Chapter 82: That Secret Called a First Kiss…

Lamps blazed through the night, and drums and music filled the air. Accompanied by drumbeats powerful enough to shatter the darkness, a massive white elephant made of glued silk appeared at the end of the alley.

The Board Dragon procession had always been led by the Five Beasts, with the White Elephant being the most precious among them. Crafted from silk fabric, the elephant stood tall and majestic, draped in a gold-and-red long blanket across its back, its head adorned with golden vines. Several strong young men pushed the elephant cart with all their might. Wherever the White Elephant passed, firecrackers exploded in unison, and a few elderly folks in their nineties, supported by family, walked alongside it with beaming smiles.

Following the White Elephant came the qilin, lion, rhinoceros, and Plum Blossom Deer, one after another. All made of silk stretched over bamboo frames, they had exaggerated, eye-catching shapes. Around the Five Beasts, people carrying gongs, beating drums, and blowing suona horns formed the accompaniment team, interweaving with the flag bearers to heat up the frigid night.

Some thrill-seeking young people rushed straight into the Five Beasts Team with handheld fireworks. With a few “bang, bang, bang” explosions overhead, colorful confetti in gold, red, green, and purple scattered everywhere, fluttering and drifting down, drawing cheers from the children.

“Pingping, you all go play too.” Lu Dad handed over a handheld firework. “Take little Shen to greet the dragon and catch some good luck.”

“Sure!” Lu Ping agreed readily, slinging the long firework tube over his shoulder and beckoning to Shen Yuze.

An An had wanted to join the fun too, but Lu Mom wouldn’t allow it, worried that her small frame might get bumped or stepped on. She kept An An at the doorstep to play.

An An pouted pitifully, watching as her brother and Shen-ge dashed off and vanished in a flash.

Lu Ping ran against the flow of the crowd toward the rear of the Five Beasts Team. Dawn hadn’t broken yet, but every household glowed with lights. The performers twisted and jumped with silk lanterns in hand to the drumbeats. Afraid Shen Yuze would lose him, Lu Ping kept looking back, nearly crashing into a flag bearer—Shen Yuze yanked him back just in time, sparing him embarrassment.

The crowd was thick here, with many youths their age frolicking in the parade. Shen Yuze took Lu Ping’s hand. Lu Ping struggled a few times but couldn’t break free, so he went along with it.

Lu Ping comforted himself: Everyone’s caught up in their own fun—who’s paying attention to us?

“Go greet the dragon!” Lu Ping said. “The Five Beasts Team and Board Dragon Team assemble at the Marshal Temple. The Five Beasts set off before dawn, and the Board Dragon follows at sunrise. Look, the sky’s lightening—we’ve got to reach the Marshal Temple before the sun comes up!”

Just as Lu Ping said, the horizon had turned fish-belly white unnoticed. The sun hadn’t crested yet, but the first rays had touched the little town.

Hand in hand, they ran toward the Marshal Temple, facing the winter dawn’s first light, the flying confetti, and the laughter and blessings of the crowd. They ran without stopping.

At last, they saw the building with its cyan walls and green tiles.

The Marshal Temple was a modest two-courtyard complex, bustling with incense on ordinary days. It enshrined Daoist Marshal Zhao, guardian of nation and home, promoter of promotions and wealth. But Lu Ping told Shen Yuze that locals worshipped wherever they went, without fuss—old folks for birthdays, kids for exams, even young couples for matchmaking. Everyone came to light incense here.

Shen Yuze remarked, “This Marshal Zhao seems to cover a wide range of services.”

Lu Ping shrugged. “Truth is, everyone who comes to pray already knows the answer in their heart before stepping inside. They’re just seeking peace of mind to follow that path. As for who or what they meet along the way—even the gods can’t say.”

On the plaza outside the Marshal Temple, Shen Yuze finally beheld the true form of the “Board Dragon.” He’d guessed it was like the nationwide dragon dance—a long dragon held aloft by poles, dancers in gold and red, a favorite for foreigners.

But seeing the Board Dragon, he realized he’d been wrong.

For starters, only the dragon head was bright red, with two golden horns thrusting skyward. The left horn read “Favorable Winds and Rains,” the right “National Peace and Prosperity.” The head wasn’t exquisitely crafted but had a rugged, ancient beauty. The body was made of white silk, pasted with blue-finned scales—and crucially, it was segmented!

Each two-meter-plus section of body was fixed to a 1.5-meter-long, 70-centimeter-wide board. This made each segment arch upward like a bridge on the board—hence “Board Dragon.” From afar, it looked like a dragon swimming in the sea, arches breaking the surface.

The entire Board Dragon consisted of this head and over a hundred body segments. During the procession, each needed two burly men to carry. It was a super-long dragon requiring hundreds of people!

Shen Yuze had never heard of such a dance.

The plaza teemed with onlookers—locals chatting over melon seeds, and dusty travelers who’d come from afar.

Lu Ping said proudly, “The Board Dragon is unique to our North Shore. Forget other cities—even South Shore doesn’t have it! So every Winter Solstice, tourists flock here. Besides solstice, Lantern Festival has it too, but not in the morning. Legend says Chang’e misses home and watches from the moon, so we parade after sunset.”

As they spoke, a white-haired, bearded Daoist priest emerged from the temple and stood before the dragon head—the chief officiant for today’s Winter Sacrifice.

“The auspicious hour has arrived—” the Daoist priest’s voice boomed over the plaza’s din. “—Board Dragon, set forth!”

Suona and drums blared. The dragon dancers hoisted the Board Dragon onto their shoulders, forming a coiling, writhing giant. Tourists whipped out phones, eyes glued to the rare sight.

To the music, the dragon circled slowly in the plaza center. Head met tail, then the head veered inward, spiraling tighter. When it reached the core, the head carriers thrust it high, while body bearers knelt one by one, forming a peak at the head and low tail.

The dragon eyes blinked—the rising sun hit them perfectly, as if heaven itself had dotted the eyes!

The music climaxed! Cheers erupted! People surged forward, dancing with the dragon to the beat.

Shen Yuze and Lu Ping exchanged a glance. Without a word, hands clasped tight, they rushed into the dragon team.

They wove between body segments, white waves encircling them. They stepped to the drums, the rhythm, immersing fully in this ancient rite. They danced, jumped, laughed, and reveled. All worries fled; in this glorious festival, they were just two silly boys joyful for winter’s arrival.

Everyone went wild. Some unleashed prepped spray streamers, spraying wildly skyward. Colors leaped, then draped the dragon.

Lu Ping shook his handheld firework and asked Shen Yuze, “Wanna light it together?”

He circled behind Lu Ping, embracing him, their hands together on the long tube.

Shen Yuze whispered in his ear, “Ready?”

“Of course!” Lu Ping shouted excitedly. “—Here we go, Happy Winter Solstice!!”

They twisted hard. Next instant, colorful confetti shot skyward, then drifted down in movie-like slow motion under gravity.

Lu Ping ducked into Shen Yuze’s arms to dodge the sticky bits. Shen Yuze tilted his head up in the morning light, eyes half-closed, awaiting them.

Lu Ping’s gaze caught a golden fleck, swaying in the chill breeze, refracting soft sun-glow. It drifted and drifted, finally landing on Shen Yuze’s cheek, nudged by the wind.

Lu Ping thought dazedly that if little immortals really peeked from clouds at mortal revels, they’d favor Shen Yuze just like him.

…

After the coiling, the high-held head extended outward, body trailing, stretching down the alley. They formed an infinity shape, then followed the chief officiant along the streets.

Next came the main event: street patrol. The Board Dragon Team circled the town, blessing homes with dragon qi, returning at noon to the temple.

Tourists trailed the team, but Lu Ping held Shen Yuze back.

“The patrol’s nothing special,” Lu Ping said. “Just alley by alley—fun, but boring after a bit.”

He lifted his hand, plucking the golden fleck from Shen Yuze’s cheek and slyly pocketing it while he wasn’t looking. “Come, let’s go inside and light incense.”

Shen Yuze was surprised. “Now?”

“Yeah, everyone’s off with the dragon—temple’s empty.” Lu Ping knew the drill. “Wait longer, it’ll swarm with worshippers. Can’t even squeeze in, let alone pray.”

Shen Yuze had no objections—whatever Lu Ping said, he followed.

They brushed confetti off each other and ran against the crowd to the Marshal Temple.

As Lu Ping predicted, it was deserted save for the young Daoist attendant and a few stragglers.

The temple was small, main hall ceiling under five meters. Marshal Zhao’s colorful clay statue presided, hall freshly cleaned for the solstice, offerings piled high.

Before praying, purify hands. Outside hung a bucket of “Long Flowing Water” fetched from the mountains yesterday by the chief. A long-handled wooden ladle sat beside it. Shen Yuze scooped first—not for himself, but gesturing for Lu Ping to extend his hand.

“I’ll do it myself,” Lu Ping said.

Shen Yuze shook his head, urging with his eyes.

Lu Ping obediently extended his hand, and the spring water from Shen Yuze’s gourd slowly poured down, instantly wetting his palm and the back of his hand.

He simply rubbed his hands together, then switched places with Shen Yuze. They took turns fetching water for each other and washing their hands. The icy mountain spring water cleansed the dirt from their hands and also calmed their restless hearts.

After purifying their hands, Lu Ping went to the nearby incense counter and fetched six sticks of incense, handing three of them to Shen Yuze.

“Look, the incense burner is spotless. We’re probably the first ones here,” Lu Ping said excitedly. “They say the first incense on Winter Solstice is especially efficacious! Even if you don’t make a wish, just bow and say a few auspicious words to the gods, and next year will go smoothly for you.”

The stick of incense handed to Shen Yuze was already lit, with faint wisps of smoke rising from the tip and light ash scattering delicately.

Shen Yuze stood before the incense burner, looking up at the majestic statue of the deity that commanded respect without anger.

He had seen many grand religious structures before—for instance, the Sagrada Família that had been under construction for a century yet remained unfinished, the Christ the Redeemer statue embracing the world from the peak in Rio, or the Bamiyan Buddhas amid the flames of war… When he visited those sacred religious icons, his heart had never stirred, for he did not believe in these fabricated deities.

But now, standing side by side with Lu Ping in this small temple, he suddenly wanted to thank those elusive gods.

Without the protection of the immortals, that delicious bowl of Lei Yuan, the endless Board Dragon procession, the colorful confetti falling on their heads… even their initial meeting might never have happened.

Lu Ping devoutly closed his eyes and bowed to the statue with his incense raised. Beside him, Shen Yuze imitated his actions, offering his own reverence to the deity.

After paying their respects, the two inserted their incense sticks into the burner in front of the shrine. Lu Ping had always loved the scent in temples—a serene, profound, mysterious fragrance mingled with centuries of time and the sincere prayers of every devotee.

Lu Ping turned his head to look at Shen Yuze and suddenly grinned mischievously. “Shen Yuze, guess what wish I made to the gods?”

Shen Yuze replied, “Hoping to get into your ideal university?”

When they had folded Gold Ingots the night before, Lu Ping had hoped his late grandparents would bless him to succeed in the college entrance exams. Shen Yuze naturally assumed this time he had made the same wish.

But the boy unexpectedly shook his head. “Nope.”

“Hoping An An stops being so naughty?”

“Nope.”

“Hmm… then maybe hoping your uncle and aunt stay healthy and open their shop soon?”

Lu Ping pretended to complain, half-seriously. “Come on, you’re thinking of more wishes than I did!”

Shen Yuze really couldn’t guess, so he gave him a helpless look, hoping he would stop teasing and reveal the answer.

Seeing Shen Yuze’s bewildered expression, Lu Ping laughed cheerfully. His smile was like a beam of light shining in from outside the shrine, landing precisely on Shen Yuze’s heart.

The boy spoke, revealing the answer: “The wish I made was—I hope you’re happy.”

“…” Shen Yuze froze.

“I hope you’re happier today than yesterday, and tomorrow happier than today. I hope the hurt you received from your parents can be smoothed away by time; I hope one day you can escape that quagmire and become a free person.

“I hope you make more friends and talk more with others; I hope you overcome your seafood allergy soon, so you can taste more delicious foods; I hope you smile more, stop being so aloof, and fully enjoy happiness.”

“…”

Lu Ping gazed at him intently, the boy’s round eyes reflecting the teenager’s figure. “Shen Yuze, even though your birthday isn’t today, I want to wish you a happy eighteenth birthday in advance.”

He didn’t say the rest aloud, but it was written in his eyes—Shen Yuze, I hope every birthday in your future is as happy as today.

No one could remain unmoved after hearing those words, at least not Shen Yuze.

He wanted to tell Lu Ping that he didn’t need birthday wishes, because every day with Lu Ping was filled with immense joy. It was a happiness rising from the depths of his soul, enough to make up for all the regrets in his short life.

Suddenly, a gust of wind swept through the hall. It awakened the copper bells on the corridor, brushed the curtains before the statue, and carried the curling sandalwood incense from the burner toward them.

It was like some wondrous signal. Before Lu Ping could even trace where the wind had come from, the next second, Shen Yuze’s hand wrapped around his shoulder.

That hand had distinct knuckles and a scorching palm.

In Lu Ping’s vision, Shen Yuze leaned down, that flawlessly handsome face drawing closer bit by bit. At such close range, Lu Ping could clearly see his own reflection in those deep, profound eyes.

Shen Yuze moved slowly, so slowly that Lu Ping could have raised a hand to push him away and stop what came next.

He gave the boy room to refuse.

Lu Ping could have refused.

Lu Ping should have refused.

But… Lu Ping did not.

—The next second, their distance became zero, their four lips overlapping as soft lips touched.

…

Under the gaze of gods and Buddhas, in the serene temple amid the curling sandalwood incense, they shared a heart-stirring secret.

That secret was called a first kiss.