Chapter 66

When Yan Mu was nervous, he liked to outline his thoughts and write them down.

Staying clear-headed was important in every situation. His anxious mind began to calm down only once his thoughts took on a visible, structured form.

Yan Mu used outlines to calm himself, but right now, he couldn’t do the same for Jiang Zhihuo.

Jiang Zhihuo was struggling to hold back a laugh. His phone lay face down on the table, one hand supporting his forehead, and his cheeks and lips were twitching as he tried to keep it in.

Jiang Zhihuo held it in for a long time. He finally managed to suppress his laughter before asking, “What’s inside those brackets?”

Yan Mu: “……”

“Be sincere, answer every question, and hold nothing back?”

Yan Mu had no choice but to answer, “…There wasn’t enough time, just marked the key points.”

He’d already guessed it, but it was still hilarious hearing Yan Mu say it out loud. Jiang Zhihuo quickly covered his mouth, his eyes squinting with laughter as his shoulders shook hard.

Yan Mu looked at him helplessly. “You can laugh.”

“No way. The mood won’t let it happen,” Jiang Zhihuo said seriously, doing his best to hold back. “Yan-ge, give me a moment to gather my inner energy…”

Inhale, exhale—Jiang Zhihuo was desperately trying not to laugh.

No matter how much inner energy he tried to gather, he still couldn’t keep it in. After holding it back for too long, his stomach started to hurt, and the injury on his waist ached as well. Eventually, Jiang Zhihuo grabbed his side, let out painful groans, and slumped over the table.

Yan-ge is so f*cking cute!!

The table was already covered with apology items, and the outline had been laid out. The awkward tension between them had faded long ago. It felt just like old times, with the two of them sitting at one table, Jiang Zhihuo watching Yan Mu with a curved smile, quietly waiting for him to say something.

Yan Mu let out a sigh and called, “Xiao Zhou.”

As soon as those two words left Yan Mu’s mouth, Jiang Zhihuo’s thoughts came to a sudden halt.

That single sound crossed over many years¹[T/N: This line is poetic. It suggests that the sound carried deep emotion or memory that spanned a long stretch of time.].

So many things and so much distance, yet everything that felt familiar, full of life, and impossible to forget had all been wrapped up within those two words.

The two looked deeply into each other’s eyes… only to see a durian lying between them. Its strong scent drifted through the air.

It truly ruined the mood.

“Wait! Don’t go on just yet!” Jiang Zhihuo interrupted Yan Mu, thinking the person who brought it should take care of it. “Put the durian in the fridge first.”

Yan Mu: “……”

Even though the exchange didn’t take long, they probably left with different things running through their heads.

While Yan Mu walked off, Jiang Zhihuo gave his face a few quick pats, trying to pull himself together.

Even after all the laughing, once it was time to have a serious talk, he was still a bit dazed.

He had thought of so many possible ways they could cross paths again after such a long time, and any of them would’ve been acceptable, but nothing felt as dramatic as this.

He used to think those childhood memories wouldn’t have stuck around in the other person’s mind, probably already pushed aside. After people turned eighteen, most could barely recall a few names from their younger years.

If they were to meet again and happen to recognize each other, the most that would happen would be a simple greeting, a glance from afar, and then each would walk away without causing any trouble.

Time was far too cruel, able to erase even the things that once felt unforgettable.

To Jiang Zhihuo, meeting Qin-ge again should’ve been nothing special. He imagined they’d smile, wave slightly, pass by, and continue on their paths.

It had never crossed his mind that one day they’d sit together, staring straight at each other, both waiting for explanations.

After placing the durian in the fridge, Yan Mu didn’t return immediately. Jiang Zhihuo heard the sound of running water as he washed his hands, then the room door opened again.

By the time Yan Mu came out, Jiang Zhihuo had already adjusted his mood and expression.

Yan Mu sat opposite him and laid down two reports along with a carefully wrapped box. Its lid was open, and inside was a half-seashell.

The second those two things were pulled out, nothing more needed to be said. They had already expressed everything they wanted to, and his heart sank completely along with them.

Qin-ge hadn’t forgotten. Like him, he remembered everything from beginning to end.

That promise they made long ago, part teasing and part sincere, had been kept all this time in the form of that broken half-seashell.

Jiang Zhihuo clutched his shoulder where the tattoo was inked. He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, but the design had never felt so clear and vivid—like he could trace each line with his fingertips, his palm burning with heat.

He still remembered what it felt like the day he got the tattoo. The design looked simple, but the colors were challenging because they required shading. The tattoo artist kept his skin taut while the machine buzzed nearby, its slight sting spreading as the humming echoed in his ear.

Getting the tattoo back then had definitely been a spur-of-the-moment decision. The item had been lost for years, making it impossible to track down again. He couldn’t remember where he’d read it, but there was a line that stuck with him—tattoos are something beautiful and mysterious, etched into the skin, soaks into the blood, a different form of eternity.

Something about that line stirred something deep inside.

Who doesn’t long for eternity?

“The first time I heard Qu Xiao mention your name was Shin, I started to get suspicious, but I wasn’t completely sure. It’s a pretty common name, and I kept thinking it couldn’t be that much of a coincidence. But then, I saw the tattoo.”

Yan Mu told Jiang Zhihuo the entire story, step by step, explaining precisely what happened and how it happened.

He rarely spoke this much at once. Every sentence was careful and sincere.

“I saw the tattoo on the day you got drunk. People do reckless things when they’re drunk, so don’t drink again.”

“What you said back then. I remember all of it—”

“It’s rather childish. Just a promise I made to someone when I was young.”

“Later, after I escaped, I lost the item. But honestly, what’s lost is lost. There’s no going back. Saying we’d meet again is a joke. There are just too many people. Move houses, change numbers, change names; no one can find anyone.”

“The school is small, with only four classes on each floor. In fact, you might not even run into those who are on the same floor.”

“I can’t explain what I was thinking at that time, but… I was really happy.”

“I…” Yan Mu raised his eyes to meet Jiang Zhihuo’s. His expression stayed as quiet and composed as ever, but his gaze flickered with deep feeling. With a tone so heartfelt it almost felt weighty, he told Jiang Zhihuo, “I’ve been looking for you for a long time. I… I missed you all this time.”

Yan Mu spoke plainly and with ease. Even when he paused for a moment, it didn’t ruin the atmosphere; everything still felt perfectly in place.

Yan Mu’s ears turned red, and Jiang Zhihuo wasn’t in much better shape. For a second, he didn’t know where to look, then gave a small, flustered nod. “Mhm… okay!”

That reply was a complete mess.

He could usually talk nonsense without stopping in normal moments, but this time he was completely stunned. There was nothing he could do because that one line, “I missed you all this time,” broke through all his resentment, sorrow, and confusion.

He simply couldn’t take it whenever Yan-ge got that serious.

Jiang Zhihuo’s gaze wandered around. Fortunately, Yan Mu had prepared an outline. He had made fun of it earlier, but now it was actually useful. Following the list, Jiang Zhihuo asked the next question. “Why didn’t you say anything all this time?”

“Didn’t dare to,” Yan Mu admitted quietly. “Xiao Zhou, I’m not really the same person I was back then…”

Maybe he was still in a daze, or maybe this issue had always been buried deep in Jiang Zhihuo’s heart like a thorn. Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “I’ve changed a lot too.”

Right after he said it, Jiang Zhihuo knew he shouldn’t have said it. He’d ended up taking the conversation somewhere else entirely.

Sure enough, Yan Mu asked him, “Why were you investigating Fu Xiuwang?”

“Huh? I thought I was the one doing the asking?” Jiang Zhihuo tried to brush it off by throwing the question back.

Yan Mu stared straight at him, his eyes calm but unwavering.

It wasn’t something that could be explained in just a few words, and since they’d recently returned from the clubhouse, anything left unsaid had to remain that way for now. But Yan Mu clearly wasn’t letting it go, so Jiang Zhihuo had to reply, “It’s over now. That was the last time.”

Yan Mu furrowed his brow slightly and looked down. The medicine on Jiang Zhihuo’s waist still needed to be changed every six hours.

Jiang Zhihuo added, “It was an accident this time. Things were never this risky before, I swear. I never even got hurt. We’re living in a lawful society now!”

Whether it was true or not, Yan Mu had no way to tell. Since Jiang Zhihuo said it, he had no choice but to believe him.

“Okay.”

The conversation had derailed, and it was difficult to get it back on track. Neither of them spoke for a while, sitting quietly until Jiang Zhihuo’s phone started ringing. When he saw it was Li Muhe calling, he stood up and went out to the balcony to answer.

It wasn’t a big deal. After sneaking out of the hospital, he already told Li Muhe he was at Yan Mu’s place and asked him not to worry. Now that Li Muhe had reached the lab, he was calling to check on Jiang Zhihuo and find out what really happened, since Yan Mu hadn’t looked too good when he left the hospital.

“There’s nothing wrong on my end,” Jiang Zhihuo said. “Li-ge, stop worrying about us. Just concentrate on the lab work. If you make a mistake because you’re distracted and need to redo everything, I’ll honestly feel terrible.”

It might have sounded like he was being vague, but in reality, their talk hadn’t ended. And anyway, there wasn’t much he could explain to Li-ge.

Li Muhe reminded Jiang Zhihuo to take care of his injury, avoid getting it wet, and remember to apply the medicine. Just as he finished speaking, someone from the team behind him called him over. He had hurriedly left earlier and handed the data to another teammate to monitor. At first, everything was still under control, but the numbers suddenly spiked, and even a small distraction could lead to mistakes.

“I’m coming,” Li Muhe replied. Then he said to Jiang Zhihuo, “If something’s wrong, you need to tell me. I’m your big brother, Xiao Huo.”

Jiang Zhihuo smiled. Li-ge‘s voice had a gentle warmth, and his words conveyed the same. With a big brother supporting him, he felt like he could hold his head a little higher.

“Alright, I got it. Don’t worry, Li-ge,” Jiang Zhihuo responded with a smile.

He set down the phone and headed back to the living room, yawning on the way. After everything that happened last night, he was finally able to get some sleep. Even though he’d had a quick nap at the hospital, his body still felt when it was supposed to be tired.

“Should we keep talking?” Yan Mu asked.

“Of course we have to finish, or else how am I supposed to sleep tonight?”

Jiang Zhihuo didn’t go back to the table. Instead, he curled up on the nearby sofa. It was soft, and lying there like that felt comfortable. “Let me ask you something.”

“Mhm.” Yan Mu turned slightly to look at him.

“You said you’re chasing after me, right?”

“Mhm.”

“So, did you fall for me first, or recognize me first? Qin, ge?”

That question was meant to cause trouble. His tone was anything but serious. He looked nosy and playful, with one eyebrow raised.

To Jiang Zhihuo, the answer made little difference. There was no need to overthink it. Whether it started with liking or recognizing, it was always going to be him in the end. Why make things complicated for himself over that?

However, Jiang Zhihuo enjoyed teasing Yan Mu. Seeing Yan-ge react always made it feel worthwhile.

Maybe even the heavens couldn’t handle that awkward attempt at teasing him. After he spoke, a sudden pain struck Jiang Zhihuo in the lower abdomen. He instinctively clutched at it, and Yan Mu immediately noticed. He stood up, walked over, crouched down, and gently placed both hands on Jiang Zhihuo’s shoulders.

It almost felt like being wrapped in someone’s embrace, with Yan Mu’s arms softly resting against him. His body carried a fresh scent, reminiscent of rain. Jiang Zhihuo’s stomach pain significantly lessened, and Yan Mu remained still, not moving at all. 

“I’m not sure.”

The voice came from somewhere above, quiet but firm. “What I’m about to say is pretty embarrassing. I’m making myself say it, so please listen for a bit.”

Jiang Zhihuo looked up, met Yan Mu’s eyes, and gave a soft smile. “Go ahead.”

Yan Mu gently placed his hand over Jiang Zhihuo’s eyes. It was honestly a little embarrassing. He was worried that if he kept looking into those eyes, he might not be able to say anything, and his ears would probably turn red.

“I’ve never really understood myself. Back then, I tried to sort out what I was thinking, but nothing ever made much sense.”

“At first, I didn’t want you to leave. But after that, I kept wanting to see you. It was the first time I’d ever felt that way, and I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“Xiao Zhou is you too. After you left, I spent years trying to find you. That feeling of missing you had been there since I was a child, and over time, I got used to it.”

“I kept seeing bits of Xiao Zhou in everyone I came across. When the longing got too intense, I’d hold onto even the smallest, passing resemblance like it was something real.”

That longing gradually turned into an obsession, and obsessions always lead to mistakes. That was why he had once pursued Bai Yujun.

Yan Mu didn’t say anything to defend himself. A mistake remains a mistake, even if the one affected has already forgiven him.

“I made a mistake before, so I didn’t want to cause you more pain. I struggled with it for a while because I hoped we could leave all the bad stuff behind, get to know each other again, and in the end, figure out what I truly wanted.”

“Heaven must’ve been good to me. I fell in love a second time, and it was still you.”

Jiang Zhihuo couldn’t see anything. He only heard a low, steady voice coming from above, reaching his ears. He peeked through his fingers at Yan Mu, who was right in front of him, feeling the warmth of his palm.

Yan Mu said, “You’re very important.”

Yan Mu said, “Don’t leave again.”

Yan Mu said, “If you leave again, I’ll completely lose my mind.”

Yan Mu also said, “I’m sorry for making you mad.”

Once he finished talking, he dropped his gaze.

With Jiang Zhihuo’s eyes hidden beneath his hand, Yan Mu finally had the chance to get a close look at the boy in front of him. He observed the straight line of his nose and the pale lips that were gently pressed together. When Jiang Zhihuo blinked, his lashes softly brushed against Yan Mu’s palm.

“Xiao Zhou.” Yan Mu lowered his head and gently pressed his forehead against Jiang Zhihuo’s hair, his voice soft and full of affection. “Can you stop being mad? Don’t be mad anymore, I’ll do whatever you want.”

Jiang Zhihuo brought Yan Mu’s hand down, placed it against his cheek, and gently leaned into it.

Whenever Yan-ge spoke softly, he became unbelievably gentle. Jiang Zhihuo couldn’t handle it or resist. His pulse, heartbeat, and even his thoughts all screamed in his mind like crazy: Heaven hasn’t treated you unfairly, Jiang Zhihuo!!!!!!!

Qin-ge hadn’t forgotten him!

Qin-ge did remember him!

Qin-ge said he liked him!

But he couldn’t let it show, not right now. Like he said before, the timing wasn’t right.

Jiang Zhihuo held back his emotions. His heart was pounding, but his face stayed calm. “Is that an apology for not telling me everything… or for what happened the other night?”

On Christmas Eve, Yan Mu held Jiang Zhihuo back with his hand and wouldn’t let Li Muhe in. At that moment, Jiang Zhihuo got mad at him and told him to leave.

There was no excuse for it. Yan Mu had been completely in the wrong. It all stemmed from a selfish need to cling to something, without considering how the other person felt. This wasn’t something anyone could forgive without being jolted awake by reality. 

“It was my fault, I’m thinking…”

“Thinking what?”

“How can I help you calm down a little?” Yan Mu’s voice was unsteady; he was nervous.

Jiang Zhihuo offered him a cheeky smile, his eyes twinkling with mischief. It was obvious he had already come up with something.

“Simple. The crematorium, of course.”

Jiang Zhihuo sat up on the sofa, crossed his legs, and rested both hands on his knees. “Wrong is still wrong. If saying sorry could actually fix everything, then people wouldn’t come up with tricks like durian, the remote, or keyboard apologies. But if kneeling one by one really made things right, then there wouldn’t even be a need to apologize. Don’t you agree, Yan-ge?”

Chasing wife through the crematorium? It’s pretty much a popular internet meme now.

If a single apology couldn’t make up for it, then he’d offer multiple. What truly mattered was whether he meant it.

Yan Mu thought for a moment. “Alright.”

“Great!” Jiang Zhihuo slapped his knee. “Then that’s it for today. I’m heading out.”

Yan Mu froze. “?”

Jiang Zhihuo looked back at him. “?”

Yan Mu: “Where are you going?”

Jiang Zhihuo: “Isn’t this supposed to be the ‘crematorium’ part? So I’ve got to reject the apology, throw a cold look, and walk off first, right? We’ll talk tomorrow?”

As he spoke, Jiang Zhihuo stood up and rushed toward the door. Yan Mu paused for a moment before quickly reaching out to grab his wrist.

“You can’t leave.”

Jiang Zhihuo: “Why not?”

This vest didn’t go to waste. He was able to say something that was embarrassing earlier. His skin’s already thick now.

“We’re not done talking.”

As the top student, Yan Mu always explained things clearly and logically. With a straight face, he said, “There are two types of crematorium scenarios.”

“The first type is when someone liked the other person, but after getting hurt, they stopped. Then the other one tries to win them back.”

“The second type happens between people who are already together, like a couple or partners. One of them messes up, they break up, and the one who was wrong figures out how they really feel, owns up to it, and begins trying to make things right.”

“Xiao Zhou, which type do you think we are?”

The author has something to say:

Jiang Zhihuo: Heh. Yan-ge, you’ve really done your research, ah?

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  [T/N: This line is poetic. It suggests that the sound carried deep emotion or memory that spanned a long stretch of time.]