Melancholy

After that night, Lu Yinghuai had to travel abroad for a Minghan overseas project. The unresolved matter of Pei Huan's refusal still weighed heavily on his mind, leaving him in a foul mood these past few days. At the overseas branch, everyone noticed his icy, forbidding demeanor—though he was always somewhat stern, his mood was clearly worse than usual.

The matter at hand wasn’t complicated, but it still took Lu Yinghuai several days to resolve. Once it was done, he didn’t rush to leave. This was the city where he had attended university, and every street here was intimately familiar to him. Gazing at the well-known buildings, memories of those days when he scraped by in obscurity rose unbidden.

Lu Yinghuai sat on a bench by the roadside. London’s streets bustled with life; blue-eyed, blond-haired locals passed before him. Some were struck by his striking Eastern features, whispering to friends about the handsome stranger. A few bold women approached to strike up conversation, but Lu Yinghuai was never particularly warm—he dismissed them with a few curt words, leaving them to form their own conclusions about him.

A cold, aloof man possessed of endless charm.

A few pigeons fluttered down before him. Children crouched to feed them, and Lu Yinghuai watched the scene, lost in thought. He remained motionless long after the children had left and the pigeons had flown away, his gaze still fixed on that empty spot, his expression numb.

He had no idea how much time had passed before he finally rose from the bench where he had sat for half an hour. In that absent-minded interval, Pei Huan’s face kept appearing in his mind. Whether in the past or now, he still liked her—no, loved her. He had persisted in seeking her out all these years because he could not let her go.

As he passed a shop, his eyes fell on a necklace displayed in the window. He couldn’t help but picture Pei Huan wearing it; it would suit her beautifully. With that, Lu Yinghuai stepped into the luxury boutique and, without any small talk, simply asked the clerk to wrap up the necklace.

Emerging with the black and gold-embossed bag in hand, he glanced down and was suddenly reminded of their current relationship. He had neither the right nor the reason to give her such a gift.

After a long moment, he let out a bitter, self-mocking laugh.

That evening, a friend in London invited Lu Yinghuai out for drinks. With nothing pressing to attend to, he agreed.

The bar was lively and noisy. Tim and Lu Yinghuai sat together at the counter while the bartender deftly mixed two drinks and slid them over.

“Lu, it’s been ages! You’re looking more handsome than ever,” Tim teased.

“Is that so?” Lu Yinghuai replied, utterly disinterested.

Tim took a sip before asking, “So what brings you back to London? Missed me?”

“Business,” Lu Yinghuai replied coldly.

Tim chuckled, teasing him a bit more. From the moment they’d met tonight, he could tell something was off with Lu Yinghuai’s mood. At last, he came out and asked, “You look pretty down tonight, Lu.”

He expected Lu Yinghuai to ignore the comment as usual, but instead, after a sip of his drink, Lu Yinghuai said, “I ran into the girl I liked in high school.”

Tim’s eyes widened.

Back in university, whenever someone confessed to Lu Yinghuai, he would always turn them down, claiming he already liked someone. Tim had always assumed it was just an excuse, but judging from his friend’s gloomy demeanor now, perhaps it had always been true.

“And?” Tim prompted.

“She’s changed a lot,” Lu Yinghuai said, his voice low. “She’s more mature now, more beautiful, even more outstanding than I imagined.”

“Then why do you look so dejected?” Tim asked, intrigued.

Lu Yinghuai lowered his gaze, a wounded look flickering in his eyes. “She’s grown more and more distant from me. I can feel her avoiding me, fleeing from me. The day we met again…” He paused, voice hoarse, “she was indifferent, unwilling even to speak to me.”

Even Tim, a veteran in matters of love, could find no useful advice for this situation. He could sense how much his friend treasured this girl and feared saying the wrong thing.

“I saw a necklace today that would have suited her perfectly,” Lu Yinghuai continued, giving a bitter laugh. “But I realized I have no reason to give it to her at all.”

This was the first time Lu Yinghuai had opened up so much to Tim, who clicked his tongue in surprise. “I never imagined you’d be so devoted.”

Lu Yinghuai took another sip, ignoring the jest. His mood was at rock bottom.

“Why not try taking the initiative?” Tim suggested.

“I did,” Lu Yinghuai replied quietly. “She refused.”

Tim’s expression was one of disbelief. “Someone refused you?”

Lu Yinghuai shot him a cold glance. “I’m not some heartthrob.”

After the joking subsided, Tim offered plenty of advice, but Lu Yinghuai fell silent, drinking alone while Tim kept up a steady stream of romantic tips.

Lu Yinghuai lingered in London for several more days after finishing his work before returning to Ling City.

During this time, Pei Huan was also buried in work, barely finding time to eat. At lunch, Tan Yan would grumble, “The company’s working us like cattle.”

“Whether or not we’re cattle, I feel like I’m on the verge of a breakdown,” Pei Huan replied, her face expressionless.

There had been no news from Lu Yinghuai these days; she only learned of his business trip abroad by chance from Lu Feng. She was surprised for a moment but quickly suppressed any emotion, maintaining a calm façade.

Lu Feng watched her carefully, but after her initial surprise, she betrayed no further reaction, leaving him uncertain of her true feelings toward Lu Yinghuai.

Though he had never really approved of the pair, seeing his cousin now so lost and dispirited brought back memories of the rare smiles Lu Yinghuai used to show in high school—a far cry from his time abroad.

Lu Feng knew Lu Yinghuai had lived poorly overseas and often secretly bought tickets to visit him. Seeing the wretched conditions his cousin endured, Lu Feng couldn’t hold back his tears. Lu Yinghuai frowned. “What are you crying for?”

“You shouldn’t have to live like this,” Lu Feng said, heart aching for him.

“And what should I be like?”

Lu Yinghuai asked the question with chilling calm, his face empty of expression, his eyes lifeless, as if he had lost all hope in the world.

“A child of destiny,” Lu Feng finally said.

Lu Yinghuai let out a derisive laugh, full of self-mockery. “Don’t flatter me.”

Pulled from his reverie, Lu Feng’s expression was grim. Pei Huan noticed and asked, “Are you not feeling well?”

“No,” Lu Feng shook his head.

After a brief internal struggle, he spoke up for Lu Yinghuai, recounting in detail his cousin’s hardships abroad. Though Pei Huan had heard it all before from Lu Yinghuai himself, Lu Feng’s account painted an even grimmer picture.

When he finished, he looked at Pei Huan, who kept her head down, her thoughts unreadable. At last, he sighed, said goodbye, and left.

Pei Huan stood there, lost in thought.

Time passed unhurriedly, and soon it was the day of the Class Eight humanities reunion. Tang Yue even posted a photo of her outfit in the group chat. To be fair, Tang Yue’s striking looks made her stand out with even a little effort. Pei Huan showered her with exaggerated praise, making Tang Yue beam with delight.

Li Xuan and Wang Xun were not to be outdone and began fishing for compliments from Pei Huan. She could only smile helplessly and play along.

When Tang Yue arrived at the private room, only a few people had come. Everyone was curious whether Lu Yinghuai would attend this year; as soon as Tang Yue entered, she was welcomed into their conversation.

“I saw in the group chat that Lu Yinghuai said he’d come tonight—is that true?” one girl asked.

“I don’t know,” Tang Yue replied, shaking her head. “I’m not close to him.”

People gradually arrived. Apart from a few who couldn’t make it for special reasons, everyone was present—except Lu Yinghuai. Every so often, someone would glance expectantly at the door. At last, the door opened, and all eyes turned.

Lu Yinghuai entered, impeccably dressed, his entire bearing exuding an aloof and noble air. Just the few steps he took into the room left everyone entranced. Li Xuan quickly called him over to sit by his side.

Low murmurs rippled around the table, with more and more people speculating whether Lu Yinghuai was with Pei Huan or Yuan Tao, or if he was even married.

Someone asked Yuan Tao, who smiled mysteriously and gave an ambiguous response, leading everyone to assume she was indeed dating Lu Yinghuai. The crowd took this as confirmation and began to tease her.

“Come on, you two are practically at the altar already,” one girl joked.

Yuan Tao waved her hands, flustered. “Oh, nothing’s happened yet—don’t get carried away.”

But her intimate way of addressing him only fueled the others’ certainty.

Li Xuan eyed the cold and detached Lu Yinghuai beside him, feeling ever more resentful toward the man who had once hurt Pei Huan. Yet he had no grounds to admonish him.

That night, Lu Yinghuai accepted every toast, drinking everything offered. Someone joked, “President Lu can really hold his liquor!”

Lu Yinghuai ignored the comment, drained his glass, and poured himself another. Though he could usually drink a lot, tonight he had far exceeded his limits. Even Li Xuan grew uneasy and tried to intervene. “Are you trying to kill yourself? What if you get alcohol poisoning?”

Lu Yinghuai cast him a cool glance and said nothing, continuing to drink with others, infuriating Li Xuan.

“So be it. Drink all you want. Don’t blame me if you regret it tomorrow,” Li Xuan huffed, washing his hands of the matter.

As the dinner drew to a close, Li Xuan could sense that, though he concealed it well, Lu Yinghuai was thoroughly drunk. He quickly got someone to help Lu Yinghuai over to the sofa in the private room. The man took out Lu Yinghuai’s phone and asked for the password. In his drunken state, Lu Yinghuai offered it without hesitation. The man entered the code, and Li Xuan, overhearing, frowned slightly.

Wasn’t that Pei Huan’s birthday?

Scrolling through the contacts, none had any labels, leaving the man at a loss about whom to call. Then he saw the number marked simply with a “1.” After a moment’s hesitation, he dialed it. The call was quickly answered.

“Hello, who is this?” a clear, melodious woman’s voice sounded from the other end. The man found it strangely familiar, searching his memory for the matching owner. He could scarcely believe his own suspicion but still asked, “Are you… Pei Huan?”

There was a long silence before the answer came.

“I am.”