The two of them entered the Ferris wheel cabin.

The space inside wasn’t very large—Zhou Jiayu sat directly across from Lin Zhushui. If either of them leaned forward slightly, their faces would practically touch. Zhou Jiayu couldn’t understand why they had to come out in the middle of the night to ride a Ferris wheel, and he couldn’t help feeling a little uneasy. He also vaguely sensed that there was something else inside this massive Ferris wheel with them.

The cabin slowly rose. Neither of them spoke, but thankfully, the silence wasn’t too awkward. Zhou Jiayu gazed out the glass window, taking in the view of the entire amusement park below. The neon lights and the music drifting through the air gave the place a strangely lively atmosphere. Although there were no people around, it wasn’t quiet—every ride was still operating. Zhou Jiayu even saw a roller coaster plummeting down its tracks… though what truly caught his attention wasn’t the ride itself, but the pale figure sitting slumped in the front seat.

Zhou Jiayu secretly broke into a cold sweat.

While he was nervously glancing around, the cabin unknowingly reached the highest point. Then came a loud click—the Ferris wheel came to a sudden stop.

Startled by the noise, Zhou Jiayu immediately tensed up. “Sir—the ride stopped!”

Lin Zhushui calmly hummed in acknowledgment, completely unfazed by the strange atmosphere. Instead, all his focus was on Zhou Jiayu in front of him. He said, “Zhou Jiayu, there’s something I want to tell you.”

The cabin hung in mid-air, swaying gently. Most terrifying of all, Zhou Jiayu saw something climbing toward them along the Ferris wheel’s metal frame—he couldn’t make out what it was, but it chilled him to the bone. If Lin Zhushui weren’t sitting beside him, he probably would’ve lost his mind already.

“S-Sir?” Zhou Jiayu’s voice trembled as he wondered what Lin Zhushui was going to say.

“I like you.” Lin Zhushui enunciated each word carefully, as if afraid Zhou Jiayu wouldn’t hear him clearly. He even deliberately repeated himself, speaking even more firmly: “I like you.”

Zhou Jiayu froze completely. He thought he must’ve misheard. Dumbly, he let out a soft “Ah?”

“I want to be with you,” Lin Zhushui continued. “I want to hold your hand, kiss you, sleep with you—”

Lin Zhushui’s face was close—so close—and his serious expression made it impossible to think he was joking. His words were utterly clear, leaving no room for misunderstanding. Zhou Jiayu understood exactly what he meant.

His heart pounded wildly, and he felt almost breathless, light-headed. He wanted to answer, but just as he opened his mouth, Lin Zhushui gently pressed a finger to his lips.

“Think carefully before you agree,” Lin Zhushui said slowly. “If you say yes and then regret it, I won’t forgive you.” After saying this, he reached out and gave the cabin wall a soft tap.

The next moment, Zhou Jiayu watched in shock as countless dark shadows leapt from the Ferris wheel’s frame into the air. Most of these shadows were grotesque, clearly not of this world.

Zhou Jiayu was still wondering what they were doing when the shadows suddenly gathered not far from him—forming the shape of a giant heart.

Zhou Jiayu: “…” Only Lin Zhushui could confess like this—even his ghosts love in heart shapes?!

Just then, colorful fireworks burst in the sky, scattering bright red roses down from the shadows. Zhou Jiayu didn’t know why, but he suddenly wanted to laugh. Still, he felt it wasn’t appropriate, so he covered his face and shook with barely suppressed giggles.

Lin Zhushui frowned. “What are you laughing at?”

Zhou Jiayu: “…Sir, who taught you this?”

Lin Zhushui looked displeased. “Why are you laughing?”

“I just think… this style doesn’t seem like you,” Zhou Jiayu admitted.

“Lin Jue’s idea,” Lin Zhushui said after a moment’s silence, seeming faintly aware that something about this confession was off. “You don’t like it?”

“No,” Zhou Jiayu smiled. “I love it. Absolutely love it.”

A faint smile appeared on Lin Zhushui’s lips.

“I want to be with you,” Zhou Jiayu said softly, watching the fireworks bloom outside the window. His expression was gentle, his eyes filled with deep affection. “Very much.”

Lin Zhushui suddenly got up and sat down beside him.

Just as Zhou Jiayu was wondering what he was going to do, Lin Zhushui leaned in and pressed his lips against Zhou Jiayu’s. What followed was a long, lingering kiss. Their tongues entwined, and Zhou Jiayu smelled that familiar sandalwood scent. His body went weak, and his mind filled with fireworks. When he finally came back to his senses, the Ferris wheel had started moving again.

Their fingers were interlocked, and a silly grin hung on Zhou Jiayu’s face.

“Happy?” Lin Zhushui asked.

Zhou Jiayu smiled so wide his eyes became slits. “I… I’ve liked you for so long, sir.”

Hearing this, Lin Zhushui raised an eyebrow. “Then why did you agree to my confession before, only to regret it later?”

Zhou Jiayu blinked. “Before… you confessed?”

“When you had a fever,” Lin Zhushui replied.

Zhou Jiayu fell silent. After a while, he awkwardly asked, “Wh-Which day? I dreamed every night that you were confessing to me…”

Lin Zhushui: “…”

In the end, they both silently decided to skip this topic.

When they stepped off the Ferris wheel, Lin Zhushui held Zhou Jiayu’s hand as they left the cabin. Zhou Jiayu felt a little nervous, wondering how Shen Yiqiong and the others would react after seeing this.

But when they turned to look, Shen Yiqiong and the others were already clutching the nearby trees, vomiting. After throwing up, they slumped to the ground. Shen Yiqiong sobbed, “This… this is the most thrilling Ferris wheel I’ve ever ridden in my life—”

Later Zhou Jiayu found out that while he and Lin Zhushui had been sitting at the top, the others were in cabins below. Before those shadows jumped into the air to make the heart shape, they’d been plastered right against the cabins’ glass walls. Shen Yiqiong and the rest had spent the whole ride watching grotesque, bloody faces smear across the glass, looking as if they’d burst in at any moment.

After vomiting, they all noticed something unusual between Zhou Jiayu and Lin Zhushui.

Shen Chaosan and Shen Musi stayed pretty calm. Shen Yiqiong and Shen Erbai, on the other hand, looked like their eyes might pop out of their heads.

Lin Zhushui, as usual, stayed composed. After they’d all recovered, he said, “Zhou Jiayu and I are together now.” Then he added seriously, “As in, dating.” —Clearly still traumatized by the last failed confession and making extra sure to explain.

Shen Yiqiong trembled and managed to squeeze out a “Congratulations…”

Shen Erbai also offered congratulations.

But judging by their dazed expressions, they hadn’t fully processed the news, especially Shen Yiqiong, who still looked lost.

As they stood beneath the Ferris wheel for a while, Lin Jue came driving up in the park’s sightseeing car. She saw Zhou Jiayu and Lin Zhushui holding hands and immediately smiled. “Ohhh, finally together? My fireworks timing was perfect, right?”

“Perfect,” Lin Zhushui said, giving Lin Jue a rare word of praise.

Zhou Jiayu grew a little nervous again in front of so many people, and his sweaty hand clutched Lin Zhushui’s tighter. But Lin Zhushui didn’t mind at all, holding his hand as they got into the car together.

Then Lin Jue drove them all out of the amusement park.

Back home, Zhou Jiayu and Lin Zhushui said goodbye at the door. When Zhou Jiayu entered the house, he found Lin Zhushui’s four disciples sitting on the couch, all staring straight at him.

Shen Yiqiong cried out, “Wuwuwu, why did this happen? I was the one who met him first, who became his disciple first…”

Before he could finish, Shen Musi smacked him on the head. “Speak properly.”

Rubbing his head, Shen Yiqiong ran to Zhou Jiayu’s side. “Zhou Jiayu, teach me—how did you win over sir? With that skill, I could find a girlfriend too!”

Zhou Jiayu said, “First—”

Shen Yiqiong looked at him eagerly.

“First,” Zhou Jiayu repeated, “you need to meet a woman.”

Shen Yiqiong: “…” He glanced around at the room full of males. “Why are all the paper figurines male?!”

Zhou Jiayu spread his hands.

Shen Yiqiong collapsed in despair, feeling like that prophecy of falling in love at seventy-three years old might really come true.

Zhou Jiayu sat down among them and said gently, “If you guys want to ask anything, go ahead. I’ll answer as best I can.” He didn’t want his relationship with Lin Zhushui to create any distance between them.

Blushing, Shen Yiqiong hesitated before asking, “Um… did you ever have a crush on me?”

Zhou Jiayu fell silent for a long moment before forcing out, “Sorry… you’re a good person.”

Shen Yiqiong: “…Forget it. You guys keep talking—I’m going to bed.”

Shen Musi chuckled and said, “Zhou Jiayu, you really don’t need to be so nervous. We’d never interfere with our teacher’s private life. Whoever he likes, whoever he chooses to be with, we’ll support him unconditionally. Besides, you’re a good person—have some confidence in yourself.”

Shen Chaosan nodded in agreement. “At least you’re not that swindler.”

Zhou Jiayu was deeply touched. He’d thought that after getting together with Lin Zhushui, they’d look at him strangely, but to his surprise, they so easily expressed their understanding and even offered him comfort.

As always, Shen Yiqiong’s attention was off track. He dazedly muttered, “So… I have to call you ‘Master’s wife’ from now on?”

Zhou Jiayu said, “Good boy, disciple.”

Shen Yiqiong: “…”

Zhou Jiayu laughed heartily. “Just kidding. You can call me the same as before—nothing needs to change.” He sighed softly. “I honestly didn’t expect I’d end up with Master either.” Even now, it all still felt a little unreal.

“It’s fine,” Shen Musi said. “You’ll get used to it.”

It was getting late, so after chatting a little longer, everyone went back to their rooms to rest.

As Zhou Jiayu lay on his bed after showering, he suddenly remembered something. “Ji Ba, are you still here?”

Ji Ba slowly poked its head out from under its turtle shell. “What?”

Zhou Jiayu felt a little guilty. “Sorry. I should’ve trusted you before… Master really did confess to me.”

Ji Ba snorted. “And you’re only saying this now? Too late!”

Zhou Jiayu had to coax and placate it for quite a while before Ji Ba finally forgave him and crawled fully out of its shell. But a patch of feathers on its wing was still bare—it must’ve plucked them out yesterday when it was too stressed. Zhou Jiayu felt even more guilty seeing this and asked Ji Ba if there was anything he could do to make it up.

Ji Ba put on an expression like a weary old father watching his child and said that it asked for nothing more than Zhou Jiayu and Lin Zhushui’s happiness.

Zhou Jiayu: “…” Poor little thing, worrying like an old father.

Though he and Lin Zhushui were now officially together, their lives didn’t change that much on the surface.

Lin Zhushui gave Zhou Jiayu the glass lamp again, and this time Zhou Jiayu obediently accepted it, thinking he should give Lin Zhushui a return gift. But what to give was a real question. Lin Jue suggested he carve a pendant himself and even provided him with a piece of jade, teaching him hand-in-hand how to carve.

As a beginner, Zhou Jiayu’s skill was far from good. After working hard for half a month, he managed to carve out a rather rough-looking fish. Compared to the exquisite jade pendant Lin Zhushui had given him, his effort was like heaven and earth.

“It’s fine,” Lin Jue comforted him. “This kind of thing is all about the thought. Your Master could buy any pendant he wants. What matters isn’t the pendant—it’s the person who made it.”

That did make sense. When Zhou Jiayu gave the pendant to Lin Zhushui, the man genuinely seemed to like it and immediately hung it around his neck.

As a result, the smell of romance in the house was even thicker the next day. The five single guys watched Zhou Jiayu and Lin Zhushui wearing matching pendants around their necks and deeply felt the cruelty of the world.

While Zhou Jiayu was basking in the sweetness of new love, something big happened.

Usually, the paper figurine’s mood was always calm—no matter how much they teased it, it never got angry. But lately, it had been unusually irritable. It even stopped cuddling with the weasel and stuck to the door all day, staring outside.

Zhou Jiayu keenly sensed something was wrong and told Lin Zhushui. Lin Zhushui frowned deeply upon hearing this. “Something might’ve happened to the Xu family in She Mountain.”

Sure enough, that night Lin Zhushui came by and said they needed to pack immediately—they were going to She Mountain.

“What happened, sir?” Zhou Jiayu noticed Lin Zhushui’s grave expression and felt a growing sense of unease.

“There was a fire in She Mountain,” Lin Zhushui said. “They haven’t been able to reach the Xu family.”

Zhou Jiayu’s heart skipped a beat. Judging by the paper figurine’s reaction and Lin Zhushui’s news, the situation at She Mountain didn’t look good. Something serious must’ve happened if they couldn’t get in touch at all.

They quickly packed and set out that very night.

Winter had just arrived, and it had snowed lightly a few days before. Thankfully, the weather wasn’t too cold yet—otherwise, if heavy snow had blocked the mountains and stopped the trains, they might not have been able to go.

Zhou Jiayu rarely saw such a look on Lin Zhushui’s face. From the moment they started packing to when they got on the train, Lin Zhushui barely said a word.

Zhou Jiayu felt worried but didn’t know how to comfort him. At last, Lin Zhushui seemed to sense his unease, gently hooked Zhou Jiayu’s palm with his finger, and said softly, “Don’t be afraid.”

Miraculously, Zhou Jiayu’s nervousness eased. As long as Lin Zhushui was there, it felt like nothing was unsolvable.

Because it was urgent, they left almost immediately and boarded the train to She Mountain at midnight.

This time all the disciples and Lin Jue came along. The paper figurine hid in Zhou Jiayu’s arms, clearly unsettled.

Zhou Jiayu stroked its head, trying to comfort it, saying everything would be fine. But the paper figurine whimpered, “Gone… they’re all gone…”

Zhou Jiayu sighed inwardly and hugged it tightly. The little figure clung to him, its expression full of sorrow. Zhou Jiayu had raised it for almost a year and had never seen it this upset. He didn’t know what to say—he could only gently rub its back to ease its pain.

On the train, Lin Zhushui was constantly on the phone. From his expression, it was clear that things in She Mountain weren’t looking good.

Lin Jue asked how bad it was. Lin Zhushui sighed quietly. “The fire’s out, but most of the Xu family is missing…”

Missing in a fire—chances of survival were slim. Lin Jue lit a cigarette. “This was arson, wasn’t it?”

They all suspected as much. After all, the paper figurines in She Mountain weren’t afraid of ordinary fire—under normal circumstances, a blaze was impossible.

But according to Lin Zhushui’s reports, the Xu family’s entire estate had been reduced to ash. Something else had to be behind this.

The midnight train was eerily quiet—the entire carriage held only their group. Around dawn, Zhou Jiayu dozed off against the seat and when he woke, he found himself wrapped in Lin Zhushui’s arms, covered with a cashmere coat.

“Sir,” Zhou Jiayu murmured sleepily.

“Sleep a bit longer,” Lin Zhushui said gently. “We’re not there yet.”

Zhou Jiayu hummed in reply and glanced out the window. It was still dark outside, and the wind howled through the sky, carrying fine snowflakes that tapped mournfully against the glass. But Zhou Jiayu didn’t feel cold at all. Leaning against Lin Zhushui’s chest, he could feel the steady warmth radiating from him through the thin fabric and the familiar, comforting scent of sandalwood that lingered around him.

“Sir, don’t you want to sleep for a while?” Zhou Jiayu asked, noticing that Shen Yiqiong and the others had also fallen asleep, though less comfortably—either slumped over tables or leaning against the seatbacks.

“I’m fine,” Lin Zhushui replied. “I’m not tired.”

Zhou Jiayu smiled softly, his eyes crinkling. “Humans are made of flesh—how can you not be tired?” He rubbed his eyes and wriggled, trying to get out of Lin Zhushui’s arms. “I can hold you while you sleep—it’ll be nice, I promise.”

But Lin Zhushui didn’t let go—still holding him. “I’m keeping watch.”

Zhou Jiayu tilted his head to look up. From this angle, he could clearly see Lin Zhushui’s well-defined jawline, his long neck, and the elegant curve of his Adam’s apple beneath his smooth skin, leading down to his beautiful collarbones. A sudden impulse rose in Zhou Jiayu’s heart. He leaned closer and pressed a soft kiss against Lin Zhushui’s collarbone.

Lin Zhushui raised an eyebrow slightly.

“Sir, you’re so good-looking,” Zhou Jiayu murmured, his own ears turning pink despite being the one who made the move.

Lin Zhushui didn’t reply, but reached out and gently touched Zhou Jiayu’s earlobe. Then he said, “Do your ears always turn red whenever you confess?”

Zhou Jiayu: “…Ugh.” He didn’t mean to—he just couldn’t help this embarrassing reaction.

“Very cute,” Lin Zhushui said, the corners of his lips curving into a faint smile. “Lin Jue told me about it. But it’s a pity I can’t see it myself.”

For some reason, Zhou Jiayu suddenly felt a little sad. He looked into Lin Zhushui’s beautiful eyes and long lashes, then leaned forward and gave him a soft, gentle kiss.

The warmth of Zhou Jiayu’s lips brushed against the cool skin near Lin Zhushui’s eyes, making the atmosphere grow even more intimate. Lin Zhushui’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly, as if he were suppressing some emotion. In the end, he merely let out a quiet sigh and said, “Go back to sleep.”

Zhou Jiayu nodded and closed his eyes, soon slipping into slumber once again.

In winter, the sky always brightened especially late. When Zhou Jiayu woke, it was already past eight in the morning, but the world outside the window remained dark and overcast, as gloomy as dusk.

When Zhou Jiayu sat up, he saw that Shen Yiqiong and the others were already having breakfast. Though “breakfast” was simply hot water poured over instant noodles. As usual, Lin Zhushui showed no interest in such food.

But when you’re hungry, anything tastes good. After waking, Zhou Jiayu also had a cup of instant noodles and asked how much longer the journey would take.

“Around noon,” Lin Jue replied, her nose red from the cold as she sniffled. “This place is pretty far out…”

“Shibo, have you been to She Mountain before?” Zhou Jiayu asked, curious.

Lin Jue smiled. “Of course I’ve been. I went to plenty of places back then. Besides, She Mountain’s paper figurines are famous in our field—you have to go see them at least once.” As she spoke, she turned her gaze toward the rugged mountains outside the window, her expression carrying a trace of some other feeling.

Zhou Jiayu vaguely guessed that she must have gone there with someone else in the past. But now, visiting the old place again, the old companion was nowhere to be found.

Shen Yiqiong sniffled as well; he seemed to have caught a cold. His nose was stuffy, and he’d begun to cough, huddled into his down jacket like a wilted quail.

“Yiqiong, did you take medicine?” Shen Musi looked a little worried at his miserable state.

“I did,” Shen Yiqiong mumbled thickly. “I probably caught this cold from Zhou Jiayu.”

Shen Musi said, “Zhou Jiayu’s cold is already gone—how could he have given it to you?”

Shen Yiqiong grumbled, “Hmph, whatever. It’s the stench of romance in the air that made me sick.”

Shen Musi: “…”

Zhou Jiayu took another bite of noodles and said, “You could always fall in love too.”

Shen Yiqiong replied, “With who? The only woman here is Shibo…” He trailed off and shuddered visibly, clearly remembering something Lin Jue had done in the past.

“You’ve still got Shixiong,” Zhou Jiayu teased.

Shen Yiqiong said, “Shixiong…”

“I’m leaving now. You two chat,” Shen Musi interrupted, taking his noodles and slipping away, leaving Shen Yiqiong sitting there with a sorrowful expression. “I wasn’t even talking about you! Why are you acting so disgusted?!”

By noon they finally reached their destination. After so many hours on the train, their bodies felt stiff and sore.

As the train neared She Mountain, they could already see plumes of black smoke rising from the forested hills. There were no visible flames anymore, but it was obvious the fire had been severe.

“Let’s hope everything’s okay,” Zhou Jiayu murmured, holding the paper figurine close as they disembarked. But the little figure struggled in his arms.

“What’s wrong?”

“Gone… they’re all gone…” The paper figurine suddenly broke into wailing sobs, its voice hoarse and desperate. “Everything’s gone…”

Hearing its words, Zhou Jiayu’s heart sank. He knew then that the situation on She Mountain must be terribly bad.

__

Author’s Note:
Zhou Jiayu: Kiss on the collarbone.
Lin Zhushui: Endures.
Zhou Jiayu: Kiss on the eye.
Lin Zhushui: Still endures.
Zhou Jiayu: Kiss…
Lin Zhushui (shouldering Zhou Jiayu and tossing him onto the bed): Not enduring anymore.