There are actually many ways to deal with the problem of being caught in the rain without an umbrella.
Xie Ge could have waited at the dessert shop until the rain stopped, called his family driver to pick him up, booked a taxi on his phone, or even ordered an umbrella delivery through Shansong.
He did none of those. Instead, he accidentally sent a few photos to Xu Miao—and then forgot to recall them.
The two of them quietly finished a whole waffle with just one set of cutlery. Xu Miao asked the waiter to pack up the untouched pudding tart. When Xie Ge said he couldn’t eat anymore, Xu Miao replied that he was taking it home for himself.
It took Xie Ge a while to come back to his senses. Unable to put his feelings into words, he settled for giving Xu Miao’s back a subtle glare.
Outside, the rain still poured—and Xu Miao only had one umbrella.
Sharing a regular-sized umbrella was always awkward for two grown men. Thinking quickly, Xie Ge called out,
“Is the car parked far? If not, you should use the umbrella yourself. I’ll just head home and shower later.”
The shop’s awning was narrow, more decorative than useful. A light breeze was enough to drive the rain straight into their faces.
Xu Miao opened the umbrella, pulled Xie Ge closer, and instructed,
“Put your hand on my shoulder, hold onto me. If we stay close, we can both fit.”
After Xie Ge did as told, he suddenly thought to ask,
“Why didn’t you bring another umbrella?”
Good question.
Raindrops pattered against the ground, mingling with Xu Miao’s voice:
“Why do there have to be so many reasons? Do you want me to say I forgot, or that I only found one at home?”
“Would you even believe that? Or would you believe the truth—that I didn’t need an excuse. I only brought one umbrella so I’d have a reason to be close to you. That’s all.”
Xie Ge lowered his head, staring at the shallow puddles on the ground.
He looked as though he couldn’t quite accept Xu Miao’s bluntness. Still, he took the umbrella handle from Xu Miao and didn’t move the arm he had around Xu Miao’s shoulder.
“Of course, you can refuse me,” Xu Miao added softly, pretending to be pitiful. “But I’d be heartbroken. Really, really heartbroken.”
Xie Ge suddenly forgot how to comfort people, replying stiffly,
“Don’t be sad.”
The walk to the parking lot was short, just across a crosswalk. They caught a green light and made it quickly, barely bothered by wind or rain before getting into the car.
The dark wet patches on Xu Miao’s light-colored coat hadn’t returned. He started the car, switched on the heater, and leaned in deliberately to fasten Xie Ge’s seatbelt.
When his hand brushed against Xie Ge’s shoulder, he noticed something unusual and—on his own initiative—let his hand wander farther.
Xie Ge flinched uncomfortably, but Xu Miao caught him back.
The dark fabric hid it, but by touch Xu Miao realized—Xie Ge’s right shoulder was almost completely soaked.
Xu Miao, who had angled the umbrella just to prolong their closeness, finally discovered the result of his trick.
Xie Ge opened his mouth to say something, but Xu Miao didn’t ask. He simply fastened the seatbelt with gentlemanly composure and drove off as if nothing had happened.
The car warmed quickly, yet the air between them grew colder. Uneasy, Xie Ge glanced at Xu Miao and tried to cover it up:
“It was the wind! It blew from my right and carried the rain with it. That’s why my clothes got so wet. I’m not even cold.”
Xu Miao said nothing.
Xie Ge waited a few seconds. Still nothing. He turned off the music, faced him, and asked,
“Did you hear me?”
Xu Miao still didn’t answer, only kept driving—fast.
They barely hit any red lights. Almost home, Xie Ge finally lost patience and complained,
“You’re spying on me, and now you’re giving me the cold shoulder.”
Xu Miao parked the car and, for the first time since they got in, spoke:
“Who’s spying on you?”
Xie Ge shot back immediately,
“Then what about the location-tracking app on your phone?”
“You installed it yourself,” Xu Miao said calmly, adding details to prove his point. “I told you it wasn’t necessary. You said that meant I didn’t care about you, not even about where you went.”
Xie Ge: “…”
Xie Ge: “And you agreed?”
“What else could I do?” Xu Miao’s tone was helpless. “That was already your compromise.”
Xie Ge wanted to argue further, but Xu Miao cut him off:
“Go shower first. Change into dry clothes, then we’ll talk. Ask me whatever you want.”
At home, after showering, hair still damp, Xie Ge eagerly sat down beside Xu Miao.
He was genuinely curious about what the situation had been like before he gave in.
So he asked. And Xu Miao answered directly, just as he had promised:
“The app you originally wanted didn’t just track your location. It could show if your phone was on, how long you used it, what network you connected to, who you called, and for how long. All of it updated in real time.”
“It could even record your calls, convert them into audio files, and send them to me,” Xu Miao added after a pause. “It even had real-time screen sharing.”
Even knowing he had once wanted this, Xie Ge still couldn’t understand. He asked carefully,
“Do you think I’m a pervert?”
Nervously, he studied Xu Miao’s expression. But Xu Miao only said casually,
“At first, maybe a little. But then, no. You only did it because you like me. That’s not some unforgivable mistake.”
The massive issue in Xie Ge’s eyes was brushed aside so lightly.
So!
Why was something so extreme forgivable, yet something small—like his clothes getting wet—wasn’t? He had used the umbrella properly. If the wind blew the rain at him, what could he do?
The two fell silent for a while. Then Xie Ge muttered, sounding unhappy,
“So you’ve realized you like him more than me now, haven’t you?”
What nonsense.
Xu Miao was stunned.
“Who’s ‘him’?”
“Me. A few years from now.”
Xie Ge was completely lost in his imagination. He tried to recall, to dig up memories, but his mind was blank on those years.
Which only made him more convinced: he must have changed a lot in the years he couldn’t remember. The difference between his present self and his future self must be huge.
And the hateful thing was—Xu Miao seemed to prefer the changed version.
Naturally, Xie Ge placed himself in Xu Miao’s role, forgetting he had only just said that men couldn’t be with men. He grew angry:
“You gave me the cold shoulder in the car because you thought I made a mistake, because you realized I wasn’t as good as him, because you don’t like me as much as you like him.”
Xu Miao was baffled, but latched onto one point. Using the same wording he had earlier in the parking lot, he asked,
“When did I give you the cold shoulder?”
Xie Ge answered instantly, as though rehearsed and waiting for the moment:
“In the car. I talked to you, and you ignored me.”
Xu Miao was speechless, but still explained patiently,
“You were the one who told me not to talk to you while I was driving. To ignore you no matter what you said. You said it was unsafe.”
Hearing that only made Xie Ge angrier.
In that moment, his feelings turned suspicious. He couldn’t explain why, but he began to feel jealous—jealous of himself, years later. Jealous of the Xie Ge who had been with Xu Miao for years and married him. Jealous of the Xie Ge who was indulged without limits.
“I never said that. That wasn’t me.” His voice rose.
Xu Miao’s expression shifted, startled, his gaze turning complicated. Realizing it, Xie Ge lowered his voice again and whispered,
“I’m sorry.”
But Xu Miao didn’t say it was okay.
