The auction was nearing its next item when Zhang Yichen stopped listening.
Director Han was still speaking beside him, voice low and measured, something about a new script, an impossible producer, and the decline of proper acting discipline among younger stars.
Yichen had been listening. Then the words began to blur.
Across the hall, Su Feiyu returned through the side entrance with Li Jingyi beside her. Both women wore the same polished smiles they had left with.
Su Feiyu resumed her seat with graceful ease, lifting her champagne flute as though nothing in the world had shifted.
Yichen's gaze moved to Mo Fei's table.
Tang Wei sat there, calm as ever, one hand resting near his glass.
Su Feiyu was back in her chair. But Mo Fei's seat was empty.
Yichen frowned.
Director Han said something else.
Yichen did not hear it.
At Mo Fei's table, Tang Wei's eyes moved once towards the empty chair beside him. The boy had been gone too long.
Tang Wei had noticed a while ago. He had simply said nothing.
The auctioneer's voice rose brightly from the stage.
"And for our next item tonight, we are proud to present a one-of-a-kind jewellery set donated by—"
Applause broke out.
Yichen stood.
Director Han paused and looked up at him.
"Excuse me," Yichen said. He placed his untouched glass on the table and walked away before anyone could stop him.
Aria, seated beside Director Han, looked every inch the composed actress. Elegant expression. Calm posture. Hands folded neatly around her clutch.
Her gaze followed Yichen as he moved towards the side exit.
She looked across the hall. Mo Fei was not at his table. Her fingers tightened slightly. " I'll be back," she said softly.
Director Han glanced at her. His expression did not change.
He only nodded.
Aria stood and left.
At Chen Yu's table, Chef Ju had been talking for the past five minutes. Unfortunately, he seemed to enjoy the sound of his own voice.
"…of course, some chefs rely on public image more than skill these days," Chef Ju said, smiling into his glass. "Fame is seasoning too, I suppose."
Chen Yu's smile was deadly. "Really," he said. "I always thought seasoning required taste."
Kaito, seated between them, silently lifted his champagne.
Chef Ju's smile tightened. "Talent speaks for itself."
"Then why are you talking so much?"
Kaito nearly choked. Before Chef Ju could respond, Chen Yu caught movement near the exit. Aria.
Leaving.
His expression changed at once.
Chef Ju was still speaking. "As I was saying—"
"Hush."
The table fell silent.
Chef Ju blinked. "Excuse me?"
Chen Yu stood, his chair scraping softly against the floor. "I said zip it." His voice had dropped low enough to make Kaito put his glass down.
Chen Yu did not wait for another word. He turned and walked out of the hall.
In the corridor outside the main hall, Aria stopped and looked both ways.
Empty.
"Damn it," she muttered. "Where did he go?"
Chen Yu reached her a second later. "Where are you going? And where's Feifei?"
Aria turned quickly. "I don't know. He's been gone for a while."
Chen Yu's face darkened. "What do you mean, gone?"
"He wasn't at his table." Aria looked down the corridor, jaw tightening. "I lost him." She clicked her tongue. "Curse those long legs of his."
"Who?" Chen Yu asked.
"Yichen. I saw him walk out, but I lost him too."
Chen Yu dragged a hand through his hair. "Did Mo Fei say anything before leaving?"
"Does it look like I sat with him?" Aria pulled out her phone. "No. I only saw that he wasn't there. Text the others."
Chen Yu was already typing.
Within seconds, messages flew.
Back inside the hall, Sima Li saw the messages and stood so fast his chair nearly tipped over.
The famous designer beside him blinked. "Mr Sima?"
But Sima Li was already moving.
Two tables away, Zhi Xuan read the message once. His expression remained calm, but his eyes sharpened. He excused himself politely and stood. Kaito arrived in the corridor first, champagne abandoned somewhere behind him.
"What happened?" he asked.
"Mo Fei's been gone too long," Aria said. "Yichen too. We don't know where either of them went."
Sima Li appeared behind Kaito, breath slightly uneven. "How long?"
"Too long," Chen Yu said.
Zhi Xuan joined them last, quiet and composed.
"Then split up."
Aria nodded at once. "Chen Yu, take the left corridor. Sima, check back towards the washrooms and powder rooms. Kaito, check the balcony exits. Zhi Xuan, come with me towards the service hall."
"And Yichen?" Sima Li asked.
Chen Yu's mouth tightened. "We'll keep an eye out for him too." Then his eyes sharpened. "But if Mo Fei is hurt—"
Aria placed a hand on his arm. Chen Yu stopped. "Let's go," she said.
The gala continued behind them, glittering and applauding as if nothing had shifted, they split apart, moving quickly through the marble corridors, calling Mo Fei's name in low voices while the music from the hall followed them like a beautiful lie.
💜~~~~~~~
Everything he had struggled for had been for nothing.
"Hahaha…"
Mo Fei's laugh came out broken.
The HET hall was still packed with people. From where he stood, he could see the huge building, glowing beneath gold lights, full of celebrities, investors, reporters, cameras and laughter. Everyone was still inside. Everyone was still smiling.
He turned and kept walking. No direction.
No purpose. He did not care where he was going. He just needed to get away from it all.
From the lights. From the music. Su Feiyu's voice.
From everything.
At first, after his accident, he had blamed his own terrible luck. He had thought he must have been too careless, too distracted, too unlucky to look properly before crossing the road.
Then he had stopped cursing the incident after his death and transmigration. He had accepted it.
Or tried to.
Only to find out that part of the reason he had died— No.
The major reason—
Had been for nothing.
"Su Feiyu, you bitch," Mo Fei spat.
He stopped walking, eyes burning as he stared down at the grass beneath his feet.
Should he touch it? People said touching grass sometimes helped.
He bent down and ran his fingers over it.
Oh. Mo Fei pulled his hand back. It was not even real grass.
Fake. Just like him. Not real.
Was anything real anymore?
"Haa…" His throat tightened. "Fuck." His hand hit his chest once. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."
He struck his chest again, harder this time.
Why now?p
Of all times, why did these things keep happening to him?
The tears he had been holding back since the corridor finally swelled in his eyes. He had tried so hard to keep them there. To not crash. To not break. To not turn into something ugly in the middle of another beautiful place.
But how could he not?
His eyes blurred, but Mo Fei could not even explain what the tears were for.
Bai Ju? Mo Fei? The boy who died? The man wearing his face?
One drop fell. Then another.
Then a third.
"Ngh… haa… fuck." He wiped his eyes with the heel of his palm, but they refused to stay dry. More tears came. "I can't…"
He clutched his chest.
His breathing turned shallow. The world blurred at the edges. Then tilted.
Or maybe he was the one tilting.
"Mo Fei!"
Oh. Wonderful. Now the world was spinning, and he was hallucinating.
"Mo Fei!"
No. Wait.
"Mo Fei!!"
That voice.
Mo Fei turned sharply.
Someone was running towards him. Who? He could not see properly. His knees gave out.
Mo Fei fell to the ground.
"Mo Fei."
Zhang Yichen reached him and dropped beside him, sliding across the fake grass. He caught Mo Fei by the shoulders and pulled him upright until they were kneeling face to face.
"Hey. Mo Fei."
Mo Fei stared at him without really seeing him.
His mind was racing. His head throbbed.
Worse, he could not breathe.
Was he dying?
Again?
Was this how it felt the first time? How awful.
"Mo Fei, look at me." Yichen's voice cut through the static. "Eyes on me. Come on, I need you to focus."
Mo Fei's breath came too fast. Too thin. His chest rose and fell like it was trying to escape his body.
Yichen held up one finger. "How many am I holding up?"
Mo Fei did not answer.
"Mo Fei, listen to me. Follow my voice. Breathe in. One… two…"
Mo Fei's gaze slipped away.
"Mo Fei!"
Nothing was working.
"I can't…" Mo Fei gasped. "I can't breathe. I—"
Yichen's face tightened. Worry cut through his expression before he could hide it. He bit the inside of his lip, frustration flashing across his eyes.
If he did not do something quickly—
Mo Fei's breathing hitched again, sharp and broken.
Without another thought, Yichen pulled him in and kissed him.