After Shen Qingyu turned ten, he became quiet in a way that made the Shen family uncomfortable.

Before that, the adults could still say he was young, stubborn, grieving, difficult to teach. They could still sigh and tell one another that children who lost their parents early always carried a few sharp edges. But after ten, Shen Qingyu stopped giving them easy excuses. He no longer smashed cups when someone mentioned his Beta father with contempt. He no longer argued when the adults favoured Shen Jianing. He no longer asked who had moved his books, who had taken his things, who had repeated his private words in distorted form.

He learned to look at everything first. Then decide whether it was worth speaking. Most of the time, it was not.

The Shen family gradually relaxed. They thought Shen Qingyu had finally become sensible.

Only Shen Jianing knew better. Shen Qingyu had not become softer. He had only hidden the blade.

When Shen Qingyu was twelve, the Shen family invited several children from allied families to spend the summer at the ancestral home. The adults called it building relationships. The children called it vacation. For Shen Qingyu, it was the first time in many years that someone his own age looked at him without already having heard the Shen family's preferred version of him.

Among the visiting children was a Beta boy named Han Rui. His family was not as prominent as the Shen family, but his father had business dealings with one of Shen Qingyu's uncles. He was cheerful, talkative, and not particularly sensitive to subtle social currents. On the first day, he found Shen Qingyu sitting beneath the corridor reading a book on ancient architecture.

Han Rui leaned over and asked, "Do you understand this?"

Shen Qingyu glanced at him. "Do you?"

Han Rui was stunned for a moment, then laughed. "No. That's why I asked." He sat down beside him and pointed at the page. "What is this roof called?"

Shen Qingyu looked at him for two seconds. Then he answered.

After that, Han Rui came to find Shen Qingyu every day. He did not mind that Shen Qingyu spoke little, or that Shen Qingyu's face was cold, or that Shen Qingyu corrected him directly when he said something wrong. Once, after being corrected three times in a row, Han Rui scratched his head and said, "You talk sharply, but you're not actually angry."

Shen Qingyu paused. He had never heard someone say that before. Most people heard his tone and decided he was hostile. Han Rui listened to the meaning and realised he was only answering.

Shen Qingyu lowered his eyes to the book. "I'm not angry."

Han Rui grinned. "I know."

For a short while, Shen Qingyu had a friend. It was not dramatic. There were no promises, no grand declarations, no childish vows of brotherhood. Han Rui simply sat beside him, asked questions, shared snacks without making a performance of it, and did not look at him strangely when he refused. That alone was enough.

Then Shen Jianing noticed.

At first, Shen Jianing only watched from a distance. A few days later, he began appearing wherever Han Rui and Shen Qingyu were. When they sat under the corridor, Shen Jianing came with iced plum soup. When they walked to the lotus pond, Shen Jianing happened to be feeding fish nearby. When Han Rui asked Shen Qingyu about architecture, Shen Jianing stood beside them and listened with a gentle smile, occasionally saying, "Qingyu knows so much. I'm not as smart as him."

Han Rui, who had no resistance against gentle people, immediately said, "No, you're also very good."

Shen Jianing lowered his head shyly. "You don't need to comfort me."

"I'm not comforting you."

Shen Qingyu sat beside them and turned a page. His eyes remained on the book, but the words had already blurred. He had seen this pattern too many times.

A few days later, Han Rui came to find Shen Qingyu less often. Not because he suddenly disliked him — that would have been cleaner. Instead, he started dividing his time. Every invitation he brought now carried Shen Jianing's name. "Qingyu, Jianing said there's a small music room in the west courtyard. Let's go see it?" "Qingyu, Jianing wants to play cards. Come with us." "Qingyu, Jianing said you might not like noisy places, so he told me not to bother you. But do you want to come?" Every sentence placed Shen Qingyu at the edge of his own friendship.

Once, Han Rui came to him with an embarrassed expression. "Qingyu, did you say Jianing is pretending to be stupid?"

Shen Qingyu looked up. Han Rui quickly explained that he wasn't blaming him — Shen Jianing hadn't said it directly. He had only seemed sad the day before, and when Han Rui asked what had happened, he'd said perhaps Shen Qingyu disliked him for not being as smart.

Shen Qingyu closed the book. "I didn't say that."

Han Rui looked relieved. "I knew it. I told him you wouldn't say that." Then, with more hesitation: "Did he believe you?"

The hesitation was the answer.

Shen Qingyu looked at him for a long moment. Then he said, "Go play with him."

Han Rui froze. "What?"

"Go," Shen Qingyu said calmly. "If you stay here, he'll be sad again."

Han Rui frowned. "Qingyu, don't say it like that."

"Then how should I say it?"

Han Rui opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Shen Qingyu smiled faintly. At twelve years old, his face had already begun to show the frightening beauty of an Omega nearing adolescence. His features were still youthful, but the coldness in his eyes made people forget to treat him like a child. Han Rui suddenly felt uneasy. He did not understand where that unease came from. He only knew that Shen Qingyu's smile made him feel as if he had done something wrong. But what had he done wrong? He only did not want Jianing to be sad. He only wanted everyone to get along.

Later that summer, Han Rui spent most of his time with Shen Jianing.

On the day he left the Shen house, he came to say goodbye. Shen Qingyu was practising calligraphy, the black ink moving beneath his brush, each stroke steady and sharp. Han Rui stood by the door for a while.

"Qingyu, I'm leaving."

Shen Qingyu did not look up. "Mn."

"I'll come again next time."

"Mn."

"You're not angry, are you?"

The brush paused. Shen Qingyu finally raised his eyes. "Why would I be angry?"

Han Rui could not answer.

"You didn't do anything wrong," Shen Qingyu said lightly.

The words should have been comforting. But Han Rui's face turned red. He left soon after.

Shen Qingyu finished the last stroke on the paper. It was the character 断. To sever. The ink was too heavy at the end; the final stroke cut through. He looked at it for a moment, then crumpled the sheet and threw it away.

That summer, he learned something else. Some people did not betray you because they hated you. Some people drifted away because standing beside you required effort, while standing beside Shen Jianing felt kind. Between effort and kindness, most people chose the easier thing.

By thirteen, Shen Qingyu had become famous within the family for being difficult to approach. This reputation was not entirely false. He was, in fact, difficult to approach. If someone came with sincerity, he doubted it. If someone came with sympathy, he disliked it. If someone came with curiosity, he ignored it.

The Shen family elders sighed over him more than once. "This child's temperament is too cold." "He keeps everything in his heart." "Jianing tries so hard to get close to him, but he refuses every time." "His father was like that too. Too stubborn."

The moment Shen Huaizhi was mentioned, the room would become quiet.

Shen Qingyu's Omega father remained a scar the Shen family disliked touching. To the outside world, they called him unfortunate. In private, some still called him disobedient. Shen Qingyu had once overheard an aunt say, "If Huaizhi had listened to the family back then, would he have ended up like that?" The answer was obvious from her tone. If Shen Huaizhi had not loved a Beta. If Shen Huaizhi had not left. If Shen Huaizhi had not embarrassed the Shen family. If Shen Huaizhi had obeyed. Then perhaps Shen Qingyu would not be standing here as a reminder of his mistake.

From then on, Shen Qingyu rarely mentioned his father's name. Not because he forgot. Because the Shen family did not deserve to hear it.

Xie Linchuan first appeared in Shen Qingyu's life when Shen Qingyu was thirteen. Strictly speaking, they had met before. The Xie family and Shen Qingyu's parents had once been close, and before Shen Huaizhi left the family, the Shen and Xie elders had joked about arranging a marriage between their children. After Shen Qingyu was born, the joke became a verbal agreement. Later, Shen Huaizhi eloped, and the agreement became awkward. After Shen Qingyu's parents died, the Xie family did not mention cancelling it. Perhaps because they still remembered Shen Huaizhi's kindness. Perhaps because they wanted to maintain ties with the Shen direct line. Perhaps because, at that time, Shen Qingyu was still only a child, and no one thought seriously about what the engagement would mean later. So Xie Linchuan became Shen Qingyu's fiancé in the vague, adult-defined way of wealthy families — a name attached to his future, a person he knew existed but rarely saw.

When Xie Linchuan visited the Shen ancestral home that year, he was already seventeen. Tall, handsome, and confident in the way young Alphas from good families often were. He wore a white shirt and dark trousers, his sleeves rolled neatly to the elbows. His smile was bright, and his manners were neither overly warm nor distant. The adults praised him endlessly.

"Linchuan has grown so well." "He already looks like he can take over the Xie family in a few years." "Qingyu, come greet him. You two knew each other when you were little."

Shen Qingyu stood beside the carved screen, his expression calm. At thirteen, he was already taller than most Omega children his age — slender and pale, with delicate bones and clear, bright eyes. He wore a simple light-coloured shirt, his black hair falling softly over his forehead.

Xie Linchuan looked at him and paused. Then he smiled. "Qingyu?"

"Xie-ge."

Xie Linchuan seemed amused by his formality. "We're engaged. You don't need to be so polite."

The room became lightly cheerful at that, several adults laughing. Shen Qingyu's expression did not change.

"We're not familiar," he said.

The laughter stopped. An uncle frowned. "Qingyu."

Xie Linchuan was stunned for half a second, then laughed again. This time, the laugh sounded genuine. "You're right. Then we can become familiar slowly."

Shen Qingyu looked at him. Most people became embarrassed or displeased when he spoke too directly. Xie Linchuan did not. For that reason alone, Shen Qingyu's first impression of him was not bad.

During that visit, Xie Linchuan treated Shen Qingyu naturally. He did not force closeness. He did not pity him. He did not ask whether he missed his parents. He did not say Shen Jianing was gentler. When the adults urged them to walk together in the garden, Xie Linchuan only asked, "Do you want to go?"

"If I say no?"

"Then I'll say you have homework."

Shen Qingyu glanced at him. "It's a useful excuse," Xie Linchuan said.

For the first time in a long while, Shen Qingyu almost smiled. Almost.

They walked through the garden anyway. The Shen family's garden was arranged beautifully: rockeries beside clear water, bamboo shadows falling across white walls, koi moving lazily beneath lotus leaves. Xie Linchuan walked beside him and said, "My parents said your father once helped my mother."

Shen Qingyu stopped.

Xie Linchuan realised he had touched something sensitive. "Sorry."

Shen Qingyu looked at the pond. "What did he do?"

"I don't know the details. My mother only said that if not for your father, she might not have survived a difficult year."

Shen Qingyu's fingers curled slightly. No one in the Shen family spoke of his Omega father that way. They spoke of him as shame, regret, warning. Xie Linchuan spoke of him as someone kind.

After a while, Shen Qingyu said, "He was very good."

Xie Linchuan nodded. "My mother said so too."

That day, Shen Qingyu decided that Xie Linchuan was tolerable. For Shen Qingyu, that was already rare.

For the next two years, Xie Linchuan visited the Shen house several times — sometimes with his parents, sometimes alone. At first, he always came to find Shen Qingyu. He brought books Shen Qingyu might like, sent him notes about schools and competitions and films. Once, when Shen Qingyu mentioned casually that the Shen family's desserts were too sweet, Xie Linchuan remembered and brought him a box of pastries with less sugar the next time.

Shen Qingyu did not become soft because of it. He was still proud, still cold-faced, still quick to speak when he disliked something. But he accepted the pastries. He read the books. He replied to Xie Linchuan's messages, though usually with short sentences.

Xie Linchuan once complained, half joking, "Qingyu, do you charge by the word?"

Shen Qingyu looked up from his book. "You ask too many unnecessary questions."

"Then what counts as necessary?"

Shen Qingyu thought for a moment. "Whether the pastries are still available next week."

Xie Linchuan was stunned. Then he laughed so hard Shen Qingyu frowned. "What are you laughing at?"

"Nothing," Xie Linchuan said, eyes bright. "I'll buy them next week too."

At that time, Shen Qingyu did not like Xie Linchuan in the way people liked lovers. He was still too young. But he accepted that this person might one day stand beside him — not because of romance, but because Xie Linchuan, at the beginning, seemed willing to look at him directly. For Shen Qingyu, that was enough.

Unfortunately, it did not last.