Xiang Xi had been a bit dazed all night. Even after burying himself in more than half a bowl of noodles, his mind still hadn’t fully recovered. When he suddenly heard Cheng Boyan’s words, he didn’t react for a long time, just stared at him.

“What?” he asked.

“I said, you take the photos for me,” Cheng Boyan repeated, “I’ll pay you.”

“You want to take photos of me?” Xiang Xi was stunned.

Cheng Boyan sighed, paused for a moment, and then said, “I’ll give you a camera. You can take whatever you want — what you see, what you want to express, what you want others to see of yourself, your life — anything.”

Xiang Xi was silent and lowered his head to eat two more bites of noodles.

“Wouldn’t that be like Fang Yin?” he asked in a muffled voice.

“He takes the story he wants to tell; in his situation, you are, in a way, his actor,” Cheng Boyan smiled. “You take your own story, you’re your own director. There’s still a difference.”

“You’re just giving me that fifty bucks, right?” Xiang Xi glanced at him. “Afraid I wouldn’t take it, so you needed an excuse.”

Cheng Boyan laughed, staring at him for a while: “Yes, but that’s only one reason.”

“What other reasons are there?” Xiang Xi asked.

“I want to see what you see of yourself, and… I think you’re a sensitive person, and you have ideas. Maybe the photos…” Cheng Boyan looked at him. “Of course, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to. Just a suggestion.”

“Maybe I could be a photographer?” Xiang Xi smiled, thinking for a moment. “If that’s really the case, I wouldn’t shoot some thirty-day thing. I’d do a feature called… ‘Seeing the Light’! Capture everything — sunlight, moonlight, lamplight, firelight, fireflies, reflections in glass, ripples in water, light on leaves, light in eyes — basically, light and brightness everywhere…”

Xiang Xi rattled off this list, then lowered his head and finished the noodles in the bowl. He shook the bowl under the light: “Even the light in the empty bowl.”

Cheng Boyan watched him for a long while without speaking.

Xiang Xi had been speaking with gusto, excited, but after being watched like that, he suddenly felt a little embarrassed and self-conscious: “I was just talking casually.”

“Do it,” Cheng Boyan said, “just take these photos.”

“Huh?” Xiang Xi paused mid-air with his chopsticks poised to grab a dumpling.

“Seeing the light, take the photos if you want. It won’t take much time — whenever you have the chance,” Cheng Boyan said, pushing the half-steamed basket of xiaolongbao in front of him. “I think it’s meaningful. Giving people hope is always better than exposing darkness.”

“You mean it?” Xiang Xi seemed to finally understand.

“Yes,” Cheng Boyan nodded.

After eating, Xiang Xi quickly took out money to pay the shop owner before Cheng Boyan could, then added, “This isn’t the meal I was treating you to, so this doesn’t count.”

“Mm.” Cheng Boyan stood up.

They walked out of the Sha County restaurant. After just a few steps, Xiang Xi’s stomach finally reacted to the food.

He seemed to have eaten too much.

He calculated in his mind: counting the steamed dumplings he’d packed, he’d eaten two baskets of dumplings, one bowl of mixed noodles, one cup of soup, and the half basket of xiaolongbao Cheng Boyan had pushed toward him…

“Ah…” he pressed his hand to his stomach and sighed lightly.

“Are you full?” Cheng Boyan asked.

“Stuffed.” He rubbed his nose.

“Let’s go back and rest,” Cheng Boyan said, checking his phone for the time. “I’ll go back too.”

“You should head back quickly. It’s late for a trip like this,” Xiang Xi said. Though Cheng Boyan’s home wasn’t far, Xiang Xi suddenly remembered why Cheng Boyan had come, and his steps became unsteady. He turned and bolted toward the “thief’s nest,” shouting, “I’m home! Good night!”

“Good night,” Cheng Boyan called from behind him.

He watched Xiang Xi disappear at the end of the road, then turned and walked toward his car.

Once in the car, he sat for a while, took a box of milk from the back seat, drank it slowly, and then started the engine to drive back.

At first, he thought Xiang Xi had been hungry, eating so furiously and finishing even his half basket of buns. Now he realized…

He must have been scared.

Cheng Boyan smiled — today had indeed been a bit frightening.

When he got home, it was still a while before bedtime. He planned to take a shower first and then read for a bit.

As he tossed Xiang Xi’s unworn pants, which had been left on the sofa, into the laundry basket, the image of Xiang Xi sitting on the chair hugging his legs flashed before his eyes.

He clicked his tongue. “Cheng Boyan, you really can’t hold back, huh.”

After stepping into the bathroom and stripping off all his clothes, he let the slightly warm water from the shower slide over his body. Only then did he close his eyes, lean against the wall, and let out a long, deep breath.

Xiang Xi had startled him earlier, but the way he’d been startled… Cheng Boyan opened his eyes, watching the dense droplets falling in front of him.

He felt that tonight he probably wouldn’t sleep soundly.

The water slid continuously over his body, carving winding, entwined trails, delicately and densely wrapping every inch of skin.

Cheng Boyan normally didn’t focus so intently when showering, rarely taking time to fully experience such sensations that made one’s mind wander, but tonight he felt them especially deeply.

It was because of Xiang Xi.

And because of the impulsive excitement that had suddenly arisen in him.

Cheng Boyan sighed, resting his forehead against the wall, and his hand slid down.

*

When he came out of the bathroom, his phone was cheerfully ringing on the table. Cheng Boyan glanced at it — it was Lin He.

He didn’t rush. He slowly wiped the water from his hair, put the towel away, and then answered the call.

“What are you doing not picking up the phone?” Lin He asked immediately.

“Showering,” Cheng Boyan said, sitting down on the sofa and leaning back.

“Showering or playing in the water? I’ve called four times already. Showering should be done in twenty minutes; that’s nearly a whole class period!” Lin He exclaimed.

“Hey, don’t say it like that. You always know exactly how long I shower,” Cheng Boyan laughed. “If Song Yi heard this, it would be really inappropriate.”

“Get lost,” Lin He laughed. “Seriously, what are you doing?”

“A single man, alone in his bathroom at night for a long while,” Cheng Boyan picked up a book from the coffee table and flipped it casually. “What else do you think I could be doing?”

“Oh,” Lin He laughed, “am I disturbing your recreational activities?”

“No disturbance, I just didn’t hear the phone ring,” Cheng Boyan smiled.

“So interested tonight, huh?” Lin He said.

“Hmm, tonight…” Cheng Boyan thought for a moment and then switched topics. “What did you want?”

“Enough talking,” Lin He clicked his tongue. “Why are you in such high spirits today?”

“Nothing much. Just felt my wrist was tight, so I moved it around,” Cheng Boyan said.

“…Come on, there must be something going on. How long has it been since you’ve done that?” Lin He laughed.

“Don’t talk nonsense. That phrase belongs to you and Song Yi. Don’t throw it at me casually,” Cheng Boyan put his legs on the coffee table.

“You didn’t…” Lin He hesitated. “Something with that kid, right?”

“I’ll bring you a banner tomorrow — gossip master,” Cheng Boyan laughed. Emotionally, he was basically in a state of blank emotion, while Lin He was more anxious, noticing even the slightest wind or grass movement. “It’s not that there’s something going on, it’s that something happened.”

“Something happened?” Lin He froze. “Did you play the rogue?”

“Am I that kind of person?” Cheng Boyan laughed, paused, then sighed. “Well… almost.”

He briefly told Lin He about the previous events. Lin He was stunned for a long moment: “He must have been scared off. Boyan, what were you thinking? Had you been drinking?”

“Don’t know,” Cheng Boyan pinched his brow. “I just couldn’t hold back.”

“And him?” Lin He asked.

“Still dazed, hasn’t recovered,” Cheng Boyan said. “Maybe he won’t talk to me tomorrow… What did you want?”

“You probably haven’t even figured out if he’s okay. This isn’t your style. How much do you like him? Didn’t even probe a little before jumping in!” Lin He was surprised.

“What did you want from me again?” Cheng Boyan repeated.

“Alright, alright, enough… My mom’s knees have been hurting for nearly a month. She says they creak when bending. Should I have her come see you tomorrow?” Lin He said.

“Come at noon, fewer people then,” Cheng Boyan thought. “No bumps or sprains?”

“She says no,” Lin He answered.

“Then I’ll see when she comes,” Cheng Boyan said. “By the way, do you have a camera? The one you bought two years ago to show off but never used?”

“What kind of description is that… Why do you need it?” Lin He laughed.

“If you’re not using it, let Song Yi give it to Xiang Xi. He can use it,” Cheng Boyan said, smiling.

“You…” Lin He wanted to say more, but thought better of it. “Fine.”

Xiang Xi had stayed inside for two days without going out. He ordered take out and ate at home, even tidied up, dusted, and swept the floor.

Next door, Liu Yuanping was home alone and came to drag him out for a meal. They chatted idly, and Xiang Xi heard a lot about school life.

He felt envious.

A real university, actual college students.

For someone who hadn’t even been a primary school student, hearing about college felt like listening to a story.

After being envious, he returned to his small room and stared blankly.

In theory, he had said he wanted to treat Cheng Boyan to a meal, and Cheng Boyan had said he would call when free. But after saying goodnight that day, Cheng Boyan didn’t contact him again — no calls, no messages.

Xiang Xi couldn’t describe his feelings — unease, fear, anticipation, all mixed.

However, he thought it normal that Cheng Boyan didn’t contact him. That day, after meeting him, his body felt like it had hundreds of needles in it. Anyone would feel too embarrassed to reach out.

He himself had been so embarrassed that his steps almost went crooked.

In fact, he pondered the situation all night after returning, barely slept, and kept wondering why Cheng Boyan acted as he did.

But he never figured it out.

Even on Monday, when he was supposed to return to work at the supermarket, he still hadn’t received a call.

Was he disappointed or relieved?

Waiting?

Yes. Xiang Xi packed the notebook—the one he used while accompanying his dad… no his ‘mom’ to the supermarket—into his bag and left the room. was waiting for a call.

(NT: I am not 100% sure of the translation for this sentence, I guess his confused mind is refering to CB?)

If he felt relieved, it was probably because of lingering embarrassment. He really liked being with Cheng Boyan — liked listening to him, joking around, and even didn’t mind being kissed unexpectedly, just embarrassed.

If he felt disappointed… it was true disappointment.

Even with embarrassment, he still wanted to receive Cheng Boyan’s call, just like that night when Cheng Boyan suddenly said he was at the intersection.

Cheng Boyan was different from everyone else to him.

For so long, Cheng Boyan’s hand had always been there for him. Without Cheng Boyan, he didn’t dare imagine how far he could have walked on his own.

Maybe he’d still be lying in that ditch full of mud and rotten grass…

The fake blind man had once talked to him about the “bottom line.”

"I’m a person with a bottom line," the fake blind man pushed up his sunglasses. "There are some things I absolutely wouldn’t do, and that’s my bottom line."

This made Xiang Xi laugh for a long time. A fake blind man who tricked, cheated, and stole girlfriends from women, yet could speak so seriously about a “bottom line.”

"Your so-called bottom line is bullshit. The things you won’t do aren’t because you can’t, it’s because you don’t dare," Xiang Xi said, laughing while speaking. "Your bottom line is your courage. The bigger your courage, the lower your bottom line."

The fake blind man had been secretly resentful for a long time about Xiang Xi seeing through him directly. Back then, he kept bumping into him while walking and had even tapped him several times with a stick, claiming he couldn’t see.

Bottom lines and principles — Xiang Xi had always felt these had nothing to do with him, yet he had seriously thought about what his own bottom line was.

Where was his limit?

There certainly was one.

But it was rather elusive, hard to define.

For example, when Uncle Ping asked him to stage an accident to extort money, he had a bottom line.

When Fang Yin asked him to take photos, he refused at first, but agreed when money was mentioned — the bottom line disappeared.

For example, when Tan Xiaokang touched him, he had a bottom line.

When Cheng Boyan kissed him, his… bottom line seemed to disappear again.

As long as Cheng Boyan didn’t leave and stayed by his side, it seemed nothing else mattered.

Today, he arrived at the supermarket early. Apart from team leader Zhang Xin, the other colleagues hadn’t arrived yet.

He had intentionally come early. He went into the locker room, found the uniform he had neatly marked with a line, took out a pen, and inhaled deeply.

He wanted to write his name on the collar.

But he was worried that if it took too much effort, others might see it.

When the pen touched the collar, he felt nervous, holding his breath to prevent shaking.

Xiang Xi.

After finishing, he held the shirt up to look at it and smiled. Not bad! The writing was neat, not too large, and didn’t look like a chaotic scribble.

In a good mood, he placed the shirt on the table and drew a frame around the name, making it look even cooler.

After admiring it for a while, he changed into the shirt and walked out of the locker room.

"Xiang Xi," Song Yi called from the office, poking his head out, "come here."

"Oh," Xiang Xi ran into the office. "Song Ge… thank you for letting me take so much leave."

"No problem, sick leave is always approved. Health comes first," Song Yi smiled and handed him a small black bag from the table. "Here."

"What… thing?" Xiang Xi didn’t dare take it.

"A camera," Song Yi glanced at him. "Bought it but never used more than twice at home. Boyan said you’d use it, so I’m giving it to you."

"Ah?" Xiang Xi froze.

"Take it first. It’s quite heavy," Song Yi said.

"Oh," Xiang Xi quickly took the camera bag. "I thought he meant his own camera."

"He doesn’t play with these. Just a point-and-shoot, full of pictures of broken legs and bones — someone who didn’t know might think he’s a psycho killer," Song Yi laughed. "This one’s good. Stand on a street stall with it, people will definitely come at you, thinking you’re on a secret investigation."

"Thank you, Song Ge," Xiang Xi hugged the bag, laughing. "I… will be careful not to break it."

"Even if you break it, it’s fine. Just deduct it from your salary," Song Yi waved. "Go do your work."

Xiang Xi locked the camera in his locker. Actually, what he wanted to say wasn’t that he would be careful; he wanted to say, I don’t even know how to use this thing.

Even though he had a valuable item he didn’t know how to use and had to be extra careful with, his mood instantly lifted.

This was from Cheng Boyan, brought by Song Yi.

After more than a week without work, today he was energetic. Wearing his cool uniform with the framed name he wrote himself, even when a neighbourhood resident — a strict, nitpicking senior mom — complained about the prices and quality of goods, he didn’t feel annoyed.

"Xiang Xi," Zhang Xin called. "When it’s not busy, you can sit at the cashier. Your leg isn’t fully healed, right?"

"It’s fine," Xiang Xi shook his leg. "See?"

"Come over," Zhang Xin smiled. "There’s time now. I’ll teach you how to use the cash register."

"Okay." Xiang Xi nodded, following Zhang Xin to the register.

He had been too afraid to get close to the machine before, but after going through this supermarket routine with his dad...no, his ‘mother’, he was confident.

Zhang Xin didn’t give formal instructions, just let him watch while she worked and explained: how to scan, give change, check inventory.

Xiang Xi focused on her hands. The keyboard had letters, but he couldn’t recognize them at first. He just watched where Zhang Xin pressed.

After several times, Zhang Xin let him try. He followed from memory and didn’t make a mistake.

"Got it?" Zhang Xin patted his shoulder. "It’s not hard. When it gets busy, you can help with cash."

"Okay." Xiang Xi nodded, staring at the keyboard and screen a few more times.

Although he was motivated, his leg wasn’t fully healed. After lying still for over a week, by late afternoon he felt his leg ache.

While the store was quiet, he sat next to the cash register.

A few minutes later, a small truck stopped at the door. Yu Baoquan ran out, tossing him a notebook: "Xiang Xi, help me record this."

"What?" Xiang Xi was dumbfounded. He quickly stood. "You do it, I’ll go move the goods."

"Your leg isn’t healed? Sit down," Yu Baoquan said, then started helping unload.

Xiang Xi had nothing more to say, so he gritted his teeth, opened the notebook, and began counting the goods being moved while quickly glancing at how the previous page had been recorded.

Luckily, this stock register wasn’t complicated: time, item name, quantity, and a name.

Xiang Xi twirled the pen several times before putting it on paper, writing today’s date carefully, stroke by stroke.

Today’s goods weren’t many: cola, potato chips, mung bean cakes, and shredded beef.

He looked at the boxes still at the door. For some items he didn’t know how to write the characters from memory, but once he saw them, he could recognize them and copied them down.

The potato chips had been grabbed too fast; he couldn’t see the characters clearly, and they were complicated, so he had to run to the shelf, find a tube, and copy it.

After moving all the items, Qi Baoquan checked the numbers with him again — no mistakes. Then Xiang Xi bent over, carefully writing his own name, stroke by stroke.

When he reached the character “Xi” (西), his hand was already sore. As he wrote, he straightened his body a little and peeked out the door.

A car was slowly pulling into a parking spot at the store entrance. His hand trembled slightly while writing the horizontal stroke, and one stroke nearly went off the page.

He didn’t even need to look at the license plate to recognize that it was Cheng Boyan’s car.

Xiang Xi quickly lowered his head. After finishing the character, he handed the notebook to Qi Baoquan, then glanced toward the door again. He froze — Cheng Boyan had already gotten out of the car and walked into the store.

He stood frozen next to the register, unsure whether he should greet him or pretend not to know him.

"Almost time to get off work, right?" Cheng Boyan walked up to him and asked.

"Ah," Xiang Xi replied, "yes."

"Let’s have dinner later, I’m free today," Cheng Boyan smiled, walked to a nearby shelf, and placed a carton of milk on the register. "You take care of the register?"

No one was at the register; Zhang Xin had gone to the restroom, and Qi Baoquan had just gone to the back storeroom.

"I’ll do it," Xiang Xi quickly went behind the counter.

Scanning, quoting the price, taking the money Cheng Boyan handed over, and giving him change — Xiang Xi suddenly felt a little proud.

When handing the money and receipt to Cheng Boyan, he couldn’t help but whisper, "How’s that? Pretty authentic, right?"

Cheng Boyan smiled and nodded: "It already is authentic."

Xiang Xi chuckled softly.

"I’ll wait in the car," Cheng Boyan said, picking up the milk and going out.

After work, Xiang Xi changed clothes, ran out, and opened the car door. Cheng Boyan was sitting inside, drinking the milk.

"Why did you come here? Didn’t you say you’d call me?" he asked, happy yet a little awkward as he got in.

"You’re at work, I didn’t want to bother you," Cheng Boyan smiled. "The past couple of days were too busy — shifts, too many patients — so I didn’t contact you."

"It’s fine," Xiang Xi smiled and scratched his head, then took out the camera bag. "Oh, Song Yi gave me a camera, he said you asked him to?"

"Yes, borrowed it for you. This one’s quite advanced, learn to use it," Cheng Boyan said. "Just take some casual shots to get familiar with it."

"I don’t even understand the letters on it — all alphabetic! How do I learn this?" Xiang Xi frowned. "I only just dared to write my own name today."

"You wrote it on your clothes?" Cheng Boyan asked.

"Yes, I feel pretty good about it," Xiang Xi snapped his fingers.

"Show me, I haven’t seen it," Cheng Boyan reached out his hand. "How did you write it?"

Xiang Xi looked at Cheng Boyan’s hand and suddenly felt nervous. After a long pause, he took the pen from his bag, positioned it carefully, and finally grabbed Cheng Boyan’s hand.

The instant their skin touched, all the memories of that night — every contact with Cheng Boyan — flooded back: he held Cheng Boyan, Cheng Boyan’s hand pressed against his eyes, touching the tear mole, tracing his lips…

The last image made him dizzy, and he quickly lowered his head to write on Cheng Boyan’s palm.

It took him a long time to finish the name. He quickly let go of Cheng Boyan’s hand.

"You wrote that very well," Cheng Boyan looked and smiled.

"Right?!" Xiang Xi immediately turned his head when praised. "I think it’s pretty good too, much better than before. I even added a frame as decoration..."

"Added a frame?" Cheng Boyan was momentarily stunned. "Added what frame?"

"A frame around the name, looks really cool," Xiang Xi said, reaching for his hand to start drawing. "I’ll show you..."

"Wait," Cheng Boyan pressed his hand down. "A square frame?"

"Yes," Xiang Xi looked at him.

Cheng Boyan opened his mouth but said nothing for a long moment. Finally, he turned off the car engine: "Go get your shirt."

"What’s wrong?" Xiang Xi didn’t understand.

"A frame around the name means..." Cheng Boyan cleared his throat, "it indicates a deceased person."

"…What?!" Xiang Xi froze, then shouted, "What the hell?!"

Before Cheng Boyan could say anything, he jumped out of the car and ran back into the store.

Cheng Boyan felt a little helpless, but also amused. Xiang Xi returned with the shirt, holding the collar up at him: "Is this it?! Is this it?!"

Cheng Boyan glanced at it and laughed: "Yes. What were you thinking?"

"I really messed up!" Xiang Xi glared at the name on the collar. "What do I do now?!"

"I’ll fix it," Cheng Boyan said, taking the disinfectant from the car and pressing it against Xiang Xi’s face. "If you keep messing up, I’ll let you see whether this stuff is sweet or salty."

Xiang Xi fell silent, side-eyeing the disinfectant still pressed to his face. "It’s lemon-flavored, right?"

Cheng Boyan glanced at him, put the bottle back, and took his shirt, touching the name: "Still a permanent marker, huh..."

"Can it be removed?" Xiang Xi was frustrated. "I… really am too uneducated for this."

"This won’t wash off," Cheng Boyan rubbed the collar, clicking his tongue. "You haven’t washed this shirt before, have you?"

"Ah!" Xiang Xi shouted. "Can you control your obsession with cleanliness! Are we talking about washing the shirt now?! What about the name?!"

"Don’t shout," Cheng Boyan laughed for a long time. "I’ll help you while I still can, then I need to go check the hearing tests." He folded the shirt and placed it aside. "I can definitely fix it."

"Really?" Xiang Xi looked at him.

"Yes." Cheng Boyan smiled, nodded, and started the car.

Xiang Xi leaned against the seat in silence, suddenly feeling very at ease.

Not because Cheng Boyan said he could remove the framed name, but because whenever Xiang Xi was frustrated or uneasy, Cheng Boyan always had a calm smile.

 

Translator : DarNan