Chapter 60

Shen Zhi came back in the afternoon. Xu Yan told him he'd take two days off starting tomorrow and would come over then, so Shen Zhi should head home and rest first. What Shen Zhi didn't tell him was that he'd landed in Xu Yan's city — he had a routine checkup at the hospital today.

Lan Qiucheng switched Shen Zhi to a new medication and went downstairs with him to pick it up, chatting along the way. This time, all the scale indicators showed significant improvement. From Shen Zhi's mood and micro-expressions, Lan Qiucheng could tell he was doing really well — the best he'd been in years.

"Right now you're doing great. Keep it up," Lan Qiucheng said. "Same as always — take your meds on time, and reach out to me right away if anything comes up."

Shen Zhi was quiet for a moment, then said, "There's something I need to ask you."

Lan Qiucheng looked at him. "What is it?"

Two whole days after losing his little brother, Xu Yan got a call from Xu Nian.

"Nian-nian, what's up?" Xu Yan's voice was impossibly gentle. "What made you call all of a sudden?"

Xu Nian's voice was ice-cold. "Xu Yan, I know you're stubborn as a mule. I'm not going to talk you out of it, and I'm not getting in the way of your love life. As for Mom and Dad — figure out on your own how you're going to explain it. I'm not covering for you."

"Okay, I wasn't counting on you to," Xu Yan said with a smile.

"But there's something I need to tell you."

"Mm, go ahead."

"You know Shen Zhi's seeing a psychologist, right? Is he using that to play on your sympathy?"

Xu Yan was editing a photo. When he heard that, his hand trembled and he pushed the model's jawline in so far it caved. He calmly hit undo, let go of the mouse, and asked, "How do you know he's seeing a doctor?"

From the way he asked, Xu Nian understood Xu Yan didn't know.

"I was with my sister for her prenatal checkup. In the elevator, I ran into Shen Zhi and Lan Qiucheng. Lan Qiucheng — you remember him, right? He was at Ji Huai-ge's birthday. You even asked him for a card."

"My sister and I had masks and hats on, so Shen Zhi didn't recognize us. I heard Lan Qiucheng telling Shen Zhi about the drug's side effects, telling him to start with half a pill, and keep the other meds at the same dose as before."

"That was about it. They went to fill the prescription together. When they were chatting in the hallway, they took their masks off. There's no way I got it wrong."

After a long pause, Xu Yan said, "Got it."

"Ge, think it over yourself." Xu Nian paused. "My sister talked some sense into me. She said she believes every choice you're making right now is a rational one, and told me to support you more. So, no matter what, I hope you're happy. I respect your decision. Just — don't let yourself get hurt again."

"Okay."

After hanging up, Xu Yan saved the file, shut down his computer, neatly packed up his things, and left the office. But a few seconds later, he turned back and grabbed the car keys sitting out in plain sight on the desk.

At the hospital, Xu Yan stood in the lobby looking at the navigation map, found the psychiatry floor, and headed for the elevator.

There was only one doctor in the office. Xu Yan knocked twice. "Dr. Lan."

Lan Qiucheng looked up. When he saw Xu Yan, he froze for a second, surprised — but somehow, Xu Yan's presence didn't really catch him off guard. He smiled. "Xu Yan, hi."

The sunset blazed red, lighting up the whole wide street, burning like fire across his face. Xu Yan drove straight into that vivid light.

Every word Lan Qiucheng had said kept replaying in his head, over and over.

"Xu Yan, hi."

"Shen Zhi asked me just a few hours ago, 'If Xu Yan ever comes to ask about my illness, don't keep it from him. Don't hide anything. Tell him the truth.' I didn't expect you to show up this fast."

"Shen Zhi was diagnosed with severe depression and moderate anxiety three years ago. He'd already developed serious somatic symptoms — stomach pain, difficulty breathing, stiff limbs. You must have just gone abroad around then. Shen Zhi was in the middle of exam prep."

"His situation wasn't good. MECT — modified electroconvulsive therapy — would've been the faster, more effective option for him, but it has side effects and aftereffects, like memory loss and slower reaction time. So Shen Zhi refused. He insisted on medication and counseling."

'During treatment I noticed Shen Zhi also had clear signs of acute stress disorder. He'd seen a therapist back in middle school — the issues went all the way back to childhood. His parents had extremely high expectations, and whenever he made a mistake they'd lock him in a room as punishment. One of the most direct consequences was that he became afraid of the dark. You probably know something about Shen Zhi's Home life already — back then, even though his parents did take him to see a therapist, they also tightened their surveillance over him at the same time, watching his every move. Shen Zhi hated it. He told them he was fine, that he didn't need to see anyone anymore.'

"During the two years you lived together, Shen Zhi liked sleeping in completely dark rooms. Because you were there, he felt he could overcome the fear — turn the dark into something normal. After you two broke up for good, he spent too long alone in total darkness, and the trauma response came back."

"Some depression patients have a pattern — rumination. Shen Zhi's like that. He keeps replaying the things that hurt him: the punishments from childhood, some of the scenes from when you two were apart. He told me the thing that hurt him most was realizing he'd misunderstood you for four years."

"Those memories show up in his dreams too. His insomnia was severe. After he started medication, he went through a phase of hypersomnia, but he'd wake up in jolts. He said he kept dreaming he was stepping into an elevator with no car, falling from a great height. So he fought sleep — afraid of dreaming about the fall, afraid of dreaming about you walking away."

"I don't know if he's told you this, but he goes to Paris a few times every year. One of those times is your birthday. The rest depends on luck — he might not run into you, since you fly all over the world and are rarely at the apartment. But every time he comes back from Paris, his state is temporarily a little better."

"His workload at the firm is brutal. Lots of pressure, constant business trips, late nights. But he loves the work, and once he knew you were coming back to the country, his mental state stabilized. After a few checkups and tests, we confirmed the depression had dropped to moderate, and the anxiety to mild."

"But after you came back, you rejected him, and he also got the wrong idea that you had a girlfriend. So he got worse again. He started having hallucinations that had barely flared up before. Of course, your rejection and pushing him away was a normal reaction. From where you're standing, I completely understand how you felt and what you did."

"Shen Zhi never told you about this. I think he was right to do it — trading his illness for a moment of your sympathy isn't reliable. Before you knew any of this, you were willing to try again with him. For Shen Zhi, that was a kind of validation — proof that you weren't with him out of pity."

"That's basically Shen Zhi's situation these past few years. I hope it hasn't put too much pressure on you. When you get right down to it, the root of Shen Zhi's illness is his family. Childhood issues that never got proper treatment shaped his personality. Then came the break with his family and the breakup with you — it all piled up until it finally blew."

"Shen Zhi wasn't a good partner before. He knew that clearly, so he broke himself down and rebuilt. The process was agonizing, but at least you were willing to give them both another chance. Xu Yan, you're a very brave person."

That was it. Xu Yan hadn't said a word the whole time. At the end, he just bowed slightly to Lan Qiucheng — a thank-you and a goodbye — turned, went downstairs, got in the car, cut across the city to the highway, and didn't stop once.

The sun was sinking below the horizon, leaving only a smear of red. Xu Yan was grateful he was on the highway, where he could floor it. He thought of Shen Zhi — so many versions of him. Pale. Lost. Desperate. Falling apart. Crying. So many things had signs he could've followed. The weight loss. That night at the hotel in Beijing. "I can love you like a normal person now." The way he couldn't stand in the storage room. Tang Yunyan saying he'd been hospitalized. The way he still remembered to take his meds even when he was drunk.

They weren't sleeping pills. They were antidepressants.

He thought of what he'd said to Shen Zhi back then: Shen Zhi, I suggest you see a doctor. You've got something wrong in your head. No wonder you can't love anyone. You poor thing.

So Shen Zhi really did go see a doctor. And he really was diagnosed.

Xu Yan wiped hard at his eyes. His jaw wouldn't stop trembling. His insides felt clenched — squeezed tight into a crumpled ball, rolling around in his hollow chest, hurting no matter where it hit.

What was he supposed to do. What could he do.

He'd rather Shen Zhi have been carefree and happy, thrown every last bit of the past away — anything was better than seeing him like this, riddled with wounds, fragile, broken, not a single easy moment in over three years.

They always say love is a good thing. So why does it do this to people.

The one-hour drive felt endless. By the time he hit the city, it was rush hour. Taillights blinking, red lights hanging high — red, glaring, staring him down like a wrathful deity, grabbing at the panic and dread in his chest, dragging it out into the open, flaunting it right in front of him, making him unable to sit still.

Something inside him was swelling, about to burst. He couldn't breathe. He wanted to scream — let the sound and the explosion happen together, vent all the ache and pain, end it all in one go.

Xu Yan raised a hand to cover his eyes. Tears kept streaming down. He was trapped on this crowded, stalled straightaway, and he couldn't stop imagining what it felt like when Shen Zhi's illness hit — curled up, rigid, suffocating. He couldn't feel it himself.

He was just so tired.

He'd never told anyone, but these past few years, he was exhausted.

Always forcing himself not to think about Shen Zhi, as if thinking meant he hadn't really let go. People love pushing themselves to prove their resolve — but there's no need. If he truly didn't care anymore, he wouldn't have to.

Fighting himself like this was too tiring.

That night, seeing Shen Zhi drunk, seeing that home that hadn't changed at all — Xu Yan couldn't hold it together anymore. They were actually a lot alike. Living like normal people on the surface, but never really stopping the quiet self-torture underneath.

Xu Yan just hadn't expected Shen Zhi to be hiding wounds that ran deeper and were harder to see. He'd never planned to use any tactics for revenge, but he couldn't stop Shen Zhi from punishing himself. It was too much. Why did it have to be like this? Why did Shen Zhi have to experience his own feelings this way?

Feeling loved through his own long, drawn-out pain and guilt.

The car pulled into the complex. It was fully dark now. Shen Zhi's house was getting closer. Xu Yan hit the brakes and stopped under a tree along the main road. Eyes red-rimmed, he looked sideways through the window. The white magnolia stood quietly in the moonlight. The light on the second-floor terrace was on. The door opened. Shen Zhi stepped out.

He walked to the railing, on a call, holding a glass of water.

More than once, Xu Yan had thought Shen Zhi was like a tree — rooted in the white snow by the streetlamp on that winter night at Beihai, growing in the summer wind under the sunset, growing too in that stretch of wilderness that had once been abandoned to its fate. A long time later — right now, in fact — Xu Yan looked back and saw the wilderness had already grown thick with green, and he no longer had to guard a mirage and lie to himself.

Every emotion that had been on the verge of bursting out went quiet the moment he saw Shen Zhi. Xu Yan wiped his tears, picked up his phone, and dialed a number.

"Hello?"

"Dr. Lan, it's Xu Yan."

"What's going on?"

"There's something I need to ask you."

"Go ahead."

Xu Yan looked up, took a deep breath, gazed at Shen Zhi on the balcony, and before the tears fell again, he said, "Could you do me a favor? Don't tell Shen Zhi I know about this."

If he could, who wouldn't want to do it with dignity. Love with dignity. Be loved with dignity.

He couldn't just go and blow it open. He'd decided not to ask anything, not until Shen Zhi found the courage to say it himself.

"Okay. I won't mention it to him," Lan Qiucheng said.

Face a mess from crying, Xu Yan sat in the car for ten minutes after hanging up. Shen Zhi had also finished his call and was leaning on the railing, taking a sip of water.

A moment later, Xu Yan got a WeChat message from him: You're off tomorrow, right? Want me to come pick you up?

Xu Yan stared at the screen, watched it light up, then dim on its own.

He put on a mask, rolled down the window, started the car again, drove forward a few meters, turned left. The headlights shone straight at Shen Zhi's house, lighting it up bright.

Shen Zhi froze, looking down from the second floor.

Xu Yan sniffed, leaned out the window, and smiled, waving at him.