“How many more mushy versions are you going to write?” Liu Wenrui asked, holding a bottle of Coke.

Zou Yang had been working on his calligraphy for two days straight. Except when they were in class, the rest of the guys spent basically all their time in the dorm watching him analyze every stroke.

The floor was littered with rejected sheets. The two carefully selected papers that had actually passed inspection were sitting on the adjacent desk. Zou Yang stood with his brush in one hand and his other hand propped on the desk, deep in thought.

“Are these really trash?” Zhang Chuanlong crouched on the floor, lifting one up to inspect it. “This looks completely fine to me.”

“His OCD kicked in,” Liu Wenrui sighed. “They all look exactly the same to me, but he says a single horizontal stroke here or a slash there ruins it, so he dumps them.”

“Do you have enough paper?” Zhang Chuanlong asked.

“Yeah,” Zou Yang said.

“He definitely has enough,” Li Zhiyue said, leaning against the wardrobe while eating potato chips. “He bought a whole ream in two different sizes. You should probably ask what we’re supposed to do with all this waste instead.”

“What a waste,” Zhang Chuanlong murmured, shaking his head as he lifted the sheets one by one. “There isn’t a single typo. To throw them out just like that… Love springs up from nowhere…“

“Stop reading it. If you keep reading, I’m going to commit a murder,” Zou Yang warned. He had been hovering his brush over the paper for ages trying to build up the right momentum, and Zhang Chuanlong’s reading almost made him want to abandon the brush and bolt from the dorm.

Writing this stuff in front of his roommates was embarrassing enough, but hearing them read it aloud…

It immediately brought back the sheer awkwardness of that day on the second floor of the shop when Fan Jun had repeated his words to him.

“We’ll keep it a secret,” Liu Wenrui said. “Don’t worry.”

“Keep what secret? Where else could you even talk about it?” Zou Yang shot him a look. “Even Lyu Ze knows by now.”

The guys instantly burst into a fit of muffled laughter.

“True, it’s not like we can go shout it down the hallway,” Li Zhiyue laughed, though he sounded a bit sentimental after. “Honestly, if it were anyone else, they wouldn’t have your guts. They wouldn’t have been able to say it…”

“If I were babbling nonsense…” Zhang Chuanlong thought about it. “What would I even recite?”

“My hair lifts my hat in fury, my fierce spirit rushes through my helmet’s strap,” Zou Yang said.

“…That sounds familiar,” Zhang Chuanlong noted.

“Laughing over a cup of wine, killing a man in the middle of the city,” Zou Yang continued.

“Li Bai!” Zhang Chuanlong pointed at him. “I know that one.”

“Then recite that line,” Zou Yang nodded. “Keep it in mind.”

“Look at you, helping him brainstorm lines,” Liu Wenrui tapped the desk. “Write already. Have you figured out what you’re writing next?”

He had figured it out, of course. He was just too embarrassed to put brush to paper.

Zou Yang glanced up at Liu Wenrui, then turned to look at Li Zhiyue and Zhang Chuanlong.

Oh, whatever. These guys had lived together through thick and thin, and they already knew every single embarrassing detail about each other anyway…

He gritted his teeth.

The brush hit the paper.

“I…” Liu Wenrui leaned closer. “Another ‘I’ and ‘you’ thing? Want… I want…”

“I want to fly higher—” Zhang Chuanlong belted out the lyric as he leaned in too.

“Fly higher…” Li Zhiyue harmonized.

Zou Yang kept going.

“Marry…” Liu Wenrui froze mid-word. “I want to marry?”

The entire room fell completely silent.

Zou Yang’s flow happened to be incredible at that exact moment, and he was thrilled with how the first three characters turned out.

Ignoring their reactions, he rode the wave of momentum and quickly finished the last two characters—the ones he hadn’t practiced because he had been too embarrassed.

Fan Jun.

As expected of the person he thought about every single day.

Those two characters looked beautiful, exceeding even his own expectations.

“I want to marry Fan Jun?” Li Zhiyue couldn’t even keep his composure, his voice dripping with pure shock as he read it aloud.

“Tomorrow I’m going to marry you…” Zhang Chuanlong started singing again.

“You actually… said that back then?” Liu Wenrui pointed at the paper.

Everyone already knew the earlier lines were just nonsense he babbled while coming out of anesthesia, but he had been too embarrassed to mention this specific sentence.

But now that he had thrown caution to the wind and written it down, it felt strangely liberating.

“Yeah.” Zou Yang set down his brush, took a step back, and crossed his arms as he admired the five beautifully written characters.

“Holy shit!” the guys chorused in perfect unison.

“I’m blushing for you,” Liu Wenrui said.

“Well, I didn’t know what I was saying at the time,” Zou Yang said.

“Badass,” Zhang Chuanlong walked over to the desk, deeply impressed. “You really are a master of both the pen and the sword.”

“Thanks,” Zou Yang said.

“Next step is mounting it?” Li Zhiyue asked.

“Yeah,” Zou Yang nodded.

“Is it with this stuff?” Liu Wenrui pointed to a cardboard box on the floor by the wall, which held a few jars and flat brushes.

“Yep.” Zou Yang rubbed his hands together.

Everyone pitched in to help clean up the rejected drafts scattered across the floor, but they didn’t throw them away since it felt like a waste.

Zou Yang looked at the pile of paper, furrowing his brows as he thought. Keeping them wasn’t a bad idea; he could use them to make other things.

Fan Jun’s gift was probably going to be complex. His own gift, as Zhang Chuanlong put it, was the culmination of over a decade of practice, but once that skill was there, the actual creation wasn’t that difficult…

Since the difficulty was lacking, he would make up for it with quantity.

“Get to work, stop daydreaming,” Liu Wenrui cleared the table and clapped his hands. “Let’s begin. Zhiyue, keep recording.”

“You’re recording this part too?” Zou Yang asked as he began rolling out plastic wrap over the table.

“We recorded the writing process, except for that last part…” Liu Wenrui said. “It’s fine that we skipped that one anyway. You wouldn’t have the face to let anyone see it.”

Zou Yang smiled, taking one of the finished calligraphy sheets and laying it out flat on top.

He filled a spray bottle with water and misted the back of the paper.

“What is this step for?” Li Zhiyue asked, holding up his phone.

“Moistening the paper,” Zou Yang glanced at him. “Why are you doing a play-by-play commentary?”

“What’s next?” Li Zhiyue pressed.

“Applying the paste.” Zou Yang opened the jar of paste to check it. It looked good. He dipped a wool brush into it and began spreading it slowly from the center of the paper out to the edges.

Next, he took the matching backing paper he had bought and laid it carefully over the top, using a flat brush to smooth out any air bubbles until it was perfectly flat.

“Zhiyue, pass me that Cihai dictionary set,” Zou Yang said.

“Where is it?” Zhang Chuanlong immediately started searching.

“Under the desk,” Li Zhiyue said. “What is this step?”

“Pressing it flat. Normally it should go on a drying wall, but we’re not making it that complicated.” As Zou Yang spoke, he took the heavy dictionaries from Zhang Chuanlong and lined them up one by one across the paper to weight it down securely.

This process was tedious, and Zou Yang used to find it incredibly annoying when he was learning it as a kid.

But right now, he executed every single step with absolute precision and care. His mind was entirely consumed by what Fan Jun’s reaction would be when he saw it.

There were three sheets in total, and it didn’t take long to finish pasting and pressing them all.

“Now we wait,” Zou Yang said. “Come on, let’s go get some food. By the time we get back, it should be ready for the next step.”

“Sounds good. We can lock down the itinerary for the birthday while we eat,” Liu Wenrui said.

Fan Jun’s birthday fell on a weekday, meaning they had classes and Fan Jun had to work.

But Zou Yang didn’t want to change the date of the celebration; he wanted it on the actual day, so the group decided to pull an all-nighter.

Compared to their own birthdays, where they just had a normal meal and went out for KTV or a bar, they were putting way more effort into Fan Jun’s birthday.

They were definitely driving out. And while it was going to be a barbecue just like last time, they weren’t going to a restaurant.

Maybe it was because this birthday carried a special meaning.

Or maybe because it was Zou Yang’s boyfriend… saying it that way felt a bit strange.

But honestly, even if it were a girlfriend’s birthday, they wouldn’t be this invested. It was highly unusual, so precisely because it was his boyfriend…

“So it’s settled. We head out the afternoon before, have a barbecue, and camp out,” Li Zhiyue summarized. “We celebrate the birthday the moment it hits midnight. As for the supplies… Wenrui, didn’t you say you edited a mushy video and photo montage? Don’t we need a projector for that?”

“Fan Jun has a projector,” Zou Yang said.

“Perfect then,” Li Zhiyue nodded. “We can book the barbecue spot directly. The only issue is they don’t have a ton of food options, so we should bring some of our own…”

“Got it covered,” Zhang Chuanlong clapped his hands.

“We need to ask the bakery for an insulated box and ice packs for the cake…” Liu Wenrui added.

“Got it covered,” Zhang Chuanlong clapped again.

“We can rent the tents, but if it gets cold at night, we need to bring our own sleeping bags,” Li Zhiyue said.

“I’ll buy those,” Zou Yang said.

Zhang Chuanlong didn’t say anything.

“Everything is pretty much covered now,” Zou Yang looked at him.

“Damn,” Zhang Chuanlong laughed, leaning back into his chair. After a moment, he sighed sentimentally. “This year we can still celebrate everyone’s birthday together, but next year might be different… we might not even be in the same city…”

The table fell quiet, a sudden wave of melancholy washing over them.

“It’s fine,” Liu Wenrui broke the silence. “If none of us can find a job by then, we can always just hang out.”

“Look at you, jinxing us already,” Li Zhiyue scoffed.

“Zou Yang will take care of us,” Zhang Chuanlong joked.

Zou Yang burst out laughing. “Deal.”

Time flew by when they were busy.

Between attending classes and finishing the calligraphy mounting—trimming the edges, applying the borders, adding the final backing, and sticking them to a wall to dry… well, technically, sticking them to the dorm’s full-length mirror and the side panels of the wardrobes… and finally polishing the paper and installing the hanging scrolls.

The afternoon before Fan Jun’s birthday, Liu Wenrui drove his dad’s car to campus. Zou Yang carefully loaded several scrolls and a flat box into the trunk.

By the time they were ready to leave, the trunk was packed tight. Between everyone’s gifts, a mountain of meat, a few sleeping bags, and massive bags of snacks, it was basically full even before they stopped to pick up the cake.

“He’s waiting for us by the road,” Zou Yang said, checking his phone.

“I see him,” Zhang Chuanlong pointed ahead. “Right there!”

Zou Yang looked through the windshield.

They had both been so busy lately that they barely saw each other. Seeing Fan Jun standing on the edge of the sidewalk now caused his heart to instantly race.

Fan Jun looked just like he always did—completely familiar in a T-shirt and cargo pants—but since the sun was still glaring, he was wearing a cap and sunglasses today.

It had been a long time since Zou Yang had seen Fan Jun wear a hat.

Ever since Fan Gang died, Fan Jun had stopped wearing caps entirely. Even when it was freezing and windy, he would just pull his hoodie up. It felt like a silent statement—after wearing a cap for over a decade, he just gave it up completely.

Seeing him in a cap again after all this time gave Zou Yang a strange, indescribable feeling, and he couldn’t help but smile.

He looked handsome.

Incredibly cool.

The kind of look that made Zou Yang want to tackle him, throw his arms around him, and just bite and kiss him all over.

Before the car even pulled up to him, Zou Yang rolled down the passenger window, leaned his head out, and let out a sharp, loud whistle.

Fan Jun, who had been staring blankly at the passing traffic, heard the whistle. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips before he even turned his head.

Liu Wenrui pulled the car up next to him, and Zou Yang jumped out.

“The gear…” Fan Jun reached out to load his things into the car.

Zou Yang lightly slapped his hand away before he could grab anything.

“Did you miss me?” Zou Yang asked.

“Yeah,” Fan Jun said, glancing toward the car.

“Say it like you mean it,” Zou Yang pressed.

Fan Jun looked at him. “I missed you. A lot.”

“Do you know how many days it’s been since we last saw each other?” Zou Yang asked.

“Four days,” Fan Jun said.

“Only four days and you missed me that much?” Zou Yang arched an eyebrow.

“I miss you whenever I can’t see you,” Fan Jun said. “It has nothing to do with time.”

“…Damn,” Zou Yang laughed. He glanced at the gear by Fan Jun’s feet. Aside from the projector, there was a sealed paper bag, which was obviously the gift. “Let’s go, throw the stuff in the trunk.”

As the two of them carried the things to the back of the car, the rest of the guys finally piled out.

“Brother Fan, you’re driving in a bit,” Liu Wenrui said, opening the trunk.

“Alright,” Fan Jun replied. He paused for a second, then added, “Thanks, guys.”

“Huh?” Liu Wenrui instantly got flustered. “What are you thanking us for…”

“We’re just using this as an excuse to hang out together,” Li Zhiyue smiled. “No need to thank us.”

Once everything was packed, Liu Wenrui slid into the back seat.

“Zou Yang,” Fan Jun called out, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “Did they buy gifts again?”

“Yeah, it’s your birthday. Of course there are going to be gifts,” Zou Yang whispered back.

“I’ve never given them anything for their birthdays,” Fan Jun said. “I don’t even know when their birthdays are…”

“Li Zhiyue is in August, Longlong is in October like me,” Zou Yang looked at him. “And Liu Wenrui is in December. But since you were ignoring me back then, we missed every single one of them.”

Fan Jun froze, completely quiet.

“So you owe them one, right?” Zou Yang said.

“Yeah,” Fan Jun looked at him. “Are you mad?”

“Not at all,” Zou Yang lightly brushed his hand against Fan Jun’s, then gave his fingers a gentle squeeze. “I’ve never been mad at you about that. It’s not like I’m completely unreasonable all the time.”

Fan Jun didn’t say anything; he just reached out and pulled him into a tight embrace.

Zou Yang closed his eyes and leaned into him.

They stayed like that until someone inside the car tapped the horn. Fan Jun finally let go, looking a bit embarrassed as he quickly walked over to the driver’s side.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt you two,” Liu Wenrui said from the middle of the back seat, crossing his arms. “But if we leave now, it’s still going to take an hour to get there. Any later and we’ll be setting up in the dark.”

“What kind of campsite doesn’t even have electricity?” Zou Yang said, buckling his seatbelt.

“If you two want to keep put on a show, you can get out of the car,” Liu Wenrui shot back.

“Drive,” Zou Yang smiled, gesturing with his chin toward Fan Jun.

“Alright,” Fan Jun started the car.

The sky was still light when they reached the campsite, though the sun was beginning to dip.

Since it wasn’t a weekend or a holiday, the place was practically empty. Aside from their car, there were only four sedans and an RV parked in the lot.

Looking over at the camping area in the distance, they could see about five or six tents set up, leaving plenty of open space for them.

This wasn’t the same place they had gone to for the previous barbecue, and it was somewhere Fan Jun had never been before.

Unlike last time, the water here wasn’t a lake, but a small stream cutting right through the middle of the grass. You could call it a small river too, since the water volume downstream looked pretty significant, but the section right in front of them was a shallow stream you could easily wade across.

It was beautiful. Without the harsh, direct sunlight, the entire landscape—the grass, the stream, the distant mountains, and the woods—was wrapped in a soft, gentle glow, offering a wide, soothing view that stretched far into the distance.

Li Zhiyue had already booked everything over the phone. By the time they arrived, the owner had already packed all their gear into a camping wagon. All they had to do was pull the wagon and find a spot to set up camp.

“Let’s go across the river,” Zhang Chuanlong said. “There’s no one over there.”

“Do you know why there’s no one over there?” Liu Wenrui asked.

Because normal people didn’t want to take off their shoes, get their feet wet, tread through the mud, wash off, wait for their feet to dry, and then put their shoes back on…

But they weren’t normal people; they were energetic college students who didn’t mind a hassle if it meant a better experience.

Zou Yang was a little different—he just wanted to find a secluded spot.

Taking off your shoes and wading across water wasn’t hard. The real challenge was walking barefoot over a bed of rocks while collectively lifting a heavy camping wagon.

“Why couldn’t we just carry the gear across separately and then pull the empty wagon through the water?” Liu Wenrui grumbled.

“Because we don’t have brains,” Zhang Chuanlong said.

“We’re already halfway across before you decide to ask,” Li Zhiyue noted. “You might as well have kept it to yourself.”

“Don’t make me laugh,” Zou Yang said. “If I laugh, I’ll lose my grip.”

“I can’t believe you still have the energy to laugh,” Liu Wenrui said, gritting his teeth as he strained. “My feet are practically shattering.”

“You can let go,” Fan Jun told him.

Liu Wenrui was stubborn. “No way. I’m not abandoning you guys…”

“You’re literally just hanging onto the wagon right now,” Li Zhiyue pointed out. “If you let go, it’ll instantly be twenty pounds lighter.”

“No way, I can’t make it across without holding onto something,” Liu Wenrui said.

Under the watchful eyes of the dozen or so people from the other campsites, the group stumbled and dragged the wagon and their massive pile of gear across the river.

Next up was pitching the tents. During their last camping trip, Zou Yang had spent the entire time lying down, but this time his legs were perfectly fine, and he quickly helped Fan Jun set up two large tents.

“Just two tents?” Zhang Chuanlong asked. “Where is the other person sleeping?”

“The two of them get one, and the three of us share the other,” Liu Wenrui explained.

“Why do we have to squeeze three people into one tent?” Zhang Chuanlong asked, crawling inside to inspect it.

“Because they’re a couple! Are you a couple with me or with Li Zhiyue?” Liu Wenrui rolled his eyes. “When they bought the sleeping bags, we got single ones and he got a double for himself. Do you want one of those too?”

Zhang Chuanlong didn’t say anything, just let out a series of clicks with his tongue.

“A double sleeping bag?” Fan Jun asked, smoothing out the moisture-proof mat inside their tent before glancing at the sleeping bag resting nearby.

“Yeah,” Zou Yang said, crawling in after him.

“What exactly are you…” Fan Jun looked at him, “planning to do?”

“Are you asking about right now, or in the middle of the night?” Zou Yang leaned in close.

“…Let’s start with right now,” Fan Jun said.

Zou Yang didn’t bother answering. He grabbed Fan Jun around the waist, tackled him onto the mat, and pinned him down, hovering directly over him.

Fan Jun’s eyes widened. He immediately grabbed Zou Yang’s hand just as it started slipping under his shirt, his voice a tense whisper: “People can see us!”

“Who would be clueless enough to look in here?” Zou Yang murmured, before leaning down to press his lips firmly against Fan Jun’s.

Fan Jun’s breath hitched for a second. He let go of Zou Yang’s hand, wrapped his arms tightly around his waist, and pulled him down even closer.