FQ chapter 47

They had just passed a meadow beneath the snowy mountain. In the daytime, it was scattered with rocks and wind-blown wild grass. Now, in the dark, it was all vague outlines.

Luan Ye sat on the car hood, lit a cigarette.

Fan Qing sat nearby, watching him. The lighter briefly lit up Luan Ye’s face before going dark again, leaving just the ember glowing at his fingertips.

The mountain wind was chilly. Fan Qing reached out and took his hand. It was cold.

He rubbed it between his palms.

“Fan Qing,” Luan Ye said softly.

Fan Qing looked at him.

“I really like Xuehu Village. But I’ve got a lot of unfinished business—both here and abroad, with work and with life. So I can’t promise I’ll stay here forever… And even if I said that, you wouldn’t believe me.”

Fan Qing nodded. “Yeah.”

Outside of this brief time they had shared, they were people from different worlds.

Luan Ye continued.

“I might leave this place… but that doesn’t mean I’m leaving you.”

Fan Qing looked up, startled.

Luan Ye moved a little closer so Fan Qing could see his eyes clearly.

“I never planned to leave you.”

Fan Qing opened his mouth, suddenly a little nervous. “Then you—”

“I’m not just having a fling with you,” Luan Ye said. “Maybe I haven’t always shown it well… but I really want to be in a serious relationship with you.”

The long, dark highway, the snowy mountain, the trees rushing by, and the soft rustle of wind through grass—all of it fell away.

For now, the world contained only Fan Qing and Luan Ye, looking at each other.

Luan Ye was very close. His voice was quiet, like a breath.

“When I came here, I never expected to fall in love. I had my reasons for coming. But from the moment you said I was like a tree—or maybe even earlier. Then the Torch Festival, when I kissed you… all the way to now.”

“I’ve been serious.”

Fan Qing looked at him, his whole body suddenly relaxed, like he could finally breathe freely after holding it in for so long.

A sudden sting behind his eyes made him turn quickly away, so Luan Ye wouldn’t see.

Luan Ye smirked and went back to his seat.

There were no other cars on the road. In the quiet, Fan Qing composed himself and finally spoke.

“I’m serious too,” he said. “Maybe… since that night on the stage, when I kissed you.”

That confused, shocked panic might not have been just drunken guilt over acting on someone with a boyfriend.

It was also the fear of realizing he had truly fallen for Luan Ye.

Luan Ye smiled. “Then that means we’re dating.”

“As for what you said about me suddenly kicking you before I leave…”

He laughed. “Wow. Is that what you think of me? A total jerk?”

“…No.”

Fan Qing flushed, a little embarrassed, and kicked a pebble by his foot. “I was just making a comparison.”

“If you decide to leave, just like the old saying goes… better a short pain than a long one. At least it’s less panic-inducing.”

“There’s no such thing as long or short pain.” Luan Ye’s tone was firm. “I won’t hurt you.”

Fan Qing didn’t respond. He blinked hard, forcing back the emotions that had gathered in his eyes.

“Besides, whether it’s long pain or short pain, suddenly getting into a relationship with you, then suddenly leaving—it’s just asking to be hated,” Luan Ye said with a smile. “No matter which way, you’d probably end up hating me, right?”

Not to mention, this was a first love.

Fan Qing looked straight ahead. After a while, he replied: “I wouldn’t.”

Luan Ye was genuinely surprised this time. He turned his head.

“Hm?”

“I might be a little… sad.” Fan Qing seemed a bit shy when he said this; the last words were mumbled. Then he continued:

“But I wouldn’t hate you.”

He didn’t know how to explain it. After hesitating for a few seconds, he finally spoke:

“Where I’m from, we have a saying that translates as: ‘May the person being blessed have smooth travels wherever they go, a path through every valley, and a bridge over every river.’ If you really leave… I hope your path is like that.”

A long, slightly clumsy but heartfelt blessing, which, when translated simply, meant: Peace and joy, smooth and worry-free life.

In the night, Fan Qing’s voice was as calm as a snow-capped mountain.

“Whether you’re in Xuehu Village or somewhere else, whether I’m with you or not, it doesn’t matter. As long as you’re living the life you want and feel it’s good, that’s enough.”

Silence fell completely between the two of them.

Fan Qing kept his eyes on the endless road ahead. He didn’t know what expression Luan Ye had beside him—and was too shy to look. He had just confessed again, after all.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Luan Ye sitting still, as quiet as if he had fallen asleep.

Until a car approached from the opposite direction, its blinding headlights turning the night into day for a moment, flashing across their faces before quickly passing by.

Luan Ye seemed to snap out of it. He opened the car door and got in. “Let’s go.”

…..

On the way back, Luan Ye didn’t say another word. He sat with his eyes closed, lost in thought. Only when Xuehu Village came into view did he finally ask, “You don’t have anything tonight, right?”

Fan Qing glanced at him through the rearview mirror. “No.”

Luan Ye continued: “Come sleep at my place—”

Fan Qing slammed the brakes. Luan Ye reached out just in time to brace himself on the dashboard and quickly added, “We’re just going to talk for a bit.”

“…Ah.” Fan Qing licked his lips. “Okay.”

“Can you let me finish next time?” Luan Ye chuckled. “Scared me to death.”

Scared me too.

Fan Qing loosened his death grip on the steering wheel a little.

Granny Mu was already asleep. The two went upstairs quietly. Luan Ye finished washing up first and handed Fan Qing a new toothbrush—the kind he had bought with him at the town supermarket last time. When Fan Qing came out from the bathroom, Luan Ye was already lying down, one arm over his eyes, lost in thought.

Fan Qing hesitated. He was a little nervous.

Even though the last time Luan Ye was feeling down, they had briefly lain together on the bed (with the blanket in between)—this was still technically the first sleepover.

Even if Luan Ye said they were just going to “talk for a bit”…

Still. A sleepover.

That nervousness made him move gently and carefully as he walked over, lifted the blanket, and climbed in.

The temperature difference between day and night in Yunnan was big—it was a bit chilly at night. But the bed was warm, probably because of Luan Ye. There was even a faint scent, likely from laundry detergent or body wash.

Only the wall lamp was on beside the bed. Once Fan Qing lay down, Luan Ye reached over and turned it off. The room dimmed, with only a bit of moonlight coming in through the window, enough to make out faint outlines.

Fan Qing’s nervousness mostly faded. He looked at Luan Ye in that faint light.

“Are you sleepy?” He asked.

“No, I’m reflecting,” Luan Ye replied.

Fan Qing was stunned.

Luan Ye’s voice had a smile in it: “Reflecting on why I gave you the impression I might disappear tomorrow.”

“…I didn’t mean it that way.” Fan Qing sighed. “I said the wrong thing.”

“Just teasing you,” Luan Ye smiled. “I was thinking about that blessing you gave. I think you… really know how to love someone.”

It was the first time Fan Qing had been described that way. He wasn’t sure what it meant.

In the dim light, Luan Ye’s voice came again, very softly:

“Some people are born that way. Some have to learn. Some… never quite get it.”

“I never really learned.”

After a moment of silence, he continued:

“Where should I start… maybe with my mom.”

“I take her surname—her name is Luan Ping. She used to be a junior high English teacher, then she quit and started a clothing factory with my dad.”

From nothing. The two were both strong-willed and stubborn, always clashing. They fought all the time, from when he was little until they finally got tired of it and decided to divorce.

“The divorce dragged on for more than a year. In the end, my mom got the factory and custody of me. Business wasn’t great then, but she was career-focused and didn’t want anyone saying she only succeeded because of her ex. She couldn’t manage both the business and me, so she sent me overseas.”

Luan Ye spoke calmly, like telling someone else’s story, but Fan Qing still subconsciously leaned a little closer.

Luan Ye noticed. In the dark, he gently reached out and touched Fan Qing’s face.

He briefly recounted the difficulties and unease he faced abroad—the veiled or outright discrimination and exclusion at school. He only mentioned it in passing; it had been too long to recall in detail.

“Back then, whether at home or school, the only one who was there for me, who would play with me, was Bai Mingcheng.”

Fan Qing gave a soft “mm” in response. He had heard this before, though not in this much detail.

From age 14 to 17—childhood playmates to teenage confusion, friends to lovers.

“Later, I graduated high school and got an offer. My mom came to visit me in the U.S. She said she hoped I’d come back after university to help her.”

Luan Ye paused.

“Maybe I was in a rebellious phase. Just wanted to spite her. Or maybe… I was just young.” He gave a faint laugh. “Afraid of nothing.”

Fan Qing guessed: “You told your mom… about your relationship?”

“Mm.” Luan Ye’s voice went hoarse.

That led to a fierce fallout. It was the first time he saw his strong-willed mother lose her composure in rage. She even said he should quit school and return to China immediately.

Luan Ye, of course, refused. He was just like his mother—neither would back down. After several explosive arguments, she made an ultimatum: if he didn’t come home now, then he shouldn’t ever come back.