Three Parts Attachment

He found Shen Zhi's Weibo and followed her.

Hearing An Shu’s voice, Shen Zhi didn’t rush to open the door. Instead, she sat up from the bed and called out loudly toward the door, “What’s up?”

“Brought you dinner,” came An Shu’s deep, cello-like voice from outside.

Upon hearing that mellow tone, Shen Zhi’s first instinct was to check her appearance.

But the only mirror in her room was a small one in the bathroom. She walked over to take a look, but since the lights were off, she couldn’t see clearly. She could only make out the vague outline of her reflection before realizing—she should probably turn on the lights first.

She hurried back to do so, but worried An Shu might get impatient waiting, she only gave herself a quick once-over. Once she confirmed there was nothing visibly embarrassing on her face, she rushed to open the door.

The moment she opened it, she saw An Shu standing there, holding a lunchbox in his left hand, his right hand tucked casually into the pocket of his black jacket.

He stood alone in the shadows outside her door, head tilted slightly, gazing toward the streetlights behind her building. In the dusk, his tall, straight figure seemed to merge with the poplar tree behind him.

Seeing him there, Shen Zhi suddenly felt a little awkward. She gave a sheepish smile and said, “You… brought me dinner?”

The moment the words left her mouth, she regretted them. Obviously, he brought her dinner—what a dumb thing to say.

Still, even though she was clearly making small talk, An Shu responded patiently, “Yeah.”

His expression remained calm and distant, and Shen Zhi didn’t know what else to say. After a beat, she asked, “Do you want to come in, or...?”

An Shu didn’t reply right away. Instead, he lowered his gaze to look at her.

His dark eyes were like ink—deep and unreadable. Shen Zhi couldn’t tell what he was thinking, so she braced herself and said, “Well, come in then.”

Without hesitation, An Shu stepped inside with the lunchbox.

This was technically his second time in Shen Zhi’s room—the last time had been to help her find a charger. But this time, he finally had the chance to take a proper look around.

It was a small space, but everything necessary was there. Not much different from his own room.

He gave the room a cursory glance before focusing on the round wooden table in the corner. He walked over, placed the lunchbox down, opened the lid, and gestured for Shen Zhi to come eat.

Shen Zhi followed his lead like a passenger being guided through a routine. Seeing his hand gesture, she walked over, pulled up a small stool, and obediently sat down.

Her attention only snapped back to the present when she saw the food inside the container.

There were three dishes—not many—but none of them had lamb. Only someone who really knew Shen Zhi would know she didn’t like lamb, though it was common in most meat dishes in the northwest.

She said nothing, just softly murmured, “Thank you.”

Then she picked up the disposable chopsticks and started to eat.

She thought An Shu would leave after delivering the food. But to her surprise, he grabbed the nearby stool and sat down directly across from her.

An Shu was already much taller than her, and now, even while seated, she had to look up to meet his gaze.

Just as she took her first bite, she looked up and saw his handsome face staring right at her.

Shen Zhi: “…”

Shen Zhi: “Do you… still need something?”

An Shu lifted his gaze slightly, looking down at her. In a deep voice, he said, “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

“Oh, well… just say it now,” she replied straightforwardly.

But An Shu said, “It can wait. Finish eating first.”

Seeing he was in no rush, Shen Zhi nodded. “Okay.”

Still, no matter how composed she tried to be, she couldn’t ignore the fact that An Shu was watching her so intently.

In fact, for as long as she was eating, he was watching.

Even Shen Zhi’s usually steady nerves couldn’t withstand it. She finally put down her chopsticks and said, “If there’s something you need to say, just say it. You're staring at me like that—I can’t eat.”

At that, An Shu’s lips pressed into a straight line, his jaw tightening, his gaze becoming even more intense. Shen Zhi couldn’t tell if it was her imagination, but he seemed… a little angry.

She put her chopsticks down and stared back at him.

And that was when she realized—he wasn’t just looking in her direction. He was staring right at her. His sharp, cold gaze didn’t soften even under the warm overhead light.

In the silence that followed, the air felt heavy. Shen Zhi instinctively held her breath, her fingers curling slightly.

Finally, An Shu spoke: “It’s about Gu Yang.”

The mention of that name made her tense fingers relax and her breath return to normal.

“Oh, him. Didn’t you already tell me about that?

“He’s been trying to apologize, but never found the chance.”

When she heard the word apologize, a faint smile appeared on Shen Zhi’s makeup-free, fair face. She looked at An Shu with a smile and said, “He wants to apologize to me?”

An Shu hadn’t taken his eyes off her the entire time. When he saw her smile, his tense expression finally relaxed.

“Yeah,” he said in his deep voice.

“Then why hasn’t he said it himself?” she asked, puzzled. “Isn’t it more sincere to apologize in person?”

An Shu’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Every time he tries, you ignore him.”

“…”

That made Shen Zhi immediately look down.

“I’ll accept his apology,” she said easily. She was reasonable, after all.

“Let him tell you himself.”

“Okay.”

Thinking the conversation was over, Shen Zhi reached for her chopsticks to resume eating—only to see An Shu pull out his phone.

“I actually came not just for that. "There’s this, too.” He held the screen out to her.

Shen Zhi looked at it casually—and instantly lost her appetite.

It was a screenshot of the Weibo post she had made earlier.

She clearly remembered deleting it. She never expected An Shu not only saw it, but saved a screenshot.

Caught red-handed, she could only give a sheepish smile. “Uh… that was just something I posted randomly.”

“Really, I was just messing around. And I deleted it right after. You can check.”

While An Shu wasn’t paying attention, she snatched the phone from his hand, opened Weibo, and pulled up her profile. Sure enough, the post was gone.

She held the screen up to show him. An Shu took one look, then calmly reached out and took the phone back.

But as he did, his warm hand closed around her pale, delicate fingers.

The sudden touch made Shen Zhi jump, and she instinctively let go of the phone.

Fortunately, An Shu caught it just in time.

He looked down at her profile again, and with a flick of his thumb, followed her.

Shen Zhi saw it.

She hadn’t expected him to follow her.

She opened her mouth, wanting to say something—but couldn’t find the words.

After a brief pause, she looked back up and said a little louder, “It was really just a joke. I wasn’t complaining.”

As if worried he might still misunderstand, she added, “Really—I’ll take the tasks seriously from now on.”

An Shu didn’t answer right away. He simply slipped his phone back into his pocket.

Then, his eyes narrowed slightly, he looked at Shen Zhi and gave a faint, silent smile. As his hand moved back into his jacket, his fingers brushed lightly against her hair.

Then she heard his deep, smooth voice close to her ear:

“Mm. I believe you.”