Returning to a Promised Drink With the Artist

Only a few steps out, Zixu asked her, "Where are you going?"

"Well," Yujia spun to look at him, hand still holding his, "I was about to ask where you wanted to go. It's your birthday, isn't it? And I figured you needed a break from the villa."

"You know me well," he said, glancing back at the villa they just exited. 

Truthfully, it didn't take much for Yujia to figure this out, she thought. For the longest time, Zixu had been overwhelmed by the work piled on him. His father wanted him to inherit a business, and it was never easy to prepare for that. Rarely did he ever bring up complaints about it all, but she could tell, by the weary smile he wore day-to-day, that it was dragging him down. 

Merchant business wasn't what he wanted to do. It wasn't what he liked. But it was what was expected of him. It was his responsibility; although as much as it was a responsibility, it was a cage.