In fact, over the past few years, because of the cooperation between Art Bank and An Yi, Yan Chen had many opportunities to obtain An Yi’s contact information.

But he never did.

First, he was afraid of arousing An Yi’s resentment, and second, he was afraid he couldn’t control himself. Once he got close, he couldn’t help but want more.

He felt like a person wandering in the desert chasing after a mirage, running out of food, exhausted, barely surviving on sheer determination. And now, this string of numbers that suddenly fell was like manna from heaven; he couldn’t resist its temptation.

Just one call, it should be okay, right?

As long as he didn’t speak, pretended to have dialed the wrong number, it should… be fine.

Yan Chen dialed the number, his fingertips trembling uncontrollably.

As the line connected, he subconsciously held his breath.

Beep, beep, beep, the elongated tone echoed in his ears, vibrating his chest. After a few seconds, a gentle “Hello” sounded in his ear like a spring breeze. Yan Chen instantly lowered his head, half of his face buried in his arms.

An Yi didn’t hear a response, so he said “Hello” again.

Yan Chen buried his head even lower, his back arching high like a crumbling mountain.

There was no more speech from An Yi’s end, but he didn’t hang up either.

Silence seeped into the airwaves, mingling with the night wind and the waves, causing a surge of hidden currents.

Yan Chen clenched his phone tightly, the palm of his hand and fingertips deeply indented by the edge of the phone case. He leaned against the rail, and after a long time, he heard An Yi say, “Happy birthday.”

He was briefly stunned, forgetting to breathe for a moment.

But before he could confirm anything, the abrupt sound of the call being cut off didn’t give him any chance to respond. That sudden “happy birthday,” simple and casual, was swept away by the sea breeze as if it had never been spoken.

Yan Chen leaned against the mast.

Amidst the rolling waves of the sea, outside the dazzling lights of the yacht, he searched the internet on his phone: Does the side effect of painkillers include hallucinations?

He scrolled through page after page of answers, straining his eyes until they felt sore and painful.

On his thirtieth birthday, he received An Yi’s blessing. In order not to let this “happy birthday” go to waste, he tried to make himself better.

He tried to quit drugs, he regulated his emotions through work and exercise.

He became much healthier, at least on the surface.

More than three months later, on An Ya’s memorial day, Xichuan welcomed its first snowfall of winter. Perhaps because the first snowfall was delayed longer than usual, this snow seemed like a long-planned display, determined to bring the entire city to a standstill when it appeared.

Due to the snow accumulation making roads slippery, flights were canceled at the airport, buses stopped running, and the city’s roads were congested with private cars going every which way.

Yan Chen deliberately took the outer loop route, driving several tens of kilometers more to reach the cemetery.

As usual, he personally picked a colorful bouquet of chrysanthemums and placed it in front of An Ya’s tombstone, intermittently recounting the events of the past year to her.

“Your gaming account has reached its peak under my control. No more dragging by rookies as teammates.”

“That actor you used to like won Best Actor last year, good taste.”

“…Your brother, he wished me a happy birthday this year,” Yan Chen brushed off the fallen snow from the tombstone, “It’s been five years, and he still remembers my number… he’s really one of a kind.”

“Do you think, is there still a chance between him and me?”

This question, Yan Chen would ask at An Ya’s grave every year, and he didn’t know how many more times he would ask it in the future.

He waited quietly for a moment. When he was about to leave, he turned around and saw An Yi standing on the steps just two steps away, holding a bouquet of colorful chrysanthemums in his arms as well.

There was a thin layer of snow on his hair and shoulders, indicating that he had been standing there for some time.

Yan Chen’s heart pounded like a drum. He wanted to approach but felt hesitant, so he could only stand in place, trying to keep his voice calm, “I came to see Xiao Ya.”

“Mm,” An Yi walked over and bent down to place the flowers beside the other bouquet of chrysanthemums in front of the tombstone.

Yan Chen’s gaze followed as An Yi approached and then lowered. He saw the white frost on An Yi’s eyelashes condensing into droplets due to the warmth of his skin, wetting his dense eyelashes.

It looked like he was crying.

But An Yi’s voice sounded very calm; he no longer cried in front of the tombstone.

“It’s snowing heavily in Xichuan today, delayed me a bit on the road. Are you angry?”

“I’ve been busy this year and haven’t visited you many times. I plan to move back to our old house after the new year. Although you left there when you were very young and probably don’t have any memories of it, it’s still closer to you, so I can visit you often.”

“So cold…”

An Yi stood up and gently patted the tombstone, “I’ll come to see you on New Year’s Eve.”

After speaking, he turned to look at Yan Chen.

“Thank you for coming to see her.”

“…It’s what I should do,” Yan Chen’s hands under his sleeves trembled, and he explained, “I come every year.”

He didn’t want An Yi to misunderstand and think he was deliberately lurking.

“Mm,” An Yi buried his chin in his scarf and said softly, “I know.”

Yan Chen saw snowflakes spinning down into An Yi’s hair. He cleared his throat and asked knowingly, “With such heavy snow, are the buses not running?”

An Yi’s hands were in his pockets, and he replied softly, “Mm.”

Yan Chen stared at his lowered brows and eyes, tentatively suggesting, “Let me take you home.”

When he asked, he was mentally prepared to be rejected, but after a brief moment, he heard An Yi say, “Thank you.”

An Yi walked down the steps.

The snow under his feet made a squeaking sound, a bit slippery. He walked very slowly. Yan Chen also walked slowly, always one step behind him on the stairs, the two of them quietly walking towards the entrance of the cemetery.

The last step was partly buried in snow. An Yi didn’t notice and stepped on it, his body tilting to the side.

His arm was immediately supported, and his back leaned against a sturdy, powerful chest.

“Are you okay?” Yan Chen’s other hand reached around to the front of An Yi, straightening him up and enveloping him in his arms.

He lowered his head to look at An Yi’s feet, “Did you sprain it?”

When Yan Chen lowered his head, his hair brushed against An Yi’s cheek.

An Yi didn’t dodge; he quietly watched Yan Chen’s profile, which was close at hand, and smelled the faint scent of lime lingering in Yan Chen’s hair—it was the shampoo he used to use before, and the brand Yan Chen often used was rosemary.

Yan Chen lifted his eyelids, wanting to ask if his feet hurt, but in the moment when An Yi’s eyes met his, Yan Chen forgot everything he wanted to say.

Even the innermost desires were forgotten, left unfiltered.

An Yi was warmed by the temperature of his gaze, with snowwater sliding from the tips of his eyelashes.

He blinked, burying half of his face in the scarf, “I’m fine, let’s go.”

Yan Chen let go of him and continued to walk beside him. However, this time, the distance between them was a bit closer.

The cemetery was an outdoor parking lot, and a thin layer of white snow had fallen on the windshields of cars. Yan Chen turned on the heater in the car and said to An Yi, “It’ll warm up soon.”

An Yi nodded. He fastened his seatbelt and noticed a medicine box placed next to the center console.

“You said your stomachache was better now, right?”

“It’s better, it’s from before.” Yan Chen remained composed, tossing the medicine box into the center console. He slowly pressed the accelerator and asked, “Are we going back to Fengjia Garden?”

“Yeah,” An Yi looked out the window, “Let’s take Maple Road, there’s less traffic there.”

“Okay.”

Yan Chen drove out of the parking lot. The SUV’s large tires had excellent traction, and the car moved steadily forward.

He drove slowly. When he glanced in the rearview mirror while turning, his gaze lingered briefly on An Yi’s face. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel and said, “I heard you say you’re planning to move back after the New Year.”

An Yi withdrew his gaze, his fingers hooking the seatbelt under the scarf. “It’s closer to home, and it’s convenient for studying.”

“Studying?”

“I passed the further-study exam at Xichuan University. Now I’m majoring in art education and ceramic art design at the Continuing Education College.”

Yan Chen sincerely felt happy for him. “Zhang Ming said he wants to organize a solo exhibition for you next year. Did he tell you?”

An Yi nodded, “It doesn’t conflict, I can make artwork in my spare time, and my master also supports me in studying more.” Only with enough ink in one’s belly could one go far.

“That’s really great,” Yan Chen said, in every sense of the word.

The car entered Maple Road, and Yan Chen pulled over.

“Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

He got out of the car, and An Yi watched him briskly cross the street with long strides and disappear from view.

An Yi hooked his seatbelt and began to stare at the gold cat figurine placed on the center console of the car.

This should be the cat figurine he returned to Yan Chen before. Each whisker was distinct, the eyes wide open, with a majestic yet adorable look.

He reached out and tapped the nose of the cat figurine. As he looked outside the car again, he soon saw Yan Chen returning with two cups of hot drinks, crossing the street and opening the car door.

“This one’s for you, to warm your hands.” Yan Chen handed him a cup of coffee, “It’s with sugar and milk, be careful, it’s hot.”

“Thank you.”

An Yi took it, and the temperature of the coffee cup was just right.

Yan Chen leaned over to fasten his seatbelt, and An Yi saw the snowflakes melting rapidly on his black coat.

An Yi lowered his gaze, his fingertips lightly rubbing the rim of the cup. As he was lost in thought, a champagne rosebud appeared in his field of vision.

He was stunned and looked at the person in the driver’s seat.

Yan Chen changed lanes with the turn signal, and the SUV slowly entered the main road again.

“There happened to be a kid selling flowers on the street just now,” Yan Chen focused on driving ahead, “Consider it a gift to congratulate you on going to college.”

Afraid that buying a large bouquet would seem too formal, he could only carefully choose to pluck the most beautiful flower bud, fabricate a clumsy excuse, and pretend to casually place it in An Yi’s arms.

Little did he know that all his cautiousness was observed by An Yi.

An Yi placed the flower bud in front of him and took a sniff. The fragrance was sweet, and as the warm air in the car wafted over it, it comforted his heart.

“Thank you, I really like it,” An Yi said.

Yan Chen loosened his grip on the steering wheel. After a moment, he said, “I’m glad you do.”

The snow fell heavier and heavier. In the short distance back to Fengjia, several cars rear-ended each other at intersections due to improper braking, causing a chain reaction.

When Yan Chen’s car reached its destination, it took almost forty minutes longer than usual.

An Yi quietly finished his cup of hot coffee.

Yan Chen helped him unfasten his seatbelt, wanting to say something to prolong their time together, but An Yi had already grabbed the flowers and gotten out of the car.

Yan Chen lowered the car window, taking a deep breath, mentally preparing himself to once again watch An Yi walk out of his sight.

But this time, An Yi took two steps, then turned back and waved the rose in his hand at Yan Chen.

Yan Chen heard An Yi say to him, “The road is slippery, be safe.”

This time, Yan Chen was sure.

It wasn’t a hallucination.

But because of these six words, he began to uncontrollably imagine countless possibilities with An Yi, even though he knew that doing so was just self-deception.