After the Young Master’s Death, He was Kissed by His Mortal Enemy! - Chapter 69

It wasn’t until he was stopped at the gate for a ticket correction that Ai Ziqing finally realized—

He’d gotten off at the wrong station.

K University was closer to the West Station, and he’d taken that route so many times that muscle memory had taken over. Without thinking, he’d exited at the wrong stop.

Memories have a way of sneaking up on you.
And the deeper you fall into them, the more hollow and lost you feel.

But the mistake had already been made. There was no point in beating himself up over it now.

All that mattered was getting out of the station and letting Shen Ran know he was safe.

As he followed the flow of passengers out into the plaza, cold air wrapped around him, and his view suddenly widened into the open night.

It had been years since he’d set foot in K City. The station had clearly been renovated—everything looked so different, he could barely recognize it.

And yet, if he looked closely, he could still find pieces of the past tucked between the changes.

Like that time, on the way back to school, Luo Mu had suddenly come down with a fever, saying nothing. In a panic, Ai Ziqing had dashed straight to the pharmacy on the right side of the station to get medicine.

Or that sweltering summer day when they’d bought overpriced ice cream from the nearby convenience store, discovering it cost three times the usual price.

As these memories surfaced, the corners of Ai Ziqing’s lips lifted slightly without him realizing it.

He hadn’t packed any luggage—not in his rush to book a ticket, not with his heart set on protecting Shen Ran. He came empty-handed, but somehow… he felt light.

He glanced toward the old cobblestone path nearby.
On rainy days, there used to be an old woman selling umbrellas there.

Transparent, long-handled umbrellas.
Fifteen yuan apiece—expensive for such flimsy quality.

Once, they bought just one. They couldn’t afford two. So they shared it.

It wasn’t a great umbrella. It only lasted two or three uses before breaking.
But he remembered that rainy afternoon so clearly.

He had held the umbrella, leaning it slightly toward Luo Mu.
Always toward Luo Mu.

Because he didn’t want him to catch cold.

Luo Mu looked tall and strong—his expression always cold, like nothing could touch him.

But the truth was, Luo Mu’s body was fragile.
He got sick often, and worse, he never said a word about it.

When he fell ill, Ai Ziqing would worry himself sick.

So he’d tilt the umbrella further over Luo Mu’s side, even if it meant getting half-drenched himself.

Now, Ai Ziqing stood quietly at the edge of that same stone path, lost in the memories.

It was winter now, and the skies were clear. Naturally, the old umbrella vendor wasn’t there anymore.

Despite his efforts back then, despite leaning the umbrella as far as he could, Luo Mu had still gotten soaked that day.
He’d ended up with a fever that lasted three days.

And Ziqing had stayed at his side through it all.

Their relationship had always been a little like that umbrella.

No matter how hard he tried to protect it…

The cracks still formed. The distance still grew. The arguments still happened.

A gentle sigh escaped Ai Ziqing’s lips, and a puff of white fog drifted into the winter night air.

All these years later, he had thought through their fallout countless times.

Luo Mu hadn’t been wrong.

Money was essential. It was a truth Ai Ziqing only truly grasped after becoming the director of the welfare home.

He had no right to stop Luo Mu from chasing a better life.
He couldn’t even say he’d been wronged.

But still—he hadn’t been able to accept Luo Mu leaving his side.

That dependency had started when they were young and only deepened over the years—especially with his autism and his naturally quiet world.

He hadn’t noticed it before, but he’d been trapped in a cycle.

Pushing people away.
Getting hurt.
Then pushing them away again.

He had misjudged the cold tonight. By the time he returned to himself, his fingertips were nearly numb.

He pulled out his phone, wanting to call Shen Ran—but the screen stayed black.

It had frozen. Literally.

Holding the cold, unresponsive device in both hands, standing alone in the bustling plaza, Ai Ziqing—for once—felt genuinely lost.

It had been so long since he’d traveled alone that he wasn’t even sure what to do.

He considered asking someone nearby to borrow a phone… but then remembered—he didn’t know Shen Ran’s new number by heart.

And besides…

Tugging self-consciously at a strand of his long, smooth hair, Ai Ziqing mumbled to himself,

“With the way I look… if I randomly approach a stranger to borrow their phone, wouldn’t I just scare them off…?”

So wrapped up in his quiet worries, he didn’t notice that someone had walked up to him.

A man, tall and dressed in black, had been standing before him for some time.

And when a deep, familiar voice suddenly called his name—

Ai Ziqing flinched in surprise.

“Ziqing.”

“…!”

The deep, familiar voice broke through the air.

Ai Ziqing instinctively looked up—and stumbled back a step before he could stop himself.

The person who had been flashing through his memories all evening…

The one he could never forget, yet always pushed away with a cold face…

Luo Mu. Now standing right in front of him.

Luo Mu lowered his head slightly, and in those dark eyes—eyes that now held Ai Ziqing’s reflection—emotions flickered and surged so fast that Ziqing couldn’t even begin to read them.

Maybe it was because he’d been lost in memories of Luo Mu the entire way here.

Or maybe it was because he now stood alone in a city that no longer felt familiar, with a phone that refused to turn on and no real plan for what to do next…

But this time, Ai Ziqing didn’t do what he usually did.

He didn’t scowl.
He didn’t turn and leave without a word.

This time, he stood frozen in place, legs heavy as lead, and the only thing that came out of his mouth was a soft, stunned question:

“Why are you here?”

Luo Mu met his gaze and replied plainly:

“I came to pick you up.”

He lifted his hand, as if to take Ziqing’s luggage from him.

But there was no luggage.

His hand paused midair for a second… then slowly dropped back down.

Ai Ziqing immediately wanted to refuse. He hadn’t planned for this. He wasn’t ready—not mentally, not emotionally—to be this close to Luo Mu again.

“There’s no need. I’ll find a way to contact Ranran. I’ll just—”

“But your phone doesn’t turn on. I saw it earlier. And I doubt you remember his new number, do you?”

Ziqing was speechless.

When had Luo Mu arrived?
How long had he been watching?
He had noticed… all of it?

But Luo Mu was already turning away. A moment later, the headlights of a black Maybach parked nearby blinked on.

“Get in. I’ll call Shen Ran for you. Let’s at least let him know you’re safe—he’s probably worried sick.”

At this point, Ai Ziqing had no way to argue.
He clenched his fists quietly, forcing himself to swallow down the strange tightness in his chest, and followed behind Luo Mu with quick steps.

Luo Mu held open the front passenger door for him.

The truth was… Luo Mu had suspected this from the start. When Shen Ran had forwarded Ai Ziqing’s itinerary to him earlier, he had a gut feeling Ziqing would get off at the wrong station.

Because years ago, when they were in university together, they always used the West Station.

So, Luo Mu had timed it perfectly and waited at the plaza.

And sure enough, he saw Ai Ziqing Walk out—alone.

Now, watching Ai Ziqing fasten his seatbelt in the passenger seat, Luo Mu finally allowed himself to relax.

Thank God he came.

Because if he hadn’t…

Ai Ziqing would’ve been completely alone.

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