The drifting clouds veiled the moon, casting Alpha’s pale face into shadow. His gaze was like a cold, thin blade.
Beside him, Shang Sui wore a smile, but no matter how one looked at it, it didn’t seem like a kind one.
Trapped in the dream, Shi Qi’s thoughts had slowed down.
Seeing that he couldn’t speak, Shang Sui seemed even more displeased and pinched his waist.
“Xiao Qi?”
Shang Sui’s voice was laced with menace, his expression saying plainly, “You’d better explain yourself.”
Shi Qi was completely at a loss and simply followed his instincts.
Needless to say, this person beside him was someone he knew well, just like the younger version of Shang Sui downstairs.
Shi Qi grabbed him. “Let’s go together.”
Shang Sui: “?”
Shi Qi sent a message to the Alpha downstairs.
[Can you take him too?]
The reply came quickly: [No way. Tell him to get lost.]
Worried Shi Qi might misunderstand, the Alpha added: [The bad tone isn’t directed at you.]
“Wow, this guy has no manners.”
Shang Sui leaned in to glance at the phone and commented with disdain, “What a coincidence, I don’t want him touching me either. I’m afraid I’ll get infected.”
“……”
Shang Sui said breezily, “So I’ll take you down myself, Princess.”
With that, he tightened his arms and pulled Shi Qi into his embrace.
The night wind blew past their ears through the open window. Before Shi Qi could react, Shang Sui stepped onto the ledge and jumped straight down from the third floor of the villa.
Even while holding him, Shang Sui landed almost soundlessly, like some silent and agile beast.
He looked at the Alpha a few steps away, who resembled him in appearance, and said reluctantly, “Xiao Qi said he wanted to spend the festival together, so I’ll just put up with you.”
Compared to Shang Sui, the Alpha was much colder.
He didn’t respond and just glanced at Shi Qi. “Let’s go.”
To leave the courtyard, they needed to climb over the wall. The Alpha hesitated slightly, then reached out a hand to Shi Qi.
Shi Qi vaguely sensed Shang Sui staring at him. If he took that hand, Shang Sui would surely make a big fuss.
Shi An and Jiang Li were still around. If these two started fighting, no one would be leaving tonight.
Shi Qi decisively said, “I’ll do it myself.”
Climbing walls was basically routine for him.
He scaled it quietly and, remembering something, stood on top of the wall and looked next door.
The merle border collie was curled up under a tree, trembling and silent. Normally, it would have bounded over joyfully at the sight of people.
Why was it so scared today?
As if sensing what Shi Qi was thinking, the Alpha explained softly, “I only looked at it. I didn’t do anything else.”
As he spoke, he took Shi Qi’s hand. “There’ll be a lot of people at the temple fair. I don’t want you getting lost.”
The moment he said that, Shi Qi’s other hand was taken by someone else. Shang Sui, acting completely naturally, said, “I’m afraid I’ll get lost.”
The Alpha finally lost his temper. “Are you crazy? Do you even know how old you are?”
Shang Sui: “And you’re not crazy? Go look in a mirror—your jealousy’s practically pouring out of your face. Even the dog was terrified just seeing you.”
Shi Qi was caught in the middle, the two people on either side staring each other down across him. Their fox-like eyes bristled with murderous intent, as if they couldn’t wait to eliminate the other version of themselves.
For a brief moment, Shi Qi wanted to say, “Why don’t you two just hold hands? You’re a perfect match.”
“So,” Shi Qi suddenly asked, “am I dreaming?”
No one answered.
Shi Qi muttered to himself, “Why would I have such a weird dream?”
“Take a guess,” Shang Sui said teasingly. “Maybe because even in dreams, you miss me a lot.”
“…” The Alpha sneered. “You really know how to flatter yourself.”
Quarreling all the way, they arrived at the temple fair. On the distant lakeshore, tens of thousands of lanterns floated on the water, the continuous glow rising and falling like shimmering scales on a dragon in motion.
For thousands of years, the people of Qijiang had written their wishes on lanterns, and as each one drifted across the lake, it symbolized their wishes reaching the ears of the gods.
“By the way, how did you sneak out?” Shi Qi remembered the Alpha had three guards at home. “Did you use the method I taught you?”
He had previously observed them, and the three guards each had their own habits and would slack off at different times.
The Alpha hesitated for a moment. “Mm. It worked well.”
Shang Sui inexplicably let out a chuckle nearby.
Hearing that he had been helpful, Shi Qi’s eyes curved slightly with a smile. “You still haven’t told me why you were locked up there?”
The Alpha didn’t answer, instead suggesting, “Want to release a lantern?”
Shi Qi nodded.
They bought two square-shaped lanterns. The vendor was a young girl. Seeing the three of them holding hands, with two looking very much alike, she smiled and asked, “Out having fun with your brothers? You all seem really close.”
As she spoke, she looked toward Shi Qi in the middle.
Unlike the two Alphas, his features and aura were especially pure. His dewy eyes tilted slightly upward, more eye-catching than even the most dazzling lanterns.
Shi Qi was just about to respond—
“We’re not. He’s my boyfriend,” Shang Sui said coolly. “That one on the side is just some creep who popped up out of nowhere.”
Boyfriend?
Triggered by that word, the Alpha looked at Shi Qi.
Strictly speaking, Shi Qi was a little older than him now, but Omegas were generally more delicate and shorter in stature than Alphas. Even the youthful Shang Sui could easily pick him up.
The Alpha tightened his grip on Shi Qi’s hand and glanced at his future self before turning to the vendor and saying, “Sorry, he’s not all there in the head.”
The vendor hesitated. “But don’t you two look exactly the same…?”
The two of them exchanged a perfectly synchronized glance, then both gagged in unison.
Even in that moment, they each held tightly onto Shi Qi’s hands, like they’d die before letting go.
The scene grew increasingly strange. The vendor finally couldn’t hold back and looked toward the one being tugged between the two sides. “Um, do you need help?”
She leaned in and whispered to Shi Qi, “The patrol team for the Lantern Festival is right nearby! I can help you call for them!”
More and more people were gathering, all turning their attention toward them.
“You two,” Shi Qi said with irritation, “have you made enough of a scene?”
The tugging from both sides stopped at the same time, and then both let go. Two nearly identical faces turned to look at him, speaking one after the other.
“I was wrong.”
“I’m sorry.”
Perhaps because they were essentially the same person, their expressions were eerily alike—eyes slightly lowered, looking particularly well-behaved.
If you ignored the fact that they were still secretly glaring at each other.
“…” Shi Qi had no choice. “I’m going to write my lantern.”
Before he left, he added deliberately, “Don’t fight.”
Shi Qi walked over to a nearby long table, picked up a brush, and carefully wrote down his wish, stroke by stroke.
He could feel how serious he was as he wrote, but he couldn’t see exactly what he had written, nor what kind of wish he had made.
In the dream, his mind drifted in and out of clarity. Everything felt like viewing flowers through mist, not entirely within his control, as though fate had already been decided.
“Finished writing?”
Shang Sui and the Alpha came over to find him.
Perhaps because of the scene earlier, they hadn’t resumed arguing. Shang Sui’s hands were empty, while the Alpha was holding a lantern, and it looked like he had written something too.
They went to the lakeside. When it came time to release the lanterns, the Alpha crouched down, and without realizing it, Shi Qi looked over at him.
As if sensing his gaze, the Alpha turned his eyes toward him. Unlike the overwhelming presence he had as an adult, his younger face didn’t carry Shang Sui’s aggressive aura, but was quieter and more withdrawn.
Shang Sui suddenly asked, “This annoying face of his—when you wake up, will you still remember it?”
Strange.
Even though he was very familiar with Shang Sui, he had never seen what he looked like at seventeen or eighteen, not even in photos. So why was the image in the dream so vivid?
When Shi Qi didn’t reply, the Alpha’s lips pressed into a thin line.
As if sensing the other version of himself was in a bad mood, Shang Sui spoke on his own, “Maybe it’s better not to remember. A dead-looking face, temperamental personality. And if you’re not careful, he’ll end up hurting you. No one would like someone like that.”
“No,” Shi Qi denied. “That’s not what I think.”
“Look over there!”
“They’re starting the fireworks—!”
The crowd’s noise drowned out Shang Sui’s voice. Shi Qi felt something stir in his chest and instinctively took a step forward.
“…I see.”
Shang Sui gave a soft laugh.
Everyone had gathered by the lake, waiting for the fireworks to begin from the island in the center.
When Shi Qi turned around again, he realized there was only one person left by his side.
At some point, Shang Sui’s figure had disappeared without a trace, leaving only Shi Qi and the Alpha. Shi Qi realized it a beat too late and looked down at his own hand.
His arm had become more slender, and his height had changed as well. Everything in his field of vision appeared taller and larger, and he had reverted to the form of a boy who had yet to differentiate.
Everything felt natural, as if this was how the dream was always meant to be.
Shen Qianyu had said that when taking medicine, memories and imagination could intermingle, and even people who didn’t originally exist in one’s memories might appear.
Correspondingly, it was possible to encounter a “guide of memory.”
The “guide” would appear in a familiar form, and without one realizing it, would lead them toward the truth hidden in their memories.
If “Shang Sui” was such a guide, then his presence meant that Shi Qi was already beginning to approach the fragmented truth. So what did the younger Alpha, who looked exactly like Shang Sui, represent…?
Before Shi Qi could make sense of it, a series of booming sounds rang out in the distance.
At exactly ten o’clock, fireworks began to explode from the island in the center of the lake.
Layer upon layer of blossoms bloomed across the night sky. The river lanterns on the water became their reflection. The boundaries between heaven and earth shimmered with radiant light, as if day and night had reversed.
The Alpha met his gaze for a moment, then suddenly asked, “What did you wish for?”
With Shang Sui’s disappearance, the dream seemed to have gradually returned to its proper course, and Shi Qi could finally recall what he had written on the lantern.
“I wished… Shang Sui can have an easier life.”
Shi Qi heard his younger self say it.
The Alpha, or rather, the younger version of Shang Sui, looked at him in surprise.
“You always seemed unhappy, like you had a lot of secrets.” Shi Qi looked into his eyes. “But being trapped in a house, even a beautiful one, would make anyone miserable. I didn’t know how to help you, so I made a wish for your life to be a little easier… What about you?”
“I’m sorry,” Shang Sui said quietly. “I lied to you.”
“Huh?” Shi Qi was stunned.
“I’m not actually locked up. What you thought were guards were just bodyguards hired by my family.”
“I’m not very good at interacting with people right now. It’s been a long time since I’ve dealt with strangers.”
There was a voice in his head telling him that saying this would only make him seem even weirder, but after struggling with it for a long time, Shang Sui still chose to confess. “But I wanted to see you again.”
The fireworks burst in Shi Qi’s ears, loud enough to drown out everything else, like a heart beating faster and faster.
On that midsummer night, at age fourteen or fifteen, he felt this light and wondrous feeling he had never known before.
While he had kept running into that house filled with Endless Summer flowers, the other person had secretly been making plans, hoping for their meeting just as much.
Afraid he would change his mind halfway through, Shang Sui simply sped up his words, “I was scared you’d think I was boring and wouldn’t come back, so I had them act like that.”
“You lied to me?” Shi Qi thought back to how carefully he’d avoided being discovered by those guards. “So that’s why you sometimes couldn’t help but laugh?”
“No! I wasn’t laughing at you,” Shang Sui hurried to explain. “I just thought… you were really interesting.”
As if realizing that “interesting” might not be the best word under the circumstances, Shang Sui apologized again, “I didn’t mean to make fun of you, I just—”
“That’s enough,” Shi Qi interrupted him.
Shang Sui’s heart sank.
But he had been in the wrong first. Even if Shi Qi was angry and didn’t want to see him again, that would have been entirely reasonable.
Shi Qi thought for a long time. Just as Shang Sui assumed he was about to be told to leave, Shi Qi suddenly began listing food, “Tomorrow, I want chocolate lava cake, raspberry ice cream, lemon cream puffs, and apple pie.”
He rattled off a long list of desserts. Realizing Shi Qi was giving him an out, Shang Sui immediately agreed, “Okay.”
Seeing that, Shi Qi tilted his head and looked at him. “I used to really dislike Alphas.”
Shang Sui couldn’t quite follow the sudden shift in topic. He echoed, “Dislike…?”
This is so fun.
Shi Qi thought.
It was the first time he had seen that expression. It looked so silly.
“Someone I knew went through differentiation and became an Alpha.”
Every time Fu Siyue went on about how he should become an Omega so they could get married, Shi Qi just wanted to kick him to the curb.
Get married?
Go marry yourself, you idiot.
“Alphas are all arrogant and overbearing, like they think they’re superior. But I think you’re different.”
Shi Qi’s eyes sparkled as he looked at Shang Sui. He even found him more attractive now than when they had first met, stripped of that lonely exterior. “Knowing you did it on purpose, it actually makes me kind of happy.”
Seeing Shang Sui completely freeze, Shi Qi started to get embarrassed and changed the subject. “So what was your wish?”
Shang Sui responded a beat late, “It already came true.”
He remembered nervously writing his wish on the lantern. After that night of thunder and rain when they had fallen asleep in each other’s arms, he had gradually realized that he didn’t want to keep hiding things from Shi Qi.
He had managed to hold onto the angel who passed by his windowsill, and then gotten greedy, hoping that person would accept the real him.
“My wish was that when I confessed today, Shi Qi wouldn’t be angry with me.”
…
Shi Qi’s eyelids twitched slightly as he slowly woke from the long dream.
Someone was gently stroking his back. Even after he had fallen asleep, the motion hadn’t stopped, as if trying to help him rest more peacefully.
He opened his eyes and met a familiar pair of fox-like ones in the dim light.
It was as if Shang Sui had been silently watching him the whole time, quietly keeping him company.
“Awake?” Shang Sui motioned to the window. “You slept for a long time. It’s almost dark.”
The lights in the room hadn’t been turned on. The soon-to-set sun shone through the window, casting a dusky glow across Shang Sui’s face.
Shi Qi looked dazed, struggling to pull himself out of the lingering dream.
If his guess was correct, then in his subconscious, he had chosen “Shang Sui” as the guide through his memories—someone who appeared in a familiar form, subtly leading him to recall the forgotten past.
And the younger Shang Sui… was what he had lost in memory.
Bickering noisily and never seeing eye to eye, just like when they were young, also matched the impression he had of Shang Sui’s personality.
Not wanting to pressure others, always seeming casual, yet revealing bits of sincerity through jokes.
It seemed he had understood the unspoken words of “Shang Sui” in the dream.
Even if, back then, I was expressionless, moody, and completely unlikable…
Could you not forget him, and not forget me either?
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Shang Sui asked when he noticed Shi Qi seemed deeply troubled. The usual clarity in his bright eyes was clouded over. He asked instinctively, “Did you have a nightmare?”
Shi Qi didn’t answer.
If I really had forgotten you, what were you feeling when we met again, never showing even a trace of anything unusual?
In Huijian’s courtyard, when we saw each other again for the first time after six years, what were you thinking then?
A long while later, Shi Qi finally replied in a low voice, “It wasn’t a nightmare.”
It was a dream, like fate.
His emotions surging unpredictably, he subconsciously leaned forward and buried his face in the crook of Shang Sui’s neck, catching the soothing scent of his pheromones.
Because of this clingy gesture, Shang Sui’s fingers, which had been stroking his back, paused. “Why are you acting like a spoiled child all of a sudden?”
He heard Shi Qi mumble, “I really like you a lot.”
“Is it because of what happened earlier?” Taking advantage of the fact that Shi Qi couldn’t see his face, Shang Sui pretended to stay composed. “No way. You were so provocative earlier, Xiao Qi. Now that it’s just the two of us, I’m not going easy on you.”
After a moment, he couldn’t help it. He smiled and hugged Shi Qi even tighter. “But I feel the same.”
