Chapter 49: A Dinner of Silence
The dining room was quiet—too quiet.
The sound of the clock ticking on the far wall seemed louder than usual, echoing against the polished marble floor. The chandelier above cast a soft glow over the long dining table, but it wasn't enough to warm the atmosphere.
Yichen sat at the head of the table as always, posture perfect, expression calm and unreadable. His fingers rested lightly on the polished armrest of his chair, the faintest tap of his index finger betraying the thoughts swirling behind that cool mask.
Across from him, two seats away, Celia sat with a pleasant smile, doing her best to keep the air light. She had prepared this dinner with care—one last attempt at normalcy before everything shattered.
And then there was Andre.
He walked in slowly, his black shirt clinging slightly to his frame, sleeves rolled to the elbows. His face was calm, almost indifferent, but his eyes… they were cold. A sharp, unspoken storm swirled behind those dark pupils as they locked briefly on Yichen.
The chair scraped lightly against the floor as Andre pulled it out and sat opposite his mother, diagonally across from Yichen. His movements were unhurried, his silence heavy.
"Welcome home, Andre," Yichen spoke first, his voice smooth and composed, carrying no warmth, no hostility—just that calmness he wore like armor.
Andre raised his gaze slowly, meeting Yichen's eyes. There was no smile, no acknowledgment beyond a curt nod. "Mr. Zhen," he replied flatly, his voice low, almost detached.
Celia's hands froze briefly around her wine glass. The formal tone—the distance in Andre's voice—felt like a knife slicing through the calm façade she was desperately trying to maintain.
Yichen, however, showed no reaction. Not a flicker. He simply shifted his gaze back to the untouched food in front of him, as if Andre's coldness meant nothing.
Inside Andre's mind, however, silence was a battlefield.
Five months… You disappeared for five months. Just a business trip? His jaw tightened slightly, though his face remained calm. You think I didn't notice? That you didn't run from me?.
His eyes trailed over Yichen—those broad shoulders, the sharp jawline that looked even more defined now, and the faint shadow under his eyes. He had lost weight. The stress was evident if you knew where to look. And Andre knew. He noticed everything.
You did this to me… Made me crave you like this. And then you ran. His nails dug lightly into his palm under the table. Coward.
Yichen, meanwhile, was studying the boy discreetly through the corner of his eye.
Five months and he's changed. His gaze lingered on Andre's face—the harder lines that weren't there before, the cool aura that seemed to radiate from him now. The pure and cool in his eyes was gone, replaced with something cold, something… grim.
What happened to you, Andre?
The thought left an unfamiliar weight in Yichen's chest, but his face remained expressionless.
Celia cleared her throat softly, forcing a smile as she served some of the dishes. "It's good to have dinner together again. Andre, you just started university?, How's it going?"
Andre's eyes flickered briefly to her, softening only slightly before his cold mask returned. "Fine," he replied simply, picking up his chopsticks.
She pressed on, desperate to ease the tension. "Knowing you're not staying in the dormitory but with a roommate. That's surprising. You never liked company before. Is he a friend?"
For the first time that evening, something flickered in Andre's eyes. Not warmth—just a shadow of thought. He chewed slowly before answering, "He's… tolerable."
Celia chuckled, though it sounded nervous in the heavy silence. "That's progress, isn't it? My son finally has someone he can tolerate."
Yichen didn't speak. He simply sipped his wine, gaze fixed on the crimson liquid swirling in the glass, though his mind wasn't there.
Living outside the dorms… with someone else. Why does that bother me?
The thought came uninvited, but it lodged itself deep, making his grip on the glass tighten imperceptibly.
Andre noticed. Of course he did. He noticed everything about this man—every movement, every flicker of emotion, no matter how well hidden. And the faint tightening of Yichen's fingers around that glass… it made something dark curl in Andre's chest.
Good. Let it bother you. He doesn't know why he feel good about it.
The rest of the meal passed in strained silence, broken only by Celia's attempts to keep the conversation flowing. Neither man gave her much—just short replies, cold and composed, as if both were locked in their own private war behind calm expressions.
Finally, when the plates were almost empty, Celia set her chopsticks down and inhaled softly. Her smile faltered, replaced by something heavier.
"There's something I need to tell you," she began, her voice quiet but steady. Her gaze shifted between the two men—one cold, one unreadable. "Actually… something we need to tell you."
Andre's chopsticks froze mid-air. His eyes lifted slowly, locking on her, then sliding briefly to Yichen. 'They both what to tell me something?, is it about… hope.. they aren't expecting, a child?..' Andre thought pressing his lip together in discomfort.
Yichen remained composed, though inside, tension coiled tight.
"We're ending the marriage," Celia said at last. The words fell into the silence like a stone sinking into deep water.
Andre stared at her for a long moment, then turned his gaze to Yichen. His expression didn't change, but his eyes… his eyes were sharp enough to cut.
And Yichen—calm, composed, always in control—met that stare head-on. His face was a mask, but deep in those dark eyes, a storm churned silently.
The dinner was over. But the real battle had just begun.