The wind on the lake was much stronger than they had imagined. After calling out, Zou Yang could barely even keep his mouth open.

Yet Fan Jun’s status seemed perfectly fine; he even stood at the bow with his arms wide open to catch the breeze for a while, making Zou Yang wonder for a split second if the two of them were even occupying the same dimension.

“Let me… take a picture, of you.” Shivering, he fished his phone out of his pocket and took a few steps back.

Fan Jun stood with his back to him, looking ahead. The camera lens couldn’t capture just how howling the wind was; the sunlight spilling over the bow and across the lake created a beautiful sense of melting into the landscape, even hinting at a deceptive touch of warmth.

Trembling all over, Zou Yang snapped a few random shots. “Turn around.”

Fan Jun ignored him.

“Fan Jun! Turn around!” Zou Yang raised his voice.

Fan Jun still ignored him.

Fine. The boat was making plenty of noise to begin with, and he was standing downwind from Fan Jun anyway. Stiffening his entire body against the cold, he could only walk up behind Fan Jun and tap him on the shoulder.

“Hmm?” Fan Jun turned around instantly.

He blanked for a second upon seeing Zou Yang, and then threw his arms tightly around him, cupping the back of his head to press his face right against his shoulder.

“What are you doing, Boss Fan?” Zou Yang was startled. The wheelhouse was right behind them, and the captain was standing right there watching.

“Let’s go back into the cabin,” Fan Jun said, already nudging him backward.

“I was taking pictures of you,” Zou Yang protested. “I was telling you to turn around!”

“Your face is completely purple,” Fan Jun countered. “No more pictures.”

“Go stand over there properly,” Zou Yang gave him a push. “If we just go sit back in the cabin, wouldn’t we have endured all this freezing for nothing?!”

Fan Jun had no choice but to let him go and retreat back to the bow.

“Lean against that railing,” Zou Yang directed.

Facing him directly made speaking a whole lot easier.

“Turn a bit to the side,” he instructed, guiding the angles. “Look over to the right. Good, now lift your head up a little…”

Fan Jun cooperated beautifully. After all, he was a guy who cared about coordination even when just throwing on everyday clothes, so Zou Yang quickly rattled off a dozen or so shutter clicks.

“Come here.” Zou Yang turned around and raised the camera, holding down the burst mode as Fan Jun walked toward him. The very last shot froze right at the moment Fan Jun leaned his face close next to his.

“Done.” Zou Yang shoved the phone into his pocket and bolted into the cabin, frozen to the point where he had almost lost all sensation.

When he looked back, he noticed Fan Jun was bending down to pick a phone up off the deck.

“Huh?” He patted his own pocket; his phone indeed wasn’t in there.

“Growing up, you must have lost a ton of things, haven’t you?” Fan Jun said, handing the phone back to him.

“It’s just too cold, my head is aching from the freeze,” Zou Yang said, leaning back against the seat and tapping his phone open to check the pictures. “Aren’t you cold?”

“It’s alright,” Fan Jun replied. “I… don’t mind the cold too much.”

“You…” Zou Yang glanced at him, wanting to ask why, but something in Fan Jun’s tone made it clear that it wasn’t a matter of being naturally immune to the cold. He didn’t press the matter further.

However, Zou Yang truly was someone who naturally feared the cold. Even though they had originally intended to follow the owner’s advice—taking a loop around before checking out the island in the middle of the lake—he ultimately decided to just stay inside the cabin and not venture out again.

Peering through the glass windows, they completed a half-loop around the perimeter of the lake and headed back to the pier.

The lake was massive, and even a half-loop took up a good chunk of time. The meager breakfast they had eaten that morning had long since been entirely depleted, so they settled down at a random spot near the pier to grab two quick rice bowls.

The braised pork rice bowls were incredibly delicious—the kind of delicious where you wouldn’t leave a single grain behind.

Only upon walking out did Zou Yang notice a cluster of award plaques hanging by the storefront.

Fan Jun pulled out his phone to snap a picture of the entrance. “Surprise number two of the trip.”

“What was number one?” Zou Yang asked.

“The photos they took,” Fan Jun said with a smile.

Surprise number one of the trip came while they were driving back down the road. It was already past four o’clock by the time Liu Wenrui finally forwarded the photos over.

【Respect】You two better weep with gratitude toward me

【Respect】I managed to snag life-changing photos for you guys

【Zou yang】crying.jpg

There were three photos in total. The photographer girl had already edited them.

The moment Zou Yang tapped open the photos, he couldn’t help but blurting out, “Holy crap, pull over.”

Fan Jun pulled the truck over to the roadside and leaned over.

The angle the photographer had captured was exactly what Zou Yang had envisioned.

A sky flooded with crimson sunset glow, the dipping sun at the far edge of the lake, golden light shimmering across the water, an empty highway, and a somewhat desolate winter landscape.

One car, two people. All three photos featured this same backdrop.

In one, the two of them stood with their backs to the camera, staring out at the lake. In another, Zou Yang stood up in the truck bed while Fan Jun stood down on the roadside, looking up at him.

And in the last one, the focus zoomed in close, showing only their upper bodies standing side by side, turning their heads to look into each other’s eyes amidst the residual glow of the setting sun.

It inexplicably brought a stinging, emotional swell to his throat.

“These are taken incredibly well,” Zou Yang breathed. “When we get back, we have to get a frame and hang this up.”

“Mm.” Fan Jun stared at the screen, extending his left hand to pinch-to-zoom on the photo for a closer look.

But he quickly withdrew it.

Without a word, Zou Yang enlarged the photo himself. Fan Jun’s left hand was shaking.

“Send them to me in a bit,” Fan Jun said.

“Mm.” Zou Yang nodded, saving the photos first. Just as Fan Jun was about to shift into gear and pull back onto the road, Zou Yang spoke up, “I’ll drive.”

Fan Jun’s hand froze over the gear shift, and he cast a look over.

“I’ll drive. You just keep an eye out for me, and we can switch back if I get tired.” Zou Yang hopped out of the truck, rounded the front, and yanked open the driver’s side door. “Get down.”

Fan Jun hesitated for a brief couple of seconds before stepping out and sliding into the passenger seat.

“What I told you last night wasn’t just a sweet nothing,” Zou Yang said, buckling his seatbelt and fixing his eyes on the road ahead. “That’s truly what I want.”

Fan Jun turned his head to look at him.

“I want that kind of feeling…” Zou Yang continued, “…of being needed by someone, of having someone cling to me. Do you understand?”

“Mm,” Fan Jun murmured, his voice sounding slightly low and thick.

“If I can’t feel that you need me,” Zou Yang said, “I’ll feel incredibly lonely.”

“…Understood,” Fan Jun whispered.

Zou Yang didn’t say anything else, keeping his focus pinned on the road ahead before shifting into gear a moment later and driving the truck out.

There was one slight downside to Zou Yang driving—the two of them couldn’t really chat. After all, he was a total beginner, and this was only his second time driving; even Fan Jun unwrapping a package of crackers beside him felt like a distraction to his focus.

By the time the truck rolled up to the highway entrance, he wavered over whether to hand the wheel back to Fan Jun, wondering if his hand felt any better now.

“Turn on the headlights,” Fan Jun noted. “It’s getting dark.”

“Oh,” Zou Yang glanced around. “Where do I turn them on?”

Fan Jun leaned his upper body over, reaching across to switch the headlights on. “We’ll grab a bite at the next rest stop up ahead. After we eat, let me take over. Beginners shouldn’t drive at night.”

“Sounds good,” Zou Yang agreed.

When they finally made it back to the Trade Center parking lot, it was already past nine o’clock.

He Chuan had anticipated their arrival, bringing along a small group of guys and pulling two flatbed carts to wait in the parking lot. Among them were a few of his friends and two clients—all of them waiting around specifically for this new batch of goods they were bringing back.

“How was it,” He Chuan looked over at Zou Yang. “Was the trip fun?”

“Pretty interesting,” Zou Yang smiled.

“Going down to the countryside to collect items is even more fun. Next time a trip pops up, you should tag along again,” He Chuan proposed. “Saves me the trip.”

“You certainly know how to calculate your benefits, Boss He,” Fan Jun remarked, turning around as he helped hoist the goods onto the flatbed.

“Look at you,” He Chuan laughed, “I pay, alright?”

“He’s expensive,” Fan Jun countered.

“Fine, fine, fine,” He Chuan muttered. “I’ll go myself!”

The group began wheeling the goods back, leaving Fan Jun and Zou Yang standing alone by the truck.

“Why didn’t you want me to go?” Zou Yang asked.

“It’s too exhausting,” Fan Jun said. “The locations are all remote; you basically can only stay in deep villages, and there’s no scenery to speak of. If a spot pops up that actually has something fun around, I’ll bring you then.”

Zou Yang let out a click of his tongue.

“Want to go over to the shop… and sit for a bit?” Fan Jun looked back toward the group that had already walked quite a distance away.

“Nah, there are too many people. Between sorting through the goods, drinking tea, and grabbing late-night snacks, they won’t wrap up until two or three in the morning,” Zou Yang said. “I’m going to head home and straighten things up.”

“Mm.” Fan Jun nodded.

“School starts in another two days. Li Zhiyue and the guys are already back in the dorms. I need to head over to campus tomorrow; they came back early and I’ve been ignoring them this whole time…” Zou Yang trailed off for a moment. “Does listening to this stuff bore you?”

“Not at all. I like listening to you,” Fan Jun said.

“The teacher certificate exam is next week,” Zou Yang let out a yawn. “So things are probably going to be a bit hectic over the next few days.”

“Mm,” Fan Jun brushed his hand gently against his cheek. “Go home and get some proper rest.”

“I’ll call a ride,” Zou Yang lowered his head to pull up his phone. “I’ll text you when I get home. If you’re busy, you don’t have to reply right away.”

“I won’t be busy,” Fan Jun said.

Zou Yang looked up at him and smiled.

Busy was an absolute certainty. Once the goods arrived, unboxing and organizing them—even with a crowd helping out—was a process that ultimately required Fan Jun and He Chuan to oversee personally. And He Chuan was basically useless.

Fan Jun’s arm hadn’t been in the best shape over the last two days. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the biting cold, a lack of proper rest, or… that was unlikely; it was probably just the chill setting in…

After finishing the unboxing and sorting the items into their respective categories, his left hand started shaking again, forcing him to shove it into his pocket.

A few bottles and jars were items that people had expressed interest in beforehand, so a small group was currently squatting around them, examining the pieces.

The phone buzzed in his pocket.

[Zou yang]: I haven’t reached home yet.

Fan Jun smiled slightly.

[Fan]: I know

[Zou yang]: I just called my mom, she’s home today

[Fan]: Good thing you’re back then

[Zou yang]: What are you doing

[Fan]: Missing you

[Zou yang]: Crap, that’s getting cheesy

[Fan]: Then I’m busy

[Zou yang]: You don’t miss me?

[Fan]: Being cheesy while being busy.

[Zou yang]: Blow me a kiss.

[Fan]: Kiss where?

The moment he hit send on that message, he suddenly felt a wave of heat rising up his face, so he hurriedly hit unsend.

[Zou yang]: Quit acting all proper; I saw it.

[Fan]: Kiss where?

[Zou yang]: The tip of your ear.

“Fan Jun!” He Chuan called out from over by the tea table.

“Coming,” Fan Jun answered, walking over.

“Wasn’t there a pair of these jars?” He Chuan asked. “You only brought one back?”

“The other one had been repaired,” Fan Jun picked up the jar and flipped it over. “The entire bottom was completely shattered.”

“Damn,” He Chuan stepped closer, lowering his voice. “He didn’t mention it?”

“He said he had brought it up to you,” Fan Jun replied. “I told him you hadn’t mentioned it to me, so I passed on it. I swapped it for a shrimp platter instead; I thought that one looked quite nice.”

“My coach is the reliable one after all,” He Chuan slapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll go back to him later.”

Just as Zou Yang had predicted, the group hung around the shop the entire night. Though Fan Jun didn’t talk much, he knew practically everyone there, so he could only sit by and keep them company.

It was nearly three in the morning by the time Fan Jun retreated upstairs to sleep. The crowd downstairs hadn’t fully dispersed yet; two guys were still chatting away with He Chuan and would likely crash right at the shop.

Fan Jun pulled out his phone to check the time, and an anniversary reminder popped up.

He stared at it blankly for a long moment before swiping the notification away.

He didn’t actually need a reminder for this date; he remembered it every single year. But this year… he had genuinely forgotten.

The anniversary of his mother’s death.

He didn’t know the exact day his mother had passed away; he only remembered it being intensely cold. He had no memory of dates back then; every single day had been lived in sheer terror. This specific date was given to him later by Auntie Li, who told him to remember it well so that he could visit his mother when he grew up.

But he had never gone. He had grown up long ago, yet he had never once visited. He hadn’t even gathered the courage to ask where his mother’s ashes were laid to rest.

Until today.

Even though he had forgotten what day it was, when the realization finally struck him, it was the first time he didn’t feel that crushing dread of remembering this day.

Whenever a new batch of goods arrived, the shop was bound to be packed with people. However, Fan Jun slept until past ten o’clock before being stomped awake by Da Hei, and He Chuan hadn’t bothered to wake him either.

By the time Fan Jun cleaned himself up and headed downstairs, several customers were already browsing the shop, and He Chuan was busy brewing tea.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” He picked up a mung bean cake from the table and ate it.

“Just documenting your tardiness is fine,” He Chuan joked.

“I’m taking half the day off this afternoon,” Fan Jun said. “Heading out for a bit.”

“Where to?” He Chuan asked.

Fan Jun remained silent.

He Chuan scanned the patrons in the shop. “How about you treat it as a shift swap? Don’t take any days off next week then.”

“Sure,” Fan Jun smiled slightly. “Lend me the truck.”

“Are you absolutely sure you don’t need me to come along with you?” Uncle Lu’s voice asked over the phone line.

“I really don’t, it’s fine,” Fan Jun said. “It’s just… it’s been so many years, I want to go take a look.”

“I’ll send you the exact plot number in a bit,” Uncle Lu said. “It’s in the old sector. Enter through the east gate so you don’t get turned around—if you go the wrong way, you’ll have to make a massive detour.”

“Mm,” Fan Jun answered.

The truck pulled up to the entrance of the east gate of the cemetery. This had been the only piece of information Fan Jun previously possessed.

Once Uncle Lu’s text message came through, he stepped out of the truck, grabbed the flowers from the backseat, and walked slowly into the cemetery grounds.

The environment here was quite beautiful. Looking out, the entire landscape was filled with the deep green of pines and cypresses.

Fan Jun stood in front of the directory map at the entrance for a while, first identifying which sector his mother was located in before following the signs deeper into the cemetery.

Every single gravestone bore a number, much like a house address. His mother’s plot number was an early one, located in the oldest section of the cemetery, which required quite a long walk.

The tombstones along the path gradually transitioned from new to old. Fan Jun walked with his head lowered, tracking the plot numbers carved into the small stone markers lining the path, before finally coming to a halt at the most remote spot in the southeastern corner.

Walking down a narrow pathway bridging two rows of tombstones to the very end brought him right to his mother’s gravestone.

Fan Jun hesitated for a dozen or so seconds before slowly stepping up to the monument.

There was no photograph. The inscription on the stone was incredibly bare.

The Tomb of Chen Xiaohui.

Beside it, smaller characters read: Erected by her beloved son, Fan Jun.

Fan Jun squatted down, resting the flowers gently in front of the headstone.

A heavy silence stretched out for a very long time. When he finally opened his mouth to speak, his voice was so faint he could barely hear it himself, carrying a slight, unstable tremor.

“Mom.”

A title he hadn’t uttered aloud in over a decade brought a piercing, bone-deep ache mixed with a familiar tenderness. The moment the word left his lips, Fan Jun slowly dropped to his knees before the grave.

I’m sorry, Mom. It took me this long to finally come see you.

“Mom,” Fan Jun raised his hand to lightly touch the cold stone, his fingertips tracing over his mother’s name. “I’m starting to forget what you looked like.”

He was truly starting to lose the memory of his mother’s face, yet there was no photo left on the stone.

“I’m sorry… I never dared to come see you before… I was terrified…”

Fan Jun lowered his head, a fierce sting rising in his eyes.

Tears spilled over before he even realized it, hitting the ground beneath him and soaking into small, dark circular spots on the earth.

“Mom,” Fan Jun looked up at the name carved into the stone. “Fan Gang is dead. He’s dead… I grew up safe and sound, so you can finally rest easy now. I should have come to tell you sooner, but…”

He turned his head away, pressing a hand tightly over his eyes for a moment. Taking a sharp, heavy breath, he sat back against the ground.

“I’m doing well,” he murmured, pausing for a moment. “I’m not helping out at Uncle Lu’s martial arts school anymore. I changed jobs… it’s actually pretty laid-back…”

He closed his eyes, falling into another prolonged silence.

“Mom, I got hurt,” when he spoke again, the tears came spilling out right along with his words. “I didn’t want to mention it because I was afraid you’d worry, but I… I really wanted to tell you…”

“I can’t hear out of my left ear anymore. There’s a chance it might recover, but it might also stay like this forever… My left hand is injured too, and I’m not sure if it’ll ever return to the way it was before… the recovery is incredibly slow…” He sniffled, a sudden surge of profound vulnerability washing over him, making it impossible to hold back the tears.

It was the first time he realized he was capable of crying like this. Crying until his vision was reduced to nothing but a blurred, watery haze of light and shadow.

“Let’s talk about something happy,” he fumbled around his pockets but couldn’t find any tissues, so he lowered his head to wipe his tears against his sleeve. “I… have someone I like now.”

“His name is Zou Yang. He’s a truly wonderful… boy… Truthfully, I don’t have much confidence… but at the same time…”

“I want to spend the rest of my life with him so, so badly.”

“But I don’t know if it’ll work out. After all… a lifetime is such a long time.”

“Mom,” Fan Jun spoke softly. “I don’t know if it works this way, but could you watch over me just one more time? You don’t have to worry about the ear; I’ve gotten used to it anyway… I have another surgery coming up soon to remove the remaining shrapnel fragments… Could you watch over my arm and help it get better a bit faster? Please…”