A few days later is the Mid-Semester Break, and students all take the chance to travel locally.

But Fang Chen’s original plan was to work.

Holiday wages would be doubled.

But then again—

It’s an American ranch!

He’d only ever seen them online.

Noticing Fang Chen’s hesitation, Seth spoke calmly, “We can stay there for a couple of days. Maybe you’ll like living in a cabin? We can have barbecues at night, pick fruit and try milking cows in the daytime.”

Fang Chen licked his lips, struggling for the last time. “I still have to work during the holiday—”

“You haven’t really gone out and had fun since coming here, right?” Seth picked up the conversation, coaxing slowly. “It’s only two or three days. It won’t set you back much.”

“And besides, you helped me catch those fake ticket sellers. I still haven’t properly thanked you. Let me invite you on a little trip—please don’t turn me down.”

Fang Chen was completely defeated.

He blinked and agreed, “Well… okay then!”

He’d earned quite a bit recently, anyway; he could afford a little luxury!

Thinking of this, he looked up, a little excitement in his voice for the coming adventure, “Do I need to bring anything?”

“Nothing at all,” said Seth. “I’ll take care of it.”

After the dinner party, Seth drove Fang Chen home. At first, Fang Chen said he didn’t need help—he could get back himself.

“I’m not afraid of the dark, you really don’t need to see me off. You just finished a match, hurry and get some rest…”

Before he could finish, Seth’s jacket was already draped over his shoulders again.

Under the oversized jacket, Fang Chen poked his head out, sleeves far too long, and was gently tugged outside by Seth.

If he insisted on walking him home…

Well, okay!

Fang Chen quickly compromised.

Coincidentally, the restaurant was close to his dorm. Fang Chen was half-asleep against the passenger seat and soon they arrived.

He blearily opened his eyes, mumbling, “Here already, so fast.”

His voice was a little nasal, soft and sweet, without meaning to sound affectionate.

But since he subconsciously spoke Mandarin, Seth didn’t understand.

A restlessness suddenly welled up in Seth’s heart; he wanted to understand everything Fang Chen said—even his sleepy murmurs, even his quiet little grumbles.

He desperately wanted control, to know everything about Fang Chen.

In the darkness of the car, Seth did what he most wanted.

He reached out and gently touched the top of Fang Chen’s head, smoothing down his tousled hair.

Fang Chen’s eyes widened, instantly awake.

He got a jolt—he thought Seth wanted to…

“Go to bed early when you get in,” the man said, looking into his eyes. “Rest well.”

“You should say that to yourself.”

Fang Chen grumbled, “It’s you who needs a good rest after a match.”

“Alright.” Seth smiled. “I’ll go to bed early too.”

“…”
What is this?

Who started this awkward conversation!

Fang Chen’s toes wanted to curl up again.

He pressed his lips together, muttered, “I’m going in now. Goodnight.”

He got out of the car and started walking, but kept feeling that Seth was watching him from behind, his gaze almost physical on his back.

Torn between looking and not, Fang Chen buried his head and ran straight into the building.

The door opened; his roommate was eating fried chicken and watching videos, looked up and stared, “Whose jacket are you wearing?”

What?

Fang Chen looked down at himself.

Σ( ° △°|||)︴

He… he’d actually worn Seth’s jacket home!!

How did he not even notice!

Was Seth gazing at him earlier to remind him about this?

Thinking of that, Fang Chen rushed to the bed and peered out the window, but the street below was empty—no sign of Seth’s car.

Already left.

Fang Chen pulled his head back in and could only send Seth a message: “I forgot to give you your jacket back.”

Seth replied quickly, “Mm, keep it on.”

“It’s way too big! 0.o, I look weird.”

“No, you look very cute.”

Fang Chen, as if burned, flung his phone aside.

Suddenly, cheers erupted from his roommate’s video: “Let me introduce you to our contestant, Seth—”

Fang Chen’s eyelid twitched, “What are you watching?”

“Seth’s boxing match today. Want to come watch?”

“…I’ll pass. I’m headed to bed.”

Fang Chen picked up his phone and quietly went back to his room.

Maybe because he hadn’t replied in a while, Seth sent another message.

—“Sweet dreams.”

Even though Seth said he didn’t need to bring anything, the day before departure Fang Chen still packed a huge bag.

Mosquito repellent, sunscreen, two sets of clothes—and of course, Seth’s jacket, freshly washed, carefully folded in the bag.

He even happily snapped a photo with his “explosive” bag, and for once logged into Twitter to post it.

Caption: expectation!

Even lying in bed, Fang Chen was still so excited—it felt like the spring outing schools organize for kids back home.

Although, he hadn’t attended that one.

The next day after, when he went back to school, he found out the orphanage hadn’t paid his fees so he couldn’t go.

He waved at everyone, pretended not to be sad, said he could just study at home. In reality, after everyone left, he just cried and wiped his tears sitting on the ground.

Left behind again.

Thinking of this, Fang Chen suddenly felt uneasy—he tossed and turned, then got up to try to send Seth a message.

“You tomorrow…”

Deleted, deleted.

“Where do we meet…”

Never mind, too late.

Delete, retype, but in the end not a single letter got sent. He stared at the ceiling, until his phone buzzed—a shock! He grabbed it, afraid he’d sent something weird by accident.

But no.

It was Seth, suddenly sending a message.

[Sleep early. I’ll pick you up tomorrow.]

Fang Chen stared at the message for several seconds and replied.

[Okay!!! Goodnight!]

People aren’t meant to be left behind forever.

A reply popped up from his Twitter account.

Saoirse: [Have fun.]

A night of random thoughts led Fang Chen to wake up late; he missed breakfast, rushed to wash and dashed out with his bag.

Seth was waiting at the car, naturally taking Fang Chen’s bag and eyeing his messy hair, lips curled in a smile.

Fang Chen noticed, covered his hair in embarrassment, “I got up too early, didn’t fix my hair.”

“No need; it’s cute like this.”

Seth opened the car door for him.

There it was, again—Seth’s second time calling him cute, and Fang Chen still felt a bit flustered.

Other people could call him “cutie” or “baby” and he’d be fine; but when Seth did, his hyper-awareness kicked in, probably because Seth used to be so polite. When he crossed the line, Fang Chen became extra vigilant.

Before he could think more, a bag was handed to him.

“Eh?”

“You didn’t eat breakfast, right?” Seth said. “My home chef made it, tastes pretty good.”

Home chef…

What a rare phrase.

Fang Chen thanked him and quietly opened the bag—it was still warm: crispy bread with runny egg and marinated beef patty inside, absolutely heavenly, orange juice in the cup, thick and cold, likely fresh-squeezed.

He sighed, “You really eat like this every day! Must be so nice.”

Seth kept one hand on the steering wheel, handed him another small box, “Summer’s almost here—if you want, you could come stay with me. My chef can also do some Chinese dishes.”

Seeing Fang Chen’s wide-eyed shock, Seth explained, “The villa’s huge, Joey comes often too.”

Alright!

He didn’t get foreigners at all.

Fang Chen shook his head, “Thank you for inviting me, but no—I’ll probably stay at school to keep working over summer.”

Seth didn’t insist, just nodded, “Try it.”

Fang Chen opened the box; inside were perfectly arranged blueberries, all huge. He picked one and ate it—so sweet.

“These are blueberries from the ranch; they delivered them yesterday. If you like, you can pick a bunch and take them home.”

Fang Chen excitedly held one up before popping it into his mouth, “Delicious!”

“Glad you like it.”

Seth turned to look at Fang Chen for a long moment, then looked away when their eyes met. “Want some fresh air?”

“What?”

Seth was driving a convertible today; once on the road, he put the top down, and wind rushed in from all directions.

Fang Chen’s hair got blown even messier.

But he didn’t care at all.

His eyes sparkled, head swiveling everywhere, not enough to take it all in. He couldn’t help asking, “Can I stand up?”

Seth smiled at him, “Of course.”

Fang Chen instantly stood, stretching his arms to welcome the wind.

It was the highway stretching out from the city, lined with palms, curving into what looked like infinity, with a sky so blue it was like a bucket of paint had been dumped overhead.

Fang Chen spoke excitedly, “Seth, I feel like I’m in a movie—like an American road movie.”

Seth looked up at him.

Because of their height difference, Seth always had to look down to see Fang Chen—first catching his adorable little hair swirl, then his bright eyes, finally his full lips, which looked kissable.

But now, Seth’s gaze moved upward—from Fang Chen’s waistline revealed by the wind, to his slender vulnerable neck.

After a while, Seth laughed, “It does look a lot like a movie.”

But obviously not the same kind of movie as Fang Chen imagined.

__

Author’s Note:
Little Lamb: Freedom! Road! American blockbuster! [Cheer]
Seth: So white, so soft, such a cute wife [heart-eyes]