FQ chapter 37

The forest was very quiet. The sounds from the camp didn’t reach them. Only when the wind passed through did the tall trees rustle softly.

You’re also a tree, Luan Ye.

In 27 years of living, it was the first time he’d ever heard someone describe him that way.

He lowered his eyes and looked for a few seconds at his fingertips still gently held by Fan Qing. The sensation of Fan Qing writing in his palm still lingered—tingly, spreading from his skin through his nerves to his heart.

He looked back up at Fan Qing. “You—”

He cleared his throat. “You really haven’t dated anyone?”

“…No.” Fan Qing had been bracing himself for this and answered with a touch of resignation.

“That doesn’t seem right.”

“What doesn’t?”

“Your looks, your personality, the way you talk.” Luan Ye smiled faintly. “Surely someone must’ve had a crush on you. You’ve gotten love letters or snacks or something, haven’t you?”

Fan Qing said nothing.

“You have, haven’t you?” Luan Ye raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t accept it?”

“…No.”

“Why not?”

“No reason,” Fan Qing replied. “Just never thought about it.”

“No girls you liked?” Luan Ye asked.

Fan Qing glanced at him. “No.”

“Oh.” Luan Ye smiled. “Still hasn’t awakened.”

Still hasn’t awakened?

Maybe. At least back when he’d received confessions or little gifts, Fan Qing never once thought of dating anyone.

But now?

Luan Ye’s fingers were cooler than his own, with bones that felt unusually soft—comfortable to hold.

“And you? Back when you were dating…” Fan Qing still hadn’t let go. “Was it when you realized you liked men?”

Luan Ye was silent for a few seconds. “Yeah. I was born this way.”

Fan Qing didn’t know what to say, so he just hummed in response.

If Luan Ye was born this way, then his boyfriend must be too.

Then what about me? At least for the first ten-plus years of his life, Fan Qing had never thought about liking anyone—boy or girl. It all seemed meaningless to him.

But lately, with Luan Ye, he could feel his own contradictions, hesitations, and… impulses.

Like getting drunk and kissing him.

“But not everyone’s the same,” Luan Ye suddenly said.

“During puberty, hormones are all over the place, and people are still exploring their feelings. Some go through rebellious phases and think liking the same sex is cool. Some just want to stand out. Others… are just curious.”

Fan Qing looked at him, lips pressed tight.

Luan Ye smiled a little. “All of those are normal.”

“What if it’s none of those?”

“No rebellion, no showing off…” Fan Qing tightened his grip on Luan Ye’s hand slightly. His voice was a bit strained. “Not curiosity either.”

Luan Ye paused, raising his eyes to meet his.

“Maybe it’s just… liking one person. Just them.”

They had been in the forest a while. The light beneath the canopy had dimmed. In the damp, mossy air, the reflection of trees shimmered in Fan Qing’s eyes.

Luan Ye looked quietly at Fan Qing. Fan Qing’s gaze was so clear, so transparent, it made his heart skip a beat.

How strange. Aside from involuntary palpitations when he was sick, he hadn’t felt that way about anyone in years.

Luan Ye opened his mouth but didn’t get to speak—someone interrupted them.

“Hey! There you are!”

Someone called out and took a few steps toward them.

Fan Qing instinctively let go of Luan Ye’s hand and took a step back, turning toward the voice.

Luan Ye smiled and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“We were wondering where you went,” said Lao He. He stopped a few steps away, unaware of what he’d walked in on.

“They’re starting the barbecue. Let’s head back. It’s not safe in the woods after dark.”

“Got it,” Fan Qing replied and turned to Luan Ye.

“Let’s go,” Luan Ye said.

Leaving the quiet forest and returning to the lively camp, Fan Qing felt slightly out of place. Maybe because his thoughts were still lingering on what had just been said between him and Luan Ye.

Luan Ye seemed completely normal, sitting by the firepit with the others. The flames lit up his face, giving him a warm glow.

The chatter lasted late into the night. Some people returned to their tents, others stayed up playing cards or chatting around the fire.

Fan Qing turned to Luan Ye and asked, “Ready to sleep?”

Luan Ye nodded.

There were many tents in the camp. The bigger ones fit three or four people; Luan Ye had chosen a small one-person tent. Lao He was already snoring loudly inside. Fan Qing grabbed Luan Ye’s sleeping bag planning to hand it to him.

Stepping outside, Fan Qing glanced at the firepit—empty now.

He froze, then noticed Luan Ye lying alone on a nearby slope, almost blending into the night.

Fan Qing let out a breath and walked over.

“You—”

He was about to ask if Luan Ye was tired, but before he could finish, Luan Ye raised a finger to his lips and motioned shhh, then pointed upward.

Fan Qing looked up—and saw what Luan Ye was pointing at.

A sky full of stars.

The surrounding mountains wrapped around them, but the sky overhead stretched infinitely. There was no moon that night. The entire galaxy glittered overhead, connected to the distant snowy peaks—like a dream.

Fan Qing gazed for a while, then lowered his head again. “Want me to get your camera?”

“No need.” Luan Ye was stunned for a moment, then smiled. “Let’s just look.”

A few moments later, Fan Qing lay down beside him.

Above them, the Milky Way spread out like a vast net—brilliant yet silent, distant yet radiant. The laughter from the firepit drifted faintly over, blurred by the wind.

Wind brushed their shoulders. Above the wind, stars shimmered. Beneath the sky, on a stone-covered slope, they were as small as two blades of grass.

Fan Qing heard Luan Ye softly whisper in English:

“The cosmos is within us. We are made of stardust.”

The universe is in our hearts; we are made of stardust.

Luan Ye had photographed countless starry skies, auroras, and meteor showers in foreign countries. Many times, he had waited alone behind the lens, braving the cold to capture beams of light that had traveled light-years across the universe. And each time, he’d think—if he died under such a sky, it might actually be kind of romantic.

But tonight, he lay on soft grass and stone, the firepit still burning in the distance. Light from ten thousand years ago spilled down from the sky—and beside him was Fan Qing.

In this boundless darkness, within the void of the cosmos, for the first time, he felt a kind of peace—not from seeking death, but from being alive.

“Fan Qing,” Luan Ye said suddenly.

Fan Qing turned to look at him, but Luan Ye continued gazing at the stars. He didn’t meet his eyes. After a long pause, he finally spoke.

“Even though I was annoyed when I first came here, this past month…” Luan Ye smiled faintly. “It’s been nice.”

“I got to know people in the village, did things I never would’ve done before, took a lot of photos, and—”

He turned to face Fan Qing, his voice soft.

“I met you.”

Fan Qing looked at Luan Ye, and for a moment, felt doomed.

There was no alcohol tonight, but under this vast starry sky, he wanted to kiss Luan Ye again.

But Luan Ye stood up right after speaking, grabbed his sleeping bag, and brushed off the dirt on his clothes.

“It’s late. Let’s sleep.”

……

The next morning, the group left camp and headed to the glacial lake.

Though it was summer, the mountain air was cold. Glaciers and snow-covered peaks remained unmelted across the lake. The water was as clear as jade. Waterfalls gushed from melting snow, and mani stone piles stood by the shore, giving the scene an ethereal feel.

As the guide, Fan Qing reminded everyone, “Take care when taking photos. Don’t go into the water. Pack out your trash.”

The scenery was beautiful, but after witnessing the vast galaxy the night before, the lake felt a little less awe-inspiring to Luan Ye. He snapped a few casual shots with his camera and turned to look for Fan Qing.

People were scattered around taking photos and exploring. This trail was popular among hikers. There were signs of previous picnics, with water bottles and snack wrappers wedged in the rocks.

Fan Qing seemed used to it. He pulled a trash bag from his pack and began picking up the litter piece by piece.

Luan Ye stared at his back. While everyone marveled at the wonders of nature, no one noticed what Fan Qing was doing—but he didn’t mind, moving efficiently and naturally, as if it were just another part of the day.

It wasn’t until Luan Ye squatted down beside him that Fan Qing spoke.

“Don’t—don’t touch it. It’s dirty.” Fan Qing didn’t even look up.

“Do we have to carry this down the mountain?”

“There’s a trash bin on the way down.” After picking up the trash on the ground, Fan Qing stood up and wiped his hands with a tissue he had prepared.

“But a lot of people are too lazy to carry it down.”

Luan Ye looked at him for a moment and smiled slightly.

On the way back from the ice lake, the descent wasn’t much easier than the climb. The path was slippery and it was easy to slip on moss. The group gradually split into two: novices and veterans. Lao He took the back while Fan Qing led in front, making sure no one fell or got left behind.

They turned around a mountainside and reached the so-called “Devil’s Slope.” Due to differences in stamina, the group spread out further into small clusters.

Luan Ye and Fan Qing were at the front, leading the way. Sometimes they had to stop and wait for those behind to catch up. They found a relatively flat spot to rest, regain energy, and wait for the others.

Luan Ye was in a good mood, wandering around the small area, taking pictures on his phone. Fan Qing sat behind him, drinking water.

Luan Ye took a few steps into the woods. The distance between them was growing, but he didn’t notice.

Then suddenly, a cheerful whistling sound came from behind.

Luan Ye quickly turned around. Fan Qing was smiling at him, something in his mouth.

“What the—” Luan Ye laughed, walking over. “What was that sound?”

Fan Qing spat something out of his mouth and plucked a small plant from the lush grass beside him. This time, Luan Ye saw clearly—it looked like a mini version of a pea pod.

Fan Qing split the pod open along the seam, removed the seeds, plucked one end, and put it in his mouth.

A sound came out, a bit like a bird call, a bit like a whistle, very sharp and loud in the dense forest.

Luan Ye was amazed. “Damn, what is that?”

Fan Qing chuckled and took the “whistle” out of his mouth.

“Xiangxiang grass.” (Whistling grass)

Luan Ye blinked. “…Pretty literal name.”

“There’s a lot of it on the village ridges. We used to pick them after school as kids, seeing who could make the loudest sound.”

Luan Ye imagined the scene and laughed. “You had such a rich childhood.”

He bent down and picked a plump piece of whistling grass from the pile, copied Fan Qing’s method, and tried blowing it.

The same sound echoed from his mouth.

“Not bad,” Fan Qing said with a smile. “Most people can’t get it to make any sound.”

Luan Ye was fascinated and kept blowing it a few more times.

The sounds echoed in all directions, long and clear.

“Isn’t this basically a wild whistle?” Luan Ye said after a short rest, examining the little plant, then turned to Fan Qing. “The sound’s pretty much like a normal whistle. What if someone thinks—”

Before he could finish, Fan Qing suddenly reached out and tapped Luan Ye’s lips with his index finger.

Caught off guard, Luan Ye’s words got stuck in his throat. He noticed Fan Qing’s brows had furrowed.

“I… think I heard someone calling for help.”