Trending topic alert: The mysterious fan site administrator of a top celebrity has been exposed.

Xu Yang first took Zhou Ai to his usual private styling studio. Ever since hearing that "playing hard to get" analysis in the car, Zhou Ai seemed to have lost all her energy, listless and without any desire to speak, surrounded by a low-pressure atmosphere.

He was led to a comfortable barber chair, where he closed his eyes and let the hairdresser and assistant bustle around him, like a delicate doll without a soul.

"Brother Zhou, which color do you want to try this time? Or maybe just touch up your roots? We recently got some really nice gray tones..."

Hairstylist Tony asked questions familiarly, while fiddling with his signature silver hair, the roots of which were already showing obvious black.

Upon hearing this, Zhou Ai slowly opened her eyes, her gaze somewhat blank as she stared at the huge mirror opposite her.

The mirror reflected a flawless face. The skin was a cool-toned white, and due to days of fatigue and recent recovery, it even had a fragile pallor. The facial features were sharply defined, with prominent brow bones, a high nose bridge, and a clear, sharp jawline.

But those peach blossom eyes, which always carried a hint of nonchalant smile or languid teasing, seemed somewhat quiet at this moment, with an unshakeable melancholy and a trace of barely perceptible unease hidden in their depths.

The originally striking silver hair appeared somewhat mottled due to the new black hair, which added a touch of unruly decadence.

Zhou Ai calmly raised her eyes and stared at her reflection in the mirror for a few seconds before speaking in a flat voice.

"Just cut my hair short and dye it black."

Upon hearing this, not only Tony was stunned, but even Xu Yang, who was scrolling through his phone next to him, looked up in surprise.

Dye it black? Cut it short? Since his debut, Zhou Ai has never been low-key about his hair color, switching between various light colors, and silver hair has almost become one of his trademarks.

This sudden change to dyeing it back to black and cutting it short is just...

My heart has been broken by love...

Tony subconsciously turned to look at Xu Yang, his eyes asking: What's gotten into this guy? Is he alright?

Xu Yang looked at Zhou Ai's expressionless yet unusually persistent expression, sighed inwardly, and ultimately said nothing. He simply closed his eyes, nodded slightly to Tony, indicating: Do as he says, let him do as he pleases.

Having received approval, Tony, though full of doubts, still acted professionally.

Washing, cutting, blow-drying, dyeing... Zhou Ai kept her eyes closed throughout the process, as if she were asleep, or as if she was processing some emotions on her own.

When the final styling was completed, Tony showed him the effect of the back of his head in the mirror, and Zhou Ai opened his eyes again to look at his brand new self.

A neat head of short black hair replaced her original silver hair, cut to above her ears, making her look refreshing and crisp.

His short black hair further accentuated his fair skin and delicate features, as if all attention was focused on his already outstanding appearance.

The slight "trendy" and "idol" feel brought about by the hair color has been greatly weakened, replaced by a more primitive and sharper wildness, as if some kind of disguise has been torn off, revealing a sharper and more unruly essence inside.

His black hair made the aloofness and aggression between his brows seem even more pronounced, and once his eyes darkened, they carried a somewhat imposing aura.

But strangely enough, perhaps because he lost the flamboyance of his light-colored hair, or perhaps because his short hair made him look more "well-behaved," at first glance, he actually seemed a little more "well-behaved" than when he had silver hair.

Although this "docility" is more like the illusion of a dormant beast sheathing its claws, the untamed wildness still surges beneath.

Zhou Ai looked at her familiar yet unfamiliar reflection in the mirror, raised her hand to touch the scratchy back of her neck, her eyes filled with complex emotions. In the end, she made no comment, simply saying, "Thanks."

He remained silent throughout the entire process, and the emotions hidden in his eyes, which had turned completely black again, were even more unpredictable than before.

After getting into the car, Zhou Ai took out her phone again. Actually, there were many unread messages on her phone, but... none of them were about Chu Yi.

"Brother, do you think the phone might be broken?"

Hearing Zhou Ai's rare "Brother," Xu Yang's hair stood on end.

With a "ding," a message sent by Xu Yang appeared on Zhou Ai's phone screen.

"Looks like it's not broken."

Zhou Ai: ".........."

Chu Yi forced herself to pull her attention away from that inexplicable sense of emptiness.

He carefully removed the cast from his leg, which he could temporarily remove while showering, but he had to avoid putting weight on it. Then, he hopped on one leg and moved with great difficulty into the bathroom, completing what could be described as a challenging wash.

After the brief relaxation brought by the hot water rinse, returning to the living room and looking at the empty and quiet house, that feeling of disorientation quietly returned.

Chu Yi glanced at the two large suitcases that hadn't been unpacked yet by the door, as if she had found a temporary refuge.

After re-secured the cast, I hopped over on one leg again, and with some effort, I managed to lay the suitcase down. I then sat down on the ground, took a deep breath, and unzipped the suitcase.

What comes into view are neatly folded clothes, clearly categorized and meticulously arranged—the work of Zhou Ai.

The night before his departure, Zhou Ai helped him pack his luggage. Every folded piece of clothing seemed to still retain the warmth of that person's fingertips and that unspoken tenderness.

Memories flooded back like a tide: the firelight in the cave, the starry sky over the field ridges, that sudden kiss, and Zhou Ai's heavy yet resolute breathing as she carried him on her back...

Chu Yi slammed his suitcase shut, making a loud noise. A nameless irritation and self-loathing welled up inside him, and he simply gave up and lay back down on the soft carpet, closing his eyes and trying to banish the chaotic images from his mind.

However, absolute silence amplifies the inner turmoil.

It's so quiet here.

Unlike the nights in the mountainous areas of Guizhou, where there are always unknown insect chirps, faint wind sounds, or occasional subtle noises from the neighbors, this place is different.

The Blue Lake Apartments are very soundproof; it's so quiet you can hear your own blood flowing and your heart beating—a deathly silence that's almost suffocating.

Just as Chu Yi was feeling suffocated by the silence, his phone, which he had casually tossed on the coffee table, suddenly started ringing repeatedly.

Ding-dong-

Ding-dong-

The crisp notification sound seemed particularly abrupt, even somewhat jarring, in the room where you could hear a pin drop.

Chu Yi, who was lying on the carpet, suddenly opened his eyes. The dazzling light from the chandelier made him feel a little dizzy.

My heart felt like it was being gripped by that sudden sound, and then it started pounding wildly and uncontrollably.

A sudden, strong intuition struck Chu Yi: the person who sent the message might be Zhou Ai.

The thought made him gasp for breath. Almost frantically, he propped himself up, leaning against the armrest of the single sofa next to him, and struggled to stand up on one leg. He hopped to the coffee table and grabbed his phone.

He unlocked the screen, and in the WeChat notification bar, next to that familiar profile picture he had unconsciously clicked on countless times that day, lay several unread messages.

His heart pounded in his ears, even more violently than before. Chu Yi's fingertips even trembled slightly as he carefully tapped the red notification.

Messages kept popping up.

[Zhou Ai: Are you home yet?]

Following this is a cartoon puppy emoji with a wide grin and a frantic tail wagging.

[Zhou Ai: Have you eaten?]

Another jpg of an expectant puppy with bright, sparkling eyes and a wagging tail.

[Zhou Ai: How's your foot?]

This time, the accompanying image is of a limping puppy with droopy ears, one leg wrapped in bandages, and pitiful eyes.

A series of messages, accompanied by dog ​​emojis that were completely opposite to his usual cool and aloof image and even a bit clumsy and cute, all rushed into Chu Yi's sight.

Meanwhile, Zhou Ai, the sender of the message, was sprawled out on a sofa in another upscale apartment in Beijing, completely unconcerned about her appearance. Her newly dyed black hair still carried a faint scent of hair dye.

After getting his hair done and returning home, he did everything he could, even pretending to be in a great mood and making the longest phone call he'd ever made to his mother overseas. Towards the end, his mother thought he'd suffered some kind of mental shock.

Zhou Ai ultimately couldn't overcome the torment and worry in her heart.

Forget about playing hard to get, forget about staying calm and composed, screw it!

After Xu Yang's analysis went through a hundred and eighty turns in his mind, it finally came down to one sentence: Let the earth explode! As long as Chu Yi replies, I don't care about losing face!

So, with an almost tragic feeling, he edited and revised the message, finally adding a puppy emoji that he had secretly saved for a long time, thinking it might ease the tension, before sending it out.

After sending the message, he tossed his phone, which felt like a hot potato, to the other side of the sofa, buried his face in a soft cushion, and looked like a prisoner awaiting final judgment, his ears perked up, trying to catch any possible notification sound.

Chu Yi stared at the three silly yet cautious messages on the screen, her finger hovering above the screen for a few seconds.

The anxiety and emptiness I felt from waiting were strangely soothed by these messages and the adorable puppy's expression.

He considered it for a moment, then tapped his finger lightly, replying politely, just like his usual calm and composed style:

【Yes, we've arrived.】

【have eaten.】

It's alright, no need to worry.

Each reply corresponds to Zhou Ai's question, concise, objective, and without any unnecessary emotional expression, as if it were simply a necessary confirmation of information.

However, as soon as the message was successfully sent, the top of the chat interface immediately displayed "The other party is typing...".

Almost immediately, a new image popped up.

It was a selfie sent by Zhou Ai.

In the photo, he appears to be leaning against a sofa, with a blurred home environment in the background. He has his head slightly tilted to the side, and the camera is very close, clearly showing his new hairstyle—neat, short black hair, clean and refreshing.

His jet-black hair made his skin appear even paler, amplifying the advantages of his features: prominent brow bones, a high and straight nose, and a clear and sharp jawline.

Those peach blossom eyes stared directly at the camera. Perhaps because they had just dyed their hair and were still a little tired, their eyes didn't have the usual laziness or provocation. Instead, they had a rare cleanliness and... a hint of barely perceptible expectation?

Like a puppy that's gotten a new haircut and can't wait to show it to someone important?

Chu Yi stared at the photo, her fingertips pausing slightly, her breath catching in her throat almost imperceptibly.

That head of black hair... suddenly opened the floodgates of his memory.

For no apparent reason, he recalled the scene of his first meeting with Zhou Ai.

It wasn't on a glamorous stage, nor at a lavish banquet.

It was at sunset in Florence, Italy, on an old street full of Renaissance atmosphere, with the golden glow of the setting sun shining on the cobblestones.

Chu Yi had just rushed over from London that morning to help her mentor at an academic conference in Florence.

After the meeting, he wore a formal white shirt, his suit jacket collar casually pulled up, and walked alone along the stone path bathed in the setting sun, indifferently following the flow of people. His taciturn demeanor was completely out of place with the enthusiastic and unrestrained atmosphere around him.

Suddenly, a burst of powerful and infectious electronic music, mixed with rousing guitar sounds, exploded through the street, instantly attracting everyone's attention.

Chu Yi looked in the direction of the sound and saw a boy with an Asian face, wearing a simple black T-shirt and ripped jeans, carrying a portable electronic piano and an electric guitar, playing by himself on the street corner.

That person was Zhou Ai, who was eighteen years old.

He had short, black hair, each strand distinct, which swayed slightly as he played with great focus.

The setting sun outlined the sharp profile of his young face, and sweat dripped from his forehead, but he didn't care. He was completely immersed in the world of music, his fingers flying across the keys and strings, each note full of vibrant life and unrestrained exuberance.

His confidence, brilliance, and even somewhat reckless youthful spirit, like a beam of light cleaving through the twilight, instantly captivated Chu Yi, who happened to be passing by.

Chu Yi held the suit jacket in the crook of his arm and stood quietly behind a group of cheering foreign tourists who were ignited by the music. Through the bustling crowd, he watched the black-haired boy who seemed to be shining, until the performance ended and thunderous applause erupted.

That moment of attraction came unexpectedly, yet it was crystal clear.

At this moment, looking at this black-haired selfie on the phone screen, it's as if time has turned back. The confident and flamboyant young man under the Florentine sunset and the Zhou Ai in front of him, who would send him puppy emojis and cautiously probe because of his proper reply, slowly overlap.

My heart felt as if it had been gently bumped by something, sending a belated, bittersweet ripple through it.

Chu Yi stared at the photo for a long time, so long that the screen automatically turned off. He took a deep breath, turned the screen back on, hesitated for a long time in the chat box, but ultimately didn't reply. He simply saved the photo silently.