Because of a project with his teammates, Lu Guifan’s exchange semester was unexpectedly delayed by half a term. Instead, Jiang Ruotang ended up going first.

Lu Guifan still remembered seeing Jiang Ruotang off at the airport. That guy had wrapped an arm around his shoulders and sternly warned him: he was not allowed to miss any video calls, he must not take off his black-rimmed glasses again, and if anyone asked for his number or other contact info, unless it was for research purposes, he had to politely decline.

He looked just like a little fox baring its teeth, afraid its chicken leg was about to be stolen. He thought he was being fierce, but in Lu Guifan’s eyes, he was simply too cute.

Lu Guifan hadn’t expected that he was so “in demand” in Jiang Ruotang’s heart, and of course, he agreed to everything.

From clothes to shoes, Lu Guifan had helped Jiang Ruotang pick them all carefully. He even searched online for a house perfectly suited for the two of them to live in together. Coincidentally, Professor Yang happened to be in that same city, so Lu Guifan sent Jiang Ruotang’s things over in advance—including his everyday pillow. He figured Professor Yang would be shocked when he saw the mountain of boxes.

Lu Guifan wasn’t too worried about Jiang Ruotang’s language skills; it was Jian Sha who was more concerned about his ability to live independently.

“Is Ruotang really going to be okay on his own? This guy always had Lu Guifan pick him up and drop him off. Even bringing in the laundry from the balcony—he’d wait until Lu Guifan came home… What if he starves abroad just because he can’t boil an egg? I heard takeout there isn’t very reliable, dining out means tipping, and when you go to the grocery store, you have to buy a whole week’s worth. Plus, living alone in such a big house—won’t he get scared?”

After hearing Jian Sha say all that, Zhao Changfeng also started to worry. “Lu Guifan, look at how dependent you’ve made him! I think I need to apply for that exchange program too. I really can’t feel at ease leaving him alone over there…”

Jiang Ruotang replied with annoyance, “Oh please! We’re not even in the same city. Even if you did come, what would you do if a pipe burst or something broke? You’d fly over just to fix it?”

Zhao Changfeng leaned his head back. “Why would I be fixing stuff for you?”

Jiang Ruotang spread his hands and said, “Then what use are you to me?”

Lu Guifan chuckled. “His ability to live independently is actually quite strong.”

Jian Sha nodded. “He’s just gotten used to bossing you around.”

“What about Cai Cai? I haven’t seen him in a while.” Jiang Ruotang tapped on Cai Ji’s contact. Their chat history still sat at a message from last month.

“He’s going crazy with that game,” Jian Sha said helplessly. “Apparently, it’s going into public beta next quarter. Even the tiniest issue gets him acting like it’s a national emergency.”

Jiang Ruotang suddenly regretted investing in Shanhai Century. What if the game didn’t launch but his good friend collapsed from a heart attack in front of the computer? That would be awful.

No, he needed to tell the game company to hire someone specifically to make sure the developers ate three meals a day and got eight hours of sleep.

Maybe it was just his imagination, but during the week before Jiang Ruotang left, Lu Guifan had been acting especially… off.

Jiang Ruotang definitely didn’t have Lu Guifan’s stamina. While Lu Guifan wasn’t flashy, he was solid—like a heavy sword with no edge, slow but devastating. Every second mattered. He didn’t slack off. And he just kept going. Jiang Ruotang often surrendered after just one and a half rounds.

Lu Guifan did know how to be considerate. He could always tell when Jiang Ruotang was just teasing him and when he truly couldn’t go on, always stopping at the right moment.

But that week… it was like a new world had opened.

Even just glancing at him could make Lu Guifan’s gaze darken with longing.

Whatever could be imagined, Lu Guifan could deliver.

In the end, Jiang Ruotang started wrapping himself tightly in his blanket after dinner, pretending to be asleep. But that only led to being woken up and destroyed physically, mind blown and soul ready to ascend. He was exhausted, but at the same time, it was so good.

And for some reason, Jiang Ruotang didn’t dislike it one bit. In fact, he felt a little sorry for Lu Guifan—because he could feel the other’s reluctance and a kind of unease he had never shown before.

People only fear loss when they love deeply.

At the airport, Jiang Ruotang wrapped his arm around Lu Guifan’s shoulders and whispered in his ear, “Come find me soon, okay?”

Lu Guifan buried his face in his neck and gave a soft “Mm.”

That goodbye meant they would now be separated by mountains and oceans—thousands of miles apart.

But thanks to Lu Guifan’s meticulous arrangements, Jiang Ruotang’s transition overseas had gone incredibly smoothly.

When he got off the plane, Professor Yang personally picked him up and took him to the house Lu Guifan had rented. He had also spoken with Mu Xianqing, who had a branch company and gallery in the area, and arranged for a local Chinese assistant to act as Jiang Ruotang’s driver—whether it was to meet Professor Kleven, explore the city, or just go grocery shopping, someone would always be there to help.

Jiang Ruotang quickly adapted to the local life.

He was cheerful and talented, and soon became close with Professor Kleven’s other students. They’d invite him out to seek inspiration, attend concerts, and party on the grass.

There was a time difference between them, so while Lu Guifan spent his days fully immersed in the lab, by 8 p.m. sharp he’d be waiting for their video call.

At first, they’d talk from 8 to midnight without pause.

Later, Jiang Ruotang would go hiking and send Lu Guifan the sunrise sketches he’d drawn.

Sometimes he’d be sleepy the next day, barely awake during their video call. Other times, he’d dress in a stylish suit with his hair swept back, chatting while getting ready for a gallery event or art exchange.

They’d kiss through the screen, and Jiang Ruotang’s eyes were full of joy. Lu Guifan often wanted to ask, Do you miss me?

But he never said it aloud—he didn’t want to ruin Jiang Ruotang’s happiness.

Instead, Lu Guifan threw himself into his lab work with relentless intensity, pushing his team to new heights.

Finally, thanks to his non-stop effort and insane efficiency, a project originally scheduled to take three months was wrapped up in two.

He immediately booked a flight, packed in a whirlwind, and rushed to the airport.

Every minute on the plane felt like torture. He just wanted to hold his lover, bury himself in the crook of his neck, kiss him fiercely, and drown him in his longing and love.

Even though he was exhausted, he couldn’t sleep a wink—like he was wound up too tight, running on adrenaline, desperate to reach Jiang Ruotang.

It took almost an hour to clear customs. He got in the pre-arranged car and headed straight for the house he had rented for them.

The closer he got, the more nervous he felt.

Jiang Ruotang hadn’t replied to his texts. He’d mentioned going camping with friends, but Lu Guifan hadn’t received any pictures or sketches from the trip. Was his phone dead? Or had he just not seen the messages?

It was past 1 a.m.—Jiang Ruotang was probably fast asleep. Lu Guifan didn’t have the heart to wake him.

It wasn’t until around 2 a.m. that Lu Guifan arrived at the house.

The little villa looked especially lonely and quiet at night. Only then did Lu Guifan realize—he really shouldn’t have left Jiang Ruotang to live alone here. How lonely that must have been.

The house wasn’t completely dark—light still glowed from the living room, and a soft nightlight shone upstairs. But Jiang Ruotang never slept with the lights on.

Even though the neighborhood was safe, Lu Guifan had paid to install extra security measures.

He stood at the gate, punched in the code, and the door opened with a soft beep. The inner door echoed shut behind him.

The house was bigger than he’d imagined. Shoes were scattered in the entryway, and tucked in the shoe cabinet was a pair of dark blue slippers in his size.

For a moment, all his nervousness softened.

He quietly climbed the stairs, looking for Jiang Ruotang.

He passed by a room with its door slightly open, moonlight filtering in through half-drawn curtains. It looked like an art studio. A painting leaned near the window—it was a man’s side profile.

For some reason, Lu Guifan’s heart clenched. Jiang Ruotang’s paintings always reflected his inner world—his moods, his thoughts.

He stepped inside, turned on the light, and realized the portrait was his side profile.

A wave of joy surged through him. He looked around, lifted the cloths covering other canvases, and found that nearly every one of them was of him.

Many showed him in his lab coat—chin resting on hand, laughing from something Jiang Ruotang had said, or gazing affectionately into the distance.

Even the sketchbooks lying around were filled with either landscapes or him.

That question—“Do you miss me?”—was finally answered.

How could Jiang Ruotang not miss him?

Every brushstroke, every shadow and highlight, spoke clearly: “I miss you.”

Lu Guifan turned and hurried to the bedroom door. He had worried it might be locked, but it turned easily in his hand.

Jiang Ruotang was curled on his side, half his face buried in the pillow. He looked so small in the big bed, clinging to something beneath the blanket.

Lu Guifan sat down quietly, unwilling to wake him. Just looking at him like this was enough.

After a while, he gently brushed his knuckles along Jiang Ruotang’s cheek. Soft and warm. That urge to kiss him surged again.

He leaned down and kissed the tip of his nose—only to realize what was under the blanket wasn’t a pillow, but black wool.

Lu Guifan frowned. He looked closely, lifted the blanket bit by bit, and saw a coat collar.

He flipped it to check the tag—it was his missing black wool coat!

Lu Guifan pressed a hand to his eyes and let out a helpless sigh, though a smile crept onto his lips.

He remembered video chatting with Jiang Ruotang and complaining that his black wool coat had gone missing. Jiang Ruotang had casually said maybe it got lost at the cleaners and they could just buy a new one.

But clearly… he had stuffed it in his suitcase and brought it with him.