Chapter 136 Just a Simple Chat?

The city at night shed the clamor of the day, and the streetlights cast a dim, yellowish glow in the cold evening.

Yin Siyao escorted Zhao Jingshu to the hotel lobby and helped her check in.

Zhao Jingshu looked at Yin Siyao’s hard, angular profile, her fingers lightly gripping the handle of her suitcase.

Earlier at the hotpot restaurant, Leng Keyan’s almost territorial words—and Yin Siyao’s reaction—had served as a warning bell.

She could no longer let things slide slowly.

“Siyao, actually, this trip was also at the urging of both our parents. They really hope we can end up together.”

Looking up, her gaze earnest, she continued, “We’re not getting any younger. It’s the age to think about marriage and family. Our parents are getting older too, always hoping we’ll settle down.”

Zhao Jingshu gently and subtly placed the weight of familial responsibility and traditional expectations in front of Yin Siyao.

Yin Siyao was silent for a few seconds. His voice was low but exceptionally clear and firm: “Jingshu, precisely because I need to consider our parents’ feelings, I need to speak clearly with you.”

“I cannot force myself to marry someone else when my heart already belongs to someone. That would be extremely unfair to you.”

The color drained slightly from Zhao Jingshu’s face, but she maintained a polite smile.

Yet the smile was somewhat forced. “Your heart belongs to someone? Is it Leng Keyan?”

Yin Siyao neither confirmed nor denied.

He simply looked away, gazing at the heavy night beyond the glass doors. His tacit acknowledgment made Zhao Jingshu’s heart sink.

“I understand.”

Taking a step closer, Zhao Jingshu drew nearer to him, summoning a last bit of courage. “Siyao, I’ve liked you since our school days—maybe you never noticed.”

Yin Siyao looked at her, slightly surprised.

“All these years, I’ve been keeping track of you. I knew you got into the best medical school, I knew you became an outstanding doctor.”

Zhao Jingshu’s eyes grew slightly red, but her tone only strengthened. “This trip isn’t entirely because our parents are pushing marriage. I’ve been left with no other choice.”

“The thought of spending my life with someone I don’t know and don’t like terrifies me. If it’s going to be that way, I’d rather come to you and give it a try.”

“At least… I like you.”

So all those holiday greeting messages, those casual chats about changes in her hometown, all hid this long-standing and subtle affection.

“I’m sorry, Jingshu,” Yin Siyao’s voice carried sincere regret. “I didn’t know all this…”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

Zhao Jingshu interrupted him, trying to smile. “Liking you is my own matter. And I don’t mind that your heart is elsewhere right now.”

“I believe feelings can be cultivated. We just haven’t had the chance to spend enough time together. Give me a chance, and give yourself a chance too, alright?”

“During this time, we can try to spend more time together, get to know each other better. Maybe you’ll realize that we’re the perfect match.”

“Jingshu,” Yin Siyao’s tone was steady but carried a near-cruel clarity, “some things are very difficult to change. The order in which things happen… really matters.”

The light in Zhao Jingshu’s eyes dimmed, yet she refused to give up.

Biting her lip, she pulled out her final card: “Uncle and aunt must have told you to take good care of me. Siyao, do you really want to disappoint them?”

“Consider it a mission—accompany me to see the city I live in, so that when I go home, I won’t have to wonder how to report to them.”

Yin Siyao was silent for a moment, then finally sighed in concession. “Alright. During this time, I’ll do my best to host you.”

“But you’d better not make things too difficult for me.”

Zhao Jingshu smiled again. “Siyao, thank you. Don’t feel pressured. Let’s start as friends and take things slowly.”

Stepping back at the right moment, she added a specific request: “Tomorrow after work, could you take me around City A? I heard a few places have really nice night views.”

“Fine.”

Yin Siyao agreed, not wanting to speak more, and turned to leave the hotel.

The winter wind was biting. The hotel was not far from her residence—about a twenty-minute walk.

Yin Siyao walked downstairs, reaching into his pocket for his keys.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a familiar figure curled up on the stone block by the entrance.

He paused, focusing.

Leng Keyan, dressed in a thin down jacket, ears and nose bright red from the cold, chin resting on his knees like an abandoned puppy.

Yin Siyao’s heart skipped a beat, unexpectedly filling with a tender ache and an indescribable flutter.

Why was Leng Keyan here?

How long had he been waiting?

Sensing his gaze, the figure suddenly lifted his head.

Their eyes met.

“Teacher Yin, you’re back.”

Leng Keyan’s voice carried a noticeable nasal tone, either from the cold or something else, full of anxiety and grievance.

Yin Siyao hurried over, brows unconsciously furrowing. “What are you doing here?”

Leng Keyan jumped down from the stone block. His legs were numb from sitting, so he staggered slightly and was instinctively steadied by Yin Siyao.

The cold touch made his frown deepen.

“I messaged you, but you didn’t reply.”

Leng Keyan’s voice was hoarse. He looked down and kicked at a nonexistent pebble.

Quieter now: “I was afraid you’d just go to the hotel with her…”

The latter half of the sentence remained unsaid, but Yin Siyao understood.

He was afraid he had gone to the hotel with Zhao Jingshu.

A wave of emotions—hard to tell if it was annoyance or worry—washed over him. Yin Siyao checked his phone and saw several unread WeChat messages on the lock screen:

[Teacher Yin, are you home yet? [puppy_peeking.jpg]]

[Teacher Yin? [puppy_confused.jpg]]

[Did you take her to the hotel?]

[Yin Siyao, if you don’t reply I’ll make a fuss. [puppy_baring_teeth.jpg]]

The last message was sent half an hour ago.

“Phone was on silent. I didn’t see them.”

Yin Siyao explained briefly, his gaze returning to his red ears and nose.

A hint of reproach crept into his tone: “Being out in the cold at night, what if you catch a cold? Hurry back.”

Leng Keyan, ignoring his reproach, looked up at him without blinking, quietly asking: “You just went to the hotel with her and came back, right?”

From leaving the hotpot restaurant until now, an hour and a half had passed.

An hour and a half—a lot could happen in that time.

Yin Siyao countered: “What else do you think I could do?”

Leng Keyan: “But you… spent an hour and a half with her.”

“Bought her some daily necessities—half an hour. Walking back—half an hour. Talked about a few things—half an hour.”

Leng Keyan pressed: “Just a simple chat?”

“I didn’t go that fast,” Yin Siyao said, slightly annoyed, adding: “By the hotel entrance.”

As soon as he spoke, Leng Keyan’s eyes curved visibly, filling again with sparkling light, as if the cold night had suddenly warmed.

“That’s good…”

Leng Keyan relaxed completely, then belatedly realized the cold, hugging himself and shivering.

“Go back to sleep,” Yin Siyao said, low and gentle in the night air. “Don’t freeze yourself silly.”

Leng Keyan’s heart pounded; for a moment, he forgot to respond, just staring at Yin Siyao’s face so close.

“Did you hear me?”

Seeing no response, Yin Siyao asked again.

“Oh.”

Leng Keyan came back to his senses. His grievance and unease vanished instantly. “Then I’ll go back, and you rest early too.”