Besides that, he beca even more negative and violent.
Later, Chen Yuchen arranged for a psychologist for him, who diagnosed him with mild bipolar disorder.
However, he showed no interest in treatnt and just continued living like this, with a bit of a self-destructive attitude.
His state was worse than the period before Yun Qiluo appeared.
Those most worried about his condition were undoubtedly the friends in his group.
This ti last year, they specifically used the New Year holiday as an excuse to visit the Yan Family to hang out with him.
Because the previous year, when they had visited the Yan Family for a get-together, they could see that Yan Yan was happy, and mistakenly thought he liked celebrating the Spring Festival—he just didn’t have anyone to spend it with before.
But when they went, they couldn’t find him.
The entire villa didn’t have a single light on, astonishingly cold and quiet.
He gave all the servants ti off, even sent Wang Ma and Housekeeper Chen ho.
He was alone, staying in that dark villa, reminiscent of a haunted house.
They couldn’t get inside, nor did they know how he spent that day by himself.
All they knew was he didn’t go to work for a week afterward.
But from that incident, Fan Xinglan and the others vaguely understood.
Maybe Yan Yan liked celebrating the Spring Festival that year, but after that, this holiday... he never wanted to celebrate it again.
Recalling carefully, the most joyful and lively Spring Festival they spent together was the one they spent with Yun Qiluo.
For Yan Yan, the most morable one was probably also that one.
It’s just that the more joyful that day was, the more sorrowful it felt afterward.
Thinking of these past events, Fu Lifei montarily felt too timid to call Yan Yan.
He felt that Yan Yan wouldn’t co.
Even though in the past half year, Yan Yan had occasionally joined their gatherings.
But on a day like the Spring Festival, Fu Lifei always felt Yan Yan wouldn’t co.
After hesitating repeatedly, he still sent Yan Yan a ssage.
[Brother Yan, are you there?]
[Hm?]
Yan Yan hadn’t gone to sleep yet, so he quickly responded.
For the past two years, his routine has beco very erratic, often suffering from insomnia until two or three in the morning.
So he simply worked in the study until he felt sleepy, then returned to the bedroom, holding the pillow Yun Qiluo used to love hugging, to fall asleep.
It was a pink, half-human-high pillow that she loved hugging while napping alone at ho on weekends or when Yan was away on business trips.
Even though two years have passed, and it no longer carries any trace of the young girl.
Fu Lifei quickly asked him: [Brother Yan, it’s New Year’s Eve in a couple of days, a few of us in the group plan to gather, are you coming?]
He continued typing: [It’s at the bar at my place, really close, and it won’t take much ti.]
After sending it, there was no response from the other side for a long ti.
The bedroom lights were off, and the man leaned against the headboard, holding that pink pillow.
Only sunlight stread in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting on his somber and slightly fragile brows and eyes.
He seed like soone who had lived in the abyss of darkness for eons, carrying a whiff of death and decay.
After a while, he lazily lowered his head to type:
Yan Yan: [No, you guys go ahead without .]
Yan Yan: [Which bar? I’ll have soone send the New Year’s gifts over.]
As expected, he refused.
Fu Lifei had already anticipated that he probably wouldn’t join.
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