Bang!

Out on the plaza, a child’s balloon popped, startling a flock of pigeons into the air.

The words Xiao Jingwen spoke were like a dried flower crushed into the wind—long withered, stripped of all weight.

Even at this very moment, messages continued to flood Xiao Jingwen’s phone incessantly, though he had silenced both the ringtone and vibration. For the first time in his career, he had put his company aside; it was the very first time in his life he had ever been “reckless.”

He raised his head slightly, squinting as the sunlight pricked his eyes.

How do I decompress? By missing you. How natural, how sincere.

Lin Congzhi was still holding his lighter. Exhaling softly, he turned his head to look at Xiao Jingwen, bathed in the morning sunlight. Five years ago, on a sidewalk, reeking of alcohol and leaning against a tree while throwing up pitifully—back then, Lin Congzhi had thought he was merely an ordinary corporate drone forced into endless work socialize events.

These past five years, time had slipped away so effortlessly, vanishing in the blink of an eye.

Back in Yuchen, it was currently the rainy and humid season—the exact opposite of Seville, where the sun was scorching. Children playing on the plaza for just a short while quickly developed flushed cheeks from the heat. Perhaps because he had endured the dreary rain for far too long, even Xiao Jingwen seemed a little reluctant to part with this natural warmth.

When Lin Congzhi turned his head toward him, his gaze lingered on the side of his neck—a part of Xiao Jingwen’s body Lin Congzhi loved most.

Sensing a gaze even hotter than the Spanish sun, Xiao Jingwen turned his head as well. As their eyes met, the latter said faintly, “Without even a title or status, you’re just staring at me so blatantly.”

“…” All the bitterness and regret in Lin Congzhi’s heart vanished in an instant. Just a minute ago, he had been lamenting how he used to focus solely on Xiao Jingwen’s profit-driven mindset while overlooking the real reasons behind his transformation. Yet a minute later, this CEO was playing coy and embarrassed again, as if taking a few glances without giving him an official title was a monumental grievance.

Lin Congzhi said, “Know when to stop.”

Xiao Jingwen replied, “Alright.”

He was still holding Lin Congzhi’s cigarette. Handing it back, he said, “Put it away. Smoking is banned in most places in this city—you should know that better than I do.”

That was indeed true. He took back the unlit cigarette and stuffed it back into the pack.

Lin Congzhi had started smoking while working on his graduation piece. Those days had been filled with immense anxiety. At the time, one of the school’s academic buildings was under renovation, leaving the studios for murals and sculptures unusable, forcing those students to disperse across various vacant classrooms.

Back then, the studio Lin Congzhi used housed a sculpture student and two mural students upstairs. Aside from the daily pounding and hammering, everyone had to be careful not to step on the components of other people’s artwork whenever they stepped out.

Things from five years ago felt like yesterday; even the finest details could still be recalled.

Looking at the cigarette in his hand, he recalled the past and looked back at Xiao Jingwen.

“What’s wrong?”

“You said earlier that I’ve grown up,” Lin Congzhi said. “I feel like I’ve grown up, too.”

Xiao Jingwen let out a light laugh. “What are you talking about? Of course you’d grow up.”

“I don’t mean ‘growing up’ in terms of age, I mean…” He lowered his eyes.

“I know,” Xiao Jingwen interrupted him. “I mean it in the exact way you’re thinking. Of course you’d grow up.”

Confused, Lin Congzhi raised his eyes to look at him again, tilting his head slightly as he asked hesitantly, “Why? We talked about this topic before, and the conclusion was that you and I see completely different worlds—like branches splitting from the same tree trunk, extending in two different directions.”

That was one of the rare moments when the two of them had actually sat down, looked at each other, and tried to salvage their relationship. Yet things didn’t go as wished. After having a serious, objective, and gentle conversation, they arrived at a conclusion: some movies are meant to be watched alone, some music is meant to be listened to alone, and some paths are meant to be walked alone.

“Yes.” Xiao Jingwen remembered every single conversation between them. “But I believe in you.”

“Believe in me for what?”

“Believe that one day, you will accept me again.”

Xiao Jingwen said “accept me,” not “understand me” or “forgive me.” He didn’t need Lin Congzhi to put himself in his shoes, nor did he need Lin Congzhi to change or alter his perspective. All he needed was a little tolerance.

“You’ve grown up, too.” Lin Congzhi looked into his eyes. Seville was very hot today, the sun scorching down, causing fine beads of sweat to seep from his skin. Lin Congzhi was feeling the heat himself. In a midsummer like this, one couldn’t live without air conditioning; standing beneath the sun felt like a pill being refined in a furnace.

“I’m already in my thirties. At this age, it’s not called ‘growing up,'” Xiao Jingwen adjusted his wristwatch, its strap sticking to his skin with sweat. “It should be called ‘maturing,’ though saying something like that out loud feels a bit embarrassing.”

Xiao Jingwen had always been like this; he always knew how to make him smile. Lin Congzhi let out a genuine laugh and said, “Honestly, I used to think you looked down on art because you were always talking about operational costs, calculating profits, and… sigh, I forgot what else. But you still bought that painting.”

“Isn’t that only natural?” Xiao Jingwen raised his hand, gently brushing away the fringe clinging to Lin Congzhi’s forehead from the sweat. Lowering his voice slightly, he said, “After all, back when my ex-boyfriend was giving me lectures on the Vitruvian Man in bed, I was cultured enough to pick up a thing or two.”

Lin Congzhi cast him a glance, took a step back, and adopted a serious expression: “Pardon my youthful ignorance back then, President Xiao.”

“Let’s go inside. It’s quite hot out here,” Xiao Jingwen said.

The exhibition hall was well-air-conditioned; stepping back inside, they immediately felt the full force of the cooling system.

Since this gallery was co-managed by Dan and his friends, Lin Congzhi still stopped to look for a moment when they passed the painting again. It had to be said that even though he already knew it was a replica, he was still awed by the execution of the piece.

To paint a 1:1 replica to this level was a rare feat. What’s more, the painter had to suppress themselves, set themselves aside, and pretend to be someone else entirely. On that point alone, Lin Congzhi knew he couldn’t pull it off.

“Can I see the original after we return to China?” Lin Congzhi asked.

“Of course,” Xiao Jingwen said.

The two continued walking deeper into the exhibition hall, but Lin Congzhi could no longer focus his attention on the other paintings. Even though there were works by many more famous masters further along, the only piece lingering in his mind was that single canvas.

Not long after walking, they ran into Dan again. Dan had many friends and was currently chatting animatedly with a group of people.

“Oh, right,” Lin Congzhi said. “When you bought the painting from Dan, did he have this hairstyle?”

“No,” Xiao Jingwen answered. “It was the kind of… uh…”

“Long curly red hair and a full beard,” Lin Congzhi described for him. “Two extra-long drop earrings and a suit with lace trim, right?”

Xiao Jingwen looked at him with a hint of admiration: “Are all of you art school graduates so…?”

He couldn’t find the right word.

Lin Congzhi helpfully filled it in for him: “Yes. Things that have struck our souls are hard to forget. We don’t talk about beauty or ugliness, only impact—and even many years later, we can still clearly recall every single detail.”

“…” Xiao Jingwen’s admiration grew deeper. “Why do you ask about that, though?”

“I remember he dressed that way back then to cater to his ex-husband.” Lin Congzhi looked at Dan’s figure from a short distance away. “He’s a really good person, just way too head-over-heels in love. But after the divorce, he looks like he’s in a much better state.”

After saying that, he felt a bit awkward and stole a quick glance at Xiao Jingwen.

Xiao Jingwen didn’t mind it at all, following up on his words: “Yeah, he really is a good guy. When I bought the painting, he was in Paris. He instructed me to put the painting in the trunk and not inside the car, or the windows might get smashed.”

“I want… I want to buy that replica,” Lin Congzhi suddenly said.

“Hmm?” Xiao Jingwen thought he had misheard. “The python?”

“Yes.”

Lin Congzhi took a breath. Dan was quite an emotional person; even though the painting was labeled “Not for Sale,” Lin Congzhi still wanted to try asking.

“I’ll go talk to Dan. If he’s willing to sell the replica to me…” He looked at Xiao Jingwen with curved, smiling eyes, “…I might need to borrow some money from you, President Xiao.”

Over there, Dan was still sharing laughs with his friends. Lin Congzhi patted his shoulder with a smile. Dan looked at him: “Why are you smiling in a way that sends chills down my spine?”

“I want to buy a painting,” Lin Congzhi said.

Dan raised an eyebrow: “Oh?”

The end result was that he couldn’t buy it because the gallery didn’t sell replicas. In the end, Lin Congzhi could only take a photo of it.

By the time they left the art gallery, the sun was shining brightly, making for a scorching hot day. Water splashing from the fountain evaporated almost immediately after hitting the ground. The two sat in a café by the edge of the plaza, with Lin Congzhi still dwelling on failing to purchase that painting.

“If you really like it, I’ll give you the original,” Xiao Jingwen said for the second time.

“No.” Lin Congzhi shook his head, still staring at the photo on his phone. “That’s yours; I can’t take it. Besides, I don’t want yours… sigh, I can’t really explain it.”

He couldn’t explain it well, but Xiao Jingwen understood.

That painting was Xiao Jingwen’s badge of honor, and what Lin Congzhi wanted was a badge of honor of his own as well.

“Actually, you said it before.” Lin Congzhi put down his phone, pulling his coffee cup in front of himself and cupping it with both hands. “It feels like… feels like you only said it that one time: ‘I’m not greedy for wealth; I’m greedy to grow full wings so I can shield you from the wind and rain.’ In the end, I…”

“It’s nothing,” Xiao Jingwen interrupted him, picking up his own coffee to take a sip. He knew those following words would make him feel uncomfortable to speak aloud. “You need to understand: if I had possessed the assets and capability I have today back then, while you were a graduate from an art academy with such achievements, we would never have ended up together—we wouldn’t have even looked twice at each other. So, A-Zhi, don’t regret a single decision we made.”

Lin Congzhi looked up, seeming to understand, yet not quite: “In the past, I… said a lot of harsh things. Did you ever harbor resentment against me?”

Xiao Jingwen sat up straight, placing his elbows on the table: “I said plenty of things that hurt you, too. What about you? Do you hate me?”

When all was said and done, back when the two of them truly fought five years ago, they had hurled every awful word imaginable at each other. Lin Congzhi had called him an unprincipled capitalist blinded by profit; he had told Lin Congzhi to wake up from his fairy-tale dream and stop turning a blind eye to reality.

But as for hate? Lin Congzhi shook his head.

He didn’t look at Xiao Jingwen anymore, lowering his eyes and tilting his head slightly, staring at the coffee inside his cup. He said, “No. It wasn’t hate—it was sadness.”

He continued, “So for five years, I didn’t allow myself to miss you anymore. It was just too sad.”

They sat in the café for a long time—so long that the ice cream truck on the plaza had sold out and headed home before Xiao Jingwen finally stood up.

He walked over to Lin Congzhi’s side and spoke the very first sentence he had said to Lin Congzhi five years ago after his confession succeeded.

“Will you hold my hand?” he asked.