Chapter 117: Turning Point

Ding-dong.

“Welcome to FamilyMart.”

Ye Si hurried into the convenience store, the automatic doors closing behind him to block out the biting cold of the midnight air.

The store had just been restocked, and the refrigerated display was packed. He grabbed a box of Sweet and Sour Spare Ribs with Rice. As he turned his head, the digital calendar flickered—switching from Jan-20 to Jan-21.

Midnight. It was New Year’s Eve.

In less than 24 hours, it would be the Lunar New Year.

He opened the bento and slid it into the microwave, let out a long sigh, and pulled out his phone.

Beep—

Beep—

Beep—

“Pick up.

“Pick up the damn phone.

“Pick up! Pick up the damn phone for me!”

The young girl at the register peeked secretly at the tall, handsome boy. He had run over from the hospital across the street wearing only a sweater. He brought a gust of cold air in with him, yet he wasn’t at all annoying. Even his frantic muttering at his phone wasn’t annoying.

“Damn it, sleeping at only twelve?

“And he calls himself a trader? Sleeping on investors’ money while dreaming of—”

“Hello?”

Ye Si’s tongue pulled an emergency brake. “Hello! Why did it take so long to pick up! —Wait, why is your voice so raspy?”

Zhong Chen exhaled heavily, leaning back into his chair. “Just finished an all-nighter for work.”

“It’s only twelve, what do you mean all-nigh—wait!” Ye Si frowned. “You’ve been up since yesterday?”

Zhong Chen’s reaction was slow. After a pause, he gave a muffled “Mm.”

“It’s New Year’s Eve, man!” A flare of anger hit Ye Si. “Do you have any idea how many cases of fulminant myocarditis and myocardial infarction in young people are skyrocketing every year?”

Zhong Chen gave another “Mm,” letting the other side curse and nag while he let out a tired yawn. He had heard Ye Si’s “Post-All-Nighter Emergency Measures” a thousand times; he could recite them by heart.

He had just finished work and was going to call Jian Zixing to grab a late-night snack downstairs, only to find Xing-Xing asleep. He was feeling a bit empty when this noisy thing delivered itself to his door.

Zhong Chen waited for his brain to start functioning again before saying lazily, “Intern Doctor Ye, care to guess which of us will drop dead first?”

“You… I’m not wasting my breath on an ungrateful wolf like you.” Ye Si was fuming. “Go the hell to sleep. When you wake up, bring some food to He Xiu. By the way, aren’t you guys going home? How are you spending New Year’s Eve?”

He Xiu had caught a chill the night of the New Year’s concert and had been hovering on the edge of a cold for over a week before finally coming down with a fever.

Ye Si happened to be on break then, so he stayed home to accompany the patient. Since they were both housebound, He Xiu had bought a goose-yellow oven—it looked incredibly cozy—and promised to bake something sweet for him.

The plan was perfect until Ye Si’s hospital supervisor suddenly had to go to S-City for an emergency cardiac surgery and asked Ye Si to come along for clinical observation.

The surgery was originally scheduled for the morning of the 20th. He had booked a flight to return to B-City that night so he could spend New Year’s Eve with He Xiu, but the patient’s blood pressure didn’t meet the requirements in the morning, so it was delayed by a day.

When he cancelled the ticket, He Xiu’s nasal voice comforted him over the phone: “Then we’ll do a video call for the countdown. I’ll wrap extra dumplings and boil them for you when you fly back on the first day of the New Year.”

Look at that. What a lovely boyfriend. Not a single complaint, and despite just having his fever break, he was already planning to wrap dumplings. They were supposed to wait for Ye Si to go home and wrap them for He Xiu.

Zhong Chen idly poked at the robot Xiao Xie. “Douzi and the others have already gone back to H-City. Xing-Xing and I aren’t going back this year; we’re too busy. We’ll just wrap dumplings and watch a movie for New Year’s Eve.”

Damn it. Look at that. Some people can go home together, others can wrap dumplings together.

The jealousy was real.

“When you finish the dumplings, bring some over to He Xiu. Just spend it together,” Ye Si said begrudgingly. “What filling?”

“Crab roe.” Zhong Chen tried to cover Xiao Xie’s ears, but after searching for a while, he realized Jian Zixing hadn’t designed ears for the robot, so he settled for covering its eyes. “What filling does He Xiu eat?”

“Beef. Add some broth and celery bits when mixing; it makes them juicy and crunchy. Oh, and buy some oranges. He hasn’t fully recovered from the cold.”

Zhong Chen chuckled. “That’s your favorite filling, isn’t it? Anything else?”

“Hmm…” Ye Si looked up at the array of desserts in front of him, unable to stop thinking about the videos He Xiu had been bookmarking lately. They shared a Bilibili account, and He Xiu had created a folder titled “Something Sweet for Ye-kachu,” which was filled with baking tutorials.

I am truly the luckiest yet most tragic Pokemon in the world.

Ye Si sighed. “Buy something sweet. White peach cream daifuku, chocolate chiffon, hmm…” His eyes moved to the second row of the shelf. “Pistachio Basque cheesecake, and a box of cheese mochi, hmm…”

“Are you reciting a menu here?” Zhong Chen laughed irritably, jotting them down while cursing. “Anything else?”

Before Ye Si could add more, Jian Zixing’s drowsy voice came through the phone. “Eating that much sugar with a cold? Won’t that coat your throat?” He sounded like he had just woken up.

That dog Zhong Chen immediately softened his voice. “Did I wake you?”

“No.” Jian Zixing yawned. “I figured you’d be done after midnight, so I set an alarm. Going downstairs for fried noodles?”

Damn it. Even more jealous.

Ye Si felt like someone had shoved a giant lemon into his mouth. It was stuck in his throat, and the acidity made his eyes sting.

“Ye Si?” Jian Zixing took the phone. “Can’t you get a ticket for tomorrow… or rather, tonight?”

Ye Si could only sigh reluctantly. “The surgery schedule for New Year’s Eve is full. It’s pushed to the afternoon. I probably won’t be out until midnight.”

“Then focus on the surgery,” Jian Zixing said. “He Xiu will spend the day with us; don’t worry. Once you book the ticket for the first, tell us in the group chat. The three of us will pick you up from the airport. Oh right, which restaurant on Airport Road did you say you were interested in last time?”

Zhong Chen added from the side, “Japanese BBQ. Let me check… hey, they’re open on the first day of the New Year.”

“Then we’ll take you straight to BBQ,” Jian Zixing laughed. “Something to look forward to. Perform well in front of your supervisor.”

“Mm.” Ye Si looked down at the tips of his shoes. “Professor Bulbasaur has a recurring low-grade fever. He’ll probably sleep until noon. Don’t bother him until the afternoon, and make sure he takes his medicine and checks his temperature.”

“Count on us,” Jian Zixing said.

After hanging up, Ye Si rubbed his nose for a long time until the stinging sensation subsided.

Damn, I’m turning into a princess. Feeling wronged over such a small thing. Embarrassing.

He took a deep breath in front of the mirrored surface until his eyes turned calm and determined again—looking like a star intern who would soon be snapped up by a major hospital. He grabbed the small cakes he had listed and dumped them on the counter. “Hello, check out, please.”

He Xiu couldn’t eat too many sweets with a cold, but Ye Si, who was working overtime, could.

Children with bad hearts couldn’t eat too many sweets either, but a person who had been reborn could.

“With the bento, that’s sixty-eight yuan and forty cents.” The cashier smiled sweetly. “Would you like a bag?”

“No need, I’ll carry it.” Ye Si pulled up the hem of his sweater to make a pouch for the food and ran back out.

This was He Xiu’s sweater. Using it to carry a midnight snack felt like he was eating with He Xiu.

Ye Si ran all the way back to the hospital, rushed up to the third-floor duty lounge, and dumped the food on the table while shivering. He pulled out his phone to message his boyfriend.

He wanted to send “I miss you” three times in a row, but on second thought, they had been together for years; there was no need to be that clingy. Plus, Professor Bulbasaur never silenced his phone when Ye Si worked overtime. What if three messages woke him up?

He had to be restrained.

He was almost a graduate; he should be a mature Pokemon who knows his boundaries.

Ye Si’s eyes turned determined again, and he sent only one message.

“Miss you, miss you, miss you. Damn it, I miss you so much I’m about to collapse TAT. Drink an effervescent tablet when you wake up!”

After sending the message, Ye Si poked at the Bulbasaur on his chat wallpaper for a long time before opening his bento.

A resident doctor suddenly pushed the door open. “Let’s go! Do a round with me. There are lots of emergencies today; adding an extra round.”

“Coming!” Ye Si hurriedly shoved three massive mouthfuls of rice into his mouth until his cheeks were bulging, then jogged after him.

Hospital internships were inherently exhausting. Accompanying his supervisor to another city for surgery meant Ye Si had to be at 120% alertness. He wouldn’t allow himself to slack off. When his supervisor rested, he followed the local doctors on their rounds. One round with the attending, two with the residents, five with the head nurse—he followed them all. He made his own copy of every case file the residents had to organize, reporting to the resident first, then his supervisor.

In just two days, he knew the status of all thirty-plus patients in the department by heart. He got along well with the residents, who were willing to mentor him and often invited him along for unscheduled night rounds.

Ye Si swallowed his food while jogging. The sweet and sour sauce from the ribs mixed with the rice was delicious, reminding him of the version his boyfriend made—sprinkled with sesame seeds, double the sugar, smelling so good it made your head spin.

“I see you bought a table full of cakes again. You sure love your sweets,” the resident joked. “We in cardiothoracic surgery eat like beasts, but I’ve never seen anyone crave sugar this much.”

Ye Si snapped back to reality and paused. “Yeah. Didn’t get enough as a kid, so now I can’t stop.”

The resident didn’t say more and pushed open a ward door. Ye Si followed.

The moment he entered, he saw his own reflection in the door glass—a pair of very steady eyes.

In the blink of an eye, it had been nearly five years. He had owned this completely healthy heart for five years.

Ever since the hourglass of his “senior year” was flipped, he had been running hard. As time passed, the track beneath his feet felt more real; every step was a solid piece of time. He had almost forgotten the magic that had happened to him.

He worried when Zhong Chen stayed up late, but when it was his own turn, he didn’t care at all because he knew this heart would never fail.

What would the world be like without that magic?

Or rather, without that magic, would he even have this world?

Ye Si composed himself and pulled out the ward round record to hand to the resident.

There were no “ifs.”

Because what gave him a new life wasn’t magic—it was himself.

By the time he finished organizing the case files, it was 4 AM. Ye Si finished the rest of his food and couldn’t resist bothering his boyfriend one more time before sleeping.

“The sweet and sour ribs here are good; I’ll make them for you when I get back tomorrow. Sleeping for a bit then busy until tonight. Report your temperature when you wake up. No coffee!”

---

At 7 AM, during the attending’s rounds, Ye Si was nudged awake by another doctor. He Xiu wasn’t awake yet; the message list was empty.

Ye Si had to settle for aggressively kissing the screen and starting another day of battle with dark circles under his eyes.

“Not even clinical yet and you’re this driven? Take it easy, kid.” The resident opened a bottle of orange juice for him. Watching him tilt his head back to chug it, he laughed. “Studying medicine is just seeking suffering. As the saying goes, ‘劝人学医，天打雷劈’ (Persuading someone to study medicine is inviting a lightning strike). Any regrets?”

“No regrets.” Ye Si tossed the empty bottle into the trash. “I begged for this.”

The man laughed. “I’m not your supervisor. Tell the truth.”

Ye Si blinked innocently. “I really did. It’s the wish I’ve held for half my life.”

“What wish?”

“To accompany people who want to change their fate in changing their fate.” Ye Si paused and raised an eyebrow. “Cool, right?”

“Cool my ass. You’re a chuunibyou.” The man gave him a nudge but couldn’t help remarking, “Actually, I like people like you who talk about high ideals. Those who complain constantly before they’ve even graduated—it’s exhausting to hear, even if the work is hard.”

Ye Si just smiled. “Complaints are just words. Which of us doesn’t fight for our lives once we hit the clinic?”

“Fair point.” The resident patted his arm. “Buck up. Finish your reports this morning, and this afternoon you’ll watch your supervisor operate. A high-difficulty Tetralogy of Fallot (TOF) correction. I’m not even qualified to be at the table. Your supervisor bringing a fifth-year student to observe shows how much he values you.”

At the mention of the surgery, Ye Si’s heart sank slightly.

The patient was a 9-year-old boy with congenital heart disease—severe TOF. Most with this condition don’t live to see age 10. The boy was already severely hypoxic and could develop infective endocarditis or a cerebrovascular accident at any time. Interventional therapy wasn’t an option; they had to open the chest to correct four types of cardiac malformations. With a projected success rate of 60%, they couldn’t find a department head willing to operate. His supervisor was the leading expert in the country for TOF corrections—the boy’s only choice.

“It’s your first time observing this kind of surgery. Don’t cause a scene and get in the way.”

Ye Si shook his head solemnly. “I won’t.”

He had only met the patient for the first time after flying here. The boy was severely cyanotic from hypoxia and struggled to speak smoothly.

Ye Si had only spoken to him twice.

The first time was to ask how he felt. The boy said, “Please tell my mom I feel better than I look. Tell her not to be afraid.”

The second time was when Ye Si explained the surgical process. After listening for a while, the boy pointed to Ye Si’s intern badge and asked, “Are you a student from P-University? It’s hard to get in, right? I want to go there too.”

Ye Si had laughed and said, “It is hard. You can consider T-University next door; they’re only slightly weaker than us.”

The boy was amused and showed two tiger teeth when he smiled. That innocent smile on his blue-purple, swollen face was heart-wrenching.

Busy until just before the surgery, Ye Si finally found time to check his phone. He Xiu had woken up at noon and replied: “36.8°C. Don’t worry about me. Good luck with the surgery!”

“36.8…” Ye Si muttered and messaged Zhong Chen: “He Xiu is awake. Check his temperature again in two hours.”

The lead surgeon and the assistants hadn’t entered the OR yet. Today was intravenous anesthesia, and the nurse was inserting an indwelling needle.

A thick needle pierced the delicate skin. Ye Si wanted to reach out and shield the boy’s eyes, but stopped halfway. He nodded toward the needle. “Look closely. Twenty-five millimeters in diameter. Remember the details for when you brag to your classmates later.”

The boy showed his tiger teeth again. “Brother, you’re so ‘sunny’ (bright/cheerful).”

Ye Si’s smile was even wider. “You bet. How are you doing?”

“I’m okay.” The boy licked his lips. His facial swelling made his speech a bit slurred. “Brother, have you ever been afraid?”

“Afraid?” Ye Si chuckled. “Yeah. I was in a situation similar to yours.”

A nurse nearby looked up at him.

Ye Si ignored her. “Tell me, how long have you been afraid?”

“A long time.” The smile on the boy’s face finally faded. “Since I was very, very small.”

“How small? You’re not exactly big now.” Ye Si laughed. He glanced at the nurse preparing for oral intubation and said softly, “Me too. I started being afraid since I was very, very small. But I wasn’t as lucky as you. You only have to be afraid until age nine. I had to be afraid until eighteen.”

The boy’s eyes widened in surprise. The anesthesia was beginning to take effect, and his mumbling was very faint. “Then… if I wake up… can I be as ‘sunny’ as you?”

“Funny thing, I used to think that way too. ‘What if it was like this, what if it was like that’.” Ye Si squatted beside him and whispered, “But in this world, there are no ‘ifs.’ There are only ‘turning points’.”

“Turning points?” The boy’s consciousness began to drift, instinctively repeating the word.

“Sleep. When you open your eyes, it’ll be a new year,” Ye Si coaxed. “When you open your eyes, it’ll be a turning point.”

The surgery was fraught with difficulties. Every potential problem in the contingency plan popped up one by one. There was no luck involved.

Ye Si stood in the observation room, watching his supervisor’s hands under the shadowless lamp through the screen. His ears rang from tension several times.

He could see that the three assistants had suffered several mental collapses, staying at the table through pure willpower. Only his supervisor remained as calm as ever, without a single unnecessary expression.

The supervisor was 53 years old—an age for semi-retirement in other industries, but his prime in cardiothoracic surgery.

After seven hours, the ECMO was turned off. Internal circulation restarted. Everyone held their breath.

The blood pressure numbers fluctuated violently before gradually stabilizing. After a long ten-plus seconds, the intercom from the anesthesia room crackled: “It’s good.”

No one spoke. The OR was blanketed in silent, frantic celebration.

The supervisor stepped back from the surgical field. “Suture carefully. Close the chest layer by layer.”

He turned to the glass of the observation room and smiled. “Is Ye Si okay?”

Ye Si hurried out. “I’m fine. Thank you for your hard work.”

“First time, and you didn’t faint. Not bad.” The supervisor held up his hands and used his foot to kick the door pedal. “Watch them close the chest carefully. No starting the surgical report early.”

“Understood.”

Ye Si waited for him to leave, then returned to the observation room, staring meticulously at the suturing on the monitor.

The patient was much smaller than a normal 9-year-old boy. Surrounded by doctors and nurses, he was almost invisible.

The pericardium was sutured. The layer of fat covered that beating red heart.

“The heart of a brave man,” Ye Si whispered. “You have one now too.”

“What are you muttering?” a nurse joked. “Your first observation and it’s a Grade 4 open-chest surgery. Afraid?”

Ye Si shook his head. “No.”

Cardiothoracic surgeries are considered peak cruelty. Seniors often can’t handle their first observation, but he didn’t flinch.

He seemed more capable than anyone of staring directly at the process of dissecting the human body and exposing the heart.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Ye Si said. “Soon, I’ll be the one holding that scalpel.”

The nurse laughed. “That’ll take over twenty years. To be the lead surgeon in heart surgery, you have to be at least in your forties.”

Ye Si pursed his lips. “I’m not in a hurry. One step at a time.”

He only needed to give his all. He couldn’t be impatient.

The surgery was completely over. Ye Si assisted in counting the gauze and instruments and filled out the SICU handover form. It was almost 11 PM when he came out.

According to the original plan, he was going to rush to a nearby hotel to book an hourly room for a New Year’s Eve video call with He Xiu, but he suddenly felt empty and just wanted to stay at the hospital. Barring any accidents, the patient could be transferred to the ICU in six hours. His flight was in the morning; he could head to the airport right after the transfer.

Ye Si rubbed his face hard, suddenly remembering the Pikachu face-rubbing emoji He Xiu liked to send.

He felt like he had returned to the world of the living. He burst into a laugh and walked toward the vending machine.

Ice milk, Oreos, Snickers. The universal Ye Si replenishment formula.

He sat on a bench, took a few gulps of milk to wet his throat, took a huge bite of the Snickers, and popped two cookies into his mouth, chewing with effort like a hamster.

While chewing, he opened the “Riverside Breeze” group chat. Those guys had already sent several rounds of red envelopes. He dove in without a word and clicked them all.

• Zhong Chen: Finished the surgery? You enter and immediately snatch money.
• Xie Lan: Was it successful?
• Jian Zixing: Ye Si has good luck tonight.

Ye Si also sent a red envelope. The blessing read: “The little kid welcomes a new life.”

The first person to snatch it was He Xiu. After grabbing it, he posted: “From this moment, the kid’s life turns a corner.”

Ye Si froze at the last words.

He and He Xiu always thought the same way.

Perhaps their souls had taken root together long ago, or perhaps it was because he was personally taught by Professor Bulbasaur. Their thinking should be the same.

Ye Si typed quickly: “Boyfriend, is the fever gone? What did you eat tonight?”

• He Xiu: Reporting: Fever is gone. Haven’t eaten yet. We have beef dumplings, sweet and sour ribs, chocolate chiffon, and white peach cream daifuku.
• Zhong Chen: Anyway, with what you ordered, no one is missing out.

Ye Si laughed out loud and replied with a clasped-hands emoji: “Thanks for taking care of the family member.”

• He Xiu: They didn’t help much.
• Zhong Chen: Helping to eat doesn’t count?

At this point, Ye Si understood. He typed: “Don’t tell me He Xiu made all those things. Are you guys addicted to bullying patients?”

Zhong Chen went silent. Jian Zixing said: “He wanted to make them.”

Sigh, fine.

Professor Bulbasaur was a man of action; he couldn’t sit still.

Ye Si took his phone to the duty bathroom for a shower, preparing for a video call with his boyfriend before twelve.

Hot water poured down over his head. There was a phone stand on the wall. He had been watching cartoons, but after scrubbing the foam on his head and listening for a few minutes, he suddenly felt a bit lonely. He saw Douzi was streaming and entered the room.

It was an outdoor stream, as perfunctory as ever. The rear camera was pointed at the road, shaking with the host’s steps until it made one want to puke.

Ye Si squinted and continued scrubbing. “It’s snowing at home.”

What a shame. It hadn’t snowed in B-City this year. Otherwise, he wanted to go camping on a mountaintop with Professor Bulbasaur on a snowy night.

Ye Si rinsed his hair quickly. The stream only had road noise—the sound of wind and snow, and the occasional roar of a car. Douzi hadn’t spoken at all. Xie Lan was probably beside him, and Douzi was likely drunk and whispering to him.

I am so damn jealous, Ye Si thought.

The stream suddenly became noisy; he must have entered a building. Ye Si dried himself off, grabbed his phone, and walked out, peeking at the screen while drying his hair.

As he wiped, he suddenly frowned.

Where was this? A school corridor?

That wasn’t right. Who goes back to school to see teachers on New Year’s Eve?

“Holy crap, don’t tell me he’s taking Xie Lan on a romantic date to their old haunt. I despise you,” he thought angrily. He got dressed at lightning speed and typed in the chat: “Not coming home on New Year’s Eve? What bad thing are you up to?”

The comments rolled fast.

• Where is this?
• What is the senior taking us to do?
• This is the most boring substitute stream I’ve ever seen.
• Same. The scary part is I’m still watching.
• Douzi’s filler content has reached a certain level now.
• You should say his shamelessness has reached a certain level.
• The host must agree.

What the hell?

Ye Si walked out, puzzled, and suddenly stood still.

In the nausea-inducing footage, he caught the tip of the walking man’s shoes.

They were a pair of shoes perfect for winter outdoors—a limited edition collaboration, very hard to buy.

He had given them to He Xiu, planning for a snowy night hike.

He hadn’t given them to Douzi.

Was it possible… this wasn’t a school corridor?

Ye Si took a deep breath and flipped back to the group chat.

• Ye Si: @Dou Sheng, what are you doing? Why are you so quiet?

He waited for a full two minutes.

• Dou Sheng: Just singing for Xie Lan. We’re at home watching fireworks. Why? Feeling lonely?

The one streaming definitely wasn’t him!

Ye Si quickly replied: “Keep singing then. Don’t stop until your voice is raspy.”

He tucked his phone away and walked out. In the stream, He Xiu had reached the front desk of the cardiothoracic inpatient ward. “Excuse me, do you know where Ye Si is? The intern from P-University Medical School, here to observe a surgery.”

The voice was just around the corner at the end of the corridor!

The stream had a two-second delay. Before the sentence finished in the phone, the nurse in the distance had already given He Xiu directions.

Ye Si’s feet felt nailed to the spot. He stared straight at the end of the corridor.

Until the familiar hem of a coat swirled into view. The stream disconnected. He Xiu tucked his phone into his pocket, carrying a giant insulated food container, and strode toward him.

Stretchers carrying surgery patients passed by, along with patients carrying water, family members jogging, and caregivers assisting elderly patients with post-op delirium…

He Xiu crossed through those scenes of joy and sorrow, striding toward him.

When he was inches away, Ye Si felt as if his restraints had been loosened. He jumped into He Xiu’s arms.

“Whoa! The food container!” He Xiu’s fingers were pinched painfully, but he still held him tight, letting him wrap his legs around his waist in the busy hospital corridor. “The last time I’m picking you up from work this year. Any appetite? I made the sweet and sour ribs you wanted, and wrapped dumplings.”

“I’m eating! My appetite is great!” Ye Si felt his mood take off vertically, breaking through the hospital roof, shooting into the sky like a brilliant red beam and exploding before the whole world.

“I’m eating YOU, my boyfriend!” He bit hard into He Xiu’s lips. He Xiu was startled and held him close, whispering in his ear: “Find a quiet place to eat a New Year’s Eve dinner together?”

“Follow me!” Ye Si grabbed the man’s collar and dragged him toward the duty room, ignoring the curious stares from passersby.

He Xiu laughed behind him. “Showing off.”

“I’m showing off because I want to.” Ye Si dragged him into the room, shut the door, and pounced on him to nibble.

“I missed you so much.” He suspected he was making disgusting whining sounds, but he still burrowed into the man’s arms, even though He Xiu’s clothes were still full of the winter chill. “I wanted to countdown with you so badly!”

“So I came. Didn’t expect that, did you?” He Xiu laughed. It was like they were back in their student days, confidently waiting for an affirmative answer.

Ye Si kissed him twice aggressively, grabbed the food container, and rushed to the table.

The lid was lifted, and the rising steam from the dumplings made his eyes feel warm.

He used his hands to grab two dumplings and shove them into his mouth. It was his favorite juicy beef filling, so delicious he wanted to punch the table.

“Eat slowly.” He Xiu sat beside him. His cold wasn’t fully gone, and his voice was a bit airy. He broke the chopsticks for Ye Si and poured his favorite dipping sauce.

“You eat too.” Ye Si fed a dumpling to his mouth. Watching him bite it, he couldn’t resist leaning in to peck his lips.

He Xiu couldn’t help but smile. “Missed me that much?”

“Of course. If you hadn’t come, I really would have spent New Year’s Eve alone in a hospital in another city. If I spent it alone, I’d be depressed for at least three days.”

“There are no ‘ifs’,” He Xiu said calmly. “Think of it as a small, surprising turning point. You watched a big turning point for that kid today; didn’t expect to have a small one of your own? Is it… uh, what? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Ye Si’s eyes were red. “Did you f*cking plant a bug on me?”

“Hmm?” He Xiu was confused. “What bug?”

“I love you.” Ye Si wiped his eyes and shoved a few more dumplings into his mouth, mumbling: “I love you from this year to next year, and the year after that. Every year, without end.”

He Xiu’s gaze turned soft. “Me too.”

He watched Ye Si eat, occasionally using his chopsticks. At the stroke of midnight, clusters of fireworks rose outside, and both their phones vibrated frantically.

He Xiu ignored it, turning to look out the window. He used his finger to trace a few letters in the condensation on the glass. The window reflected Ye Si eating dumplings behind him—devouring them, full of life.

It made him feel that everything—past, present, future—was for a scene like this.

Ye Si looked up suddenly, puzzled. “What are you writing? What is XNYS?”

He thought for a moment and had an epiphany. “想念叶斯! (Missing Ye Si!)”

He Xiu couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “That works too.”

Ye Si huffed twice and held a cleaned rib bone to his neck. “Confess! What did you write?”

“新年伊始 (The beginning of the New Year).” He Xiu met Ye Si’s eyes in the reflection of the glass, his eyes full of tenderness. “It could also be ‘Ye Si’—after all, the word ‘beginning’ suits him well.”

Ye Si let out a strange cry and pounced from behind, hugging He Xiu’s back like a koala and rocking him incessantly.

“Love you,” he whispered in He Xiu’s ear. “At the start of the new year, I’ll continue to love you well.”

He Xiu turned his face to kiss him. “Me too.”

Actually, his fever hadn’t fully subsided. He had been preparing frantically all day, and now his head felt hot and swollen, as if protesting his madness.

But having done many mad things, He Xiu was used to it himself.

Without Ye Si, he would never have had a life like this.

But in this world, there are no “ifs,” only turning points. Every turning point is a beginning, and every…

“I lied,” He Xiu whispered while kissing Ye Si.

Ye Si’s eyes were hazy and confused. “Hmm?”

“You guessed right. It was ‘Missing Ye Si’.”