—

The next morning Xu Yan woke past nine, turned his head to look—the blanket on the other side was folded neatly—Shen Zhi had already left. Xu Yan lay in bed dawdling for a while, then got up to wash. Today the whole group was going to Sapporo, but since there wasn't much substantive work, Lu Sen told everyone to sleep in as late as they wanted.

Probably because he'd slept so poorly the night before, Xu Yan hadn't woken when Shen Zhi left that morning. He couldn't say what he felt, but thought it was better this way, best this way.

After washing up and coming out, Xu Yan was changing when the door was tapped lightly a few times. Since no one had spoken, it couldn't be the staff—so it was Lu Sen and the others. Xu Yan went to open the door while still dressing, asking, 'Are we leaving? I'll be right—'

The word 'there' hadn't come out before Xu Yan fell silent—the one standing outside was Shen Zhi. Xu Yan pulled down the T-shirt he'd half pulled on; Shen Zhi's gaze followed from his pale chest down along the hem's coverage to his waist, and by the time Xu Yan had finished dressing, Shen Zhi had also raised his eyes and said, 'I bought you breakfast.'

There were faint dark circles under his eyes, a lot of red in the whites, his lashes drooping—when Shen Zhi slept poorly and was off, his lashes would sag; Xu Yan knew this best of all.

'No need.' Xu Yan turned back into the room, took a sweater from the rack. He thought Shen Zhi had left, but the other man came back carrying breakfast, and Xu Yan felt a sense of being denied—that kind, where you think it's over, you're about to catch your breath, and then suddenly your mouth is covered, someone tells you: no, you're wrong, it isn't over yet.

He could barely breathe.

'Did I wake you when I left this morning?' Shen Zhi closed the door, set the breakfast on the table, asked.

He really hadn't heard a thing, which went to show how lightly Shen Zhi had moved—after all, Xu Yan slept so lightly. Xu Yan pulled on his jacket and said, 'No.'

'But you were very loud last night.' Xu Yan's face was cold. 'I don't know what you got up to in the middle of the night, you kept me from sleeping well all night.'

He knew better than anyone what had actually happened with Shen Zhi the night before.

Shen Zhi paused, his face somewhat pale, but he didn't explain. He said, 'Sorry, for keeping you from resting well.'

Something suddenly tightened in Xu Yan's chest. He bent down, picked up the DSLR bag, grabbed his phone and headed out: 'I'm taking the room card, make sure the door's shut when you leave.' He heard Shen Zhi softly call 'Xu Yan,' but he didn't hesitate—pulled the door open and walked out.

Shen Zhi was just picking up a rice ball and a bottle of milk, meaning to have Xu Yan take them, but the next second the door closed. So he stood there, his gaze fixed on the door, not moving for a long time.

The group arrived in Sapporo, and Lu Sen tossed the shooting aside, took them skiing instead. Lunch wasn't until past one, and the great photographer Lu finally remembered the filming, but they hadn't shot for a few hours before the sky darkened. Lu Sen told everyone to wrap up and head back to Otaru—said there was a good bar there.

At the bar, the group started chatting gossip—in this circle, the one thing you never lacked was behind-the-scenes stories and scandal. Xu Yan didn't talk much, just listened, laughing as he drank, and before he knew it was getting fuzzy. Lu Sen asked him, 'Dizzy?'

'A little.' Xu Yan said. He was quiet for a moment, then asked, 'Can I borrow your name once?'

Lu Sen raised an eyebrow: 'What do you mean?'

'Not for public use, nothing financial at stake.' Xu Yan was drunk but still articulate. 'Just—mention it in front of someone, won't bring you any trouble.'

'Mm-hmm.' Lu Sen's fingertip traced back and forth along the rim of his glass. He said, 'Sure, I agree.'

After three hours of drinking, they'd had their fill, and the group walked back slowly. Lu Sen was the most sober, supporting Xu Yan the whole way. Near the hotel entrance, he said to Xu Yan, 'Hey, look up.'

Xu Yan obediently raised his head and saw Shen Zhi standing in the same spot as yesterday. Probably hearing the noise, Shen Zhi also looked up, then walked toward them. He didn't look at anyone else, lowered his eyes and took Xu Yan from Lu Sen's hands. In front of outsiders, Xu Yan didn't struggle. Lu Sen explained to the colleagues who were watching blearily in their direction, 'Xu Yan's friend.'

Only then did Shen Zhi nod at them and say, 'I'll take Xu Yan up first.' He held Xu Yan close, guiding him up the steps, the two of them pressed near, and Xu Yan caught the cold, lingering scent of cologne on him.

'Why aren't you leaving yet,' Xu Yan asked him.

Shen Zhi paused, then said, 'I'll walk with you.'

Xu Yan suddenly laughed briefly, and said nothing more.

In the room, Shen Zhi helped Xu Yan off with his jacket, settled him on the bed, then went to the bathroom for a hot towel. He half-knelt by the bed, wiping Xu Yan's face and neck. Xu Yan frowned and turned his head away: 'Stop it.'

'Okay.' Shen Zhi hung the towel aside and asked, 'Some hot water?'

'No need.' Xu Yan raised a hand to cover his eyes, seeming a little irritated. 'Why is it so bright.'

So Shen Zhi turned off the bedroom light; only the light from the living room side spilled over a little. The view dimmed, Xu Yan lowered his hand and opened his eyes to look at Shen Zhi. Neither spoke. In Shen Zhi's eyes Xu Yan saw something he'd never seen before—things he hadn't dared imagine back then, now they were all there, though the best moment had already been missed.

His hand, hanging by the bed, was suddenly taken. Shen Zhi's hand was still cool. He sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at Xu Yan. He didn't grip tightly, as if leaving the choice to Xu Yan—stay in his palm, or pull away, either was fine.

Xu Yan's fingertips moved, and he gently gripped Shen Zhi's hand back.

He heard Shen Zhi's breath catch, then Shen Zhi leaned close and called softly, 'Xu Yan.'

Xu Yan closed his eyes: 'Mm.'

A sense of pressure came; their nose tips bumped together, Shen Zhi bit his lower lip, and at the same moment he slotted his fingers one by one into the gaps between Xu Yan's, their hands tightly interlaced.

Though their feelings were a mess, their bodies had always fit perfectly. Xu Yan shivered, tilted his head back and hissed a breath; Shen Zhi lowered his head and kissed his throat—every time Xu Yan swallowed, that spot rolled against Shen Zhi's lips and tongue.

'Hiss…' Xu Yan felt his neck bitten to the point of pain, drew a breath and called out, 'Lu Sen…'

In an instant, the scalding air seemed doused with ice water, becoming a dead, frozen mass. Though both their panting was still rapid and heavy, every motion stopped at once—like an intense film paused with a snap, then glitched—the picture had paused, but the sound kept going.

Breaths tangled. After a long moment, Xu Yan heard Shen Zhi ask hoarsely, 'Who did you just call?'

The emotion in that voice couldn't bear close examination—suppressed and trembling. A bitter taste rose in Xu Yan's throat, clogging all the way to the root of his tongue. He wiped the corner of his mouth and said lightly, 'Sorry.'

Shen Zhi was still leaning over Xu Yan, his chest seemingly filled with sharp ice cones—any movement and the pain was unbearable, he couldn't straighten up at all. He slowly drew his hand out, braced himself on the bed, gripped the sheets tightly, and barely sat up a little. Even in the dim light, Xu Yan could clearly see the expression on his face—disbelieving, hollow, pained.

At this moment Xu Yan felt some regret, thinking why this, why let it come to this—what difference was there between him and the Shen Zhi of four years ago who called 'Yanyan' after kissing. Both wounded, that's all.

But he'd never thought to revenge himself on Shen Zhi; he only wanted to cut clean.

He didn't want to see Shen Zhi suffer like this again and again—the torture wasn't just one person, it was both of them. Xu Yan knew full well he could no longer love Shen Zhi with that all-in, reckless abandon. He'd always pursued an equal, mutual love. Unfortunately, back then Shen Zhi hadn't been willing to give it, and now he himself couldn't give it either. So whether Shen Zhi truly loved him, or how much he loved him, didn't actually matter anymore.

Xu Yan had no interest in playing coy, no interest in testing him, no interest in counting old debts and making Shen Zhi repay them one by one—he truly didn't have a single thought along those lines. Back then he'd loved Shen Zhi cleanly and decisively, and let go the same way. Since the two of them had missed their chance long ago, there was no need to keep pulling at it—no good for anyone.

'I'm sleepy.' Xu Yan reached out and pushed Shen Zhi away, pulled the blanket over himself. 'Just pretend it didn't happen. Don't think about it.'

The wind outside was still blowing. A long time later, Shen Zhi answered, 'Okay.'

He didn't know why, but hearing that word, tears almost burst from his eyes, one drop after another sinking into the pillow. Xu Yan clenched his teeth and made no sound. He felt Shen Zhi stumble slightly as he got up; afraid he'd see him cry, Xu Yan buried his face under the blanket.

A long time later, Xu Yan heard the door close softly. He took a deep breath, fumbled to turn on the light, turned his head, and saw on the bedside table a cup of water still steaming—placed there by Shen Zhi before he left.