BOSF 033: Promise

In the end, Ji Yan cried his heart out that day. Holding the large and small pterodactyls carefully, as if afraid to damage them, he gently touched them before placing them in a box to take home.

Ji Yan decided to buy a clear display case to showcase them on his bookshelf, treasuring them daily. These were the first creations Xiang Yang made for him, and he wanted to cherish them forever.

The “Yan Dragon” pterodactyls posted online received a good response. Many shared, liked, and commented, praising their beauty and craftsmanship, some even asking for tutorials on how they were made.

Though the account was Xiang Yang’s, Ji Yan managed it. He rarely responded to comments, as it was time-consuming, and being in his third year of high school, his study schedule was tight, leaving less time for Xiang Yang. He didn’t want to waste time on anything but him.

While he thought a tutorial was a good idea to draw more attention to Xiang Yang’s work, he lacked the energy. Ignoring the comments, the post’s popularity faded after two days.

Over the year, Ji Yan had photographed nearly all of Xiang Yang’s creations, and repeating the same ones felt pointless. Xiang Yang’s origami skills had advanced, reaching a new milestone of independent creation. He no longer made simple pieces, and after the pterodactyl, his enthusiasm for new projects was evident, his creativity thriving.

Xiang Yang lived in his own world, content without an audience or encouragement, purely enjoying the process without ulterior motives. His purity fueled his passion—the more he enjoyed it, the more he continued, undisturbed by external pressures or expectations.

Ji Yan saw in him a transcendence rare in a materialistic, distracted world—focusing solely on one goal. Though Ji Yan taught Xiang Yang, he received more in return.

As Xiang Yang’s sole supporter, Ji Yan didn’t demand a specific future for him. He only wished for Xiang Yang’s happiness and unchanging purity, willing to work harder for both their sakes.

However, Xiang Yang’s next project wasn’t short-term—he planned another year-long creation. The Cute Boy Next Door account went dormant, losing followers rapidly, nearly forgotten.

Ji Yan stopped managing it, prioritizing his limited free time with Xiang Yang.

As the college entrance exam approached, the countdown on the classroom blackboard dropped from three digits to two. The pressure weighed on all third-year students, the atmosphere tense, nerves frayed. Ji Yan set aside thoughts of university life, focusing on graduation and the critical exam.

He stayed calm, answering questions steadily. His two years of effort paid off, ranking him in the class’s top ten. Advancing further was tougher, requiring double the effort for less visible results. Not naturally gifted, he was far from first place, but he felt no shame. While others worked hard too, and talent wasn’t equal, time was fair.

After the exam, he left the testing center, where parents and students gathered outside. Faces showed raw emotions—joyful students planned outings, while others, disappointed, cried in their parents’ arms.

The center wasn’t far from home, and Ji Yan had come alone, feeling freer without his parents.

Scanning the crowd’s emotions, he let them fade from his mind. All he wanted was to hurry home to Xiang Yang.

The bus was crowded. After getting off, Ji Yan ran home, ignoring adults asking about his exam. Sweaty in the muggy weather, he planned to change before seeing Xiang Yang but spotted him at the apartment entrance.

Xiang Yang stood alone in the shade, as if waiting for him. When passersby approached, he’d glance up, checking if it was Ji Yan. Ji Yan had mentioned the important exam, and Xiang Yang remembered, waiting here for him.

Xiang Yang rarely went out, especially after falling in love with origami, preferring to stay in his room. Yet here he was, standing in the heat, face glistening with sweat, having waited for a while.

Xiang Yang wasn’t romantic, didn’t initiate, or speak sweet words—Ji Yan had to teach him many things. He was quiet and stoic, but he waited at the door, spent a year crafting a unique gift, used clumsy gestures to show his love, and worked to overcome challenges like going outside, all for Ji Yan.

It was a small gesture, but it overwhelmed Ji Yan with emotion. Unconditional love made even tiny acts feel fulfilling and joyful. Smiling, uncaring of onlookers, he ran into Xiang Yang’s arms.

At the dim stairwell, Ji Yan couldn’t hide his excitement and affection, giving him a light kiss.

Xiang Yang’s dark eyes seemed deeper in the shadows, holding Ji Yan gently yet cautiously. Ji Yan had taught him not to be intimate in public, and though Ji Yan broke the rule often, Xiang Yang obeyed.

Ji Yan meant to keep it brief, but seeing Xiang Yang’s restraint, he kissed him again, cherishing the moment.

It was just a few seconds, their lips parting quickly, but the gentle afterglow lingered in their hearts.

Ji Yan hadn’t relaxed like this in ages. Before results came out, he didn’t want to do anything, lazily lying on Xiang Yang’s bed, watching him fold. With more time together, he resumed posting photos.

Logging into Cute Boy Next Door after three months, he recalled posting a doodle when Xiang Yang had no new work. During Ji Yan’s exam prep, Xiang Yang finished a new creation: an Eastern dragon.

Too long for one sheet, its body was pieced together, scales meticulously added, curving gracefully as if swimming through clouds or water.

The only flaw was using scrap paper, including Ji Yan’s old test sheets, leaving colorful marks and corrections. Yet it didn’t detract from its beauty.

Ji Yan was amazed at origami’s possibilities and Xiang Yang’s skill.

He’d considered making a tutorial but doubted others could replicate it or had the patience. Since the request came only once, likely not serious, he let it go.

The dragon’s photos gained some traction online but didn’t spark much. Online content moves fast; without regular updates, attention fades quickly.

Ji Yan wasn’t skilled at social media. He logged into his own account sporadically and didn’t know how to boost Xiang Yang’s work, so he kept the slow posting pace.

A week later, exam results came out.

Ji Yan scored well—not top-tier, but meeting his expectations, qualifying him for his target school. He filled out his applications and let it go.

A month passed, and Ji Yan spent it with Xiang Yang—buying art books, visiting bookstores, eating out, and going to the zoo. He bought a display case for the “Yan Dragon” pterodactyls, planning to keep them in his dorm, prominently displayed.

Happy times flew by, and the day of departure neared.

Looking at the pterodactyls—the large one shielding the small—Ji Yan’s joy turned to sadness.

He couldn’t bear leaving Xiang Yang, worried about how he’d cope.

In their final days, they held each other longer, their kisses more tender and reluctant.

Xiang Yang might not have understood at first, but Ji Yan’s demeanor made it clear. He hugged Ji Yan tightly, unwilling to let go. “Don’t… don’t go…”

It was the first time Xiang Yang used such strong words to express himself. Tears welled in Ji Yan’s eyes as he hugged him tighter. “Xiang Yang, wait for me. Wait for me to come back, okay?”

Promises were the weakest guarantees, Ji Yan knew. But Xiang Yang believed him, pausing before mumbling, “Mm.” He loosened his grip, as if agreeing to let Ji Yan pursue his path.

True love respects the other’s wishes—a truth many understand but few practice, as people are selfish.

Xiang Yang couldn’t say it, but he showed it—he wanted to protect Ji Yan and see him thrive.

Ji Yan had been selfish many times but didn’t want to break this promise. Now an adult, he was resolute. “Xiang Yang, let’s… let’s make love, okay?”