Archive of Our Own ^beta

Sang Zhi doesn’t answer his messages anymore.

He doesn’t realize this immediately—work takes up most of his energy now, and it isn’t like he and Sang Zhi texted frequently back when he was still in university. Still, they saw each other often, and he’s always been fond of her. Sang Yan has been the one updating him on Sang Zhi’s life ever since he moved back to Yihe—her exam timings, her grades, if she’s getting into trouble at school with her teachers.

Duan Jiaxu doesn’t mind that she doesn’t text him first anymore—after all, he can’t imagine that talking to your older brother’s best friend is at the top of a teenager’s list of Fun Things To Do, but…he does text her, sometimes, wishing her luck on an upcoming exam, asking her how school has been, if she’s been having any trouble with the material. Words like good job! and congratulations! and feel free to send gege any problems you can’t solve. i’ll write out the solution for you when i can.

But she never answers.

And this is fine. She isn’t obligated to answer. Duan Jiaxu knows this.

A year after he’s situated himself back in Yihe, his own messages begin to dwindle. Sang Zhi is in her final year of high school. She has to concentrate. It’s better if he leaves her alone.

A year after that, he gets a call from Sang Yan while he’s driving home from work.

“Hey, listen,” Sang Yan starts, his voice cracking through the static of the line, “there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” says Duan Jiaxu, and Sang Yan clicks his tongue in response, before sighing.

“Sang Zhi and I aren’t talking to each other right now,” he says.

Duan Jiaxu huffs. “Oh yeah? What did you do?”

“It’s a little insulting that you immediately think it’s me who did something,” says Sang Yan, “but okay, well, ugh. Whatever. I’ll let it slide for now.”

“So sweet of you.”

“Shut up and listen to me. She told me today that she applied to Yihe University! Without telling me! And she got in!”

Duan Jiaxu blinks.

Yihe University? What?

“What?”

“Yes,” says Sang Yan, “which means she’s going to move all the way to Yihe. And she didn’t even bother to ask me for permission? I only found out a few hours ago because I came back while she was celebrating with my parents in the living room!”

Duan Jiaxu’s head is spinning. “So she had your parents’ approval already. She didn’t need yours.”

“Fuck you,” says Sang Yan. “You’re not allowed to take her side on this. Did you know she applied? She had to have told you, right? Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

“I…” Duan Jiaxu trails off. “She…didn’t tell me.”

“Huh?” says Sang Yan. A beat passes. “Well, that makes me feel better about it, at least.”

“Shut up,” says Duan Jiaxu. He swallows. “So she’s accepted? She’s really coming?”

Sang Yan groans. “Yeah, she is. Ugh, do you think I was too harsh on her?”

“Probably,” says Duan Jiaxu.

“You’re biased against me.”

“I am not.”

“Yes you are. You always have been.”

“That’s your own problem,” says Duan Jiaxu. “I’m hanging up now. Don’t bother me again until tomorrow.”

“Bother you? Duan Jiaxu, you—”

The line goes quiet. Duan Jiaxu has half a mind to snort down at the console. 

He doesn’t. The words she applied to Yihe university are currently clouding his mind.

Sang Zhi? In Yihe? With him? 

He parks his car and pulls his cell phone out, scrolling down to her name and promptly ignoring the flurry of messages left unanswered up above.

You 【2017年7月25日15:39】
your ge told me you’re coming to yihe for university.

He frowns down at the message, then begins to type why didn’t you tell me? before hastily backspacing. He sighs, then tries again.

You 【2017年7月25日15:41】
congratulations! gege is very proud of you. when does the semester start? i’ll help you move into your dorm.
if you don’t need help, at least let me treat you to a meal. ok? 

He clicks his phone shut and throws it onto the passenger seat. Then he leans his forehead onto the steering wheel and lets out a groan so guttural it vibrates through his skull.

He knows she won’t respond. He doesn’t know why. She probably hates him. He doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know why.

“Sang Zhi?”

She looks different. Two years have passed, so of course she does. Of course. Her hair is in a bun and her bangs are wavier now, wispier, framing her delicate face and falling right over her eyes. They’re shining, he thinks, though maybe that’s just the lighting playing tricks on him. Eyeliner curls over the lids, and if he trails down a bit more, he can see her lips are dusted rouge. 

He stands up, as if on autopilot, bending down to grab the pack of cigarettes lying on the floor.

He looks down at them, then back up at her. “You started smoking now?”

She swallows. When she speaks, Duan Jiaxu tries his very best to ignore the realization that this is the first time he’s heard her voice in years. “I don’t smoke. Those aren’t mine.”

She reaches for the pack. Duan Jiaxu darts his grip away.

“I just clearly saw it fall out of your pocket,” he says, to which she doesn’t respond immediately. He releases a breath through his nose. “You’ve picked up bad habits. I’m confiscating it.”

“No—I already told you they’re my friend’s,” she says, quiet. “They must have misplaced it, so if you don’t give it back—”

“You’ve been drinking too,” he cuts in, and god, he can’t stand this. Whatever it is. Sang Zhi is barely even looking at him right now. Every single delivered text message is rushing back to him, carving their words into his skull and letting them rot there.

She looks away. “Just a little.”

He takes a deep breath. Steps a little closer. “I’ll put the rest aside. It’s been so long since we last met and you didn’t even greet me.”

He picks, and he prods, and if he’s being honest, he doesn’t even really know what he’s doing right now. He has no right to stop her from doing what she wants—he never did, anyways. He isn’t her real brother. He isn’t her real family. He’s just…Sang Yan’s roommate. Her temporary physics tutor. 

But still—

“Jiaxu-ge.”

He feels his face soften. “Did you come here to have fun?”

“Mm,” she nods. “We’re celebrating my roommate’s birthday.”

He finds himself asking, “When did your military training end?”

“Last month.”

“You didn’t visit me during Golden Week either.”

“I had classes—” She cuts herself off.

Duan Jiaxu’s mouth twists. “Classes during the holiday?”

“I spoke without thinking,” she amends quickly. “I had to go for my part-time job.”

“Ah,” he says, lips parting as he leans back slightly. “A part-time job, huh? Makes sense. I used to work part-time too.”

She looks up at him.

He glances away. “And when I wasn’t working part-time, I went to meet your teachers, I did your homework, and I sent you to and from school.” He pauses, looks down at her figure to see her looking towards her feet. “How ungrateful. This xiao pengyou has no conscience at all.” 

God. What is he doing?

“Jiaxu-ge,” she starts, “you were a senior back then. I was in my first year. I was probably busier than you.”

He scoffs. “Are you calling me old now? Sang Zhi.” He leans down, meets her at eye-level. “Take a moment and reflect on the past few years. What exactly did gege do wrong to you?”

“I never said you did anything wrong,” says Sang Zhi.

He searches her face, finds freckles of uncertainty lining her features.

“Also,” she says, “I’m an adult now, so don’t you think it’s a little awkward to still call me xiao pengyou?”

He smiles, at this. “How old can you be? Of course you’re still a xiao pengyou.”

She doesn’t answer immediately, her eyes glazing over, like she’s been struck with something hard and heavy. Something that weighs down on her shoulders. She nods, and it’s a small thing, “You’re right. I’m still a kid. Two years…you’ve indeed aged.”

He snaps his gaze back to her, feels something rush into his chest. “Sang Zhi,” he says, “check your phone and see how many messages I’ve sent you. You didn’t even reply once.” She opens her mouth. Duan Jiaxu continues, “Why didn’t you answer me?”

He supposes it’s not particularly right of him to throw this at her so soon, but also, he doesn’t really care. He’s felt like a throwaway for so long—so long that Sang Zhi can’t possibly even begin to fathom it. She doesn’t know the effect her silence had on him. She shouldn’t know, either. He knows this. He’s aware of it. He shouldn’t burden her with something so silly.

And yet.

“I—” She stutters, like she’s looking for something to say. Duan Jiaxu doesn’t move away. “I told you, didn’t I? I had class.”

Class. Right. “So you had to completely cut me off?”

He’s smiling as he says it, like it’ll hide anything at all. He wonders if she can see. He wonders if it even matters to her. He wonders if he even matters to her—wonders if he ever did.

“Of course I had to,” she says, and oh.

Yeah. That’s right. Of course she had to. It wouldn’t make sense for her to stay in contact with him. He’s just her brother’s silly friend. They’ve never been anything more than acquaintances. Everything he did for her, no matter how much he took her as his own little sister…it didn’t matter in the end. It wasn’t mutual.

He’s known this for so long. He’s known this for so long. After all, what else could two years of radio silence mean? What else could she possibly be thinking?

It was like a switch—one moment, he was running to the airport to pick her up after getting that text from Sang Yan. The words my meimei is at the yihe airport right now. said she went because her online boyfriend told her to come. can you go get her? call me when you see this.

The way he had rushed over immediately, found her sitting in the corner of the airport with her head hanging off of her shoulders, the tears she had shed as she cried to him about how the guy didn’t like her, that he said she was too young for him, that she liked him so much she could barely breathe.

Now, here, he stares down at her. She isn’t meeting his eyes anymore, as if looking into them will burn her, blind her for good.

Then she’s speaking again, and it’s all white noise against the ringing in his ears.

“If I didn’t cut you off, how could I get into Yihe University?” she’s saying, and her eyebrows curve over her forehead like this is the most obvious thing in the world. Like she really, seriously did not have anything against him that would make her do what she did.

So he nods. He nods and he ignores the red blooming behind his cheeks. “Very well,” he says, because really, there’s nothing more he can say. Not here. Not like this. Not after two years. “It’s getting late.”

“I’m leaving soon,” she says.

He nods. “Go and get your things. I’ll send you back.”

Her eyes widen. “You don’t need to!” she says quickly. “I can go back with my friends.”

His mouth snaps shut. “Fine,” he says.

She turns to leave.

“Sang Zhi,” he calls before he can stop himself, and really, it’s stupid. All of this is so stupid. She turns back to look at him, and for a moment, Duan Jiaxu forgets what he had been planning on saying. Was he even going to say anything? He doesn’t know. Maybe he just wanted to call her name one more time, prolong this moment for as long as possible.

She doesn’t say anything, simply looks back at him in question.

He breathes. “It’s been a long time. You’ve learned how to wear makeup now, too.” She inhales sharply, and he smiles. “You’re right. You are different from before.”

She looks lost for a moment, and then she’s nodding, quickly, before scurrying up the stairs and disappearing into the building. 

And, once again, he’s alone.

Just as always.

“By the way,” he says later, because somehow, he’s found himself standing on her school campus, dropping her off right outside her dorm, “I’m by myself here, in Yihe. When your brother told me you were coming here for university…I was really happy.”

He realizes, belatedly, that it’s true. He was happy. He is happy. Despite everything, Sang Zhi is still here. And it isn’t like he has anyone else here that he can rely on. 

She tells him goodnight, and he watches her go up to her room with a smile.

You 【2017年8月3日13:27】
why don’t you ever respond to gege’s wechat messages? little white-eyed wolf.

You 【2017年9月29日11:28】
it’s a holiday on october 1st. gege will treat you to dinner, ok?

You 【2017年11月18日23:32】
if you’re ever out so late again, find someone to accompany you back.

Sang Zhi 【2017年11月18日23:33】
okay

He feels a spark of it when he’s being rolled into the operating room, when Sang Zhi is gripping the edge of his hospital bed and staring down at him with worry shrouding her eyes. He thinks, briefly, that she should never have to look that way ever again. 

Especially not to him.

But really, honestly, it starts later. Not much later, but…later, when his cheeks are wet and burning and Sang Zhi is throwing hot water at Jiang Ying’s face. It’s retaliation, obviously, and Duan Jiaxu would think it made sense for her to do something so extreme if it were for literally any other reason.

But no. She did it for him. There is no denying that much, at least. Without knowing anything, without even stopping to hear Jiang Ying out, she stood to her feet and did something so brazen, so entirely unnecessary.

For him.

And when has anyone ever— ever— done something like that? For him? No one else has. No one else ever will. That much is certain.

“It’s none of your business! Do you even know why I did that to him?”

“I don’t care why you did that to him. Listen, if you can assault him, I can assault you. Got it?”

The scene replays in his mind as he watches her dab his face with his scarf. She looks so quietly determined like this, like the only thing that matters right now is making sure he isn’t hurt, that he’s okay.

“Jiaxu-ge,” she says as she slips on her own coat after fixing his, “who was that woman?”

He swallows, looks away from her for a small moment. “She’s someone unimportant.”

She doesn’t let up. Curiosity flares in the way she watches him.

He sighs. “I guess…she’s my father’s former creditor.”

“Oh,” she says. “I remember now. I ran into her once.”

“What?” Anger flashes in his chest. “Did she do anything to you?”

She shakes her head.

It’s embarrassing. Sang Zhi doesn’t know, after all. Maybe if she did…

“Jiaxu-ge.”

His eyes flit upward, finding hers through the darkness of the evening.

“You said she’s your father’s former creditor,” she continues. “So it doesn’t have anything to do with you. You shouldn’t let her bully you.”

“I—” He laughs. “How could she ever bully me?”

She stares at him pointedly, looks down to the spot on his cheek that still faintly pulses with heat. Then she takes a small bottle of what looks to be ointment out of her bag and unscrews the cap.

“Sang Zhi, I’m fine,” he murmurs, “you don’t need to—”

Her hand comes up and brushes the line of his cheek, and moments later, he feels her finger gently rubbing the cream into his skin. She doesn’t look at him while she works, brows gently furrowed, and oh, yeah, she really…

She’s older now. He knows this. She doesn’t stop reminding him, after all. I’m an adult now. I don’t like it when you call me xiao pengyou. I’ve grown up. It might take him two hands to count on his fingers how many times he’s heard her say some variation of those words.

She’s older, yes, but…she’s still Sang Zhi. His best friend’s younger sister. Years ago, he took her as his own younger sister, introduced her as his meimei to anyone who asked him who she was. He bought her drinks and chided her on studying harder, helped her with her homework and cooked her breakfast before lessons. She’s someone he would readily lay down his life for. She always has been.

“Does it hurt?” she asks quietly, her voice just barely above a whisper.

He shakes his head, watches her eyes as they blink steadily in time with the growing beat of his heart. “No,” he says.

She backs away, looks down at her hands as she screws the bottle shut.

Duan Jiaxu swallows. “I forgot to say this earlier,” he says. “Thank you, Sang Zhi.”

She smiles, and it’s soft, and it’s unlike any of the other smiles she has given him before, and then it’s snowing. 

It’s snowing. 

He notices it first in Sang Zhi’s hair—flecks of white dusting the top of her head, and when he looks up toward the clouds, he feels as if he could cry. 

She turns away from him, gasping as she takes in the sight before them, and for one, inexplicable moment, Duan Jiaxu wants nothing more than to reach out and touch her, feel her hair thread through his fingers, grasp her in the palm of his hand.

She turns back to face him before he makes contact, and then she smiles up at him so brightly he feels like he can’t breathe.

She’s beautiful. Of course, he’s known this. It’s objective, how pretty she is. But…right here, right now, with snow melting on her eyelashes and a flush across her cheeks that’s almost painful to look at, she seems impossibly ethereal, somehow both real and unreal at once. 

Something strikes him. He wonders what she would taste like, whether she would be cold, or if his mouth would burn when he kissed her, because despite all of her beauty, there are parts of her that are still human.

She moves, then, fluttering off further past him until she’s several feet away and closing her eyes and clasping her hands together, bringing them up to her chin. She stays that way for a few moments, then looks back over her shoulder at him, grins and asks, “Aren’t you going to make a wish? This is the first snowfall of the year.”

He wonders what he looks like right now. What kind of expression he’s making.

“Yihe doesn’t get snow very often,” he says. “I was in tenth grade the last time it snowed.”

She giggles, “Then I guess that means I’m quite lucky.”

Oh, if only she knew. “I’m lucky too,” he murmurs. “I get to see the snowfall with you.”

She doesn’t immediately answer, finding his eyes through the flurry of snow.

He tilts his head, releasing a breath through his nose. “A wish made at the first snowfall is said to come true.”

“Mm,” she nods, smiling to herself, and Duan Jiaxu lets his eyes flutter shut as he wishes for Sang Zhi’s happiness and good health. He wonders what this means. He wonders if this changes anything—if it’s supposed to change anything. 

He wonders, and he wonders, and he wonders.

Maybe it was stupid of him to think he would be free once he finished paying off his father’s debt.

Scratch that—it was definitely stupid. What a young thought. How naive of him to be so hopeful. Not with someone as relentless as Jiang Ying constantly on his tail. No, he might never be free.

And, well, that might be okay. He might even deserve it. He hasn’t kept his promise to take care of her. He doesn’t want to. He’s selfish, and he’s cruel. He’s a product of his father. He might never escape his shadow. 

He splashes water onto his face and makes a desperate attempt at ignoring the voices inside his head. Flashes of his mother crying, his father’s broken face, Jiang Ying and her mother screaming at him now that they only have each other.

He shakes his head, turning the tap off and not bothering to reach for a towel to wipe his face. Instead, he trudges into his living room and kneels down by the framed photos next to his TV, finds the one of him sitting outside next to his mother—his beautiful, beautiful mother—and swallows hard enough that he can hear it.

“I’m sorry, ma,” he whispers, feeling a droplet of water slide down his face, “I can’t do it.”

Then he reaches for the graduation picture he took with Sang Zhi, grips it tightly in his hands, thinks back to her dabbing ointment onto the burn on his face.

Hah.

Sang Zhi 【2018年1月1日00:04】
happy new year jiaxu-ge, i hope you’re happy every day :) 

You 【2018年1月1日00:04】
happy new year, sang zhi :) 

Sang Zhi 【2018年1月1日00:04】
i’m watching the fireworks! are you??

You 【2018年1月1日00:05】
[Attachment: 1 image]
i am :)
they’re so beautiful

As he stares at the little post-it notes Sang Zhi left for him around his apartment, he decides that he must be going crazy.

“Didn’t you say you were going on a blind date?” Qian Fei had asked, to which Duan Jiaxu pulled a face and replied, “No way, what blind date?” and Qian Fei had asked, “Well has anyone caught your eye?” and Duan Jiaxu’s mind immediately went to—

Moments later, he hung up and flinched away from his phone as he dropped onto the desk in front of him.

And so: crazy. He must be going crazy. There is quite literally no other explanation for whatever the hell is happening to him right now. After all, why else would he be having such…such thoughts? About Sang Zhi? Of all people?

It gets weirder when he feels…uncomfortable, maybe, about Siyun calling Sang Zhi his relative’s child.

It’s what he introduced her as, of course, so it shouldn’t feel unsettling.

And yet.

You 【2018年1月9日20:12】
when are your exams? have you bought your flight tickets for the school break yet?

Sang Zhi 【2018年1月9日20:13】
next week! i bought a ticket for the 19th

You 【2018年1月9日20:13】
okay

He bites his bottom lip, reaching for a pad of sticky notes and quickly scribbling down flight on the 19th. The corners of his lips quirk upward as he sticks it to his cup nearby.

The 19th. That’s…a while away, and if he remembers correctly, Sang Zhi’s exams end earlier.

He reaches for his phone again.

You 【2018年1月9日20:15】
when will you be free after your exams? let’s get dinner together?

Okay. That’s fine. That’s a perfectly normal text to send to your…best friend’s younger sister.

Right.

Fuck.

It’s fine. Duan Jiaxu curls his hands into fists as he looks pointedly away from his phone.

It chimes a second later. He scrambles to see the notification sitting at the top of his screen.

Sang Zhi 【2018年1月9日20:17】
i probably won’t have time

Oh.

Well. Okay. That’s fine too. She’ll probably be going out with her friends, so it makes sense that she won’t be free. Forget it.

You 【2018年1月9日20:19】
alright

He puts his phone down. There’s no point in dwelling on it. There’s also no point in feeling disappointed.

Yes. Good.

Back to work he goes.

You 【2018年1月18日20:55】
you’re going home tomorrow, have you finished packing?
i’ll take you to the airport

“Hello?” comes Sang Zhi’s voice through the line.

Duan Jiaxu glances at the clock on his office wall. “Why didn’t you answer my message, ah?”

Silence.

Duan Jiaxu’s brows furrow. “Hello? Sang Zhi?”

More silence. He can make out the faint sound of music playing in the background of the call.

“Where are you?” he asks.

“I’m at…” A pause. “I’m at a bar.”

Ah. “Who are you with?”

“My classmates.”

Duan Jiaxu sighs, closing his eyes. “You’re drunk, aren’t you?”

“...Just a little.”

Okay. “What bar are you at?”

“Umm…Qinghong 2002…” She trails off for a second, and then, in what is possibly the most adorable English Duan Jiaxu has ever heard, “Music Bar.”

“All right,” he says, already reaching for his things, “you wait inside. I’m heading over.”

“Wait,” she starts, “what are you going to do when you get here?”

“I’m going to catch a drunkard,” he says, before hanging up.

He gets there just in time to see a man practically throwing himself onto Sang Zhi.

“I’ll help you over to that bench,” he’s saying, his arms coming up to circle around her shoulders, and Sang Zhi is—

Duan Jiaxu stops, takes in the sight of her curled up on the ground, her head buried in her knees as she shakes her head. “No, no, it’s okay,” she’s saying as she sways drunkenly. “I’m really okay, I’m really okay, don’t touch me—”

Duan Jiaxu sees red.

He strides over, grabbing onto the stranger’s arm and yanking him up and away from Sang Zhi. The stranger is taller than him, just by a few centimeters, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. Sang Zhi is sitting on the floor and in his periphery he can see her looking up at him.

His jaw tightens. “What are you doing?” he asks the man.

“Jiaxu-ge,” comes Sang Zhi’s mumbling voice from below.

Duan Jiaxu exhales, glances at her. Her eyes are sparkling against the dim street light, and if he looks closer, he can see stars in them. “Come up,” he says, and then he reaches down to help her up, curls his fingers around her wrist as she gently leans against his side.

“Are you Sang Zhi’s da-ge?” asks the man, and Duan Jiaxu makes a note of how annoying his voice is. “I’m Sang Zhi’s classmate.” Annoying Voice smiles at Sang Zhi, and oh, his face is annoying too. How wonderful. “My name is Jiang Ming.”

“Hello,” says Duan Jiaxu shortly. “I’m here now, so you can go. Thank you.”

Jiang Ming blinks, clearly slightly taken aback. Not that Duan Jiaxu gives a shit—he wants this guy out of his sight immediately. There is something gross and very awful bubbling up within his chest and he wants it to be gone as soon as physically possible.

“Um,” says Jiang Ming, and then, “okay. I’ll…go back inside then.”

Duan Jiaxu nods, and a few seconds later, Jiang Ming is retreating back into the building where Sang Zhi’s other friends presumably are.

Later, Sang Zhi throws up on the sleeve of his jacket, and then she leans her head on Duan Jiaxu’s chest and they’re standing in the middle of the sidewalk and oh—

Oh.

He brings his hand up and cups his palm around her head and thinks, fuck, this is what it feels like. This is what it feels like to want. This is what it feels like to have something unattainable in his grasp, to want to reach for it, to hold it close and never let it go. Right here, with Sang Zhi in his arms—he feels that this is what he might have been born for. This is where his twisted life has led him: this moment, with her. This life, with her.

“Gege,” she says when he’s carrying her on his back and she’s quietly latched onto him, “I have a secret. I’ve been hiding it in my heart for a long time.”

He smiles, hoists her up slightly so that she’s more comfortable. “Do you want to tell me what it is?”

She does tell him. She tells him that there’s someone she likes, someone who doesn’t like her back, and if Duan Jiaxu didn’t have a steady head over his shoulders, he’s certain his grip on her would have loosened. He asks her who it is. She says she can’t tell him. She can’t tell him. Not even him. It shouldn’t hurt, but it does. Just a little. But also…he can understand her—why she wouldn’t tell him. Some things, he finds, are just too personal.

And then she starts crying, and Duan Jiaxu has never felt more useless in his life. She says that she’s sad, she’s so, so sad, and god, he doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say. He knows she wouldn’t be saying any of this if it weren’t for the alcohol. He knows that he isn’t supposed to know, that they aren’t young anymore, that he really has absolutely no right over her personal life.

But he still—

“You really can’t tell me who it is?” he asks softly, the words dropping like hot coal out of his mouth.

Sang Zhi shakes her head. He feels it on his shoulder. 

“Then tell me what kind of person he is,” he says. His fingers curl around her thighs. She sniffs. “Does he treat you well? You can tell me that much, can’t you?”

He shouldn’t be doing this. He knows he shouldn’t be doing this. He knows this topic would never have come up if she were sober.

“He’s…” she starts, then stops. He hears something catch in her throat. Another sob racks out from her body. “He’s really nice. He treats me well, too.”

He’s really nice, she says, as if she isn’t sobbing right now. He treats me well too, she says, as if this person hasn’t wounded her heart and left her a shaking, crying mess.

“But he’s nice to everyone,” she says, and then her voice breaks, and something in Duan Jiaxu’s chest does as well. “He’s nice to everyone.”

“He’s made our Zhizhi so sad,” he says, mostly to himself, and then, “If he’s someone like that, then just stop liking him. Okay?”

She cries harder, and that…that’s answer enough, Duan Jiaxu thinks. I can’t stop liking him, she says without saying anything at all. I will never stop. I like him too much. Nothing you say will make me stop liking him.

He walks them to his car and tries desperately to keep his own tears at bay. It isn’t what Sang Zhi needs right now. But god, seeing her like this makes him want to find whoever this mystery guy is and punch him in the face, scream at him, how dare you make her feel so sad? How dare you not reciprocate her feelings? If I was the one she liked, I would—

He shakes the thought away, lowers her down into the passenger seat and reaches over her to clasp her seatbelt in. She’s asleep, he realizes belatedly as he takes his jacket off and drapes it over her body. Her face is splotched with tears and her hair is a mess and her cheeks are blooming red and she’s beautiful. There has never been anyone so beautiful before. There will never be anyone as beautiful again. There is only Sang Zhi. Sang Zhi. Sang Zhi. Sang Zhi. 

He pulls the car into her campus, and once he’s parked outside, he turns to her again and finds her sleeping figure resting soundly right next to him. Just as it should be.

It’s a frightening thought. It’s something that’s been building up slowly within him, and the truth is, he doesn’t know why it’s taken this long to realize what it is.

He loves her. He is, without a doubt, completely, irrevocably in love with her. He loves her so much he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He loves her so much that he can’t stand to see her with anyone else. So that’s the kind of guy you like, he thinks, then says it out loud, too, because she is sleeping, and she cannot hear him, and Duan Jiaxu thinks he might go mad if he doesn’t get this out into the open air right at this very moment.

“Is it okay if I become like that?” he whispers. His voice cracks through it. He doesn’t care. “What if I become like the guy you like? Then I would treat only you well. Nobody else. That way our Sang Zhi won’t be so sad anymore.” He wants to cry. He wants to scream. He wants to shake her awake and tell her how much he loves her but he can’t. He can’t. Not now. Not like this. “Letting someone else take care of you doesn’t put me at ease at all.”

She looks beautiful, like this, sleeping with his jacket over her in his car. He wonders if he’ll ever be able to tell her, when she likes someone else so much.

“If you don’t say anything,” he says softly, “I’ll take it as a yes.”

She sleeps on. He exhales faintly and turns away to look ahead.

His situation is better now. He’s paid off all of his debts. She won’t have to worry about his dirty past coming back to bite later—he’ll make sure of it. The only thing is…he’s older than her. Five years. It’s not a lot, really, but…they grew up together. It’s different. He’s her older brother’s friend. It’s different. It won’t be easy. She called him old when he was just twenty-one, and now, it’s been a few years, but…

God. What is he doing? What is he doing, imagining a future with her? This is Sang Zhi. There would be so many complications.

So why does he want to try?

You 【2018年1月19日09:06】
are you awake? i asked your roommate to wake you up at 9.
all the flights at this time are sold out, so you can’t change your flight. you have to get up!!! otherwise you won’t make it home!
drink a lot of water after you wake up. i’ll pick you up at 10 and take you to the airport.

He’s loading Sang Zhi’s luggage into the trunk of his car when Annoying Voice makes his second appearance in…less than twelve hours. Wow. All right.

“Did you need me for something?” Sang Zhi asks him, because she is a sweetheart and she probably can’t see his evilness herself.

“Um…” Jiang Ming shoots her a grin. “You were really drunk last night, so I don’t know…if you remember what I told you?”

She blinks up at him. “Oh, I’m…sorry. I don’t remember.”

“Oh, I—”

Duan Jiaxu slams the trunk shut, probably a little harder than necessary.

Jiang Ming turns at the sound. “Oh, Sang Zhi’s gege!”

Duan Jiaxu smiles and hopes it doesn’t look as fake as it feels. “You guys continue.”

Sang Zhi meets his eyes.

“Ah…” Jiang Ming starts again. “Sorry, Sang Zhi, I didn’t know your gege was also here.”

“Ah, um, it’s all right,” says Sang Zhi. “What were you saying just now?”

Duan Jiaxu purses his lips, then opens the driver’s seat door and slips inside to give her and her…friend, whatever, some privacy.

He can’t really tell what they’re talking about, but it looks…strangely serious, for some reason, and it’s then when a terrible thought occurs to Duan Jiaxu: is this the guy Sang Zhi cried over last night to him? Is it Annoying Voice? Of all people?

He thinks down this rabbit hole throughout the drive to the airport, after he’s swapped the package Jiang Ming gave her with a box of fruit and scarfed down the hamburger in her stead.

She starts explaining without being prompted: that she went to the bar yesterday as a celebration for ending her exams, that it wasn’t dangerous at all, that she went there with her roommates.

“Your roommates?” he asks. “What about the guy who came out with you yesterday? The one who is 195 centimeters tall? Is he also your roommate?”

“No that’s—that’s my roommate’s…boyfriend’s…friend.”

“Mm,” he nods. “Is it him?”

“Is what him?” she asks, turning to him.

“The guy you like,” he says. “Is it him?”

Immediately, she snaps her head away, like the sight of him burns her eyes.

“Is it?” he asks again.

“No,” she says quickly. “No, I—no.”

“No?” Okay. Great. That’s great news, actually. “Then tell me, if that isn’t your type, what—”

“I don’t want to tell you,” she cuts in, stuffing a piece of watermelon into her mouth. She swallows, then says, “Jiaxu-ge, your gum—”

“Is it a guy who is cute? Delicate-looking?”

“No, I…” She trails off, clearly searching for something to say. “He’s…manly?”

“Manly?” he repeats. “So you like someone who’s muscular.”

She coughs, then coughs again, and Duan Jiaxu thinks she is the most adorable human on the planet. Still, he can’t focus too much on that right now—he’s on a mission. He has to figure out her type.

“No,” she says again.

Duan Jiaxu clicks his tongue. “So…manly, but no muscles. And he’s nice to everyone.” He hums. “Sang Zhi, the guy you described sounds like a jerk.”

“He’s not a jerk!”

“Yes he is.”

“No he’s not!” She scoffs. “Jiaxu-ge, you’re too nosy.”

“I’m nosy?” He huffs. “I’ve never met a guy like that in my life. I’m curious, not nosy.”

“You’re nosy,” she says. “Can’t you leave it alone?”

“Fine,” he says, though really, it’s not very fine at all, and Duan Jiaxu feels as if he has made absolutely zero progress in this conversation.

A few moments of silence pass. After a while, Sang Zhi speaks up again: “Jiaxu-ge, you’re in your twenties now. How about you find a girlfriend for yourself instead of bothering me—”

“Where would I find a girlfriend?” says Duan Jiaxu. He wants to scoff. “How about you find one for me?”

“How can I,” she mutters. “I only know girls my age.”

“Your age?” He stops, because yes, good, this is an in. “That’s fine with me.”

It’s…probably the right thing to say. Maybe. Because Sang Zhi suddenly goes very quiet, and then she turns to look at him with the most bewildered expression he has ever seen on her.

“What does that mean?”

“What I just said,” he says. “It’s fine with me if she’s your age.”

She says nothing. For a moment, Duan Jiaxu wonders if that was too much, if it was the wrong thing to say, if he should take it back. 

He doesn’t. He looks over to see Sang Zhi staring down at her lap, playing with her fingers, and all he can do is hold back the urge to reach out and take them into his hands.

Duan Jiaxu describes the guy Sang Zhi likes to Qian Fei, only for him to be hit with a, “Huh? Isn’t that just you?”

At first, he thinks it’s a stupid idea. Then he considers it. Then he squashes it right back down, because that is nothing but dwindling hope singing a little song in his ear.

“No, no, it’s not likely,” he says, shaking his head.

Qian Fei chews noisily at his meat.

Duan Jiaxu frowns. “Though…I guess it is possible?”

“Right?!” says Qian Fei through another mouthful, and Duan Jiaxu tuts in disgust. “Listen, you have my swear, I’ve never met another guy who fits that description as well as you do!”

Then he turns to call for the waitress.

Duan Jiaxu stares at him.

No…no. No.

…Unless?

No.

But what if?

No.

…No.

He decides to test Qian Fei’s theory. 

You 【2018年2月25日09:43】
i’ve arrived in nanwu, see you soon

Sang Zhi 【2018年2月25日09:43】
okay

There’s no reason to text Sang Zhi this, but…he wants her to know. He wonders if she’ll notice the gesture is something new, from him. He wonders if she’ll care.

Later, at Qian Fei’s wedding dinner, he finds Sang Zhi’s eyes first—sees that she’s already staring back at him and immediately moves to fix his tie. It’s the one she gifted him, all those years ago. He made sure to pack it safely in the pocket of his suitcase.

“Come, Lao Duan,” says Sang Yan as Duan Jiaxu finds his seat next to him, “say something nice to me, and I’ll give you a hongbao for the New Year.”

Duan Jiaxu’s gaze shifts to Sang Zhi sitting next to her brother. “That’s an extremely difficult request,” he says, and before Sang Yan can tut his disapproval, he continues, “How about I call you gege?”

Immediately, Sang Yan scoffs. “What’s wrong with you? Call me da-ge instead. Da-ge is okay.”

Sang Zhi looks questioningly at Duan Jiaxu, like she’s trying to parse what’s going on inside his head. Duan Jiaxu shoots her a quick smile before turning his attention back to Sang Yan, leaning forward and saying, “Gege.”

Sang Zhi pulls a face, while their other friends around the table start chanting variations of eww and gross, and honestly, it doesn’t even matter, because Sang Yan is recoiling in disgust and Sang Zhi looks healthily confused. 

“Everyone,” says Duan Jiaxu, and then he reaches over and pats Sang Yan’s shoulder, “from this moment forward, Sang Yan is my gege!”

“There is something deeply wrong with you,” says Sang Yan. 

“Give in, gege. Give in.”

“Will you stop that—”

“But gege!”

“Shut the fuck up—”

“Gege,” says Sang Zhi.

“Do not call me that right now,” says Sang Yan immediately, whipping around to face her.

She deadpans a look at him.

“Ugh,” he says. “What is it?”

Then Sang Zhi leans closer to him, cups her hand around his ear as if it’ll make any difference. “Is there…something wrong with Jiaxu-ge?” she whispers, but Duan Jiaxu is close enough to be able to hear her anyways. “He seems…off.”

“Hah,” Sang Yan rolls his eyes. “I’ll tell you what’s wrong with him.” He reaches for his phone, typing something for a short moment before turning the screen to show her an internet search: “Yihe Psychiatric Hospital.”

“Don’t talk about me when I’m right here,” says Duan Jiaxu.

Sang Yan shoves his phone in his face. “Go straight there when you get back!”

“Aww, gege, you’re so considerate, finding a hospital for me and everything.”

“Will you stop calling me gege?”

“But why, gege?”

Sang Yan turns back to Sang Zhi. “Meimei, let’s switch seats.”

“No,” says Sang Zhi.

“Yes,” says Sang Yan, and then he stands up and grabs Sang Zhi’s shoulders, ignoring her yelp of protest as he forcibly drags her to his seat and pushes her down. “Excellent. You have fun dealing with…” He waves a nebulous hand in Duan Jiaxu’s direction, “...that.”

“I hate you,” says Sang Zhi.

“I don’t care,” says Sang Yan.

Meanwhile, Duan Jiaxu is feeling extremely pleased with himself. His end goal wasn’t even to get Sang Zhi to sit next to him—it was just to annoy Sang Yan and maybe, maybe get some kind of point across to Sang Zhi. What point? He doesn’t really know.

He reaches for his phone, swiping into his chat with her.

You 【2018年2月25日20:30】
why didn’t you say hi to me?

Her phone lights up from where it’s lying on the table between them. He catches the notification, sees his message below the contact name gege #2.

Okay.

What?

Sang Zhi reads the text just as another one comes in—from her parents, probably, and out of the corner of his eye, Duan Jiaxu skims it over.

“Who’s Zhizhi?” he asks.

She pauses for a second. “Like you don’t know. It’s my nickname.”

“Then why doesn’t your ge call you that?”

“Because he’s an idiot.”

He grins. “Who else calls you that?”

“The people who are close to me,” she says, eyes trained steadily onto her dinner. “My dad, my mom, aunt, uncle…”

“Mm,” he nods. “And what’s gege number two mean?”

She freezes, like a deer caught in headlights, and then she blinks rapidly. “Um,” she says. Duan Jiaxu tilts his head. “Sang Yan is gege number one…you’re gege number two. Is there a problem with that?”

He leans back, appraises her with a raised brow. “Why am I your gege number two?”

“You’re older than my ge,” she says, “so…you get to be number two.”

That doesn’t even make sense. “How old is the guy you like?”

“What?” she jerks up to meet his eyes again. “Where did that come from? Why do you care?”

“Tell me,” he says, then puts his chopsticks down and angles his body so that he is completely facing her. “Is he in your school year?”

“No,” she says, offering absolutely nothing else.

He raises a delicate eyebrow. “Who else do you know besides the people in your grade?”

“I know lots of people, actually,” she says. 

“How did you meet him, then?”

“We just hung out.”

“Hung out where?”

“A—a bar.”

“Ah,” he says, an idea forming in his head. “But when you were drunk, you told me you met him at KTV.”

Okay. Excellent. 

She fumbles, clearly taken aback. Then she shakes her head and looks away from him, “Oh—oh, yeah, I met him at KTV.” Bingo. “You’re right. I’ve—I’ve met so many people lately, so I got confused.”

Qian Fei is officially the smartest person Duan Jiaxu knows. He could kiss him right now. Actually, he couldn’t. But the sentiment is there, and that’s what matters.

Sang Zhi shakes her head suddenly, grabbing Sang Yan’s arm and yanking it toward her, “Switch seats with me.”

“Ouch! What the hell?”

“Switch seats with me,” says Sang Zhi again, and Duan Jiaxu hides his growing smile with his palm.

“Gege,” Duan Jiaxu drawls, “eat up, okay?”

“Bleugh,” Sang Yan shudders. Then, to Sang Zhi: “No way in hell. He’s yours to deal with tonight.”

“Gege, that’s mean. He’s your best friend!”

“That’s exactly why I can be mean to him,” says Sang Yan, and then he reaches out to flick her nose, and when she retreats with a sour look on her face, Duan Jiaxu laughs into his hand.

“For you,” Duan Jiaxu says, holding out the small box in his hands. “Your New Year’s gift.”

Sang Zhi stares down at it, her eyes going wide, and truthfully, this is the first time Duan Jiaxu has felt nervous today. Maybe it’s because they’re completely alone right now. Maybe it’s because he’s worried she won’t like what he got her. Whatever it is, he can practically hear his heart beating out of his chest as she gingerly accepts the present, running her fingers over the box before carefully prying it open.

He takes a step closer to her as she peers down at the bracelet. A small heart charm dangles off the end, her initials engraved into the silver. In the middle, a fox stares back at her. Her lips part when she notices it.

“...Thank you, Jiaxu-ge.”

He smiles softly. “Do you like it?”

After a moment, she blinks, then nods, and Duan Jiaxu feels his fingers curl into his hands by his side.

“Go up now, then,” he says, tilting his head in the direction of her front door. “Sleep early, okay?”

“Okay,” she says, and then she turns to leave, and Duan Jiaxu watches her as she walks slowly away and disappears inside.

He stays up all night to get a ticket on Sang Zhi’s flight.

In retrospect, it probably isn’t worth it, but also, it is worth it. Because it’s Sang Zhi.

For Sang Zhi, everything is worth it.

“Jiaxu-ge, did you not sleep well last night?” Sang Zhi asks as she rolls her suitcase over to him.

“Ah…” He swallows. “I had some work I had to finish up last night. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine.” He lifts up the paper bag in his hands. “Here, I brought some breakfast for you.”

“You didn’t have to,” she mutters, but she accepts the bag, so there’s that.

When they get to the airport and take a seat by the gate, and as Duan Jiaxu is taking his sweater off to give to Sang Zhi, a slightly-familiar voice calls out his name.

Duan Jiaxu turns to find the owner of the voice, blinking up at the man standing a few feet away.

“It’s me! Yuan Lang! From high school!”

“Ah, Yuan Lang,” Duan Jiaxu nods. “It’s been a long time.”

“I heard from Jiang Ying that you’re doing well with your work now,” says Yuan Lang, and immediately, Duan Jiaxu goes still. “You’re earning quite a bit, ah? Is this your girlfriend?”

Duan Jiaxu immediately swivels around to find Sang Zhi, who’s eyes go suddenly wide.

God, how he wants to say yes. He wants so badly to say yes—it hits him like a load of rocks, how much he wants to reach out and slink his arm around Sang Zhi’s shoulders, pull her against his side and say yes, yes, this is my Sang Zhi, my girlfriend, the love of my entire life.

But he can’t do that. Not yet.

“Ah-ah! Maybe not, my mistake,” Yuan Lang is blabbering. “I remember hearing that you and Jiang Ying are together.”

“Ah?” Duan Jiaxu whips around. “Me and Jiang Ying? Who told you that?”

“Oh…are you not?” Yuan Lang frowns. “I…don’t remember who told me. Um. Anyways, my flight is about to start boarding, so I should probably get going. It was nice catching up with you! Um. Come to the next class reunion, okay? Bye!”

“Bye,” says Duan Jiaxu, watching as he scampers away.

Once he’s gone, Duan Jiaxu releases a quiet breath. God. For some reason, he isn’t even surprised about the rumor of him and Jiang Ying dating. It’s exactly something that she would say to people they knew to shackle him down, chain him up and never let him go. He wonders how many others think they’re together. He finds that he really couldn"t care less.

“So…” comes Sang Zhi’s voice from next to him, “who’s Jiang Ying?”

Ah. Right. She doesn’t know.

“It’s the…” He searches for the right words. “The woman we ran into during dinner on New Year’s Eve.” Sang Zhi’s lips part. “It’s not that kind of relationship. You also saw how she treated me, didn’t you? How could I have anything to do with her?”

Sang Zhi nods slowly, her cheeks puffing out. A thought occurs to Duan Jiaxu then, a memory hidden deep within his heart.

“Besides,” he starts, “didn’t I promise you before? That if I get a girlfriend, you’d be the first to know.”

She blinks, going silent for a moment. Then she looks away and says, “But there was that other woman. When I came to Yihe during high school.”

“Ah?” says Duan Jiaxu before he can stop himself. “What?”

“You…came to the airport to pick me up, with that jiejie,” Sang Zhi says, and it’s then when his mind flashes to a scene from a few years ago: running to the airport with Siyun, finding Sang Zhi crying at the airport because her online boyfriend said she was too young for him…it’s been so long that he almost forgot, except—how could he forget? It was after that day that Sang Zhi suddenly broke off all contact with him, after all. He mulled over that day countless times in his head, searching for anything he could have done, could have said, that made her want to stop talking to him.

She meets his eyes for a fraction of a second. Duan Jiaxu feels something in his chest squeeze.

“Did you…did you think that was my girlfriend?”

The way she looks at him, then, is enough. It’s enough. Was she not? He can read it so clearly in her eyes.

The corners of his lips quirk upward, out of his control, and a few seconds later, he’s grinning from ear to ear, because, fuck, this girl will be the death of him. She will be the death of him, and she’s saying something now, probably denying it, telling him she was just asking out of minor curiosity, but he knows. He knows. And Qian Fei was right—it’s him she likes. It has to be him. There is no one else. Not with the way she’s acting right now. Not with the way she’s been acting around him. Not after everything they have been through together since she moved to Yihe for university. No—there is only them, the two of them. Nobody else.

He leans back, and like this, he can still see the outline of her face, see the way she’s so obviously fighting the urge to smile right now, and, yeah, this is it. This has to be it. This is it.

Okay. He can be normal about this.

“Hello?” comes Sang Zhi’s voice as the phone call connects.

Duan Jiaxu jerks up. “Um,” he says, then promptly contemplates killing himself. “Are you busy?”

“Ah—no.”

Okay. He can do this. It’s just a stupid question—“When are you free?”

Silence. Then, more silence. Then, “Why? Do you need something?”

“No,” he says. “I just want to take you out for a meal.”

“A meal?”

Even more silence. “Can I?”

“I…yes,” she says, which, okay. Lovely. Perfect.

“All right,” he says. “Then what day are you free?”

“Saturday—wait, no.” Pause. “Friday. Does Friday work? I have to…study with my friends at the library. On Saturday.”

“Friday works,” he says. There are fairies flying around in his fucking chest right now. God. “Then I’ll…send you the name of the restaurant and the reservation time.”

“Um. Yeah, okay.”

“Then I’ll hang up.”

“Mm. Okay. Bye-bye.”

Great. Awesome. Perfect. Amazing.

It’s a date. It has to be a date. He knows it’s a date.

And judging by how nervous she sounded…she knows it’s a date too.

First, he takes her to see Siyun, and once that’s over, he tells her, I just don’t want you to misunderstand, otherwise it’ll be troublesome later, and hopes it sounds cooler to her ears than it feels to his.

Their meal is infested with his coworkers. They make plans to see a movie instead. The tea shop accidentally gives Sang Zhi milk tea. She has an allergic reaction to it. Objectively speaking, it’s a horrible date. Subjectively…well, it’s perfect. Because it’s with her. And Duan Jiaxu wouldn’t have it any other way.

Annoying Voice makes his third appearance on Sang Zhi’s birthday. He forces a gift onto her and from a little ways away, Duan Jiaxu watches their exchange. It’s short. It’s fine. It doesn’t matter. Once again, Duan Jiaxu is extremely normal about his feelings for Sang Zhi. 

They go watch a movie together, finally, and it’s wonderful, or maybe it isn’t. He doesn’t really know. How could he, after all? With Sang Zhi sitting so close right next to him? Only a fool would be sane enough to pay attention to whatever was going on in the film.

Later, they cut the cake Duan Jiaxu spent hours upon hours preparing for her, and even later is when…

“Tell me,” he says softly, leaning against the railing on the rooftop of his apartment building. Looking around, he really has to give himself a pat on the back. He did a splendid job putting all of this together for her. “What does it take for a guy to pursue you?”

“What?” she meets his eyes. “That’s nonsense, what are you saying?” 

He hums, his lips twisting. “Then…what do you look for in a guy?”

She seems to think it over for a moment. “He must be handsome.”

Well, he’s definitely already got that one down. “What else?”

“He must have a good temperament.”

“Okay,” he nods.

“And…” She trails off for a second, steals a glance up at him. Then she reaches up, hovers her palm just by Duan Jiaxu’s head. “Maybe about…this tall?”

Duan Jiaxu straightens up, smiles to himself when he goes over where her hand is. “Anything else?”

She’s grinning. Oh, she’s having so much fun with this. “Ah…he must have good morals. That’s it.”

“That’s all?” he asks.

She nods, “Mm.”

He inhales, looks out at the blanketing darkness above their heads. “I think…I meet all of your requirements.”

She stops mid-bite.

“So,” he continues, “I want to ask you a question.”

She isn’t moving. She isn’t so much as flinching. It’s such a stark contrast to how she was mere minutes before—like she was prepared for anything, anything, but not this. Not this. Not—

“Can I pursue you?”

It tumbles out of him helplessly, desperately, and he can’t look away from her if he tried. Her bangs curtain her face, her lips part in obvious surprise, because no matter how much he’s been building up to it, Duan Jiaxu knows hearing it is a completely different thing. Any doubt she may have had should be gone now. Any dwindling what-ifs buried deep, never to be seen again.

Because now, there is only hope.

And—

“I…” She trails off, staring off somewhere in front of her. “I…Jiaxu-ge,” she starts again, “do you mean…what I think you mean?”

He releases a breathy laugh, his gaze never faltering away from her face. “Does it have another meaning?”

“I—no, but,” she shakes her head, “didn’t you say I’m a kid? You called me xiao pengyou even when I started university. You…you think I’m too young.”

“Xiao pengyou is just a nickname,” says Duan Jiaxu. “If you’d like me to, I can call you that even when you’re eighty years old.”

“No thank you.”

“Besides,” he continues, “don’t you call me gege? You don’t consider me as your real brother do you?”

She mutters, “I do consider you as my real brother.”

“Well,” he says, “that’s sad for you, because I don’t want to be your brother. I want to be your boyfriend.”

She blinks, and he watches as her eyes flicker around his face, searching for any sign of him teasing her. But Duan Jiaxu has never been more sincere in his life than this very moment. He would never, ever joke about something like this. Not with her. And he knows she knows that, too.

“Say something,” he whispers, taking a shaky breath, “I feel like I can’t breathe.”

“Jiaxu-ge,” says Sang Zhi, “who asks for permission to pursue someone? You’re supposed to just start doing it.”

“I have to make my intentions clear to you,” he says, “otherwise what will I do if you think I’m good to you just because I’m older than you?”

“That’s your own problem,” she says. “That has nothing to do with me.”

“Then why don’t you tell me,” he says, back straightening as he looks down at her. “Tell me if you feel the same way about me.”

“I won’t know until you pursue me.”

Oh, she’s so… “Okay, then tell me how I should pursue you. How long should I do it for?”

“I’m not giving you any hints!” she exclaims. “And stop making it sound like I’m guaranteed to say yes!”

“As if you’ll say no.”

“You won’t win me over,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m quite difficult to please, don’t you know?”

He knows. He doesn’t care. He would do anything for her.

“I’ll drag it out, then,” he says, and it’s then when he realizes his smile is stretching across his face. “I’ll pursue you for a decade if I have to.”

“You have fun with that,” she says, but she’s smiling too, and then they’re laughing, and Duan Jiaxu leans against the railing and moves into her space just slightly so, enough for her breath to hitch in surprise and her eyes to go just a little bit wider.

“I forgot to tell you earlier,” he says then. “But you look beautiful today.”

She coughs, turning on her heel. “I know I do.”

“You specifically dressed up to come and see me, and yet you’re telling me that you don’t have any feelings for me.”

“Can’t I make myself look pretty for my birthday?” She raises one of her eyebrows. “Did you think I dressed up for you?”

“Fine.” He tilts his head back. “I heard you already. Can’t I imagine things to make myself happy?”

“You should keep your imagination to yourself,” she says. 

“But I want you to know,” he counters. “I want you to know what I’m thinking about when I’m thinking about you.”

She swallows down a bite of her cake, then holds up her plate by her nose. “Can I take this back to my dorm with me?”

He raises an eyebrow. “You’re asking me about the cake after I’ve just finished confessing to you?”

“So that’s a yes?”

He rolls his eyes. “Of course you can take the cake with you. I made it for you, didn’t I? If you’d like, I can make it for you everyday from now on.”

She presses her lips together in a fruitless attempt to hide her smile. “You’re thinking too far ahead.”

“Am I?” he asks, and then he grins down at her. “Maybe it’s too far ahead, you’re right, for now.”

For now, he says, because later, it won’t be too far ahead. Later, it’ll be perfect. He already knows.

She gives him her answer on his birthday.

It’s sentimental, this—him confessing on her birthday, her saying yes on his. He takes her hand while she’s passing her a slice of cake and stands up, pulling her up with him and reaching out to curl his fingers behind her ear, into her hair.

Her breath hitches in surprise when he leans in and closes the distance between them, and oh, oh, this is it—this is how it feels to kiss her, to hold her, to have her breath fanning his face and her eyes fluttering shut against him. He breaks away after a few seconds and feels his lips tingle in the aftermath.

“I—” he starts, then stops, because this has to be perfect, and Sang Zhi is looking back at him with wide eyes and her cheeks are rosy pink and—“I don’t really know how to do this.”

It’s a confession in its own right. Sang Zhi straightens up, puts her hands behind her back.

“You always call me old,” he continues, quietly, “it’s quite embarrassing to admit this to myself, but…this is my first relationship, too. It’s also my first time liking someone this much.” Her lips part, like she’s surprised, but of course she already knew this. He promised her a long time ago that she would be the first person he’d tell if he ever started seeing someone. “Don’t even think about breaking up with me, okay? You’re stuck with me.”

She smiles, then tries to hide it with her palms, and Duan Jiaxu laughs as he pulls her hands away from her face. Her pretty, pretty face.

“Can I kiss you again?” he asks, hope blooming in his chest.

“I don’t know,” she teases, “can you?”

He grins, and then they’re both leaning in again and smiling into each other’s mouths like fools. 

He should tell her.

“There are some things I haven’t told you about,” he says, and before he can stop himself, he continues: “My…family situation. My mother passed away, and my dad is in a coma. He killed someone while drunk driving.”

She blinks up at him.

He swallows. “But I’ve paid off the compensation,” he says. “Right now, I…don’t own a house, but I have a car. I also have some money saved up.” He stops himself, takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Zhizhi, for bringing this up all of a sudden.”

“Why are you sorry?” she says, shaking her head. She reaches out and takes his hands into her own. “No more of that. No more being sorry to me.”

“I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” she says, gently squeezing his palms. “I’m just worried that talking about this stuff will make you sad.”

He huffs through a quiet laugh, “Why would I feel sad?” he smiles down at her, shifts their hands so that he can run his thumb over her index finger. “I’m just…nervous, a little.”

“Ah?” she says. “Why?”

“I’m worried that you’ll mind,” he says, swallowing.

She inhales. “I don’t mind.”

He looks up, finds her eyes. They’re beautiful. She’s beautiful, and she’s too good. Much too good for someone broken like him. She deserves better than what he can give her, he knows this.

But Duan Jiaxu is a selfish man, and he wants everything. He wants her.

So he’ll take it. He’ll take it.

“What do you mean you’re dating Sang Zhi?”

Duan Jiaxu sighs into his phone. “That’s exactly what I mean.”

“And—hold on—you’re saying I helped you?” Qian Fei laughs. It is the most fake thing Duan Jiaxu has ever heard. “Let’s get one thing straight. I did not do shit about this. Okay! So make sure you tell Sang Yan I had absolutely nothing to do with any of this.” A short pause. “Wait. Have you told Sang Yan yet?”

“No,” Duan Jiaxu mutters. “I’m going to do it in person, when I go to Nanwu.”

“Right,” Qian Fei deadpans. “Well, good luck. Remember I had nothing to do with any of this. Oh, god, I should delete the message I just sent to the group chat about you getting a girlfriend—”

Duan Jiaxu’s phone promptly starts ringing. Sang Yan, says the caller i.d. 

Fuck, says his brain.

“Sang Yan’s calling me.”

“Well what are you waiting for? Answer it! It’s more suspicious if you don’t answer it!”

“But—”

“Answer it!”

“God, fine, fine.”

“And remember, I had nothing to do with this!”

“Whatever,” Duan Jiaxu mutters, “but you’re joining the call with me,” and before Qian Fei can argue back, he taps accept on his screen.

Then he drops his phone onto his desk and sends a prayer to the dead fish he had when he was six.

“Duan Jiaxu!” comes Sang Yan’s staticky voice through the line. “Have you officially gone mad? You asked Qian Fei to help you get a girl?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Qian Fei gasps. “Last time I checked, I’m the one with a wife!”

“Shut up!” says Sang Yan. “No, he’s supposed to ask me, how could you go to—ah, but then again, I don’t go after girls. They just come running to me. So maybe Qian Fei was the right choice.”

“Get lost, Sang Yan!”

“Duan Jiaxu,” says Sang Yan, “tell me who the unlucky girl is.”

Duan Jiaxu falters, because truly, what a question. From Sang Yan too? Lovely. Just lovely.

Hah.

“Um,” says Duan Jiaxu, the perfect picture of eloquence. “Well, I still need to thank Qian Fei for his help—”

“Ah?” comes Qian Fei’s shrill shriek. “Duan Jiaxu, I already said I did nothing to help you! Besides, my wife pursued me—ouch! Honey!”

Duan Jiaxu laughs into his hand as Sang Yan pipes up, “Did you seriously not help him then? Qian Fei, why are you so worked up about this?”

“Am I? I don’t think I am! I don’t know anything about Duan Jiaxu’s girlfriend! You’re going mad too, Sang Yan!”

“Too?” Sang Yan repeats, and Duan Jiaxu lets his head drop into his hands. “Qian Fei you’re acting too weird—this is the kind of thing you would brag about for years—”

“I’ve never bragged about anything in my life!”

“I can’t believe the two of you! Are you just shutting me out? I can’t believe this—”

“Sang Yan,” says Duan Jiaxu, his shoulders dropping, “I’m…I’ll come to Nanwu in a bit. I’ll tell you in person then, okay?”

“Fine,” says Sang Yan. “Xiaogui will be on summer break then too. You two have to help me bring her home, all right?”

Once again, a lovely request from Sang Yan, Sang Zhi’s older brother.

Wow. Duan Jiaxu has not even finished processing the fact that he’s dating Sang Zhi. And now he has to process the fact that she’s his best friend’s little sister? His best friend who is also extremely protective of said little sister? His girlfriend?

“All right,” Duan Jiaxu says, and then he claps his hands together, and Qian Fei makes a very big, very obviously fake show of having to leave, and then the call ends.

…Lovely. Truly.

The first punch is expected.

Blinding. Hot. Duan Jiaxu stumbles back, his jaw clicking where Sang Yan’s fist had been. God. Okay. He went softer than Duan Jiaxu thought he would go, so he supposes there is still an inkling of hope. He knows how Sang Yan can be. He knows it may take him months, if not years, to get his approval.

But this is for Sang Zhi.

Duan Jiaxu would wait decades.

“Of all fucking girls,” Sang Yan hisses, snapping Duan Jiaxu back to reality, “my sister?”

“I’m not fooling around,” says Duan Jiaxu, straightening up. “I’m serious about her.”

Then comes the kick, which—okay, he deserves it, but also, on his stomach? Where Sang Yan knew he just recently got surgery? A targeted attack. Plain and true.

Duan Jiaxu swallows, clutching his abdomen as he stands up again, breathes shakily as he takes a step closer, “Keep going.”

Sang Yan does. He lands his fist on Duan Jiaxu’s cheek, sending him hurling back. He feels his lips split open, and then there’s blood pooling around the bottom of his mouth, pain prickling him all over and a torrid, metallic taste seeping into the tip of his tongue.

Sang Yan pushes past him, sits down against the tree behind them. “How long has it been going on for?”

“Two and a half months,” says Duan Jiaxu. He takes a breath, closes his eyes. “I was going to tell you in person, when I came to Nanwu.”

“Shut the fuck up,” says Sang Yan, and Duan Jiaxu snaps his mouth shut. “Do you even have a fucking conscious? What the hell is wrong with you?”

Duan Jiaxu looks up, finds the side of his face.

Sang Yan’s jaw tightens, “I wouldn’t care if you dated anyone else her age. Hell—even if they were younger, I wouldn’t give a fuck.” He turns his head, then, and their eyes meet. “But she’s my meimei. She met you in middle school and she took you as her gege how could you even think of targeting her what the fuck is going through that stupid brain of yours—”

“Sang Yan,” says Duan Jiaxu, “I know I didn’t handle this properly, and I know I should have told you sooner.” He pauses, presses his burning lips together. “I’m sorry, xiongdi.”

“Don’t call me that,” Sang Yan mutters.

Hurt flashes through Duan Jiaxu’s chest, and yes, he knows he deserves it. He knows Sang Yan has every right to be angry with him. He knows his bond with his sister is something that cannot be touched, cannot be tampered with. He spent so many years around him and Sang Zhi when they were younger—he’s seen their relationship first hand. He knows better than anyone else how much Sang Yan loves her, how much she loves him, too.

But Duan Jiaxu is Sang Yan’s best friend. Sang Yan is Duan Jiaxu’s best friend and he knows. He knows. He knows that for Sang Yan, Sang Zhi will always come first. Hell, even for Duan Jiaxu, Sang Zhi will come first. But they are best friends. And that should count for something. And Sang Yan knows deep down that Duan Jiaxu would never do anything to hurt Sang Zhi, would never do anything to hurt either of them. He should know. He should know. He should—

“I know you’re upset,” Duan Jiaxu says. “How about you beat me up some more? I’ll just stand still and take it all. I promise.”

Sang Yan scoffs. “You’re such an idiot.”

“Please, ge.”

“Don’t you dare call me that.”

Duan Jiaxu recoils.

Then Sang Yan’s face scrunches up, like he’s thinking deeply about something, and Duan Jiaxu stays quiet. He won’t dare think of the possibility of Sang Yan being against his relationship with Sang Zhi, even though it might become true. Even though that might be his reality. And he was prepared for this outcome. He was.

He wasn’t. He wasn’t. He wasn’t—

“Forget it,” comes Sang Yan’s voice, and Duan Jiaxu looks up to find him standing up in front of him. “Forget it, you—just go home and get yourself cleaned up first.”

Duan Jiaxu’s eyes immediately go wide.

Sang Yan levels him with an unimpressed look. “Are you getting up?”

Then he leans down and grabs onto Duan Jiaxu’s shoulders, yanking him up. Duan Jiaxu stares at him, sees the way Sang Yan avoids his eyes and quickly starts walking away, and then he feels the corners of his lips quivering upward because yes. Yes. 

Yes.

“Thank you, ge!” he calls.

“Shut up!”

“Are you really serious about her?”

The question is quietly asked on the ride home to Duan Jiaxu’s apartment. Duan Jiaxu meets Sang Yan’s eyes and nods with no hesitation.

“Of course I am. If I wasn’t, I’d be a total jerk.”

“You are a jerk.”

“Okay, yeah,” says Duan Jiaxu. He smiles. “I’m a jerk.”

They get lunch with Sang Yan the next day. Sang Zhi defends Duan Jiaxu to her wits end and even goes as far as to say she’s cutting ties with her brother. Then they make up, as all siblings do. Truly, Duan Jiaxu has never felt happier in his life.

“Gege, be honest,” Sang Zhi says as they’re walking out of the restaurant, “you’re secretly thrilled that it’s Jiaxu-ge I’m dating, aren’t you?”

Sang Yan clicks his tongue and flicks her temple. “Be quiet, you.”

“Nuh uh,” Sang Zhi drawls. “I know I’m right!”

“Gege,” says Duan Jiaxu, wide-eyed, “if you were happy about it, you should have just told me! What was all that fuss for then?”

“I’ll kill you, Duan Jiaxu, don’t think I won’t.”

“Hey!” Sang Zhi yelps, jumping in front of Duan Jiaxu and sticking her arms out. “You’ll have to kill me first!”

“Okay, I hate this,” says Sang Yan. “I also need, like, thirty years to process everything that has happened in the past two days.”

“All right,” says Duan Jiaxu, walking up beside Sang Zhi and slipping his hand around her waist. “Don’t worry, you can take all the time you want. In thirty years, Sang Zhi and I will probably be old and gray and sending our kids off to college. So.”

Sang Zhi turns to him, a beaming smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“Ack,” says Sang Yan. “Stop that. Stop that.”

Sang Zhi sticks her tongue out at him. “No.”

“Yes,” says Sang Yan, and then he reaches out and yanks her ear. “Okay, I think we need to set some ground rules.”

Sang Zhi scoffs. “What ground rules?”

“Well, for one,” Sang Yan starts, “you’re not allowed to take your…ugh…”

Sang Zhi lifts a delicate eyebrow. “My…?”

“Please don’t make me say it out loud.”

“Well, I don’t know what you’re trying to say, so,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest and looking at him expectantly.

“Fine!” exclaims Sang Yan. “You"re not allowed to take your boyfriend’s side ever again. Your gege should always be your number one priority.”

At this, Duan Jiaxu cuts in, “She calls me gege too.”

Sang Yan whips around to look at him. “Don’t make it weird. You have just barely gotten my approval.”

“Sorry, gege.”

“Okay,” says Sang Yan, throwing his arms up into the air. “I’m out. Goodbye. Duan Jiaxu, give me your car keys.”

“You can take the train.”

“Duan Jiaxu, do you have a death wish?”

“Gege, don’t be annoying,” says Sang Zhi, stepping between the two of them. “Jiaxu-ge promised he’d take me shopping today!”

Sang Yan raises an eyebrow down at her. “And?”

“And, you can come,” she says. “If you want to. I’m being very generous right now, extending this invitation.”

“Generous?” he scoffs. “It’s what you should do! Now, let’s go. Xiaogui, you sit in the backseat of the car. I don’t want any funny business up in the front with you two—”

And so, life goes on.

Duan Jiaxu rents a new place. His old one was too small, anyways, and this one is comfortable and much closer to Sang Zhi’s university. This way, she can come over to rest whenever she’d like. She smiles when he puts the spare key in her hand and Duan Jiaxu feels lighter in his chest than he’s ever felt before.

Then comes the school break, and Duan Jiaxu travels to Nanwu. He remembers his initial plan to tell Sang Yan about his relationship with Sang Zhi while he’s back—but Sang Yan knows now. So there’s only Sang Zhi’s parents left.

Which is…daunting, to say the very least. Sang Yan was a whole ordeal of his own, but Sang Zhi’s parents are an entirely different story. At least with Sang Yan, Duan Jiaxu had years of close friendship to back him up. With her parents…well, they have seen the ugliest parts of him, have seen him split open and raw. They know everything about his ugly past. They’ve seen him grow up, practically raised him in a way of their own. Normally, it would foster trust. With Duan Jiaxu, however?

If Sang Zhi were bringing someone else home his age, perhaps it would be fine, because at least they’d have a stable family background. A home to call home.

But for Duan Jiaxu, he doesn’t have anything or anyone else.

He gets a call from Sang Zhi’s father fairly early after he arrives in Nanwu. Duan Jiaxu almost falls flat on his face when he sees the caller i.d.

“Hello?” he says into the phone, willing his voice not to shake.

“Xiao Duan,” comes Sang Rong’s familiar voice. “Are you free? Shushu wanted to talk to you for a second.”

“I’m free,” says Duan Jiaxu. He swallows. “Shushu…did you need something? I was planning on visiting you and ayi sometime during my stay in Nanwu.”

“Oh, were you? That’s convenient, then. I was calling to ask you to stop by. I want to talk to you about something important.”

“Ah?” Duan Jiaxu blinks. “Oh—of course I can stop by. When would you be free? I can come over whenever.”

“Hmm…tomorrow? Maybe around three in the afternoon? Does that work for you?”

So soon? Duan Jiaxu’s fingers curl around his phone case. “I’m free. Then I’ll come over tomorrow at three.”

“All right. We’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay. Bye-bye.”

“Bye-bye.”

The line clicks to an end, and Duan Jiaxu spends the next several moments staring down at the dim screen of his cell phone.

Okay. Great. Tomorrow at three it is, then.

This is fine. This was going to happen soon, anyways. Duan Jiaxu just didn’t expect it to happen this soon.

Still, there’s nothing he can do about it now. And he obviously isn’t about to flake out on Sang Zhi’s father. This also gives him an opportunity to tell him face-to-face about his relationship with her.

“Sit, sit,” her father ushers as he takes a seat down on the couch across from Duan Jiaxu. His eyes trail over to the boxes beside him. “Ah, don’t act like a stranger. You brought me tea leaves?”

Duan Jiaxu smiles, “I know you like them. I don’t know much about tea, so I was hoping you could appraise them for me.”

“Ah, okay, very well,” Sang Rong nods. Then, “I know I called you here suddenly. I wanted to talk to you while Zhizhi was out, so I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” says Duan Jiaxu. “I was planning on paying you a visit soon anyways.”

“To be honest with you, Xiao Duan,” Sang Rong starts, “I was a little surprised when I heard that you and Zhizhi are together now.”

Duan Jiaxu’s lips part.

A rush envelopes him. So he already knows. But Sang Zhi didn’t tell him anything? He’s sure she would have mentioned something…

Either way, it doesn’t really matter. This is good. This is better, even.

“Ah,” he starts, “I didn’t know you already knew. I wanted to inform you personally.”

“I talked to Zhizhi about some things,” says Sang Rong, “but she didn’t seem to understand. Her mother and I thought that since you’re in Nanwu right now, we might as well call you here and talk to you about it directly.”

Duan Jiaxu swallows. “Shushu,” he says slowly, “is there something you’re concerned about?”

Sang Rong goes silent for a long moment, and Duan Jiaxu feels as if his entire body is crawling with ants. 

Her father says a lot. A…lot. And it’s all very valid, of course, and Duan Jiaxu knows this. No sane family would want to hand their only daughter to someone with a bedridden father and a giant sum of debt just recently cleared from their name. He isn’t stupid. Nor is he blind. Sang Zhi’s parents have always been reasonable.

But it…it hurts, just a little. He doesn’t even know why. It isn’t like he isn’t used to this—people naturally run when they meet someone with his kind of background.

But Sang Rong and Li Ping took him in. They supported him when his mother died. They were there for him throughout his time in university. He doesn’t know why he thought they might be different.

But he gets it. It would be unfair to say he doesn’t. After all, it’s Sang Zhi. It’s Sang Zhi.

Later that night, his cell phone rings with a call from Li Xun, telling him he needs to meet with a client tomorrow morning, so he pushes his thoughts away for the amount of time it takes to book a flight back to Yihe, and once he’s done, he gets another call. From Sang Zhi.

“Don’t be sad,” she whispers, and Duan Jiaxu feels tears spring to his eyes because oh, he loves her. He loves her so so so much.

“Why would I be sad?”

“They’re just concerned. They don’t…don’t take anything they said to heart.”

“They didn’t say anything wrong,” he murmurs. “They’re right to have concerns.”

“Jiaxu-ge, I…” She trails off. Duan Jiaxu waits patiently for her to continue. “I already told you. What happened to your family has nothing to do with you. I’ll be by your side from now on. You know that, right?”

He swallows down the lump in his throat. “Of course I know that. You…you don’t say anything extreme to your parents, okay? They mean well.”

“Okay.”

“And one more thing, I have to go back to Yihe tomorrow morning.”

“…You have to go back to Yihe?”

“I just got a call saying I have to meet with someone tomorrow,” says Duan Jiaxu, “so I just booked a flight.”

She inhales sharply. “I’ll go with you.”

“No,” he says. “It’s too early in the morning. Stay back and enjoy your time with your parents, okay?”

“…I’ll drop you off at the airport.”

He laughs, “Zhizhi, you don’t need to do that. Just go to sleep and don’t think too much about all of this. Mm?”

“…Okay.”

“I’ll hang up, then. Good night, Zhizhi.”

“…Good night, Jiaxu-ge.”

Sang Zhi 【2018年10月6日11:14】
i’m in yihe

You 【2018年10月6日11:15】
what? what do you mean you’re in yihe?

Sang Zhi 【2018年10月6日11:15】
i just landed

You 【2018年10月6日11:17】
wait at the airport. gege is coming to get you

“Zhizhi!”

She’s crying. He can instantly tell. Her eyes are ringed red and puffy, and she’s looking away from his face. He takes her hands into his and swears to himself he’ll kill whoever made her feel this way.

“What’s wrong?” he asks softly, squeezing her palms in his. 

“Do you remember in my second year of high school, when I came to Yihe to meet my online boyfriend?”

He blinks, then slowly nods.

She swallows, and the next time she speaks, her voice is shaking, “Actually, I…there was never any online boyfriend. I came to Yihe to see you.”

Oh. 

What?

But that…that doesn’t make any sense. Of course there was an online boyfriend. Sang Zhi was head over heels for him. Duan Jiaxu spent so much time watching her cry over this guy.

But…he never existed?

She came to Yihe to see him?

It must show on his face, his surprise, because suddenly, she’s averting her gaze and nodding. Her eyes are red, pearly glass beads. If he looks close enough, he can see the tip of her eyeliner smearing against her skin.

“I heard my ge say that you…” She takes a deep breath. “You have a girlfriend. That’s why I came to Yihe. I—I wanted to see you. I…I wanted to see if it was true, if you—if you broke your promise to me. That you would tell me first if you got a girlfriend.”

God.

Oh, god.

Oh—

“I…I didn’t start liking you only after I came to Yihe for college,” she says, quieter this time, and then a single tear curls out of her eye and waterfalls down her cheek, “I lied to you. I didn’t want you to…I didn’t want you to think that—that…”

He searches her face, feeling his own eyes burn. “Think what?”

Her voice breaks, “I didn’t want you to think I was…I was weird.”

She turns his hand over, then, and drops two small star-shaped pieces of paper onto his palm. He blinks down at them, his vision blurring through his tears. 

“These are…secrets. That I wrote down when I was little.”

He swallows as he picks up the first one, and god, he swears something in his chest tightens as he peels it open, slowly, rough against his skin till aged handwriting is staring back at him:

I have a secret. I don’t want to admit it, but it seems that I like him —— Duan Jiaxu.

“Before I even knew what characters you used in your name,” she’s saying from somewhere above, “I already liked you. I…I already liked you. I’ve liked you for a very long time.”

He picks up the second star.

Make a lot of money and help gege pay off his debts.

Something pitters down his face. He blinks through it, stares down at Sang Zhi’s smudged penwork on the small strips of paper.

He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what he can say. Does this mean—does this mean every time Sang Zhi has described someone she likes, this entire time, it’s been him? It’s been Duan Jiaxu? Back in high school, she didn’t have an online boyfriend. She didn’t like an older guy on the internet. It was all a lie. It was…it was him. This entire time, it was him.

He reaches out, swipes his thumb over the crystals falling from her eyes, and he wonders what he did to deserve this. What did he do to deserve someone like Sang Zhi?

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know how could possibly—how he could possibly make up for this. 

He wipes his own tears away, inhales when he feels them on his nose. “How do I fold the stars back?” he asks, fumbling with the paper. He feels his face crinkle, feels his voice crack in his throat, “I can’t—I can’t fold them back, I—”

She takes them out of his hands, and Duan Jiaxu stares at her. He stares at her, and he stares at her, and he stares at her, and god, this is what it feels like to be wanted, to be loved, to have someone who loves him so much, so unconditionally. Someone who has loved him for so long, even when he didn’t know.

“What should I do,” he whispers, leaning down to cup her face in his hands. “I’ve made you cry so many times.”

She looks so sad. Oh, she looks so sad, and it’s his fault. God. It’s his fault.

“Come here,” he says, opening his arms. “Give me a hug.”

She does. He closes his eyes and holds her close, breaths in her hair and feels the gentle beating of her heart against his chest. He buries his face into her neck and presses a kiss to her skin.

“Why did you suddenly tell me all of this?” he whispers.

“I just wanted you to know,” she says, her voice warbled.

“But this time I don’t have any rumored girlfriend your ge told you about,” he says, and then he smiles as he squeezes her waist, “I have a real girlfriend now.”

She stays quiet, but her grip on him tightens.

He smiles, “So you came all the way to Yihe, just to tell me this?”

“I was scared,” she whispers. “I thought…”

He leans back, finds her eyes. “You thought what?”

“You…you suddenly came back here. And my parents said those things to you…I thought that if I came here to talk to you in person, you wouldn’t—you wouldn"t want to bring it up—”

“Bring what up?” he asks, and then it clicks. She thought he was going to break up with her. God. God. “Zhizhi, what were you thinking?”

He tilts his head up, laughs up at the ceiling. 

“Zhizhi,” he starts again, “if your parents hadn’t disapproved of our relationship, I would have snatched you and taken you to get our marriage certificate right now.”

“I—”

He raises an eyebrow. “I’m serious.”

Her bottom lip quivers. “Why would you have to snatch me…”

He grins, then taps her teasingly on her nose. “To stop you from running away, obviously.”

“I’m not going to run away,” she says. 

“I know,” he says. “I know you aren’t.”

Then he holds out his arms again, and for once, everything is exactly how it should be.

“Sang Zhi,” he says to her later, when she’s leaning in front of him and telling him how no, he’s wrong, he treats her well, he treats her so well, how could he think otherwise? How could he ever—“I love you.”

Her breath hitches. Her eyes go wide.

“I’m sorry, Zhizhi,” he whispers, “I said these words to you so late. Over the years, I know I’ve made you sad. I…I know I’m not good enough for someone like you. Whether it’s my imperceptiveness, or my indecisiveness, I haven’t been good enough.”

Her eyes lower.

He feels himself falling, “But for my shortcomings, I’ll try my best to make it up to you every day we spend together for the rest of our lives. I won’t let you regret the choice you made. I love you, Sang Zhi. I love you so much that I breathe with it. I love you so much that I hope one day, I’ll be able to show it to you, show you what I feel, show you how much I love you. Every breath I take is your name. Every single part of me has you written over it. My Zhizhi, I love you, I love you, I—”

She kisses him, and he wavers. His eyelashes flutter against her cheeks, and his hands reach out to tightly grip her shoulders, and then she’s backing away and staring up at him and—oh, he loves her, and he wants her, he wants her so much, wants every part of her. He wants to grasp her in his hands. He wants to hold her in his arms. He’s never wanted like this in his life before. He’s never felt this way in his life before.

He leans forward and catches her mouth again, kisses her hard and long and deep until he’s pulling her up by her waist and sitting her down in his lap and she’s wrapping her arms around his shoulders and threading her fingers in his hair. 

He loves her, he loves her, he’s pressing her down till she’s laying on her back on the couch and he’s hovering over her and they’re kissing again and he loves her. He trails kisses along her face and down her neck till he’s at her collarbone, sucking her skin there, nipping at it till she’s whimpering and digging her nails into his scalp and he doesn’t even care because it’s her. It’s her. It’s always been her. And she’s his. She’s his. 

“Sang Zhi,” he moans against her neck, “my beautiful, perfect Sang Zhi.” He licks along her pulsepoint, sucks another kiss to where it beats.

“Yes,” she whispers, breathless, “yes, yes.”

She rolls her hips up against him, her body arching and writhing against him as she gasps and curls her fingers around his hand, bringing it down to the hem of her bunched up night dress.

He blinks through the haze, looks up to see her half-lidded eyes staring back at him.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers shakily, “are you sure?”

The heat in her eyes melts everything else from existence, and she pulls his palm to her breast and nods. He slips a finger beneath the padding of her bra to find the tightest spot, tracing a circle around the area as he strokes an index finger across the ridge of her hip with his other hand. She’s panting beneath him, and he marvels in the way her eyes flutter shut as he dips two fingers down her center, feeling her clench around them.

“Jiaxu-ge,” she murmurs, voice thickening, breath shuddering through clenched teeth, “Jiaxu-gege, gege—”

“Zhizhi, I—”

She kisses him silent. It’s hungry, and it’s wet, and it’s perfect, and he loves her. He loves her so much. He—

He wakes up the next morning with her in his arms.

“Good morning,” she whispers, darting up to plant a kiss against his nose.

“Good morning,” he mumbles back, smiling as she takes his mouth and presses hers to it. “Mm, did you sleep well?”

“Yes,” she says, curling in on herself. “Did you?”

“Yes,” he says, and then, “I love you, Sang Zhi.”

“I love you, Jiaxu-ge.”

And so it goes.

Moving back to Nanwu is just the logical next step, and of course, Siyun and Li Xun support the decision. Duan Jiaxu emerges from the meeting with a swell in his step—and then the phone call arrives.

It’s no secret that his father has caused him immense pain. Caused his mother immense pain. Caused Jiang Ying and her mother immense pain, too. Sometimes, he wonders what his life would look like right now if some things hadn’t gone the way they did, and each time he does, he shakes his head and rids those thoughts away. There is no point. What’s done is done.

But sitting here, with his father’s dead hand limp in his palms, he can’t help it. One last time, he will live in the delusion of a happier life, of a happier childhood.

Because now, he truly is all alone.

And there, at the end of it all, is Sang Zhi. There has always been Sang Zhi.

Sang Zhi’s Guide on Maintaining a Long-Distance Relationship

• Video call each other every day. This will keep the strength of the relationship and allow us to communicate outside of just texting and voice chatting.

• Make an extra effort. For example, on anniversaries or holidays, visit each other if possible.

• If we have an argument, make up within that same day. No silent treatment, no disappearing on each other. 

• Trust each other. If something comes up, talk about it with each other instead of hiding it.

• We can have arguments, but not in front of other people.

• You don’t have to reply to messages immediately, but you must reply as soon as you see them.

• Love each other a lot!!!

“Well aren’t you punctual,” says Sang Yan as he peddles out through the front door of his house. 

Duan Jiaxu bats his eyelashes at him. “Hi, gege, I missed you.”

“Never mind,” says Sang Yan, turning back around.

“Hey—wait!” Duan Jiaxu laughs as Sang Yan lightly punches his shoulder. 

“Hurry up and come inside. Ba and Ma have been waiting for you all morning.”

“Really?” Duan Jiaxu blinks. “I don’t believe you.”

“Yeah I just made that up.”

Duan Jiaxu deadpans him a look. “Why are you here, again?”

“My meimei told me that my parents don’t like you,” Sang Yan grins. “You think I was going to miss out on this?”

“Fine,” says Duan Jiaxu. “You can be there as long as you stay at the side and keep your mouth shut.”

“We’ll see,” Sang Yan clicks his tongue, leading him inside.

Dinner is about exactly what Duan Jiaxu was expecting. Which is to say, it is quite literally the most awkward half hour of his life. He hasn’t seen Sang Zhi’s parents since the day her father called him over and basically told him he didn’t approve of their relationship, and now…now Duan Jiaxu has resigned from his job and moved back to Sang Zhi’s hometown, all for her. He still doesn’t know if it counts for anything. He still doesn’t know if it will make any difference.

But he’s willing to try. 

For Sang Zhi, he will do anything.

“Shushu,” he says later, as the four of them sit together in the living room. Sang Yan gently taps their knees together, a small I’ll help if I need to, don’t worry, and Duan Jiaxu is silently grateful for his best friend. “Shushu, I’ve thought a lot about the concerns you told me about last time I visited. I know you have your reservations, but…I want you to know. I’m really serious about my relationship with Zhizhi.”

Li Ping looks up from where she’s sipping her tea. Sang Rong visibly releases a breath.

“I’ve taken care of everything,” Duan Jiaxu continues. “The victim of my dad’s car accident will not bother me anymore, so you don’t have to worry about that. I’ve already gotten a good start on my work here in Nanwu, too, and I…I did it for mine and Sang Zhi’s future together. She’ll graduate in two years, so while she’s in school, I’ll be here, getting everything ready for her.”

“Are you sure you want to start over in Nanwu?” Sang Rong asks.

“Of course,” says Duan Jiaxu. “Shushu, Ayi, I would be a different person if I had never met Sang Zhi. She…she’s younger than me, yet she’s always putting me first. She’s always saying she wants to protect me. And I don’t have a lot to my name, but I will spend the rest of my life protecting her and taking care of her. She helped me overcome my past, and now I will safeguard her future.”

Sang Rong reaches out, places a hand on Duan Jiaxu’s shoulder.

“Then that’s all we want, my child,” he says softly. “That’s all we want.”

Next to him, Li Ping presses her lips together, a smile quirking at the corners. “It’s always been about Zhizhi’s happiness. The rest…it isn’t an issue. Don’t worry, Xiao Duan.”

Don’t worry, Xiao Duan. Don’t worry, Xiao Duan. Oh, if only it were that easy, because Duan Jiaxu has done nothing but worry for his entire life.

But here, there is Sang Zhi’s mother, and Sang Zhi’s father, and even Sang Zhi’s brother. And they’re all smiling at him, like they accept him for who he is, like they’d rather have nobody else join their tight knit family.

“Okay,” he whispers, his voice cracking with it. “Okay. Okay.”

✧

✧

✧

“You’ll come to my graduation, right?”

“Who do you think I am?”

“So you will!”

“Of course I will. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” she says, like he’s crazy for even asking. Like the answer could ever be anything else. “Yes, Jiaxu-ge. Yes.”

For Duan Jiaxu, home is a person. Home is Sang Zhi.

And he is here.

He is home.