Pei Huan is half a head taller than Yan Zimi.

It’s just that half a head that allows Yan Zimi to rest his chin perfectly in the nook of Pei Huan’s neck when he stands upright.

As Yan Zimi’s thoughts returned to Earth, he suddenly remembered that Pei Huan had just asked him, “Is it warm?”

Yan Zimi lightly touched the hem of Pei Huan’s white sweatshirt and replied, “It’s warm.”

And it wasn’t just his body that felt warm.

Pei Huan smiled, and the sound of his laughter reached Yan Zimi’s ears through the air while also vibrating around Pei Huan’s neck, gently brushing against Yan Zimi’s skin.

Pei Huan patted Yan Zimi’s head and, while supporting his shoulders, seemed to want to pull away, but Yan Zimi wasn’t willing to let go.

He gritted his teeth and changed the direction of his hand, grabbing the fabric at the back of Pei Huan’s shirt instead.

It felt like he was hugging Pei Huan.

Pei Huan laughed again, his voice deep, and he lowered his head, asking, “So warm, huh?”

Yan Zimi buried his head a little and whispered, “I’m cold.”

Heaven seemed to understand; just as he finished speaking, a gust of wind blew by.

Yan Zimi was hopelessly indulged in this warmth. He had long told himself to let it go, that it was enough, but he just couldn’t pull his hands away.

His head was stuck too.

But clearly, it wasn’t right to stay like this for too long, so at a moment that felt like a tipping point, Yan Zimi finally released Pei Huan and offered a forced explanation for the atmosphere, saying, “The wind stopped.”

Pei Huan didn’t doubt him at all and reached for his jacket to take it off. “You should wear this.”

Yan Zimi quickly stopped him. “No, you wear it. I’m not cold anymore.”

Pei Huan turned to look at Yan Zimi.

Yan Zimi insisted seriously, “Really.”

This embrace seemed long, but in reality, it was only stretched out in Yan Zimi’s heart; perhaps in the correct timeline, it lasted less than half a minute.

After they walked side by side again, Yan Zimi awkwardly tucked his hands into his pockets, secretly feeling happy.

The winter wind wasn’t that biting after all.

But soon enough, Yan Zimi let out a small “huh.”

Pei Huan heard him and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Yan Zimi hesitantly pointed at Pei Huan’s neck. “I think I just smelled something,” he said, looking into Pei Huan’s eyes, not quite sure. “What kind of body wash do you use?”

Pei Huan chuckled. “Your nose is pretty sharp.”

Yan Zimi paused for a moment.

Pei Huan explained, “The other day when I took a shower at your place, I thought it smelled really nice. Since I ran out of mine, I just bought the same set.”

Yan Zimi slowly withdrew his hand. “You bought the same body wash as me?”

Pei Huan replied, “And the shampoo, too.”

A part of Yan Zimi’s heart suddenly felt like it was knocked.

“Oh.”

It really was unintentional…

Why was Pei Huan like this?

After a few seconds, Yan Zimi somewhat reluctantly added, “You just like using the same things as me.”

Pei Huan answered straightforwardly, “Yes.”

Yan Zimi couldn’t help but lift his chin. “I knew you were just trying to copy me.”

Pei Huan chuckled softly and suddenly wrapped an arm around Yan Zimi’s waist, pulling him closer. “You seem a bit unconvinced?”

Yan Zimi replied in an unusually high-pitched voice, “Am I?”

Pei Huan playfully pinched Yan Zimi’s cheek. “You’ve been quite cocky lately. Who’s been spoiling you?”

Yan Zimi smirked, “It’s the senior who spoils me.”

Pei Huan asked, “Which senior?”

Yan Zimi’s eyes curved with a smile. “It’s my brother who spoils me.”

That line successfully made Yan Zimi’s face get squished as Pei Huan pinched it.

Even though he acted proud, he could still be teased.

Usually, when Yan Zimi walked this path alone, he found it long—so long that sometimes he didn’t even feel like taking the three-minute school bus.

The first time he felt this path was short was when Pei Huan called him last time.

And the second time was now.

“Where’s that dark shortcut?” Pei Huan suddenly asked halfway through.

Yan Zimi stopped and pointed backward. “There.”

Just as they passed by, Pei Huan looked back and grabbed Yan Zimi. “Shall we go?”

Yan Zimi paused for a moment and quickly shook his head three times, but with a small motion. “No.”

Pei Huan smiled. “Why not?”

Yan Zimi answered in a quick succession, “It’s very dark, there are no lights, and you can’t see anything.”

Hearing this only piqued Pei Huan’s interest more. He tugged on Yan Zimi’s sweatshirt tighter. “We can use a flashlight,” he added, “I haven’t walked it before.”

It was a rather unconvincing argument, but Yan Zimi thought it over seriously. “Alright then.”

He compromised.

Young boys are always so enthusiastic about the unknown. As soon as Yan Zimi agreed, the person beside him turned and headed off.

Yan Zimi had no choice but to stride after him.

This path, let alone at night, was one Yan Zimi rarely took during the day when it wasn’t necessary. There wasn’t a proper road, just a path worn down by people, surrounded by lots of trees and grass, making it feel quite eerie.

Just as Pei Huan was about to dart into the small grove, Yan Zimi quickly called out, “Wait for me!”

Pei Huan stepped back to Yan Zimi’s side and asked, “Are you afraid of the dark?”

Yan Zimi replied, “It’s just too dark; I can’t see anything.”

Pei Huan said, “If you’re scared of the dark, just say you’re scared.”

Yan Zimi had no choice but to admit, “I am scared.”

Pei Huan chuckled and turned up the brightness on his phone’s flashlight.

Yan Zimi wanted to say that this pitch-blackness couldn’t be solved by just one flashlight.

However, he kept his mouth shut and turned on his own flashlight to follow Pei Huan.

After walking a few steps, a gust of wind blew by.

At that moment, the weather seemed less considerate; the wind blew aimlessly, creating a sound around them that resembled soft whimpering, as if a child were crying.

Yan Zimi subtly moved a step closer to Pei Huan, grabbing onto the jacket he had just put on.

The wind was fierce and relentless, continuously crying out. Yan Zimi took a deep breath, thinking that thankfully the grove wasn’t long, and it would take about two minutes to get through.

However, before he could exhale, Pei Huan suddenly asked, “Are you scared?”

Pei Huan’s voice was low and somber, reminiscent of the tone often heard in horror films, as if he were saying, “Do you hear any strange noises?”

The breath that Yan Zimi hadn’t let out escaped him in a rush.

He replied, “N-no, not at all.”

His voice, steady in tone, trembled slightly.

Pei Huan laughed.

That guy actually laughed.

“You’re really scared, aren’t you, Yan Zimi?” Pei Huan teased.

Yan Zimi wanted to muster the courage to retort, but unexpectedly, a strange noise came from not far ahead.

Dropping the act, he immediately clung to Pei Huan. “What was that?”

Pei Huan heard the noise too and quickly swung his flashlight in that direction.

Then…

Uh…

Pei Huan withdrew the flashlight, a broad smile on his face. “Sorry, just passing by. You two carry on.”

With that, he wrapped an arm around Yan Zimi’s shoulders and quickened his pace to leave.

After that, the two remained quiet for a while, until they confirmed that those two people could no longer be heard. Pei Huan finally couldn’t hold back his laughter.

He released Yan Zimi. “I didn’t realize this place had such a function.”

Yan Zimi wasn’t scared anymore. Though the flashlight only illuminated the area for a brief moment, he did catch a glimpse of what was around them.

“Something that wasn’t there during the day,” Yan Zimi said, then thought for a moment and added, “At least I didn’t notice it when I walked through before.”

Pei Huan laughed again. “You seem to be hiding something.”

Yan Zimi replied, “…I’m not.”

“Yan Zimi,” Pei Huan suddenly called his name and asked, “Have you ever been in a relationship?”

Yan Zimi answered, “No.”

Pei Huan chuckled for some reason. “Really?”

Yan Zimi retorted, “Do I look like someone who has?”

Pei Huan said, “Not really.”

Since he said “not really,” it meant he wouldn’t elaborate further.

With the topic shifting in this direction, Yan Zimi decided to ask, “What about you? Have you been in a relationship?”

Yan Zimi thought this was a pretty ordinary question, and Pei Huan could simply say yes or no.

But for some reason, Yan Zimi suddenly felt very nervous.

Soon, Pei Huan said, “No.”

That breath of relief nearly escaped Yan Zimi’s lips, nearly making him give himself away.

Feeling a bit impulsive, he wanted to ask Pei Huan if he wanted to be in a relationship.

It was a question that Pei Huan could answer with either “yes” or “no,” and both would be a perfectly normal response.

However, Yan Zimi felt that if Pei Huan said “no,” it would be a bit unrealistic, and he didn’t really want him to say “yes” either.

Caught in this hesitation, he ultimately decided not to ask.

Unexpectedly, Pei Huan asked instead.

“Do you want to be in a relationship?”

Yan Zimi was taken aback for quite a while.

Pei Huan smiled. “Is this question that hard?”

Yan Zimi shook his head. “No.”

Pei Huan continued, “So you don’t want to?”

Yan Zimi whispered, “Not that either.”

Pei Huan chuckled. “Then it must mean you want to.”

Yan Zimi didn’t respond.

Pei Huan asked again, “So you haven’t found someone you like?”

Yan Zimi hesitated once more.

Pei Huan pressed on, “Is that not the case?”

No matter how he tried to dodge the question, Pei Huan’s inquiries were so precise that it was impossible to deflect them.

Seeing Yan Zimi hesitating again, Pei Huan turned his head, the beam of the flashlight briefly illuminating Yan Zimi’s clothes.

Yan Zimi’s heart raced, mentally preparing for Pei Huan to continue probing. But instead, Pei Huan said, “Looks like we’ve arrived.”

He glanced ahead and asked, “Is this your neighborhood?”

That question was easy to answer, and Yan Zimi nodded. “Yeah.”

Pei Huan remarked, “That was quick.”

Yan Zimi felt grateful that Pei Huan wasn’t overly nosy; otherwise, he might have just collapsed from embarrassment in the little woods. What could have turned into a scandalous topic faded away without any drama.

As they chatted, the atmosphere became less intimidating, and the earlier scare was quickly forgotten, especially after that amusing encounter. Once they emerged from the thicket, Yan Zimi turned off his flashlight but noticed that Pei Huan’s light was still on.

He reminded him, “Your phone.”

Pei Huan looked confused. “What?”

Yan Zimi pointed at the strong light source in Pei Huan’s hand. “Your flashlight.”

Pei Huan looked down, realizing he had left the flashlight on, and promptly turned it off.

As they exited, the side entrance of Yan Zimi’s neighborhood came into view. Just a few steps from the entrance would lead them to Yan Zimi’s building. Reaching a fork in the path, Yan Zimi turned towards the side door, but to his surprise, Pei Huan continued walking straight ahead.

“Pei Huan!”

Yan Zimi called out, gesturing towards the door just ten meters away. “This way!”

Pei Huan followed Yan Zimi’s hand and seemed to notice the door for the first time, taking a few steps back towards it.

Yan Zimi teased, “Didn’t see it?”

Pei Huan shrugged. “What?”

“The door! It’s so obvious.”

Pei Huan chuckled, “Wasn’t paying attention.”

Yan Zimi smiled, amused. “What were you thinking about?”

Pei Huan hadn’t answered yet when his phone chimed with a WeChat notification. He glanced at it and set it aside, turning to Yan Zimi. “They’re checking dorms tonight.”

Yan Zimi checked the time. “We still have time.” He added, “How about I give you that painting you wanted before you leave?”

“Did you finish it?” Pei Huan asked, his interest piqued.

“Yeah, it’s done.”

As they entered the elevator, Pei Huan suddenly remarked, “Walking alone can be quite scary.”

Yan Zimi paused, realizing Pei Huan was referring to the little forest. He chuckled, wanting to respond defiantly, but Pei Huan continued, “Especially for someone who’s a bit timid.”

Yan Zimi feigned ignorance, “Who are you talking about?”

Pei Huan played along, pretending not to understand Yan Zimi’s act. “Who are you talking about?”

“I have no idea.” Yan Zimi crossed his arms, maintaining the charade.

Pei Huan couldn’t help but smile at Yan Zimi’s playful stubbornness. “Right. Completely clueless.”

Pei Huan chuckled, adding, “I don’t know; there must be someone like that, right? What do you think, Yan Zimi?”

Yan Zimi struggled to hold back his laughter, keeping up the act. “No idea, no idea at all.”

He led Pei Huan upstairs, bringing him to the familiar spot in the living room where the four paintings used to hang—soon to be reduced to just two. Yan Zimi picked up his painting and handed it to Pei Huan. Even without much knowledge of art, Pei Huan immediately recognized the style. “It’s just like mine,” he noted.

Yan Zimi nodded. “Yeah,” he replied, explaining, “I wasn’t sure how to paint it.”

Pei Huan teased him, “Oh come on, Yan Zimi, being modest about it? You can’t say you don’t know how to paint when it looks like this.”

Yan Zimi smiled, his confidence boosted by Pei Huan’s compliment.

The painting depicted him wearing glasses, set on a rainy evening with him standing at the door of the studio, unable to go back. But he had also sneakily included Pei Huan riding his motorcycle in the background, hidden away from view.

The style of that painting complemented the previous one even more, almost like a couple’s profile picture. Though, it was a secret couple’s profile picture—one meant to be kept hidden from the world.

“I’ll give you a bag,” Yan Zimi said, “so no one can accuse us of being too flashy.”

As he turned to head back, Pei Huan stopped him, saying, “No need! Just take it like this. Let everyone see how handsome our great artist Yan Zimi is.”

Yan Zimi shook off Pei Huan’s hand. “Not a chance!”

While Yan Zimi went to grab a bag, Pei Huan lifted the painting high. He didn’t look at the artwork itself; his gaze was solely on Yan Zimi.

He knew exactly which day the painting depicted—after all, that day, Yan Zimi hadn’t been wearing his glasses. The memory of that moment lingered, infused with a mixture of nostalgia and warmth, making Pei Huan appreciate the piece even more.

But it didn’t matter; this mistake was acceptable.

In the painting, Yan Zimi was gazing in Pei Huan’s direction, the rain creating a hazy veil that blurred everything around.

As Pei Huan looked closer, he instinctively reached out, using his fingers to push apart the edges of the painting, just like he would with Yan Zimi’s hair.

When he felt the texture beneath his fingertips, he realized this wasn’t his phone.

A self-deprecating smile crept onto his face as he glanced up, his first reaction being relief that Yan Zimi hadn’t seen him. If he had, Yan Zimi would definitely tease him for it.

It was indeed quite funny.