Lin Congzhi spent six days packing his luggage. Before leaving, he went over gallery business with Zhang Miao and assigned some tasks to Xiao Chen.

At eight o’clock in the evening, he took the high-speed rail with Lin Lingyu to another city to catch their flight.

Years ago, when Lin Lingyu was dating her girlfriend, he had accidentally stumbled upon them once. Lin Lingyu had tried to avoid being seen, but it was an unexpected moment. At that time, Lin Congzhi was fifteen or sixteen—confused and curious.

Lin Lingyu had been worried this might impact or sway him, but she patiently explained everything to him, helping him understand human diversity and how feelings aren’t bounded by gender.

Because of this, Lin Congzhi later developed a firm acceptance of his own sexual orientation. He felt no panic or shame. In fact, when he first got together with Xiao Jingwen, he had even asked him quite seriously: Are you sure you’re gay? Do you have a clear understanding of yourself?

Lin Congzhi accepted Lin Lingyu’s sexual orientation very well. Back then, he had smiled and said: Most people are happy enough with one mom. I’ll get to have two.

He quite liked Hannah—a gorgeous Italian woman whose eyes, whenever she looked at his mother, seemed like a camera lens set to a wide aperture, blurring out the rest of the world. That infatuated gaze always gave him an odd sense of familiarity.

There were still five days left before the wedding. Same-sex marriage was legal in Spain, and the moment the plane touched down at Seville Airport, just looking at the sunshine outside made Lin Congzhi feel the incoming wave of heat.

Lin Lingyu smiled: “Looks like it’s 35°C today.”

“…” Lin Congzhi was speechless. “I kind of want to head back home already.”

Hannah met them at the airport, first giving Lin Lingyu a tight hug, then wrapping her arms around Lin Congzhi. Hannah’s first line was, “Long time no see,” and her second was, “Wear your bag across your chest; there are a lot of pickpockets at the airport.”

Almost the exact moment the plane’s landing gear touched the tarmac, Xiao Jingwen sent a WeChat message asking if he had arrived safely. His phone had no signal yet at the time. Since he was only staying in Spain until the wedding day, he didn’t plan on buying a local SIM card.

After connecting to the airport’s public Wi-Fi to reply with a brief “Arrived,” he said goodbye to Hannah and his mother and went to rest at his hotel.

Seville was truly scorching; passersby on the streets had arms burned bright red. On his first day, Lin Congzhi hid in his hotel room the entire time. Hot and exhausted, he slept straight through the day and night.

It wasn’t until past three o’clock the next afternoon that he finally coaxed himself out of bed. The sun baked the hotel door handle so hot it was painful to grip, so he decided to head out to buy some ice cream.

It had been over two years since his last visit to Seville, and he barely remembered his way around. In his memory, an ice cream shop sat nearby, and he used to love their raspberry jam.

There was a line at the shop, and Lin Congzhi happened to end up standing right under the blazing sun, barely two steps away from the shade of the awning. The queue wasn’t moving at all, leaving him feeling utterly desperate.

On top of that, his phone couldn’t connect to the shop’s Wi-Fi.

Overhearing the people in front of him complaining, it seemed only one clerk was working today, which explained the crawl.

He felt a bit regretful, but having already lined up, he glanced back to see that the queue behind him had stretched out significantly in that short span.

Under the scorching sun, the ice cream shop was naturally packed.

If that wasn’t enough, having no network made standing there painfully awkward. Positioned right between the hotel behind him and the ice cream shop ahead, he sat at the boundary of both public Wi-Fi ranges, unable to connect to either.

Waiting in line without a phone to play on was genuine torture.

Lin Congzhi felt lightheaded from the sun, missing the rain for the very first time.

That’s how people were—wishing for sun when it rained continuously, but praying for dark clouds when the sun hung high.

Buzz.

His phone vibrated slightly. He was surprised since he had no internet. Looking down, he realized his phone had automatically connected to someone’s personal hotspot.

Certain memories were kept safe by iCloud. Even if he changed phones, the synced cloud data remembered that hotspot password, and whenever they came close enough… they reconnected.

He gripped his phone with subtle pressure. Typically, a personal hotspot reached a radius of about 20 meters, meaning this person was currently within 20 meters of him.

The voices of the crowd around him gradually faded into the background. Within those 20 meters, a radio frequency signal linked them together.

By rights, Xiao Jingwen should only be arriving on the wedding day. Even though the summer auction had ended, there were still several online auctions left, so Xiao Jingwen ought to have stayed in Yuchen for a few more days.

Yet the reality was that Lin Congzhi, standing at the entrance of an ice cream shop in Seville, was currently connected to Xiao Jingwen’s hotspot.

He scanned his surroundings but couldn’t spot him. There was nothing to hide; Lin Congzhi felt that whether in Asia or Europe, Xiao Jingwen would always stand out effortlessly in a crowd.

He had never denied his preference for good looks—otherwise, he wouldn’t have held up that umbrella for him on a rainy sidewalk all those years ago.

Seeing no sign of him, he checked his phone once more. The message that had just buzzed through was indeed from Xiao Jingwen, consisting of two short words: Turn around.

He turned around. Behind him stood a woman who, seeing him suddenly turn, blinked in confusion.

The phone vibrated again. Xiao Jingwen: End of the line.

Lin Congzhi leaned his head out slightly—and so, in Xiao Jingwen’s field of vision, this day was terrifyingly bright. The cone painted on the pink ice cream shop sign seemed to waft a cool, sweet scent. Under the sunlight, a fuzzy, soft-curled head turned to look back at him.

He even flashed a faint smile toward him.

Xiao Jingwen used to love praising Lin Congzhi for looking like a foreign doll. As art students, his way of dressing was somewhat distinct—not the eccentric kind of distinct, but simply different from any man Xiao Jingwen had ever met.

Now standing a short distance ahead, his hair swaying gently, everything took on a golden glow. Along the side of the street, an accordion played a lively Flamenco tune, while a little girl holding a helium balloon danced playfully to the music. Then, he walked over.

The spot where Lin Congzhi had been standing was already quite far up, but after spotting Xiao Jingwen, he walked straight to the end of the line.

“You didn’t have to come over,” Xiao Jingwen said. “You were almost at the front.”

Lin Congzhi shook his head: “It’s fine.”

His hair grew quite fast. The last time he got a haircut was when he went to the Gleam meeting, and today it already covered half his ear. Being naturally wavy, the hair over his ear curled up into a soft arc; on straight hair, it would have looked even longer.

Perhaps because they were in a foreign land, or perhaps because the sun was truly making people dazed, Xiao Jingwen couldn’t resist. His fingers reached out to gently hook the strand of hair covering his ear.

Suddenly touched on the ear, Lin Congzhi tensed, flinched back swiftly, and looked at him in disbelief: “Mr. Xiao? Can’t keep your hands to yourself?”

“…” Xiao Jingwen lowered his hand awkwardly. “Sorry.”

Lin Congzhi gave him a sideways glance.

The next second, a dark shadow cast over him as Xiao Jingwen placed his baseball cap onto his head. In a place like Seville, summer temperatures could reach over forty degrees. Xiao Jingwen pressed down gently on the brim, saying, “Don’t get sunburned to the point of peeling.”

“Oh,” Lin Congzhi nodded.

Xiao Jingwen wasn’t particularly knowledgeable about these things. For instance, the first time he gifted him a rose, it triggered Lin Congzhi’s pollen allergy; the first time they went on a date to the beach, the sun almost burned Lin Congzhi’s skin off.

He truly didn’t understand these matters, ultimately summarizing it into one conclusion: his boyfriend was delicate, requiring extra care to look after.

Xiao Jingwen hadn’t welded a suit to his body today, dressed instead in a simple gray T-shirt and jeans. Beside him, Lin Congzhi kept his head down playing on his phone. Now back online, he began searching for art exhibitions and concerts in Seville.

There was an art exhibition happening in two days. Yet just as he tapped into the promotional post, before he could even expand the image, he suddenly lost network connection.

He turned to look at Xiao Jingwen. Due to the height difference and the cap brim, he had his head tilted up while the other looked down at him.

“Did you turn off the hotspot?” Lin Congzhi asked in disbelief.

“No,” Xiao Jingwen smiled subtly. “Just changed the password.”

With that, he handed his phone directly over for him to see—it was on the password interface. The 33-year-old president had playfully changed the password to: herewithyou.

Here with you.

Lin Congzhi stared at the line of English on his screen, typing it in while asking, “You came so many days early. Is the company fine without you?”

“I don’t care,” Xiao Jingwen said. “Staying back home left me absent-minded anyway.”

Lin Congzhi let out a small smile. He purchased two tickets for the art exhibition and asked, “How did you know I was here?”

“Asked your mother,” Xiao Jingwen said. “Just met her.”

“Just now?” Lin Congzhi was surprised. “Where?”

“That bar over there,” Xiao Jingwen pointed.

Though mother and son weren’t related by blood, they shared similarities in every aspect—such as both being heavy drinkers. Drinking before the sun had even set, Lin Congzhi pursed his lips and uttered an “Oh.”

Finally, the long queue reached its end. Lin Congzhi ordered a vanilla ice cream with raspberry jam, got a chocolate cookie crunch one for Xiao Jingwen, picked them up to leave, and told the cashier in Spanish, “Put it on his tab.” Xiao Jingwen then pulled out his wallet.

The setting sun showered the old town. The architecture here matched the color of sunshine; as the sun dipped lower, the entire city seemed wrapped in a giant orange gummy candy.

They sat opposite each other at a table beneath a parasol outside the ice cream shop. The table was very small, much like a domestic coffee table. Unavoidably, their knees brushed against each other.

Lin Congzhi was wearing a pale yellow T-shirt and white shorts today, so his bare knee directly rubbed against Xiao Jingwen’s jeans.

Although Lin Congzhi didn’t care much for sweets, he liked ice cream. Five years ago, they often sat like this in an ice cream shop near the Academy of Fine Arts, except Xiao Jingwen wouldn’t eat it back then. Watching Xiao Jingwen take one spoon after another now, he teased him: “So you know the joys of ice cream now.”

“Yeah,” Xiao Jingwen swallowed, saying offhandedly, “I was young and foolish before. Now that I’m older, I appreciate the joys of ice cream.”

Lin Congzhi smiled without replying. He felt that Xiao Jingwen probably faced no pressure here, feeling relaxed, his expression wearing a gentle smile.

Having finished their ice cream, the two sat under the parasol without saying another word. Whether out of boredom or daydreaming, they simply watched the sun sink lower bit by bit, finally submerging beneath the river running through the city.

In the past, Xiao Jingwen rarely smiled, as family and work pressures often left him breathless, gradually suppressing his feelings into a reserved personality over time. Lin Congzhi was the exact opposite, as creation was an artist’s inner spirit laid bare.

Lin Congzhi stared at him for a long moment, making him feel a bit self-conscious. Xiao Jingwen feigned a cough: “Why are you staring at me?”

—Even though he was intentionally showing the left side of his face, the side Lin Congzhi used to say looked better on him.

“You look good, so I’m looking,” Lin Congzhi stated directly. “You said there’s a bar over there?”

“Ah…” Xiao Jingwen paused briefly. “Yeah.”

“Let’s go have a drink.”

Xiao Jingwen let out a silent sigh, having no choice but to stand up with him.

The city at dusk was equally gorgeous. People had taken off their sunglasses, taking photos beneath the architecture of the historic district. The horse-drawn carriages in the square, which hadn’t operated during the afternoon due to the intense sun, could now be heard making rhythmic clattering sounds with their hooves.

The wheels rolled over the cobblestone streets, his ears filled with different languages from all over the world. A place like this where nobody knew you allowed a person to drop all defenses.

It was a small bar. The bartender pulled out a chilled glass, preparing a cocktail for the previous guest.

Xiao Jingwen recalled something, walked over to ask the bartender a few questions, handed him some tips, and stepped behind the counter. Lin Congzhi didn’t know what he was up to; as soon as he sat down, the bartender in front of him stepped away, replaced by Xiao Jingwen standing before him.

“What?” Lin Congzhi asked. “Working here now?”

“…” Xiao Jingwen looked at him silently. “Making a few drinks for you.”

“Oh,” Lin Congzhi remembered. “You added Coco’s WeChat.”

The drinks Coco mixed were something Lin Congzhi had missed for years. He could always find the ideal proportions for every kind of liquor, though Coco’s bartending style was somewhat like Chinese cooking—everyone made it with a unique flavor. There was no strict measurement, relying entirely on experience and mood.

The lights inside the bar were alluring. Sitting at the counter with his chin resting on his hand, he watched Xiao Jingwen’s clumsy yet serious movements, briefly feeling as though he were looking at the man who was with him five years ago.

The fresh roses gripped tightly all the way, thin trails of red blood dripping from his palm.

Xiao Jingwen asked for a chilled glass, poured a scoop of crushed ice inside, added whiskey, sweet vermouth, gin, squeezed an orange peel, dropped in an olive, and pushed it over to Lin Congzhi.

Lin Congzhi’s hand didn’t touch the glass; instead, he reached forward. Under the soft, colorful lights of the bar, his fingers traced a circle around the metal strap of Xiao Jingwen’s wristwatch.

Right at that moment, the guest served by the nearby bartender seemed to be having a great time, boisterously asking the bartender to feed him a drink. Lin Congzhi happened to glance over.

Xiao Jingwen caught his drift, picked up the glass, and used his other hand to lightly clasp his wrist from behind. Leaning his upper body forward, he brought the glass rim against his lips, speaking in Chinese that no one around could understand: “Open up, drink it down.”