Leaving
Su Zesui stared at the message from Uncle Period, raising his hand, then lowering it, then raising it again… but in the end, he just couldn’t bring himself to ignore someone’s message.
[User1947296: No]
[。: Bad mood?]
Su Zesui exited Ahoo and checked WeChat.
Seeing that Gu Yilan hadn’t messaged him, he pouted a little and reluctantly returned to Ahoo to reply a few more words to Uncle Period.
[User1947296: Yeah]
[。: Why?]
Su Zesui didn’t want to tell him that it was because his fiance hadn’t sent him a message. He figured the guy would just say something like, “You two are never getting married.”
He had been thinking about it for a while—he wanted to share his little secret with Gu Yilan, but he just couldn’t find the right moment.
[User1947296: Because I’m unhappy.]
Su Zesui kept replying half-heartedly.
[。: (link) – Five Ways to Improve Your Mood]
Su Zesui didn’t click on it. He had already downloaded the national anti-fraud app. He was afraid that if he clicked, it’d jump straight to a page asking for his bank password.
But the other person was unusually persistent—
[。: So, how can you feel better?]
Su Zesui thought for a moment, and his gaze drifted uncontrollably to the competition prep book spread open in front of him.
[User1947296: (image)(image)(image)(image)(image)]
Students who study science often have a habit: if they don’t know how to solve a problem, they set it aside and think about it before bed. Sometimes, inspiration strikes unexpectedly, and then they’re able to work it out.
But competition problems are on another level.
Su Zesui had set aside so many that they piled up to over ten questions, and he still couldn’t solve them.
The few problems Gu Yilan helped him with at night were just a drop in the bucket.
Honestly, Su Zesui didn’t really feel like chatting with anyone other than Gu Yilan.
For extroverts, socializing is how they recharge. But for Su Zesui, it was the opposite—interacting with people drained his energy. He had to solve a bunch of competition problems just to recover.
Rather than chatting about snow, stars, and the moon, or discussing everything from poetry to philosophy, he’d rather the other person just teach him how to solve a few problems.
He sent over a barrage of pictures, expecting Uncle Period to be completely scared off.
But to his surprise, the guy was actually in a rare helpful mood and sent back more detailed and innovative solution methods. The steps were all typed up on a computer—there was no handwriting at all.
Suddenly, Uncle Period’s default profile picture on Ahoo looked a lot more kind and gentle to Su Zesui.
. . . . .
An hour and a half later:
[User1947296: Thanks. I’m going to sleep.]
[。: Feeling better?]
For some reason, even though the words sounded caring, Su Zesui always read them with a strange sense of coldness. Maybe it had to do with the impression the person usually gave him.
[User1947296: No.]
[。: ?]
After receiving help for so long, Su Zesui finally confessed the truth—
[User1947296: He still hasn’t messaged me.]
The other side fell silent for a long time.
Su Zesui figured Uncle Period knew exactly who “he” referred to—after all, that one name had always been the constant in all their conversations.
[。: ??]
[。: Why would he message you?]
[User1947296: I posted on my Moments, and he’s not even curious. (drawing circles.jpg)]
[。: Curious about what?]
Su Zesui thought for a moment, then typed:
[User1947296: You wouldn’t understand.]
[。: …]
[User1947296: That’s enough. I’m going to sleep.]
. . . . .
Meanwhile, in the study.
The butler was pacing nervously, back and forth. He felt like a father waiting outside the delivery room.
Young Master Gu had been sitting at the computer trying to comfort someone for nearly two hours. Still no result. Had he failed to calm him down?
Finally—with a loud snap—Gu Yilan closed his laptop with an expressionless face.
“How did it go?” The butler rubbed his hands together and quickly stepped forward with concern.
“He’s cured,” Gu Yilan replied, in a tone so calm it was unsettling.
“What?!” The butler panicked. “The little master was sick? What kind of illness?”
Gu Yilan opened his mouth and said flatly, “Chuunibyou1.”
The butler: ???
——Late-night emo post on Moments, looking like he’s about to hang himself on his front door—but when you ask, turns out nothing’s wrong.
——If that’s not chuunibyou, what is?
Gu Yilan had already sensed something was off the moment the boy said, “He’s not even curious.”
But by the time he realized it, it was too late—he had already spent an hour and a half giving Su Zesui a completely free competition-level tutoring session.
Gu Yilan: …
Still, he logged into his main WeChat account and sent Su Zesui a message:
[11th Dimension: Sleep.]
The reply came almost instantly:
[(o^^o): Mmhm, going to bed now]
[(o^^o): (bunny-goodnight.jpg)]
. . . . .
The next morning, Gu Yilan had to leave early for some company partnership meetings—it was still dark out when he headed off.
Su Zesui got up according to his daily schedule and spent the whole morning doing homework.
The day before yesterday, he’d toured the back study on the second floor.
Yesterday, he went to the third-floor lab to do a double-slit interference experiment.
Today, his plan was to visit the fourth floor.
There was a gym up there.
He was taken upstairs by the butler at exactly 2 PM.
After the butler left, he turned on the treadmill, but not even five minutes in, he was already gasping for breath.
So he just plopped down on a chair in the gym and sat there for a full twenty minutes.
He placed a hand over his chest—it was racing, just as he expected.
Everyone in the house strictly followed the schedule.
For instance, Aunt Fan would always bring him sliced fruit at exactly 2:30 PM,
and at 3:00 PM, she’d come back to collect the empty plate.
At 2:25, Su Zesui sent her a WeChat message:
[(o^^o): Auntie, I’m in my room. I’d really like some red dragon fruit.]
[Aunt Fan: Okay, little master, I’ll bring it up soon.]
Sitting on a soft leather recliner, Su Zesui scrolled through his phone in boredom.
So much for “sharing a little secret”—that tactic was on hold.
He decided to go for method number four to improve likability—
Give him sincere praise.
He spent a while studying how to properly give compliments. By the time he looked up, it was 2:57.
He then sent another message to the butler:
[(o^^o): Uncle, I forgot to tell Auntie that I’m not in my room anymore. Could you help me put the fruit in the fridge? And maybe bring me a chilled bottle of sparkling water too?]
[AAA Butler: Right away, little master. I’m on it.]
Su Zesui pressed his pale hand against his chest, trying to calm his racing heart.
—Because yes, he was about to attempt an escape.
He chose the gym for a reason: exercising naturally increases your heart rate,
so it perfectly masked the nervous pounding in his chest.
Even if Gu Yilan checked the heart rate monitoring software, he wouldn’t be able to tell anything from the spike.
Su Zesui didn’t even turn the treadmill off.
As part of the smart home system, every gym machine uploaded its “usage time” to the cloud. He could make it look like he’d been running the whole time.
He treated this escape plan like solving a physics problem. With the known variables, he’d already deduced the first step—
If he wanted to leave without being caught, he had to first confirm where the butler and Aunt Fan were.
So he deliberately created an information gap.
The fridge was in the dining room, located on the east side of the first floor.
If Aunt Fan happened to be cleaning the east side, she might see the fruit being taken and ask the butler why.
If they compared notes, they’d realize something was off—and possibly suspect he was trying to escape, then inform Gu Yilan, who could remotely lock the doors.
On the other hand, if neither of them reacted, it meant they hadn’t crossed paths.
The butler placed the fruit in the east-side dining room and Aunt Fan was cleaning the west side.
Still a 50/50 gamble, but this method was far less risky than directly testing the system.
If caught, he could still plausibly say, “I forgot I was in the gym.”
If they didn’t catch on, no explanation needed—risk: zero.
Su Zesui stood with his body wedged in the gym doorway, gripping his phone tightly, eyes locked on the elevator at the end of the hall.
He was already in starting position.
Gu Yilan had told him before:
If the front door was locked remotely, he would receive a message.
So all he had to do now was wait and watch—
if no message came, it meant the plan hadn’t been discovered.
This kind of high-stakes, do-or-die setup was way too thrilling.
Su Zesui’s heart pounded like a drum, and his hand, gripping the phone, was slick with sweat.
“Buzz.”
His phone really vibrated.
Su Zesui felt like his heart was going to shatter.
…So unlucky.
Not even lucky enough to win a simple 50/50.
He looked down sadly and unlocked his phone—
[Big Brother: What are you up to? When are you coming home?]
Su Zesui: …
So it was just his brother.
He let out a sigh of relief and, for once, didn’t reply right away.
Because the elevator at the end of the hallway was moving—
It had stopped at the second floor! The butler had gone to get the fruit!
He was sure it was the butler using the elevator, because Aunt Fan always took the stairs.
First, it wasn’t yet 3:00 PM, so Aunt Fan wouldn’t be moving yet.
Second, since the gym was on the fourth floor, the butler would definitely choose the elevator.
And if Aunt Fan saw the elevator in use, she’d just take the stairs up to avoid it.
Watching the elevator rise, Su Zesui took off running downstairs.
The moment he stepped out of the gym, the infrared sensor flashed, and the real-time count of people in the gym dropped to zero.
This was exactly why he needed to lure the butler out of the surveillance room.
If the butler had been watching, the drop in headcount would have set off alarm bells. He would’ve focused on the front door and guarded it, making sure Su Zesui couldn’t escape.
But if it was Gu Yilan monitoring remotely, he might just assume Su Zesui finished working out and left the gym.
By the time Gu Yilan realized something was off, Su Zesui would already be long gone.
He used all his strength to stop at the corner of the spiral staircase on the second floor.
Although the eastern and western sides of the first floor were hidden behind spiral stairs and screens, if anyone descended via the spiral staircase on the east side, people on both sides could easily look up and spot each other.
Su Zesui glanced at his phone, time accurate to the second.
After 3:00 PM ticked by, he waited a little longer.
Only when the elevator display started rising again—from the first floor upward—
did he bolt down the spiral stairs.
The summer breeze brushed past his ears.
Su Zesui had never run this fast. He had never felt so free.
Right at this moment:
Gu Yilan was out on a business meeting, the butler was riding the elevator to the fourth floor with a bottle of sparkling water, Aunt Fan was using the west stairwell to retrieve his empty fruit plate.
And he—was escaping!
He was so smart. He was so lucky.
He hadn’t set off the slightest alarm. Under the watchful eyes of two people who had no coherent movement patterns, he had escaped right under their noses.
He was going to wish for Gu Yilan to marry him, seriously.
He made it all the way to the front door without encountering anyone.
He reached out and grabbed the doorknob—
when suddenly, his phone buzzed again in his pocket.
Su Zesui’s heart almost exploded from the shock.
One hand stayed on the doorknob, the other reached into his pocket to pull out the phone.
He silently prayed it was just his brother again, sending a follow-up.
He had just opened WeChat—didn’t even get a chance to read the message—when his hand successfully pressed down on the door handle.
—The front door wasn’t locked!
Su Zesui: !
But he didn’t even get the chance to feel happy.
Because the second he pushed the door open and stepped out—
He came face to face with Gu Yilan’s dark, stormy eyes.
Su Zesui’s heart stopped. His whole body froze in place.
In that split second, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the WeChat message.
It was from Gu Yilan.
The man was leaning against a jet-black SUV, one eyebrow raised,
his voice matching the message word for word, laced with mockery: “Planning to run away?”
Su Zesui’s heartbeat was a complete mess. His brain was blank, nothing but question marks.
——How did he find out?
——How was that even possible?
He had covered every angle.
The butler didn’t notice. Aunt Fan didn’t either…
His mind had short-circuited, but from his lips still slipped a heartfelt compliment he’d just recently learned: “You’re really… amazing.”
He pouted a little and whispered again, sincerely: “So amazing.”
Gu Yilan paused ever so slightly, then straightened up and took two steps toward him.
The pressure rolling off him made it hard to breathe.
Su Zesui instinctively tried to step back half a pace—but he forgot he was standing just outside the front door.
That one step back, and he tripped right over the threshold.
For the first time, his always-tense heart… actually stopped pounding.
He braced himself to fall on his butt—but before he could hit the ground, Gu Yilan’s quick reflexes caught him by the arm, yanking him back in time.
And just like that, he crashed straight into Gu Yilan’s chest.
In the struggle to regain his balance, Su Zesui’s small hands instinctively clutched at Gu Yilan’s arm.
But unlike the time he had tripped on the stairs, this time, he grabbed the other arm—and he could clearly feel it: the uneven ridges of old scars beneath the tightly drawn muscles.
One after another.
Jagged and harsh, like they had been carved by something sharp and cruel.
Su Zesui froze, startled.
He didn’t even check whether he was stable—he let go of Gu Yilan’s arm immediately.
It was Gu Yilan who finally reached out and grabbed him by the back of his neck,
steadying him in place.
Now, the two of them were very, very close.
And maybe it was just his imagination, but Su Zesui could feel the man’s body radiating alarming heat, waves of it wrapping around him, dissipating into the summer air.
From this oddly intimate angle, he could even see how Gu Yilan’s lips were tightly pressed together—and his ears… seemed a little red.
——Wait… could it be that compliment actually worked?!
He might’ve failed the escape attempt, but Ahoo’s “How to Increase Affection Points” guide had just made a major breakthrough?!
Su Zesui’s face turned pink.
He didn’t even have time to enjoy the thrill of being “caught but not hated”—
when suddenly, he felt the man’s chest vibrate under him, the low rumble buzzing straight into his brain.
And at the same moment, a cold, deliberate voice drifted down from above:
“Since you’ve been caught, shall we talk about your punishment now?”
Su Zesui: !
- “Eighth-Grader Syndrome” — adolescent delusions of grandeur. ↩︎