By the time Li Xuan arrived at the recording studio’s parking lot, Sheng Min’s interview was still ongoing.
While waiting, he opened the proposal for ‘Reverse Track’. From start to finish, he had handled everything himself—from planning to programming—so the document was brief, most of the details stored in his mind. He skipped to the final timeline section. While he had told Qi Boyuan six months, his personal plan only allocated four. Judging by his current progress, he was on track, but if he wanted to accelerate…
Lost in thought, he closed the document and rubbed his temples. He reached into the glove compartment for a pack of cigarettes. Just as he lit one outside the car, Sheng Min emerged from the elevator, wearing a mask and hat.
“Finished with the interview?” Li Xuan quickly discarded the cigarette into a trash bin, hiding it behind his back.
“Yeah, I told Yang Xu to head off first,” Sheng Min replied, his hair slightly damp from freshening up after the shoot.
A month had passed since their last meeting. Although they had exchanged daily texts and video calls, now that they were face to face, words suddenly seemed unnecessary. They exchanged a smile.
Li Xuan had the urge to hug him, but the parking lot wasn’t exactly the ideal place for an embrace. His arm twitched upward instinctively before he restrained himself, instead reaching out to gently brush away a stray bead of water from Sheng Min’s temple.
“Let’s get in the car,” he said, opening the door for Sheng Min. “Didn’t you say you were craving Thai food? I made a reservation at that place we liked. The timing should be just right.”
Sheng Min studied him for a moment, then took the car keys from his hand. “I’ll drive.”
“What’s wrong?”
Instead of answering, Sheng Min nudged him toward the passenger seat. “Hurry up.”
Baffled, Li Xuan found himself pushed into the seat. Sheng Min climbed into the driver’s side and fastened his seatbelt before saying, “You look exhausted. I’ll drive.”
“I don’t look that bad,” Li Xuan chuckled.
“You do,” Sheng Min insisted, his tone serious. “You clearly do.”
“Don’t be so stern—it’s scary.” Li Xuan laughed, reaching out to pinch Sheng Min’s cheek, but Sheng Min caught his hand midair.
“When did you go to bed last night?” Sheng Min asked, his tone tinged with worry.
Li Xuan hadn’t slept at all but hesitated to lie. Sheng Min didn’t wait for an answer. “When was your last proper meal?”
“This afternoon,” Li Xuan replied immediately, thankful to have a truthful answer.
“So you didn’t sleep,” Sheng Min concluded, pouting slightly. “And I saw you with a cigarette just now. You think tossing it quickly means I wouldn’t notice? Are you feeling dizzy or tired?”
“Your logic is a bit off,” Li Xuan replied with a soft laugh. “Why are you interrogating me like I’m a criminal?”
“You’re always like this,” Sheng Min said, his eyes soft yet brimming with concern, as if he were a gentle deer.
Li Xuan hadn’t felt particularly tired before, but under Sheng Min’s tender gaze, a wave of exhaustion suddenly hit him. Smiling faintly, he reached out a hand and said softly, “Don’t be mad. It’s my fault. Let me hold you for a moment. I missed you so much… I just want to hug you.”
Seeing the faint dark circles under his eyes, Sheng Min felt a pang of heartache. Without saying a word, he unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over, wrapping his arms around Li Xuan.
Li Xuan slowly closed his eyes, feeling the way Sheng Min’s arms wrapped around him, gently stroking his back with care. After a long while, Sheng Min softly asked, “What happened to make you this tired?”
True to his name, Sheng Min was always sharp and perceptive. Yet Li Xuan, out of habit, answered, “Nothing.”
Sheng Min stayed silent for a moment, then raised a hand to lightly brush Li Xuan’s temple. His tone remained gentle. “You know, I’m most afraid of hearing you say ‘nothing.’ It always makes me wonder—if it’s truly nothing, or if it’s something I can’t help with, something I can’t protect you from, so you just don’t tell me.”
It was the first time in Li Xuan’s life that someone had said something like that to him. He chuckled softly and repeated, “You want to protect me?”
“Shouldn’t I?” Sheng Min hugged him tighter, his slender arms trying to envelop him completely, as if stating the most natural thing in the world. “You’re my boyfriend, and you’ve always been protecting me.”
He pulled back a little, brushed a kiss against Li Xuan’s lips, and nuzzled his forehead. “Can’t you tell me?”
“Don’t use your charms on me.”
“Does it work?”
“It does,” Li Xuan admitted after a moment of thought. Sheng Min’s gaze stayed fixed on him, leaving him no choice but to answer casually, “Just some small issues, really… Shu Xin’s health has taken a turn, and Li Mingge called me again.”
“You can’t go back,” Sheng Min said immediately, alarmed at the mention of Li Mingge. “Don’t go back. They don’t treat you well.”
“I won’t go back,” Li Xuan reassured him, patting his cheek. “I always listen to my boyfriend.”
He sounded lighthearted, but Sheng Min wasn’t convinced. He thought back to the brief encounter he’d had with Li Xuan’s adoptive father. “Did he threaten you again? What does he want?”
The trouble Li Mingge caused had been ongoing lately, but Li Xuan merely smiled. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Nothing’s happened yet, and even if something does, I can handle it.”
“If something happens, you have to tell me.”
Li Xuan nodded. Seeing Sheng Min’s worried expression, he deliberately furrowed his brow. “There’s nothing serious, really. It’s just that the thought of him annoys me. You’ve seen him—he has such an irritating face.”
“Then don’t look at him. Look at me.”
“Alright, I’ll only look at you.”
It wasn’t clear if Sheng Min believed him. He childishly held out his pinky to make him promise. “If anything happens, tell me.”
Li Xuan agreed, cupping Sheng Min’s face and giving him another kiss.
“Then take a nap for now. I’ll wake you when we arrive.”
They lingered a little longer before Sheng Min finally let go. He leaned over to recline the passenger seat, adjusted the air conditioning, and grabbed a pillow and blanket from the backseat. By the time he draped the blanket over Li Xuan, the latter had already fallen asleep within that brief minute.
With a soft sigh, Sheng Min lowered his head and planted a gentle kiss on Li Xuan’s eyelid before starting the car.
When the car came to a stop, Li Xuan gradually regained consciousness. He reached out and touched Sheng Min’s hand before opening his eyes. “Where is this? Are we at the restaurant?”
“We’re downstairs at my place,” Sheng Min replied. “I called the restaurant and canceled the reservation. I ordered fresh groceries to be delivered. We’ll have dinner at home tonight. I’ll cook, and you can go upstairs and sleep some more.”
“That’s too much trouble.”
“I don’t think it’s any trouble at all.” Sheng Min poked the back of his hand. “I know you too well. No matter how good you sound, as soon as you’re out of my sight, you’ll start working overtime again. You promised to listen, so go upstairs, and I’ll watch you sleep.”
Still groggy and unable to argue, Li Xuan was easily convinced. He followed Sheng Min upstairs. Sheng Min handed him a set of his own sleepwear, and by the time he returned to the bedroom, the calming scent of aromatherapy was already wafting through the air.
Perhaps it was the aroma, or perhaps he was simply too exhausted, but as soon as Li Xuan’s head hit the pillow, he fell back into a deep sleep. He woke briefly twice, disturbed by birds chirping outside the window, but both times, Sheng Min was sitting by the bed, propping his head up with one hand and watching him.
“Go back to sleep. I’m here,” Sheng Min would say, covering Li Xuan’s eyes with his warm palm.
That warmth felt like some long-lost secret remedy. With Sheng Min by his side, the fatigue Li Xuan had been suppressing seemed to finally find a place to rest. At last, he had a long-overdue, peaceful sleep.
