The elderly woman downstairs was conserving electricity, leaving only a small light on as she tidied up the stained stovetop in the dim kitchen. Li Xuan, still somewhat lost in thought, handed over the bowls. The old woman thanked him twice before he finally registered the words.
“It’s nothing, you’re welcome,” Li Xuan replied with a shake of his head. Stepping out of the shop into the unfamiliar alley, he stood still for a moment, dazed. He pulled out a lighter, sat down on the stone steps, and lit a cigarette.
It wasn’t even ten o’clock—just the start of nightlife in the city—but the town was already quiet. Only the faint sound of mahjong tiles clacking drifted from some unknown house. Stars twinkled in the distance, hinting at fair weather the next day. By the time he finished his cigarette, dew had dampened the hem of his shirt. Not wanting Sheng Min to catch the smell of smoke, he lingered a bit longer before heading back.
Sheng Min had already fallen asleep. Li Xuan leaned against the doorway, listening to his soft, barely audible breathing. After a while, he grabbed his clothes and headed for the bathroom.
The water heater refused to ignite for some reason, so he settled for a quick rinse with cold water. As he dried his damp hair, he noticed Sheng Min’s jacket slipping off the back of a chair. He bent to pick it up, and a boarding ticket fell out.
The date was for today, departing from a coastal city famous for its pearls. Li Xuan glanced at it briefly before tucking it back into the jacket.
…..
Carefully pushing open the bedroom door, he found Sheng Min still asleep, curled into a small ball despite his tall frame. But as Li Xuan crouched by the bed to look at his face, Sheng Min stirred, blinking drowsily at him. “Come sleep,” he murmured, his voice husky as he instinctively shifted inward to make room. “Don’t sleep on the floor—it’s cold.”
Li Xuan wanted to explain that he hadn’t been planning to sleep on the floor, that he just wanted to get a closer look. But in the end, he said nothing and climbed into bed, sharing the blanket Sheng Min offered him. Turning onto his side, he pulled Sheng Min into his arms, letting him rest in the crook of his elbow.
The position wasn’t the most comfortable, but being close made it warm. Sheng Min stayed obediently nestled there the whole time. Li Xuan leaned down to kiss his neck, eliciting only a quiet complaint about it tickling, but Sheng Min didn’t move away.
“Get some sleep,” Li Xuan whispered, patting his back.
Sheng Min didn’t reply for a while, then suddenly mumbled, “Did you take the bowls back down?”
“Yeah, I did.”
“I wanted to wait for you, but I fell asleep…”
“It’s fine. It’s no big deal.”
Sheng Min hummed softly, half-asleep, his voice low and unguarded as he nestled against Li Xuan’s shoulder. “Their water heater seems broken… Can you fix it?”
Li Xuan wasn’t sure if Sheng Min was awake or dreaming. He’d never fixed a water heater before, but he said, “I’ll try.”
“Fix it for them,” Sheng Min murmured, his voice fading.
“Alright,” Li Xuan replied gently. “And if I can’t, I’ll buy them a new one, okay?”
But Sheng Min didn’t answer, his breathing evening out again. Li Xuan held him close, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Sleep finally claimed him as well.
…..
He wasn’t picky about where he slept, but with his mind weighed down, he’d woken several times during the night, unsure if it was real or just dreams. Waking fully was a struggle.
When he finally opened his eyes, he thought it was morning. But after a closer look, he realized it was just moonlight. The bed beside him was empty, still warm on one side. His chest sank as he immediately sat up. “Sheng Min!”
There was no response. He hurried out of bed, banging his foot on the bedframe, but didn’t feel the pain. Throwing open the bedroom door, he finally spotted Sheng Min’s slender figure perched by the windowsill. His heart settled heavily back in place.
“What are you doing?” He walked over, sitting by the window to shield Sheng Min from the breeze, and draped a coat over his shoulders.
Sheng Min slowly turned his head, his expression unfocused. After studying Li Xuan for a moment, he reached out to touch his face. “It’s still early. Why are you awake?”
Li Xuan smiled, tilting his head to kiss Sheng Min’s palm. “I was looking for you.”
“Why didn’t you call me? …Wait, did you call me?” Sheng Min’s expression turned apologetic. “I didn’t hear it.”
“It’s okay.”
Sheng Min seemed slower and dreamlike at night, as if still caught in a haze of sleepwalking. Li Xuan hummed softly in response, his sharp eyes catching sight of a small white bottle on the windowsill. Reaching for it, Sheng Min belatedly tried to snatch it back, but Li Xuan was faster. There was no label on the bottle. Holding Sheng Min’s wrist in one hand, he twisted it open with the other. Inside were capsules. He recognized them immediately, having seen all of Sheng Min’s medications before. “Tandospirone?”
Sheng Min looked as though he had been caught doing something wrong. His gaze flickered briefly before dropping. “I only took two pills, not an overdose.”
Li Xuan felt a pang in his chest, followed by a choking sensation. Out of Sheng Min’s sight, he dug his nails hard into the palm of his hand, but on the surface, he smiled gently. “Mm, I know. Are you feeling better now? Is it bitter? Do you want some sugar?”
He recalled seeing a jar of sugar cubes on the counter downstairs. In a soft voice, he suggested, “How about I mix some sugar water for you?”
Sheng Min stayed silent, so Li Xuan took it as agreement. He carefully adjusted Sheng Min’s collar and was about to head downstairs when something suddenly weighed down on his back—Sheng Min had thrown himself onto him and was hugging him tightly.
“What’s wrong?” Li Xuan was taken aback and patted the back of Sheng Min’s hand. “Do you want me to carry you?”
“I don’t want sugar,” Sheng Min said, burying his face against Li Xuan’s back. His voice was muffled.
“Then we won’t have sugar… I just thought the medicine might upset your stomach.”
“It doesn’t,” Sheng Min replied.
“Alright.” Li Xuan, bent slightly under the weight, placed his hands under Sheng Min’s legs and lifted him. He carried him back to the windowsill and gently set him down. Seeing Sheng Min’s bright eyes fixed on him, Li Xuan leaned in and kissed the corner of his lips.
“Does it taste like medicine?” Sheng Min asked.
“Sweet,” Li Xuan replied, his palm brushing against the cool surface of Sheng Min’s foot. In the moonlight, it appeared as pale as jade. “Are you cold? Your feet are freezing. Let’s go back to bed.”
Sheng Min leaned against the window frame. Being close to the mountains, the cold air was heavier at night than during the day. A breeze ruffled his soft bangs. “But I want to look at the moon.”
“You can see it from the bed too.”
“I want to look from here.” Sheng Min thought for a moment, then shook his head decisively.
His tone was slow and drowsy, utterly different from during the day. Part of it was due to the medication, part to his fatigue. Li Xuan couldn’t tell which state softened his heart more, but either way, he couldn’t refuse him. “Alright,” he relented. He quickly went back to the bedroom, fetched a thin blanket, and wrapped Sheng Min securely in it like a little bundle. He then held him tightly and, unable to help himself, brushed his cheek against Sheng Min’s face.
Neither of them spoke for a long while. The sound of dew dripping off leaves and the occasional chirp of insects filled the silence. It wasn’t an ideal spot for moon-viewing—a cluster of vines hanging from the eaves obscured part of the moonlight. Whether they were cypress vines or jasmine, their flowers had long since withered, leaving behind a faint, lingering fragrance of leaves.
After a while, Li Xuan thought Sheng Min had fallen asleep again. He turned his head slightly to check on him, but unexpectedly, Sheng Min suddenly spoke. “Is this a waxing moon or a waning moon? Why is it so bright?”
His voice was light, like the night breeze, and Li Xuan had to strain to catch his words. “A waxing moon, I think. It’s probably not past the fifteenth… The air here is clearer, so the moon looks brighter.”
“Really?” Sheng Min tilted his head and rested it on Li Xuan’s shoulder, absentmindedly playing with his fingers. His tone was dreamy, like narrating a half-remembered dream. “They said the night I was found, the moon was also this bright.”
