The natural light outside was a bit dimmer than when they had first arrived, though it was still clear enough to make out their surroundings.

But the exact moment Zou Yang leaned in to kiss him, everything else ceased to exist.

The scenery outside the tent door vanished; there was only the blurred silhouette of Zou Yang right in front of him. The ambient chatter of the crowd and the gentle babble of the creek faded away; the only sound left in his ears was Zou Yang’s hurried breath.

Even the fresh scent of earth and grass permeating the open air dissolved. With every breath he took, there was only Zou Yang’s scent—the kind of presence that could intoxicate him in an instant…

In this single second, the entire world was reduced to just the two of them.

Everything he saw, heard, smelled, and touched was entirely Zou Yang.

Warmth clashed with a faint chill between interlaced teeth, their heartbeats sinking into a flawless, unified rhythm.

Fingertips digging into skin traced down along the waistline, inch by inch…

But it came to a grinding halt.

When Zou Yang’s lips pulled away, Fan Jun felt a momentary wave of dazed confusion. He instinctively tried to follow the warmth back, but Zou Yang placed a firm hand against his forehead, holding him in place.

“Hmm?” Fan Jun let out a low, questioning murmur.

“There are people right outside,” Zou Yang’s voice was barely a whisper.

“…Hmm?” Fan Jun was still catching his breath.

“Hold it in,” Zou Yang murmured against his ear.

It took a few agonizing seconds before Fan Jun finally closed his eyes, squeezing a single word through his teeth: “…Damn it.”

Zou Yang straightened up, looking down at him. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re seriously asking me that?” Completely helpless, Fan Jun remained lying down without moving, his gaze dropping down to sweep over him.

“What are you looking at? Of course there’s a reaction,” Zou Yang gave his trousers a casual tug. “If I didn’t have a reaction to that, I’d be completely broken.”

Fan Jun averted his gaze. After a brief pause, he simply couldn’t contain it anymore and burst out laughing. “Zou Yang, I am seriously at your mercy.”

“We didn’t have enough time anyway; I was just looking for a little thrill.” Zou Yang shimmyed toward the tent opening, purposefully sticking an arm out into the open to signal to the world that they were currently behaving with absolute innocence.

“Yeah,” Fan Jun let out a long sigh, pushing himself up into a sitting position. “You’re psycho.”

“Did you like it?” Zou Yang asked.

“I loved it,” Fan Jun said.

When Zou Yang stepped out of the tent, Li Zhiyue was holding a mounting pole for the hanging lantern, attempting to jam it into the ground. “Do you know how to hook up a battery? Didn’t we rent a portable battery block from the site owner? We need it for both the lights and the projector…”

“No idea, I’ll take a look in a bit,” Zou Yang replied. Watching the delicate scholar Li Zhiyue blindly stabbing against a solid rock for ages, he reached out and took the pole from his hands. “Li Zhiyue, go get your eyes checked.”

“What?” Li Zhiyue blinked, catching on quickly as he bent down to inspect the ground. “Did I stab a rock?”

“You were trying to drive it directly into a patch of crushed gravel,” Zou Yang sighed, moving the pole about half a meter to the side and plunging it effortlessly into the soft dirt. “Where’s the battery block?”

“Wenrui has it,” Li Zhiyue stared at the pole. “Is it really that effortless?”

“Yeah,” Zou Yang murmured.

Li Zhiyue hesitated for two seconds, gripped the pole, and tried to pull it out to re-test the resistance. It didn’t budge a single millimeter.

“What are you trying to prove?” Zou Yang asked, amused.

“Never mind,” Li Zhiyue abandoned his grand plan to uproot and replant it. “We delicate scholars simply lack the raw strength to pull stakes. You martial artists, on the other hand…”

Zou Yang let out a sigh. “Who tries to pull a stake by gripping it all the way at the top? How do you expect to leverage any force from up there?”

“Go hook up the battery, Mr. Martial Artist.” Li Zhiyue held onto the pole for support.

Zou Yang squatted down in front of the battery block, joining Liu Wenrui and Zhang Chuanlong, who had already been crouched there studying it for a significant amount of time.

“Can’t quite make heads or tails of it, can we?” Liu Wenrui noted.

“Did the owner provide an instruction manual?” Zhang Chuanlong asked. “Shouldn’t there be a manual for this kind of hardware?”

“Who provides a detailed manual for a rented battery block? Besides, I didn’t really pay attention when he explained how to operate it,” Liu Wenrui confessed. “I figured, between the five of us, how hard could it possibly be to hook up a single battery?”

Zhang Chuanlong turned his head to look at Zou Yang.

Zou Yang stared blankly at the battery for a few silent seconds. “Isn’t it literally just a matter of plugging the cords straight into the outlets?”

“But look here, every single socket has this tiny round cap over it. Is it supposed to…” Just as Zhang Chuanlong was speaking, Fan Jun’s hand reached past them and casually flicked the small round cap open.

“It’s a cigarette lighter socket,” Fan Jun said.

“Have you operated one of these before?” Zhang Chuanlong looked up at him.

“No,” Fan Jun replied. “Flicking it open to check takes a fraction of a second…”

“We were just terrified of getting shocked,” Liu Wenrui reasoned.

“Weren’t you terrified of looking foolish?” Fan Jun countered.

“Hey!” Liu Wenrui whipped his head around to glare at him.

“…There’s no live current exposed,” Fan Jun added calmly. “I already tested it.”

Squatting beside them, Zou Yang spent the next several minutes thoroughly enjoying the show, laughing uncontrollably.

“Come on, step right up,” Liu Wenrui snagged a folding chair and set it down right next to him. “Have a seat and take your sweet time laughing.”

The countryside was uniform in its behavior—the exact moment the sun dipped below the horizon, the surroundings darkened at a visible, rapid pace, leaving a hazy, gray landscape that felt slightly unsettling.

The moment the lights flickered on, a collective sigh of relief seemed to pass through the group.

The illumination was incredibly bright; the two lanterns were more than enough to completely light up both the barbecue grill and the tent area.

Across the creek, the occupants of the other campsites began switching on their lights as well. In an instant, both banks of the water were brilliantly illuminated, creating an incredibly vibrant, lively atmosphere.

Fan Jun sparked the fire in the barbecue grill. “Are we strictly having barbecue for dinner tonight?”

“Who said that?” Liu Wenrui countered, reaching into their gear to pull out a tote bag and two heavy-duty insulated thermoses. “We have proper staple foods too.”

Fan Jun recognized those specific thermoses in a heartbeat. Back when Zou Yang and the guys had abruptly stormed into his hospital room, they had been carrying these exact containers.

A sudden wave of warmth pricked the rims of his eyes.

“Our campus cafeteria’s signature steamed buns and fried rice,” Zou Yang introduced beside him. “The two absolute best staple dishes they make, especially the fried rice.”

“Yeah,” Fan Jun nodded softly.

“What’s wrong?” Zou Yang tilted his head, studying his face intently.

“Nothing,” Fan Jun smiled.

“You recognized the thermoses, didn’t you?” Zou Yang’s lips curved into a knowing grin. “Impressive memory, Jun-er.”

Fan Jun let out a gentle, soft laugh.

“I swear I didn’t plan that on purpose,” Zou Yang said, giving him a playful swat on the backside.

“Mmhmm,” Fan Jun picked up a handful of meat skewers and lined them up neatly across the grill grate.

Zou Yang gave his backside another light pinch.

Fan Jun offered him a brief glance.

“Hmm?” Zou Yang tapped him one more time.

“Have you been drinking already?” Fan Jun asked.

“Not yet. Just wait until I actually have a few drinks, then you’ll see,” Zou Yang teased.

Once the first round of meat was perfectly grilled, the group gathered around the small folding table. The moment the alcohol was poured, that classic, cozy roadside barbecue stall vibe instantly clicked into place.

“Should someone say a few words?” Zhang Chuanlong raised his cup. “Or are we diving straight in?”

“I’ll deliver a brief speech,” Liu Wenrui volunteered. “An outpouring of genuine emotion…”

“Let’s hear it,” Zou Yang encouraged.

“Tonight, even though we’re technically gathered here to celebrate Brother Fan’s birthday…” Liu Wenrui raised his cup high. “And even though the rest of us see each other practically every single day… the reality is that opportunities to make such a grand production out of going on a trip like this are going to become fewer and farther between. So… first and foremost, we need to thank Brother Fan for giving us the perfect excuse to come out and play like this.”

“…You’re welcome,” Fan Jun offered.

“And secondly…” Liu Wenrui continued.

“There’s more?” Zhang Chuanlong was genuinely surprised.

“That was just the introduction to establish the framework,” Liu Wenrui shot him a look.

“It’s a birthday toast and you’re treating it like a thesis defense?” Zhang Chuanlong was thoroughly bewildered.

“Let him speak,” Li Zhiyue grinned, highly entertained.

” Zou Yang.” Liu Wenrui fixed his gaze on him.

“Yo,” Zou Yang quickly hoisted his cup. “Why are you calling me out directly?”

“Fan Jun.” Liu Wenrui turned his eyes to Fan Jun.

“Yeah,” Fan Jun smiled, raising his cup in sync.

“The two of you… it hasn’t been easy,” Liu Wenrui said, looking between them. “The kind of heavy trials you’ve both had to navigate are things average folks like us might not encounter in three lifetimes. Obviously, none of us want to encounter them… but you did…”

“Stop talking in circles and get to the point,” Li Zhiyue prompted.

“You guys moved forward…” Liu Wenrui caught himself mid-sentence, following Li Zhiyue’s lead before rolling his eyes at him. He paused to reflect for two seconds. “It hasn’t been easy… and I don’t just mean moving forward wasn’t easy! What I mean is, it wasn’t easy for the two of you to finally end up together. A while back, Fan Jun, I don’t know exactly what state you were in—it definitely couldn’t have been pleasant—but the rest of us were watching Zou Yang day in and day out. Even though he never uttered a single extra word to us about it—not a single syllable, seriously—we could see it plain as day… Man, it was just… there are no words for it, it was heartbreaking…”

Fan Jun didn’t say a word; he simply turned his head to look at Zou Yang.

Zou Yang used his cup to partially shield his face, silently mouthing a single sentence:

It wasn’t that tragic.

Fan Jun offered a soft smile.

Is that so?

Yet Liu Wenrui’s voice had already grown thick with emotion as he spoke.

“But everything is perfectly fine now.” Liu Wenrui took a steady gulp of his drink, collecting himself.

“How did you end up drinking half the toast by yourself first?” Zhang Chuanlong noted.

“You shut up,” Liu Wenrui raised his cup even higher. “Everything is perfectly fine now. I just hope the two of you can continue to celebrate your birthdays together like this, forever…”

He fell into a sudden silence. Just as everyone assumed he was about to deliver another grand sentiment, he threw his head back and drained the remaining alcohol in a single shot, completely bypassing the collective toast.

Left with no choice, Li Zhiyue hurriedly hoisted his own cup. “To matching the inseparable mandarin ducks in life, envying… the pairs of gents rather than the immortals themselves.”

Everyone brought their cups together in the center, clinking them with a resounding cheer.

“Wait, wait, wait…” Frantic, Liu Wenrui hurriedly splashed a bit more alcohol into his empty cup, chasing down the others to clink them individually in a full loop.

As they were drawing their hands back, Zou Yang gave Fan Jun’s cup another distinct, firm tap. He applied enough force that the liquid inside Fan Jun’s cup nearly sloshed over the rim.

Fan Jun looked at him, a genuine smile breaking across his face.

Zou Yang threw his head back and took a solid swallow.

“Let’s dig in,” Li Zhiyue announced with a wave of his hand.

Fan Jun transferred the freshly grilled skewers from the rack and laid them onto the center plate.

“Let’s grill the steamed buns; I’m starving and desperately need some proper carbs to line my stomach,” Liu Wenrui requested.

“How do you expect to grill a standard steamed bun?” Zou Yang asked.

“Grilled mantou, have you seriously never eaten it before?” Liu Wenrui countered.

“Are those two things even remotely the same concept?!” Zou Yang sighed.

“They’re the exact same concept right now; what else are we supposed to do with cold buns?” Liu Wenrui remained entirely resolute.

Zhang Chuanlong stood up, retrieved the buns from the tote bag, and lined them up one by one across the barbecue grate.

“They’re going to char,” Fan Jun noted, picking up an oil brush and applying a protective, glossy layer of oil all over the surfaces of the buns.

“Fan Jun, you know how to cook proper meals, right?” Liu Wenrui asked.

“…I suppose I know a little bit, I can manage a few standard dishes,” Fan Jun replied.

“Then you’re already miles ahead of Zou Yang. His entire culinary repertoire consists solely of scrambled eggs with tomatoes,” Liu Wenrui said, letting out a dramatic sigh. “Then again, he’s still miles ahead of us; the rest of us can’t cook a single damn thing.”

“Next time, let’s just go over to your place to eat,” Zhang Chuanlong suggested, happily tearing into a skewer. “Brother Fan can cook up a feast for us.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Fan Jun nodded with a warm smile.

“You really don’t treat yourself like an outsider at all, do you?” Li Zhiyue stared at Zhang Chuanlong.

“Why should I? Aren’t the two of them a couple?” Zhang Chuanlong reasoned plainly. “There are literally no outsiders here.”

Li Zhiyue paused for a few silent beats before offering him a solitary round of applause. “Brilliantly said.”

Fan Jun spent the next ten minutes continuously brushing oil onto those steamed buns, even using a skewer to poke a series of tiny venting holes into them. Finally, they were fully cooked through. They didn’t quite possess the crispy, delicate crust Liu Wenrui had envisioned—the outer skin turned out rather dense and firm—but the interiors were at least piping hot.

The guys tossed the hot buns back and forth between their hands to let the steam dissipate before carefully peeling away the outer skin layer.

“This is actually pretty fun,” Fan Jun said in a low voice.

“When Liu Wenrui’s birthday rolls around, we should absolutely come out for another trip like this,” Zou Yang suggested. “We’ll make sure Li Zhiyue and Zhang Chuanlong don’t head back home early; after all, it’s our very last summer break.”

“You’ll be entering the workforce full-time next year,” Fan Jun noted, a sudden wave of sentiment washing over him.

“Yeah,” Zou Yang nodded. Noticing that Fan Jun had already perfectly peeled the outer skin off the bun in his hands, he casually handed his own unpeeled one across the table.

Fan Jun blinked in surprise, smoothly exchanging the items. He took Zou Yang’s bun and naturally set to work peeling it for him. “So… do you actually want to enter that specific field?”

“Of course,” Zou Yang said. “The assets my dad left behind… they serve as a solid safety net, I suppose. But I want to build a life that is entirely my own.”

“Mmhmm,” Fan Jun smiled, taking a solid bite out of his bun. “The pork filling is exceptional.”

“Tastes incredible, right?” Zou Yang looked at him. “It’s pure meat filling; if you show up to the cafeteria even a few minutes late, they’re entirely cleaned out.”

“It’s delicious,” Fan Jun agreed, taking another bite.

“Don’t move.” Zou Yang swiftly whipped out his phone.

With his mouth still full, Fan Jun froze in place, staring blankly at him.

Zou Yang raised his phone and snapped a quick photo. He immediately looked down, zooming in on the image to inspect the details. “You are seriously adorable, Jun-er.”

“What is wrong with you?” Fan Jun chuckled, shaking his head as he continued eating his bun.

With a solid baseline of steamed buns and fried rice in their stomachs, the group could finally settle into a relaxed rhythm, chatting casually while slowly turning the skewers over the heat.

Zou Yang had spent the evening completely baffled as to why everyone was so ravenous. It wasn’t until he checked the time after taking the photo that he realized they had been so caught up in the lively atmosphere that they hadn’t actually done much of anything, yet the night had flown by.

The main reason was that the crowd across the creek had maintained an incredibly boisterous, energetic presence the entire night.

For the remainder of the evening, his eyes kept tracking the digital clock on his phone screen.

He would chat for a few minutes, check the time, chat a bit more, and check it once again.

“When the time comes, are you planning to live in that villa or sell it off?” Liu Wenrui asked.

“No idea,” Zou Yang pondered. “Honestly, I don’t even know how much it could fetch right now. Lawyer Cao mentioned that the interior construction isn’t entirely completed—they’ve only sorted out the basic plumbing, electrical layout, doors, and window frames.”

“If you’re planning to sell, it’s actually much easier to move in that specific state. Having a finished interior can sometimes make it harder to sell,” Li Zhiyue noted. “If a buyer doesn’t like the style, they have to spend a fortune stripping it all down.”

“Mmhmm,” Zou Yang murmured in agreement. In any case, he currently didn’t possess the disposable funds required to finish the renovations anyway. Even if it were fully completed, he genuinely didn’t want to live there; the entire concept just felt incredibly awkward to him.

After they had chatted for a while longer, Li Zhiyue gave him a subtle chin lift, pointing significantly toward his phone screen.

Zou Yang caught the hint and glanced down at the time; it was mere minutes away from midnight.

“Sit right here and wait for me,” he whispered directly against Fan Jun’s ear before standing up.

Liu Wenrui caught the cue instantly, rising to join him as they walked over to the camping wagon together.

The two of them carefully retrieved the birthday cake from the insulated bag. They had packed it to the brim with ice packs, and the temperature control had held up beautifully; the cake still maintained its pristine, original shape.

This time, Zou Yang had hand-selected a small, heart-shaped cake. The design was exceptionally minimalist—a clean white heart adorned with what looked like sugar paste sculpted into a vibrant red wrapping ribbon and a delicate bow.

There were no written characters on it, only two small, distinct custom symbols: a pair of ram horns and a small sword. Because the bakery simply couldn’t replicate a flawless rendition of a Yazi biting a sword on such a small scale, they had to simplify the design.

Looking at it now, it was actually incredibly endearing.

Working together in a frantic scurry, the two of them securely planted the candles. With exactly one minute left on the clock, Zou Yang struck a match to light them, shielding the flames with his body as he turned his back to Fan Jun to hold the platter securely.

The exact second the clock struck midnight, Li Zhiyue tapped his phone screen, and the familiar notes of the Happy Birthday melody began to play. Simultaneously, Zhang Chuanlong ripped the power plug out of the battery block. The entire campsite plunged into absolute darkness, leaving only the warm, flickering glow of the two candles dancing atop the cake.

The ambient chatter from the crowd across the creek seemed to gradually quiet down as well.

As Zou Yang joined the guys in singing the song, he turned around to step forward, only to realize he literally couldn’t see a single thing underfoot.

“Happy birthday to… I can’t see the ground,” he sang, tentatively testing the terrain with his foot as he shuffled forward. “Holy crap, happy birthday to you… I literally can’t—”

Fan Jun’s phone screen suddenly illuminated, casting a bright beam of light directly across the grass beneath his feet.

Guided by that steady patch of light, Zou Yang successfully navigated the final few steps and set the cake down onto the table right in front of Fan Jun.

Fan Jun stared down at the cake, then raised his eyes to look up at Zou Yang. Zou Yang’s features were beautifully outlined by the dancing amber candlelight, and he found himself momentarily captivated by the sight.

It wasn’t until the final notes of the birthday song faded out—and a few onlookers from the opposite bank actually began clapping and cheering along—that he snapped out of his daze. He closed his eyes, made a silent wish, and gently blew out the candles.

“Happy birthday!” the group shouted in unison.

“Thank you guys,” Fan Jun said, a bright smile lighting up his face.

“Hold on,” Zou Yang turned around to head back toward the camping wagon. “I have gifts for you.”

Zhang Chuanlong promptly re-connected the power cord to light up the campsite once more.

“An absolute mountain of gifts,” Liu Wenrui clarified.

Fan Jun smiled silently, watching as Zou Yang returned from the wagon balancing three long document tubes and one large, flat box.

There were actually four separate gifts?

“We won’t unwrap all of them tonight,” Zou Yang said, approaching the table and setting the items down onto the surface, which Li Zhiyue had already cleared with lightning speed. “Just pick one to unwrap right now to mark the occasion, and you can open the rest once we get back home.”

“Okay,” Fan Jun nodded. After a moment of hesitation, he reached out and picked up one of the slightly smaller document tubes.

Zou Yang shot him a look.

There was a subtle, incredibly complex trace of emotion flickering behind his eyes.

Fan Jun paused. “Is this one okay to open?”

“…Yeah, go ahead,” Zou Yang nodded.

Fan Jun could feel his hands trembling slightly with anticipation. He had to yank at the cap twice before it finally popped open.

Tucked safely inside was a traditional hanging scroll.

There was distinctive ink calligraphy written across the paper.

“Did you write this yourself?” Fan Jun couldn’t help but ask first. He was well aware that Zou Yang possessed a talent for painting and that his standard handwriting was exceptional, but he had never anticipated receiving a formal piece of calligraphy like this. It was an incredible surprise.

“Yeah,” Zou Yang confirmed.

Fan Jun slowly unrolled the scroll.

I (我).

The very first character was absolutely stunning. He had no idea how it would rank in the eyes of a professional calligrapher, but to him, it was hands-down the most beautiful writing he had ever laid eyes on.

Want to marry (要娶).

Fan Jun froze entirely.

In a flash of realization, he instantly understood exactly why Zou Yang had given him that incredibly complicated look when he had initially selected this specific tube.

“You…” He looked up at Zou Yang.

“Open the rest!” Liu Wenrui urged, pointing a frantic finger at the scroll, an unstoppable grin plastered across his face.

Fan Jun unrolled the scroll completely, flattening it out across the table.

I want to marry Fan Jun (我要娶樊均).

Fan Jun never in a million years could have anticipated seeing such a blunt, modern declaration written out on something so traditionally elegant and refined.

He stared at it blankly for several seconds, completely blindsided, before he simply couldn’t contain it anymore. He turned his head away and burst into a fit of laughter.

The rest of the guys instantly dissolved into roaring laughter right along with him.

“Do you like it?” Zou Yang asked.

“Yeah,” Fan Jun nodded through his laughter. “I love it. I seriously love it so much.”

“Then it was worth it,” Zou Yang said, sniffing slightly as he set to work carefully rolling the scroll back up. “Let’s save the rest to look at when we get back home.”

“The others…” Fan Jun leaned in closer, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Are they all…?”

“No,” Li Zhiyue chimed in, still thoroughly amused. “You somehow managed to single out the absolute most explosive one on the very first try.”

“How am I this incredibly lucky at picking?” Fan Jun marvelled.

“It’s called telepathy,” Zou Yang replied with a playful arch of his brow, securely sliding the scroll back into its protective tube.

“Thank you,” Fan Jun said, holding his gaze.

Zou Yang didn’t say a word, simply staring back into his eyes.

“I seriously…” Fan Jun murmured softly, “I never expected this. It’s an incredible surprise.”

“Is it genuinely a pleasant surprise?” Zou Yang smiled.

“Mmhmm,” Fan Jun nodded firmly.

“He spent half a month working on that,” Liu Wenrui revealed. “He went through well over ten thousand scrapped drafts before he finally salvaged these select few.”

“Keep your exaggerations within reasonable limits,” Zou Yang pointed out.

“If I’m already going out of my way to exaggerate, why on earth would I place limits on it…” Liu Wenrui tsked.

“I also…” Fan Jun stood up. “…have something to give to you.”

“Yeah,” Zou Yang nodded, completely bypassing any attempt to play it cool. He had been waiting for this specific gift for an incredibly long time.

“It’s…” Fan Jun walked over to the camping wagon, retrieved the paper tote bag containing the mask, and brought it back over to the table before pulling up a chair. He reached inside and pulled out a solid container. “I made it myself… but I had to learn the craft entirely from scratch while making it, so it might not be… perfect, but…”

Zou Yang stared at the container. It was a metal box—a pristine, solid iron box completely devoid of any branding or logos.

“Did you craft this box yourself too?” he asked.

“…Yeah,” Fan Jun said, sliding the box across the table toward him. “The box itself was simple enough. The item inside was the real challenge; it required an immense amount of time and precision, which is why it took so long to finish…”

“I knew you were keeping a secret from me to forge a gift.” Zou Yang could feel his own voice trembling.

As he set to work prying open the lid, his hands were shaking with sheer impatience.

The exact second the lid popped off and the contents inside came into clear view, Zou Yang went completely silent.

The guys standing around the table instantly fell dead silent right along with him.

“This is…” Fan Jun rubbed his hands together nervously. “…a mask. I adapted it… using that profile avatar you drew for me a while back.”

Zou Yang didn’t utter a single syllable, carefully lifting the mask out of the box.

It was a half-face mask meticulously forged from solid iron. It perfectly replicated the upper section of the Yazi illustration he had drawn, spanning smoothly from the forehead down to the bridge of the nose. Suspended from the outer corner of the eye, that specific olivine gemstone hung from a delicate chain, catching the ambient light and swaying slightly with the micro-movements of his hand.

The metalwork couldn’t be described as flawlessly refined, but it vastly exceeded any possible expectations. He had known Fan Jun was working on a gift, but he never could have dreamed it would reach this level of artistry.

Zou Yang felt a powerful, sharp sting pierce his nose, and a sudden wave of intense heat flooded his eyes.

The exact instant the tears threatened to spill over, he ripped off his glasses, tossed them carelessly onto the table surface, and raised the mask, pressing it securely over his face as he locked his gaze onto Fan Jun.

“This is last year’s birthday gift,” Fan Jun said quietly. “It’s terribly overdue, but… I hope it can protect you.”

Zou Yang still didn’t say a word. He stood up, closing the distance between them.

Fan Jun remained seated in his chair, looking up at him. “Zou Yang…”

Without a sound, Zou Yang stepped forward and directly straddled his lap.

Fan Jun froze, completely caught off guard.

“Oh, damn,” Liu Wenrui instantly slapped a hand over Zhang Chuanlong’s eyes. “Cover your eyes, kiddo, this is restricted content.”

The outdoor folding chair sat incredibly low to the ground. When Zou Yang sank his weight onto Fan Jun’s lap, his knees planted directly into the grass.

But he couldn’t care less about any of that. He placed a hand against Fan Jun’s forehead, applying a firm, deliberate pressure to tilt his head back.

The exact second Fan Jun’s face angled upward, Zou Yang crashed his lips down into a powerful, deep kiss.