An Yi walked ahead quickly.

His shoes crunched in the snow, making a crisp sound.

“An Yi…” Yan Chen called from behind, “Wait for me, slow down.”

An Yi ignored him, forcefully opening the door to the next room, almost catching Yan Chen in the door. He chased after An Yi to the staircase, but An Yi stood on the two steps, glaring coldly at him, “Don’t come up.”

Yan Chen stopped in his tracks, looking up at him.

An Yi, like a hedgehog, raised his guard, “How many times do I have to say it for you to stop bothering me?!”

“I,” Yan Chen’s throat seemed to be choked, “I came today to invite Mr. Xie to come out of retirement.”

“Then, now that you’ve finished your business, hurry up and leave,” An Yi pointed outside sharply, “There are plenty of hotels out there. My place doesn’t have room for you, the big Buddha.”

Yan Chen choked up, tears shimmering in his pitch-black eyes.

The two stared at each other, one above and one below, in a standoff. After a moment, Yan Chen said hoarsely, “I’ll leave when it’s light and the snow stops.”

An Yi stepped up two more steps, then stopped.

Taking a deep breath, he looked back at the lonely figure at the staircase, “Don’t come upstairs.” As if the words were not piercing enough, he added, “If Nancang finds out, he won’t be happy.”

Sure enough, as soon as these words were spoken, Yan Chen’s face turned pale.

An Yi’s heart tingled with sourness.

He didn’t look at him again, turning around and running upstairs, quickly entering the bedroom and closing the door.

Leaning against the door panel, An Yi sighed deeply.

He understood Xie Fei Nian’s intentions very well. In the world of social relationships, asking him to lend a hand to Yan Chen was simply a favor. Yan Chen had established the Art Bank, and behind him were resources and connections that could easily support him. But what An Yi least wanted was to have any relationship with this man again.

He covered his face, slowly sitting down, regretting filling out that sponsorship application.

It turned out that Yan Chen had been doing this for a year, no wonder Qin Muye always said he was busy.

When filling out the sponsorship application, he should have checked carefully. Was it too late to withdraw now? Would his grandfather be disappointed in him? How should he explain to the old man about his unbearable five years with Yan Chen?

The furry fat Orange cat rubbed against his leg, acting spoiled, and An Yi put down his hands, holding it in his arms.

Quiqui “meowed” softly, resting on his shoulder and licking An Yi’s hair.

An Yi’s mood calmed down a bit, but he couldn’t fall asleep no matter how he lay on the bed.

It had been too long since he last had insomnia, and he couldn’t help feeling restless. He sat up suddenly at two in the morning, barefoot and tiptoed down the stairs.

Standing at the corner of the staircase, he could see the living room on the first floor. The snow outside reflected light into the room, casting a long shadow on the figure sitting quietly on the sofa.

Yan Chen had a cigarette in his mouth, unlit, and was staring out at the snow in the yard, lost in thought.

An Yi didn’t know what he was thinking.

After a moment, Yan Chen withdrew his gaze, opened his phone, and silently browsed through the photo album. Inside were snapshots and videos of An Yi’s life over the past year, every moment and detail.

He knew his voyeuristic behavior was dark and perverted, but compared to losing An Yi, he would rather be a morally corrupt, unscrupulous lunatic.

The faint glow emitted by the mobile phone screen illuminated the dark flow surging in Yan Chen’s eyes. He reached out to grab the cigarette, vigorously rubbing his face with the palm of his hand.

A suppressed sigh escaped through his fingers.

It felt terrible.

Since the day An Yi left him last spring, he had been like someone afflicted with a serious illness. Initially, it was the torment of anger and jealousy burning inside him. But once the fever subsided, he found himself enveloped in a long and intricate pain, one that refused to heal. Every stupid word he had said, every foolish thing he had done, now haunted him like a series of lashes to the chest.

He could hardly bear it anymore.

Yan Chen took a deep breath and looked up at the stairs.

He caught a glimpse of a passing shadow at the corner of the staircase, and he froze, sitting in the darkness for a long time without regaining his senses.

It wasn’t until dawn was approaching that he finally curled up on the sofa and fell asleep.

When An Yi went next door to make breakfast for the old man, Yan Chen heard footsteps but didn’t open his eyes. He felt An Yi look at him for a moment as he passed through the living room, but in the end, An Yi didn’t wake him.

Yan Chen shifted his position, turning towards the back of the sofa, and pulled the coat covering his head.

The heavy snow had fallen intermittently all night, and there was no sign of it stopping the next morning.

Yan Chen slept until nearly noon, feeling sore all over, dizzy, and his stomach painfully empty.

The water pipes in the yard were frozen, so he went to the first-floor kitchen to freshen up a bit before going next door to the Xie family’s house to find An Yi.

As soon as he reached the door, he heard laughter. Peering through the fence into the yard, he saw Xie Nancang and An Yi building a snowman in the front yard. Quiqui, covered in snow, romped around in the snow, shaking off the snow on its body and then shaking it onto Xie Nancang.

An Yi wore gloves, and his scarf came undone while chasing the cat.

Xie Nancang reached out and pulled him into his arms, and An Yi obediently stood still, letting Xie Nancang help him wrap the scarf around him.

The two of them smiled at each other, the scene both heartwarming and piercing to Yan Chen’s eyes.

He stood outside the door, unable to move his feet.

He envied the snowman in the yard.

“Xiao Yan, what are you standing there for?”

Grandpa Xie returned with a bottle of soy sauce, inviting Yan Chen into the house. “The snow is too heavy. I heard the highway is closed.”

Xie Nancang glanced at Yan Chen, then said nonchalantly, “You’ve come at an opportune time, Mr. Yan.”

Yan Chen sighed deeply. “You too.”

“Not at all,” Xie Nancang said indifferently. “I heard you were here from An An’s video call last night and deliberately came back early this morning.”

Not understanding the grievances between the two young men, Xie Fei Nian handed the soy sauce bottle to An Yi. “Stop standing around. It’s cold outside. Let’s go inside and talk.”

Yan Chen lifted his foot, but Xie Nancang blocked his path, and the two locked eyes, their gazes igniting like a flame.

An Yi quickly grabbed Xie Nancang’s arm and whispered, “Let’s go inside.”

Yan Chen’s gaze fell, staring at An Yi’s hand. His eyes were red.

Xie Nancang softened his hostility and, with An Yi, walked into the living room.

Yan Chen’s stomach throbbed with pain. His face was pale. Xie Fei Nian asked if he had not rested well, and Yan Chen looked deeply at An Yi on his left, saying, “I had a pleasant conversation with An Yi and slept a little late.”

An Yi raised his eyebrows, got up, and said, “I’ll go to the kitchen to help.” Then he walked away.

The four of them had lunch together. An Yi didn’t want to sit opposite Yan Chen or next to him. But with Xie Fei Nian there, he couldn’t just leave, so he kept his head down and ate quietly.

Xie Nancang picked up food for him, gently urging him to eat slowly. Then he looked across at Yan Chen and said, “When does Mr. Yan plan to return to Jin Hai?”

Yan Chen glanced at him and said, “I’ll leave when the highway reopens.”

“Oh,” Xie Nancang continued, “then after lunch, I’ll help you find a hotel. My house is small, and you probably aren’t used to it.”

Yan Chen withdrew his gaze, saying calmly, “No need. An Yi has taken good care of me.”

There was a soft click as the chopsticks fell from An Yi’s hand to the ground.

As he bent down to pick them up, a long and powerful hand landed next to him. An Yi looked up, and unexpectedly, under the table, met Yan Chen’s dark eyes.

His heart skipped a beat.

Yan Chen helped him pick up the chopsticks, and under the table, his powerful thigh brushed gently against An Yi’s knee.

An Yi stood up abruptly, causing the legs of the chair to scrape sharply against the floor.

The other three all looked at him.

His face was tense, feeling a discomfort in his chest where the food he had eaten seemed to be stuck. He walked into the kitchen, holding the chopsticks, and the cold water flowing from the tap made his fingertips ache.

Finally, he threw the chopsticks into the trash.

Yan Chen felt somewhat comfortable after dinner. He took out his phone and showed Xie Fei Nian a photo of a plum vase sent by his eldest brother last night. It was an early work of Xie Fei Nian’s, which had been bought for a high price and collected as soon as it came out of the kiln. It was unexpected that it would end up in the hands of Yan Chengwei.

Seeing that the old work was still preserved so well, Xie Fei Nian felt both happy and nostalgic, enthusiastically recounting some interesting stories from his youth to Yan Chen.

The old man was happy to chat with Yan Chen, and Xie Nancang and An Yi didn’t want to embarrass him by leaving.

The two of them went to the yard, where the snow was still falling sporadically.

An Yi took a shovel and cleared a path in the front yard, while Xie Nancang swept the remaining snow to the sides with a broom, and then the two of them built a snowman in the backyard.

After they finished, An Yi was sweating a little. He took off his scarf and draped it over the snowman.

Xie Nancang stuck a broom in its hand, making it look a bit funny. The two of them standing against the wall couldn’t help but laugh together.

After a moment, Xie Nancang turned his head and asked An Yi, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” An Yi nodded, frowning at him. “Why did you rush back through the snow today? The road is very unsafe.”

“I originally planned to come back home for a visit these two days, nothing much,” Xie Nancang said calmly. After a moment of silence, he continued, “Do you still have feelings for him?”

An Yi lowered his eyes, fidgeting with his clothes without speaking.

Xie Nancang smiled, “If you really didn’t have feelings, you would be calm and collected, instead of jumping up when he handed you a pair of chopsticks.”

“Whether I have feelings or not doesn’t matter,” An Yi said softly. “I don’t want to have any dealings with him anymore.”

Xie Nancang didn’t comment on this. After a moment of silence, he suddenly sighed.

An Yi looked up and saw the smile at the corner of his mouth.

“What’s wrong?” An Yi asked.

“I suddenly feel a bit emotional,” Xie Nancang looked up at the snowflakes falling all around, “to be honest, I used to be a bit puzzled, or rather, unwilling to accept, but today I suddenly understand why you rejected me.”

He smiled and looked back at An Yi’s face, “We are better off as friends, as family. Love seems to be more memorable in the face of intense emotional clashes. As someone as calm as me, it seems that I’m lacking something.”

An Yi shook his head, “It’s not your fault. Emotional stability is a rare character trait.”

He said, “You will surely meet someone who will make you less calm in the future.”

Xie Nancang’s smile deepened, “Perhaps.”

When the two returned to the house after finishing their conversation, it was getting dark, and Yan Chen had already bid farewell and left.

An Yi chatted with grandpa for a while about the selection matters, hearing that he intended to withdraw, Xie Fei Nian looked puzzled, “Why don’t you want to go? Weren’t you fine yesterday?”

An Yi couldn’t bring himself to say it.

Xie Nancang had been in Jin Hai for a long time and had heard about the Art Bank. He said impartially, “There is a great opportunity with the government promoting modern art recently. If you withdraw just because of Yan Chen, it’s a bit unfortunate.”

“What’s wrong with Yan Chen?” Xie Fei Nian was still clueless, “Isn’t it that little Xiao Yan from earlier? He seemed like a good kid to me.”

“…Grandpa, please don’t interrupt,” Xie Nancang said helplessly.

An Yi smiled along.

“Then I’ll think about it some more.”

After dinner, the three of them played cards for a while, and then An Yi returned to the next room.

He hadn’t slept well last night and planned to rest early today.

However, before he could reach the door, he saw Yan Chen leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette.

An Yi wanted to ignore the man and go straight home, but Yan Chen came up to him, cigarette in mouth.

He moved left, Yan Chen moved left. He moved right, Yan Chen moved right.

“What are you doing?” An Yi frowned. The faint smell of tobacco mixed with a hint of coldness enveloped him in a domineering manner, making his heart beat faster.

Yan Chen extinguished the cigarette and looked at him intently. “You lied to me.”

An Yi’s back stiffened, immediately denying, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, let go.”

Yan Chen didn’t let go. His well-contained hostility burst out at this moment. “Tell me why you lied to me.”

“What did I lie to you about,” An Yi tried to push him away, “This makes no sense.”

“I heard what you and Xie Nancang said this afternoon,” Yan Chen suddenly grabbed his wrist, his voice trembling, “You two aren’t together, so why lie to me?”

An Yi’s eyebrows jumped, his heart also aching. He tried to shake off Yan Chen, but was forcibly pressed against the wall by him.

In an instant, Yan Chen enveloped him in the shadow, their faces close together. Yan Chen’s hot breath, strong heartbeat, and intense gaze made him dizzy.

“Let go of me!” An Yi whispered.

“Look into my eyes!” Yan Chen stared at him, “Why lie, why deceive me!”

“What does it matter who I’m with or not with,” An Yi tried to break free, “What’s wrong with you!”

“I’m crazy! I’ve been crazy for a long time!” Yan Chen pressed him harder, “who do you think all this is because of!”

An Yi stared at him with red eyes. “I told you long ago that we were done! Whatever you’re feeling now has nothing to do with me, I don’t care!”

“But I can’t let you go!”

Yan Chen’s voice was low, his hot tears falling without warning. He hugged An Yi tightly, burying his head in his neck, as if trying to absorb the scent he had missed for almost two years.

“I love you, An Yi, please don’t torture me like this, okay?”

His murmurs became increasingly blurred, tears wetting An Yi’s eyelashes and cheeks.

Who was torturing whom in the end?

He had finally emerged from the shadows of the past and found a way of life that suited him. Why did Yan Chen have to repeatedly entangle him?

Yan Chen said he loved him again.

What kind of love was it that only confessed after one party’s expectations had been worn down?

An Yi’s face was cradled in Yan Chen’s hot hands. He realized what Yan Chen wanted to do, closed his eyes, and felt the tears on his cheeks wiped away by Yan Chen’s soft lips, followed by his nose, and then his lips.

An Yi struggled to push him away, but the arm around his waist held him so tightly that it hurt.

Yan Chen kept calling his name, gently nibbling his lower lip.

An Yi’s heart felt a pang.

He hated Yan Chen, but he hated himself even more.

After so long, he was still moved by Yan Chen.

Tears suddenly began to flow uncontrollably.

Yan Chen held him tightly, and the kisses wetted by tears were softer than any previous kisses.

The body that had not been hugged for a long time changed because of the close contact.

Yan Chen noticed.

He was like a condemned criminal who had received a pardon, his dark eyes suddenly filled with vigor. Trembling and restraining himself, he kissed An Yi’s hot cheek.

“Let me go… don’t bother me in the future…”

An Yi cried as he pushed him away, his face filled with anxiety and embarrassment.

Yan Chen kept apologizing in his ear. When An Yi was finally soothed and calmed down a bit, Yan Chen kneeled down and continued his mischief in a different way.

An Yi grabbed Yan Chen’s hair in panic, the darkness covering most of his field of vision, but this only stimulated his senses even more.

Pushing back didn’t work at all.

Yan Chen’s mouth was as wet and hot as his tears, extremely lethal.

An Yi leaned against the wall absentmindedly.

The moon, hanging precariously in the sky, shattered into a vast expanse in his hazy eyes.