As Eugene’s belongings were carried out of the house, the sun slowly set.
Fanny and the other officers finished documenting the last item, locked the front door from the outside, and sealed it with an official notice. The house became quiet again. The osmanthus flowers still swayed on the branches, but there was no one left to collect them.
Eugene’s handcuffs were removed, and as usual, Luo Hai was the one to take him away.
Night fell, and heavy clouds stretched across the dark blue sky, drifting slowly. The moon occasionally peeked out before vanishing again, casting a soft halo through the clouds.
No one spoke during the drive. Eugene rested his chin in his hand, gazing out the window while humming an indistinct melody. Luo Hai glanced at him out of the corner of his eye—at him and the violin in his lap. The streetlights cast a glow on Eugene’s shoulders and hair, making him look even more striking.
Luo Hai often dreamed of Eugene as a child.
Short, chubby, with a round face still carrying baby fat. His hair was in that bowl cut everyone laughed at, and he was always grinning like an idiot, trailing behind him like a little shadow, asking endless questions.
Luo Hai, what’s that?
Luo Hai, what’s this?
Luo Hai, Xiao Tie gave me another nickname.
Luo Hai, I really want to eat that persimmon.
Who could have imagined that the chubby little tag-along, always looking so pitiful, would grow into such a stunning young man? Even the way he lazily propped his chin on his hand and looked out the window made the moonlight seem dull in comparison.
“You know, I’ve always thought making osmanthus cakes is a waste.”
As soon as Luo Hai parked in front of the apartment, Eugene started talking again, walking backward as he rambled on.
“They only put a few osmanthus petals in the cake, and all you taste is sugar and glutinous rice. If you like sugar and glutinous rice so much, why not just eat rice cakes? If you ask me, the best way to eat osmanthus is in tea or wine…”
“Not everyone can handle the strong fragrance of osmanthus.” Luo Hai unlocked the apartment door. “For some people, just a hint of floral scent is enough.”
“And that’s why so many people like eating processed junk food these days. ‘Just a hint of scent is enough’—artificial flavoring can do that.” Eugene scoffed. “You people have no appreciation for real food.”
Luo Hai sighed, wondering why he was even humoring this conversation.
“But don’t worry, it’s fine.”
Eugene suddenly pulled his hand out of his pocket and dumped a handful of osmanthus flowers onto the dining table. Then he reached into his other pocket—another handful. Then his pants pockets, the inside of his coat…
In the end, a small mountain of osmanthus flowers piled up on the table.
“I secretly packed quite a bit of osmanthus to bring back. No matter what you want to make, there’s enough for several meals.”
Luo Hai stared at him in shock as he kept pulling flowers from every pocket. Then, finally, he couldn’t help it—he burst out laughing.
“If you wanted to bring some back, couldn’t you have just said so? You could’ve asked one of the officers for a paper bag.”
“Then I wouldn’t have been able to surprise you.” Eugene raised an eyebrow and picked up the expensive violin.
The dust on the violin was gone—somehow, Eugene had cleaned it up without Luo Hai noticing. Now, it gleamed under the light, its surface flawless.
“Now we have osmanthus, and we have a violin. No garden, but I think the ceiling light in your apartment sets the mood pretty well.” Eugene rested the violin on his shoulder, chin slightly raised, amber eyes glimmering with mischief. “Dear Mr. Luo Hai, would you like to hear a song?”
Luo Hai didn’t refuse. He couldn’t refuse.
Eugene slowly drew the bow across the strings, and a melody like a flowing spring poured from his fingertips.
Soft, unhurried, tinged with a quiet sadness—like stars in the night, like a bonfire beneath the moon. The wind gently swayed the treetops, the leaves melting into the shadows, while fireflies cast their faint glow over the lake.
Luo Hai knew this piece of music—rather, he knew it too well.
It was the sound that had drifted over the orphanage walls many, many years ago. The melody that had accompanied them through countless nights when they were still young, before the fire happened.
Eugene’s violin playing wasn’t particularly skilled, but it was clear he had practiced this piece for a long time. There wasn’t a single wrong note or misplaced rhythm.
The fragrance of osmanthus filled the air, the violin’s sound lingered, and the night outside the window was just right.
Luo Hai said nothing, but as the violin’s melody resonated through the apartment, he slowly stood up, walked to the piano in the corner of the living room, and lifted the velvet cloth covering it.
It had been a long time since he had played the piano.
At some point, work had gradually taken over his entire life, leaving him with no time even to process stress. His emotions had been worn down by endless busyness, and perhaps one day, even if someone stabbed him in the heart with a knife, he wouldn’t feel a thing.
But tonight was different.
Tonight, there was the gentle moonlight, the fragrance of osmanthus, and the faint smile at the corner of Eugene’s lips.
The violin’s melody echoed through the apartment, blending reality into a dream, turning the night into an endless performance.
Then, the piano joined in.
Luo Hai’s fingers danced over the black and white keys. His thin shirt was well-fitted, accentuating his tall and lean figure. His eyes were slightly lowered, eyelashes trembling in the light. His fingers moved skillfully and precisely, each note smooth and melodious, like a long, flowing silk ribbon that gently wrapped around the violin’s tune.
Eugene smiled, raised his bow, and let the melody soar in the climax of the piece. The piano followed closely, lifting the violin’s sound with intricate harmonies and accents.
The night and moonlight stretched with the melody. A nightingale began to sing from the treetops. Dew slid from rose petals. A handsome young man blushed as he handed a rose to the girl he adored.
Then, the violin’s melody softened again, like a lover’s breath beside a pillow, like the warmth of morning sunlight. The piano followed, gentle and soothing, like fingers combing through soft hair, drifting lightly on the wind.
The two different instruments intertwined as if they were one, lingering, clinging, leaving traces of warmth in each other’s notes, briefly separating before coming together again.
At that moment, time seemed to stop—or perhaps it had stretched across the entire universe.
Until the final note settled into silence.
The piano and violin ended in unison, and the night regained its tranquility, with only the lingering echoes left in the air.
Luo Hai’s hands remained on the keys, his gaze lowered, dark eyes fixed on the piano lid. His Adam’s apple bobbed slightly, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t bring himself to.
But Eugene didn’t give him time to hesitate.
First, Luo Hai heard the sound of the violin being placed on the table, followed by approaching footsteps.
He looked up, about to say something, but before he could, Eugene’s hand pressed against the back of his head, tilting it forward, and without another word, he kissed him.
For a split second, Luo Hai’s mind went blank.
At that moment, he could see nothing, think of nothing. His entire body was consumed by the sensation of Eugene’s soft lips.
Eugene’s lips were thin, always moving, always chattering about nonsense. But they were also soft, carrying the coolness of the night, sealing him in with gentle intensity.
Luo Hai instinctively wanted to resist, his elbow pressing onto the piano keys, causing a few discordant notes to sound. But Eugene was as sharp as a hawk, swiftly grasping his arm, turning a fleeting kiss into something deeper.
An overwhelming flood of sensation crashed into Luo Hai’s senses.
He could smell the strong scent of juniper gin on Eugene, intoxicatingly close. The pain from their conflicting pheromones spread through his body, his temples throbbing with a dull ache, yet within that pain, there was an almost masochistic pleasure.
Heat surged from every point of contact between them. Their breaths tangled together. The room was quiet enough that their heartbeats could be heard.
When Eugene finally pulled away, Luo Hai unconsciously chased after the warmth before fully parting.
Eugene lowered his gaze slightly, his blond curls slipping down his forehead, brushing against his eyelashes.
He stayed close, watching Luo Hai silently for a moment before curving his lips into a light smile. “Do you prefer osmanthus cake or osmanthus tea?”
Luo Hai blinked, his mind still adrift miles away, and instinctively answered, “Osmanthus cake.”
“Alright, I’ll make osmanthus cake for you tomorrow.” Eugene smiled. “Osmanthus rice dumplings and osmanthus lotus root in syrup are great too. Have you tried them?”
“No,” Luo Hai responded automatically.
“Alright, I’ll make some of each. You can try them all.” Eugene took a step back, widening the space between them. “Personally, I prefer soft, syrupy things. Rice cakes are too dry for me.”
As time passed, Luo Hai’s awareness and reason slowly returned. But as he looked at Eugene’s smiling face, he hesitated for a moment before simply saying, “Okay.”
Eugene nodded, straightened up, and carefully put away the violin. “You play the piano really well, much better than my violin skills. You should play more often—it’d be a shame not to.”
“I don’t have that much time.” Luo Hai closed the piano lid, avoiding Eugene’s gaze.
“Of course. You’re the prosecutor’s office’s busiest man, working from dawn to dusk. Without you, the whole office would collapse.” Eugene clicked his tongue. “Alright, since you finally got home early for once, I won’t keep you from your precious beauty sleep. I’m heading downstairs to take out the trash and buy some honey for the osmanthus. You go to bed first.”
Luo Hai did not look up, only responding with a faint “Mm.”
Eugene swiftly put on his clothes, grabbed the trash, and changed his shoes. Just as his hand rested on the doorknob, about to press it down, Luo Hai’s voice came from behind.
“Wear something warmer. It’s been cold at night lately.” His tone was calm and quiet.
A slow smile spread across Eugene’s lips. “Got it.”
