After the Young Master’s Death, He was Kissed by His Mortal Enemy! (BL) - Chapter 27

To say he didn’t miss him would be a lie.

Countless times, in the middle of the night, Ai Ziqing would dream of those small, fleeting moments he’d once shared with Luo Mu.

Sometimes at the welfare home, he would find himself staring into the distance, lost in thought.

But the more he missed him, the more he wanted to push Luo Mu away—especially with the memory of their argument and everything that came before it.

Call it emotional immaturity, or call it stubborn pride—he accepted either judgment.

Ai Ziqing couldn’t bring himself to face someone whose ideals differed so completely from his own.
More than that, he couldn’t face the version of himself who had chosen to walk away back then.

So the first few times Luo Mu came to see him, Ai Ziqing either walked off quickly with a cold expression or locked himself inside the director’s office.

If he didn’t speak, didn’t look into Luo Mu’s eyes—he could pretend it never happened.

He could pretend they’d never crossed paths again. Pretend Luo Mu had never looked back.

After all, he had once been a child with autism. It wasn’t strange that he still didn’t relate to the world like everyone else.

Ai Ziqing’s thoughts spiraled beyond his control. The past and the present—the memories and Luo Mu standing before him—blurred together.

By the time he snapped back to reality, he was already in Luo Mu’s arms.

On this cold and desolate winter night.

His fingers twitched unconsciously. Ai Ziqing blinked in a daze.

His first instinct wasn’t to push Luo Mu away.

…No, it wasn’t even that he didn’t want to push him away.

It was that he longed for that embrace.

It pulled him back to countless moments—when Luo Mu comforted him, when they leaned on each other, seeking warmth in silence.

The sun had long since set. The streetlamp beside them flickered on suddenly, like some kind of signal.

Ai Ziqing closed his eyes and forced the tears back down.

Then, slowly but firmly, he pushed Luo Mu away and took a step back.

“Luo Mu,” he said, lifting his head and working hard to keep his expression as cold as before,
“My answer hasn’t changed.”

“If you’ve already chosen a different path, then don’t turn back now. You left me once, and now you want to come back? It doesn’t work like that.”

“You didn’t come after me then. There’s no reason to come looking for me now… is there?”

Thankfully, the sky was already growing dark. Luo Mu couldn’t see the wetness clinging to his lashes—he could only hear the sharpness in his voice.

Ai Ziqing gave a bitter smile inwardly. He should’ve learned from Luo Mu back then—learned how to cut his losses while there was still time.

Luo Mu was still the same in some ways… and yet, not.

The way he held him still felt the same—like a gust of cold air through an open window on a winter night.

He was still silent. Still looked at him with those deep, unreadable eyes.

But he was no longer the same boy.

Dressed in a sharp suit, he radiated the presence of someone powerful. His neatly styled hair fell slightly over his brow, but did nothing to dull the sharpness of his features.

Luo Mu was now a seasoned, calculating businessman.

And he? He was just the director of a small welfare home on the outskirts of F City.

They no longer walked the same road. So it was best they no longer crossed paths.

He ran a hand casually through his long hair and quickly wiped at his face with his sleeve, then gave Luo Mu a polite, distant smile.

“I have to check on the meals for tonight in the cafeteria. If you’ll excuse me.”

As he left, Ai Ziqing didn’t look back.

He didn’t need to.

He already knew that Luo Mu wouldn’t follow—not this time either.

Just like all those years ago, he would stay rooted in place, watching him leave in silence.

That night after graduation, Ai Ziqing had rushed back to the dormitory in the dead of night—and cried until he couldn’t breathe.

But this time, he didn’t let a single tear fall.

He’d already lived through that pain once. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

They were adults now. Sometimes, silence said everything that needed to be said.

Ai Ziqing didn’t turn back. So he didn’t see the way Luo Mu stood alone under the streetlight.

He missed the look in Luo Mu’s eyes—so complex it was impossible to describe.
He missed the voice that barely escaped his throat, low and broken beyond recognition.

“Ziqing… don’t go.”

——

The hypnosis removal had taken a long time.

At first, Wei Hailan hadn’t realized the gravity of the situation.

But when he discovered that no matter what he did, he couldn’t break through the wall in Shen Ran’s mind—that psychological defense forged by hypnosis—he started to sense something was very wrong.

He was highly skilled in this field. Under normal circumstances, a standard hypnosis session would only require a few questions and some gentle guidance. Within half an hour, the session would be over successfully.

But now, over an hour had passed, and Shen Ran showed no signs of recovering his memories.

Wei Hailan understood clearly: removing hypnosis was, in essence, a mental tug-of-war between himself and whoever had implanted the suggestion in Shen Ran.

What kind of memories could be so heavily guarded?

A fine sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead as he stared at the dazed expression on Shen Ran’s face, unable to hide his concern.

The stalemate dragged on for another thirty minutes.

Finally, Wei Hailan spoke softly, “Alright, Shen Ran. It’s over. You can open your eyes now.”

As he spoke, he snapped his fingers.

Snap!

The sharp sound cut through the silence, and Shen Ran opened his eyes at once—but didn’t move.

His eyes were dull, lifeless, and after a long moment, tears began to fall silently down his cheeks.

Wei Hailan saw it, sighed quietly, and tiptoed out of the room.

As soon as he opened the door, Cheng Yi—who had been waiting outside the entire time—rushed up to him.
“It’s done? How is he?”

“I’ve got a bad feeling about it,” Wei Hailan admitted. “Old Cheng, maybe go sit with him for a bit. The moment he opened his eyes, the tears just started falling… it’s honestly—”

Before he could finish, a gust of wind seemed to sweep past him.

Cheng Yi had already stepped into the room.

“…Really breaks your heart,” Wei Hailan muttered. “But hey, with Cheng Yi around, Shen Ran has someone who cares. No need for me to worry~”

Finishing the words that had been interrupted, he clicked his tongue and walked away with a smug, self-satisfied look—as if he’d just done a noble deed and didn’t need credit for it.

——

Shen Ran had thought he was prepared.

After hearing Ai Ziqing talk about his childhood earlier that day, he’d believed that the forgotten memories must be more sweet than bitter.

But the moment Wei Hailan snapped his fingers, those long-sealed memories came crashing down on him—roaring, chaotic, relentless.

Even with all his mental preparation, Shen Ran still found himself utterly overwhelmed.

Some things were just as he’d imagined. Others… not so much.

It was true that life at Qingshan Welfare Home had been bittersweet, yet beautiful.

From the moment he was born, he had Ai Ziqing and Luo Mu—two figures who were like older brothers.

Even though life at the welfare home was modest, his patched-up clothes and plain meals had never stopped him from being happy.

But all that joy ended the day he was adopted.

One day, just like always, he was happily chasing after Brother Xiao Ai, with Luo Mu walking behind them like a quiet protector.

Then he turned a corner—and saw a young couple standing at the gates of the welfare home.

They looked familiar.

They were the couple from his fragmented memories. The ones he had always believed to be his parents.

They smiled kindly, held his hand gently, and in no time, signed the adoption papers.

He was placed into their car.

Familiar sights flew past the window as the car sped down the road. He pressed his hands against the glass, watching as his Brother Xiao Ai ran behind them, calling his name.

Tears streamed down his cheeks like a broken strand of pearls.

He hadn’t wanted to leave.

That tiny version of Shen Ran had no idea…

Being adopted was not the beginning of a happy new life.

It was the start of a long, dark chapter.