The soundproofing on Tang Rui’s car was nowhere near as good as Yao Yi’s. Sounds from outside filtered in clearly—people complaining about failing their tests, people on the phone, cars pulling in, cars pulling out…
Amid the cluttered noise, Chen Jian could still hear his own heartbeat and breathing with pinpoint accuracy.
Even the air he exhaled felt hot against his nose.
He didn’t dare glance toward Shan Yu, keeping his head down and staring intently at Shan Yu’s hand. Even though it was wrapped in gauze, Shan Yu kept his hand neat and clean, his fingernails trimmed perfectly square and even.
It was a little awkward.
The warmth on his fingertips had traveled along his arm, creeping all the way up to his ears.
His ears were definitely burning red by now.
Yet he still didn’t want to let go of Shan Yu’s hand.
So he squeezed Shan Yu’s fingertips—index finger, middle finger, ring finger, pinky—kneading them one by one.
Just as he was about to work his way back in reverse, his phone rang.
He picked it up with his free hand and glanced at the screen; it was Instructor Li from driving school.
Without letting go of Shan Yu’s hand, he answered with one hand: “Hello, Instructor Li.”
“You’re testing in a bit, right?” Instructor Li said. “I’m right by the entrance of the waiting hall…”
Guilt spiked through Chen Jian like a thief caught in the act. He darted a wary glance toward the waiting hall… The driving instructors all dressed the same and even looked vaguely similar; having only met him once during the physical exam, Chen Jian couldn’t tell which one was Instructor Li.
“Yeah, there’s still…” Chen Jian checked the time on his phone and startled. Only ten minutes left. “Ten minutes until testing starts.”
“Don’t leave after you finish. Since you’re already here,” Instructor Li said, “I’ll take you out for a practice run first.”
“Sounds good.” Chen Jian hung up and turned to look at Shan Yu. “Holy crap, there’s only ten minutes left.”
“Go on,” Shan Yu said.
“Mm.” Chen Jian responded. Looking down, he finally realized that he was the one clutching Shan Yu’s hand, not Shan Yu holding his. He quickly let go and popped open the car door.
Stepping out, he asked with a twinge of worry, “You’ll just wait for me here?”
To be fair, the surroundings were pretty desolate. Aside from a general store across the road, there wasn’t a boba shop or coffee shop in sight.
“Stop babbling,” Shan Yu looked at him. “We arrived half an hour early—don’t end up being late and having to retake it.”
Chen Jian shut the car door and sprinted toward the testing hall.
Shan Yu got out and walked a lap, intending to wander around the area, but climbed back inside after less than two minutes. Freezing.
He adjusted the seat back, lay down, and held his right hand up.
When Chen Jian gripped his hand earlier, he seemed to have forgotten that beneath the bandages lay an injury. The kid had squeezed with quite a bit of force, twisting right against the wound until it throbbed. Holding it elevated now relieved the blood pressure, making it feel considerably better.
If Chen Jian had gone inside five minutes later, the stitches probably would have ripped right open.
After holding it up for a while, Yue Lang’s phone call inevitably buzzed in—they had probably finished the rafting.
“You really are my flesh-and-blood brother,” Yue Lang said.
“What, looking to murder me so you can inherit my mom’s company?” Shan Yu countered.
“Where are my cigarettes?” Yue Lang asked. “What did you run off to do earlier? You even swiped my wife’s conference pass?”
“It’s in my pocket, forgot to put it back.” Shan Yu kept his hand raised, staring at his fingers.
“Did you forget to put my cigarettes back too?” Yue Lang asked.
“Smoking is bad for your health. Quit while you’re ahead, big brother,” Shan Yu said.
“Fuck off,” Yue Lang said.
“I just went to talk to people about the bonfire festival,” Shan Yu said. “Those other inns handle things like amateurs. Wasted an entire carton of your smokes.”
“Which day is the bonfire festival?” Yao Yi’s voice drifted through the receiver. “Will we still be around for it?”
“Are you two seriously going to burn through your entire annual leave here?” Shan Yu sighed. “It kicks off in three days. If you don’t leave, you’ll catch it.”
“She loves this place,” Yue Lang said. “I think it’s just okay, though the rafting today was pretty fun. Going again tomorrow… Where are you right now? Let’s grab dinner at that hillside restaurant tonight.”
There’s a hillside restaurant?
He genuinely had no clue. Some boss he was—less informed than tourists who had arrived two days ago.
“In the old town. Chen Jian is taking Subject 1,” Shan Yu said. “He has driving practice after, probably won’t be back until after eight.”
“Then we’ll head up first,” Yue Lang said. “Once you two get back, just drive straight up.”
“You want me navigating a pitch-black mountain in the dead of night?” Shan Yu asked.
“It’s a smooth, wide highway! Broad and paved!” Yue Lang barked. “You’ve been here for months—have you seriously never been up there?”
“Nope. The wheelchair’s displacement was too small, couldn’t make the climb,” Shan Yu said.
“Your wheelchair was electric,” Yue Lang said.
“Lacked horsepower, and the battery range left something to be desired,” Shan Yu deadpanned.
“Cut the crap. If you don’t know the way, have Chen Jian guide you up,” Yue Lang said. “We’re heading back to change first, soaked to the bone.”
Chen Jian?
Chen Jian hadn’t been up there either; he had no time.
Not even the time to enjoy the very place he grew up in.
While it was possible he simply found familiar sights uninteresting, judging by the ferocious drive with which he repaid his debts, he truly had virtually no free time.
Shan Yu closed his eyes. He hadn’t slept much last night, and though he hadn’t felt tired earlier, drowsiness suddenly washed over him out of nowhere.
Might as well rest his eyes.
Yet it felt like barely any time had passed before the car door clicked and was pulled open.
He opened his eyes to see Chen Jian bounding into the car, trailing a blast of cold wind.
“How did it go?” Shan Yu looked at him.
“Passed with a ninety-six,” Chen Jian smiled. “I finished early.”
“Worrying you’d fail before going in, and then finishing early during the actual test?” Shan Yu said.
“The questions were easier than the practice sets I ran through earlier. I knew them at a glance,” Chen Jian said, grinning.
“What now?” Shan Yu asked.
“Going to practice driving for a bit,” Chen Jian hesitated slightly. “Why don’t you…”
“Don’t worry about me,” Shan Yu said. “Doesn’t matter to me.”
“Then wait for me a bit,” Chen Jian unzipped his jacket, pulled two paper bags wrapped in plastic from inside, and handed one over. “Eat lunch first.”
“You actually remembered that?” Shan Yu was genuinely surprised. “I thought you’d forgotten.”
“I remembered the whole time; I thought you forgot,” Chen Jian opened the paper bag, releasing an appetizing aroma. “I was starving to death. Every time I answered a question during the test, my stomach growled…”
“What is this?” Shan Yu cranked his seat back up.
“A rice ball,” Chen Jian said. “I called Instructor Li earlier to ask where to get fast food, and he recommended these. Said they’re way better than takeout.”
“Smells pretty great.” Shan Yu opened the bag. Steam poured out; he hadn’t felt an appetite before, but now hunger hit him abruptly.
“The practice grounds are just one street over,” Chen Jian said between bites. “I can just walk over in a bit.”
“What’s the point of that?” Shan Yu said. “It’s no hassle. I’m driving you there, not carrying you on my back.”
Chen Jian paused, then chuckled.
Lunch was bare-bones and hasty, but the rice ball was exceptionally fragrant and massive; by the end, he felt stuffed.
Finishing up, Shan Yu glanced at Chen Jian, only to see him pull two cartons of yogurt from his pocket.
“I can’t eat another bite,” Shan Yu said immediately.
“I’ll make do with them,” Chen Jian said, puncturing the carton to drink.
“Go ahead and ‘make do’ with both,” Shan Yu said. “Miss a single bite and I’m afraid you’ll start gnawing on the trainer car.”
Chen Jian laughed, taking two sips before murmuring, “Those trainer cars are so gross.”
“Then go back and chew on Yao Yi’s car. Hers is brand new, clean, and smells nice,” Shan Yu said.
“You’re out of your mind,” Chen Jian smiled. “How did we even get onto that?”
“Yue Lang is treating tonight,” Shan Yu looked at him. “Do you know about a hillside restaurant?”
“Yeah,” Chen Jian nodded. “Aren’t there a few guesthouses halfway up the mountain? The restaurant is right along the winding road above them. Pretty high-end; heard they spent a fortune building it.”
“Pretty well-informed. I figured you wouldn’t know.” Shan Yu started the car.
“Just heard people talk about it,” Chen Jian said. “Never been up there myself.”
“Let’s go check it out tonight,” Shan Yu said. “Living here for twenty years, about time you saw it.”
“…Mm.” Chen Jian chewed on his straw.
His mind rapidly calculated whether there was anything left to handle at the inn tonight.
Three other students were practicing with Chen Jian: an older uncle, an older woman, and a young guy around Chen Jian’s age.
None of them were first-timers, so their progress differed from Chen Jian’s, though judging by the instructor’s fiery temper, their progress wasn’t particularly fast.
Throughout this lesson, set against the backdrop of Instructor Li’s relentless roasting of the other three students, Chen Jian first familiarized himself with the cabin layout, followed by learning all the adjustments—from the steering wheel to the seat to the rearview mirrors.
Then came shifting gears.
As Chen Jian shifted, the instructor barked out the window at the waiting students: “See that! He got it on the first try! Just push straight, horizontal and vertical! How long have you lot been fumbling over this simple crap? Every wrinkle on my face was ground into my skin by your gear shifting!”
Chen Jian didn’t dare pause, dutifully shifting into first, back to neutral, reverse, neutral, over and over, worried that whatever residual anger the instructor had might splash back onto him.
“Alright, that’s good. You learn fast,” Instructor Li said. “If everyone were like you, teaching would be a breeze. Now try starting the engine.”
“Mm.” Chen Jian fired up the car.
“Try pulling forward a bit,” Instructor Li said. “Your brother mentioned you’re pressed for time, so we’ll pick up the pace slightly. Keep your focus sharp.”
Chen Jian acknowledged the instruction, then carefully followed what Instructor Li had demonstrated earlier—handbrake, clutch… The car rolled forward smoothly.
“Good. Brake, stop,” Instructor Li glanced at him. “Driven before?”
“No, just scooters,” Chen Jian said.
“Decent coordination.” Instructor Li nodded.
After practicing for a while, Chen Jian stepped out of the car, squatting nearby to watch the others take their turns.
He glanced toward the parking lot and noticed Shan Yu wasn’t waiting in the car; he had gotten out, leaning against the railing and watching from afar.
Chen Jian pulled out his phone and fired off a text.
[Chen Yu Luo Yan]:Wind is strong, huh
[Fa Shan Ke Chen]:Yeah, why, can you make it stop?
[Chen Yu Luo Yan]:…………………………
[Chen Yu Luo Yan]:Telling you to wait in the car
[Fa Shan Ke Chen]:Watching for a bit first
Chen Jian saw the profile picture for Fa Shan Ke Chen again. Even though he knew this alternate account only had him as a contact, opening a chat box only to be greeted by a close-up of himself wrapped in a quilt sleeping on the floor felt… His eyes would subconsciously dart away every time, too embarrassed to look closely.
To this moment, he hadn’t dared inspect that photo properly.
[Chen Yu Luo Yan]:That avatar of yours…
[Fa Shan Ke Chen]:What about it
Before he could react, Shan Yu sent the original photo straight into the chat.
“Oh, fuck.” Chen Jian nearly threw his phone away.
He glanced sideways toward Shan Yu.
Shan Yu looked thoroughly amused.
Chen Jian let out a sigh, brought the phone back before his face, gritted his teeth, and tapped open the picture.
…Actually, not bad.
No drooling.
No half-open eyes.
One night when he returned to the dorms, he had discovered Lao Si slept with his eyes half-open—a lethal sight capable of giving any burglar a heart attack. Chen Jian had frozen in terror for ages before confirming Lao Si was indeed asleep, then carefully crept over to smooth his eyelids shut.
Ever since that day, he had constantly worried whether he did the same thing, though he had never possessed the nerve to ask anyone to check on him at night…
Thank goodness, they were closed.
Before he could squat by the road for long, it was Chen Jian’s turn again.
Because he picked things up quickly and his “brother” had specifically asked to expedite the process, the instructor had him join the other students after a few rounds to start practicing reverse parking.
Rotating through the drills like this, Chen Jian found it fascinating, even harboring a sudden impulse to drive the car all the way back to town. By the time the instructor announced the end of the lesson, dusk had already settled over the sky.
Shan Yu was no longer standing by the railing, having likely retreated to the car because of the biting wind.
Bidding the instructor goodbye, Chen Jian broke into a dead sprint toward the parking lot.
Reaching the car, he saw Shan Yu sitting inside looking at his phone. With one glance, Chen Jian caught sight of his own face on the screen—and not the floor-sleeping photo, but one from the barbecue party.
“The photos came through?” he asked.
“She only edited one and sent it over so we could check the vibe,” Shan Yu locked the screen and looked at him. “Done with practice?”
“All done. Remarkable progress, received high praise from the instructor,” Chen Jian leaned a bit closer. “Can I see the photo?”
“Honestly, it’ll look better on their laptop screen tonight,” Shan Yu said, yet still unlocked his phone and held it out. “Just this one for now. The rest will have to wait until Yao Yi gets back and sorts through them properly.”
Chen Jian saw himself holding a handful of skewers, standing behind Shan Yu and taking a bite.
The color palette was a warm golden hue. He was eating with relish, and Shan Yu was smiling… very warmly.
Soon, however, it registered that this was a private chat between Yue Lang and Shan Yu. Stunned, he asked, “You’re using your main account?”
“Mm, how else would he send me the photo?” Shan Yu smiled. “Want to add it? We’ll add each other once we get back.”
“Okay.” Chen Jian nodded, handing the phone back.
He actually wanted to add it right now, to see what Shan Yu’s screen name used to be, what was on his Moments feed…
…His Moments wouldn’t be set to “visible for three days only,” would it?
“Did you tell Chen Xiaohu we’re returning the car tomorrow?” Shan Yu drove out of the lot.
“Mm,” Chen Jian acknowledged. “Let’s head straight up the mountain in a bit. I’m worried heading back to the inn first will make it too late, and keeping people waiting isn’t great.”
“They won’t be sitting around waiting,” Shan Yu said. “They’ve definitely started eating. When we arrive, they’ll just restart and eat a second round.”
Chen Jian laughed.
At this time of year, night fell rapidly. By the time the car turned onto the fork leading toward the town, complete darkness had swallowed the landscape.
With no streetlights, theirs was the only car on the road. The headlights cut through the gloom ahead, illuminating tiny leaves and debris swirling in the gusty wind, creating the illusion of falling snow.
Serene.
A unique tranquility belonging entirely to the place where he had grown up.
After driving for a stretch, the serenity shattered.
A loud thud echoed from outside the car.
“What was that?” Chen Jian jumped. “Blown tire?”
“Not sure,” Shan Yu slowed down, easing the car to the roadside. “Let’s check.”
Throwing on their jackets, both stepped out and turned on their phone flashlights, circling the car twice. The tires were intact, and the body showed no obvious damage.
“Probably a stray stone kicked up against the wheel hub.” Shan Yu leaned against the passenger door, arms crossed.
“Probably. As long as the tire isn’t flat, otherwise we’d have to change it.” Chen Jian inspected the hub under his phone’s beam.
Straightening up, a sharp gust whipped past, tossing Shan Yu’s hair into the wind.
Though the setting was entirely different, Chen Jian froze for a second. The memory of Shan Yu turning his head by the viewing platform railing flashed through his mind.
The precise moment that had made his breath lose its way.
He stood motionless, facing Shan Yu.
“Mm?” Shan Yu tilted his head slightly.
Chen Jian didn’t make a sound. The wind howling past his ears roared like the rumble of drums.
Shan Yu didn’t move either. After a beat of silence, he opened his arms.
Without the slightest hesitation, as if propelled by the wind itself, Chen Jian closed the distance in a single stride. Slipping his hands straight beneath Shan Yu’s open coat, he threw his arms around him.
The rushing warmth enveloped him a second later. Chen Jian tightened his grip fiercely, turning his head to bury his face against the crook of Shan Yu’s neck.
Chen Jian, why are you so cute 🤗