Chapter 45
The passionate game continued until late into the night, Xie Zhang shedding layers of clothing while Song Jingmo occasionally… miscalculated.
Exhausted, Xie Zhang fell asleep without changing, yet his sleep was deep and peaceful.
Waking up late, the curtains drawn, he saw Song-shadow, wearing his nightcap, playing on his phone, something clutched between his legs.
Song Jingmo often held plushies while using his devices.
Xie Zhang had seen it many times.
Song Jingmo glanced up, still focused on his phone, seemingly watching a video: “You’re awake? Xu Yi messaged about a project; he wants to confirm something with you.”
“Want your tablet? It’s charging in the living room…”
Xie Zhang was disoriented.
Song Jingmo was usually mindful of boundaries, never touching his phone.
Perhaps their relationship had become too… routine.
There was love, but also distance.
They were intimate, yet they seemed to have lost the initial spark.
Song Jingmo, noticing his silence, saw Xie Zhang watching him, his eyes hazy from sleep.
He hopped onto the pillow: “What’s wrong? Did you oversleep?”
The sunlight highlighted the shadow’s presence.
Xie Zhang saw what Song Jingmo had been playing with: his tie, crumpled on the pillow.
He pulled Song-shadow closer, covering his eyes, burrowing into the covers.
Song Jingmo, plunged into darkness: “?”
He patted Xie Zhang’s chest, then squeezed out, looking at him curiously. Xie Zhang’s hair was a mess, his eyes closed, his fingers gently holding onto Song-shadow.
Song Jingmo felt… cherished.
The same old town, the same guesthouse, the same sky.
He was transported back to that moment in the café, Xie Zhang’s shy request for a kiss.
His heart ached with a sweet longing.
—He wanted to bite Xie Zhang.
—Hard.
—Leaving a mark.
“Xie Zhang… A-Zhang?”
Xie Zhang murmured, then opened his eyes.
A dark shape appeared before him.
A cool kiss landed on the corner of his eye, then his eyelid, then the bridge of his nose.
He froze.
Then his covers were ripped away.
Xie Zhang, suddenly cold: “…”
Shadow tendrils gathered the duvet, playfully slapping him.
“Wake up! We have plans today!”
Xie Zhang, flustered, rushed into the bathroom, turning on the cold water.
But the heat within him remained, and the water gradually warmed.
He opened his eyes.
Song-shadow, who had adjusted the water, gave him a heart, then peeked down, asking:
“Need any help?”
“Free of charge, satisfaction guaranteed~”
…
Xie Zhang felt a strong urge to explore Song Jingmo’s… collection.
But asking directly felt inappropriate.
He pondered this on their way to the café, Song Jingmo perched on his shoulder.
The café was much quieter now.
As Xie Zhang entered, the wind chimes tinkling, the owner turned around. He didn’t recognize Xie Zhang immediately.
Seven years was a long time.
Xie Zhang ordered their drinks, while Song Jingmo noticed a photo board.
He peeked out from Xie Zhang’s collar: “A-Zhang, look! I think that’s us!”
Xie Zhang took down the photo. It was them, seven years ago.
The owner, recognizing him, but seeing him alone, gave him the photo without comment.
Xie Zhang sat down, placing the photo on the table. Song Jingmo stared at it.
The photo captured them in that spring night, and now, they were back, seven years later.
Xie Zhang: “After returning from Yunnan, I felt… uneasy.”
That unease had lingered.
He hadn’t known how to address it.
But it had persisted.
Song Jingmo looked up at him, remembering something he’d always wondered about.
“You always came to my concerts, but why did you always just leave the flowers?”
Xie Zhang traced the edge of the photo: “I felt… you were too far away.”
“So beautiful, and so distant.”
He’d tried to understand Song Jingmo’s passion for music, but artistic appreciation wasn’t something you could learn.
And seeing Xu Yi’s easy camaraderie with Song Jingmo had bothered him.
It was only after Xu Yi had explained that their connection wasn’t about music that Xie Zhang had given up on his artistic pursuits.
He’d started observing their… exchanges… but Xu Yi was discreet.
So, from classical music to… other shared interests, Song Jingmo remained oblivious, while Xie Zhang remained outside the barrier.
Xie Zhang, wanting to express his needs, began to speak.
Song Jingmo, hearing his words, dragged him outside.
—And pushed him onto a piano stool.
Xie Zhang’s hands rested on the keys.
A shadow, forming Song Jingmo’s hand, covered his.
“I can’t teach you about everything, but I can teach you about music.”
“Relax your fingers… I’m here.”
As he played, everyone turned to look.
The owner saw the young man from seven years ago.
…
The music ended, and Xie Zhang exhaled, his fingers tingling.
Song Jingmo’s shadow tendril massaged his fingertips: “See? We’ve connected.”
“It’s okay if you don’t understand music. You just have to like me.”
“But I can teach you. It’s not difficult!”
He clicked his tongue.
“We’ve been talking past each other for seven years… True love, indeed!”
“No more secrets! No more being quiet!”
Seeing the shadow tendril offering a pinky promise, Xie Zhang hesitated.
Should he be honest?
He really wanted to understand Song Jingmo’s… reading material… for research purposes.
“Pinky promise!” Song Jingmo tugged on his hand. “What are you thinking about?”
Xie Zhang: “Nothing. I just realized… romance and practicality are enemies.”
Song Jingmo: “?”
He kicked Xie Zhang’s cufflink. Speak clearly!
Xie Zhang: “Momo, I can learn any language.”
Song Jingmo, still confused, tilted his head.
“I mean, the translation…”
“Don’t ask Xu Yi.”
“Ask me.”
“I’m… better.”
Chapter 46
Xie Zhang’s words had turned Song Jingmo’s brain to mush.
Even after Xie Zhang left, Song Jingmo remained stunned.
The chibi shadow hugged himself, staring at Xie Zhang.
Xie Zhang felt his gaze but kept driving.
Song Jingmo: “…”
He replayed Xie Zhang’s words, the vulnerability, the subtle plea.
It was a lethal combination.
A man in love would agree to anything.
—Unless that “anything” was translating that.
It was too much!
He shook his head, silently screaming.
He already felt guilty for corrupting Xie Zhang with his… reading material.
If Xie Zhang ever offered him a translated… offering…
Aaaaaah!!!
He’d bury them both in the earth’s core.
No, no, that wasn’t right.
The horrifying image jolted him back. He straightened up, trying to dissuade Xie Zhang from this terrible idea.
The car stopped. He looked out and remembered they were near the wishing tree temple.
They’d visited it seven years ago, before Xie Zhang had… understood.
He’d made a wish for their relationship, while Xie Zhang had consulted a monk. He’d then bought the red strings.
Xie Zhang was parking.
Song Jingmo sat on his lap, clearing his throat, his voice hesitant.
“Ahem… A-Zhang… um…”
“Actually… cooking… I mean, translation… it’s… complicated. It’s… different from regular translation.”
He made a “tiny” gesture, then drew a large circle.
“This ‘tiny’ difference… can be… very significant.”
Xie Zhang looked down at him.
Song Jingmo thought he saw hurt in his eyes.
Xie Zhang: “Xu Yi can do it, but I can’t.”
It was a statement, not a question.
Song Jingmo missed the old Xie Zhang.
He gestured frantically, then blurted out: “You and Xu Yi are different! He’s my friend! We share a hobby!”
“But we… we’re… intimate! You’re already stimulating enough; I need some dignity!”
“If you translated… well—”
He didn’t care anymore.
“—fluffy romance is one thing, but… some of it is… extreme… and the thought of you translating those scenes… it’s unsettling!”
“I might have nightmares about your face…”
He looked up and saw the anticipation on Xie Zhang’s face.
Song Jingmo: “…”
He launched a shadow flying kick.
Xie Zhang caught his foot, cupping the warm shadow in his hand.
Hm? It was warmer.
“No! Absolutely not! Translation is a no-go!!!”
“Even lovers need privacy! Stop obsessing over my hobbies!”
“We’re Chinese! We’re supposed to be reserved!”
“Of course, if there’s something… you’re interested in… we can… discuss it… or… experiment…”
He’d never have said such things before.
His voice trailed off, his ears feeling warm.
But that was impossible.
Being a shadow had its advantages. He could maintain a calm facade.
He concluded his speech with an air of authority.
“In short, distance is essential for a balanced relationship! Understand?”
Xie Zhang, holding the chibi shadow, finally spoke:
“Momo, you’re… red.”
He examined the faintly glowing shadow.
“And… warm.”
