Sheng Min took a few seconds to process before confirming he hadn’t misunderstood. “You were at the recording studio all morning?”
Li Xuan stiffly nodded, letting out a light “mm.”
Sheng Min’s eyes widened slightly. Li Xuan raised his hand to cover Sheng Min’s eyes, his voice low as he said, “Don’t laugh at me.”
Sheng Min’s lashes fluttered against Li Xuan’s palm. Since his vision was blocked, he instinctively stepped closer to Li Xuan, but he didn’t move Li Xuan’s hand away.
“When did you get there?” Sheng Min suddenly recalled the fleeting glimpse he’d caught earlier. Hesitating, he asked, “This morning, when I went to the studio… I thought I saw a car that looked like yours. Was that you?”
He couldn’t see Li Xuan’s expression, but after a long silence, he heard Li Xuan reluctantly admit, “It was me… I planned to drop you off this morning, but I saw Yang Xu was already there. So I bought a ticket last minute. Once I passed the check-in, my phone was taken.”
He spoke hastily and concisely, noticing how Sheng Min was barely holding back a smile. “Fine, go ahead and laugh if you want.”
Li Xuan rarely used this tone. This time, Sheng Min couldn’t hold it in and chuckled, gently pulling down the hand blocking his vision. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to the airport?”
Li Xuan didn’t answer.
“You didn’t want me to know?”
“Mm.”
“Why?”
Li Xuan didn’t answer. After a while, he asked, “Are you upset?”
Sheng Min shook his head. “I was just a little worried.”
“Worried about what?”
Yeah, what was he worried about? Sheng Min wondered.
It turned out that the first thing love brought with it was fear. Was love strong or fragile? He didn’t know. But he had already tasted its other side.
Love doesn’t turn things into gold; it turns people into jade. To love someone is to turn them into the most fragile thing in your heart. Fearful that even a drop of rain or a gust of wind could cause separation.
“I was worried about you,” he said softly, reaching out to lightly touch Li Xuan’s face.
Li Xuan gazed at him apologetically, earnestly saying, “I’m sorry, I—”
“It’s really fine. I’m not upset, truly. I wouldn’t lie to you,” Sheng Min said, pausing briefly before continuing awkwardly, “If anything… I am a little mad at myself.”
Li Xuan was stunned, listening as Sheng Min said, “I don’t know if you’re aware… When I couldn’t reach you, I ended up calling Qi Boyuan.”
The statement was awkward, like a tongue twister, but neither of them laughed. Sheng Min watched Li Xuan’s reaction, but there wasn’t much surprise in his expression. “I saw his call. I was in a rush to find you and haven’t gotten back to him yet… What about it?”
“You’re not angry?”
Li Xuan shook his head. “Why would I be?”
“But I feel bad…” Sheng Min said softly, his brows furrowing unconsciously. “Even before I made that call, I regretted it. And afterward, too. But at the time, I couldn’t stop myself… I really don’t like that about myself.”
He hesitated for a moment, catching Li Xuan’s gaze. Then, after a soft sigh, he continued, “When I care about someone, I don’t want to be like this. But when I made that call, I felt like I was no different from her.”
“That’s not the same,” Li Xuan interrupted firmly. “Sheng Min…”
“Let me finish,” Sheng Min said, choosing his words carefully as he spoke gently but with conviction. “No matter what our relationship is, you’re completely free. That will never change. I’ve always told myself that, and it’s how it should be… But I didn’t stick to it.”
He smiled faintly, self-deprecatingly, his voice lowering. “Turns out, I’m someone who says one thing and does another.”
Li Xuan remained silent for a moment before placing his hands on Sheng Min’s shoulders, causing Sheng Min to tremble slightly.
“Come here,” he said, glancing around. Across from them, a broken escalator light had a “Under Maintenance” sign next to it. Pulling Sheng Min along, they walked down a few steps, and in the dimly lit area, Li Xuan embraced him.
“It’s not just because of your mom, but also because of Li Mingge and Shu Xin, isn’t it?” he whispered near Sheng Min’s ear, feeling the person in his arms stiffen.
“It’s okay,” Li Xuan said. “Do you know what I think?”
“What?” Sheng Min’s voice was muffled against his chest.
“I think you’re adorable,” Li Xuan couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Stop talking nonsense,” Sheng Min murmured, shifting slightly in his arms. Li Xuan tightened his hold. “Alright, alright.”
“Sheng Min,” he said, calling his name. He tilted his head to kiss Sheng Min’s hair, his voice calm and steady. “You’re different from anyone else. No one can tie me down—only the person I willingly want to be tied down by.”
“I don’t want to—”
“But I do.”
Sheng Min slowly lifted his head from Li Xuan’s embrace. “Do you ever feel like it’s a burden?”
“Never…” Li Xuan thought seriously for a moment before saying suddenly, “Should I tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“You’re not allowed to laugh at me.”
“You already said that earlier.”
“Promise?”
“Okay.”
Sheng Min obediently nodded but didn’t hear Li Xuan speak for a long time. He lifted his head to look at him. Li Xuan gently smoothed his slightly messy hair before finally speaking. “Actually, I didn’t just come to pick you up this morning—I never went back last night. Don’t look at me like that. Let me finish. I planned to return to the office, but I kept thinking about you for some reason. Every time I was about to leave, I couldn’t bring myself to go.”
“But you texted me saying you had arrived…”
“That was a lie.” Li Xuan looked slightly guilty. “I didn’t want you to wait too long.”
“Then why didn’t you come up?”
“I was afraid you’d already fallen asleep… Besides, I had already told you I wouldn’t come up. Going back on my word would seem ridiculous.”
Sheng Min responded with a neutral “Oh,” his tone giving away no emotion. Li Xuan rarely felt shy, but he smiled awkwardly. “I stayed downstairs and felt like time flew by. I saw the leaves of your epiphyllum plant on the balcony swaying back and forth, and then it was dawn… Last time, on your birthday, I saw a bud on it. Has it bloomed yet?”
“You can come up and see for yourself.”
Li Xuan chuckled and added, “When morning came, I thought it’d be the perfect chance to take you to the studio. I bought a matcha cake for your breakfast, but just as I got downstairs, Yang Xu arrived… The cake’s still in my car. Everything after that was true. I didn’t know how to tell you this—it felt a bit embarrassing.”
“What’s embarrassing about it?” Sheng Min blinked.
“I can’t explain.” Li Xuan shook his head. “Maybe it’s because I’ve never felt this way before. Honestly, before coming to find you yesterday, I thought I missed you simply because we hadn’t seen each other in a long time.” He paused for a moment, his voice dropping several decibels, almost a whisper. “But even after seeing you, I still missed you. I didn’t know it could feel like this. I barely recognize myself anymore, and I didn’t want you to know… Did you cast some spell on me?”
“If anyone cast a spell, it’s you on me,” Sheng Min murmured softly.
They looked at each other silently, and for a moment, in the darkness, they seemed like strangers who had coincidentally crossed paths. Of course, they weren’t travelers meeting by chance, but this journey was one they had never ventured on before.
This wasn’t a scene from any of Sheng Min’s scripts, nor was it a code Li Xuan had ever written. Though love, throughout history, should be similar and devoid of surprises, it still surpassed everything they had learned or controlled in their past twenty years. On this unknown road lay an unfamiliar version of themselves, full of flaws and shortcomings they’d never considered. What else could they offer each other but companionship? Perhaps only the understanding of shared feelings: ~I feel what you feel.
“Do you feel better now?” Li Xuan asked when Sheng Min didn’t respond.
“Don’t make me lose track of you again.” Sheng Min didn’t answer directly, staring at him intently for a long moment before finally saying, “Can you promise me that?”
“Of course. I promise,” Li Xuan said, relieved. He placed a hand on Sheng Min’s back. “If I’d known my phone would get taken away today, I’d have fought the security guard at the entrance to get it back.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sheng Min retorted, smiling.
Li Xuan laughed as well, but then the boarding announcement echoed in the distance.
“I have to go,” Sheng Min said.
Li Xuan didn’t respond. Sheng Min assumed he was reluctant, and he himself felt a pang of longing. He brushed Li Xuan’s temples gently. “I’ll be back next week… I’ll call you when I land.”
“Okay.”
“When you see Qi Boyuan, help me explain, okay?” Sheng Min said softly.
“You’re about to leave, and you’re talking to me about someone else?” Li Xuan chuckled. “It’s fine. Really, it’s okay. You can contact anyone around me, as long as you want to. I have nothing to hide from you.”
“Really nothing?”
Li Xuan’s expression froze subtly. Seeing Sheng Min’s confused gaze, he quickly smiled and kissed him lightly on the eyes. “Well, actually… one thing. Don’t glare at me—I bought a ticket for the same flight as you.”
By the time they landed in that southern town, it was late at night. The small airport was sparsely populated, with only a few flights passing through each day. A janitor leaned against a wall, dozing off. It felt more like an old train station than an airport.
“This time, I really have to go.” The two-hour journey seemed to pass in an instant, and soon they faced the moment of parting.
“Let me know when you arrive at the set.”
“When I arrive, you’ll probably still be on the plane. Your flight takes off in another hour, right?” Sheng Min glanced at his watch, holding Li Xuan’s wrist. “You’re so silly.”
“Once I see you off, I’ll head inside,” Li Xuan said with a sudden smile. “How’s that silly? I think it’s worth it.”
“Silly.”
“Clearly, it’s because you didn’t refuse me very decisively,” Li Xuan said with a wider smile, sounding confident.
Sheng Min ignored him, and Li Xuan reached out, attempting to touch his face, but suddenly, a sharp horn sounded from a few hundred meters away from them.
He couldn’t help but furrow his brow. “Why does Yang Xu seem like a strict disciplinarian? Even High school students dating aren’t watched like this.”
“Seems like you have a lot of experience,” Sheng Min glanced at him meaningfully.
“What would I need that kind of experience for?” Li Xuan said seriously, “Unless you’re teaching me.”
“Fine,” Sheng Min laughed, “I’m willing to have an early romance with you.”
Li Xuan nodded in agreement, sighing, “But what do we do? You should probably go back to your dorm now.”
Under the headlights of the “disciplinarian,” which resembled a flashlight, the couple, about to part ways, bid a restrained farewell.
Li Xuan stood still, watching Sheng Min slowly walk toward the car. He couldn’t help but take out his phone and dial Sheng Min’s number.
“What is it?” Sheng Min turned around to look at him.
“Nothing, get in the car.” The voice that came from the night wind mixed with the sound from the phone was unexpectedly tender. “Let me talk to you a bit more.”
Sheng Min started walking again, with a faint smile. “Okay.”
The southern air was humid with thin mist. Sheng Min’s figure seemed wrapped in a layer of gauze. Li Xuan didn’t have anything in particular to say, but looking at his back, as if under some kind of spell, he slowly spoke: “During the day, I was in the audience, surrounded by your fans. When you came out from the entrance and walked under the ‘Pick Your Moon’ logo, I heard everyone around shouting their love for you… Sheng Min, how is it that so many people love you?”
Had they not just parted, Sheng Min would have thought these childish words were just drunken talk. He turned back, but from a distance, he couldn’t make out Li Xuan’s face. He only saw the wind blowing his coat, and it reminded him of when they first met, when he walked past him.
Back then, they were just strangers with a fleeting glance. Little did they know that a twist of fate would make their lives intertwine.
So what if they were coerced? So what if they weren’t well-regarded? He never cared. Li Xuan was the best gift fate had given him, the calamity he had been waiting for, willingly walking into the trap. Every cost was sweet to him.
“It’s not jealousy…” Sheng Min could feel his heart tremble with Li Xuan’s every breath, but everything was hidden, like waves in the deep sea. Li Xuan’s voice remained calm and gentle.
“You know what I was thinking at that moment?”
“What?”
Li Xuan chuckled softly, looking at Sheng Min from afar. A full moon was hanging behind him, and the moonlight fell on Sheng Min’s white shirt, glowing like flowing water.
“I was thinking, none of them are as good as me, out of all those people. Only I have picked the moon.”
