Chapter 40

Song Shuling had long since lost the concept of summer vacation. For him, the season held no special memories.

Every place he went had constant temperature and humidity control, with the same air conditioning running 24/7, maintaining the same temperature. No matter what the season, to Song Shuling, there was little difference.

It was all the same.

Just like the first thirty-one years of his life. For others, the seasons were distinct, each with its own vivid colors. But Song Shuling’s life seemed to be perpetually in autumn—cold, dry, and steady, maintaining a calm and stable pace.

But now, he had Ruan Zhen in his arms.

And Ruan Zhen had eyes like spring water.

When he smiled, they sparkled brightly, and even when he cried, it was a beautiful sight. Occasionally, he would turn his head, and his gaze would meet Song Shuling’s, clear and almost transparent.

It was impossible to resist.

Song Shuling was late several times in a row.

His friends, knowing he had found happiness, joked that he was now a king who no longer rises early for court.

That wouldn’t do. He still had to go to work.

Song Shuling was a man who cared about his image. In some ways, he was quite conventional, believing that a serious man was the most attractive, and that his partner was most charming when working.

He thought he looked good, and Ruan Zhen would be drawn to his strong, muscular arms. But what truly captured Ruan Zhen’s heart was his ability to handle problems methodically, tackling each one with precision.

Song Shuling was always composed.

He wanted to maintain his perfect image in front of Ruan Zhen.

Ruan Zhen, of course, had long seen through all of this.

To put it bluntly, Song Shuling, who wasn’t even nearsighted, insisted on wearing glasses when reading. He was always showing off, like a peacock spreading its feathers, and he had gotten used to it.

It was all for the best.

Because if Song Shuling clung to him all day, Ruan Zhen would truly be troubled.

Now, Ruan Zhen’s daily routine was very regular.

Every two days, he visited Zhang Laotou and the yellow dog at the nursing home, spending about half a day there. Zhang Laotou had already recovered enough to walk without a brace, and he was obsessed with card games, forming an alliance with Eldest Brother Song to dominate the tables.

After returning home, he would use his free time to read at the library.

He would calculate when Song Shuling would be back and leave his desk just in time to arrive home almost simultaneously. The parrot, Ball, would fly around them, its black eyes filled with discontent.

The reason was simple: Song Shuling had locked the bedroom door.

No amount of wire could pry it open.

Song Shuling had good intentions. After their nightly activities, the bed could end up in any state, and he didn’t want the child to see anything that might leave a psychological scar.

The parrot didn’t understand; it just found them annoying.

Now that they were both inside, they had to speak in hushed tones, shoulders touching, cheeks brushing. Sometimes, when Song Shuling said something, Ruan Zhen would shake his head in silence, saying, “You’re trying to kill me.”

He occasionally used “you” to address Song Shuling.

Song Shuling found it quite titillating.

“It won’t be like that,”

He wrapped his arms around Ruan Zhen from behind, his chin resting on his shoulder, acting like a rogue. “It might be quite interesting… Want to try?”

Ruan Zhen assessed his own physical condition and decisively refused.

He didn’t want to end up unconscious on the bed, which would be too embarrassing.

There was no way he could match Song Shuling’s physical prowess. Song Shuling, a martial arts enthusiast and fitness fanatic, was simply too strong.

What was even more terrifying was Song Shuling’s incredible patience.

In many situations, such patience wasn’t necessary.

Because if Song Shuling lacked patience, Ruan Zhen would be the one suffering.

But if Song Shuling was too patient, Ruan Zhen would still suffer.

Ruan Zhen called him a dog.

And Song Shuling acted even more like one.

He loved trying new things, bringing back all sorts of novel items to experiment with Ruan Zhen, studying and practicing them together.

The only good habit he had was that the marks he left were invisible to others.

They were all in hidden places, like the nipples, the sides of the waist, and the roots of the thighs.

He didn’t even need to wear a high-collar sweater.

So during the day, they both looked perfectly normal—one in a suit, the other in a hoodie and jeans, heading to the office or the library, disciplined and restrained, with a serious air about them.

Who would have thought that once they were behind closed doors, they would engage in so many new and exciting activities?

Ruan Zhen had initially thought he couldn’t accept such things, but he later realized that it all depended on the person. If it was Song Shuling, he could close his eyes and trust him completely, even giving him the most vulnerable part of his neck.

Song Shuling would lean down and gently bite his Adam’s apple.

It seemed he loved Ruan Zhen so much that he didn’t know what to do with himself, unable to stop kissing and biting.

By summer, Zhang Laotou had mostly recovered. He brought the yellow dog along, and Song Shuling drove them to the dam. They spent the day by the stream, picking up stones and searching for snails hidden beneath.

They took the snails back, and the village chief, Huang Yang, cooked them in a wok. The dish was delicious.

The library was already under construction, and the road planning was ongoing. As they left, the village chief’s wife came out with a bag of grapes, saying they could eat them on the way.

Ruan Zenu sat in the passenger seat, turning to smile at Song Shuling.

“Do you remember the first time you came to the dam? I put two apples in your bag when we left.”

“I remember,” Song Shuling turned the steering wheel, his eyes gentle. “I didn’t eat them on the way. I kept them in the bedroom and smelled them for a long time.”

Fortunately, the journey was long, and Zhang Laotou was already asleep in the back seat. The yellow dog just scratched its ear and buried its head, pretending not to hear.

Song Shuling chuckled softly, taking Ruan Zhen’s hand during a red light.

“Stop it,”

Ruan Zhen was also smiling. “We’ll talk about it when we get home.”

They were now living together in their shared home. The workaholic had developed a sense of domesticity, declining unnecessary social gatherings and shamelessly turning to others, saying he had someone waiting at home.

He would ask, “Don’t you have a wife waiting for you?”

At Song Shuling’s age, most of his friends had settled down and married, but none of them were as boastful as he was. Despite his boasting, he kept Ruan Zhen hidden, never bringing him out in public.

The reason was simple: Ruan Zhen didn’t want to.

He was quite low-key, and given the events that had transpired, even though Song Shuling had handled everything and no one dared to say anything, he still didn’t want to draw attention.

The young men involved had all paid for their actions—some went to jail, others went bankrupt, and all were dealt with.

In September, Ruan Zhen was about to start school. He had initially planned to live on campus or rent a single room in a youth apartment, but Song Shuling, using both persuasion and pressure, convinced him to agree. They bought a small apartment nearby, which would be their home for the next three years.

Oh, and there was also a parrot.

There was no way Song Shuling could sleep without holding Ruan Zhen.

He was regressing.

In the morning, he would even pester Ruan Zhen to tie his tie for him.

When he came home from work, Ruan Zhen would usually just arrive. They would cook together in the kitchen, occasionally opening a bottle of wine, or going out to eat. Song Shuling would ride his motorcycle, carrying Ruan Zhen through the quiet night, and even if they missed a restaurant, they would laugh and leave together, buying a snack on the way back.

At home, after a shower, one would sit on the sofa reading, while the other would open the computer to work. Eventually, the one on the computer would stop and join the other on the sofa, and soon they would end up together.

The parrot would swing on its perch, used to their antics and too lazy to pay attention.

They didn’t do it every day, but they always kissed.

On weekends, they were even more adventurous.

Ruan Zhen was always the first to give in. He was naturally lazy and couldn’t match Song Shuling’s exercise routine, so he would lie on the bed, pretending to be dead, while Song Shuling kissed his neck.

By the end, he would be so exhausted that he couldn’t even lift his fingers.

The next day, they would sleep well, staying in bed together, not wanting to get up.

They wanted to stay like this, holding each other, sleeping soundly in the warmth of their love.

Especially on winter days, when the sun was warm.

One day, it snowed, and they had built a small snowman in the yard the night before. When Ruan Zhen came back, his face and hands were red. He almost fell asleep in the bath, while Song Shuling talked on the phone with Zhang Laotou, listening to him describe how the snow used to be so clean that they would store it in clay jars to use for tea in the summer, which helped cool the body.

“I’m a bit sleepy,”

Ruan Zhen yawned, a towel on his head. “Can we go to bed early tonight?”

Song Shuling pulled him back. “Dry your hair first.”

The bathroom still had a faint scent of rose oil from Ruan Zhen’s bath, which hadn’t dissipated. The hairdryer was set to the most comfortable setting, and Song Shuling skillfully dried his hair. “Why are you so sleepy? Did you play too much earlier?”

“I don’t know,” Ruan Zhen closed his eyes lazily. “Maybe it’s winter, and I just feel sleepy.”

Of course, he was like a small animal, seeking warmth.

The warm air from the hairdryer was comforting, but it couldn’t compare to Song Shuling’s body. When he was carried to bed, he buried his face in Song Shuling’s chest, rubbing against him.

Song Shuling “hissed” softly, half in exasperation, patting his lower back. “Stop it.”

If he kept touching, it would lead to something else.

Ruan Zhen ignored him, continuing to rub against him.

“Are you cold?”

Song Shuling sat up, pulling Ruan Zhen’s hand away, and carefully examined his face. It was slightly red, but not hot, and he didn’t have a fever.

“I’m not cold,” Ruan Zhen smiled. “I just want you to hold me.”

Song Shuling lay back down. “Okay, I’ll hold you.”

He loved someone who was always cold.

So he held him even tighter.

Ruan Zhen didn’t say anything, not telling Song Shuling that he had had a dream while bathing.

Perhaps the heavy snow had awakened some memories. It was strange how such a short time could produce such a long and complex dream.

It started in the dam, where he ran through the thick snow back to the house, shaking off the white powder at the door. He took two oranges from his pocket and carefully placed them on the stove to warm up, as Song Shuling was about to return, and they would eat together.

No wonder it was a dream; they weren’t even together back then, so why would he sit and wait for someone?

Then the snow grew heavier and heavier.

Ruan Zhen felt like a fish swimming through his memories in a blue dream, but his head ached, and his body was falling uncontrollably. The rose-scented water gently enveloped him.

He found himself in a desolate cemetery.

The winter was harsh, and a man in a black coat walked through the snow, looking at a tombstone in silence.

He reached out and brushed away the snow on the tombstone.

Ruan Zhen thought the man looked familiar, but he couldn’t recognize him. He wanted to speak but couldn’t open his mouth, only hearing the man’s hoarse voice.

“Eldest Brother, the Song family is completely finished.”

Ruan Zhen stood frozen.

He vaguely thought that the young men’s reckless behavior had led to their downfall, so of course, the family was finished.

When the man turned his face, all the memories flooded back, and Ruan Zhen forgot to breathe.

It was Song Shuling.

And in the moment their eyes met, he woke up suddenly.

The bathtub splashed water from his sudden movement, his heart racing, and his ears ringing.

Ruan Zhen clung to the edge of the bathtub, his fingers turning white from the force.

In the blur between dream and reality, the snow continued to fall outside.

But there was a difference—

The real Song Shuling was drying his hair, holding him in bed, and kissing his hair.

“If you’re cold, it’s okay. I’ll hold you while you sleep.”

The warmth of his breath on his ear, just like so many ordinary nights, they would sleep together, holding each other.

Ruan Zhen opened his eyes and smiled. “It’s normal to feel cold in winter.”

Song Shuling placed his hand on his chest. “That means spring is coming soon.”

He held Ruan Zhen and talked about how in spring, they could go see the apple blossoms covering the hills, the new green buds on the willow trees, and the lingering cold winds that wouldn’t matter because the days would gradually warm up.

“And I will always love you.”

Song Shuling closed his eyes and gently kissed Ruan Zhen’s hand.

He swore to his beloved that he would always be loyal.

So they wouldn’t fear the cold but would look forward to the warmth of the future.

“When the snow melts, spring will come, right?”

“Yes.”

Ruan Zhen closed his eyes, smiling and rubbing his cheek against Song Shuling’s. “When that happens, we’ll go buy flowers together.”

“Okay,”

Song Shuling held him.

“Then we’ll go home together.”

(The End)