The room fell into complete silence, and a thick, heavy tense atmosphere gradually spread. The wide-open window allowed cold wind to rush in, and Lu Ye stood by the window for a moment, feeling thoroughly chilled.
The explosive anger in his heart seemed to be forcibly cooling down by some external force. After the raging fire had subsided, all that remained were ashes crushed into dust.
So tired, Lu Ye suddenly thought.
The way adults handle things should be straightforward and effective. Since he had determined that Qi Yanbai hadn’t gone so far as to cross the red line of insanity, everything else was just their personal emotional entanglement.
Dealing with emotions could be simple or difficult. The simplicity lay in it being a matter between two people, and Lu Ye could achieve the outcome he wanted by following his heart. However, the difficulty was that he was tangled up in this—his thoughts were in turmoil, and he couldn’t figure out what he really wanted.
Lu Ye hated deception, and he despised it even more. This wasn’t just because he had high moral standards; more importantly, every time deception occurred, it was always followed by feelings of “misplaced affection” and “dramatic chaos.”
When established beliefs were overturned, it revealed that his feelings were actually worth nothing in the other person’s eyes. Lu Ye had had enough of that embarrassing feeling and despised repeatedly becoming the subject of ridicule.
He wanted to maintain his dignity and end this absurdity gracefully, just like he had done many times before. He wanted to cleanly establish boundaries with Qi Yanbai and retrieve his emotions as if he had been bitten by a dog—a bite that he wouldn’t care about.
But he couldn’t control himself.
Expectation led to disappointment, and disappointments led to grievances. Perhaps Qi Yanbai’s “playing to the audience” strategy had been too effective. Without realizing it, Lu Ye had invested too much attention and emotion in him. He cared for him, loved him, and genuinely wanted to spend his life with him.
He couldn’t cut the bond between him and Qi Yanbai as easily as chopping vegetables in an instant. He couldn’t effortlessly reclaim all the attention and emotions he had given to Qi Yanbai.
Lu Ye didn’t want to show weakness, nor did he want to melodramatically dwell on this matter. But he felt like his internal organs were being burned, as if thousands of words were stuck in his chest, waiting to be spoken.
“Actually, when I think about it now, I’ve always had a feeling.” After an unknown amount of time had passed, Lu Ye spoke again. His voice carried a heavy weariness, as if he were asking Qi Yanbai but also questioning himself, “I’ve given you so many chances. Why didn’t you confess?”
Qi Yanbai couldn’t answer that question.
He knew Lu Ye had given him many chances—on New Year’s Eve, the encounter with Lu Ye’s ex-boyfriend at the police station, and even earlier, at his father’s art exhibition. Lu Ye’s keen sixth sense had given him hints multiple times, making him repeatedly confirm Qi Yanbai’s sincerity.
But Qi Yanbai hadn’t seized a single one of those chances.
He had awakened too late. Only when his liking for Lu Ye had finally surpassed his possessiveness did he understand the meaning of “fear.” Everything was already too late.
Lu Ye didn’t wait for Qi Yanbai’s answer, as he had already guessed from Qi Yanbai’s unpleasant expression what had happened. His expression went through several changes, gradually showing disbelief.
“Yanbai.” Lu Ye finally asked, “When was the tracking software installed?”
Qi Yanbai’s heart skipped a beat, and he instinctively wanted to evade the question. However, he opened his mouth, knowing that he had to answer.
Tonight had gone awry from beginning to end. His test, if it had happened earlier, might have given them a chance to salvage the situation. But it had taken place today, after Lu Ye had already learned everything.
So that insignificant test was no longer like the “warm water” of boiling a frog; it had become a “soup,” pouring oil on the fire.
Tonight, he had already added too much pressure to Lu Ye’s bottom line. If he didn’t do something soon, he might really lose the person in front of him.
By now, Lu Ye’s meant a lot to him than a simple “boyfriend.” Qi Yanbai couldn’t imagine what it would be like without him. Just the thought of that possibility drove him nearly insane.
He had to tell the truth. Qi Yanbai bit his lip, thinking that he needed to stop this train before it derailed completely. He still had a chance to salvage things with Lu Ye.
Lu Ye was waiting for his answer, and Qi Yanbai took a deep breath. Just as he was about to speak, Lu Ye interrupted him.
“Don’t lie to me anymore,” Lu Ye said coldly. “I want to hear the truth.”
“I know,” Qi Yanbai said, pursing his lips. “It was during our second meeting—at that restaurant we ate with Lu Mingming.”
Lu Ye suddenly froze.
Once the truth started, the subsequent revelations seemed less difficult. Qi Yanbai didn’t make Lu Ye prompt him; he began to “confess” on his own.
“Do you remember? At that time, I went out to take a phone call,” Qi Yanbai’s voice was very soft, sounding like elusive mist. “I wasn’t busy with work then. I was in contact with Taobao to receive the tracking software.”
After their first meeting, Qi Yanbai hadn’t slept well that night. He couldn’t stop thinking about Lu Ye and the dream that had rekindled his passion for painting.
That night, he tossed and turned, regretting intensely. He regretted not seizing the opportunity to get Lu Ye’s contact information. He had let Lu Ye go without reason, letting him disappear into the vast sea of people.
That regret was like a drug, making him unable to escape the insatiable restlessness. The desire, like an incurable disease, had been haunting him until the next afternoon when he saw Lu Ye again at the training center.
“…I felt at the time that you were a gift from heaven,” Qi Yanbai finally raised his head. He stared directly at Lu Ye, his eyes filled with emotions that Lu Ye couldn’t understand. “I knew then that I had to do what I had to to keep you.”
So, he made a snap decision, bought the tracking software on Taobao during their meal and implanted it on Lu Ye’s phone under the pretext of exchanging contact information.
That was his first step into the abyss, and it marked the beginning of his irreparable downfall.
Lu Ye had guessed that tracking had occurred earlier than eavesdropping, but he never expected it to have happened this early.
He subconsciously recalled every detail from that day, feeling that Qi Yanbai’s acting skills were incredibly superb. They had a whole meal together, and Lu Ye hadn’t noticed Qi Yanbai harboring such intentions.
He remembered Qi Yanbai’s busy phone notifications that day and the gentle, accommodating look Qi Yanbai had given him. In an instant, he felt a chill down his spine.
Many things are interconnected. When the first “coincidence” no longer exists, everything that follows could actually be traced.
“So, when you were later scammed and came to the police station to report it, it wasn’t a coincidence either?” Lu Ye asked.
“No,” Qi Yanbai answered instinctively, taking a step forward. “I wanted to get to know you better, spend more time with you… But you were distant at that time, and I couldn’t find any other way to approach you, so I thought I’d start by getting into your line of sight.”
The connection between a “teacher” and a “student’s parent” is as fragile as a spider’s thread, easily broken. At that time, Qi Yanbai couldn’t settle for slowly building their relationship the conventional way. So, he took a risky step.
If that drunk thug hadn’t interfered, Qi Yanbai would have smoothly learned about Lu Ye’s workplace during this “chance encounters,” and then he would have used the pretext of needing Lu Ye’s help to retrieve his money back to invite him to dinner and gradually learn more about him.
But plans don’t always go as expected, and the drunk thug’s appearance disrupted Qi Yanbai’s arrangements, unexpectedly accelerating the development of their relationship.
That night, inside the hospital, Qi Yanbai realized his feelings for Lu Ye for the first time and understood his growing desire. Consequently, his desires became uncontrollable from then on.
Occasional contacts were no longer enough for him. The role of “ordinary friends” was far from sufficient. Qi Yanbai wanted more, and so his methods became increasingly direct and risky.
“So, the apartment rental was intentional too,” Lu Ye’s tone gradually shifted from doubt to certainty. “You discovered my address, knew where I lived, and deliberately moved into the adjacent apartment. But how did you know which floor I lived on?”
Location tracking software hadn’t advanced to the point where it could reveal the exact floor someone was on. Qí Yanbai pursed his lips and said softly, “When you weren’t at home, I came over once. I waited for you in the stairwell and observed the floor you stopped on.”
His thinking was careful, and his plan was well-structured. Lu Ye found himself increasingly disturbed as he listened, and his skin was covered in goosebumps.
Someone who could engage in surveillance and tracking like this was undoubtedly selfish and obsessive. He hadn’t expected the truth to be even more outrageous than he had guessed.
So, all those so-called “chance encounters” were carefully orchestrated by Qi Yanbai.
“I see,” Lu Ye said, connecting the dots. “So, you arranged to meet me that day and then canceled to make sure I didn’t have any other appointments in the evening, allowing you to conveniently return home when you moved, right?”
To make it seem natural and unforced, arranging a “chance encounter” was indeed the best way to ensure Lu Ye would learn about his change of address.
“Yes,” Qi Yanbai hesitated for a moment but ultimately admitted, “I knew you wouldn’t stand me up, so you wouldn’t make other plans that evening. You don’t go out much, mostly spending time with your colleagues. If you had gone to the training center to find me first that evening, you wouldn’t have had time to arrange anything else.”
Creating opportunities, shaping destiny, making everything seem perfectly logical—Qi Yanbai had always done it that way.
And then, step by step, he had quietly, imperceptibly, walked into Lu Ye’s life, without anyone noticing.