The Vacation Manor had been built right by the lake. They arrived too late, and by then the roads were empty of tourists.
Zhou Zhuoyuan had fallen asleep in the car. With the heater cranked up high, Ji He gently touched his cheek. It was soft and feverishly warm, smooth as satin.
The driver hit the brakes hard, startling Ji He into yanking his hand back.
“Sorry, Little Young Master. There’s a rock up ahead—I’ll go move it.”
Zhou Zhuoyuan stirred awake, rubbing his bleary eyes. “We there yet?”
A pang of regret tugged at Ji He’s heart. “Almost.”
Ji Feng had booked them a two-bedroom suite. The moment Zhou Zhuoyuan set down his bags, Ji He thrust the phone to his ear.
Zhou Fuxuan said “hello” a couple of times from the other end.
Zhou Zhuoyuan’s tone was icy. “What do you want?”
Zhou Fuxuan sounded like he was barely containing his fury. “Why hasn’t your phone been ringing?”
Only then did Zhou Zhuoyuan notice his phone had shut itself off from a dead battery. “It ran out.”
Zhou Fuxuan pressed on. “Did we say you could go off playing? You send one message and disappear? Skipping the holiday—what the hell are you doing? Little Yi was talking about you just yesterday…”
Zhou Zhuoyuan cut him off. “Butt out.”
With that, he shoved the phone into Ji He’s arms.
Ji He caught it hurriedly. “Uncle, he’s with me. You can relax…”
After hanging up, Zhou Fuxuan turned to his wife on the bed and griped, “This kid’s getting way too rebellious.”
Zhu Wan brushed it off. “What do you expect when you start barking at him?”
Zhou Fuxuan ground his teeth. “If I don’t lay into him, he won’t be half as sensible as Little Yi. Keep babying him like this, and he’s bound to screw up someday.”
~~~
By the time Zhou Zhuoyuan finished washing up and plugged in his phone to charge, it was nearing two in the morning. High schoolers had stamina for late nights like this. The second he powered it on, notifications flooded in.
Most were simple New Year’s Day or Happy New Year wishes. Zhou Zhuoyuan pulled up Baidu to search for greeting templates but couldn’t find one he liked, so he went through each chat one by one, typing out “Happy New Year’s Day” followed by the default firecracker emojis.
Sun Yuqing noticed he was still awake and pinged him: Master, you made it onto the Confession Wall.
Zhou Zhuoyuan had never joined the Confession Wall himself, but he’d scrolled through its memes before. “What’d they say about me?”
Sun Yuqing: Nothing big, just asking for your contact info. Should I share it?
Zhou Zhuoyuan didn’t hesitate. “No.”
He put it out of his mind right away and kept replying to the rest.
He Qinglan was up late too: Just checked into the hotel?
Zhou Zhuoyuan: Yeah, traffic was a nightmare.
Sleepiness was creeping in; he let out a small yawn.
A voice message came back: Get some rest. Good night.
That voice—slightly husky with a magnetic gentleness—was oddly hypnotic. Zhou Zhuoyuan typed back a quick “Good night,” then drifted off with the screen still glowing.
New Year’s Day brought crowds to every scenic spot in the city. Ji He had worried at first that Zhou Zhuoyuan might hate the raucous atmosphere, but to his surprise, Zhou Zhuoyuan seemed even happier than he’d expected. He even reassured Ji He: “The more people, the better. That’s what makes it feel like a holiday.”
The Northern Small City suffered from heavy population drain, so even Chinese New Year rarely saw crowds like this. In years past, his neighbors had looked out for him, but eventually he was left alone. That isolation—the sense of being abandoned by the world—had driven him to seek out the bustle of crowds. Northerners were warm by nature, quick to strike up chats even with total strangers.
Ji He wasn’t much for rubbing elbows with people, but Zhou Zhuoyuan looked so thrilled that he played along, pretending to enjoy it. He’d wait until his body couldn’t take it anymore before suggesting they head back.
As it turned out, Zhou Zhuoyuan was the first to hit his limit. The press of bodies left him breathless, and even the trendy street food he’d waited in line for lost its appeal. “Ji… Ji He.”
Ji He had been heading to the next food stall when he stopped and turned. Zhou Zhuoyuan’s face was ashen, his forehead slick with sweat.
Ji He hustled him into a nearby Dining Room and flagged down a server for a cup of hot water. “What happened? You okay?”
Zhou Zhuoyuan sat there recovering for a bit. “I think I’m running low on oxygen.”
His hands clutched half-eaten snacks. Ji He unwound his scarf and tugged off his hat. “Dude, your endurance is trash.”
Zhou Zhuoyuan grumbled sourly, “Yeah, a bit… not as good as you young bucks.”
At twenty-three, his body had its issues: old hand injuries, a weak stomach, prone to chilblains.
Ji He figured the heat had gotten to him. “Hang out here and rest. We’ll head back to the hotel after lunch, okay? This afternoon we can take a boat out on the lake. You into fishing? I can have them set up some gear if you want.”
Zhou Zhuoyuan shook his head. “Nah, I hate the fishy smell.”
Back when he was little, Lin Boxu had loved eating fish. He’d told himself he refused to like anything that bully enjoyed—and in time, he really had come to hate it.
The sky was thick with clouds that day. As the sun dipped below the horizon, it painted half the heavens orange and the other half blue. The clouds aligned with different factions, their layers blending into the reflection shimmering on the lake’s surface.
Aboard the little boat, Ji He was idly scrolling through short videos out of boredom when a sudden whim struck him. He snapped a photo of Zhou Zhuoyuan, who was bundled up in a blanket, lost in the scenery.
Zhou Zhuoyuan heard the shutter click and turned his head with a displeased frown.
Click.
The resulting photo was several times more lively than the one before.
