Volume One, Chapter 39: Aya, Be Good
Sang Wan entered and headed straight for the third floor.
She found neither sign nor trace in the media room.
Nor on the balcony.
Descending to the second-floor terrace, she finally saw 2S devouring canned food. The rabbit meat can, palm-sized, was being torn apart, meat and broth splattering as 2S took mouthful after mouthful.
Even when she made noise, it merely glanced at Sang Wan, never pausing its feast.
No matter how she looked, it showed none of the signs of a hunger strike.
Beside her, the old butler remained serene, his face and eyes betraying not a hint of embarrassment. “Young master coaxed it all night yesterday, even called a doctor to give it a nutrient injection. When the driver left earlier, I told it you were coming—perhaps it understood.”
What?
Wasn’t it supposed to be impossible for animals to turn into spirits after the founding of the nation?
She looked at the solemn old butler.
Then at the voracious 2S.
Sang Wan finally relaxed. “Where’s Lou Ye?”
The butler’s calm countenance suddenly wrinkled into concern. “He’s in the first-floor bedroom. Won’t come out, won’t let us in. Even the doctor got chased away.”
Sang Wan turned to leave.
The butler followed, muttering as he walked, “Young master’s always been like this. When sick, he hates medicine, hates injections, just toughs it out himself. Didn’t look well this morning, but we didn’t notice—he still went to the company for a meeting, then came home and locked himself in his room, looking miserable.”
“Miss Sang, sorry for troubling you!”
He escorted Sang Wan to the main bedroom door, sighing as he headed toward the kitchen.
Knock knock!
“Lou Ye?”
Knock knock!
“Lou Ye, it’s Sang Wan…”
No response.
Sang Wan reached for the handle.
A gentle turn, and the lock yielded.
The rich scent of cold pine flooded her senses, as if she had stepped into a frosty, shadowed forest.
“Lou Ye?”
Her eyes adjusted as she moved toward the bed, tapped the touchscreen, and the curtains slowly parted.
Lou Ye lay among indigo pillows and blankets, brows furrowed, face pale.
Sweat glistened on his forehead.
She reached out and touched him—his temperature was alarmingly high.
“Lou Ye? Lou Ye?”
She called softly, but he remained motionless.
Sang Wan rose and went out, fetched a medical kit from the butler, and returned to the bedroom.
After years caring for Lu Jinnian and Lu Xiaomu, Sang Wan was well-versed in tending to common ailments like colds and fevers.
Lou Ye had no prior medical history.
The weather had been erratic lately.
Most likely, he caught a chill after staying up last night, his immune system weakened, resulting in a cold.
She gave him an ibuprofen.
Applied a cooling patch to his forehead.
Within minutes, his brow visibly relaxed.
Sang Wan’s expression eased.
Outside, the old butler let out a long breath.
“What kind of porridge does he like? Have the kitchen make some—when the fever breaks and he regains his appetite, let him have a bowl.”
“All right.”
“And tonight, you—”
“Miss Sang!” Hearing Sang Wan about to leave, the butler pleaded, “Young master’s rule: after dinner, no one stays in the house, not once in all these years. Please, would you mind helping him just a bit longer?”
Sang Wan hesitated for a moment.
But the butler and the chef and servants had already departed in unison.
The vast villa fell instantly silent.
Only the aroma of porridge simmering in the kitchen lingered, filling the space with warm, gentle fragrance.
Sang Wan: …
Returning to the bedroom, she found Lou Ye asleep, his arms cradling the curled-up 2S.
Noticing Sang Wan, 2S seemed only then to realize she had come.
It stood up, “Meow—”
Sang Wan approached, sat by the bed, stroked its head, and scolded softly, “Why are you so naughty, hmm?”
Meow!
2S snuggled against Sang Wan, nestling in her arms.
When Lou Ye’s hand clasped hers, Sang Wan startled, instinctively wanting to pull away.
But Lou Ye held tighter.
“Be good, A-Ye…” Holding Sang Wan’s hand to his cheek as a pillow, Lou Ye murmured like a child, “A-Ye is the best…”
Judging by his expression, he had clearly mistaken her for his mother.
Sang Wan’s heart softened.
She let him be.
Soon, the fever broke.
His brow relaxed.
His grip loosened.
His breathing grew steady and deep.
She kept watch for another half hour, and the fever did not return.
Sang Wan crept quietly out of the bedroom.
The servants were gone; the butler had tacitly assumed she would stay the night.
It was clear she wouldn’t be leaving.
Since she was here, she might as well make herself comfortable.
She ladled a bowl of plain porridge and drank it, then stood in the living room, looking upstairs with a troubled sigh.
No guest rooms—every room was a master suite.
Where, then, could she sleep?
She couldn’t possibly sleep on the sofa, could she?
2S darted upstairs with practiced ease, and Sang Wan’s eyes brightened.
After washing her face and brushing her teeth, she went up to the media room.
With the system updated, the big screen displayed all the latest releases—plus countless old favorites, and even a few obscure art films not yet released domestically and unavailable online in high definition.
Sang Wan felt her visit was not in vain.
The lights dimmed; the familiar content rolled across the screen.
Sang Wan sank into the comfortable massage chair and drifted into deep sleep.
…
When Lou Ye opened his eyes, only one thought filled his mind.
He wanted to die.
His original intention was to feign illness and see if he could coax Sang Wan to come.
If she was preoccupied elsewhere, then Lu Jinnian would have no chance to win her back.
But Lou Ye hadn’t expected his body to be both a blessing and a curse.
He loved its efficiency—after two cold showers and dashing into an air-conditioned room, he got sick as planned.
He hated its overzealous response.
Lou Ye couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been ill.
High school?
Or was it middle school?
He had no idea.
But today’s sickness had cost him all the dignity he’d preserved for twenty-six years.
Holding Sang Wan’s hand was his own selfish wish.
But those muddled words—“Be good, A-Ye,” “A-Ye is the best”—how did he utter them?
He had no memory at the time.
But now, as darkness closed in, everything replayed like a film before his eyes.
That moment’s image lingered, vivid and persistent.
Lou Ye wanted nothing more than to vanish.
Shame!
Utter, indescribable shame!
What would Sang Wan think of him?
Would she… mistake him for her own child?
Covering his eyes, Lou Ye understood for the first time what it meant to be outsmarted by his own schemes.
Was this not, in essence, digging his own grave?
He rolled over and sat up—his body weak, drained of strength.
Cursing himself, “You brought this on yourself. Serves you right.”
Lou Ye left the bedroom.
As the classic ending theme played in the media room, Sang Wan opened her eyes, realizing she had fallen asleep.
2S was curled in her arms, purring softly, its little belly rising and falling.
She wondered how Lou Ye was doing.
Sang Wan got up and left, and as she reached the stairway, she saw Lou Ye sitting at the island counter.
“You’re awake? Feeling better?”
Her gentle voice sounded from above.
Lou Ye froze.
He looked up slowly, seeing Sang Wan descending the stairs.
She hadn’t left?
Or was he hallucinating?
If he dug a hole and hid now, would it be too late?
Maybe he should ask Zhou Yu if his lab had any amnesia drugs.
In a flash, countless thoughts raced through his mind.
Sang Wan had already reached him.