DLRAS Chapter 163 [If Never Missed]

Chapter 163: End

The summer vacation lasted for two months. Having broken free from his work with the Zheng family, Chen Wengang enjoyed a completely uninterrupted break.

He and Huo Niansheng still went everywhere together. They kept a low profile, though they were occasionally spotted by others. When running into friends, Huo Niansheng never shied away; he would wrap an arm around Chen Wengang and introduce him to everyone. He just never explicitly defined what they were—whether they were boyfriends or something else.

As for what the calculating looks from others meant, Chen Wengang no longer paid them much mind.

The timeline he had brought up on the night of the camping trip was ultimately decided by Huo Niansheng.

One year.

It couldn’t be said that it was inappropriate—after all, university graduation was notoriously known as the season of breakups. Countless campus couples reached this junction only to find it was time to part ways. It wasn’t necessarily because their relationship had hit an insurmountable obstacle; it was simply that everyone had to go through a transformation in identity and lifestyle to kick off a new chapter. The person originally by their side might not be able to walk the same path anymore.

With this definitive deadline set, Chen Wengang found himself harboring a subtle, indefinable feeling.

Regret was not particularly strong. Huo Niansheng wouldn’t have suddenly remembered the concept of breaking up just because he had tested the waters.

It only proved that since Huo Niansheng had agreed so readily, he hadn’t planned on anything long-term from the start.

Chen Wengang actually preferred that if an end was bound to come sooner or later, a final verdict was better than letting things hang in suspension. Huo Niansheng’s attitude toward him remained exactly as it had always been; during their time together, he was an incredibly meticulous lover. From the bed to everyday life, one couldn’t find a single flaw in him.

Sometimes Chen Wengang would reflect on the fact that, one day, he would actually be willing to be in a relationship like this—enjoying today with no guarantee of tomorrow. It was unlike the past when he and Zheng Yucheng were together in their naive way, where even a passing thought of separating felt like a betrayal of their love.

Perhaps his mindset was different now. Knowing that eternal vows were just pretty words spoken on a whim, he simply couldn’t be bothered to say them anymore.

After the school semester began, the university forum experienced yet another sensation.

Someone posted under their real name, admitting that they had authored the previous thread out of jealousy, spreading many untruths about Chen Wengang. They stated they had realized their mistake, understood that spreading rumors and defamation constituted a legal offense, and were making a public apology as required by the lawyer, begging for the party’s forgiveness.

The resulting fallout stirred up a massive wave of excitement and intense gossip among the students once again.

This time, it was Mu Qing’s turn to stay home and weather the storm. However, he remained completely tight-lipped about what had transpired behind the scenes. Zheng Bingyi maintained a low-pressure, tense aura for days. He called his nephew into the study, and when Mu Qing emerged, he locked himself in his room, failing to come down for meals for several consecutive days.

Even Zheng Baochu couldn’t fish out the specific details of what happened.

Of course, since things had reached this point, saying anything more was futile. They resorted to their old tricks, deleting the thread to bury the matter.

Throughout the senior year, time felt entirely insufficient, slipping away in the blink of an eye.

Every graduating student had to make a choice, constantly asking and comparing notes with one another, swapping useful information like ants emerging from a nest.

When asked, Chen Wengang’s answer was that he was going abroad to study.

Zheng Bingyi had agreed to it.

Previously, due to his relationship with Zheng Yucheng, his situation at home had been rather awkward. Now, with Mu Qing added to the mix, the knives were out and all pretense was dropped; they had reached a state where they would never interact again for the rest of their lives. He felt there was no point in forcing himself to cling to the Zheng household.

The road ahead had to be walked on his own anyway. Moreover, from Chen Wengang’s own perspective, he genuinely wanted to go out and see the world.

A different academic atmosphere, a different living environment, different customs and cultures—a fresh beginning.

In the dead of night, while sitting in front of his computer, he occasionally wondered if Huo Niansheng was, to some extent, a small part of the reason.

Flying far away when a relationship ended wasn’t exactly an elegant solution—it felt more like a cliché plot from a overplayed TV drama. However, living in a different place and having that geographical isolation would undoubtedly make it easier to let go of many lingering attachments.

Chen Wengang took both the IELTS and TOEFL exams. Generally, just one score was enough, but since his English was excellent and he excelled at test-taking, he didn’t find it troublesome. He was highly patient, methodically preparing, registering, choosing test centers, and checking results step by step. Then came the application materials: transcripts, project experiences, published articles, personal statements… With a calm and unruffled mind, he categorized and organized them all.

With the recommendation letters from professors secured one by one, Chen Wengang submitted his applications through the system to the five or six target universities he had finalized.

Huo Niansheng was fully aware of all of this. In fact, there were a few times when Huo Niansheng asked him out, and Chen Wengang didn’t even have the spare time to pay him attention.

Replies from overseas universities gradually arrived. More than half sent email notifications, and some required him to participate in online interviews.

Over the weekend, Huo Niansheng picked Chen Wengang up from school and brought him home. This time they didn’t return to the apartment; instead, they went to the villa on the mid-levels of the mountain.

Huo Niansheng owned numerous properties, and this was a small estate located far from the city center, complete with a courtyard, fountains, and a swimming pool. Chen Wengang changed his clothes and sat by the edge of the pool. The sunlight poured down, casting glittering ripples across the emerald water. His lower legs were soaked in the pool, looking dazzlingly fair under the bright sun.

Huo Niansheng walked over with a glass of chilled orange juice. Hooking his fingers around the rim of the glass, he pressed it against Chen Wengang’s cheek.

“You’re a VIP with a busy schedule now, impossible to invite out. You’ve finally graced me with your presence. Are all your interviews finished?”

Chen Wengang shot him a sharp glare, snatched the glass away, and let out a soft sigh of relief. “I’ve done my best, now it’s up to fate.”

“Did it go smoothly?”

“I’m not sure. Anyway, if it doesn’t work out, I’ll just look for a job.”

“So modest.” Huo Niansheng sat down beside him. He leaned in close to Chen Wengang and lowered his voice, his tone carrying a magnetic quality. “The schools you applied to are all in Europe. You’re going so far away—will you miss me in the future?”

Chen Wengang’s heart trembled slightly, as if brushed by a tiny whisk, and an inexplicable surge of aching emotion welled up inside him.

Time was passing faster by the day. The graduation that had once seemed light-years away was now entering its final countdown.

He let out a helpless smile. Chen Wengang admitted to himself that sometimes he still secretly harbored a thread of hope that Huo Niansheng might change his mind before the end arrived. But there was no sign of that happening; hoping for too much only made it seem like he was indulging in unrequited wishful thinking.

He smiled and countered with a question, “Do you want me to miss you, or forget you?”

Huo Niansheng turned his head to look at him for a couple of seconds, then suddenly stretched his arm out. Caught off guard, Chen Wengang was gripped firmly. Huo Niansheng pulled him a bit closer, leaned down, and took a massive gulp of orange juice directly using the straw Chen Wengang had just used. The glass instantly emptied, making a sharp, sputtering sound.

The lines of his forearms were smooth and well-toned from disciplined exercise. From his chest to his abs, and down to his thigh muscles, every part of him bore the hallmarks of self-control.

Chen Wengang turned his face away as certain memories flashed through his mind, the tips of his ears flushing a light shade of red.

Huo Niansheng pulled the straw out and bit it between his teeth, as though he were dangling a cigarette. He said, “Whatever makes you happy.”

Chen Wengang smiled. He scooped up a handful of water with his hand and tossed it forward aimlessly, sending a string of crystal-clear droplets splashing through the air.

Huo Niansheng suddenly spoke up, “By the way, let me know when the results come out. Whichever place you end up going to, I’ll check if I have any friends I know there so I can ask someone to look after you.”

“Thank you.”

“What’s there to thank me for?”

Chen Wengang stared at the continuously swaying surface of the water, his emotions gradually settling into a state of calm.

He nudged Huo Niansheng with his elbow. “Will you come take a photo with me when I graduate?”

Huo Niansheng never refused him anything. He leaned in and kissed the side of his forehead. “I’ll be there. Graduation is a milestone event; of course I have to go see it.”

In June, the university officially conferred the graduation certificates.

On the day of the graduation ceremony, the campus was packed with crowds of people. The ceremony took place in the grand auditorium, and Chen Wengang stood as the valedictorian to deliver a speech on stage.

Standing behind the podium and looking out, he saw a dense sea of thousands of eyes—composed of graduating students and visiting family and friends—all fixed intently upon him. Stage fright wasn’t an issue; the speech had been reviewed and confirmed with the university leadership multiple times, and he knew it so thoroughly he could recite it backward.

Chen Wengang adjusted the microphone.

As his speech concluded, applause thundered through the hall.

Before stepping down from the stage, he scanned the entire venue once more. Amidst the tightly packed, overlapping layers of the crowd, it was incredibly difficult to spot whether one or two specific individuals had actually made it.

When he stepped out of the grand auditorium, Chen Wengang stood dazed on the steps for a brief moment.

On the plaza in front of the auditorium, a tiered photo stand had been set up for group pictures. Groups of students were loudly calling out to their friends, taking turns to go up and strike poses while the photographer peeked out from behind the camera, waving his hands to direct everyone to spread out evenly. Three rows of students on the platform spent ages muttering and discussing before finally deciding to raise both hands above their heads to form a synchronized heart shape.

Summer had already arrived, and the blazing sun combined with the black graduation gowns meant that the white shirts underneath were drenched in sweat in no time.

Chen Wengang had set his phone to silent in his pocket, so he didn’t notice the message notifications immediately. Suddenly, his shoulder was patted gently. He turned his head back, only for a bouquet of flowers to fill his vision. He immediately spun around to the other side, finally spotting the man dressed in a sharp suit.

Huo Niansheng retracted his deliberately extended arm and placed the flowers into Chen Wengang’s arms. “What are you daydreaming about?”

Chen Wengang offered a gentle expression. “Where were you sitting just now?”

“Once I went inside, it was a total jam—shoulder to shoulder. I ended up being ushered to the very edge.” Huo Niansheng accompanied him as they strolled through the campus. “From your angle, you probably couldn’t see me. Later, I swapped seats with someone near the right side of the main stage, so I managed to take some recordings of you.”

“Why would anyone agree to swap with you?”

“I told them the person speaking up there was my younger brother,” Huo Niansheng said. “I said the elders in our family are in poor health and couldn’t witness your glorious moment in person, so I wanted to record a bit of video to take back and show them.”

Chen Wengang smiled faintly. “How can you tell lies without even blinking an eye?”

Huo Niansheng burst out laughing, pressing a finger to his lips to signal shh. “Which of your eyes ever saw me as a good person? That would be the biggest misunderstanding in the world.”

Chen Wengang held the massive bouquet of white roses in his arms; their fragrance was rich and heady, and he looked down to admire them, noting that the petals still carried traces of dew.

Huo Niansheng asked, “Where are we heading to take photos?”

Chen Wengang replied, “The artificial lake. I see everyone else heading over that way.”

By the time they walked over to the lakeside, Chen Wengang finally remembered to check his phone, at last establishing contact with Zheng Baochu, who had been bombarding him with messages for a long time. Zheng Baochu rushed over in a hurry, beads of sweat dotting the tip of her nose.

She had also been watching the graduation ceremony inside the auditorium just now. When the host announced the adjournment, she couldn’t find Huo Niansheng inside, nor could she spot Chen Wengang outside. She sent messages to both, but neither replied, leaving her practically exploding with irritation.

Chen Wengang offered a flurry of soothing words, expending a great deal of effort before finally coaxing her back to good humor. The three of them then flag down a passerby to help them take a commemorative photo.

The edge of the artificial lake was a highly popular spot for graduates to take keepsake photos; waves of young men and women in graduation gowns left only for another group to arrive immediately.

Zheng Baochu was entirely clear on the nature of their relationship. When the passerby handed the camera back, she inspected it. “No way, this one looks incredibly weird. There’s a whole crowd of people walking right behind you. If you pull this out to look at it in the future, what is that going to look like?”

Chen Wengang stole a glance at Huo Niansheng.

Before he could react, he was yanked by her and pushed right next to Huo Niansheng. “Stand properly, let’s do it again.”

Huo Niansheng chuckled, but extended both hands toward Chen Wengang anyway.

He wrapped his arms around Chen Wengang’s shoulders, giving his back a couple of light pats. “You were truly radiant on stage today. Congratulations.”

Chen Wengang smiled. “It’s rare to hear you speak so formally. It actually makes me feel a bit unaccustomed.”

Huo Niansheng pulled him by the shoulder once more, and Zheng Baochu snapped the shutter.

Chen Wengang had all of his graduation photos developed.

He used a dedicated album to store those pictures, though the photo of him and Huo Niansheng together was taken out and placed into a picture frame.

Ordinarily, he wasn’t particularly keen on taking selfies or keepsake photos, and the opportunities for him and Huo Niansheng to share a frame were incredibly few and far between. Over the past few months, with their separation looming, it wasn’t that he hadn’t thought about keeping a memento; it was just that on several occasions, the words reached the tip of his tongue only for him to feel too embarrassed to voice them.

Chen Wengang found a cardboard box to protect the picture frame and tucked it into the very bottom layer of his suitcase.

It was summer vacation once again, though strictly speaking, it no longer had anything to do with a student.

Facing two twenty-nine-inch massive suitcases in his bedroom, Chen Wengang was reminded of this exact time last year—on the very day the final exam week concluded, Huo Niansheng’s phone call had arrived right on schedule, as if he had perfectly timed it, asking where he wanted to go to have fun.

He brushed those memories aside and packed the two suitcases to maximum capacity; this constituted the entire sum of the belongings he was taking with him.

The university he would be attending had naturally been settled long ago, the application results doing full justice to his hard work. However, Zheng Baochu was firmly convinced that the UK was a culinary wasteland, so she stuffed chili sauce, spices, instant noodles, and hotpot soup bases into his luggage without missing a single thing, even going so far as to pack a cooking pot and an electric rice cooker into the suitcases.

Chen Wengang couldn’t win the argument, so he ultimately threw his hands up in defeat, completely leaving himself at her mercy.

Huo Niansheng was decent enough; he didn’t instantly bring up the matter of breaking up the second the deadline arrived. He even took Chen Wengang to the shopping mall to get his hair trimmed, helped him brainstorm items to bring for studying abroad, and bought him clothes and shoes.

Chen Wengang didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Being led around by his hand, it truly felt as though an older brother were looking after his younger sibling.

He tugged at Huo Niansheng’s sleeve. “There’s no need to bring so much. Two suitcases are already not enough. If we buy more, I’ll have to add another suitcase.”

Huo Niansheng stopped in his tracks and patted him. “It’s better to be thoroughly prepared. After all, you’re going to a place where you don’t know the people or the environment. On the off chance you run short of something, even having enough money doesn’t guarantee you’ll know where to buy it. Just check the items into luggage and hire someone to carry them; don’t worry about spending money.”

The smile remained on Chen Wengang’s face, but he suddenly lost the desire to speak.

Huo Niansheng tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “I’ll give you a contact number for someone. If you need anything over there, you can look them up.”

During his remaining time in the country, Chen Wengang was incredibly busy. He received invitations every few days as friends he had decent relationships with held farewell gatherings for him one after another, saying that once he left, no one knew when he would return, so he should experience enough of the domestic food and entertainment to last him.

On the final weekend before his departure, Huo Niansheng took him to a yacht club.

They lingered intimately in bed. Huo Niansheng channeled the absolute peak of tenderness, kissing Chen Wengang gently and taking his sweet time with painstaking care. Chen Wengang’s eyes were glistening with moisture; he looked at Huo Niansheng with the gaze of a small animal, clinging tightly to his neck. Huo Niansheng held him so intensely it felt as though he wanted to fuse him right into his own flesh and blood. The two of them didn’t leave the room for the entire day, as if tomorrow were the end of the world and the only thing left to do today was to indulge themselves completely.

Sleeping from sheer exhaustion, Chen Wengang woke up resting his head against Huo Niansheng’s arm. The moment he stirred, Huo Niansheng leaned over to kiss him again.

Chen Wengang whispered, “I’ll be leaving very soon.”

Huo Niansheng replied, “I know.”

By the third day, the two went out for a stroll along the beach. The sun was brutally hot, so they ultimately returned indoors, and Chen Wengang suggested heading to the tennis hall.

He and Huo Niansheng played for a while, hitting the ball back and forth. It was purely for recreation, with no intention of aggressively competing over who was superior.

Half an hour later, a noisy crowd of people swarmed into the tennis hall. They were regulars here, and all of them happened to be Huo Niansheng’s friends.

These few individuals also knew Chen Wengang, having been introduced during prior meetings, so the gathering turned into matches spanning multiple courts simultaneously.

Huo Niansheng was pulled away by someone, leaving Chen Wengang’s opponent to be an acquaintance he wasn’t particularly close with.

However, that friend possessed terrible technique, hitting the ball wildly in all directions. His playing style was equally poor, and he couldn’t handle losing—one moment complaining that the racket didn’t feel right, the next that the ball was faulty, and then that the backlight was blinding his eyes. After a few rounds, Chen Wengang no longer wanted to keep playing along with him.

He used an excuse to withdraw from the court, prompting the man to mutter under his breath, “Fine, if you can’t handle playing, then forget it.”

Chen Wengang explained that he was tired and just wanted to rest on the sidelines for a bit.

The other person delivered a sarcastic remark, “Well, of course. Getting tired means someone’s heart will ache for you, unlike us thick-skinned folks. Go on and rest then.”

Under normal circumstances, Chen Wengang would maintain his upbringing and likely ignore him. Today, however, he uncharacteristically showed his irritation, tossing the racket aside with a cold face and saying flatly, “It’s my skill level that’s too sub-par to have the ability to serve as a sparring partner for you, young master. Yielding the court to someone capable still isn’t enough to satisfy you?”

The man was clearly taken aback, having completely failed to anticipate that he would strike back. “Don’t be like that. You’re making it sound like I did something to you.”

Chen Wengang said, “It’s best if you didn’t.”

With that, he turned and walked away. Huo Niansheng happened to be standing by the edge of the court, and as he pulled Chen Wengang, the younger man ran straight into his chest.

His heart was filled with irritation, though Huo Niansheng hadn’t noticed the friction just now. “What’s wrong?”

Chen Wengang said it was nothing. “I don’t want to play anymore, I’m heading back.”

Huo Niansheng leaned in close to ask, “Who upset you?”

Chen Wengang kept a expressionless face. “Nobody upset me.”

Huo Niansheng pinched his earlobe. “That expression of yours doesn’t exactly look like nothing is wrong.”

Chen Wengang suddenly brushed his hand away, raising his voice, “Why do you have to manage so much? Do I have to report every single thing about myself to you?!”

This loud outburst instantly drew everyone’s gaze. Shouting at Huo Niansheng in public was certainly a rare sight, and it made him appear quite unreasonable. Chen Wengang pushed Huo Niansheng away and quickly left the crowd behind, completely disregarding anyone else’s reactions.

He went straight back to the room in one breath. Huo Niansheng followed close on his heels, pushing the door open to find him curled up on the sofa.

Huo Niansheng sat down beside him, turning his shoulders around to face him. He asked Chen Wengang, “What on earth happened?”

Chen Wengang ran a hand through his hair, his tone softening slightly. “It’s nothing. That guy just now was being sarcastic, and I got a little angry.”

Huo Niansheng said, “Just for that? What did he say that could actually push you to your limit? I’ll make him apologize to you later.”

Chen Wengang replied, “It wasn’t that severe.” He added, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you either.”

No matter how else Huo Niansheng questioned him, he refused to say anything more.

When they crossed paths again later, the man—willingly or not—did come over to offer an apology.

However, over the next two days, the interactions between Chen Wengang and Huo Niansheng carried an awkward, strained vibe. It felt as though once a certain line was crossed, it became incredibly difficult to correct it back. Ultimately, Huo Niansheng drove Chen Wengang back to the Zheng estate, bringing the car to a halt right at the main entrance.

He asked, “Your flight is the day after tomorrow?”

Chen Wengang nodded. “Yes.”

Huo Niansheng unbuckled his seatbelt for him. “Go on inside.”

Chen Wengang remained silent for a moment before leaning his body across to lightly press his lips against the older man’s.

In the blink of an eye, the day before his departure arrived. Chen Wengang said his goodbyes to Zheng Bingyi, Uncle Lin, Zheng Baochu, and even Zheng Maoxun. As he was performing a final check on his passport and visa before sleep, he received a phone call from Huo Niansheng. “Is your flight tomorrow the eleven o’clock one?”

“What?”

“I’ll drive you to the airport.”

Chen Wengang couldn’t react for a second, taking a beat to process his meaning. “Don’t trouble yourself. Uncle Lin has already arranged a driver.”

“Tell him it’s not needed anymore,” Huo Niansheng stated arbitrarily. “Tomorrow I’ll head to your uncle’s house first to help you move your luggage.”

Chen Wengang’s heart was instantly flooded with that familiar, aching sensation. Clutching his phone, he couldn’t bear to refuse, nor could he bear to hang up.

On the other end, Huo Niansheng let out a low chuckle, his voice carrying a slight nasal quality. “Then that’s settled. Get some sleep early.”

Chen Wengang parted his lips, but before he could produce any sound, the call disconnected.

He finished washing up, turned off the lights, and sat blankly in the darkness for a long time.

Chen Wengang had originally braced his mind for the fact that this fleeting relationship would likely require a period of time to fade—perhaps a few months, perhaps a year or so, or maybe even longer. Given enough time, he could slowly bid it farewell.

Yet this phone call had to disrupt everything. It felt endless, leaving him entirely sleepless for the night.

At eight o’clock in the morning, Huo Niansheng appeared in the Zheng family’s living room exactly as promised.

Chen Wengang had moved the three suitcases down ahead of time. Coupled with the items Huo Niansheng had bought, his luggage had ultimately increased by one more piece.

He dragged one suitcase in each hand, requiring Uncle Lin’s help to roll the third one. Huo Niansheng opened the trunk and stacked the suitcases inside one by one.

This left Chen Wengang feeling a bit embarrassed. “I brought too many things.”

Huo Niansheng didn’t mind at all, patting him on the back. “It’s fine. Get in the car.”

The highway leading to the airport was completely free of traffic, and an hour later, the car came to a stop outside the terminal building, wedged amidst a row of taxis.

The two exited from opposite sides of the vehicle. Huo Niansheng opened the trunk once more to help lift the suitcases out.

At the terminal’s security checkpoint, Huo Niansheng could go no further. He handed the rolling suitcases over to Chen Wengang, leaving the younger man to manage three pieces of luggage with just two hands, instantly causing him to look a bit clumsy. But he had no mental bandwidth to care about that; he simply reached out and embraced Huo Niansheng one last time.

His palms pressed against the broad back, as though he were holding the most precious thing in the world.

Huo Niansheng asked, “Is there anything else you want to say to me?”

Chen Wengang sighed, offering him a smile. “I didn’t answer that question before. I actually will miss you.”

Hearing this, Huo Niansheng posed another question, “If I were to ask you to stay right now, would you be willing not to go?”

Chen Wengang froze, staring at him in confusion, unable to distinguish for a moment whether it was a joke or a genuine statement.

However, a spark seemed to ignite in his chest, his heart thumping wildly as if sensing danger approaching.

He hesitated for a long time, hoping Huo Niansheng would say a bit more to provide him with more information so he could judge the situation at hand.

Huo Niansheng merely gazed at him, his pupils reflecting two miniature silhouettes.

After a long pause, Chen Wengang finally spoke up, “I would be willing. But who on earth waits until the very last moment to ask someone to stay?”

Huo Niansheng laughed. “Don’t TV dramas always play out like that?”

Chen Wengang laughed too, reaching out to straighten the older man’s collar. “Then it’s too late. I suppose directors and scriptwriters assume that’s what makes it romantic.”

He sent the three suitcases onto the conveyor belt one by one. When he turned back around, Huo Niansheng was still standing in his original spot, his gaze looking inward through the glass barrier.

Their eyes met, and Chen Wengang waved his hand at him. Then, without looking back again, he stepped forward into the crowd.

Chen Wengang rented a small luggage trolley from the airport staff, piling his bags onto it to wheel them over to the check-in counter for luggage drop. After expending a fair amount of effort, he left the counter carrying nothing but a single backpack. His hands were freed, yet his heart felt incredibly heavy.

It felt as though something airtight was pressing down on him, making it hard to breathe.

Since it was still early, Chen Wengang was in no rush to pass through security, aimlessly wandering around the grand hall instead. He nearly crashed right into a person.

He had been keeping his head down, but the individual proactively stabilized him by the arm, and the voice of Huo Niansheng actually echoed from above his head, “You really didn’t cry, huh.”

Chen Wengang gasped in shock, staring at him in utter bewilderment. “How did you get in here?”

Huo Niansheng threw an arm around him, walking side-by-side with him. “I found a way, of course. It’s not like I forced my way in.”

Chen Wengang’s throat felt tight, leaving him speechless. “You…”

He suddenly halted his steps, and Huo Niansheng stopped as well, leaving them facing each other amidst the flow of people. Chen Wengang could no longer hold back; he threw his arms out and tightly locked Huo Niansheng in his embrace once more. He exerted almost the greatest amount of strength he could muster in his life, the tips of his fingers trembling faintly.

“You clearly know I can’t bear to leave you,” Chen Wengang muttered, a layer of mist rapidly clouding his eyes. “What exactly are you trying to do?”

“I wanted to come and ask what your intentions are,” Huo Niansheng said. “If you’re this reluctant to leave, can you really not even bring yourself to say that you like me?”

He didn’t continue speaking, because Chen Wengang merely gripped his waist tightly, pasting his entire body against him.

Passengers dragging luggage walked past them back and forth, curious glances occasionally drifting over in secret.

Consequently, they relocated to a quieter corner. Chen Wengang tugged at Huo Niansheng’s arm the whole way, trailing half a step behind while looking up to observe him. Huo Niansheng looked entirely casual, slinging the younger man’s backpack over his own shoulder as he led the way forward. A child suddenly dashed out from nowhere, crashing straight into Huo Niansheng’s leg.

The parents chased closely from behind, their scolding voices swallowed by the noisy environment.

Seeing that the adult in front of him paid him no attention, the mischievous kid stuck his tongue out and took off like a cannonball toward another direction.

Huo Niansheng pressed Chen Wengang against the corner of the wall. “When I went abroad at eighteen, I checked in at this exact terminal building, waiting to board an international flight. Back then, I didn’t carry any burdens at all; instead, I felt like I had shaken off a lot of trouble, which felt quite good.”

With rimmed eyes, Chen Wengang actually burst into a smile. “I know, but I didn’t realize you left so lightheartedly.”

“I suppose it was lighthearted,” Huo Niansheng said. “But it’s not like I didn’t have a single lingering thought.”

He glanced at the crowd behind them before turning back. “Actually, while I was standing here back then, for some reason, I suddenly thought of you—it was just a passing flash of a thought, but it definitely happened… I wondered how you would get on in the future, and if you got bullied again, who else you could possibly turn to to stand up for you.”

Chen Wengang let out an ah. “Why would you think of that?”

Huo Niansheng stroked his face. “When we met for the very first time, I told you that you would have a different life in the future, and that you needed to grow up quickly to grasp your own destiny. Perhaps due to the tricks of fate, my own life took a sharp turn too, so it naturally crossed my mind whether you would think that was just a boring adult talking big.”

He took half a step back, smiling softly. “And then later when I returned to the country, you really had grown up. It didn’t feel like several years had passed at all, yet you weren’t that little kid from before anymore. You had your own ideas, and you had even taken on a boyfriend…”

With his back resting against the wall, a bittersweet but incredibly light emotion expanded inside Chen Wengang’s heart.

Huo Niansheng added, “Furthermore, you showed absolutely no regard for our past connection, guarding against me as if I were a monster.”

Chen Wengang protested, “I didn’t.” He attempted to explain, “That was because…”

Huo Niansheng rested his forehead against the younger man’s. “I said I liked you a little bit, and I said you could evaluate me over the long term. I never told a lie, did I? It was you who refused to trust me from the very start, projecting the worst possible assumptions onto me. Am I not even allowed to calculate against you a little bit to even the score?”

Chen Wengang was finally amused into a laugh again. “So you orchestrated this massive ordeal just for that, Young Master Huo?”

Huo Niansheng asked softly, “If I hadn’t stepped in to stop you, were you really planning on never interacting with me again for the rest of your life?”

Chen Wengang wrapped his arms around the older man’s neck. “It was my fault. I actually don’t want to break up with you.”

Huo Niansheng cupped his face, leaning down to seek his lips.

After embracing for a long while, the two slowly parted. The flight was scheduled to take off in two hours; a departure was bound to happen after all.

Chen Wengang still felt a sense of reluctance, but fortunately, the heavy stone clogging his chest had completely shattered and vanished. “Then… I’m leaving?”

Huo Niansheng had already retracted both hands into his pockets, gazing at him with a smile, his eyes filled with a layer of undisguised affection.

Chen Wengang smiled. “I’ll try my best to fly back a few more times when I have time. Of course, provided you’re willing to wait.”

Huo Niansheng remained entirely nonchalant, offering no words of farewell either as he accompanied him all the way to the border inspection.

Chen Wengang queued up, and Huo Niansheng joined the line right along with him. Chen Wengang handed over his identification documents, and Huo Niansheng proceeded to pull out his passport as well. Crossing the border required a visa, leaving Chen Wengang confused. He turned his head, wanting to look at him, but the staff member immediately reminded him to keep moving forward and not linger.

Just like that, they were urged forward by the passengers behind them, following the strict one-way route until they reached the security screening area.

The security officer worked non-stop, sliding a plastic bin over. Chen Wengang had no choice but to unzip his backpack first, pulling out his power bank and phone.

Huo Niansheng followed right behind, taking a small bin as well and tossing his phone inside; just that single item rode lonesomely along the conveyor belt.

It wasn’t until they had thoroughly cleared the security zone, retrieved their belongings, and walked a fair distance away that Chen Wengang and Huo Niansheng found a spot to stand still.

Understanding the silent question, Huo Niansheng pulled a boarding pass from his pocket, flashing it briefly before his eyes—

An international flight, the exact same aircraft.

The unbelievable premonition in his heart had suddenly transformed into reality, feeling as though countless fireworks were exploding inside his mind.

Innumerable thoughts raced through Chen Wengang’s brain, yet when the words reached his lips, he couldn’t articulate a single one. Huo Niansheng had already reclaimed his backpack. “I’m heading over there with you to help get you settled in. Having an extra pair of hands to haul suitcases around—surely you won’t be unhappy about that, right?”

Chen Wengang snapped out of his daze, grabbing his sleeve. “Wait a minute, you’re boarding just like this? Did you not bring any luggage?”

Huo Niansheng hooked his finger under the backpack strap. “There’s nothing I need to bring; I have an apartment over there. Your choice of universities is quite particular—they all happen to be located in the exact same region where I attended university.”

Chen Wengang smiled. Since things had reached this stage, there was no longer any need to deny his little motivations. “What about work? Won’t this disrupt it?”

Huo Niansheng replied, “My position has already been transferred over there. I won’t be in any rush to return for the next three to five years.”

He maintained that same casual, carefree demeanor. Chen Wengang shifted his grip from the sleeve down to the older man’s hand, slowly wrapping his fingers around it until they were holding hands tightly.

Huo Niansheng smiled and said, “Now you know how to ask questions. I kept waiting for you to sneakily dig for information, waiting for you to proactively ask me, but you did absolutely none of it. I really don’t know if you’re just too honest, or if you simply don’t care about me at all! Have you ever heard that old saying—forget it, you definitely have—’the crying child gets the milk’? When exactly do you plan on changing this hesitant character of yours where you never dare to demand anything?”

The corners of Chen Wengang’s mouth curved up instinctively, his only response being to tighten the grip of his hand.

Huo Niansheng stole a glance down at him, suddenly planting a kiss against the side of his forehead.

Chen Wengang looked left and right, wanting to quicken their pace, only to be yanked right back. Huo Niansheng produced the boarding passes, and Chen Wengang leaned down to verify the gate numbers. Shoulder to shoulder, they walked toward the boarding gate.

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