What they didn't realize was that Sang Fan's perceived peace was utterly chilling to any normal person.
Shen Yue's heart stirred. She didn't feel afraid; in fact, she felt a pang of pity for Sang Fan in his current state. It was like a stray dog that had wandered for so long without finding its way home, even though Sang Fan bore no resemblance to a puppy now.
She didn't understand what had happened while she was out, nor did she intend to provoke Sang Fan by bringing up the topic.
Looking into Sang Fan's bloodshot, unhealthy eyes, Shen Yue offered a gentle, comforting smile. "I found a job outside, so I got back late. Are you hungry? I bought two cups of bubble tea, would you like to have something first?"
Sang Fan paused. The girl's gentle and practiced tone made him feel as if they had lived together for a long time, like an old married couple. A faint, tingling sensation bloomed in his heart.
"Okay," he said, slowly calming his ragged breaths and returning to a semblance of normalcy. He then asked casually, "Why did you suddenly decide to look for a job outside?"
Shen Yue had been living in the apartment for almost a week. Whenever Sang Fan returned, he would see the girl obediently sitting on the sofa watching television or busy in the kitchen. Although her cooking was never quite satisfactory, it still gave him a sense of home.
This warm and cozy atmosphere was intoxicating.
So much so that when he returned home that day to an empty, silent apartment, it felt like being doused with a basin of cold water from head to toe in the dead of winter.
The house was empty, the sofa spotlessly clean, and there was no activity in the kitchen. He went to Shen Yue's bedroom; it was so clean and tidy it was as if no one had ever lived there.
He meticulously searched every corner, but still found no trace of her.
Sang Fan stood frozen, trying to search for any lingering trace of Shen Yue.
Suddenly, it was as if someone was sitting on the sofa, wearing loungewear, with a cascade of lustrous black hair falling onto her chest. Her small face was exquisite and beautiful. She held the remote control, and upon seeing him return, she would lift her head, revealing a slightly surprised smile.
Her voice was soft and tender.
"You're back so early?"
Sang Fan's hand, hanging at his side, trembled. In the blink of an eye, the next moment, the person had vanished.
The rigid walls felt like a dark, cold coffin, and he was locked inside. At the brink of death, he thought he saw a sliver of light, only to realize it was his own imagination.
Perhaps there was no Shen Yue at all.
It was midsummer, yet Sang Fan felt a chill penetrate his bones, spreading through his limbs.
At that moment, Sang Fan's heart sent out a warning signal, beating wildly and abnormally. The sudden surge of panic and violence made him want to destroy everything in front of him.
Sang Fan went mad, trashing the living room before rushing into the guest room where Shen Yue had stayed.
The faint scent of the girl still lingered in the room, very faint and light. Sang Fan threw himself onto the bed, his weight making the frame creak, and buried himself in the covers.
That trace of scent momentarily soothed the beastly urges that had long been out of control and on the verge of collapse within him. However, the scent was too faint, and he was quickly unsatisfied.
He gritted his teeth, his eyes blood-red, his face grotesquely distorted by extreme suppression. He messed up the girl's bed, but it still wasn't enough. A painful, confused sound rumbled in his throat.
It wasn't until he heard the girl's voice, soft as spring water, outside the door that a refreshing warmth extinguished the raging inferno in his chest.
Like a dog that had finally found its owner returning home, he rushed out.
He drank the strawberry mochi Shen Yue had bought. He disliked bubble tea, hating the cloyingly sweet sensation that seemed to stick to his throat.
Shen Yue explained softly, "I can't always live here for free, so I found a relatively easy job. I didn't want to trouble you too much."
"It's no trouble!" Sang Fan retorted almost immediately, his sudden raised voice startling Shen Yue.
Sang Fan's hands, hanging at his sides, tightened slightly. His dark eyes observed Shen Yue's reaction with imperceptible tension, and his voice calmed down. "I don't find it troublesome. I, I..."
He didn't finish the rest of his sentence.
Seeing his expression as if he had something difficult to say, Shen Yue's face also darkened, her thin lips pressed tightly together.
She said understandingly, "If you have any difficulties, you can tell me. After all, you've helped me, and I want to help you as much as I can."
Sang Fan looked down at the girl. Her eyes were as clear as a spring, pure and limpid, reflecting his discomposed and disheveled self.
Looking into those eyes, Sang Fan, for some reason, confessed what was on his mind.
"I have insomnia," Sang Fan said, staring at Shen Yue without blinking. The curve of his lips stiffened for a moment before he continued, "I can't sleep. I've seen doctors and taken medication, but it's no use. Because of this inexplicable condition, I almost gave up on the dream I've always pursued."
No wonder, from the moment she saw Sang Fan, his eyes were always shadowed, clearly indicating a lack of sleep.
Shen Yue's eyes showed pity, her smile gentle and accepting. Sang Fan stared blankly, feeling a peculiar warmth spread from his chest. He involuntarily poured out the problem that had troubled him for half a year.
"This condition started after a car accident six months ago. There's no underlying cause. Without sufficient sleep, I can't concentrate. Doctors are helpless. I've seen neurologists and psychologists, but nothing worked. Just as I was about to give up, you appeared."
His tone suddenly shifted, and Shen Yue was taken aback. After a moment, she reacted and looked at Sang Fan. Though still young, he exuded a sense of world-weariness.
His eyelashes drooped, and a low pressure emanated from him. He stiffly forced out the words.
"When you are here, I can sleep."
Having already guessed the reason, Shen Yue wasn't very surprised. She thought, how difficult it must be not to be able to sleep, to be in a constant state of tension. Over time, even a normal person would be driven to madness.
No wonder the young Sang Fan always carried a sense of uncontrolled ferocity.
She sighed, unsure of what she felt, but one emotion was particularly clear: she felt profound pity for the man before her.
So, Shen Yue tiptoed and gently patted Sang Fan's head twice. His hair was slightly coarse and a little prickly.
"You can tell me," she said, her eyes curving upwards. "I'll help you."