Indeed, just as Zou Yang said, Fan Jun’s current condition with his left hand wouldn’t severely impact his daily life. As long as people didn’t look too closely, no one would ever notice anything different about him.

He couldn’t manage fine motor movements, but he could grip and hold things; picking up items that weren’t too heavy wasn’t much of an issue, and if he absolutely had to throw a punch, he still could. He could raise his arm to a certain angle, though holding it under strain for too long would cause cramping or pain…

Yet all of these seemingly “not bad” compromises were built entirely on the fact that his physical capabilities before the injury had been far superior to those of an ordinary person. If his baseline physical state before had been merely that of an “average guy,” his current condition would have made it impossible for him to pass as looking even remotely “normal.”

If it were just a matter of adjusting to this change and drop in capability, it wasn’t something he couldn’t accept. From the day his memory began, he had always been different from the “ordinary people” around him; he was entirely capable of living quietly, companionably lonely, amidst a crowd.

All things considered, managing to escape from Fan Gang’s clutches twice and coming out alive was already a massive stroke of luck.

But it was precisely because of this that, even though he had clearly stepped into a brand-new life, he would look down only to find himself still shackled by an injury and pain that had no clear end in sight.

He wanted to move forward with Zou Yang—taking huge, unreserved strides to keep pace with him. To keep up with this person who stubbornly, time and again, saw right through him, and who repeatedly ripped open a horizon in his otherwise stagnant, heavy life.

But right now, every single step felt unsteady.

The heartache reflecting in Zou Yang’s eyes would burn him, whereas when Zou Yang actually lost his temper, Fan Jun conversely felt a strange, comforting sense of relief.

…A total psycho.

“Hey!” Zou Yang shouted from the passenger seat, “Red light!”

Fan Jun hastily slammed on the brakes, stopping just as the tires pressed over the white line. There were no cars ahead of them, and he hadn’t noticed the light hanging above at all.

“They actually have traffic lights here?”

“It’s a proper town after all,” Zou Yang said, pulling up the navigation map on his phone. “There are a whole bunch of them.”

“Ever since I got my license, I haven’t lost a single point or paid a fine,” Fan Jun noted.

“What,” Zou Yang glanced over at him, “are you saying you’re eager to experience it?”

Fan Jun smiled slightly. “No.”

“What were you thinking about? You completely spaced out just now,” Zou Yang asked.

“Nothing.” Fan Jun cast a glance at him.

“Suit yourself,” Zou Yang replied. “Keep your eyes on the light. Don’t sit there when it turns green and get cut off by someone else.”

“Mm.” Fan Jun fixed his eyes on the light ahead.

Despite the freezing weather, there were still quite a few people down by the lake. They weren’t there to play in the water; it was mostly families with nowhere else to go during the New Year break, bringing their kids along for a few days’ getaway.

There were plenty of bed-and-breakfasts and restaurants lining the lakeside. Driving down the road, the buildings facing the water all featured massive, floor-to-ceiling glass windows. The sun was slanting low now, casting a brilliant, blinding sheet of gold across the lake’s surface.

“Pull over for a second,” Zou Yang said, taking out his phone. “This is stunning.”

“Okay.” Fan Jun pulled the truck over to the curb.

The wind was biting. Aside from a few kids sprinting wildly across the lakeside pier and their borderline frantic parents, there were barely any tourists out on the road.

“Go stand over there.” Zou Yang raised his phone and pointed ahead.

“Stand where?” Fan Jun asked, walking in the direction of his gesture.

“Walk until you can’t go any further, right to the very edge.” Zou Yang leaned his back against the truck.

Fan Jun looked ahead. It was a dirt slope, fairly high, leading all the way down to the shoreline, though it would undoubtedly be slippery; further out, there were built-in stairs leading down.

“Are you sure?” Fan Jun asked.

“Cut the crap,” Zou Yang said.

“Alright.” Fan Jun turned around, walked forward, and began heading down the slope.

“Hey?” Zou Yang called out, and Fan Jun—with only his upper body left in the camera frame—came to a halt.

“Here?” Fan Jun asked.

“Holy crap, is that a drop-off slope?” Zou Yang burst out laughing.

“Obviously,” Fan Jun said with a smile. “The lake is clearly down below.”

“And you didn’t even bother telling me,” Zou Yang countered.

“You told me to walk until I couldn’t go any further. I can still keep going right now.”

“Since when are you this obedient?” Zou Yang looked at Fan Jun through the lens. Though the angle was bizarre and lacked any artistic merit whatsoever, he still pressed the shutter several times in rapid succession.

“Always,” Fan Jun said, looking back up at him. “If you tell me to… wouldn’t I just…”

Zou Yang paused, lowering his phone. “What?”

Fan Jun didn’t say anything; he just gave his left hand a little shake.

“You bastard!” Zou Yang reacted instantly, quickly scanning their surroundings. Seeing no one around, he pointed a finger at Fan Jun. “Get back up here!”

Laughing, Fan Jun scrambled back up the roadside in a few quick strides.

Zou Yang rushed over and threw his arms tightly around him.

“Whoa,” Fan Jun quickly wrapped his arms around him in return. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Zou Yang muttered, pressing close and rubbing his ear against Fan Jun’s. “I just… wanted to hold you.”

“Mm,” Fan Jun murmured, tightening his grip.

Zou Yang closed his eyes. It was distinctly palpable that the strength in Fan Jun’s left arm was nowhere near that of his right.

Sensing these details occasionally always left a bitter, heavy ache in Zou Yang’s chest. Yet, this discrepancy was something Fan Jun felt every single waking moment—accompanied by the nagging uncertainty of whether he would ever fully recover, or how long it would even take if he did…

“Are we still taking pictures?” Fan Jun asked against his ear. “If we’re just going to hold each other, let’s do it in the car. It’s too cold out here.”

Zou Yang laughed, loosening his embrace. “Yes, we are.”

He walked over to the edge of the dirt slope, looked around, and tapped a spot with his foot. “Stand right here.”

Fan Jun took his position.

Zou Yang retreated to the side of the truck. After snapping a few solo shots of Fan Jun, he began bustling around, trying to wedge and stabilize his phone against the truck to take a photo of them together.

“The sunset is definitely going to look incredible from here in a minute,” Zou Yang noted. “Just stay right there, I’m finding the right angle.”

“Mm.” Fan Jun stood in place.

He watched as Zou Yang climbed up onto the truck bed one moment, then threw open the door to lean half-paralyzed across the roof the next—the phone either yielding a terrible angle or lacking any structural support.

“We can wander around the town tomorrow, buy a tripod, and come back to take it,” Fan Jun said, noticing the tips of Zou Yang’s nose and ears flushing red from the wind.

“No,” Zou Yang refused to give up. “Tomorrow isn’t right now. Tomorrow is tomorrow.”

Fan Jun looked at him and said nothing more.

The sun went down incredibly fast, and within moments, it was already hovering right over the mountain peaks across the lake.

Zou Yang finally managed to prop the phone up at an ideal angle on the roof using a rock and the truck’s cross wrench.

“Hurry, hurry, hurry!” he jogged back over. “The setting sun is perfectly right behind us!”

Fan Jun slung an arm over his shoulder, and Zou Yang tilted his head in toward him. “Smile!”

Fan Jun offered a smile.

“One more,” Zou Yang raised his hand, “Smile.”

As Fan Jun went to raise his hand, he realized Zou Yang had habitually stood on his right side, raising his own right hand; Fan Jun’s left arm couldn’t reach the same height as Zou Yang’s.

After a split-second hesitation, he gently tugged Zou Yang over to his left side instead and raised his right arm.

Zou Yang swiftly raised his left hand. “Smile.”

Fan Jun smiled straight into the lens.

Zou Yang’s phone was set to auto-capture smiles, which essentially meant they had to keep grinning. To catch as many shots as possible, the two of them flashed a continuous barrage of goofy, bared-teeth smiles at the camera, completely blind to how the photos would actually turn out…

By the time the sun fully slipped behind the mountains, the golden-red hue on the lake gradually faded away. But turning around to look at the perimeter of the lakeside, the continuous rows of warm yellow lights mingling with various colorful holiday bulbs offered a completely different kind of beauty.

“Let’s just drive down the road and find any random place to eat,” Zou Yang said, hopping back into the truck. “I am freezing to death.”

“Mm.” Fan Jun got into the driver’s seat and rubbed his hands together; his fingers were entirely numb from the cold.

Yet, the feeling swelling inside him right now was something he had never experienced before—unfamiliar scenery, a deeply familiar person, a dash of novelty mixed with a tiny, peaceful hint of boredom. It was a very faint, very quiet, and intensely clear sensation of happiness.

There were countless places to grab a bite along the lake. During this season, there was no need to battle any crowds; they could walk into practically any establishment and get a meal.

They picked a random spot specializing in braised fish.

“Is this fish from the lake?” Zou Yang asked.

“Definitely not,” the owner replied with brutal honesty. “It’s from the reservoir, but it connects directly to this lake.”

“Works for me.” Zou Yang smiled and nodded, looking down to unlock his phone.

“Let me see.” Fan Jun leaned over.

Zou Yang placed the phone flat on the table, flipping through the photos one by one. Every single shot looked incredibly… hilarious.

That said, Zou Yang clearly had an eye for taking photos; his choice of background was excellent, and the framing of their angles was spot on. Flipping through the batch, there were definitely a handful of genuinely great ones.

“Tomorrow we’ll buy a tripod, and capturing the truck in the frame too will give it a much cooler vibe,” Zou Yang remarked.

“With that beat-up pickup of He Chuan’s that’s practically falling apart?” Fan Jun asked skeptically.

“That makes it feel even more like we’re drifting to the ends of the earth on the road,” Zou Yang argued. “One person, one… person, and one wrecked car.”

“Were you about to say ‘one person and a dog’ or ‘one person and a cat’?” Fan Jun looked at him knowingly.

Leaning back in his chair, Zou Yang laughed out loud. “No.”

“Then you could have just said ‘two people and a wrecked car’ and left it at that.”

“In the past,” Zou Yang’s laughter simmered down as he stared out the window at the lake, “I used to let my mind wander a lot. I imagined plenty of scenarios where I went off to drift alone, always completely by myself, intensely lonely—you know that exact feeling… ‘The universe is a fleeting inn for all living things…’ “

“I understood you perfectly right up until that last line came out,” Fan Jun observed.

“What?” Zou Yang turned his head to look at him.

“Right before that whole ‘universe and fleeting inn’ poetry popped out,” Fan Jun clarified.

“Screw you,” Zou Yang laughed, reaching across to pinch his cheek. “Jun-er.”

“Yeah?” Fan Jun answered.

“You are seriously adorable,” Zou Yang said.

“You’re the only person in the entire world who says that.” Fan Jun smiled.

“Right now, you’re my favorite person in the entire world,” Zou Yang said softly.

Fan Jun stared at him, completely speechless for a long moment.

Because there were very few patrons, their fish was served incredibly fast—a massive, piping-hot pot radiating steam. The owner stood by the table. “Would you like something to drink?”

“No thanks, I have to drive,” Fan Jun said.

“I can drink,” Zou Yang chimed in quietly.

“Don’t. You’ve been running around all day; drinking now will just give you a headache,” Fan Jun countered.

“Alright, fine.” Zou Yang didn’t press the matter.

The fish was incredibly fresh. It carried a slight, earthy river taste, but because the broth base was rich and flavorful, it was easily overlooked. They were mostly just starving; it felt like no time at all had passed since that bowl of noodles earlier… Regardless, the moment dusk settled, a person’s stomach just naturally began to growl like a conditioned reflex.

Halfway through the meal, He Chuan’s call came through.

Fan Jun answered it.

“Not bad, man,” He Chuan said over the line. “You really gave Old Li a proper shutdown.”

“He was looking for trouble out of nowhere,” Fan Jun replied.

“It was that nephew of his, right?” He Chuan let out a clicking laugh. “That kid is a total hothead. He graduated last year, couldn’t find a job, so he’s been tagging along with Old Li trying to prove himself. Don’t worry about him.”

“What do you mean don’t worry about him? He wanted to hit me,” Fan Jun said.

“He wanted to hit you, but you actually hit him,” He Chuan chuckled again. “Sucks that I missed it.”

“Perfect timing then, why don’t you come over? I’ll hit him again so you can watch,” Fan Jun proposed. “Anyway, Boss Li probably won’t let me inspect the goods now.”

“It won’t come to that,” He Chuan assured him. “That’s just how he is—loves to put on airs and act like a big shot. Since I didn’t show up personally, he was bound to make a fuss.”

“So what’s the plan? Am I still supposed to wait?” Fan Jun asked.

“He’ll contact you later tonight,” He Chuan said. “Just go inspect them. We buy in bulk and his overhead costs are high; once he gathers the goods, he won’t want to sit on them. Ultimately, our relationship boils down to this: he knows I won’t walk away, and I know he won’t refuse to sell.”

“Even if I head over, it’ll have to be tomorrow,” Fan Jun sighed. “It’s way too cold to head out in the dead of night.”

“Sure, keeping him waiting a bit is fine too,” He Chuan paused for a second. “By the way, let me ask—which shareholder did you bring along with you on this trip?”

Fan Jun cast a look at Zou Yang.

Zou Yang immediately leaned in close, pressing his ear right against the back of the phone.

“Zou Yang,” Fan Jun said.

“Since when is he my shareholder?” He Chuan asked.

“He’s my shareholder,” Fan Jun clarified.

“…Got it,” He Chuan replied. “Shareholder Zou happens to be on winter break anyway, so let him tag along for the ride, it’s fine. Old Li has some great tea over there.”

“He doesn’t know how to brew it; it’s all over-steeped garbage,” Fan Jun muttered dismissively.

“…Screw you,” He Chuan said before hanging up.

Once the call ended, Zou Yang leaned back against his chair and laughed for a good while.

“What are you laughing at?” Fan Jun asked.

“I don’t know.” Zou Yang was still beaming.

“Kid,” Fan Jun gestured to the pot, “hurry up and eat before the fish completely falls apart in the broth.”

“Mm.” Zou Yang picked up a piece of fish.

Boss Li didn’t call back immediately, deliberately dragging his feet for a while. It wasn’t until the two of them finished dinner and were sitting back in the truck that Fan Jun’s phone finally rang.

“Calling this late… maybe he was terrified of interrupting our dinner,” Zou Yang joked.

Fan Jun picked up. Whatever the person on the other end said, his response remained brief and direct: “Let’s make it tomorrow, Boss Li. I’m currently having dinner down by the lake, and heading over now would make it too late—I wouldn’t want to disrupt your rest… Yep, sounds good.”

“How is it?” Zou Yang asked.

“He wanted us to go over tonight. I said tomorrow, and he agreed.” Fan Jun let out a yawn.

“Tired?” Zou Yang looked over at him.

“Not really. Do you want to do a night tour of the lake?” Fan Jun glanced out the window.

“No way,” Zou Yang bundled his jacket tighter around himself, cranking up the truck’s heater. “Are you insane?”

Just past nine o’clock, the town had already gone incredibly quiet. With the freezing temperatures, there was no one out dancing in the squares; the entire street was completely still, and even the roadside restaurants had virtually all shuttered their doors.

Zou Yang suddenly felt like he and Fan Jun, sitting there in the truck, were the last two people left on Earth. They had crossed through barren wilderness and vast lakes, drifting through this lonely world, finally arriving at a deserted town.

…And then, miraculously, they managed to find an inn that still had working heat.

The room was blastingly warm, heated by both radiators and an air conditioner. Zou Yang felt like if he didn’t shed his heavy coat fast enough, he might actually roast alive.

Sprawling flat out onto the bed, he let out a long, deep exhale. Honestly, they hadn’t really done much of anything today, but lying down now made him realize just how exhausted he actually was.

By the time Fan Jun finished washing up and stepped out of the bathroom, Zou Yang was on the verge of drifting off to sleep.

“If you’re going to sleep, get under the covers properly,” Fan Jun said, giving him a gentle swat.

Zou Yang opened his eyes. The moment he saw Fan Jun’s face, still glistening with stray water droplets, his drowsiness vanished entirely—yet he didn’t feel completely awake either.

“I… haven’t washed up yet.” He pushed himself up and headed into the bathroom.

Even though they had just engaged in some decidedly less-than-innocent activities during the day, being enclosed together in this room now made him feel a sudden wave of self-consciousness. It was as if the late hours and absolute silence naturally carried a built-in sense of bashfulness.

When he finished brushing his teeth and stepped back into the bedroom, Fan Jun was standing in front of the television, clicking through channels with the remote.

“Is there anything good to watch?” he asked, throwing himself flat onto the bed once more.

“I’m looking. The channels are all completely hodge…” Fan Jun looked back at him, “…podge.”

“Mm.” Zou Yang stared up at the ceiling.

Fan Jun went silent.

The only sound in the room was the drone of the local news broadcasting from the television. Zou Yang felt like he hadn’t watched regular TV in a hundred years, and it had to have been at least two hundred since he’d last heard that distinct cadence of local news reporting.

Fan Jun walked over to the edge of the bed.

“Hmm?” Zou Yang looked up at him.

Fan Jun didn’t say a word. He brought one knee up onto the mattress, leaning over to look down at him.

Zou Yang didn’t make another sound either, feeling his breathing instantly start to lose its steady rhythm.

Fan Jun stared at him for a few moments longer before slowly lying down beside him.

Just as Zou Yang went to turn his head to look at him, Fan Jun shifted his weight, shifting half of his body over him, his hand reaching out simultaneously to slide the glasses off Zou Yang’s face.

“I thought you were tired,” Zou Yang murmured, turning his head slightly.

Fan Jun still didn’t speak. In the exact moment Zou Yang turned his head, Fan Jun captured his lips in a kiss, his hand slipping beneath his clothes to find his waist.

The ceiling light overhead was blindingly bright. As the glare hit his eyes, creating a dizzying blur, Zou Yang closed them.

Fan Jun’s hand traced along his waist toward his back, the heat radiating from his palm acting like a small, concentrated flame—burning from the side of his waist to his back, tracing up the line of his spine until it reached the back of his neck.

It ignited the trail of kisses Fan Jun was now pressing against the side of his throat.

The sound of ragged breathing hovered right against his ear, so close that it continuously struck a raw, deeply sensitive nerve inside Zou Yang. He reached up to lock his arms around Fan Jun, pulling him down with a fierce, almost desperate intensity. It was slightly unhinged, as if only by holding on this hard, feeling this deeply, could he truly anchor the reality of the sensation.

“Do you want to try using my right hand?” Fan Jun whispered raspyly into his ear.

The slightly husky timber of his voice felt like a small, textured burr rolling from the edge of his ear straight down into the depths of his body.

Before he could even process the words, Fan Jun’s hand had already slid past the waistband of his trousers. “Or… something else.”

The intense wave of contact that registered the very next second felt like a sudden, localized explosion—pulsing, trembling, and sending a fine, vibrating hum coursing through his entire body.

Zou Yang tilted his head back slightly, letting out a barely audible, low gasp.

In the next heartbeat, Fan Jun bit down against his throat, his teeth scraping past his neck down to his collarbone, moving past his hitched-up shirt. Kisses rained down across his chest, alternating between soft presses and sharp nips as they traveled downward…

Beneath the skin, right between the muscles, Fan Jun’s scorching breath swept across his lower abdomen, leaving a trail of fierce, shivering tremors everywhere it touched…