September.
Less than a week into military training, Xia Yiyang had already turned into a little chocolate bar.
His sister had bought him sunscreen in advance, but he used it once and couldn’t be bothered after that—resulting in a little face that was now tanned a shiny, dark brown.
Oh wait, chocolate has abs—but Xia Yiyang didn’t. At best, he was… well, a chocolate-flavored cream puff. Soft and squishy, with a satisfying duang when poked.
Rongda’s military training lasted only half a month, with no breaks on weekends. But Xia Yiyang still found a chance to sneak out one evening.
When he arrived at the shop, it wasn’t closed yet. Auntie Zhao and Auntie Li were busy behind the counter. They looked up and saw a dark, sun-baked teenager standing outside the counter, grinning at them with a mouthful of bright white teeth—scaring the aunties half to death.
“Boss! Boss!” Auntie Zhao called toward the kitchen. “Xiao Xia is back!”
Xiao Xia wasn’t just back—he was also carrying a heavy suitcase.
Sheng Lin opened it to find it stuffed to the brim with military training uniforms. The uniforms had been soaked through with sweat and then dried, each one covered in white salt stains.
One set, two sets, three sets, four sets… A whole big suitcase, filled with the training uniforms of every single boy in his class.
It was practically a biological weapon!
Xia Yiyang blinked: “We have to wear them again tomorrow. They’ll definitely be dry by tonight, right?”
Afraid Sheng Lin might scold him for acting on his own, he quickly added: “Oh, and Ling Ge, I’ve got good news—you now have eighteen god-sons!”
Sheng Lin: “?”
The young master: “I told my classmates that my big brother has a washing machine and a dryer at home. They all said they want to call you their godfather!”
Sheng Lin held his forehead: “…That’s really not necessary.”
That night, the washing machine in the little two-story building ran all night long. As for the electricity bill—the young master would just have to repay it through other means.
If Sheng Lin hadn’t been mindful that Xia Yiyang had to stand in the sun again the next day, he’d have loved to pump a lot more cream into that chocolate cream puff.
Early the next morning, before the assembly bell for training rang, Xia Yiyang hauled his suitcase back to the dorm with a huff and a puff.
His roommates, shouting “The king is back!” and “The king has returned from hunting!” swarmed him with the jubilant energy of monkeys on Mount Emei.
One sharp-eyed monkey noticed that Xia Yiyang had already put on his training uniform—and had pulled the collar up high, buttoning the top button tightly. It was so hot out—wasn’t he burning up wearing so much?
“N-not at all.” Xia Yiyang tugged at his collar awkwardly. “My neck got sunburned.”
“Sunburned?” The monkeys just had to poke at that sore spot. “But it looks like red patches all over your neck, though.”
“That’s UV allergy,” Xia Yiyang made it up on the spot. “I’m not like you guys—thick-skinned and rough.”
Sigh. To do laundry for these monkeys, he, the Monkey King, had really sacrificed so much!
After military training ended, Xia Yiyang gathered the guys from the neighboring dorms to support Sheng Lin’s business.
A dozen or so young men filed into the shop, stood in a row, and bowed in unison to Sheng Lin: “Greetings, Godfather!”
The customers who’d been eating inside fled in terror.
Xia Yiyang announced to his classmates: “You didn’t call him godfather for nothing—I’ll make the call. From now on, whenever you come here for ice powder, just say my name and it’s free!”
Sheng Lin: “…”
He gave Xia Yiyang a long, meaningful look—was this kid really bringing his classmates to support the business?
This kid really held a grudge.
…
October.
During the National Day holiday, a famous singer was holding a concert in Rongcheng. Xia Yiyang wanted to join in the fun and recruited everyone around him to help grab tickets—but came up empty-handed.
Sheng Lin decided to surprise him, so he went online to buy from a scalper—and got scammed out of 10,000 yuan.
Sheng Lin, being swindled for the first time in his life: “…”
He absolutely could not tell Qin Zaozao about this—or that frenemy would mock him for the rest of his life!
This time, it was Xia Yiyang who accompanied Sheng Lin to the police station to file a report. The officer who received them was, once again, Officer Xiang. Officer Xiang had since been confirmed in his position—the pennant banner they’d given him was hanging on the wall behind his desk. He polished it every day; the golden pole gleamed brightly, without a single speck of dust.
Officer Xiang saw Xia Yiyang and let out a heavy sigh. He set down his teacup and asked: “Xiao Xia, what did you get scammed for this time?”
“It wasn’t him—it was me.” Sheng Lin raised his hand. “I bought concert tickets and got scammed by a scalper for 10,000.”
Officer Xiang: “…Huh?”
The young master huffed unhappily: “I’m not that dumb. The scammer said 8,000 would get VIP seats, and for an extra 2,000 we could even interact with the singer and request a song. Only Ling Ge would fall for cheap tricks like that.”
Officer Xiang took the official statement first, then switched to a private chat: “Xiao Xia, if you really want to go to that concert that badly, I might have a way.”
Sheng Lin immediately asked: “What’s the way? How much does it cost?”
“Helping the people solve their problems—how could I possibly mention money?” Officer Xiang said. “I know about that concert you mentioned—it’s at the Sports Center, right? Since there’ll be a big crowd, the bureau has pulled in police forces from the surrounding stations for support. But we can’t do it with just police officers—we’re also short on college student volunteers. Meals are provided, and you get 180 yuan. Xiao Xia, if you have any classmates who want to come, they’re welcome to join.”
“!!!” Xia Yiyang was first thrilled, then quickly realized: “Only college student volunteers? What about graduates?”
Officer Xiang looked at Sheng Lin: “Not allowed.”
Sheng Lin: “That’s fine. I don’t actually like that singer anyway. Xia Yiyi, you go and enjoy it with your classmates.”
Officer Xiang thought Sheng Lin must be out of his mind—you spent 10,000 yuan on tickets and you say you don’t like the singer? Then who exactly do you like?
On the day of the concert, Xia Yiyang arrived at the stadium early in the morning. He put on the volunteer vest they gave him and got busy without a moment’s rest. Being a volunteer was way more tiring than he’d imagined—his main tasks were handing out materials and catching scalpers trying to sneak into the restrooms…
The young master got lucky and was assigned to the floor section. Tired as he was, he did get to enjoy a concert.
As the encore music swelled to its climax, countless golden ribbons and confetti burst into the air, and the waving glow sticks in the audience formed a sea of light—together, they created this perfect and dreamlike spectacle.
Xia Yiyang instinctively reached for his phone to capture the moment and send it to Sheng Lin—but after patting his pockets, he remembered he’d already turned it in.
In that instant, the beautiful sight before him and the music in his ears suddenly felt disconnected from him.
Never before had Xia Yiyang felt so keenly aware that he was merely a bystander to this celebration of joy—so even this perfect celebration wasn’t quite so perfect after all.
After the concert ended, the volunteers still had to collect the glow sticks and clean the venue… That 180-yuan volunteer fee really wasn’t easy money.
The young master took off his vest, retrieved his phone, and walked slowly toward the exit with the other volunteers. He was so exhausted he felt lightheaded and swore he’d never “mooch” off a deal like this again.
The audience had long since dispersed. Xia Yiyang walked toward the shuttle bus at the tail end of the streetlights, as the stadium lights went out one by one behind him. The grand celebration had come to an end, and his solitary shadow on the ground grew increasingly blurred as it stretched out.
Just as he was about to be swallowed by the darkness, the roar of an engine suddenly sounded. Headlights cut through the dark, casting their beam onto him and making his shadow sharp and solid once more.
Xia Yiyang froze, then immediately turned toward the source of the engine sound—”Ling Ge!! What are you doing here?”
“It’s late, of course I came to pick you up.” Sheng Lin leaned against his motorcycle, one long leg planted on the ground, his expression finally softening. “Why weren’t you answering your phone? I waited here until everyone was gone. I thought I’d come to the wrong exit.”
“Ah?!” Xia Yiyang checked his phone belatedly. “I put it on silent when I turned it in today.”
Sheng Lin handed him the helmet: “Tired? Hungry?”
“Tired! Hungry!” The young master answered loudly, put on the helmet, and immediately hopped onto the back of Sheng Lin’s bike. “I want hotpot!!”
Whoever invented the idea of going for hotpot after a concert—what a genius!
Other people got picked up by the Hai*DiLao shuttle bus—he got picked up by his boyfriend. Woohoo, how was he so good at dating?
“Oh, right.” Before the motorcycle started moving, Xia Yiyang poked Sheng Lin’s waist and motioned for him to reach out. “I brought you a little souvenir from the concert.”
Sheng Lin turned around: “What souvenir?”
His hand was already extended.
The young man’s fingers opened—and tiny, confetti petals fluttered gently into the man’s palm.
They were the celebratory confetti sprayed at the concert—light, colorful, like a dreamy fantasy.
Though Sheng Lin hadn’t been able to experience that dream with him, it didn’t matter—Xia Yiyang had brought the dream home to him.
Sheng Lin smiled, pulled out his wallet from his pocket, and carefully collected the paper petals one by one.
In the most private photo slot of the wallet, nestled securely, was their Polaroid from their first date at the zoo. In the photo, the man’s gaze was fixed on the young man’s direction—and it would never shift.
That small wallet held so many memories, and so much love.
Oh, and this story was supposed to end here.
The following week, Officer Xiang came to campus to give a lecture titled “College Student Fraud Prevention Awareness.”
The case studies included: flight rescheduling scams, “borrowing money from acquaintances” scams, scalper ticket scams… and so on.
Xia Yiyang: “? Why do all these fraud cases sound so familiar…”
…
November.
Qin Zaozao found a Taoist temple to go on a retreat. Before leaving, she entrusted her beloved pet “Guawazi” to Xia Yiyang’s care for a month.
Guawazi was an exceptionally clever myna bird—black-feathered with yellow eyes, and a few majestic feathers standing proudly atop its head. Whenever it cursed someone, those feathers would perk up like a general’s signal to attack.
By November, Rongcheng had already turned chilly. This was Xia Yiyang’s first winter in the south, and the damp cold made him shiver—he wished he could stay in an air-conditioned room 24/7. While his southern classmates were still wearing single-layer pants, he’d already secretly layered thermal underwear under his jeans, pulling his wool socks up high and carefully tucking the cuffs of his thermals into them, terrified of letting any draft in.
In this weather, Guawazi was like a little mobile heater—cozy and warm as it nestled into his sleeve, occasionally hopping into his lap with just its little head poking out. Xia Yiyang couldn’t help but adore it.
He’d snuck it to class twice. The bird was so well-behaved—wearing its little bird diaper, it would lie quietly next to his pencil case. When it got bored of class, it would waddle around the long desk with its pigeon-toed gait. And if any teacher had no sense of honor and kept dragging class on endlessly, the bird would open its beak, spread its wings, and fly circles around the teacher, squawking “Guawazi! Guawazi!”
Anyway, this bird was an absolute treasure!
“How could it not be my own flesh and blood?” Xia Yiyang cradled the little myna bird and refused to let go, mumbling to Sheng Lin: “Why don’t we talk to Master Qin and see if we can keep Guawazi?”
Sheng Lin uttered two words with his thin lips: “Not a good idea.”
Xia Yiyang: “Why not?”
“Because—ever since it moved in, how long has it been since we’ve had any intimacy?” Sheng Lin picked up the bird and tossed it out of the bedroom. The bird, furious, pecked at the door like a maniac in the living room—it wasn’t a myna anymore, it was a woodpecker.
Xia Yiyang wrapped himself up in the blanket like a clam, mumbling: “There’s no heating here. I’m not taking off my thermal underwear.”
Sheng Lin pried open a corner of his clam-shell and tried to slip in to coax him: “Trust me, I promise I’ll keep you warm. Okay?”
The young man said nothing, flushing red as he shrunk further into the blanket.
They’d been living together for a while now and had come close to going all the way several times, but they’d never followed through. The young master was spoiled and only liked being taken care of. Sheng Lin had gone down on him a few times, and every time after he’d finished, the little guy would scramble away. Sheng Lin would grab him by the ankle and pull him back, making him press his thighs together to hold… And even just that would reduce the young master to tears—big droplets streaming down his face, unable to tell if it was pleasure or pain.
Once winter hit, even that little bit of pleasure disappeared.
Xia Yiyang practically welded his thermal underwear onto his body, guarding his backside like a fortress.
Now with a mischievous bird in the house, Xia Yiyang had even more reason to refuse—saying the bird was too smart and might learn to parrot things back to Master Qin. The young master was too proud to let Master Qin find out the details of his intimacy with Sheng Lin.
Xia Yiyang curled up under the blanket, and Sheng Lin held him through it: “Don’t think of it as a talking bird—think of it as a free-range chicken.”
The young master: “Since when are free-range chickens this smart? At least… at least wait until we send it back.”
Sheng Lin: “Then I’ll call Qin Zaozao right now.”
The young master: “No, no, no—Master Qin is in retreat. Don’t disturb her.”
Sheng Lin: “…”
The man thought helplessly—who exactly was in retreat here? His lover was right in his arms, yet he was the one who’d ended up in retreat?
That night, the two of them had another brief, light encounter—just a little warm-up, a little exchange.
Of course, they couldn’t be too loud—afraid the bird might eavesdrop.
Early the next morning, Xia Yiyang had an 8 AM class. Sheng Lin groggily dug him out of bed. The young man was so sleepy he was wobbling all over; Sheng Lin wiped his face, combed his hair, and dressed him—almost going to class in his place.
As for that annoying bird, Sheng Lin put its diaper on, tied a little scarf around its neck, and tucked it into the hood of Xia Yiyang’s hoodie.
“You two keep each other company in class. If any teacher drags on again, let the bird loose on them,” Sheng Lin said. “Xia Yiyi, are you coming home for lunch, or should I meet you at the cafeteria?”
Xia Yiyang, still half-asleep, mumbled whatever dream he was having: “The shirt is nine pounds fifteen pence…”
“…Fine, I’ll pick you up at the teaching building.”
Xia Yiyang got on the campus shuttle bus. The cold wind in his face blew his hair into a bird’s nest—and also blew some clarity back into his head.
At the teaching building, Xia Yiyang hopped off the bus. His classmates greeted him: “Xia Yiyang, were you at your big brother’s place again yesterday?”
Xia Yiyang: “Yeah.”
He was always open about it. Whenever anyone asked, he’d say Sheng Lin was his brother—even if they weren’t related by blood. So what? Those who understood, understood; those who didn’t, didn’t need to.
“Your brother’s so great,” a classmate said enviously. “He really takes care of you.”
Xia Yiyang: “He does.”
In every way—food, clothing, housing, transportation. Even all the way into bed.
Xia Yiyang was about to step into the teaching building when suddenly, a familiar male voice called out from behind him:
“Xia Yiyi!”
“Ling Ge?”
He instinctively turned around—but couldn’t find Sheng Lin anywhere.
He thought he’d misheard, so he turned and kept walking.
Then another call: “Xia Yiyi!”
Xia Yiyang: “…?”
Dude, that’s kind of creepy, dude.
He stood frozen in place for a full three minutes. During those three minutes, the words “Xia Yiyi” circled around his head like some kind of auditory haunt. He could clearly hear the voice coming from behind him, but no matter how hard he looked, he couldn’t find who was calling his name.
Other than his family, the only person in the world who called him Xia Yiyi was Sheng Lin.
Another “Xia Yiyi”—except this time, the voice came with the sound of flapping wings.
Xia Yiyang had a sudden flash of insight. He reached into the hood of his hoodie behind him and pulled out—oh my goodness, guess what?!
It was “Guawazi”!
The little myna bird sat in his palm, looking absolutely adorable in its little red scarf.
It tilted its head at him, its crest feathers standing up. It blinked, opened its tiny beak, and out came a familiar low male voice: “Xia Yiyi.”
In front of the bustling teaching building, Xia Yiyang covered his flushed face.
Just how many times had Ling Ge called his name for the bird to learn his voice too?
Xia Yiyang poked the bird’s sharp little beak, then couldn’t help but lift it up and plant a kiss on its crest feathers.
He leaned close to the bird’s ear hole and whispered: “Okay, Ling Ge—I love you too.”
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