Chapter (3) Shadows in Pairs (Revised)

Yin Hang glanced at his watch—the meeting was about to start. “Well then, here, this is my card. If you need me, call this number. I have something to attend to, so I’ll be leaving now.”

“Wait, I—” Haishi tried to stop him, but Yin Hang was already swallowed up by the crowd, vanishing from sight.

“Hey! Hey! Hey! What’s wrong? Did you find Mirage?” As soon as Obsidian returned, he saw Haishi sitting on the sofa in a daze.

Haishi turned his head stiffly to look at Obsidian, his shoulders slumped in utter dejection. Obsidian was just about to comfort him when Haishi spoke, “I—I found Mirage.”

Wait, what? Just like that? Then why the long face? Obsidian felt a headache coming on. “If you’ve found him, what are you planning to do next?”

Haishi replied, “I don’t know. I just wanted to find him.” He really hadn’t thought about what to do after finding Mirage.

Obsidian collapsed onto the sofa and closed his eyes. “Have you confirmed it?”

“Not exactly, but he looks exactly the same.”

“Then go confirm it first.”

…

Haishi, holding the business card Yin Hang had given him, stood hesitantly in front of a tall building. After a moment’s hesitation, he decided to go in.

“Excuse me, sir, who are you here to see?” the receptionist asked, stopping Haishi.

He handed her a card. She was surprised—it was President Yin’s personal card. Could this be a friend of President Yin? With that in mind, she led Haishi to Yin Hang’s office. “Alright, please wait here. President Yin will be back once he’s done.”

Haishi agreed and found a seat. Before he knew it, he’d fallen asleep.

Yin Hang had just returned from abroad and was working around the clock. He strode in, massaging his brow. Was he going mad? Why had he started this company in the first place? Such endless trouble.

“President Yin, there’s someone waiting for you in your office.”

Yin Hang was puzzled. “Who?”

“He’s holding your personal card, so I let him wait for you in your office.”

“Alright, I’ll go see him now,” Yin Hang replied.

Inside, Haishi was fast asleep. Yin Hang couldn’t help but laugh and cry at the sight. He should have thrown this rude intruder out, but his exhausted mind relaxed at the sight of the sleeping figure.

Yin Hang sat on the sofa beside Haishi and began dealing with some paperwork, quietly waiting for him to wake.

Haishi awoke with a satisfied yawn, all his recent fatigue gone. He stared blankly at Yin Hang, and his stomach rumbled loudly in the quiet office.

Yin Hang couldn’t help but laugh. Haishi still looked lost, and then, acting in a way he never usually would, he walked over, sat on Yin Hang’s lap, wrapped his arms around Yin Hang’s neck, and leaned close to his ear, his voice husky from sleep, “I’m hungry.”

With that, he bit Yin Hang’s ear—actually bit him. If Yin Hang hadn’t reacted quickly, his ear might have been ruined.

Yin Hang restrained Haishi’s struggling. Haishi’s gaze was still dazed, but he was stubborn as ever.

Yin Hang, displeased, said sternly, “Get off!” His ear was almost bitten off, and he found it impossible to muster any interest in someone he’d only met twice.

Haishi pouted. “I don’t want to!”

“I said, get off.”

“I won’t!”

Neither noticed how childish their exchange sounded, like a pair of squabbling children.

Faced with Haishi’s persistent glare, Yin Hang finally surrendered, raising both hands in defeat. “Fine, fine, you win, okay?”

The confused Haishi beamed, his smile so genuine that it took Yin Hang aback for a moment. “Good boy!” Haishi chirped, planting a kiss on Yin Hang’s cheek.

The room fell silent. Realizing what he’d just done, Haishi froze, his face flushing scarlet. He stuttered, “Th-that, you, I…”

Flustered, he tried to clamber off Yin Hang, who raised an eyebrow, instantly understanding what had happened. He pinned Haishi in place. “What, you’re not going to continue?”

Yin Hang’s face drew closer and closer, and Haishi’s heart pounded wildly in his chest. “Mir—Mirage…”

Mirage? Yin Hang stopped. Haishi, snapping back to his senses, shoved him away, tumbling to the floor. Ignoring Yin Hang’s expression, he bolted, teleporting straight back to Obsidian’s apartment.

Haishi closed the door and slid to the ground, helpless. What on earth was he doing?

Yin Hang instinctively chased after him, but as soon as he opened the door, the person who had been there moments before was gone. If it weren’t for the lingering throbbing in his ear, he might have thought he’d imagined it all from exhaustion.

Mirage? So he’d been mistaken for someone else? And after only two meetings? Yin Hang let out a cold laugh and tried to return to his work, but the irritation wouldn’t leave him. He threw his files aside in frustration—it truly was a mess.

These past few days, aside from helping to search for someone, Obsidian also made time to revisit the places that stood out in his memory. He went to where his life began—a maternity ward in a hospital.

The director told him that whoever abandoned him had left a note with his date and place of birth. Obsidian had wanted to visit for a long time but never had the chance until now.

Standing by the brightly lit doors of an operating room, Obsidian quietly listened to a new mother’s cries, her pain, then the newborn’s wails, followed by the mother’s relieved laughter and the family’s joy.

Watching this, Obsidian couldn’t help but imagine whether, when he was born, someone had also eagerly awaited his arrival with such happiness.

He loved children’s eyes—so pure and clear, untouched by any trace of desire, so that anyone gazing into them felt cleansed.

Obsidian stopped, and the footsteps behind him halted too. The person following made no attempt to hide it, which only irritated Obsidian. “How long do you plan to follow me?”

Yama, utterly unembarrassed at being caught, replied calmly, “Until you go home.”

Obsidian’s mouth twitched. How could anyone be so shameless?

After leaving his birthplace, Obsidian wanted to see other places too—the orphanage that took him in, the kindergarten, elementary, middle, and high schools, the university…

He vaguely remembered being bullied in kindergarten by older kids, hiding in a corner to cry. The kitchen matron would always find him, gather him in her arms, and sing lullabies until he stopped crying, then carry him back to his room. When he woke, there would always be a candy hidden by his pillow…

He recalled, too, how in elementary school, someone mocked him for being parentless. He’d gotten into a fight and was punished to stand in the hallway…

In middle school, his personality gradually grew colder, and he drifted from the little cliques, finding it all so boring that he quietly skipped a grade…

His memories of high school and university were vague, with little to recall, but now, for some reason, all the small details he’d overlooked were magnifying in his mind…

Obsidian revisited every place in this world where he’d left a mark, only to find that nothing here could truly hold him. He was, and always had been, utterly alone.

Night fell. The path lights flickered. The two figures’ shadows drew close, drifted apart, then intertwined—like a cord binding them together.

Lost in thought, Obsidian fumbled with his keys, nervous for no reason, even though no one was rushing him. It took him an age to open the door.

With a click, the door opened. Obsidian strode into his room, leaving Yama alone in the living room, his gaze unreadable.