Lin Wangye looked at him with a grin, eyes crinkling with amusement. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something lying quietly next to the pillow—it looked kind of like a sketchbook. His eyes lit up. “What’s that?”
“Some of my designs,” Shi Yuan said casually.
Lin Wangye was practically glowing with excitement and was about to ask if he could take a look, but then it hit him—designers take originality super seriously. Stuff like this, rough drafts and sketches, isn’t something you just show people.
So he swallowed the words that had already reached his throat, nodded, and didn’t say anything else.
But Shi Yuan caught the look—that obvious mix of curiosity and hesitation. His gaze dropped to the plastic-covered book beside him and he asked, “You wanna see it?”
Lin Wangye nodded like crazy. “Yeah, yeah—though I don’t have to…”
Shi Yuan clearly knew what was going through his head. He picked up the sketchbook and handed it over.
“It’s all just rough stuff. Doesn’t matter.”
“Nice!” Lin Wangye took it with both hands. “Then I’m flipping through it now!”
Shi Yuan chuckled, lips curling slightly. “Go ahead.”
Sitting up a bit straighter, Lin Wangye laid the sketchbook flat on the bed and started turning the pages one by one.
He’d seen a bunch of Shi Yuan’s designs in their past life too. Judging with the eyes of someone who wasn’t a pro, and comparing it with what he remembered, it felt like Shi Yuan’s work now was even more detailed.
Especially with those traditional Chinese vibes—cloud patterns, cranes… that kind of style. Everything looked so refined, down to the texture of the feathers, like they were about to flutter off the page.
Still, his technique felt a little unpolished here and there.
Back then, Shi Yuan’s designs were cleaner, more minimal, but every little detail hit just right—nothing extra, nothing missing. Everything just worked together naturally.
Now, with the focus more on intricacy, it felt a bit raw in comparison. A little less mature maybe. But still, honestly, it was already seriously impressive.
As he flipped through, Lin Wangye noticed most of the sketches weren’t fully finished. Some looked halfway done, others were just a bunch of loose lines—probably spur-of-the-moment ideas that got jotted down without being fully fleshed out.
While Lin Wangye looked through the pages, Shi Yuan sat beside him, slowly and patiently explaining the design concepts behind the sketches, tossing in bits of historical background and references where he could.
Lin Wangye even recognized a few of the early drafts of pieces that, later on, would blow up and make Shi Yuan famous.
Shi Yuan noticed him lingering on one page for a little too long and started getting curious.
“What’s wrong?” Shi Yuan asked.
“This qipao design… if the embroidery only has willow branches, don’t you think it’s a little plain?” Lin Wangye pointed at the sketch, specifically at the shoulder area. “What if you took some inspiration from that Song Dynasty painting ‘Willow and Birds’ and added a couple of birds here? Embroidering feathers works really well, and from a distance, it’d look like real birds resting on the shoulder.”
Following his finger, Shi Yuan’s eyes landed on that draft.
In the blink of an eye, his breath caught. His expression shifted—sharply.
The boy had just taken one look and, with a single offhand comment, shattered the creative block Shi Yuan had been stuck in for ages.
“You know ‘Willow and Birds’?” Shi Yuan asked.
“Of course.”
Lin Wangye answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world. ‘You taught me about it in our past life,’ he thought silently. ‘How could I not know?’
Even though that painting’s a classic from the Song Dynasty and kept in the Palace Museum, it’s not something they ever covered in school. It’s not like ‘The Goddess of the Luo River’ or ‘Along the River During the Qingming Festival’—famous enough for everyone to know. Usually only art students who are into that kind of thing or studying it seriously ever come across it.
For the first time, a crack appeared in Shi Yuan’s calm, steady mask. He stared at Lin Wangye in disbelief.
“How do you know about that?” he asked again.
Lin Wangye’s eyes curved into a smile. “Guess I was just born with good taste.”
A smile crept into Shi Yuan’s voice. “Not many people care about this kind of stuff. You’re something else.”
“Of course.”
They kept chatting as Lin Wangye flipped through the sketchbook until he hit a blank page and finally closed it. He looked down at the cover with a kind of reluctant fondness, holding it in both hands like he didn’t want to let go.
Three characters were written neatly across the front—graceful strokes, clean and flowing like water. The handwriting alone was impressive.
“Xu Suinian—” Lin Wangye read the name out loud slowly, dragging out the last syllable a little on purpose. Then he turned his head and shot Shi Yuan a crooked grin. “This happy little puppy’s got way more surprises than you think.”
A glint danced in Shi Yuan’s eyes, and his smile reached all the way up to them.
“Well now I’m really looking forward to it.”
Just as Lin Wangye was placing the sketchbook back where he found it, something popped into his mind.
“Oh, right—your leg makes it harder for you to get around, which must affect your income, yeah? So how about this: during evening study hall, you tutor me in math, and I’ll pay you the usual rate for private tutoring. Win-win, right?”
“I can help you with math,” Shi Yuan said, “but I’m not taking your money.”
Lin Wangye shook his head immediately. “No way. You have to take it. I’m super slow and dumb with math. Our class rep’s literally the kindest person alive and she almost got high blood pressure from trying to teach me. You’ve got no idea…”
“Don’t think of it as a salary—call it emotional compensation!”
But what Lin Wangye didn’t expect was that Shi Yuan, who’d always been super gentle and easygoing, suddenly stood firm on this. His voice was calm, but his stance couldn’t be clearer: “I’m not taking any money. Doesn’t matter what it’s for. I’m helping you because I want to.”
Lin Wangye, who’d just wanted to give him a bit of help without making it obvious, started to panic. “Come on, who tutors people for free?”
Shi Yuan didn’t even flinch, just looked away casually.
“Then go find someone else. I’m not taking it.”
“…No,” Lin Wangye mumbled, pouting and flopping back onto the bed like a kid who didn’t get what he wanted. “Fine. Then at least let me treat you to dinner, yeah?”
Shi Yuan chuckled and reached out to ruffle his hair. “That’s fine.”
“I didn’t bring my textbook today,” Lin Wangye said, stretching lazily. “Let’s start tomorrow.”
“You just woke up earlier, didn’t you? Wanna nap a bit more?”
As he spoke, Shi Yuan pulled a pillow from behind and handed it over.
“Mm.” Lin Wangye took the pillow, adjusted his position to something comfier, and mumbled, “I wanna hear a story…”
Shi Yuan lowered his voice to a gentle murmur. “What kind of story?”
No answer came.
After a few moments, there was just the sound of quiet, sleepy muttering. Shi Yuan leaned in to take a look—sure enough, the moment he’d asked, Lin Wangye had already drifted off.
Staring at that face so close to his, Shi Yuan’s gaze softened. He stayed still, sitting quietly, not saying another word.
Time slipped by, silent and fast.
The more you want to hold on, the quicker it runs.
The hospital was just a block away from No. 7 High, and at night, you could faintly hear the school bell ring through the quiet.
Not long after evening study ended, there was a knock at the door.
Lu Chengxuan walked in, and when he saw Lin Wangye still asleep, he looked a little surprised.
“He’s been sleeping since the afternoon?”
“No. We talked for a while in between.”
Shi Yuan adjusted his glasses. “What’s up?”
“I’m here to take him home.”
Hospitals have strict hygiene rules. Even if there are empty beds in a room, you can’t just crash there overnight. If you want to stay the night, you have to bring your own folding cot or spread out a sleeping bag on the floor.
There was no way Lin Wangye could stay overnight at the hospital.
Lu Chengxuan stepped forward, about to tap him on the shoulder to wake him up, but just as he lifted his arm, it was stopped midair.
Shi Yuan caught his questioning look, but said nothing. He simply bowed his head, reached out gently, and softly ran his fingers through Lin Wangye’s hair as he called out in a quiet voice, “Lin Wangye.”
The third time he called, Lin Wangye finally stirred. His eyelashes fluttered a bit, and in that cozy, peaceful silence, he slowly drifted back from his dream, half-lidded eyes blinking open groggily.
“Time to go home and sleep,” Shi Yuan said to him.
Only then did Lin Wangye notice the shadow nearby. He turned and saw Lu Chengxuan standing behind him. Rubbing his face and stretching lazily, he looked at Shi Yuan, a little pouty. “Let me stay here and sleep, just tonight…”
That soft, clingy tone instantly raised red flags for Lu Chengxuan, and he gave them both a long, suspicious look.
From the moment he walked into the room, he could tell something was… off.
“Go home and sleep,” Shi Yuan said gently. “There aren’t any extra blankets. If you try to sleep here hunched over, you’ll end up catching a cold—or worse, throw your back out.”
And Lin Wangye? He always listened to Shi Yuan.
So, after hearing that, he didn’t argue. He stood up obediently and said, “Then I’ll come see you again tomorrow.”
“I’ll be waiting,” Shi Yuan said, smiling as he waved. “Be careful on the way. Goodnight.”
Lu Chengxuan simply left him with a quiet ‘rest well’ before heading out. Lin Wangye, on the other hand, turned back to look every few steps, dragging out those few meters like he was walking a farewell parade.
He stopped by Room 502 to chat with Lin Shen for a bit. By the time they were done, it was somehow almost eleven without them even noticing. The two had no choice but to hurry home.
The cold wind on the street sobered Lin Wangye right up. He walked with both hands in his pockets, humming a little tune to himself, practically glowing. It was dead winter, but somehow the air around him felt like spring—like everything had softened under a filter of birdsong, blossoms, and warm sunshine.
They walked one block in silence before Lu Chengxuan finally asked, unable to hold back any longer.
“What’s got you in such a good mood?”
Lin Wangye scooped up a handful of snow from a roadside bush, blew a puff of warm air onto it, and instead of answering, turned to him with a question of his own: “Brother Lu, have you ever liked someone?”
The moment the words left his mouth, Lu Chengxuan dropped his gaze, his lashes casting shadows over his eyes as he fell into a long silence.
That reaction didn’t surprise Lin Wangye one bit. He’d never expected easy, open conversations with Lu Chengxuan anyway. So he just kept talking.
“When you like someone, you get it. You’ll feel happy for no reason at all. Like, really happy—from the heart. The world just feels… better, just because they’re in it.”
Lu Chengxuan was quiet for a beat after hearing that.
He didn’t deny anything. But all he said was: “Love isn’t always a good thing.”
“Of course it’s not always good,” Lin Wangye said, tossing the snowball he’d been rolling far down the street, then blew a puff of warm air into his hands. “But do you know when you can really tell that you love someone?”
Lu Chengxuan turned to meet his eyes, silently telling him to go on.
Lin Wangye pressed his cold hands to his cheeks and instinctively hunched his shoulders at the chill.
“It’s when that person can make you feel pain,” he said.
Their boots crunched through the snow, leaving behind two long trails on the sidewalk.
Lu Chengxuan looked away again, facing forward with a quiet sigh, briefly closing his eyes.
Hands back in his coat pockets, Lin Wangye tilted his head up to watch the snowflakes slowly fall under the streetlight. “Feelings can grow anywhere, under any condition. But only pain makes them real. If you really like someone, that person will always have the power to hurt you. That’s what’s so weird about love—no matter if the feelings it brings are good or bad, you take it all. Willingly.”
He paused there, then added softly, “Love, at its core, is beautiful.”
Lu Chengxuan took a moment to process all that, replaying the words in his head from start to finish. After a moment of silence, he finally asked, “You like Xu Suinian?”
“Yeah,” Lin Wangye answered without hesitation. “I like him.”
His honesty caught Lu Chengxuan off guard—he didn’t reply right away. It was obvious something was turning over in his mind, like he was working through a dozen conflicting thoughts. Eventually, he said, “But you guys just met yesterday.”
Lin Wangye grinned, bright as ever. “One day is enough.”
Lu Chengxuan studied his face for a while before asking, “What about Lin Shen? What’s he gonna think?”
That question made Lin Wangye falter mid-step. Guilt hit him a beat too late. He rubbed the tip of his nose sheepishly. “Let’s… not tell him for now.”
But of course, Lu Chengxuan wasn’t going to let that slide.
“Why tell me but not him?”
“Uh…”
Honestly, there was no real reason not to tell Lin Shen.
I mean, in his last life, Shi Yuan and Lin Shen were close for years—real friends. But then somehow, things turned, and Lin Shen’s kid ended up falling for him. Even if, hypothetically, they actually got together… what then? Would that mean Shi Yuan would have to call Lin Shen ‘Dad’?
Lin Wangye could afford to be reckless. He could afford to throw everything aside for love.
But Shi Yuan couldn’t.
This moral shackle—it was real. Tightly locked around Lin Wangye’s neck like a chain, no matter how different things were in this life.
Even though nothing was the same this time around, that faint sense of ‘off-limits’ still clung to Lin Wangye like a shadow. He’d always gone soft around his dad, always felt that pang of guilt just being in front of him. It was deep in his bones, and he wasn’t shaking it anytime soon.
After thinking it through, Lin Wangye turned to Lu Chengxuan and said, “If he finds out now, he’s gonna ask a ton of questions. He might even say I’m rushing things. He’ll know when it’s time. So, Brother Lu, please don’t say anything yet, okay? Just keep it between us!”
Lu Chengxuan didn’t agree or disagree. Just stayed quiet.
Still, deep down, hearing Lin Wangye liked someone else… it lifted something off his chest he didn’t even realize was weighing him down.
When they got home, Lu Wei was waiting as usual. She gave them both a hug before heading off to bed.
After showering, Lin Wangye dashed straight to his room, flopped onto his bed, and grabbed his charging phone like it was treasure.
[Xiao Lin Bullied by Math]: Just got home and showered, now I’m lying in bed about to sleep. Did you fall asleep yet?
[A]: Nope, I was waiting for your message.
[A]: Go to sleep now. You’ve got class tomorrow.
[Xiao Lin Bullied by Math]: Mm! You rest well too!
[Xiao Lin Bullied by Math]: Can I come visit you after class tomorrow at noon?
[A]: Of course you can.
[Xiao Lin Bullied by Math]: Yay! Then I’m off to sleep. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow!
[Xiao Lin Bullied by Math]: (little dog holding a rose in its mouth leaning against a wall.jpg)
[A]: Same here. Goodnight ^^
Lin Wangye stared at that last message for a long time, face practically glowing.
Dopamine, laced with that sugar-sweet buzz of puppy love, exploded in his brain and rushed through his whole body.
I mean—this is flirting, right?
Totally counts as flirting, yeah?
The more he analyzed that chat, the more convinced he was. For someone like Uncle Shi to say something like ‘I stayed up waiting for your message’—come on, that meant something.
That definitely meant something.
A sign that he’d officially carved out a little space in Shi Yuan’s heart.
Cross-legged on his bed, Lin Wangye closed his eyes like he was about to enter some meditative trance. After a good, deep think, he finally grabbed his phone again.
Time to drop something big.
Outside, the hospital at night was dead quiet. Almost haunting in its stillness.
The empty hospital room seemed even more vast in the stillness, the silence almost oppressive.
Shi Yuan’s phone screen lingered on a brief conversation thread. He stared at it for a long time, his finger hovering over the ‘Voice Call’ button, yet he never pressed it.
After much hesitation, he finally switched to click on Lin Wangye’s profile.
Lin Wangye’s WeChat profile picture was a yellow puppy with a blue sky and white clouds in the background. The puppy had a green watermelon rind on its head, playfully sticking out its tongue at the camera.
The image of the boy with his soft, fluffy hair and the thought of little ears sprouting from his head suddenly filled Shi Yuan’s mind. The image was so vivid and endearing that he couldn’t help but smile and linger on the picture, even zooming in for a few more seconds until his phone screen went dark.
He unlocked the phone again and opened the Moments tab. Then, his gaze froze.
*
Happy Puppy:
I want to be by your side.
Today, tomorrow, every day, year after year.
[21 minutes ago]
Hello, everyone ヾ(＾∇＾). I hope you enjoyed the story! If you’re feeling generous, please buy me a coffee, share/comment on my translated works! Check out the link below for early chapters. (๑>ᴗ<๑)
