.”
Yu Zhezhi: “…”
Father Yu then asked Hua Luoyue with a smile, “Are you full? Want some more rice?”
Hua Luoyue nodded quickly. “I’m full…”
Yu Zhezhi set down her chopsticks and pulled Hua Luoyue upstairs. “You must be tired. Go back and wash up early.”
Father Yu watched them leave, sighing to the nanny, “They have such a good relationship.”
The nanny agreed. “Yes, it’s rare to see Miss Yu so proactive and enthusiastic.”
The “proactive and enthusiastic” Miss Yu began making the bed as soon as they returned to the room. Hua Luoyue helped, still feeling bad about letting Yu Zhezhi sleep on the window seat. It was cold outside, and though the villa had floor heating, it didn’t extend to the window ledge.
“I should sleep there,” Hua Luoyue said. “I can sleep in tomorrow, but don’t you have an early meeting at the office?”
“No need…” Yu Zhezhi sat on the edge of the window seat, looking at the bedding. “Switching the quilts back and forth is more trouble.”
Hua Luoyue gave a slow, “Oh.”
Yu Zhezhi caught her expression and added an instinctive explanation: “It’s not personal. I just never share things with others.”
Hua Luoyue nodded. “I can sleep in at the hospital tomorrow. I asked the nurse; family members are allowed to stay over.”
“You sleep in the bed. I’m leaving early; I might not even run into my dad, but he’ll definitely see you. If he sees you haven’t slept well, he’ll come bother me.” Yu Zhezhi remained firm, her tone almost a command. “It’s settled.”
Hua Luoyue knew she would get angry if she pushed further, so she swallowed her words. She had never heard of such a “kind” benefactor.
Extra quilts were laid on the window seat, and Yu Zhezhi found a hot water bottle to tuck inside. Once the curtains were drawn, it looked somewhat cozy. Hua Luoyue sat on the edge of the massive bed, clutching a pillow, looking at Yu Zhezhi with nothing left to say. Such a firm germaphobe streak was likely one of the reasons Yu Zhezhi never developed feelings for the original host in the original plot.
After washing up, Hua Luoyue leaned against the headboard to read. Yu Zhezhi came in after her shower, holding her phone.
“8:00 AM—” She looked up and saw Hua Luoyue, pausing for a beat as if she’d just remembered there was another person in her room. “We’ll talk at the office tomorrow. I’m going to sleep.” She hung up quickly, set her phone on the desk, and dried her hair with a towel while looking at Hua Luoyue.
“You don’t talk in your sleep or grind your teeth, do you?” she asked.
“I shouldn’t,” Hua Luoyue looked up, flipping a page. “No one has ever complained to me about such habits before.”
“I hope that’s true,” Yu Zhezhi said.
“I hope so too,” Hua Luoyue replied.
Yu Zhezhi sat on the window seat. Hua Luoyue’s gaze followed her.
“Is there something else?” Yu Zhezhi asked.
“No… if you want to turn off the light, just tell me.”
“Let’s wait until 10:00,” Yu Zhezhi said.
“Okay…” Hua Luoyue checked the time and went back to her book.
She always seemed to look directly at the person she was speaking to. Yu Zhezhi dried her hair and checked her messages, her mind wandering. Hua Luoyue was always so “polite” to her. But that only intensified the feeling of being “served” at a high-end hotel. Usually, Yu Zhezhi wouldn’t notice such trifles, but once the thought took root, it kept popping up.
Yu Zhezhi knew she shouldn’t be annoyed—logically, this was exactly what she wanted. But emotions don’t follow logic. She wondered what would happen if her father saw this mode of interaction. Would he still think they were close? Or would he look disappointed? Did Hua Luoyue treat her roommates like this? Probably not.
Meaningless questions collided in her mind, only intensifying after the lights went out. Hua Luoyue whispered a soft “Goodnight,” but Yu Zhezhi didn’t answer. Fortunately, Hua Luoyue didn’t seem to mind. Her breathing soon became steady.
Hua Luoyue was a perfect sleeper—no sleepwalking, no talking, no snoring, and no teeth grinding. But no matter how quiet she was, the sound of someone else’s breathing was clear in the silent room.
Yu Zhezhi became increasingly aware that she was sharing a room with Hua Luoyue. Less than two meters apart, they would fall asleep to the sound of each other’s breath. The person in that bed saw her as a benefactor, a superior, a boss, or an acting partner… she was polite, respectful, and grateful, but there was no intimacy.
Yu Zhezhi knew she didn’t love her and wouldn’t love her. Yet their current relationship was legally the most intimate one possible. In the dead of night, without business or lunatics to think about, Yu Zhezhi felt a subtle sense of absurdity for the first time—lying on a bed that belonged to her, less than two meters away, was the most intimate of strangers. Or perhaps, the most distant of lovers.
She had to act even in front of her own father, pretending to be deeply in love. And she was the one who had initiated and led this entire thing from the start. What was wrong with my brain back then?
Yu Zhezhi suddenly wanted to travel back in time and slap her past self. Then she snapped awake from her chaotic thoughts. There were many reasons to marry Hua Luoyue: escaping Zhou Junyao, using a same-sex marriage to gain approval from partners and the public… and, cherishing the past through that familiar face. Now, she could add “stopping her father from worrying” to the list.
But choices in life are never perfect. To choose one side, you must bear the pressure of the other—including enduring the discomfort of sharing a night with someone else. She had never even had a roommate in college; the bedroom and sleep had always been the most private of matters.
This much… I can endure, she thought. It was only for one night. A few short hours. Yu Zhezhi kept comforting herself, trying to force herself to sleep, but it was useless. As soon as she closed her eyes, she heard Hua Luoyue’s steady breathing.
Then she couldn’t help but wonder: Why doesn’t she talk in her sleep? Doesn’t she find this silence awkward? Then she remembered: Hua Luoyue was already asleep.
The phone screen by her pillow suddenly lit up with a new message. Yu Zhezhi caught the time: 2:11 AM.
Yu Zhezhi covered her face with her hands and finally admitted it—she had insomnia. And it was because of Hua Luoyue.
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