Chapter 40
Song Jingmo practiced his expression in the mirror, making sure his hair looked perfect, then took a deep breath and stepped out of the bathroom.
He saw Xie Zhang standing in the living room, nervously adjusting his hair in the decorative mirror on the wall.
A smile touched his lips as he leaned against the doorframe, saying playfully: “Hey, cool guy, don’t worry, you look great.”
Xie Zhang, his tense shoulders relaxing at the sound of Song Jingmo’s voice, turned to him, a faint smile appearing on his face.
Xie Zhang was handsome even when he wasn’t smiling, and this gentle smile, like sunlight melting ice, made Song Jingmo’s heart skip a beat.
“…Mr. Song?”
Xie Zhang’s voice, slightly concerned, brought him back to reality. He blinked, looking at Xie Zhang’s worried expression.
“Are you feeling unwell?” Xie Zhang asked again.
Song Jingmo shook his head: “No, no, what were you saying?”
He’d vaguely heard something, but it hadn’t seemed related to his health.
Xie Zhang paused, then straightened his back, as if steeling himself, then asked, his voice slightly awkward but sincere: “Mr. Song, if you don’t have any other plans, would you… like to travel with me for a few days?”
“I mean, I’m alone, and I have a car… it would be more convenient… I… anyway…”
He pursed his lips, his eyes filled with a genuine, almost earnest plea.
“Mr. Song, would you?”
Song Jingmo had been trying to find an excuse to spend more time with Xie Zhang. Hearing his invitation, he readily agreed.
“That would be great!”
“Honestly, I don’t have my phone, and I don’t know my way around. It would be… helpful.”
He rubbed his temples sheepishly, then extended his hand, a bright smile on his face.
“I’ll rely on your navigation skills, Mr. Xie.”
Xie Zhang took his hand, his fingers tightening briefly before he let go.
As Song Jingmo turned to pour them some water, Xie Zhang finally exhaled, the tension leaving his shoulders.
…
The old town, once a quiet residential area, had become a bustling tourist destination, crowded during the day, its streets illuminated at night.
Initially, Song Jingmo had maintained a certain distance, always presenting his best side, his left profile, the one with the dimple, to Xie Zhang.
But half an hour later, encountering a group of children playing hopscotch, he’d been captivated, unable to tear himself away.
Children, especially in tourist areas, were often social butterflies.
Seeing the handsome young man watching them with such interest, they immediately invited him to join them.
Flanked by a little girl and a little boy, surrounded by a gaggle of children, Song Jingmo, after a brief hesitation, joined the game.
Xie Zhang, initially surprised, watched with amusement as Song Jingmo blended seamlessly with the children.
He became the observer.
Sunlight streamed down onto the uneven cobblestones, Song Jingmo’s sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
Amidst the children’s laughter and cheers, he stood proudly, one hand on his hip, the other wiping the sweat from his brow.
Bathed in sunlight, the fine hairs on his face illuminated by the gentle breeze, his eyes crinkling with laughter.
Having had his fun, remembering his initial purpose, he waved goodbye to his new friends, then bent down, listening attentively as the children, barely reaching his knees, enthusiastically recommended various places to visit.
He rolled down his sleeves and walked back towards where he’d left Xie Zhang.
But Xie Zhang wasn’t there. He paused, his lips tightening slightly.
Just as he was about to frown, he felt a tap on his shoulder.
A sweet scent filled the air.
He turned, and before he could see Xie Zhang, he saw a candied hawthorn stick, its berries plump and glistening with syrup.
His eyes widened.
Xie Zhang, holding two sticks, offered him one, explaining: “I asked someone; they said it’s delicious, so I bought two.”
A small shop selling candied hawthorns was just down the street from the guesthouse.
Despite its small size and unassuming appearance, there was a long line outside, suggesting it was either a popular spot or a well-established local favorite.
Song Jingmo had glanced at it earlier, but the long line and the lack of mobile payment options had deterred him.
But he’d kept looking back, his gaze following anyone carrying the sweet treat.
He hadn’t realized Xie Zhang had noticed, and had even waited in line to buy them.
But he wasn’t embarrassed or apologetic. He simply took the offered stick, smiling as he bit into a berry, the sweet syrup bursting in his mouth.
“Thank you! I really wanted to try it, but the line was long, and I used all my cash on the taxi…”
He didn’t hide his predicament, recounting his impulsive decision to leave home without his phone.
He still couldn’t believe he’d done something so stupid. He could have just turned on airplane mode! Or bought a new SIM card!
He’d been reading too many dramatic romance novels, clearly.
Xie Zhang had been nervous offering the candied hawthorn.
They were barely acquaintances; buying him a treat felt… presumptuous.
But he’d wanted to see his reaction.
Would he be surprised? Or pleased?
Would he politely accept, or politely decline?
Xie Zhang wasn’t usually impulsive.
But he’d acted on a whim, and by the time he’d realized what he was doing, he was already in line.
And now…
He watched as Song Jingmo ate the candied hawthorn, his soft hair falling across his face, his cheek dimpling as he chewed.
A sense of warmth and satisfaction filled him.
The exhaustion and emptiness of the past few days were replaced by a sweet, almost giddy anticipation.
The sky above the old town was a brilliant blue, the clouds low and fluffy.
They walked along the street, browsing the shops, reaching the end of the road.
…
They spent two weeks in the old town, exploring every nook and cranny.
Song Jingmo stayed in the ocean view suite, while Xie Zhang occasionally visited for a shower, always bringing him a unique breakfast.
The second bedroom remained empty; Song Jingmo never invited Xie Zhang to stay.
And Xie Zhang never asked, only leaving traces of his presence in the suite’s second bathroom.
They maintained a comfortable distance, not questioning each other’s past, yet their bond deepening with each passing day.
One morning, when Xie Zhang arrived, he found Song Jingmo, who had been struggling with jet lag, already awake and dressed, sitting in the guesthouse’s reading area.
Song Jingmo looked up from his laptop, a smile appearing on his face: “Good morning.”
“Good morning.” Xie Zhang handed him breakfast. “What’s wrong?”
Song Jingmo took the breakfast, taking a sip of the warm soy milk before replying sullenly: “I checked my email. My brother is furious. He’s sent dozens of messages asking where I am.”
Fortunately, it seemed his parents were still unaware of his… departure; his brother had probably intercepted the news.
Xie Zhang’s voice was calm: “Are you going back?”
Song Jingmo looked at him, then asked: “What about you?”
“When are you going back to work?”
Xie Zhang had mentioned that, although he was traveling, his boss expected him back eventually.
He looked at Song Jingmo.
Their gazes met.
Song Jingmo, his head lowered, quietly ate his breakfast, his demeanor calm and composed.
He seemed nothing like the impulsive young master who had run away from home.
He finished his breakfast before Xie Zhang finally answered.
“Tomorrow.”
Song Jingmo looked up sharply: “You’ve already booked your flight?”
Xie Zhang pulled out his phone, checked something, then murmured: “Yes.”
Song Jingmo: “…”
He crumpled the empty breakfast bag, frustrated, wanting to punch the handsome, stoic man before him.
Aaaaaah, so annoying!
But he should probably go home too.
His brother would track him down eventually.
And if his brother and Xie Zhang met… eww!
He didn’t know how to explain their… undefined… relationship.
“Today…”
“Today…”
They spoke simultaneously.
Song Jingmo huffed, declaring: “I’ll choose our destination today!”
Then, glancing at Xie Zhang, he added with a cough: “Someone mentioned an interesting café; I want to check it out. Maybe I can buy some beans for my brother, as a peace offering.”
…
They’d explored almost every corner of the old town during their two-week stay.
But the café Song Jingmo had heard about was tucked away in a remote location, requiring a twenty-minute hike uphill. They’d never come across it before.
Song Jingmo wasn’t exactly athletic. He disliked sweating and preferred a more… sedentary… lifestyle.
If he’d had his phone, the steps he’d taken in the past two weeks would have surpassed his total for the past few months.
The café was quiet and elegant, the soft strains of piano music and the aroma of coffee wafting out.
A small wooden box sat by the entrance, filled with slips of paper, along with a stack of notepads and pens.
Song Jingmo, catching his breath, stared at the café’s sign.
Then he said: “Want to play a game?”
Xie Zhang looked at him.
Song Jingmo knew about the café’s online fame and its special activity.
They collected wishes from their customers, and each week, they chose five to fulfill—realistic wishes, of course, nothing too outrageous.
He briefly explained the activity, then said softly: “I saw a movie once, where they said if you’re unsure about your connection with someone, let fate decide.”
“Let’s write down our contact information and put it in the box.”
“If the owner contacts us, we’ll consider…”
Xie Zhang interrupted him for the first time: “Being together.”
Song Jingmo was surprised.
He’d been about to suggest… getting to know each other properly… but Xie Zhang’s three words had thrown him off.
Xie Zhang hadn’t seemed so forward before.
His gaze locked on Song Jingmo’s face, his voice firm and sincere, his eyes filled with a warmth Song Jingmo hadn’t seen before: “If it’s meant to be, I hope you’ll consider being with me.”
“Okay.”
Song Jingmo’s eyes crinkled with a smile.
“If it’s meant to be, let’s be together.”
