The biting wind of a late December night, a prelude to the Chinese New Year, whipped through the narrow alleyways of Mr. Wu's flourishing restaurant.
Inside, the air hummed with the fragrant warmth of spices and sizzling woks, a stark contrast to the chill outside.
Two years had passed since a chaotic chapter had abruptly closed for Yu Han, leaving behind a fracture that had mended, both in bone and in spirit.
He no longer dwelt on Li Hao, the man whose confession had irrevocably altered his world, then shattered it with an accident that left him bedridden for two long months.
Now, Yu Han's world revolved around a relentless cycle: morning classes, followed by grueling nights as a food delivery man for Mr. Wu. This constant hustle left no room for ghosts, only the tangible weight of his responsibilities.
Meanwhile, in a different corner of the city, Yang Zi had also learned to navigate a new rhythm.
After Li Hao's departure and his stern warning to Shi Wang, a strange quiet had settled between Yang Zi and Shi Wang.
The initial shock had given way to a silent, unspoken pact of distance.
Yang Zi would occasionally catch glimpses of Shi Wang on television screens or glossy magazine pages – a rising star in the business world, handsome and formidable. He'd simply assumed Shi Wang was too engrossed in his own universe to spare a thought for their brief, complicated entanglement. Why would he?
[At Mr. Wu's Restaurant - Night]
At Mr. Wu's restaurant, the clock on the wall crept towards half-past eleven.
Yang Zi sat perched on a stool at a small, cluttered table near the kitchen, a half-empty mug of cooling tea in front of him.
He was waiting for Yu Han, as he often did, to walk home together. But it was Chinese New Year, and the festive season meant a relentless torrent of orders.
Mr. Wu's reputation for delicious, authentic home-style food had soared, and his delivery service was in high demand.
The electric bike whirred to a stop outside, its tires kicking up a fine spray of damp street grime.
Yu Han, his shoulders hunched, his face flushed and streaked with moisture, dismounted slowly. His movements were leaden, his breath coming in ragged puffs.
"Yu Han, look at you, my poor boy," Yang Zi exclaimed, rising with a concerned frown. "You're completely exhausted. You really should take some rest."
Yu Han managed a weak smile, shaking his head as he unstrapped the delivery bag. "I wish I could, Yang Zi. But look at Mr. Wu's order screen," he gestured towards the glowing tablet, "it's still flashing with new requests. I have to complete all my deliveries. And in a few days, when the New Year truly kicks in, my workload will be even heavier."
A sudden, impulsive idea sparked in Yang Zi's mind, a mischievous glint entering his eyes. He straightened up, his brow furrowed in mock seriousness.
"Yu Han, what if I could help you with some of the deliveries? Your workload would surely lessen."
Yu Han eyed him dubiously, glancing at the thin jacket Yang Zi was wearing.
"Look at the weather, Yang Zi. You'll catch a cold out there. Stay here, or better yet, go back home. Don't worry, I'll manage to complete my work."
"No, no, no," Yang Zi insisted, stepping closer and grabbing Yu Han's arm gently. "Please, let me help. And don't think I'm doing this for free, you owe me a massive hot pot dinner later, my treat!"
Yu Han hesitated, his tired eyes searching Yang Zi's determined face. "But, Yang Zi…"
Yang Zi cut him off before he could protest further.
At that moment, Mr. Wu, a portly man with a perpetually jovial expression, emerged from the kitchen, wiping his hands on his apron.
He overheard their conversation and chimed in, "Yu Han, Yang Zi is right. It's too much for one person tonight. Let him help. And don't worry about the hot pot, after all the deliveries are done, I'll treat both of you to a great meal!"
Yang Zi's face lit up. "See? Mr. Wu approves! Now, Mr. Wu," he turned to the owner with an eager grin, "give me an order to deliver, and I'll take your bike!"
Mr. Wu chuckled, shaking his head fondly. "Just wait for a minute, Yang Zi. I'm preparing the next order now."
With a shared nod and a renewed sense of purpose, Yu Han, still looking weary but grateful, left for another delivery.
Yang Zi, buzzing with an uncharacteristic energy for the late hour, carefully pulled out the electric bike, ready for his impromptu delivery service.
___________________
[At Shi Wang's home]
Miles away, in a sprawling, silent mansion bathed in the soft glow of designer lamps, Shi Wang sat alone, hunched over a sleek desk.
It was already past midnight, the city outside a distant hum. He had been relentlessly busy all day – dissecting financial reports, signing stacks of documents, preparing for yet another magazine interview, posing for a cover shoot that felt less like work and more like a performance.
The exhaustion was a dull ache behind his eyes, a weight in his shoulders. He glanced at his luxury watch, its luminous hands indicating the late hour, and stretched, a groan escaping his lips as he straightened his back. Both tired and profoundly hungry, he reached for his phone.
He called his secretary, Liu.
"Liu," Shi Wang's voice was a low rumble, "I'm hungry. Bring me some noodles."
On the other end, Liu's voice, usually deferential, was crisp and unapologetic.
"Mr. Shi, I informed you earlier that I would be out of town for a few days. You'll have to order something yourself."
"Liu, you are my secretary!" Shi Wang cried out, a note of disbelief in his voice. "You're supposed to anticipate my needs! You can't just ditch me at this moment!"
"Mr. Shi," Liu retorted, a hint of exasperation in his tone, "I'm your secretary, not your wife. It will take you less than two minutes to order something online." And with that, Liu hung up, leaving Shi Wang staring blankly at his phone.
"Fuck you, Liu!" Shi Wang roared at the silent device. "I'll fire you! You just wait till you come back!"
But his hunger only grew more insistent, a gnawing emptiness in his stomach. He sighed, defeated. He had no other option.
With a grumble, he took out his phone again and began searching for local, traditional restaurants near him.
His screen filled with countless options, but his eyes quickly drifted to one particular establishment.
Five-star rating. Reviews boasting super-fast delivery, even at late hours, and consistently hot, delicious food. Shi Wang, too hungry to overthink it, simply placed his order.
[At Mr. Wu's Restaurant]
Back at Mr. Wu's restaurant, Yang Zi was already back, having delivered his first order in record time.
He was waiting impatiently for Yu Han, who, considerate as always, had chosen a longer-distance delivery route to ensure Yang Zi wouldn't be troubled with it.
Yu Han finally returned, looking even more drained than before. He slumped onto a chair at their small table, pouring himself a cup of water with a trembling hand.
Suddenly, Mr. Wu emerged from the kitchen, a sheepish expression on his face. "I'm really, really sorry, guys," he began, "but someone just placed another order."
Yang Zi erupted in a burst of furious indignation. "Fuck that man! Seriously, people are truly forgetting the art of cooking! And look at the time, Mr. Wu! It's already past one in the morning! How can a person possibly eat at this hour?"
Yu Han, for his part, said nothing. This was merely his routine, the relentless grind he had come to accept. He simply pushed himself up from the chair. "Prepare the order, Mr. Wu. I'll go."
"Are you crazy, Yu Han?" Yang Zi demanded, his concern overriding his anger. "You're absolutely exhausted! How can you possibly drive in this condition?"
"Late-night deliveries pay a good amount," Yu Han explained, his voice flat with weariness. "We also charge extra for the late hour, so I have to deliver it."
Yang Zi frowned, his lips tightening into a firm line. "Fine, then. I'll go. You just rest here. It's only one delivery, and I'm equally tired as you are, you know."
"But, Yang Zi…" Yu Han started to protest.
Yang Zi cut him off with a sharp glare. "You just shut up, or I'll beat your ass!"
Yu Han wisely sealed his mouth. In the meantime, Mr. Wu had already prepared the packed order with surprising speed.
Yang Zi snatched the bag, slung it over his shoulder, and strode out, fuming, cursing the unknown late-night diner.
He set the delivery location on the GPS and felt a jolt of surprise as his eyes scanned the screen.
"What the fuck!! E-Elite residential.....plot... How can someone from this area can order from such a small restaurant."
The address was in an elite residential district, a postcode known for its opulent estates and exclusive residents.
As Yang Zi reached the grand, wrought-iron gates, he parked the electric bike outside the imposing building, his jaw dropping slightly.
The house was absolutely massive, a modern architectural marvel gleaming under the moonlight.
He couldn't believe someone of this status would order from a small, traditional restaurant like Mr. Wu's, especially at this ungodly hour.
Stepping off the bike, his eyes drifted towards the sprawling parking lot, where a collection of luxurious cars and high-performance bikes gleamed under the soft glow of security lights.
His eyes widened, momentarily lost in admiration for the sleek, expensive machines. He quickly reined in his awe, reminding himself to maintain a professional, cheerful demeanor.
He walked up the sweeping driveway, took a deep breath, and pressed the doorbell, rehearsing his usual cheerful spiel.
"Here's your order, sir! Please give us five stars! Thank you so much!" he repeated under his breath, a practiced smile plastered on his face.
Within a minute, the heavy, polished door swung open. A tall figure stood framed in the doorway, dimly lit from behind.
The person was momentarily preoccupied, searching for notes in his wallet.
Yang Zi continued his practiced mantra, his gaze still on the wallet, until his eyes drifted upwards, meeting the person's face.
He stopped mid-sentence, his voice catching in his throat, the words "Thank you so much" dying on his lips.
The person in the doorway, Shi Wang, also drifted his gaze upwards from his wallet.
His eyes, dark and piercing, met Yang Zi's. A flicker of confusion, then dawning recognition, before his eyes shot open, widening in sheer disbelief.
Both men went utterly silent, frozen in the cold night air, simply staring into each other's eyes, the half-formed words hanging unspoken between them.
The delivery bag felt suddenly heavy in Yang Zi's hand, and the warm noodles inside seemed to mock the icy shock that now coursed through him.
Shi Wang was the first to break the silence, a low, almost disbelieving whisper escaping his lips.
"Yang Zi…?" His voice, usually so controlled, was laced with an unfamiliar tremor. He still held a handful of banknotes, forgotten, in his outstretched hand.
Yang Zi, feeling a strange mix of exhilaration and dread, could only manage a choked, "Shi Wang… It's… it's really you."
He blinked, as if trying to clear the image, but Shi Wang remained, impossibly, in front of him.
The past two years, which Shi Wang had so carefully constructed a distance from, crumbled in that single, unexpected moment.
Shi Wang slowly lowered his hand, the money still clutched within. His gaze swept over Yang Zi – the slightly too-thin delivery jacket, the weary lines around his eyes, the electric bike parked awkwardly at the curb outside his extravagant home.
"What… what are you doing here?" he asked, his voice regaining a fraction of its usual composure, though the surprise still etched his features.
Yang Zi found his voice, a nervous chuckle escaping him.
"I'm delivering food, apparently. Who knew you ordered from Mr. Wu's? It's… a bit of a trek from here." He gestured vaguely back towards the city.
"And at this hour, too! My friend, Yu Han, was exhausted, so I offered to help out. Didn't expect the last delivery of the night to be…" He trailed off, gesturing vaguely at Shi Wang and his grand surroundings. "…this."
A faint, almost imperceptible flush rose on Shi Wang's cheeks. He felt a sudden, inexplicable embarrassment at being caught in such a mundane, vulnerable state – hungry, alone, and ordering late-night noodles.
"My secretary is out of town," he explained, almost defensively, as if he needed to justify his actions. "And I… I was hungry." He finally extended the money. "The order…"
"So," Yang Zi said, trying to sound casual, though his heart hammered against his ribs. "You're… doing well, I see. The magazines weren't exaggerating." He glanced around at the opulent foyer, just visible behind Shi Wang.
Shi Wang followed his gaze, a wry twist to his lips. "It's… work. A lot of work." He paused, his eyes returning to Yang Zi, a flicker of something unreadable in their depths.
"And you… you're a deliveryman now?" The question wasn't accusatory, merely curious, tinged with a hint of concern.
"Part-time," Yang Zi quickly clarified. "I'm still studying. Yu Han and I, we're sharing a place. He works full-time here, and I help out sometimes. Especially tonight." He offered a tired smile. "It pays the bills."
A beat of silence stretched between them, thick with unaddressed history. The cool night air felt laden with unspoken questions, with two years of deliberate avoidance.
"It's… good to see you, Yang Zi," Shi Wang said, the words feeling both foreign and profoundly true. A genuine, if hesitant, smile touched his lips.
Yang Zi's own smile widened, a warmth spreading through him despite the chill.
Yang Zi understood that the person standing in front of him was not the same person that left him two years ago, so he changed his tone more polite and respectful.
"You too, Mr. Shi. Though I never thought I'd be delivering noodles to your doorstep at one in the morning." He looked at the bag still in his hand. "Well, I should probably hand this over before it gets cold. Mr. Wu prides himself on hot food."
Shi Wang finally stepped aside, opening the door wider. "Come in for a moment," he offered, a sudden urge for conversation, for a small reprieve from his solitude, overriding his usual guardedness. "It's cold out there. Have a cup of tea, or… something."