Chapter 16

At six in the morning, Zhen Ai slowly opened her eyes to see Yan Su sitting cross-legged on a wooden chair, barefoot, staring at her with unblinking, shallow eyes.

Although it was strange that he had inexplicably come to her room to watch her sleep, Zhen Ai wasn't scared; she rubbed her eyes in confusion.

Yan Su's gaze was subtle, with a hint of imperceptible restlessness as he abruptly said, "You really look terrible while sleeping."

"I thought you meant a warm 'good morning'," Zhen Ai replied generously with a smile.

For some reason, seeing him first thing in the morning made her not want to get out of bed.

On this late winter morning, the sky was still grayish-white, light streaming through the classical European windows. It had snowed again recently, making it feel like dawn came earlier than usual.

A hazy mist condensed on the glass, and a faint glow flickered in the fireplace. In such a warm place, waking up not alone was quite a comforting feeling.

However—

Yan Su's eyes were full of probing light, sharp with assessment: "Waking up naturally this early in winter without work, frowning in your sleep but calm upon waking, as if relieved. You sleep poorly every day and have nightmares. I suggest you see a doctor or a counselor."

"You're so boring!" Zhen Ai glared at him, turning over with a loud motion to face away from him. Out of sight, out of mind.

Yan Su paused, then fell silent.

Zhen Ai curled up under the covers, pouting. Hmph, he ruined all the good feelings!

A few seconds later, he pushed her shoulder with his hand, speaking stiffly: "Hey, it's dawn, lazybones get up!"

Zhen Ai turned her head to glare at him, speechless.

"Oh, when I was a kid, I had a Zhu Bajie alarm clock that called like that," Yan Su explained seriously, his expression cold. "It really lacks aesthetics; how could a pig make a 'chirp chirp lazybones get up' sound like a little bird? It's completely illogical."

Zhen Ai scratched her ear, saying, "Waking up to your profound yet childish words is truly a wonderful start to the day."

"..." Yan Su calmly looked at her, "Is that sarcasm?"

"Smart!"

"...Second sarcasm…"

"Exactly~~~" Zhen Ai turned back around, snuggling deeper into the covers with a slight smile, feeling a bit smug.

He lowered his gaze without changing expression and said, "I was wrong to analyze you earlier."

Zhen Ai held the blanket, not speaking, but her smile couldn't help but rise.

Someone soon got serious again: "But you called me boring."

… So apologies come with conditions.

Zhen Ai pouted, "You are boring by nature. What interesting person would squat by someone's bed like a big dog early in the morning?"

"Big dog? Your descriptive skills are truly pitiful." Yan Su paused for a moment, his face wooden as he said, "I came to tell you I can help you decode the password on that card, so hurry up and tell me what it's for."

Zhen Ai slowly turned to face him, suspiciously scrutinizing his righteous face, and after a while, she suddenly understood. The recent school murder case had just wrapped up, and coincidentally, his other work was done too.

Now, this person, whose mind worked at high speed even while sleeping, could be said to be... incredibly bored.

He must have thought of the password on Zhen Ai's card out of sheer boredom and, adhering to his principle of not decoding mysterious passwords, had awkwardly squatted at her bedside.

Zhen Ai suddenly wanted to tease him, so she smiled understandingly, "Yan Su, you're so nice! But that's my privacy; I can't tell you. If you want to help me, decode it; if not, that's fine. I won't push you."

Yan Su's face turned a shade paler upon hearing this.

He immediately dropped his legs, standing up from the chair, looking down at her with a low pressure, his pupils dark, thin lips pressed together, entirely devoid of the awkward gentleness he had just displayed.

He stared at her for a long time, then uttered a single word: "Insidious."

Having said that, he silently left the room without a sound.

Zhen Ai shrank her neck; she knew her thoughts hadn't escaped his eyes. Ha, that was the effect she wanted—make him awkward.

When Zhen Ai got up and went to the library, she found the top lid of the grand piano had been put away, and there was Yan Su, dressed in white, sitting cross-legged on top of the piano, expressionless as he gazed up at the sky, or more accurately, into the void. Next to him lay a lonely white violin.

Owen stood beside the piano, helplessly looking up at him: "S.A., in the shortest month of the year, you cracked 101 passwords nationwide, plus 17 cases, including 3 serial murders. That's enough…"

"That 'enough' is for those with limited ability," he interrupted Owen's words, looking at the sky with rapid speech.

Owen clenched his fist: "But you need to rest…"

"'Rest' is a word invented for the weak-willed; I don't need it, thank you." He interrupted again.

Suddenly, he turned back fiercely, like an angry lion, almost growling at Owen:

"I need cases; I need passwords. I don't know what your brain is made of, but mine is filled with precision instruments. If it doesn't work for even a day or an hour, it will rust. Rust, do you understand? Owen, give me the passwords, give me the cases!!! I need things to do!"

Owen was taken aback by his rare urgency and quickly suggested: "Didn't Professor Miller invite you to give a lecture at MIT?"

"Not going!" Yan Su flatly refused.

"Why not?"

"I'm not interested in lecturing a room full of people with IQs lower than mine for one or two hours; they won't understand, and I'll get thirsty."

Owen: …

Zhen Ai: …

Owen told himself "don't argue with him" and suggested, "You don't like public speaking, but Professor Miller also suggested having you mentor doctoral students in logic. They're few, high IQ, discussing logic problems with them could be quite challenging, don't you think?"

Yan Su stared at the sky and said word by word: "I detest that group of doctoral students!"

Zhen Ai was puzzled and looked at Owen.

Owen facepalmed: "S.A., they mistook you for a high school student; it's not their fault, and that was years ago."

Zhen Ai fell silent. Many Ph.D. students pursue their degrees later in life, making them relatively older, while someone like Yan Su, who obtained several Ph.D. degrees before turning 20, understandably faced age-related contempt.

Owen continued tirelessly suggesting ways to relieve his good friend's boredom:

"Travel?"

"Too many people."

"Exercise?"

"Ordinary."

"Find friends?"

"None."

"Visit relatives?"

"Boring."

Owen was at his wit's end, looking up at the sky in despair: "Being too smart is truly a curse! After torturing those around him, he finally started torturing himself."

Zhen Ai stood by for a while, puzzled: "Yan Su, why don't you read? You usually…"

"From your position, 23 o'clock direction, G area of the library, the 29th shelf from the bottom, the 35th book from the left, that's the last book I haven't read in this library. Last night at 23:45, I finished it." His voice was low, but it couldn't hide the faint impatience as he sliced through the violin strings randomly, producing a jarring sound akin to sawing wood.

Zhen Ai had a headache but was even more astonished; he had only glanced at her and yet remembered the book's location so clearly. But that wasn't the most surprising part; she glanced at the tall, spacious library and the wall of books, incredulous: "You've read all the books here? How is that possible…"

He suddenly turned to look at her, backlit by the morning sun, his deep eyes like amber in the night, his tone provocative: "Which book do you want to see? I can recite it for you right now."

He was typically elegant and distant, aloof yet graceful, resembling a British gentleman, but now he had a ferocious side that startled Zhen Ai, who instinctively took a small step back.

Owen sighed: "S.A., you read too fast…"

Not waiting for him to finish, Yan Su shot back: "Reading ten lines at a glance isn't my fault." After saying that, his eyes widened in realization, "Sergeant Diaz was right, I am a weirdo."

After a moment of silence, his pupils darkened as he softly said, "Weirdo is unhappy."

He lowered his head and fell silent, sorrowfully drawing the violin. He looked pitiful to the extreme.

Owen shook his head, feeling utterly helpless.

Then Yan Su played a short piece of music before suddenly collapsing on the piano, rolling around in a fit and shouting: "Boring, boring, I'm so bored!"

Zhen Ai blinked; his sudden childlike tantrum was surprisingly… cute. ^__^

Owen paused for a moment, then spoke with a serious tone: "S.A., if you keep throwing tantrums like this, Mozart will be sad."

Zhen Ai was puzzled—what did Mozart have to do with this? Could it be...?

This time, Yan Su fell silent again, completely still. After a while, he gently touched his piano and quietly said, "I'm sorry."

It turned out the piano was named Mozart.

Zhen Ai: …

She walked over, leaned against the piano, and poked his shoulder with her finger. He remained motionless, his voice stiff: "Don't poke me; I'm feeling down."

Zhen Ai smiled slightly: "What's your violin's name?"

The person in front of her still didn't move, but his voice softened: "Elvis."

Zhen Ai rested her chin on her hand, tapping the white piano frame with her fingers. "Yan Su, I heard you can do everything; can you write a concerto for piano and violin?"

He tilted his head slightly, a beam of blue sunlight casting a shadow in his light brown eyes. His gaze was clear and bright, like the autumn sky, directly looking at her, making her heart flutter and her mind go blank.

Then he suddenly leaned in close, wrapping his arm around her neck and giving her a cheek kiss. Zhen Ai felt the warmth of his cheek against hers, a rush of heat spreading through her. His voice, clear and magnetic, whispered in her ear: "You're truly a genius… even if it's just an occasional spark of inspiration."

Zhen Ai didn't register his words, only aware of her face burning up in an instant.

But he quickly released her, and in the next moment, he jumped off the piano and started tuning it.

Owen finally sighed in relief, giving Zhen Ai a thumbs up. She stood in the dappled sunlight beneath the stained glass window, her fair face slightly flushed by the morning light.

Yan Su quickly prepared some blank sheets on the music stand, turning to Zhen Ai, chin raised proudly as he said: "Once I finish this concerto, I'll name it 'To Zhen Ai.'"

Zhen Ai looked up in surprise; he had already turned his head to start tuning, so she couldn't see his face—only the golden halo on his neatly cropped hair in the sunlight.

She knew how pure his intentions were when he said that, but her heart couldn't help but tremble fiercely.