Chapter 22 Couple portrait

Xi Qing had been deeply troubled lately, to the point where white hairs had started sprouting.

On one hand, she was baffled—how could Jing Zhengxuan like men? When did this start? Was there someone he liked now?

On the other hand, she was deeply worried about his future. The child had always been stubborn, and with this orientation on top of it, the road ahead seemed bleak.

For his sake, until everything was clear, Xi Qing didn’t dare breathe a word to the family—she hadn’t even told Jing Zhengxuan’s father.

To sort out her thoughts and ease her worries, she could only turn to Huaimo for a chat.

The Jing and Huai families had always been close, and Xi Qing and Huaimo had long been kindred spirits. She knew Huaimo wouldn’t discriminate against homosexuality.

After several heart-to-heart conversations, Xi Qing came up with a plan.

First, she sent someone to investigate, but the information she got was limited—mostly hearsay and gossip, utterly unreliable.

Some said Jing Zhengxuan and Huaixu used their childhood friendship as a cover, when in reality they were gay lovers?

Impossible!

If she didn’t know her own son, she at least knew Huaixu.

That child didn’t even understand what love was, let alone how to be in a relationship. How could he possibly be gay?!

But if Jing Zhengxuan liked someone or was dating, Huaixu would definitely be the first to know.

With this in mind, Xi Qing came to Jincheng.

To her surprise, Jing Zhengxuan’s secrecy was airtight—even Huaixu was kept in the dark.

From their conversation, it seemed Huaixu didn’t even know Jing Zhengxuan liked men.

Xi Qing had a bad feeling about this.

During dinner that evening, she discreetly observed the two boys across the table.

Huaixu was his usual self—well-behaved and lively, eating slowly and methodically, following his usual order.

As for Jing Zhengxuan…

Xi Qing’s eyelid twitched. Her foreboding grew stronger.

Some things were like that—when you didn’t know, you’d never think of them, but once you noticed something, everything seemed suspicious.

Before this, Xi Qing had never thought Jing Zhengxuan’s feelings for Huaixu were unusual. She’d assumed it was just brotherly affection.

But now, watching Jing Zhengxuan pick out fish bones for Huaixu, peel shrimp, serve him food, wipe his mouth…

It all looked undeniably intimate, no wonder those rumors had started.

Xi Qing thought of Jing Heheng.

Jing Zhengxuan’s father treated her the same way.

Jing Zhengxuan’s behavior was even more attentive than his father’s.

Xi Qing took a sip of tea.

Well, it made sense—Huaixu’s health was fragile, so of course he needed extra care.

No need to jump to conclusions. She’d keep observing.

After dinner, she sent Huaixu away and managed to visit Jing Zhengxuan’s place.

The Jing family had always emphasized independent decision-making. As long as things weren’t out of line, the elders generally didn’t interfere.

Given this, the apartment’s decor and layout were entirely Jing Zhengxuan’s doing.

It was Xi Qing’s first time here. Relying on her maternal authority, she barged into every room without restraint—Jing Zhengxuan couldn’t stop her even if he tried.

First was the gaming room—nothing special, just two sets of gaming chairs and computers side by side. The wall cabinets held various gaming devices, all in pairs, color-coordinated and matching in style.

Next was the study—two desks and two laptops placed together. The bookshelf was filled with photos of Huaixu and Jing Zhengxuan. One cabinet held numerous trinkets, many of which Xi Qing recognized as gifts from Huaixu—even a paper dinosaur from childhood was preserved intact in a clear acrylic box.

Xi Qing walked slowly into the bedroom, where a large bed greeted her…

Xi Qing: “?”

She retracted her foot and pressed a hand to her chest.

One bed?

…That was fine.

They’d slept together since childhood—sharing a bed wasn’t unusual.

Wait!

One… blanket?!

Xi Qing swallowed hard.

The two boys shared a blanket at home too.

That wasn’t a big deal.

She turned and headed for the walk-in closet. Jing Zhengxuan followed the entire time, not stopping her, appearing utterly unruffled.

Inside the closet, Xi Qing’s brows knitted tightly. The internal struggle was so intense she nearly lost her balance, bracing herself against a cabinet.

The closet looked exactly like a cohabiting couple’s—their clothes hung intertwined, two sets of matching outfits pressed close together. Anyone would assume they were couple’s wear.

It was even more inseparable than hers and Jing Heheng’s.

The father and son shared the same damn habits.

How had she never noticed anything amiss before?

Right—she hadn’t known her son was gay!

She’d thought those were just brotherly matching outfits!

The twitching in her eyelid worsened. No more excuses could convince her now.

But what about Huaixu?

Huaixu probably wasn’t gay.

That was a good kid who couldn’t even lie, who didn’t even know the boy he’d grown up with liked men.

So…

Without needing to ask, Xi Qing had already pieced it together.

She turned and met Jing Zhengxuan’s expressionless face. Anger flared. “You insisted on this small apartment just for this?!”

Jing Zhengxuan lowered his head slightly, meeting his mother’s furious gaze. He said nothing.

His silence was confirmation. Xi Qing grew even angrier.

She pointed a trembling finger at him, voice shaking with rage. “Jing Zhengxuan, have you no shame?!”

Jing Zhengxuan exhaled softly, murmuring, “What else could I do?”

It wasn’t a question but a resigned statement, spoken low and heavy.

Xi Qing was momentarily stunned into silence.

A moment later, Jing Zhengxuan lifted his eyes, meeting his mother’s gaze squarely. “Mom, I’m serious.”

Xi Qing’s arm dropped limply. Her eyes wandered aimlessly before settling back on Jing Zhengxuan’s face. Then she turned away without a word and walked to the living room.

Jing Zhengxuan brought her a cup of hot tea.

Xi Qing picked it up expressionlessly, set it down, then picked it up again before finally taking a sip.

As a mother, she knew Jing Zhengxuan too well—he’d always been relentless once he set his mind to something. Only Huaixu could ever dissuade him.

But matters of the heart…

Given Jing Zhengxuan’s stubbornness, he’d charge ahead even if it meant hitting a wall.

What would become of Huaixu?

The more Xi Qing thought, the more distressed she grew, her brows furrowing tightly.

Jing Zhengxuan spoke again: “I’ll make Auntie Huai agree to us.”

His tone was firm, his attitude resolute, but this only infuriated Xi Qing further. She slammed the teacup onto the table. “Have you considered that Huaixu might not like men?!”

The tea sloshed violently, mirroring the turmoil in Xi Qing’s heart.

Jing Zhengxuan interlaced his fingers, pausing before replying, “…I’ll make him like me.”

“You… you’d get a sex change?!” Xi Qing stared at her son in disbelief. “Jing Zhengxuan, have you lost your mind?!”

Jing Zhengxuan: “…”

He denied flatly, “No.”

Xi Qing studied him, then suddenly understood. She smacked the table. “Jing Zhengxuan! What are you planning?! I’m warning you—you can’t force him! If Huaixu suffers even a little, I’m disowning you!”

Jing Zhengxuan suddenly laughed.

Xi Qing grew even angrier, jabbing a finger at him. “What’s so funny?!”

Jing Zhengxuan’s eyes crinkled with amusement. “Nothing. I just think Huaixu would be very lucky to have you as his mother-in-law.”

Xi Qing’s hand froze mid-air. She was speechless.

Suddenly, the anger drained away.

She’d always adored Huaixu, always felt she could dote on him even more, but the boy was too polite to accept it.

If Huaixu really married Jing Zhengxuan, wouldn’t she have a legitimate reason to spoil him rotten?

But the fleeting joy was quickly replaced by worry.

It wouldn’t be that simple.

Aside from the Jing family elders, Huaixu’s mother was the real obstacle.

Huaimo only had one child—how could she ever agree to let her precious son marry a man?!

How could Xi Qing face Huaimo after this?

Noticing her distress, Jing Zhengxuan said earnestly, “Mom, trust me.”

Xi Qing: “…”

After some thought, given how Jing Zhengxuan had cherished Huaixu since childhood, he’d never let the boy suffer. But…

Xi Qing straightened, adopting a stern maternal tone. “I won’t stop you, but until you’ve settled everything, you can’t… take advantage of Huaixu, understand?!”

“Don’t worry.” Jing Zhengxuan’s gaze drifted to a photo frame on the cabinet—Huaixu’s radiant smile, sunlight catching in his dimples.

Looking at the photo, Jing Zhengxuan smiled too…

—

After dinner that night, Huaixu returned to his dorm.

It was Friday, and his roommates were all out. He had the place to himself.

As usual, Huaixu took a shower, then sat at his desk to study.

His textbook was open on the left, next to his senior’s lecture notes, with his own notebook front and center.

Pencil in hand, he stared at the book without moving, not even turning the page.

The desk lamp cast a bright white glow. Huaixu lowered his head, gaze fixed on a single point as the world around him faded to darkness, leaving only that tiny spot of light.

Dizzy, he rubbed his eyes, set the pencil down, and went straight to bed.

He checked his phone—a few unread messages. Switching to WeChat, he saw they were from his mom. His eyes dimmed as he sighed unconsciously before replying.

Then he turned off the dorm lights.

Next door, someone was singing. Laughter and chatter drifted from the hallway. Outside, it sounded like someone was confessing their love, with crowds chanting, “Get together!”

Huaixu buried his face in the blanket.

Maybe soon, Jing Zhengxuan would be urged to “get together” too.

When would he tell Huaixu he was dating?

That suffocating feeling returned. Huaixu rolled onto his side, knees drawn to his chest, eyes growing damp.

He should be happy his childhood friend had found someone he liked.

That had always been the plan—so why were his eyes wet now?

Maybe he was just tired. Huaixu yawned and closed his eyes.

Before long, his roommates returned, talking as they turned on the lights, discussing the movie they’d just seen:

“Would you guys ditch your friends if you got a girlfriend?”

“Obviously. Bros can’t compare to a girlfriend.”

“Wow, way to abandon your friends. Just like the protagonist.”

“Pfft. You’ll understand when you fall in love—it’s like you want to glue yourself to them.”

“I’d never—oh. Shh!”

The roommates got along well—none of them had bed curtains. As soon as they stepped inside, Zhang Yilang noticed the slender figure curled up on the bed and hushed the conversation.

Chen Pan turned off the lights, leaving only Huaixu’s desk lamp on.

Wu Ke eyed the open textbook and exchanged glances with the other two. “What’s up?”

As far as they knew, Huaixu never stayed in the dorm on Friday nights, nor would he leave his desk messy before bed. Something must’ve happened.

Zhang Yilang mouthed exaggeratedly, “Fight?”

Chen Pan shrugged, then pointed at Huaixu’s bed, mouthing, “Ask?”

All three glanced at the blanket-shrouded figure. Zhang Yilang checked the time—already 11 p.m.

He waved it off, whispering, “Forget it. It’s late. If he’s hiding like this, he probably doesn’t want to talk.”

Wu Ke and Chen Pan exchanged another look and nodded, tiptoeing through their nighttime routines.

Huaixu wasn’t actually asleep, but he couldn’t face his roommates right now, so he kept pretending under the covers.

He was grateful for their consideration but also filled with regret.

If Jing Zhengxuan was going to start dating, why had he agreed to move in?

They’d drift apart eventually—maybe it was better to maintain the status quo.

—

A few days later, the dorm withdrawal was processed. Huaixu was moving out.

He’d considered staying—if he’d have to move out of Jing Zhengxuan’s place eventually, why bother with the hassle?

But another thought emerged—

Why not cherish their childhood friendship before Jing Zhengxuan dropped the bomb?

So he went ahead with the move.

Zhang Yilang and the others were reluctant to see him go.

Though Huaixu hadn’t spent much time in the dorm, his presence was unforgettable.

They worried about his health, saved seats for him in class, and loved seeing his dimples when he smiled.

They promised to keep sitting together in lectures and meeting up occasionally before reluctantly helping him pack.

His belongings were few—most were already at Jing Zhengxuan’s place. They finished quickly, the car’s trunk not even half-full.

After saying goodbye, Huaixu watched the campus recede through the window—but the car wasn’t headed to Jing Zhengxuan’s old apartment.

Huaixu had dozed off during the ride. Waking up, he found the car parked in front of a villa. Bewildered, he turned to Jing Zhengxuan. “What’s going on?”

Jing Zhengxuan slung an arm around his shoulders, casual. “The old place was too small. Upgraded.”

Huaixu stayed silent, following Jing Zhengxuan inside.

At the door, Jing Zhengxuan smiled slightly, gesturing ahead. “Just finished decorating. Our new home. Do you like it?”

Huaixu: “?”

Suddenly, it clicked. “So all those late nights… you were doing this?”

Jing Zhengxuan pushed the door open. “Wanted to surprise you.”

Huaixu wasn’t sure if this was a good or bad surprise. Led by Jing Zhengxuan, he toured the villa.

In a third-floor bedroom, Huaixu studied his childhood friend, emotions tangled. Forcing a smile, he asked, “So… we’re not sharing a room anymore?”

Jing Zhengxuan looked down at him, eyes flickering.

Lately, he’d been struggling to control the beast inside.

Too many midnight awakenings, his body rigid, hands under Huaixu’s clothes.

He’d jolt upright, forced to douse the flames with cold water.

He couldn’t imagine Huaixu’s reaction if he ever found out.

It couldn’t happen.

“Plenty of rooms here,” Jing Zhengxuan rubbed his nose, “Didn’t you say you wanted your own space?”

Huaixu: “…”

He looked at Jing Zhengxuan, lips quirking in a strained smile. “Sounds great.”

His mouth smiled, but his eyes were hollow, his chest empty.

Jing Zhengxuan was already distancing himself—he must really be dating. Or at least preparing to.

Of course, people drifted apart when they fell in love.

That was fine. As long as Jing Zhengxuan was happy.

Huaixu smiled again. He should be happy for him.

That night, a storm raged outside.

Jincheng’s weather was like this—every seasonal shift brought typhoons or downpours.

Lightning split the sky, thunder roared, rain lashed the balcony. Plants sagged under the deluge, petals and leaves adrift in puddles, lonely and forlorn.

The thunder kept Huaixu awake.

After over a year, he should’ve been used to this weather—yet tonight, it felt unbearable.

Wrapped in a blanket, he stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, staring blankly at the balcony.

His eyes had adjusted to the dark. He could make out the fallen petals and leaves, feeling an odd kinship with them.

Like this was his fate too…

His nose twitched as he tightened the blanket.

After a while, sleep still eluded him. He decided to fetch a book from the study.

The door swung open—and he startled.

By the hallway light, he saw Jing Zhengxuan’s raised hand, as if about to knock.

Huaixu blinked. “What are you doing here?”

Jing Zhengxuan lowered his arm, concern in his gaze. “Can’t sleep?”

“Yeah.” Huaixu’s nose tingled. He looked down, nodding.

Jing Zhengxuan studied him intently. “What, not welcoming me in?”

“…” Huaixu’s head snapped up. The hallway light reflected in his eyes—along with Jing Zhengxuan’s handsome face.

His gaze wavered. Stepping aside, he wordlessly granted entry.

Jing Zhengxuan felt his forehead—normal temperature. Reassured, he guided Huaixu to the bed, arm around his shoulders. “I’ll help you sleep.”

Huaixu followed, feeling strangely off but unable to pinpoint why. It wasn’t exactly sadness—Jing Zhengxuan still cared, their bond wasn’t severed yet.

Nor was it joy—Jing Zhengxuan had suddenly become distant, asking things like “not welcoming me in?” Since when did he need permission?

Had his girlfriend reminded him to be polite?

A lightning flash illuminated the room, the brief glare helping Huaixu focus.

Few things could change a person—either major trauma or someone profoundly important.

As far as Huaixu knew, Jing Zhengxuan hadn’t suffered any trauma. That left the latter.

A girlfriend.

Lying in bed, Huaixu stared unblinkingly at Jing Zhengxuan, wanting to ask but holding back.

Why was he afraid to ask?

What was he scared of?

Baffled, Huaixu’s brows knitted.

Jing Zhengxuan sat by the bed, smoothing the crease with a thumb. “What’s on your mind?”

Rain pounded the balcony plants, the cacophony snapping Huaixu back. He pushed the hand away. “Nothing.”

Jing Zhengxuan stilled, expression darkening. After a pause, he clasped his hands, smiling tentatively. “Huaixu… do you not want to live with me?”

“?” Huaixu’s face morphed into a giant question mark. “Why would you think that?”

Jing Zhengxuan stared, gaze heavy on Huaixu’s face. “Just checking.”

Then, as if nothing had happened, he climbed onto the bed. “It’s late. Let’s sleep.”

Huaixu lifted the blanket as usual, but Jing Zhengxuan lay atop the duvet this time, hugging him through the thick padding, patting gently. “Sleep.”

The down comforter wasn’t thick—they were still close. Huaixu could clearly see his own reflection in Jing Zhengxuan’s eyes.

Those cool brown irises weren’t cold now but warm, even the usually stern lips curved slightly.

Huaixu grew more confused. He had so many questions, so much he wanted to understand.

But under the rhythmic patting, his eyelids grew heavy, the storm fading to a lulling drizzle, coaxing him toward dreams.

Forget it. Let it be. Huaixu thought, seconds before sleep took him.

—

Mid-November arrived, and the long-awaited 100th-anniversary gala finally commenced.

The university took it seriously, inviting leaders, distinguished alumni, and even livestreaming the event.

The auditorium was packed, performers at their stations.

Backstage access was strictly controlled to prevent mishaps—only performers allowed.

At the entrance, Jing Zhengxuan stood scowling, Huaixu’s guqin in his arms.

“Um… no entry without a pass,” the staffer explained nervously.

Jing Zhengxuan just stared, icy gaze exuding menace.

The staffer gulped, trembling.

Huaixu intervened, turning to Jing Zhengxuan—whose murderous aura instantly vanished, voice softening. “It’s heavy. Let me carry it in.”

“No. Rules are rules.” Huaixu took the guqin, exasperated. “It’s not heavy. Go wait in the audience. And take good photos!”

Jing Zhengxuan: “…Fine.”

Only then did he reluctantly leave.

Backstage, Huaixu sat with Shu Jinwei, chatting animatedly. “When’s that troupe coming back to Jincheng? They were amazing!”

He loved theater—discovering Shu Jinwei shared his passion felt like finding a long-lost friend.

Shu Jinwei grinned. “Probably after their tour. Next stop’s Yuancheng—we could go together. It’s right next door.”

“Yuancheng?” Huaixu lit up. “That’s my hometown! I’ll show you around after.”

“Deal! Let’s check schedules.” Shu Jinwei pulled up a calendar.

“Sounds great!” Huaixu leaned in.

As they planned, Huaixu got a text from Jing Zhengxuan:

[Jing Zhengxuan]: Your senior?

[Jing Zhengxuan]: [Photo]

The photo showed Xie Kaiyan hugging a woman.

[Sun]: [Eating melon emoji]

[Sun]: Since when are you so gossipy?

[Jing Zhengxuan]: Not sure if it’s him. Confirming.

Huaixu glanced upward, then replied:

[Sun]: Totally normal. We’re at that age.

[Sun]: [Dog emoji] Speaking of, you’ve been so busy lately—secretly dating?

Some questions were easier asked through screens, under the guise of jokes.

Huaixu had been agonizing over this.

He’d told himself to let things unfold naturally, but since moving into the villa, Jing Zhengxuan seemed busier—often disappearing without explanation.

It left a sour taste in Huaixu’s mouth.

They were childhood friends—what couldn’t he share?

Was dating such a big secret?

Multiple times, Huaixu had nearly blurted the question, only to swallow it back.

His feelings about the answer were complicated—equal parts wanting and dreading it.

Thinking better of it, he recalled the last message.

Better play it cool.

In the audience, Jing Zhengxuan stared at his phone.

He’d seen the message, was pondering a reply, when the recall notification popped up.

Jing Zhengxuan smirked.

[Jing Zhengxuan]: What’d you recall?

[Sun]: Nothing. Don’t forget to take photos.

[Jing Zhengxuan]: Got it.

The show began with dazzling hosts who could’ve passed for professional emcees.

Jing Zhengxuan idly scrolled, waiting for Huaixu’s segment.

Finally, the curtain rose, dry ice fog swirling across the stage like a fairyland. A group in Hanfu appeared.

Ethereal melodies filled the hall, traditional instruments weaving elegance and grace.

The audience listened raptly, watching even more intently.

All eyes were drawn to the young man in white—unable to look away for even a second.

Huaixu’s head was slightly bowed, accentuating his slender neck. His long lashes cast shadows even on stage.

He seemed immersed in the music, lost in the vibrations beneath his fingertips.

His focus was magnetic—combined with his natural charm, even the cameramen gave him extra close-ups.

Jing Zhengxuan snapped photo after photo while Jiang Yuhan recorded beside him.

“You’re such a stage dad,” Jiang Yuhan teased. “Photos, videos—can’t get enough.”

Jing Zhengxuan shot him a glare. “Quiet.”

Jiang Yuhan zipped his lips obediently.

After two pieces—one classical, one modern—the performers bowed to thunderous applause.

Jing Zhengxuan tossed the camera to Jiang Yuhan. “Hold this.” Then he left.

Backstage, Huaixu was greeted by an enormous bouquet—so big he needed both arms to hold it.

“Why the flowers?” Huaixu was baffled. “And so many?”

He’d performed often as a child, always receiving gifts from Jing Zhengxuan afterward—but never roses.

Jing Zhengxuan ruffled his hair, glancing pointedly at a couple nearby. “You should have what others have.”

Following his gaze, Huaixu saw a boy handing flowers to a girl—they hugged, beaming.

Huaixu looked down at the white roses, discomfort stirring.

Why treat him like a girlfriend?

They were just childhood friends.

Keeping his distance yet doing things that would surely upset his actual girlfriend…

What was Jing Zhengxuan thinking?

Masking his unease, he pushed the bouquet back. “Those are for couples. What’s this about?”

He turned toward the reserved seating area.

Jing Zhengxuan followed, blocking his path. “Who says flowers are just for girlfriends?”

Huaixu eyed him skeptically. “These are white roses.”

Jing Zhengxuan frowned. “What about them?”

“White roses mean—” Huaixu cut himself off abruptly. “You don’t know?”

Jing Zhengxuan looked genuinely puzzled. “No. The florist didn’t say.”

Huaixu studied him as they walked, finding no tells—but he was still doubtful. “Really?”

Jing Zhengxuan nodded solemnly. “Really. I just said it was for after a performance.”

Huaixu: “…”

He scrutinized Jing Zhengxuan again, finally smiling slightly. “Thanks. But it’s too big—you hold it.”

Jing Zhengxuan smiled, one arm around Huaixu’s shoulders, bouquet in the other. “Okay.”

Behind them, their classmates exchanged gleeful looks, barely containing their squeals.

“White roses—pure love.”

“A vow to grow old together. So romantic!”

“I knew they were real.”

“But why’d Huaixu refuse at first?”

“Couple’s banter. You’re so clueless.”

Meanwhile, Xie Kaiyan spotted them from a side door. He nodded at Huaixu, then met Jing Zhengxuan’s penetrating gaze—smiling calmly behind his glasses…

—

Post-performance, Huaixu became a minor celebrity—featured in admissions brochures, with fans visiting campus hoping to spot him.

But the crowds dwindled once word spread about the intimidating man always at his side.

Huaixu settled back into routine, though he sensed subtle shifts between him and Jing Zhengxuan.

Jing Zhengxuan was as attentive as ever—but secrecy lingered.

Come weekend, Huaixu and Shu Jinwei went to Yuancheng for a musical—this time, Jing Zhengxuan didn’t join.

Unprecedented.

Huaixu felt oddly hollow.

Logically, he should’ve been glad Jing Zhengxuan was less overbearing—so why wasn’t he?

His mood soured, the performance failing to captivate.

Onstage, lovers reunited—Huaixu thought of inevitable partings.

When conflict arose—Huaixu saw life’s endless losses.

Was Jing Zhengxuan on a date?

What did his girlfriend look like?

When had they gotten together?

The questions churned, leaving a bitter taste.

If friendships inevitably faded when one person dated, he wished Jing Zhengxuan would just say so—not this slow estrangement.

He’d rather a clean break than this drawn-out ache.

Noticing his distraction, Shu Jinwei tactfully didn’t pry.

After the show, Huaixu showed Shu Jinwei around Yuancheng’s famed resort.

En route, Huaixu texted Jing Zhengxuan back. Shu Jinwei peeked, startled. “That’s Jing Zhengxuan’s profile pic?”

He backpedaled. “Sorry, wasn’t trying to snoop.”

Huaixu shrugged. “What about it?”

Shu Jinwei studied him, hesitating before shaking his head. “Nothing.”

Huaixu knew there was more, but he wouldn’t press. They continued touring.

Eventually, Shu Jinwei cracked. “Aren’t you curious?”

Huaixu turned. “You’re finally spilling?”

Shu Jinwei: “…”

“You knew I’d cave?”

Huaixu grinned. “You’re not the secret-keeping type.”

Shu Jinwei huffed, then confessed, “Don’t your profile pics kinda look like a couple set?”

Huaixu blinked. “…What?”

“Yours is a smiling sun,” Shu Jinwei explained. “His is a clear blue sky.”

As they walked, Huaixu asked blankly, “So?”

“Think about it—what’s in the sky?” Shu Jinwei prompted.

Huaixu counted off. “Clouds, birds, sometimes planes.”

“…” Shu Jinwei tried again. “And?”

Huaixu realized. “The sun.”

“Bingo!” Shu Jinwei clapped.

“So?” Huaixu still didn’t get it.

Shu Jinwei spelled it out: “You’re the sun, he’s the sky—meant to be.”

Huaixu: “…”

That was a stretch.

He recalled the basketball court gossip about them dating…

Instead of denying outright, Huaixu demurred, “Just coincidence. We’re both guys.”

Then, thinking of Jing Zhengxuan’s recent distance, he shook his head firmly. “Definitely coincidence.”

Shu Jinwei assumed he was naive. “Guys can date too, like—”

Huaixu cut him off. “I know guys can date. But…”

He licked his lips, pointing ahead. “Let’s get bubble tea.”

“Huh? Sure.” Shu Jinwei noticed his shift and changed topics. “Where should we eat…”

—

Time flowed like a river, December arriving swiftly as finals loomed.

Lately, Huaixu had been studying more with Xie Kaiyan, growing closer under the guise of note-sharing.

Oddly, every time Huaixu met Xie Kaiyan, Jing Zhengxuan would mysteriously injure himself—bumped knees, cut fingers. Always minor, but the pattern was suspicious.

Huaixu had his doubts—Jing Zhengxuan had faked injuries before.

But each time he tried confronting him, Jing Zhengxuan would play vulnerable, melting Huaixu’s resolve.

Today, right after parting with Xie Kaiyan, Huaixu got a text: Jing Zhengxuan had bumped his head.

Rushing home, Huaixu demanded, “How bad?”

Jing Zhengxuan leaned against the entryway, arms crossed, indifferent to his injury. “More notes?”

“Huh?” Huaixu recalled the earlier scene.

Xie Kaiyan’s gentle confession: “You’ve suffered for 19 years—let me accompany you for the rest, okay?”

Huaixu never expected this.

He’d assumed Xie Kaiyan was taken because of that photo.

Turned out it was his sister—a distinguished alumna attending the anniversary.

“More notes?” Jing Zhengxuan repeated.

Huaixu snapped back, nodding. “Yeah.”

Jing Zhengxuan straightened, piercing gaze locked on him. “Huaixu… something’s off.”

Huaixu steered him to the living room. “I’m fine. What about you? How’d you hit your head?”

Jing Zhengxuan sat on the couch, dismissive. “Cabinet.”

“Where? Let me see.” Huaixu stood over him, parting his hair to inspect.

Jing Zhengxuan caught his wrist, looking up. “Just swollen. What’s wrong?”

Huaixu avoided his eyes, fingers combing through his hair. “Nothing. What’ve you been up to lately?”

About Xie Kaiyan’s confession, Huaixu decided silence was best.

Somehow, he sensed Jing Zhengxuan had always disliked Xie Kaiyan.

Oddly, Jing Zhengxuan treated Xie Kaiyan and Shu Jinwei completely differently—cold to the former, indifferent to the latter.

Though he’d rejected Xie Kaiyan, Huaixu feared Jing Zhengxuan might retaliate.

Better safe than sorry.

Jing Zhengxuan guided Huaixu’s hand to the bump. “Here.”

Huaixu prodded gently. “Hurt?”

Jing Zhengxuan pressed Huaixu’s palm to the spot. “Not when you touch it.”

Huaixu sighed. “You didn’t do this on purpose?”

“No.” Jing Zhengxuan’s lips quirked. “Huaixu, you avoid eye contact when lying. It’s obvious.”

Huaixu, who’d thought he’d diverted attention: “…”

He pulled free, suddenly sarcastic. “Right. Unlike you—lying without blinking.”

Jing Zhengxuan: “…”

He coughed. “Let’s not dwell on the past.”

Huaixu scoffed. “The bump will fade on its own.”

He turned to leave.

Jing Zhengxuan yanked him back, pulling him between his legs, hands settling on Huaixu’s waist.

The touch burned through fabric, electric and unfamiliar.

Just as Huaixu tensed—ding—a phone lit up on the table.

Glancing down, Huaixu saw his own photo on the screen—from the gala.

Not his phone.

Jing Zhengxuan’s.

Huaixu froze.

---

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