After the street concert ended, and the onlookers dispersed, Cen Zhisen returned the accordion to the band and walked towards someone a few steps away.

Ning Zhiyuan stood in place, watching him approach, and the smiling eyes gradually fell into more scattered and delicate light.

Until that person stood in front of him, “Now, want to go on a date?”

Ning Zhiyuan saw his reflection in those eyes and heard his voice saying, “Sure.”

They embraced each other, and laughter echoed near each other’s ears.

Walking out of the square side by side, Cen Zhisen turned to the person beside him, “Why did you suddenly come here without telling me?”

“On vacation,” Ning Zhiyuan replied, completely relaxed. “And to have a date with my boyfriend.”

Using the term “boyfriend” for the first time, Cen Zhisen raised an eyebrow, “I haven’t had lunch yet, accompany me?”

“Perfect, I haven’t either.”

They sat down in a restaurant, ordered their meals, and Ning Zhiyuan picked up Cen Zhisen’s camera. Flipping through the photos he took in the morning, he found that each one was a scene he had photographed before, and couldn’t help but smile.

“Why take pictures of scenes I’ve already shot? Are you mocking me?” Ning Zhiyuan asked.

“Quite interesting,” Cen Zhisen responded, “seeing the world from your perspective, I seem to discover more novel and interesting things—a fascinating experience.”

“But there’s one picture you definitely can’t replicate,” Ning Zhiyuan said triumphantly.

Cen Zhisen didn’t believe it. Ning Zhiyuan handed him the phone, showing a picture he took on the Charles Bridge, capturing Cen Zhisen while he was taking pictures of someone else.

Cen Zhisen smiled, “Okay, this one I can’t replicate.”

While he photographed others, Ning Zhiyuan photographed him. If at that moment, Cen Zhisen turned to see Ning Zhiyuan, his lens would unquestionably turn toward him.

“Cen Zhisen,” Ning Zhiyuan took back his phone, looking at him. “Earlier, I was wrong. I came here specifically for a date with you.”

Cen Zhisen took a sip of coffee, in a particularly good mood, “I know.”

Ning Zhiyuan, “Hmm.”

They didn’t need to say more; they both understood.

After finishing lunch, they continued to wander aimlessly through the crowded streets.

Ning Zhiyuan thought of something and asked the person beside him, “Can you still play the accordion?”

“Played it for a while during college,” Cen Zhisen tilted his head. “You didn’t know?”

“Really didn’t know,” Ning Zhiyuan said.

He thought he understood Cen Zhisen well enough, but he was far from it. There were many things he didn’t know, and only now did he have the chance to see Cen Zhisen’s private side.

It was somewhat regrettable, wasting so many years.

“What are you thinking?” Cen Zhisen asked him.

Ning Zhiyuan smiled, “If I knew you could do that, I would have learned it too.”

“I can teach you if you want,” Cen Zhisen said.

“Forget it, I prefer watching you play. Cen Zhisen, the way you stand there playing the accordion is especially handsome.”

Ning Zhiyuan smiled, giving him a thumbs up. It was the third time he described Cen Zhisen this way.

—Cen Zhisen giving a speech on stage, Cen Zhisen being interviewed by reporters, and Cen Zhisen standing on the street playing the accordion. In his eyes, all of these were the most handsome.

Cen Zhisen heard the fervent and undisguised affection in his voice and raised his lips, “Hmm, let’s go somewhere else.”

They boarded the tram again, and Ning Zhiyuan held Cen Zhisen’s camera, taking pictures of the city scenery along the way.

Cen Zhisen sat beside him, his gaze focused on Ning Zhiyuan’s profile. Suddenly he asked, “Zhiyuan, have we never taken a photo together?”

Ning Zhiyuan paused, turned to look at him, thought for a moment, and said, “Not a solo one of just the two of us, no.”

It was quite absurd. Having been brothers for twenty-seven years, from childhood to adulthood, they hadn’t even taken a single photo together.

Cen Zhisen sighed, took the camera, and held one of Ning Zhiyuan’s hands. “Let’s go.”

They got off at the next station, not knowing where they were going. They entered a less crowded alley, climbed up high and low stone steps, and on both sides of the narrow alley were walls adorned with graffiti of various bright colors.

This alley was perhaps unknown, with almost no tourists, and only occasional locals passing by.

Approaching sunset, the afterglow enveloped the entire city.

In this deserted alley, under the silhouette of the setting sun, they took their first photo together.

There was no excessive intimacy, just a simple standing side by side, their postures casual. Ning Zhiyuan stood with one foot on a higher stone step, hands in his coat pockets, a smile on his lips. Cen Zhisen had one hand in his pocket, standing beside him, gently smiling as well.

The passerby who helped them take the photo came down from a higher set of steps. After thanking the person, they both looked down at the photo and were satisfied.

“I forgot to tell you,” Ning Zhiyuan said, staring at the camera in his hand. “I actually don’t like taking pictures. I always feel like the person in the photo looks fake. So when you said I envied others for having a photo album of memories, it’s not entirely true.”

Cen Zhisen: “I took pictures of you, and you didn’t object.”

“Your shots are different,” Ning Zhiyuan looked up, “all of them are quite good.”

“What about this one?” Cen Zhisen asked.

“It’s good too,” Ning Zhiyuan’s gaze unexpectedly softened in the twilight, “very good.”

Touched by his gaze, Cen Zhisen lifted his hand, pressed it on Ning Zhiyuan’s shoulder, then moved it to the nape of his neck, stopping there.

Ning Zhiyuan smiled, closing his eyes.

Cen Zhisen leaned closer and kissed him.

“Zhiyuan,” whispered Cen Zhisen as their lips met, “shall we go back to the hotel?”

“The night hasn’t fallen yet,” Ning Zhiyuan reminded him with a smile. “Let’s continue exploring.”

Cen Zhisen’s breath slightly lowered, and after a while, he cleared his throat, “Alright.”

They continued forward, exited the alley, and walked onto the bustling main street with scattered city lights twinkling.

Finding a tavern on the street, they had a couple of beers, ate something casual, and chatted—a leisurely and ordinary life for the locals.

They also sat in a small tavern on the street, drinking local beer, accompanied by grilled meat and bread, feeling content.

Ning Zhiyuan’s gaze frequently landed on Cen Zhisen’s hand adorned with a ring, always with a smile in his eyes.

Cen Zhisen brought up the plans for tomorrow, asking if he wanted to join. Ning Zhiyuan shook his head slightly, “I can’t go; I’m heading back tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Cen Zhisen exclaimed, “You came today and are leaving tomorrow, so soon?”

Ning Zhiyuan explained, “Work is busy. These two days are the weekend, so I had the time to come over.”

Originally planning for an extended holiday, he received a call from Liu Lu in the morning. Liu Lu mentioned that the head of a major fund wanted to meet with them on Monday and insisted on talking only with him. Therefore, he had to return.

“So, we only have this one night?”

“Yeah, just this one night,” Ning Zhiyuan regretfully said.

Cen Zhisen’s mood was indescribably complex, with more heartache beyond joy.

Two days of coming and going, all for the sake of this shared date with him.

He didn’t ask any more questions.

One night was enough.

Leaving the tavern, Ning Zhiyuan glanced at a nearby alley and saw a dimly lit small shop. He paused, signaling Cen Zhisen, “Let’s check that out.”

It was a tattoo shop. Upon entering, Ning Zhiyuan casually flipped through sample catalogs, looking quite interested.

Cen Zhisen asked, “Interested?”

Ning Zhiyuan didn’t express his stance, neither confirming nor denying.

Cen Zhisen recalled their previous time watching a movie together when Ning Zhiyuan pointed to his own shoulder, asking what tattoo would look good. Perhaps, he had already thought about it.

“I read a book on the flight here last night,” Ning Zhiyuan continued flipping through the catalogs, “you’ve probably read it too, written by a famous author from here.”

Cen Zhisen almost immediately guessed the book’s title, “You read these kinds of books too?”

“Killing time,” Ning Zhiyuan said slowly, “the book mentioned Plato’s theory of love. It said that humans were originally a complete being with four hands and four feet. The gods split them into two halves, and since then, these halves have roamed the world, seeking each other, giving rise to desire and love. So-called love is actually the yearning for the lost other half of oneself.”

“Quite reasonable,” Cen Zhisen agreed.

Ning Zhiyuan continued, “Indeed, it makes sense. But both the author of the book and Plato believe that the lost other half of oneself can never be found in one’s lifetime. After all, there is only one unique ‘you’ in the world, and your other half was lost when you were created. So, the regret is lifelong.”

He looked up from the catalogs, meeting Cen Zhisen’s eyes, “Doesn’t that mean that even in acknowledged love, it’s just a substitute for what was originally sought?.”

Cen Zhisen didn’t immediately refute but asked him, “What do you think?”

Ning Zhiyuan quietly looked at him and said softly, “I don’t think it’s necessarily impossible to find. At least, I’ve found it. Ge, you are my other half. Regardless of what our original relationship was supposed to be, if fate destined that I would be created, it also destined that I would meet you. You are my born-as-one, so I long for you, I long to be you. Before, I regretted that I could never become you. In reality, I don’t need to become you because you are the other half I was destined to have since birth.”

“Zhiyuan,” Cen Zhisen stared at him for a long time, “are you confessing to me?”

“Yes, I’m confessing to you,” Ning Zhiyuan said firmly. “Ge, I love you. You said you have always loved me, and I feel the same. I love you; I’ve always loved you.”

His confession wasn’t grand or dramatic. On this chilly night, in an unknown shop in a foreign alley, it sounded like an offhand and ordinary statement, yet it was more moving than any solemn ceremony.

Cen Zhisen understood; this was Ning Zhiyuan’s confession, the only one he gave to him.

They were the same, whether in the past or now, in familial or romantic love, always loving each other.

Cen Zhisen: “So now, is it love?”

Ning Zhiyuan: “Yes.”

It was love, in this moment, without any doubt.

Cen Zhisen nodded, “Zhiyuan, you really don’t need to become me. If you say I’m your other half, then likewise, you are my other half. I love you, and it’s not a substitute for anything.”

He had also read the book Ning Zhiyuan mentioned, a long time ago. Back then, he neither rejected nor yearned for love. He hadn’t encountered anyone who moved his heart, so he felt that love was optional. When reading the book, he couldn’t muster much sentiment, and the only thing he remembered was a sentence: “Love begins when our impression of someone starts to poeticize from the very moment.”

In the past, he wasn’t sure of its authenticity, but on that night in his ancestral home, as he stood by the window and saw Ning Zhiyuan sitting under the camphor tree, poetic images suddenly flashed in his mind. It was then he became certain—he had fallen in love with Ning Zhiyuan. That was love.

If one must use Plato’s theory of love to argue, perhaps from that moment, he stopped searching because he had found his destined other half.

“I know,” Ning Zhiyuan said.

He had known for a long time that Cen Zhisen’s love was never fake.

Cen Zhisen chuckled softly, “Zhiyuan, do you want to do something crazy to celebrate?”

Ning Zhiyuan was thinking the same.

After a careful discussion with the tattoo artist in the shop, they began.

Black thorns intertwined with fire roses, spreading from Cen Zhisen’s left hip to Ning Zhiyuan’s right lower back. When they embraced closely, the tattoo patterns would form a complete whole.

On Cen Zhisen’s side were stems and leaves, while on Ning Zhiyuan’s side were flowers. Roses and thorny vines entwined, enchanting and sinful, enticing and intoxicating.

By the time they left, the night had fallen.

They didn’t rush back, strolling on the cobblestone path they walked during the day. All around, lights extended in warm yellow hues, gradually outlining the vague silhouettes of buildings near and far.

The church’s bell in front rang, echoing one sound after another in their hearts.

On the square, some were kissing, some were singing, and others were quietly praying.

Everyone was immersed in their own world.

Cen Zhisen wrapped his arm around Ning Zhiyuan’s waist in a more intimate posture than during the day, not letting go.

Even through layers of fabric, Ning Zhiyuan felt the strength and warmth of the palm resting on his waist, and the skin on his side still faintly ached. Yet, from this pain, he tasted immense pleasure and satisfaction.

Both he and Cen Zhisen were inherently restless people, but they pretended to be rational and restrained. Those hidden crazinesses could only be brought out by each other.

So, they were naturally a pair.

“It’s snowing,” Cen Zhisen suddenly said.

Ning Zhiyuan looked up, and snowflakes drifted down one by one, revealing peculiar shapes in the reflected light. It was the first snowfall of the winter in this city.

Extending his hand, snowflakes fell on his fingertips. He looked down for a moment and gently rubbed his two fingers together, feeling a bit of chill.

The last time it snowed, he and Cen Zhisen drove to the lakeside on the outskirts of the city, chatted all night, then watched the sunrise together.

This time, they strolled side by side on the streets of this foreign city, and their relationship had undergone such a change.

Cen Zhisen was amused by his somewhat childish actions, leaning close to his ear and asking, “Do we go back now?”

Ning Zhiyuan withdrew his hand into his coat pocket, “Let’s go.”

Back at the hotel where he stayed, it was already past ten at night.

The elevator numbers slowly ascended, and the small space contained only the two of them.

Cen Zhisen turned to help Ning Zhiyuan brush off the snowflakes from his shoulder, asking in a low voice, “What time is your flight tomorrow?”

Ning Zhiyuan glanced at him and said, “A little after nine in the morning.”

Cen Zhisen understood the meaning in his eyes, chuckled softly, and asked, “Flying overnight to come here, and you’re flying again early tomorrow. Are you still energetic?”

“Cen Zhisen, I came here for a date with you,” Ning Zhiyuan emphasized.

“Mm,” Cen Zhisen nodded casually.

Since Ning Zhiyuan was willing, he was even more willing.

Upon entering the room, they didn’t even turn on the lights. Ning Zhiyuan eagerly approached, grabbed Cen Zhisen’s collar, and pushed him against the door, passionately kissing him.