After starting work, Qin Mudong often had to follow projects in the lab, and Lu Xingjia was busy with classes and training, so the two only really saw each other in the evenings when they returned home.
Lu Xingjia occasionally complained aloud, but in truth, he was very satisfied with his current life. In this lifetime, he had chosen the path he most wanted to take and had gained a lover who deeply loved him—this was enough.
It was Qin Mudong who had trouble adjusting to the lifestyle of rarely seeing each other. After finishing his last project, he simply took his annual leave to stay at home with Lu Xingjia.
At first, Lu Xingjia welcomed this.
Qin Mudong used to come home late because of work. The house was always dark when he returned—just Lu Xingjia alone. Several times, he had fallen asleep on the sofa waiting for Qin Mudong to come home. But now it was different. No matter when he came home, in the sea of lights from thousands of homes, there was always one that belonged to him.
Qin Mudong even started learning to cook for him. It had to be said—academic geniuses had talents far beyond ordinary people. In just a few weeks, Qin Mudong’s cooking skills had already surpassed his.
Every time Lu Xingjia came home, there would be warm meals waiting. He could curl up in his lover’s arms and talk with him. This was supposed to be a blissful life. But as time went on, something started to feel off.
After their affectionate time together always came the “most anticipated” part.
Lu Xingjia, exhausted from a full day of work, would drag his tired body home—only to find Qin Mudong full of energy. A day or two was fine, but after a while, Lu Xingjia simply couldn’t keep up.
Qin Mudong had too much stamina, and being cooped up at home with nowhere to vent, he practically wore Lu Xingjia out every day until his back and waist ached. And the next day, he still had to drag his sore body to work.
Lu Xingjia was suffering silently.
So when Ji Angran asked him to hang out, he almost agreed without a second thought.
After graduation, Ji Angran also joined a research institute, while Qiu Ruifeng didn’t continue working in physics and instead followed his parents into finance. Their journey to being together was rough, the biggest obstacle being Ji Angran’s parents.
Ji Angran’s parents were ordinary people who placed high hopes on their son. Naturally, they couldn’t accept him being with another man. When the relationship was discovered, Ji Angran was still in college. His parents went so far as to make him take a year off school and kept him at home, not letting him go anywhere.
Ji Angran was stubborn too. He had always listened to his parents, but on this matter, he refused to compromise. He wouldn’t break up with Qiu Ruifeng, no matter what. So the two sides were at a stalemate for a year.
In the end, he was their only son. They couldn’t keep him at home forever. With the persuasion of relatives and friends, his parents eventually agreed to let him return to school—but they still couldn’t get past it emotionally. They said they no longer had a son named Ji Angran and even forbade him from coming home.
The turning point came the year Ji Angran graduated.
It was a stressful time. Without his parents’ support, he worked desperately to find a job, eager to prove himself to them. One night while showering, he blacked out and collapsed in the bathroom. Luckily, Qiu Ruifeng found him in time and rushed him to the hospital.
Though he got to the hospital quickly, the outlook wasn’t good—he had hit his head during the fall, suffered internal bleeding, and fell into a deep coma.
When tragedies happen to others, they seem surreal and dramatic. But when it happens to your own child, Ji Angran’s parents felt like the sky was collapsing.
They sold their house, spent all their savings, and no friend or relative was willing to lend them more money—only Qiu Ruifeng never left Ji Angran’s side.
The once playful Qiu Ruifeng seemed like a changed man. He convinced his parents to lend Ji Angran the money they had saved for his future house. Every day, rain or shine, he sat by Ji Angran’s bedside, talking to him, wiping his body.
The day before the surgery, Ji Angran’s father told Qiu Ruifeng: “If my son wakes up, his second life is thanks to you. You must walk this road together.”
Qiu Ruifeng said, “I will. I promise.”
Perhaps fate favored these lovers who had gone through so much. The surgery was successful, and Ji Angran recovered well, with no major complications.
Over the following years, the two of them worked hard to repay the debt, eventually saving up for a down payment and buying a small apartment. Ji Angran’s parents even helped them furnish it—finally accepting their relationship, more or less.
If Ji Angran had one complaint, it was that Qiu Ruifeng treated him too carefully. A slight headache or cold would make him panic. Other than going to work, he barely let Ji Angran out of the house, treating him like a nationally protected endangered species.
One wanted to get out and breathe fresh air, the other needed an outlet for all that leftover energy—their goals aligned perfectly. So Ji Angran and Lu Xingjia quickly agreed to go hiking over the weekend.
Qin Mudong didn’t mind. Qiu Ruifeng initially objected, but under Lu Xingjia’s persuasion and Ji Angran’s gentle pestering, he eventually gave in.
Early Saturday morning, the four of them drove up the mountain. Qin Mudong drove while Qiu Ruifeng sat in the backseat, bragging non-stop to Lu Xingjia.
“Look at this watch—my Xiao Ran bought it for me.”
“Look at my shoes—Xiao Ran snagged them for me.”
“Check this out…”
Lu Xingjia leaned his head on his hand in exasperation, once again recalling the trauma of being spammed by Qiu Ruifeng’s posts in his past life.
Ji Angran, sitting next to them, was so embarrassed he tried to stuff a bag of chips into Qiu Ruifeng’s mouth to shut him up. Qiu Ruifeng just laughed and tore open the bag, then turned to Lu Xingjia and said, “See how sweet my Xiao Ran is? He even gives me snacks. Qin-ge hasn’t given you anything.”
“…”
Lu Xingjia couldn’t take it anymore. “He’s driving.”
The two of them were back to bickering like schoolboys, while Ji Angran watched with great amusement. Qin Mudong, driving silently, furrowed his brow—but thankfully, they soon arrived at the foot of the mountain. After parking, the group shouldered their gear and began their climb.
The temperature in the mountains was cooler, and the air was fresh. A clear little stream trickled down from the mountain top, and if you lifted the stones on the banks, you could see crabs hiding underneath.
Deeper into the trail, they passed through a dense hawthorn grove. It was late autumn—the perfect season for hawthorn fruit. The bright red berries hung heavily from the branches, with some ripe ones having already fallen to the ground. Looking up from below, the mountain steps were completely covered in red, like an endless crimson carpet.
Along the way, they came across several people carrying bags and picking hawthorn. Lu Xingjia couldn’t resist and picked one to try. As soon as he bit into it, his face scrunched up. “So sour!”
Qiu Ruifeng, unwilling to believe it, picked a bright red one off the ground, wiped it twice, and popped it in his mouth.
“How is it?” Lu Xingjia asked.
The moment he finished asking, Qiu Ruifeng spat it out. “Pfft! That’s insanely sour!”
Qin Mudong explained calmly, “These are all wild fruits, not cultivated. Of course they’re sour.”
Qiu Ruifeng frowned. “Then why were those people picking them?”
Ji Angran answered, “They can be dried and used to brew tea.”
Qin Mudong added, “It helps with digestion and boosts immunity.”
“Boosts immunity?! Then we’ve got to pick some too!”
Originally, they were just there to have fun. But the moment he heard the words “boosts immunity,” Qiu Ruifeng got fired up. He dug out a bag from his backpack and started picking hawthorn just like everyone else.
Ji Angran tried to talk him out of it. “You can just buy some later. No need to go through the trouble.”
Qiu Ruifeng insisted, “No way. This is for you. I have to pick the best ones.”
Ji Angran turned his head away, a bit shy, while Lu Xingjia watched with a bright smile.
Back when Ji Angran’s family didn’t approve of the relationship, Lu Xingjia had worried about them a lot. Seeing how well they got along now, he didn’t even mind being force-fed a little PDA.
Qiu Ruifeng was quick and efficient—he soon filled an entire bag. The mountain path was steep, and carrying too much was inconvenient. Ji Angran tried a few times to convince him to throw it out, but Qiu Ruifeng treated the hawthorn like treasure and carried it with him everywhere.
In the end, Ji Angran gave up and let him do as he pleased.
As the sky gradually darkened, they finally reached the peak. After laying down moisture-proof mats and setting up their tents, the group sat outside chatting.
The stars in the mountains were far more abundant than in the city. The sky was filled with them. Lu Xingjia asked Qin Mudong to point them out, and Qin Mudong patiently identified them one by one just for him.
“That’s Ursa Major—the Big Dipper is part of it.”
“Next to it is Ursa Minor.”
“That over there is Leo Minor.”
…
Lu Xingjia asked, “What about that bright one over there? Is that Venus?”
Qin Mudong said, “That one is Venus, but it’s not the brightest.”
“Then which one is the brightest?”
Qin Mudong glanced at him. “You want me to say it?”
Lu Xingjia froze slightly, and his face slowly turned red.
“No need…” he mumbled softly.
Even after being together for so long, he still had no defense against Qin Mudong’s sweet talk.
Qin Mudong smiled, his dark eyes sparkling in the night. “Xingxing, you are the brightest.”
Lu Xingjia gave a small, awkward “mm” and turned away shyly.
They watched the stars a bit longer until night fully fell. The temperature dropped, mosquitoes came out, and the four of them returned to their tents to rest. The tents were for two people each—naturally, Lu Xingjia and Qin Mudong shared one, while Ji Angran and Qiu Ruifeng shared the other.
Qin Mudong seemed truly tired. He lay in his sleeping bag without saying a word. But Lu Xingjia, excited from the trip, couldn’t sleep at all. He tossed and turned for a long time. The tent’s ceiling was transparent, so he lay on his back, staring up at a small patch of starry sky.
There were no lights in the mountains—just pure, absolute darkness. You couldn’t even see your hand in front of your face. Only the moon and stars offered faint light from above.
Lu Xingjia didn’t touch his phone, which lay beside him. He had no idea what time it was or when the sun would rise. But he wasn’t in any rush.
The sun would rise tomorrow, just as they were all heading toward a brighter future.
Everything felt perfect. If there was only one downside, it was that after they got back home, Qin Mudong pinned Lu Xingjia down and went at it several more times—claiming he was “making up for” what he missed that night on the mountain. By the end, Lu Xingjia couldn’t even cry anymore and still had no idea when exactly that debt had been incurred.
Later, the four of them went on a few more trips. And every time they returned, Qin Mudong would “punish” him just as fiercely. That’s when Lu Xingjia finally understood—Qin Mudong, even as an adult, was still as childish as he’d been in high school. After all these years, he never got tired of being jealous over the same things.
But honestly, Lu Xingjia didn’t mind at all.
He loved every bit of it.