Noah gazed out the window, the fog thick enough to obscure the view. It was a gray, murky day, and he felt the remnants of a lingering cold. Despite not feeling his best, a craving for steaming hot pot tugged at him.
He tidied his workspace and stood up, preparing to leave. Today, he was alone at home; he had just returned from the supermarket with preserved eggs and lean meat. It seemed the only remedy was a light yet warming meal to satisfy his hunger.
As the pot bubbled, he inhaled the familiar aroma that took him back to his mother's kitchen—salty and hot. A bowl of this comforting dish could instantly envelop him in warmth. His mother always insisted he eat ginger, believing it could drive away the chill and help him recover faster.
Noah finished every last bite, leaning back in his chair, stroking his slightly rounded belly like a contented cat. Snuggling into his warm bed, he shared a restaurant link through an app. After sending it, he closed his eyes, feeling a sense of satisfaction. He disliked leaving things unresolved; it always left him feeling uneasy.
That night passed in dreamless silence.
When he opened his eyes the next morning, he lay for a moment, dazed, before finally reaching for his phone. He noticed a new friend request on Messager, with a verification message that read, "I want to talk to you."
A premonition settled in his stomach—this must be related to Oliver. Without hesitation, he clicked "Agree."
Almost immediately, a message popped up from the other side.
**LoveSunshine:** "You're Noah, right? It's not clear on Messager. Can we meet? It's about Oliver."
The directness of the message surprised him. Noah appreciated that kind of straightforwardness—no long exchanges to get to the point.
**Noah:** "Sure, I'm free today. You can choose the time and place."
**LoveSunshine:** "Great! I assume you just woke up. Let's grab lunch. I'll send the details shortly."
By noon, Noah stood before his closet, filled with a dark sea of suits. Pushing aside the black garments, he found a light khaki coat and a pair of trousers. He admired himself in the full-length mirror; at 1.8 meters tall, the outfit fit him well, the color enhancing his fair complexion.
Checking the traffic conditions, he noted some congestion, but thankfully, the restaurant was easily accessible by subway.
"Hello, do you have a reservation?" the host inquired.
"He's already here. My last name is Brown," Noah replied, following the waiter to the private room.
This was his first time in such an upscale restaurant; with his salary, he either couldn't afford it or felt it was unnecessary.
Inside the room, he was greeted by a man who introduced himself.
"Hello, I'm James."
"Hi, I'm Noah."
James was shorter than Noah, and while not conventionally handsome, his smile was warm and infectious.
Noah lifted the steaming teacup in front of him and took a sip. "I didn't expect you to look even better in person. I'll be direct: I hope you can divorce Oliver."
Noah blinked, caught off guard. "What's the reason?"
"I know you and Oliver are childhood sweethearts, but your marriage has long been a mere formality. I've drafted a divorce agreement for you to consider." He slid the document across the table. "I don't want to hide anything. If the two of you lack feelings for each other, then ending it sooner is better for everyone."
Noah glanced over the agreement, surprised at its terms—he would retain the house and car, plus receive a check for ten million yuan. He hadn't anticipated gaining so much from a loveless marriage.
He couldn't help but marvel at Oliver's generosity.
"I didn't bring a pen," Noah said, a bit incredulous.
James looked surprised. "You're just going to agree like this? I thought you'd negotiate or at least express some reluctance about Oliver."
James rested his chin on his hand, disappointment flickering in his eyes. "I had a whole speech prepared, but it seems it wasn't necessary."
Noah chuckled softly, shaking his head. "This isn't a soap opera, and I'm not that kind of person. Your offer is quite generous; I see no reason to refuse."
He had envisioned this moment many times, wondering if he would be heartbroken at losing Oliver. Would he spiral into despair like he had as a child?
Now, faced with reality, he felt a calmness he hadn't expected. As he signed the agreement, his heart remained steady.
This document likely carried Oliver's consent, but the financial compensation was undoubtedly James's doing.
"Do you think it's worth it?" Noah asked, curiosity piqued.
James considered for a moment before answering seriously. "I believe your youth and love are worth far more than this. Don't worry; I had a lawyer notarize the check."
"I won't be asking for it back. That would be shameless and immoral."
Noah had once felt deeply loved by Oliver, who had always considered his every need, showering him with tenderness and romance.
"Good luck to both of you," Noah said sincerely.
James smiled, his eyes brightening. "Thank you for your blessing. Now, let's order. Do you have any dietary restrictions?"
"No, just go with your preferences."
The dishes arrived quickly, and Noah noted there wasn't a single spicy item. Unbeknownst to him, the waiter had also placed a bowl of warm pear soup beside him.
The meal was delightful; the pear soup was sweet and soothing, and the dishes were exquisite. After finishing, Noah turned to James, curiosity getting the better of him. "This might be a bit abrupt, but are you planning to marry Oliver?"
James looked up from his phone, smiling. "Not at the moment."
Noah was adept at reading emotions, a skill he had honed since childhood. Although James smiled, there was an undertone of mockery he couldn't ignore.
Little did Noah know, if James's family hadn't discovered his closeness with a married man, he wouldn't be confronting Noah now. They permitted James to date, but not to engage in what they deemed unethical behavior.
James didn't care much for societal norms, but familial pressure was hard to ignore, and he had no intention of giving up his relationship just yet.
After the meal, Noah returned home, feeling as if he might float away.
As he looked around his familiar apartment, his gaze fell on the two pairs of slippers by the door. The gray pair would never be worn again.