The curtains in the room were not drawn.
Shen Que’s hands gripping Si Yu’s shoulders were clearly visible to He Yun.
Si Yu’s voice, too, carried unhindered through the wide-open doorway.
“You aren’t too late; you can just catch the wedding banquet for me and He Yun tonight.”
“A wedding banquet? Heh.”
Shen Que’s unmasked sneer grated harshly on Si Yu’s nerves.
“When He Yun vanished without a word back then, do you really not mind?”
“Stray puppies get lost all the time. You just have to drag them back.”
Si Yu brushed away Shen Que’s hands and crossed his legs as he settled onto the sofa.
“Why go to such lengths for He Yun?”
Shen Que squatted down, looking up at Si Yu.
“Do you really love him that much?”
“Want to know just how much I love him?”
Si Yu lightly swung his foot, tapping the toe of his shoe against Shen Que’s black silk tie.
A muscle twitched in Shen Que’s brow. He stood up, turning his back as if to shut it all out.
“I hate you as much,” Si Yu murmured, leaning in close behind him, “as I love him.”
Shen Que closed his eyes, opened them again, and turned back to face Si Yu. “Is there anything he gives you that I couldn’t?”
After a pause of several seconds, Shen Que uttered two words: “Ten years.”
I’ve loved you for ten years.
He longed to see a flicker of distraction in Si Yu, even if it were just a momentary hesitation in those amber-flecked pupils.
A flicker of distraction, a moment of hesitation, either could rescue his self-esteem, which Si Yu had ground into the mud.
Yet—
“So what?” Si Yu laughed, retreating a step. “Just looking at you makes me sick.”
So willful, so terrible a disposition.
Before Shen Que realized what he was doing, he had pinned Si Yu against the door.
Even knowing Si Yu detested it, he did it anyway.
“He Yun doesn’t love you.”
Even knowing Si Yu refused to hear it, he spoke the words regardless.
“In the year he’s been gone, has he ever contacted you?”
“In the month you’ve spent here, has he ever brought up getting back together?”
“In the hour I’ve been here, has he ever stepped forward?”
At last, he finally caught that look of distraction and hesitation in Si Yu’s eyes, yet it was still entirely because of He Yun.
“He Yun could never not love me.”
“Fine. Then go find him right now.”
Shen Que released his grip, twisted the doorknob, and pointed toward the garden gate leading outside.
“If he dares to step forward like a man and throw a punch at my face, I’ll believe you aren’t just lying to yourself.”
Si Yu didn’t know what gave Shen Que such absolute certainty. Rubbing his aching shoulder, he walked out of the room.
His pace was swift. As he passed the flowering vines, a robin tilted its head at him, beat its wings, and flew away.
“He Yun! He Yun, open the door!”
Si Yu hammered relentlessly against the wood.
The pounding echoed loudly, startling a bright blue butterfly resting among the white wallflowers and sending it fluttering away into the air.
Clenching his fists, Si Yu shouted, “You promised! You said that when I woke up, you’d give me an answer!”
No reply came, save for the crisp click of Shen Que’s leather-soled shoes striking the stone path behind him.
“Want to go inside and look for him?” Shen Que offered. “I don’t mind helping you smash the door down.”
“Shut up.”
Si Yu stood on tiptoe to retrieve the key from the lintel, his fingers trembling uncontrollably.
Once inside, Si Yu pushed open door after door, tearing aside tablecloths, pulling back curtains, and even trying to peer behind the stacks of foreign-language books in the corner just to catch a glimpse of He Yun.
Nothing.
The kitchen counters were bone dry, devoid of a single drop of water; the unfinished raspberry panna cotta was gone, and the empty trash can sat spinning in place.
The living room sofa bore no creases; the fleece blanket used last night had vanished, and the lonely pull-string of the floor lamp was still swaying slightly.
It was all too familiar.
It was just like last year on He Yun’s birthday, when he had rushed back from out of town only to find this exact scene, pristine, bright, everything meticulously neat and tidy, yet He Yun was nowhere to be found.
Si Yu stood frozen on the floor, a bone-deep chill creeping up from the soles of his feet.
He Yun had left him once again.
“Still refusing to believe it? He Yun is gone. He doesn’t want—”
“No.”
Si Yu spun around.
“He’s just not home right now. He’ll be back.”
“You said the exact same thing last year. Did he come back?”
Looking at Shen Que, Si Yu’s gaze was unwavering.
“He’ll come back.”
Shen Que’s eyes followed Si Yu’s retreating figure all the way out the door, watching him sink onto the milky-white wooden steps.
He had grown so thin. His spine and shoulder blades stood out sharply beneath the white shirt, looking as though they might snap at any second.
His curled-up form resembled a smooth, cold white pebble. Shen Que could only stand helplessly and watch as the stray blossoms, swept by the ocean breeze, drifted past Si Yu’s hair and shoulders.
Shoving his hands deep into his suit pockets, Shen Que practically forced the words out between clenched teeth.
“The flight is at two o’clock.”
“He’ll be back any minute.”
“And if he doesn’t come back?”
“He doesn’t like you either. He won’t let you take me away.”
Si Yu repeated the mantra over and over, refusing to stop even as the pearlescent clouds of dawn dissolved into a thin mist easily pierced by the gentle May sunlight.
“He Yun isn’t going to leave.”
“He Yun just stepped out.”
“He Yun is waiting for me to wake up and find him.”
Shen Que’s legs had gone numb from standing so long, yet he dared not move.
For the moment he let his guard drop even a fraction, the figure hiding behind the tall oak tree might step out.
The tree shadows shifted slowly, holding He Yun’s feet in place while magnifying the shattered light gleaming in his eyes.
He and Shen Que never crossed glances; the only person either of them was watching was Si Yu.
Si Yu had sat there for so long that the sun had warmed his skin, yet the words he spoke still carried zero temperature.
“I’m so cold.”
Shen Que froze for three seconds under Si Yu’s hollow gaze. Realizing the look was meant for him, he hurried over and knelt on one knee.
“You’re not cold. You won’t be cold.”
Stripping off his jacket, Shen Que wrapped it tightly around Si Yu.
Si Yu asked in a hoarse whisper, “Are we going back to Jiangcheng?”
Shen Que couldn’t answer immediately. He reached out with a trembling hand to stroke Si Yu’s hair, steadying his shuddering shoulders.
“Will He Yun be waiting for me at home?”
A single sentence shattered all of Shen Que’s hopes.
“Mr. Shen, Teacher Si, your flight to Mincheng is ready for boarding. Please follow me.”
With a wave of his hand, Shen Que declined the airline attendant’s assistance, pushed open the heavy VIP lounge door himself, and turned back to look at the person he had invited.
Si Yu slowly raised his head and asked quietly, “Is He Yun really waiting for me in Mincheng?”
Shen Que had no idea how he managed to nod. All he knew was that Si Yu finally smiled.
Catching the look, the ground crew member promptly reached out to take the door handle.
Wasting no time, Shen Que adjusted Si Yu’s hat and mask, lowering his voice to a pitch meant to avoid waking someone from a deep sleep. “Let’s get on the plane first, okay?”
Seeing Si Yu blink, Shen Que gently supported his shoulder and guided him outward.
The boarding gate drew closer, and Shen Que quickened his pace.
Take him away so he never returns; keep watch over him so he never leaves again.
Perhaps the carpet beneath their feet was simply too thick, but Si Yu’s dragging steps weighed him down more and more with every meter.
“What is it?”
Shen Que turned to look at Si Yu, who had come to a dead stop.
The bright eyes visible above Si Yu’s white mask were lit with a sudden radiance. “He Yun is here.”
Shen Que closed his eyes, let out a short, sharp breath, and lowered his gaze slightly. “Remember? He Yun isn’t at home. He’s waiting for you in Min—”
“He Yun!”
Shen Que’s hand slipped from Si Yu’s shoulder, dropping heavily to his side.
He watched Si Yu fling himself into an outstretched embrace in the distance.
So Si Yu could move fast after all; he could even run, as long as the person standing at the finish line was He Yun.
“I knew it. I knew you wouldn’t leave me.”
Si Yu threw his arms tightly around He Yun, completely ignoring how his mask was soaked through with tears, choking off his every breath.
“How could I leave? I’ll be right here waiting for you to come back.”
He Yun cupped Si Yu’s face, gently wiping away the tearstains at the corners of his eyes.
Si Yu shook his head, sobbing softly, “No. I don’t want you waiting for me here. I want you by my side, staying with me always.”
“Baby,” He Yun pulled down his mask and stroked his damp face, “you’re just going to work. I’ll be right here at home waiting for you to come back, just like before.”
“Just like before?”
“Mhm. Waiting for you to come home.”
Seeing the daze in Si Yu’s eyes, He Yun offered a kiss to seal his promise once more.
“I’ll wait for you.”
The salty dampness of the tears on his lips slipped past the tip of He Yun’s tongue, sinking straight into his bones and making it nearly impossible for him to keep a steady hold on Si Yu’s face.
“I’ll wait for you forever.”
Deceptive oaths would lose their power before midnight, but at the very least, this moment allowed Si Yu to willingly part ways with him.
Standing behind a decorative screen, He Yun waved with a smile until Si Yu turned and disappeared into the cabin.
“I brought him all the way to the airport. Why did you still have to show your face?”
Seething with rage, Shen Que shoved He Yun hard against the wall.
The next second, He Yun retaliated, seizing Shen Que by the collar.
“Did you ever stop to think what would happen to him if he got off that plane and couldn’t find me?”
He Yun tightened his grip.
“You should have told him I just stepped out, not that I left! Not that I didn’t want him anymore!”
“Wasn’t that the truth?”
Refusing to back down, Shen Que grabbed He Yun’s collar in return, shouting to cut him off.
“Shen Que, you know better than anyone why I had to leave Si Yu in the first place. But—”
He Yun slammed Shen Que back into the corner, barring his way with a forearm braced squarely against his shoulder.
“The next time I catch you laying a hand on him, do you really think your face can take another round of my punches?”
The bruising on the corner of Shen Que’s jaw had long since faded, but the crushing force of He Yun’s punch that night, and the bitter humiliation of seeing He Yun step up to brazenly claim Si Yu’s contact info right in front of him for the very first time, had never gone away.
He was capable of throwing punches too, yet he knew full well that brute force and sheer authority alone could never shake He Yun’s position.
That was why he had devised a far better method.
“He always says that whenever he gets drunk, he can see you.”
Just as he anticipated, the pressure bearing down on his shoulder began to ease.
“Do you have any idea how many people tried to change their names to He Yun over the past year?”
He was thoroughly satisfied with He Yun’s retreating reaction, taking a moment to steady his breathing and straighten his ruffled tie.
“Without me, Si Yu wouldn’t even have bones left. What right do you have to—”
Shen Que’s words cut off mid-sentence because as he looked up, he caught sight of the white boarding pass clutched between He Yun’s fingers.
Si Yu was jolted awake by the movement of someone seating himself in the adjacent spot.
“He Yun?”
“It’s me.”
Si Yu’s eyelids drifted lazily shut once again.
Quietly sighing to himself, Shen Que reached over to pull the seatbelt across Si Yu’s waist, click!
Si Yu snapped his eyes open, immediately propping himself up to look around from side to side.
“What is it?”
Shen Que shifted his body to block his view toward the back.
“He Yun’s backpack zipper…” Si Yu raised his index finger, vaguely pointing somewhere behind them. “It hit the back of the chair.”
“You heard wrong. That was just the seatbelt buckle.”
“Really?”
“Mhm. Go to sleep.”
A mere few steps away, their conversation slipped past the half-drawn curtain of the first-class cabin and reached the ears of the black-clad man holding his breath outside.
He Yun’s fingers gripped the zipper of his backpack tightly, the silver zipper that had just rattled against the seat.
It seemed it had always been like this. Whether parting ways or reuniting at airports, docks, or train stations, the zipper of his backpack always emitted that faint clinking sound.
It was the exact sound that rang out whenever Si Yu hurled himself into his arms.
Si Yu remembered it, and so did he.
He Yun still vividly recalled the night of their reunion, months after they had parted ways shortly following their confession.
Five years ago, in London.
“Baby!”
He Yun moved both hands at once, using one to catch the luggage cart rolling toward him and the other to steady the person flinging himself onto his body.
“Did you wait long? Did you miss me?”
“No. Yes.”
Si Yu was already past caring what He Yun was saying. With his legs wrapped around He Yun’s waist, he cupped his face and peppered him with kisses like a woodpecker.
After a long string of kisses, Si Yu finally snapped back to reality and whined, “Why aren’t you kissing me back?”
“Your mask.”
“Hm?”
It wasn’t until they stepped inside the apartment that He Yun finally peeled the mask off Si Yu’s face.
But it wasn’t just the mask.
His jacket, scarf, shirt, everything that pressed against Si Yu’s skin was stripped away and tossed onto the floor by He Yun.
None of those things had any right to linger on Si Yu. Only his own hands, palms, fingertips, cheeks, and lips possessed that qualification.
“Are you nervous?”
“No.”
He Yun’s reply came without a single second of hesitation, matching the strength of the arms he wrapped around the back of Si Yu’s neck, locking him securely against him.
“Why?”
“I’ve thought about it too many times.”
He Yun buried his face in Si Yu’s neck, breathing in the rose fragrance of his hair, using his lips to kiss away the lingering moisture on his delicate throat.
“I’ve thought about it too many times.”
Every second of every day, he wanted to possess him, to make him the ultimate culprit who killed off love itself.
Love was never about possession, but sex was, and the culprit who executed love was sex as well.
“Want it?”
He Yun nodded.
“Say it out loud.”
He Yun said he wanted it.
Si Yu smiled faintly, his porcelain-white toes sliding up over He Yun’s instep, brushing past his rounded knee and firm thigh, before coming to a rest right at his hip bone, pressing down at an angle.
“Still not enough.”