He really was easy to fool nowadays. Leaving such a massive company behind to travel thousands of miles to Spain, buying ice cream one moment and mixing cocktails the next—it wasn’t that Lin Congzhi had tricked him into coming; he had been fooling himself the entire time.

Lin Congzhi was a slow eater, a habit formed back home.

Xiao Jingwen, on the other hand, ate quickly—also a habit formed back home.

Watching Xiao Jingwen take one large bite after another, it wasn’t the ravenous, wolfing-down kind of eating; he resembled a senior in college during finals week, hurrying through a meal just to rush back and catch up on work.

He had been like this five years ago. Even when there was nothing urgent on his schedule, whether they were having hot pot or fine French dining, Xiao Jingwen always ate remarkably fast. More often than not, before Lin Congzhi was even halfway through his portion, Xiao Jingwen had already finished his.

Lin Congzhi still remembered the very first time they dined out together. He had asked Xiao Jingwen, completely bewildered: Are you eating so fast because… you have somewhere urgent to be?

The underlying implication being: You scarfed it down in just a few bites, do you not want to spend a little more time with me?

At that time, the dense Xiao Jingwen had replied blankly: I have nothing going on. Take your time, I’ll wait for you.

Lin Congzhi’s heart had chilled right then, thinking to himself: Great, what a total straight-laced bore. Only later did Xiao Jingwen realize that his fast eating had mistakenly led Lin Congzhi to believe he wanted to be rid of him as soon as possible. He explained that it was simply how he grew up, as his family placed great emphasis on efficiency. During meals, his parents would outline what needed to be accomplished right after eating, so he subconsciously ate quickly until it turned into second nature.

Reflecting on it now, it made perfect sense that such an upbringing had produced a workaholic like Xiao Jingwen.

Lin Congzhi continued eating while Xiao Jingwen remained seated opposite him, handling company affairs on his phone. Positioned right by the floor-to-ceiling window, they could see the bustling crowd outside, but Lin Congzhi’s eyes were fixed on the reflection of Xiao Jingwen’s profile on the glass.

In his memory, Xiao Jingwen was always busy—both back then and now. That was why his arriving in Spain several days ahead of schedule had come as such a surprise. Lin Congzhi speared a slice of cured ham with his fork, popped it into his mouth, and quietly studied him.

It had been a long time since he had observed him so closely and peacefully. Xiao Jingwen had changed over the years; his features had matured significantly, yet he also seemed to carry far more suppressed emotions within him.

Lin Congzhi tore off a small piece of bread and dipped it into the sauce from the paella—it tasted pleasantly sweet and sour.

The man opposite him suddenly locked his phone screen, set it down, and raised his head: “Sorry about that. The partner bank for our online auctions suddenly demanded a higher processing fee cut.”

“Ah.” Lin Congzhi processed this for a second. “Oh, no worries, go ahead and handle your business.”

For a fleeting moment, it felt as though nothing had changed. Xiao Jingwen used to be just like this—so deeply absorbed in work that he became completely oblivious to his surroundings, only to snap back as if waking from a dream and offer an apology first.

“Can’t finish it?” Xiao Jingwen noticed him poking at the decorative edible flower on his plate with a fork.

“A little full.” Lin Congzhi shifted his gaze away.

“Pass it to me.” Xiao Jingwen reached out and pulled the plate over to his side.

Just as Xiao Jingwen slid the plate away, a new email popped up on Lin Congzhi’s phone. He hadn’t intended to pry, but as he moved the dish, his eyes happened to catch the eye-catching notification banner. With his sharp eyesight, Xiao Jingwen couldn’t help but notice the header: Reservation Confirmed.

Their eyes met.

It was a bit awkward. Realistically speaking, he had no standing to question his ex-boyfriend about what he had reserved, especially when the reservation appeared rather… Xiao Jingwen struggled to find the right word—gaudy?

Following his gaze down to the phone, Lin Congzhi offered: “An art exhibition.”

“Oh.” Xiao Jingwen nodded, then asked, “Going with… whom?”

Another wave of dancing youths swept past outside, jogging alongside musicians strumming instruments and singing. Separated by only a single wall, amidst the lively music, Lin Congzhi spoke up: “Do you have time? The morning after next.”

Xiao Jingwen froze for a second, almost unable to believe his ears.

Their shared memories of visiting art exhibitions together weren’t particularly fond ones. Lin Congzhi still remembered standing before a painting back then, carefully scrutinizing the brushstrokes for a long time, only for Xiao Jingwen to casually drop a cold truth: All the works displayed in this gallery are replicas. They hire painters to forge copies of the originals to ensure the safety of the real pieces.

—To be fair, Xiao Jingwen was merely stating a fact.

Yet that didn’t stop Lin Congzhi, who had been analyzing the painting so intently, from feeling like an absolute fool.

Consequently, a debate surrounding “originals vs. replicas” and the true “value of art” erupted between the two, spiraling into an argument that lasted all the way home and straight into the bedroom.

Their time together five years ago could roughly be summarized as: half the time spent fighting, and the other half spent making love.

Sitting together quietly over a meal like this, chatting peacefully, had been a rare luxury five years ago.

“I do,” Xiao Jingwen said. “I have time. Where is it?”

“I sent you a screenshot.” Lin Congzhi set his phone down. “See you the day after tomorrow?”

“Alright.”

The hotel Lin Congzhi was staying at was not far from the Royal Alcázar of Seville. The area was packed with tourists, and the locals were immensely warm—some would greet foreigners with a bright wave and a boisterous “Hola!”

The next day, Lin Congzhi joined his mother and Hannah for lunch. They mentioned that his grandmother, aunt, and uncle would arrive in Seville tomorrow to help prepare for the wedding. Lin Congzhi offered to lend a hand, but his mother declined, pointing out that Xiao Jingwen rarely got a break all year and that they should go explore the city together instead.

During the meal, when Xiao Jingwen’s name came up, Lin Lingyu mentioned that after Xiao Jingwen arrived in Seville two days ago, he had come over to chat with her for a few minutes.

That day in the parking lot, Xiao Jingwen had sat silently in his car for a long time, gripping the wedding invitation.

The wedding date was set for next week at a small park in Seville.

From inside the car, Xiao Jingwen had arranged his upcoming workload with his assistant, handing off the online auction matters to a vice president to oversee. He then booked his flight and hotel, landing in Spain almost right behind Lin Congzhi’s flight.

He had been buying water near the bar where Lin Lingyu and Hannah were having drinks when he happened to run into them, stopping to chat at the roadside for a few moments.

When the conversation turned to their past breakup, Xiao Jingwen held his water bottle, and Lin Lingyu asked if he had ever thought about Ah Zhi after they parted ways. He spent a rare moment reflecting on that period.

He said: “Right after the breakup, I could never quite register reality. In the middle of the night, finding the space beside me on the bed empty, I’d assume he had fallen off. I’d snap awake in terror and switch on the light, only to remember that we had already broken up. I felt sad… deeply sad, but then I’d catch myself thinking: at least he hadn’t actually hit the floor.”

After saying it, he felt it was inappropriate—how could he talk about bed matters in front of the guy’s mother? But since the words were already out, he could only follow up with a soft “I’m sorry.”

Lin Lingyu didn’t mind it; they were all adults. Still, hearing those words left a heavy, bittersweet ache in her heart, though she couldn’t offer any words of comfort with so much time having passed.

Afterward, Xiao Jingwen wished her a happy marriage, and she informed him that Lin Congzhi was staying on the street over there and would likely head out for ice cream once he woke up around that time.

Listening to the story, Lin Congzhi slowly picked up his glass and drank every last drop of water.

Losing his composure slightly, he almost dragged the tablecloth along as he stood up, causing the glasses and dishes on the table to clatter loudly for a moment.

“Excuse me,” Lin Congzhi said. “I… I think I’ll go for a walk.”

Offering an apology to Hannah, he fled his mother’s presence as if making an escape.

He wandered aimlessly through the city alone. The jacaranda trees along the streets were in full bloom this season, their blossoms drifting gently to the ground.

Reaching the fountain in the center of the plaza, he let out a soft sigh.

In truth, there was another reason he hadn’t gotten a local SIM card upon arriving in Seville: he wanted to use physical limitations to curb his tendency to overthink. For instance, at this very moment, he desperately wanted to send Xiao Jingwen a message telling him that it was actually quite cool by the fountain.

Yet right now, he needed to be alone with his thoughts for a while.

On the day of the art exhibition, Lin Congzhi woke up early.

Rummaging through his suitcase, he pulled out a light, airy shirt and trousers. Standing before the mirror, he noticed his hair was getting a bit long. Unable to do much about it, he ran his fingers through it, looking every bit the nostalgic, weary artist.

Xiao Jingwen was already waiting right outside the hotel entrance. The hotel Lin Congzhi picked lacked a conventional lobby, featuring only a wooden door akin to a residential building.

“Mm?” Seeing him already standing by the door frame, Lin Congzhi asked, “You… arrived this early?”

Xiao Jingwen put his phone away: “Just got here.”

The exhibition started at ten o’clock, so they grabbed breakfast before heading to the gallery.

This particular gallery actually shared a bit of history with him. Upon arrival, they scanned their digital tickets to enter and picked up informational brochures in the hallway. Lin Congzhi remarked, “Last year, the owner of this art gallery contacted me, asking if I’d be willing to come over and paint a few forged replicas for them.”

Xiao Jingwen took a brochure as well, letting out a faint smile: “Isn’t that supposed to be confidential? Is it really okay to tell me?”

“Ah.” Lin Congzhi tilted his head to look at him. “Can you keep a secret, then?”

“I can.” Xiao Jingwen nodded, walking side-by-side with him into the exhibition hall. “And so you declined?”

“Yeah. But I realized… I no longer get filled with righteous indignation like I used to, ranting about how a gallery could dare display fake art or what that makes of an exhibition.”

Xiao Jingwen wasn’t surprised at all. He simply said softly, “You’ve grown up.”

He truly had grown up, no longer impulsively or bluntly casting judgment. What the years had taught him was that coexistence isn’t synonymous with compromise, nor is compromise necessarily a sign of defeat.

In the past, he had always wanted Xiao Jingwen to yield, desperately trying to prove that he was right—so much so that he would sometimes forget they were lovers, and that lovers had no need for such battles.

Throughout this exhibition, Xiao Jingwen remained exceptionally quiet.

It made Lin Congzhi feel a touch guilty: “You can share your thoughts, you know. I won’t criticize you.”

Xiao Jingwen immediately took the cue: “Really?”

“Go ahead.”

“Ahem.” Xiao Jingwen cleared his throat. Leaning down slightly, he brought his voice close to Lin Congzhi’s ear: “The third painting to your left, Crystal Chandelier Entangled by a Python, is a fake. The original is in my collection.”

“…” Lin Congzhi froze, turning his gaze to the left first.

Displaying replicas in art exhibitions wasn’t an uncommon practice. Five years ago, when they debated the legitimacy of hanging fake art, Xiao Jingwen had directly cited the Mona Lisa in the Louvre. Whether the displayed piece was the true original remained an open question with no definitive global consensus.

From a cynical perspective, the Mona Lisa had evolved from a mere artwork into a symbol—so long as it hung on the wall of the Louvre, it was the one and only Mona Lisa.

Lin Congzhi walked over to the third painting on his left. Sure enough, a “Not for Sale” tag was stuck on the bottom right corner of the frame.

Xiao Jingwen continued, “Last month, I received an email requesting permission to use a replica for display, and I agreed. I had no idea it was for this gallery. Though when we walked in earlier, the Faun near the entrance was also—”

“Alright, shut your mouth!” Lin Congzhi reached out directly to cover his lips, glaring at him with a warning look. “Don’t say another word! What if someone here understands Chinese!”