A dreamless night, and Lu Yin Zhen woke up to find the bed beside him empty.

Song Mianfeng, rarely seen, had risen earlier than him. The thought crossed Lu Yin Zhen’s mind that Song Mianfeng might know it was his birthday today, but then he realized no one had mentioned it to Song Mianfeng, nor had he himself. How could Song Mianfeng know? He felt he was overthinking it. He couldn’t quite describe his mood, just got up as usual, changed clothes, and went to the bathroom to freshen up.

For many years, he hadn’t celebrated his birthday because it was too close to his mother’s death anniversary. His grandparents were grieving, and he didn’t want to celebrate. They would just gather for a meal every ten full years.

This year was probably going to be the same.

After washing his face with hot water, Lu Yin Zhen casually hung the towel on the side, squeezed some shaving cream onto his hand, and slowly spread it over the faint stubble on his chin.

Footsteps approached from the room, leisurely circling around the partition, and stopped at the bathroom door.

Lu Yin Zhen didn’t turn around, just smiled at Song Mianfeng leaning against the door in the mirror. “Good morning, Mr. Song.”

The handsome man’s features were partially obscured by a ring of white foam, making his smile appear excessively tender.

Song Mianfeng also smiled. “Good morning.”

After shaving, and wiping his face again with a warm towel, Song Mianfeng approached, pretending to be mysterious. “I have something for you.”

He held a delicately wrapped small gift box behind his back, out of Lu Yin Zhen’s view, who didn’t catch on. “What is it?”

“Close your eyes first.”

Lu Yin Zhen didn’t think much about the birthday gift. It was a trick Song Mianfeng had played before, asking him to close his eyes or suddenly covering them, saying he had something for him.

The first time, he thought Song Mianfeng was going to give him a gift, but ended up with a kiss. Although it was somewhat baffling, it could be considered a gift. He just found Song Mianfeng’s serious and mysterious tone a bit disconcerting. The second time, he had a hunch but still hoped for something else, but ended up with Song Mianfeng feeding him a piece of candy and asking him to guess the flavor. The third time, the fourth time… he didn’t know how many times it had been, but he was already quite accustomed to these little playful moments between them. So, he obediently closed his eyes and quietly waited for a kiss or something else.

But deep down, there was still a faint anticipation.

Seeing him cooperate like this, Song Mianfeng curved his lips, took out the translucent and shiny longevity lock from the box, and wrapped his arm around Lu Yin Zhen’s front, gently fastening the black cord’s clasp.

Something was tied around his neck, resting on his chest. Lu Yin Zhen resisted the urge to open his eyes and asked, “Is it done?”

Song Mianfeng looked past his shoulder into the mirror, satisfied with the jade pendant. “Yes.”

Lu Yin Zhen’s eyelashes fluttered slightly as he opened his eyes.

The longevity lock hanging on his chest was almost identical to the one he had given Song Mianfeng, except it was transparent and crystal-clear, with faint iridescence swirling within, clear and beautiful, an extremely rare glassy type of jade.

“Happy birthday,” Song Mianfeng leaned over to kiss him, softly calling him, “My Mr. Lu.”

He rarely used such sweet and soft tones to address him. A twenty-eight-year-old man, sounding a bit flirtatious when softening his voice with a hint of accent, even Song Mianfeng couldn’t resist it.

It was embarrassing.

Lu Yin Zhen couldn’t resist it either.

But the words were too sweet, incredibly enticing.

As if bewitched, Lu Yin Zhen lowered his head to kiss him. It started gently, just softly brushing lips, but soon their lips and tongues intertwined, greedily seeking each other.

“Call me one more time,” Lu Yin Zhen whispered softly to him, adding “baby” in his mind, unable to say it out loud, but repeating, “Call me one more time.”

Song Mianfeng was a bit breathless from the kiss, but mischievously leaned towards his ear and chuckled softly, calling him “My Mr Lu” as he wished.

Lu Yin Zhen was moved, the curve of his Adam’s apple rolling up and down was incredibly seductive.

But Song Mianfeng didn’t let him kiss him again. He turned his head away, half-pushing and half-pulling him from the bathroom.

And pulled him away from the simmering desire burning within them.

On the desk in the room, there were bowls and chopsticks, a small bowl of noodles still emitting steam, probably because they had been fooling around in the bathroom for too long, the noodles looked a bit clumped, lacking in presentation.

Song Mianfeng pushed him to sit at the table, handing him the chopsticks. “Longevity noodles. I was busy this morning, so eat while it’s hot, or it’ll get cold.”

Lu Yin Zhen was a little dazed, only now realizing that Song Mianfeng had deliberately gotten up early to cook him a bowl of longevity noodles.

How could it get cold?

He thought, warmed by a heart wrapped in affection, this bowl was still hot.

The noodles twisted and turned around the bowl, not much, but he ate them all in one go without biting. When he put them in his mouth, he couldn’t taste much, but he felt like this was probably the best thing he had ever eaten in his life.

Without asking him if it was good, after he finished eating, Song Mianfeng produced an egg from somewhere and said, “Give me your hand.”

Lu Yin Zhen obediently extended his hand.

Song Mianfeng rolled the egg around his wrist in his palm and softly said, “To rid illness and disaster, for a long and happy life.”

Lu Yin Zhen’s eyes drooped slightly, showing some curiosity and confusion. “What is this for?”

“It’s a custom from where I’m from.” Song Mianfeng tapped the table and deftly peeled an egg, then fed it to Lu Yin Zhen from his own hand, almost as if he were celebrating a child’s birthday. “On birthdays, we eat eggs and longevity noodles. The idea behind rolling the egg is that if it rolls smoothly like an egg this year, it means the year will pass smoothly without illness or disasters, everything will go smoothly and peacefully.”

The boiled egg was a bit dry to eat, and after swallowing, Lu Yin Zhen took a sip of the noodle soup and couldn’t help but glance at the small table on the windowsill.

There were two gift boxes on the small table, one red and one black, looking very contrasting.

“What are those?”

“Gifts.” Song Mianfeng put away the bowl and chopsticks. “You can unwrap them yourself, or wait for me to come back and open them with you.”

After saying that, Song Mianfeng left with the bowl and chopsticks, leaving Lu Yin Zhen alone in the room.

Lu Yin Zhen sat down by the windowsill, curious about what else Song Mianfeng had prepared.

Maybe it was a box of roses? Or perhaps a box of candies, but the box seemed a bit too big, maybe it contained many small boxes of candies. Or it could be a photography album; the second time they met, Song Mianfeng said he wanted to give him one, although later Lu Yin Zhen bought several himself and kept them in the drawer in his study…

Putting away the utensils in the kitchen downstairs, Song Mianfeng returned to the room and saw Lu Yin Zhen sitting on the cushion spread on the windowsill, staring attentively at the gift box in front of him. He even picked it up and shook it lightly, as if trying to guess what was inside by the sound.

Unable to resist, Song Mianfeng chuckled softly.

“It’s a gift from Fu Qingshan and the others.” Song Mianfeng walked over, sat down beside Lu Yin Zhen, and said, “The black box contains gifts I received on my birthday. They all gave me couple-themed gifts, but I haven’t found a suitable opportunity to give them to you.”

He added, “As for what’s in the red box, I have no idea.”

Lu Yin Zhen had almost never received birthday gifts from his peers. He hesitated for a moment before slowly untying the ribbon and opening the gift.

Inside the red box was a book, to be precise, a custom-made photography album.

On the cover was a hand-painted rose, beneath which two people were embracing, the scene incredibly romantic.

Seeing the cover, Song Mianfeng was also taken aback, then smiled. “This looks like us.”

The man in the gray hoodie had a tiny mole at the corner of his eye, while the man in the white shirt was slightly taller, leaning down to kiss. Although only their profiles were visible, the features also bore some resemblance to Lu Yin Zhen.

Lu Yin Zhen reached out to touch the two little figures under the rose, a faint smile in his eyes.

Turning to the first page, a man with a camera in one hand stood in front of a withered tree with new branches and buds, the background an old dilapidated house ruin. In the lower right corner of the photo were the words “Bai Mu Ancient Mansion,” and the person in the photo was naturally Song Mianfeng.

Flipping through, all the photos were of Song Mianfeng. There were mountains and seas, as well as bustling crowds, but the protagonist in the photos was always holding a camera, pondering with a half-profiled face, as if searching for the best angle.

Lu Yin Zhen had never seen this side of Song Mianfeng before, or rather, he had missed that phase of Song Mianfeng’s life.

It was probably four or five years ago; at that time, Song Mianfeng had just graduated from college, his eyes filled with youthful vigor, with an air of boundless enthusiasm. Occasionally, there would be a hint of weariness or distraction in his eyes, whether from the sand in the wind or the darkness of the moonlight blocking the way. He stood amidst the bustle, yet still exuded a sense of loneliness.

On the last photo, Song Mianfeng had his hands behind his back, sitting around a campfire with others. The lively background was blurred out, even the mole at the corner of his eye was obscured in the semi-light of the moon, making it difficult to discern.

Lu Yin Zhen reached out to touch the image of Song Mianfeng in the photo, his fingertips tracing his cheek, and asked softly, “Is this from the years you were shooting ‘Mianfeng Collection’?”

“Yeah…” Song Mianfeng’s eyes held a reminiscing look, as well as a gentle smile. “Some of them were probably taken by Wang Letian and Wu An, and some were taken by other friends in the industry. They were eventually compiled together.”

He hadn’t expected Fu Qingshan and the others to give Lu Yin Zhen such a gift, and even more unexpectedly, the usually unreliable Wang Letian had done something so touching this time.

Compiling such a photo album was not an easy task.

During that period when he had just set out, his emotions were very unstable, and he almost completely rejected the camera. Sometimes, when it was inevitable to take group photos, he would only stand in the corner. So most of these photos were either candid shots or taken by fellow photographers inadvertently. Later, as he gradually improved, he could also serve as a human focal point and leave behind some photos.

During those three years, they had taken many photos, none of which had been deliberately organized. Even he himself didn’t know what he looked like in those three years, captured by the camera.

“I really like this gift.” Lu Yin Zhen carefully closed the album, let out a long sigh of relief, and said, “I really like it.”

This gift, spanning mountains and seas, traversing time and space, brought the Song Mianfeng of those three years to him.

There couldn’t be a better gift.