He Siheng immediately went on alert: “What?”
Tan Wan grinned mischievously: “Dating.”
She had heard from their parents the moment she got home about Tan Jing’s long-distance pursuit of love, and now she generously shared the intel with He Siheng. “You know he went all the way to chase…”
“He Siheng.”
The unfinished words were interrupted by a sudden voice.
Tan Jing’s familiar face suddenly appeared in He Siheng’s phone camera.
Tan Wan widened her eyes: “A-A Jing? Why are you at Little Heng’s house?!”
Tan Jing glanced at He Siheng’s phone and greeted her nonchalantly: “Didn’t Dad tell you I ran away from home?”
Tan Wan was full of question marks. Ran away from home? Dad said you went all the way to the person you like for New Year—how did it turn into running away in your version?
Wait, the biggest issue was—why was Tan Jing spending New Year at He Siheng’s house?
Tan Wan’s brain CPU felt like it was about to overload.
On the other end, He Siheng looked at Tan Jing who had suddenly come over to interrupt their chat, smugly lifting his chin: “What do you want?”
Tan Jing’s expression was indifferent: “I’m making hand-ground coffee. You didn’t sleep last night—want a cup to perk up?”
He Siheng frowned, puzzled. He never liked coffee—shouldn’t Tan Jing know that?
“No thanks, just make yours.”
Tan Jing said “oh” and looked at the frozen Tan Wan, curving his lips at her: “Sis, you two keep chatting.”
The now-enlightened Tan Wan: “…”
Chat my foot. Tan Jing only called her “Sis” when he was screwing her over. That “Sis” meant trouble.
So the long-distance love chase was for the He Family kid across from him? This guy really wasn’t afraid of giving Tan Cong high blood pressure.
He Siheng didn’t know the implication of that “Sis” and only noted Tan Jing’s last words, letting him and Tan Wan continue chatting.
His smugness instantly turned to annoyance.
Tan Jing knew he used to like Tan Wan. Logically, seeing him chat happily with her, shouldn’t Tan Jing be jealous? How could he be so calm?
He Siheng glared at the guy casually heading to the water bar, clicking his tongue loudly.
Annoying.
Coconut City strictly controlled fireworks, allowing them only on New Year’s Eve and Lantern Festival. After dinner that evening, Shu Qiu eagerly called the family to the beach to watch.
He Siheng had no mood for sea breeze and slumped on the sofa, refusing to move. “We can watch from home. Why go to the beach?”
Shu Qiu loved rituals and insisted fireworks looked flat from home—only under them were they beautiful.
He Siheng was already sleep-deprived and listless, wanting to lie on the sofa forever. But he saw Tan Jing coming downstairs in thicker clothes, looking ready to go out.
His first reaction was that Tan Jing was leaving. He sat up immediately: “You’re leaving already? Didn’t you say tomorrow?”
Shu Qiu looked puzzled: “Tomorrow go where?”
Tan Jing seemed equally baffled by He Siheng’s question, his face showing confusion: “Aren’t we going to the beach for fireworks?”
Only then did He Siheng realize Tan Jing hadn’t brought luggage. His face heated up as he mentally cursed himself an idiot.
He coughed awkwardly, got up from the sofa without looking back, and tossed out: “Wait five minutes for me. I’ll change.”
Watching him head upstairs, Tan Jing’s lips curved imperceptibly.
Fireworks were rare once a year, and plenty of people crowded the beach at this hour waiting. Night fully blanketed the sky, yet the beach buzzed with heads and voices mixing with waves in the sea wind.
He Siheng didn’t want to be the third wheel for He Yunlang and Shu Qiu, so he consciously stayed farther back, slowing until they blended into the crowd. Only then did he realize this left him alone with Tan Jing again.
It wasn’t his slow reflexes—Tan Jing had been too quiet today. From leaving the house, he hadn’t spoken much or initiated any talk.
Had he really given up…*
He Siheng pursed his lips and finally started the conversation: “Have you… packed your luggage?”
He immediately regretted it—it sounded like urging him to leave.
“Not yet.” Tan Jing replied briefly.
He Siheng said “oh” and thought, then patched it: “If your dad is still pushing the blind dates, you can stay a few more days.”
But Tan Jing countered: “Do you want me to stay longer?”
He Siheng choked. “I…”
Did he want Tan Jing to stay?
At first, inviting him over was to stand up for him, a heat-of-the-moment decision to have him spend New Year here.
A short week passed as if it had no real substance, until that morning when Tan Jing suddenly announced he was going back.
His early return home also meant conceding defeat, meant giving up on liking him.
He Siheng lowered his eyes, a sour emotion rampaging unchecked across his chest.
He had been on the verge of winning the bet—a once-in-a-lifetime chance to have Tan Jing as his lackey for a month right in front of him. So why… couldn’t he feel happy at all?
Little Strawberry’s words echoed inappropriately in his mind.
After Tan Jing went home, would he accept the blind date arranged by his family? Would he start dating someone else, hold hands, hug, kiss…
His throat suddenly tightened, like cotton stuffed in it, the stuffy feeling beyond measure.
“He Siheng.”
Hearing the soft call from the guy beside him, He Siheng turned his head to look at him.
But Tan Jing didn’t look at him; he just gazed at the distant horizon, leaving He Siheng with a calm and distant profile.
“Thanks for putting me up these past few days, and thanks for indulging my shameless one-sided crush and entanglement.”
He Siheng unconsciously clenched his fingers. What did that mean? Some kind of conclusive farewell speech? One-sided crush? Entanglement?
Tan Jing forced a bitter smile. “These few days living here, I think I’ve also seen your true feelings clearly.”
The fingers hanging at his side curled tighter and tighter. He Siheng gritted his back teeth.
He was the one who’d provoked first, the one who’d sworn up and down that he liked him. So why give up so quickly? He’d never said he didn’t like him—why assume his feelings on his own?
His chest heaved as He Siheng suppressed the anger surging in his chest, but the more he suppressed it, the heavier it felt.
In the end, that anger turned into an irrepressible grievance, spreading from his chest to his throat.
Tan Jing let out a light sigh. “I guess I should have some self-awareness too. You really…”
The second half of the sentence dissolved into a sigh, its meaning already self-evident.
Tan Jing turned to leave, but his arm was suddenly grabbed.
He looked back. The guy in the milky-white hoodie was hanging his head, chestnut messy bangs falling over his forehead to hide his brow and eyes’ emotions. All he could see were the knuckles of the fingers gripping his sleeve, white from the force.
“Don’t go back…”
Fireworks suddenly burst into the sky in the distance. The crowd stirred, laughter and screams blending into one, drowning out his barely audible voice.
Tan Jing didn’t hear his plea for him to stay. He tried to loosen the too-tight grip on his hand, but the moment he touched those fingers, He Siheng suddenly looked up.
Under the chestnut strands tousled by the sea breeze, those amber eyes brimmed with stubbornness, yet they were misted over with a layer of water that didn’t match it at all.
“What self-awareness? What seeing my feelings clearly? Do you even have eyes?!”
“I clearly… I clearly…”
The tears welled up and spilled from his reddened eyes, falling like beads off a broken string. That negligible stubbornness shattered like a soap bubble.
He Siheng’s voice choked unnaturally. “I clearly… like you too…”
Fireworks launched one after another into the night sky, blooming brilliantly against the darkness, bright as day. The shimmering lights fell on the young man’s face, his teardrops glistening.
The people who’d waited a year all craned their necks to watch the fireworks. Only they looked at each other.
Just like that New Year’s Eve night.
“He Siheng.”
Tan Jing called his name softly.
He Siheng’s teary eyelashes trembled slightly, his fingers gripping Tan Jing’s sleeve tightening anxiously.
This time, he was looking at him.
In those pitch-black eyes like deep abysses, the bright fireworks sparkled, some emotion flowing gently.
The crowd bustled noisily, but the heartbeat in his chest pounded loudly.
Tan Jing slowly lowered his head, stopping at the final distance, and asked warmly, “This time, can I kiss you?”
He Siheng’s eyes widened slightly. Before he could respond, the other guy’s fingers brushed his cheek.
Tan Jing curved his lips in a smile. “You’re still breathing—that means yes.”
