CTS 62

After saying those words, Shen Mo slowly let go of Ji Mingxuan’s hand, as if he had used up all the strength he had left in his life.

That rainy night seven years ago, Ji Mingxuan had placed his heart in Shen Mo’s hands, but it had never been returned. Now that everything had changed, Shen Mo only wanted Ji Mingxuan to see where his heart had always been.

But this one-man performance had run its course.

Shen Mo glanced at the time and said with quiet regret, “It hasn’t even been half an hour.”

Ji Mingxuan said nothing. His face showed no expression, but his eyes never left Shen Mo.

Avoiding that gaze, Shen Mo looked again at the painted ring on Ji Mingxuan’s hand. It wasn’t the best work he had ever done, but it was by far the one he had poured the most into.

And now, he would erase that heart with his own hands.

Shen Mo stood up and said, “Let me help you wash the paint off.”

But Ji Mingxuan remained seated. He looked down at the painting on his hand under the soft light and asked, “Is that all? You’re not going to paint a portrait?”

Shen Mo paused before replying, “There’s no need.”

He had already painted on the canvas of his heart. No brush or ink could ever reproduce that. So why bother?

Ji Mingxuan nodded, stood up, and said, “I’ll wash it myself.”

Shen Mo opened the bathroom door and filled the sink with water. He was afraid the paint wouldn’t come off easily, so he also took out a bar of soap.

Ji Mingxuan followed him in and rolled up his sleeve.

Shen Mo caught sight of his cufflinks and was suddenly reminded of something. His eyes stung with heat, and he quickly looked away.

The sound of running water echoed in the small space.

Shen Mo closed his eyes, feeling something inside him slowly churn, as if the sound were stirring his organs.

As Ji Mingxuan washed his hands, he asked, “Do you have any plans after you return home?”

“Of course I’ll keep painting. I use my left hand now. As for my right…” Shen Mo remembered the promise he had once made, and paused. “I won’t use it for painting anymore.”

“Are you planning to get married?”

“We’ll see. Depends on fate. I don’t know if I’ll ever meet the right person.”

“What kind of person would that be?”

Shen Mo hesitated, unsure how to answer. When Ji Mingxuan repeated the question, he forced himself to respond, “I don’t have any particular requirements. As long as we share the same interests.”

He was fumbling for words when Ji Mingxuan suddenly asked, “What do you think about me?”

Shen Mo turned toward him in shock. “Mr. Ji…”

Ji Mingxuan reached out and pinched Shen Mo’s chin.

It was his left hand.

His hand was still dry. The painted ring on his ring finger remained vivid and untouched.

Ji Mingxuan tilted Shen Mo’s chin upward, forcing him to meet his gaze. His fingers brushed gently over Shen Mo’s lips. His voice dropped low as he asked, “If this is your heart, why do you want to wash it away?”

Shen Mo’s chest tightened. His lips parted, but in the end, he said nothing. What was missed was missed. He had stolen these thirty minutes, and that was already more than he had expected. From now on, there was no reason for them to meet again.

He pushed Ji Mingxuan’s hand away and turned to walk out of the bathroom.

“I’m flying home tomorrow. I still need to finish packing. You should get some rest too. The paint on your hand… it’s better to wash it off. Even if Mrs. Ji isn’t here…”

Ji Mingxuan cut him off. “Who said I’m married?”

Shen Mo thought he must have misheard. He stood frozen for a moment before finally finding his voice.

“You’re not?”

Ji Mingxuan raised his left hand slightly. “If I were married, why would this finger still be bare?”

“But Ji Ning…”

Ji Mingxuan remained calm as he slowly stepped toward him. “A man can be the father of a three-year-old and still be single, can’t he?”

Of course, it was possible. A child born out of wedlock, maybe a divorce… or something else entirely. Shen Mo couldn’t be sure.

Ji Mingxuan was already standing in front of him.

Shen Mo instinctively took a step back. His back hit the floor-to-ceiling window. There was nowhere else to retreat.

Ji Mingxuan raised his arms and caged him in.

There was something about him that reminded Shen Mo of that night four years ago. But back then, Ji Mingxuan had been drunk. Tonight, he was completely sober. His eyes were clear and bright, filled with something that made Shen Mo’s breath catch. His voice brushed lightly past Shen Mo’s ear as he said his name.

“Shen Mo.”

So close that even his voice trembled, Shen Mo answered, “Yes… it’s me.”

The moment he spoke, Ji Mingxuan kissed him.

It was a light, delicate kiss. As if he was afraid to startle him. His lips barely pressed against Shen Mo’s, his tongue carefully tracing between his teeth.

Shen Mo felt heat spreading through his entire body, but some shred of reason remained. He turned his head slightly, trying to resist. “Mrs. Ji…”

“There’s no such person,” Ji Mingxuan said. “And even if there were, it would have to be you.”

Shen Mo’s words caught in his throat. It was a while before he could ask, “Why?”

Ji Mingxuan didn’t answer.

Instead, he looked at Shen Mo deeply, then lifted his left hand and brought it to his lips, gently touching the painted ring with a kiss.

Shen Mo held his breath, feeling as if Ji Mingxuan had kissed the very center of his heart.

And in that instant, he understood.

There is one thing in this world that can never be hidden. When you love someone, even if you say nothing, even if you try to hold it back, the way you look at them will always give you away.