When Ye Yuyao stepped out, Xu Qingnan was sitting cross-legged on the swing, gazing up at the pitch-black sky. The swing rocked back and forth leisurely, making time itself feel as though it had slowed down.
“I wouldn’t have guessed,” Ye Yuyao sat down on the neighboring swing, grasping the rattan ropes with both hands and shifting his feet slightly to set the swing in motion without lifting it off the ground, “that you would enjoy swinging.”
Without even turning his head, Xu Qingnan replied casually, “I haven’t played in a long time. There aren’t many swings that can support my weight.”
Following Xu Qingnan’s line of sight, Ye Yuyao saw nothing except the pitch-black sky. “What are you looking at?”
“The stars,” perhaps a quiet night simply had a way of calming one’s mood whether it was Ye Yuyao’s imagination or not, Xu Qingnan’s voice carried a somewhat gentle undertone when it reached his ears. “Most planets nowadays are covered by shielding nets; it’s been many years since I last saw stars simulated this realistically.”
All planets possessed magnetic fields; when fluctuating, they exerted influences on neighboring planets. Furthermore, planets varied in size; if they sat too close, a massive planet would silently occupy half the sky in a dark, oppressive mass that could dent the happiness index of residents on smaller planets.
Consequently, every planet erected shielding nets to visually isolate other planets from view, with weather pre-programmed according to the four seasons. If you possessed enough political weight, you could even manage to make it snow in June.
Following the direction of Xu Qingnan’s outstretched finger, Ye Yuyao looked over. It was a barely perceptible speck of starlight, twinkling on and off, extremely difficult to spot. Yet once you noticed it, every subsequent glance cast in that direction would completely command your vision.
“I loved them when I was a child, too, so for my tenth birthday, my father bought a small barren planet as my birthday gift without any shielding nets,” Ye Yuyao adjusted his glasses. “If you like it, I can give it to you.”
A planet, even a barren one started at a minimum of four million star coins.
Yet the way Ye Yuyao spoke made it sound as though it were worth a mere four star coins.
The outer edges of Xu Qingnan’s brow twitched slightly. He continued, “Back in my hometown, a star that looked this size in the sky would be the position of Fengluo Star.”
Fengluo Star was a planet situated toward the outer periphery of the central star district, hardly the wealthiest or most prosperous one.
And for the planet of Xu Qingnan’s origin to view Fengluo Star as something so minuscule proved that Xu Qingnan was indeed, just as Ye Yuyao had surmised, merely an ordinary person who had stumbled in by accident.
Xu Qingnan had always known that he and the other five individuals here belonged to entirely different worlds, nor did he harbor any ambitions of latching onto anyone to cross class divides.
Ye Yuyao’s hostility had arisen for no apparent reason, and Xu Qingnan had no intention of entangling himself in it.
Thus, he dropped a few hints regarding his ordinary origins in conversation. With Ye Yuyao’s keen perception, he would naturally deduce that, relative to himself, Xu Qingnan posed no competitive threat and required no special attention.
Yet Ye Yuyao replied with utmost gentleness, “Then looking at the stars from your home must have been just right.”
Yet Xu Qingnan showed no particular reaction. In his view, Ye Yuyao resembled an expensive, exquisite instrument capable of automatically generating the most polite and proper response tailored to whatever scenario he encountered. Perhaps some water had gotten inside him today, but he had quickly recovered his equilibrium.
For instance, he would actually apologize to him.
Therefore, he couldn’t possibly fail to understand his underlying implication.
Yet Ye Yuyao’s reply…
Xu Qingnan thought to himself that it was indeed a remarkably pleasant and polished remark, completely indistinguishable from what he had anticipated.
Meanwhile, inside Ye Yuyao’s mind, alarm bells were blaring, warning him against the words that had just slipped past his lips.
Stop there, Ye Yuyao.
Control your gaze, and stop looking at the man beside you.
“But nobody else knows anyway, it’s just the two of you, and it’s only for fifteen minutes. There might only be five minutes left now.”
Even so, no. You must remember what you want.
“But it’s only five minutes. Secretly indulging for a brief moment won’t hurt.”
Absolutely not.
“Look at it this way—don’t you also think he would make the best fashion model for you? Just observe him. A great model brings high profitability to your company.”
Ye Yuyao closed his eyes.
Then… let’s just observe for five minutes.
However, Xu Qingnan who felt he had successfully resolved the matter simultaneously planted his feet firmly on the ground, gripped the rattan ropes, stepped back, and then, launching himself off the ground and leaning backward, sent his body soaring forward into a rapid swing.
His movements were exceptionally crisp and clean, kicking up a whistling rush of wind against his clothing as he swung higher and higher, as if preparing to launch himself straight into the boundless night sky.
Ye Yuyao opened his eyes wide in a rare display of shock, hastily pulling his gaze away. Xu Qingnan’s actions induced a massive sense of vicarious immersion, as though the person swinging through the air was himself.
Xu Qingnan’s behavior delivered a tremendous visual shock to Ye Yuyao, though fear of this magnitude typically came laced with a thrill. That delicate middle ground between the two constantly provoked an urge to look just one more glance.
Ye Yuyao knew he ought to remind Xu Qingnan to practice safety. “Why are you swinging so high?”
“Never been on a swing before?” Xu Qingnan’s voice, carried along by the rushing wind, reached his ear. “Put your body’s strength into the direction of the swing’s momentum.”
Keeping his feet firmly planted on the ground, Ye Yuyao mimicked Xu Qingnan’s posture and called out, “But it’s too dangerous.”
“Hold on tight with your hands!”
Watching Xu Qingnan’s free, wind-swept silhouette, Ye Yuyao finally loosened his footing, lifting his feet off the ground. The swing drifted forward sluggishly on sheer inertia for a couple of cycles before those feet slammed right back down onto the earth in a death grip.
The sensation of having one’s feet off the ground lacked any sense of security whatsoever.
Noticing this side, Xu Qingnan slowed his pace down. “Scared?”
Ye Yuyao’s smile could charitably be called forced, though a faint glimmer danced in his eyes. “A little.”
“…” Xu Qingnan had actually wanted to say then stop swinging, but after pondering for a moment, he revived a topic that had already passed. “That planet you mentioned earlier are you really giving it to me?”
“Of course, that’s my apology gift,” Ye Yuyao nodded slightly, his mind still tethered to the swing as he attempted to lift his feet off the ground once more. “I’ll transfer the deed to you after the show ends.”
An eyebrow lifting, Xu Qingnan stepped off the swing and walked over behind Ye Yuyao. “Go ahead and swing, I’ve got your back.”
The lights from the camp were blocked out entirely by Xu Qingnan, whose tall, imposing frame completely eclipsed Ye Yuyao’s shadow. Plunged into total darkness before him, Ye Yuyao hesitated, paralyzed with doubt. “With you behind me, I feel even m—”
Xu Qingnan didn’t hesitate, delivering a firm shove forward.
“Ah—!” Ye Yuyao let out a startled shriek of shock. Realizing how unseemly it sounded, he tried to reach up and cover his mouth, but lacked the courage to let go of the rattan ropes, ultimately clamping his lips shut as tightly as possible to suppress any further cries.
The duration was extremely brief; the height Ye Yuyao reached wasn’t high at all, and his feet quickly touched down again. The moment he landed, he spun around intending to glare in fury, only to receive another shove against his back. “Clearly you love it, why pretend otherwise?”
“I didn’t—”
Xu Qingnan cut him off with flat indifference, ruthlessly unmasking the subtle impulse Ye Yuyao hadn’t even realized he possessed. “Then you should have stood up immediately upon landing instead of turning around to wait for me to push you a second time.”
Ye Yuyao immediately retorted, “That’s not it!”
Without a word, Xu Qingnan folded his arms and stepped back a few paces.
Once Ye Yuyao stabilized himself, he held his breath and waited for three full seconds—zero movement.
Involuntarily, Ye Yuyao looked back over his shoulder to prompt him.
And ran straight into Xu Qingnan’s questioning gaze. “Something the matter?”
Ye Yuyao was left entirely speechless by the question.
He had been denying it just a second ago.
Before he could even get a word out, another shove landed against his back.
The swing rocked back and forth lazily on its inertia for a few turns until Ye Yuyao finally muttered in a low voice, “…Why are you helping me?”
“The apology gift is too heavy. Accompanying you to play once gives me peace of mind.”
Just as he had expected.
Ye Yuyao pressed his lips together and murmured, “Can you guarantee my safety?”
“Of course,” Xu Qingnan countered, “So, are we still pushing?”
“…” Ye Yuyao couldn’t even tell whether Xu Qingnan was genuinely clueless or playing dumb just like before, until he finally choked out a single syllable: “Push.”
Ye Yuyao’s eldest brother was plagued by chronic illness. Although possessed of a sky-high IQ that earned him the deep affection of everyone in the Ye family, his physical health could not support him through the training regimen required of an heir.
Thus, Ye Yuyao was born.
He was physically healthy; while lacking his older brother’s towering genius, he was no slouch either, and his mother was no longer capable of bearing children.
Raised from early childhood as the sole heir, every minute of his time was meticulously scheduled, to the point where even his recreational hours involved sitting in on operational meetings to verbalize his takeaways and insights.
When he was ten years old, purely because he had played hooky and was ultimately tracked down on the swings at an amusement park.
He had loved swinging fiercely as a child.
So close to the sky, so wonderfully free.
He was cast out onto a barren planet.
That barren planet didn’t even feature a proper house only a massive swing.
Lurching and swaying there in lonely isolation.
The ground was entirely carpeted with thorny briars and sharp stones, forcing Ye Yuyao to spend his nights weathering the elements right there on the swing.
He had fallen off that swing countless times.
Ever since being welcomed back into the Ye family compound, Ye Yuyao had never set foot on a swing again.
Perhaps because he was older now, clearly aware that he wouldn’t fall off a swing anymore;
Perhaps because he knew this terrain was entirely level, meaning even a fall wouldn’t land him in a thicket of thorns;
Perhaps because Xu Qingnan stood right behind him, ensuring that every single descent would be caught securely and stably.
The pushing force from behind came again and again, sending Ye Yuyao swinging higher and higher.
Closer and closer to the sky.
Just like when he was a child.
Ye Yuyao finally burst into an involuntary laugh.
He instinctively wanted to turn his head to look at Xu Qingnan.
The ground growing increasingly distant suddenly induced a wave of dizziness, leaving him just enough presence of mind to grip the rattan ropes for dear life.
Yet the vertigo rolled over him like a tidal wave, and the sheer terror caused Ye Yuyao’s arms to abruptly go numb, sapping all strength from his hands.
It’s over.
Ye Yuyao instinctively squeezed his eyes shut—
And finally plummeted into an embrace filled with the scent of cedar.