Shu Ci blocked his way, glaring at him—flustered and embarrassed.
Knowing he wasn’t good with words, he didn’t scold. Instead, he kept a sullen face and held out his pale palm toward him.
But Lu Xianyan’s gaze locked onto his fingers, brows slightly furrowed, as if thinking about something else entirely.
Shu Ci’s fingers trembled unconsciously, and he pulled his hand back.
This wasn’t exactly something honorable to begin with. His voice was small, almost pitiful, the corners of his eyes tinged red as if he’d been wronged.
“Give it back…”
Lu Xianyan was shameless. “Can you give it to me instead? I really need it.”
“I’ll buy you new ones.”
Shu Ci flushed with anger. “No!”
Lu Xianyan looked disappointed. “Alright.”
With his long, defined fingers, the man reluctantly pulled out a small piece of fabric. Shu Ci felt oddly unsettled and, suppressing his embarrassment, asked fiercely:
“What else did you take?”
Lu Xianyan visibly paused.
Shu Ci immediately understood. After snatching the item back, he still didn’t let him go, spreading his arms to block the doorway and insisting on going inside to check.
After a few seconds of silence, Lu Xianyan said quietly, “Can you not take them away? Some of them… I’ve kept since middle school.”
Shu Ci’s heart softened. He said he wouldn’t take anything—just look.
From the outside, Lu Xianyan’s room seemed simple: a bed, a desk, a wardrobe. Sparse.
But inside the drawers, Shu Ci found everything neatly arranged.
He saw it all—an old pen cap, exercise books, a faded school uniform…
Things that looked like they’d been casually discarded by someone who didn’t care.
There was even a plastic coffee cup.
Washed clean, turned upside down in the corner.
…
A kitten forgives a human easily—because the human loves it, and treasures its fallen fur, whiskers, and even the tiny claws it sheds.
Shu Ci didn’t like winter. He thought it was cold and drawn-out.
Other than the nightly walks he forced himself to take, he rarely went out, staying home to watch animated films and search for inspiration for his new comics.
Still, sometimes going out was unavoidable.
Every year near New Year’s Day, Wu University held sports competitions for student clubs. The moment Zhou Mingran signed up, he messaged Shu Ci, insisting he come.
After relentless pestering, Shu Ci agreed. And the moment he did, Lu Xianyan signed up too.
With both friends participating, Shu Ci had no excuse not to go—and was even dragged along to watch them practice.
Since graduating, Shu Ci rarely returned to campus. When he did, he only went to the Life Sciences building to find Zhou Mingran. He had never visited the institute where Lu Xianyan worked.
When they arrived, Lu Xianyan was already waiting at the entrance.
Shu Ci jogged over, exaggerating in admiration. “Your institute looks so impressive! I didn’t even know the school had such a big building!”
Zhou Mingran clicked his tongue. “It’s like three times bigger than the Life Sciences building. Aerospace majors must have money.”
Lu Xianyan rarely talked about himself. Curious, Shu Ci asked, “Is your major difficult? What do you study?”
Lu Xianyan explained that his research focused on rocket exterior coatings. The technical terms flew over Shu Ci’s head, leaving him feeling that this field was far more complicated than his own finance major.
—Still the impressive Lu Xianyan from his memories.
Under that pair of beautiful, admiring eyes, Lu Xianyan awkwardly looked away.
But within seconds, he couldn’t help leaning closer.
Near Shu Ci’s ear, he murmured, “I should be able to earn a lot of money in the future.”
His tone carried a hint of satisfaction.
“You remember so many things about me,” Shu Ci said softly at one point.
Lu Xianyan didn’t respond.
The time Shu Ci had taken his hand first—Lu Xianyan had even glanced around.
Four classmates had seen it.
If rumors spread, maybe by the next day the whole school would be saying Shu Ci was his wife.
Unfortunately, they were still innocent then. And Shu Ci had never held his hand again.
The rain gradually stopped.
Lu Xianyan snapped back to himself and was about to say, “Let’s go,” when a cool warmth slipped into his palm.
Soft.
It felt like it smoothed away the bitter bubbles rising in his chest.
He wrapped his hand completely around Shu Ci’s.
So tightly it almost hurt.
Shu Ci didn’t struggle. He bumped his shoulder lightly against him. “Lu Xianyan, I’m not running away.”
“You don’t have to hold so hard.”
Near Christmas, it snowed again.
This time, the snow lingered lightly on tree branches. Shu Ci would step out onto the balcony every day to look at it.
Just as he began to feel that life had become comfortable lately, he received a call from Chai.
Every Spring Festival, he used to go to London to celebrate. But since they didn’t celebrate the holiday abroad, Chai couldn’t take time off, and Shu Ci would end up alone in the house.
This year he had graduated, so Chai asked him to come around Christmas instead.
Shu Ci didn’t want to go.
Last time, he had sent photos from his book signing event—but received no praise from Chai.
It had hurt.
Growing up, Shu Ci rarely received affirmation. He had always thought it was because he wasn’t good enough. But now he had achieved something—so why still no approval?
Maybe it wasn’t his problem after all.
He hung up stubbornly, mood sinking.
Don’t be sad.
He told himself that—but the more he tried to regulate his emotions, the lower they sank.
Why was he always the one left behind?
Moving houses, transferring schools, going abroad—no one ever asked if he was willing, if he would be sad.
Had he ever truly been cared about?
Loneliness surged uncontrollably.
Suddenly, Shu Ci wanted a hug.
A tight one. So tight it felt suffocating. One that wouldn’t let him go.
By the time he realized it, he was already standing outside Lu Xianyan’s room.
His hand lifted hesitantly—then withdrew again.
He felt impulsive. Just as he turned to leave, the door opened from inside.
Lu Xianyan looked at him. “What’s wrong?”
Shu Ci clutched the hem of his clothes nervously. After a few seconds of blank silence, he parted his lips.
“Lu Xianyan…”
“I’m having an episode.”
They both knew the treatment process well by now.
Shu Ci was carried onto the bed. Their bodies fit closely together.
Lying made Shu Ci’s heart pound—but he realized Lu Xianyan’s was beating even harder.
Scorching warmth pressed against him.
Using the excuse of his condition, Shu Ci asked for a hug.
Lu Xianyan held him tightly.
So tightly that Shu Ci’s limbs grew warm and heavy—and the gloom in his heart slowly faded away.