Xing Yu did a double take, his brows shooting up. "What did you say?"
"Can I crash at your place?" the boy replied calmly, though his eyes flickered with something unspoken.
Xing Yu shook his head, confused. "No, I'm dropping you off at your parents."
"Please… I… forget it. If you don't want to take me to your home, just drop me off here." The young man sighed, his shoulders slumping as the spark in his eyes dimmed a little. He looked defeated, like he'd already given up.
"Did you run away from home?" Xing Yu asked, his voice soft, almost gentle.
The boy glanced at him. "You could say that… Just drop me here." His hand moved to the door handle, ready to step out.
"Don't stop," Xing Yu told the driver, his tone firm. He didn't want to take the boy home, but he couldn't just leave him in the middle of nowhere. "Just for the night. After that, I'm sending you straight to the Wangs."
Jian looked at him and smiled faintly. "You treat me like I'm a plague," he said, half-joking, though there was a tiny hint of insecurity in his voice. He adjusted his dirty cuff and sat on the edge of the seat, careful not to mess up the clean white leather.
Xing Yu didn't reply, his silence saying enough.
The car drove smoothly through the quiet streets. It was late, and the roads were empty. Jian watched as they pulled up to a familiar apartment building. He squinted at the small ten-story complex. A few balconies had clothes hanging out to dry. It wasn't fancy—nothing like the Wang house.
"You live here?" Jian asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.
Xing Yu was already out of the car, walking toward the building with quick, confident steps. Jian hurried after him, trailing behind like a little duckling. Xing Yu glanced back, a small smile tugging at his lips as he noticed the boy following so closely.
The apartment was on the fifth floor. Xing Yu opened the door and flipped on the light. "Slippers are in there," he said, pointing to a cabinet in the corner. "Make yourself at home."
He walked over to the sofa and plopped down, looking completely worn out. Being a general had been tough, but being a businessman was even worse. Meetings, politics, and all the nonsense that came with it—it was exhausting. And his mission to find the lost prince? Still nowhere close. He'd searched everywhere, but the boy was like a ghost.
With a sigh, Xing Yu pulled off his tie and tossed it aside.
Suddenly, Jian was standing in front of him.
Xing Yu opened his eyes lazily. "The bathroom's that way. Take a bath and sleep. I'll drop you off tomorrow after breakfast."
Jian shifted his feet, looking uneasy.
"What is it?" Xing Yu asked, raising an eyebrow.
"There's only one bedroom," Jian whispered, his voice barely audible.
"Yeah," Xing Yu said simply. "Get to bed."
Jian shook his head. "Where will you sleep?"
Xing Yu patted the sofa. "Any more questions?"
The boy hesitated. "I can sleep on the sofa."
"No," Xing Yu said, cutting him off. He stood up and gently pushed Jian toward the bedroom. "Take a bath and sleep. Don't bother me anymore."
Jian stared at him, confused. He'd thought Xing Yu lived in some big, fancy place with plenty of rooms. But this guy only had one bedroom, and he was giving it up for him. The guilt started to creep in.
He bit his lip, glancing at the bedroom and then back at Xing Yu, who had already flopped back onto the sofa. *Maybe I shouldn't have come here,* Jian thought. *I could've slept outside. I'm just bothering him.*
As if reading his mind, Xing Yu opened his eyes and gave him a sharp look. "What are you standing there for? Go clean up and rest." His voice was firm, like a commander giving orders.
Jian straightened up instantly. "Y-yes," he stammered, awkwardly shuffling into the room and closing the door behind him.
'He's scaryyyyy…'