Chapter 38
Seven years ago, when Song Jingmo and Xie Zhang had visited this mountain, it had been completely deserted, only a winding road stretching along the coastline.
Now, with the rise of tourism in Yunnan, young people seeking quieter destinations had discovered this hidden gem.
Standing on the summit, they could see the faint lights of guesthouses flickering below.
But neither of them suggested going down.
Song Jingmo, his mind filled with… plans, his expression hidden by his shadow form, remained silent.
As for Xie Zhang…
He glanced down at the chibi shadow nestled in his jacket pocket.
As they walked back towards the SUV, Xie Zhang had been constantly serenaded by Song Jingmo’s suggestive noises.
Ducking under a branch, he suddenly asked: “Momo, is your mother buried here, on this mountaintop?”
Song Jingmo looked up, reaching for his phone in Xie Zhang’s pocket.
Xie Zhang, for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, didn’t mention that he could hear him now.
The shadow tendril typed quickly, and the AI voice echoed through the darkness.
【You want to visit Mom’s grave?】
Xie Zhang replied: “Yes, I have some things in the car.”
【Oh, okay! Makes sense, since we’re here.】
Seeing that Song Jingmo hadn’t addressed his question, Xie Zhang hesitated, then asked: “I didn’t see…”
It was already strange that Song Jingmo’s mother was buried so far from home, in Yunnan, but even stranger was the lack of a grave marker or a tombstone.
He’d been looking, but he hadn’t seen anything resembling a burial site.
Song Jingmo was silent for a long moment.
The chibi shadow clung to the edge of Xie Zhang’s pocket, his head and hands drooping.
Then he slowly typed: 【Mom kept a lot of diaries.】
【Many, many diaries, filled with stories, about many people.】
【She said she hated being confined in a small box, with no wind, no sun, no light.】
【She didn’t want to wait in a cold, dark space, for flowers she couldn’t smell, flowers that would inevitably wither.】
He paused, his shadow tendril resting on the phone screen.
Xie Zhang, who could now see the SUV in the distance, finally heard the AI voice again.
【You’ve already met her.】
Both seven years ago, and now.
Xie Zhang looked down at Song-shadow, who had carefully plucked a leaf and was gently stroking it with his inky black hand.
He looked back towards the trees.
Was it… that tree?
He didn’t ask, simply opening the car door and getting in.
The mountain was undeveloped, the road ending halfway up. The trees were tall and dense, blocking the moonlight, casting deep shadows.
Song Jingmo felt a strange mix of awkwardness and anticipation.
Not the usual social awkwardness, but something… different.
Like that time, seven years ago, when they’d walked down the mountain together and gotten into Xie Zhang’s car.
The chibi shadow slowly emerged from Xie Zhang’s pocket, perching on the steering wheel, his back to him, seemingly examining it closely.
Xie Zhang gently tugged on his shadow tip.
Song Jingmo, his tendril tingling from Xie Zhang’s touch, swatted his hand playfully.
But despite his attempts at composure, he couldn’t help but remember the… content… he’d been reading.
Assuming Xie Zhang couldn’t hear him, he muttered to himself: “…If only the roof could open… it would be like a scene from a…”
Xie Zhang suddenly reached out, his fingers brushing against the startled shadow, and pressed a button on the steering wheel.
The roof retracted, revealing the night sky, the stars twinkling above them, their light filtering into the car.
Illuminating the intimate space.
The stars, like curious eyes, peeked through the darkness.
Song Jingmo, his mind filled with impure thoughts, suddenly exposed: “!!”
Aaaaaaah—!
He quickly hid inside Xie Zhang’s jacket.
This was mortifying! His fantasies suddenly becoming reality!
Wait.
That wasn’t right.
He peeked out from Xie Zhang’s jacket, his eyes narrowed suspiciously.
Did Xie Zhang, the stoic, reserved Xie Zhang, understand the… romantic… implications of a late-night, stargazing session in an SUV?
He’d been sharing some… educational materials… with Xie Zhang, but nothing this… explicit.
This wasn’t right.
He reached out, a shadow tendril gently turning Xie Zhang’s face towards him.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
Xie Zhang just looked at him, as if he hadn’t heard.
Song Jingmo, assuming he’d been overthinking, was about to withdraw his tendril when Xie Zhang suddenly turned his head, kissing it softly.
Song Jingmo: “!!!”
The retreating tendril froze.
The chibi shadow slumped against Xie Zhang’s leg, his cheek pressed against his belt.
Motionless.
Xie Zhang kissed him again, his eyes reflecting the starlight.
Song Jingmo, his shadow tendril curling, wanted to jump out of the car and run laps around it.
But that wasn’t possible.
He looked up at Xie Zhang.
Another kiss landed on his shadow form.
As Xie Zhang pulled away, the shadow tendril darted forward, slipping between his lips.
It brushed against his teeth, then, finding its way inside, rested on his tongue.
Xie Zhang’s eyes widened in surprise, his body freezing.
Song Jingmo, unable to control himself: “…”
Ahem… uh.
Well.
It had already happened.
He might as well…
He tentatively moved his shadow tendril.
Xie Zhang’s expression shifted, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.
Just as Song Jingmo thought he’d pull away, Xie Zhang, his eyes lowered, gently nibbled on the smooth, cool tendril.
Song Jingmo quickly retracted it, his mind exploding with fireworks, his entire shadow tingling.
Xie Zhang’s voice was soft and low: “Momo, we’re alone.”
Song Jingmo stared at him, incredulous.
His shadow tendril tentatively touched Xie Zhang’s belt buckle.
The chibi shadow reached out, scratching Xie Zhang’s palm, a silent invitation.
Xie Zhang’s fingers curled around him, gently caressing his shadow form.
“Momo, teach me.”
His ears were pink in the dim light, his expression slightly stiff, but his eyes held a warmth and tenderness Song Jingmo had never seen before.
“…Okay?”
…
Young Xie Zhang had always been a deep thinker, while young Song Jingmo, although carefree, had his moments of insecurity and confusion.
This impulsive, spontaneous adventure was a first for both of them.
And that journey had been filled with youthful passion and romance, free from the constraints of family, background, studies, or work.
And now, nearing thirty, they seemed to be rekindling that flame.
Fueled by time and experience, it burned even brighter, hotter.
Song Jingmo clung to the car window, watching Xie Zhang.
He couldn’t smell the scent of arousal in the air, couldn’t feel the heat, but he could see Xie Zhang’s deliberate movements, even the way he wiped his fingers with a soft handkerchief, leaving dark marks on the fabric.
He was just a shadow, devoid of physical desires, yet he felt a restless, almost unbearable yearning.
A shadow tendril wrapped around Xie Zhang’s wrist, tracing the veins on his hand, stopping at the base of his ring finger, forming a dark ring.
He tugged on Xie Zhang’s finger.
“I have a question for you. Answer truthfully.”
Xie Zhang, his eyes lowered, his usual aloofness replaced by a languid, almost lazy sensuality, murmured: “Hm?”
Song Jingmo, sitting up straight: “Aha! You can hear me! Since when?!”
He knew, as a man, when another man was most vulnerable and most likely to reveal his secrets.
Xie Zhang, still slightly dazed, confessed, explaining how he’d suddenly heard Song Jingmo’s voice on the mountaintop, and how he’d occasionally heard him before.
Song Jingmo thought about this.
It seemed Xie Zhang could hear him whenever he felt the warmth—wait!
He whipped his head around like a startled sunflower.
What had he just said?!
He’d heard him before?
Song-shadow instantly transformed into a spiky hedgehog.
He didn’t dare think about what he’d said, what noises he’d made, during his… private moments.
Xie Zhang, sensing his embarrassment, smoothly changed the subject: “What did you want to ask me?”
He casually placed the used handkerchief over the gearshift.
His gaze cleared, his mind memorizing every detail of Song Jingmo’s earlier actions.
Song Jingmo, easily distracted, had forgotten his question.
The shadow ring around Xie Zhang’s finger tightened, leaving a faint red mark.
He loved the mole on Xie Zhang’s Adam’s apple, but apart from that slightly… unusual… preference, he was most drawn to his hands.
Perhaps all musicians, upon meeting someone new, instinctively looked at their hands.
Xie Zhang’s hands were the most beautiful, the most captivating, he’d ever seen.
He remembered the moment, seven years ago, when he’d realized he was falling for Xie Zhang.
“Were you… looking for me when you came back then?” he asked curiously.
Xie Zhang, leaning back in the driver’s seat, his jacket open, revealing the dark vest beneath, smiled faintly, remembering that encounter.
“No.”
Song-shadow sat up abruptly, staring at him incredulously.
“I never left, so there was no need to return.”
The chibi shadow slipped from the car window, landing in Xie Zhang’s outstretched hand.
“I was waiting for you.”
“I waited for a long time.”
“For you.”
Xie Zhang traced Song Jingmo’s question mark-shaped tendril with his finger, his voice calm, a hint of aggrieved reproach in his tone.
