This orchid, ever since An Yi left, had been half-dead. It was injured when it was repotted in the spring this year, making the situation worse. Yan Chen had just returned from Snow Mountain, and the flower withered completely shortly after.

But Yan Chen still came to water it every day.

He fantasized about seeing it rejuvenated and blooming again one day.

“Why hurt yourself when you want to water the flowers?” An Yi touched Yan Chen’s burning palm and asked, “How much did you drink today?”

Yan Chen couldn’t answer.

He just kept apologizing, not only for not taking care of this orchid but for more than that.

An Yi asked him again if he could stand up by himself, but Yan Chen still didn’t answer. An Yi helped him up, but the next second, Yan Chen reached out and hugged him tightly.

“Don’t leave… Don’t leave me…”

In that moment of chest collision, An Yi forgot to breathe.

The warm breath mixed with tears on his neck soaked his heart.

He heard Yan Chen muttering his name vaguely. The hand hanging by his side curled up, and finally, he lifted it to pat the man’s broad back gently twice.

“I’m here,” An Yi’s voice was as light as a sigh, “you’re hurting me, let go first.”

Yan Chen released him.

An Yi helped him to the sofa in the living room, and as he turned around, his clothes were gently tugged.

He looked down and patted Yan Chen’s hand back, “I’ll get the first aid kit.”

Only then did Yan Chen let go of his hand again, his gaze fixed on An Yi until he came back with the first aid kit and sat down beside him.

As An Yi cleaned his wounds, he couldn’t help but glance at the old scar on Yan Chen’s wrist, which was rough and hideous. It felt like there was a stone pressing on his chest, making it hard for him to breathe.

“Was this also because of watering the flowers?” he asked.

Yan Chen shook his head.

After bandaging him up, An Yi asked again, “When did you get this? Was it… because of me?”

Yan Chen still didn’t speak, tightly holding onto one of An Yi’s fingers, unwilling to let go.

An Yi looked at their intertwined fingers, feeling a mix of emotions. He cleared his throat and threatened in a low voice, “If you don’t tell me, I’ll leave.”

Yan Chen tightened his grip on his fingertip, looked down at his fingernail’s moon shape for a while, then said in a low voice, “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want to hear that.”

An Yi pulled his hand back and made a move to get up, but his wrist suddenly fell into a pair of scorching palms.

Yan Chen held onto him, lifting An Yi’s sleeve with one hand and gently tracing the scars on the inside of his forearm with his thumb.

“I wanted to know how much pain you were in at that time.”

A hint of shock flashed in An Yi’s eyes, and his fingertips couldn’t help but curl slightly.

Yan Chen lowered his head, pressing his cheek against the back of An Yi’s hand, and gently rubbed it. With a heavy, choked voice, he said, “I’m sorry, truly sorry, for causing you so much pain.”

An Yi couldn’t hold back his emotions any longer, tears streaming down his face as he trembled, “So you cut your wrist to pay me back, one cut at a time?”

Yan Chen didn’t answer, just kept apologizing softly, his cool lips kissing An Yi’s arm over and over again.

An Yi raised his head, tears still wetting his face.

Yan Chen cupped An Yi’s cheeks with his hands, his fingers trembling as he pressed them against the corners of An Yi’s lips, saying, “Don’t cry… I promise I won’t let you cry again.”

An Yi’s throat tightened, unable to utter a word.

He held onto both of the Yan Chen’s wrists, closed his eyes, and tears continued to fall uncontrollably.

Yan Chen’s palms began to tremble.

He looked at An Yi with teary eyes, leaning in as if to kiss away the tears on An Yi’s face. But when he was inches away, he restrained himself, bowing his head instead and pressing his forehead against An Yi’s shoulder.

“It’s all my fault. I promise I’ll never contact you again. I’ll give you your freedom…”

An Yi was tightly embraced.

He couldn’t hear Yan Chen’s crying, but he could clearly sense his pain, the tremors running through his body, which in turn clenched An Yi’s heart in pain.

The walls built up over the years, the self-admonitions during countless sleepless nights, all lost their effectiveness at this moment. He couldn’t remain indifferent, let alone push away Yan Chen, who was on the verge of breaking down, and walk away without looking back.

Trapped between reason and emotion, his personality seemed split in two, one half warning himself not to be soft-hearted, while the other half was deeply moved by Yan Chen’s intensity. The feeling was too unbearable.

An Yi felt suffocated, unable to speak. He took a deep breath with difficulty.

“If there’s anything, let’s talk when you’re sober,” he paused, gathering the strength to finish his sentence, “and no more foolish actions in the future.”

Yan Chen murmured an “okay”, still insisting on giving An Yi his freedom, but unwilling to let go of his hand.

An Yi didn’t push him away.

Eventually, alcohol took its toll, combined with the emotional turmoil, exhausting Yan Chen. He fell asleep in An Yi’s arms.

An Yi sat cross-legged on the carpet in front of the sofa, his chin resting on his hand as he quietly watched the exhausted sleeping face of the man.

He no longer doubted Yan Chen’s love, but he couldn’t help feeling a trace of sadness in his heart.

Why is it that whether loved or being loved, both inevitably lead to pain?

If he turned back, would he betray the suffering he endured in the past? But if he moved forward, how many scars would remain on the one left behind, Yan Chen, before he could find redemption?

They had been apart for nearly five years, almost as long as they had been together. If they were to start over, how much time would it take for them to see if they were truly compatible?

An Yi pondered over these questions repeatedly.

In the end, only one remained in his mind: Would he regret not being brave one more time when he looked back on this youthful period many years later?

As dawn approached, An Yi went to the sunroom.

He threw away the withered orchid into the trash bin first, then repotted the other flowers.

When the first rays of sunlight entered this glass-walled room, the wind chimes tinkled. An Yi reached out his hand without looking and said to the person beside him, “Pass me the clay pellets, we need to put more at the bottom of the pot for better drainage.”

Yan Chen was stunned for a moment, then went to the shelf and brought over a bag of clay pellets.

After repotting the flowers, An Yi wiped the fine sweat from his forehead and asked Yan Chen, “Are you sober now?”

Yan Chen nodded. He remembered everything that happened last night clearly and didn’t know how to start the conversation.

In the end, he could only hoarsely ask, “Did you stay up all night?”

“No,” An Yi cleaned his hands. His eyes were a bit swollen from crying, and now he felt a bit sleepy. He said, “Since you’re okay, I’ll leave first.”

Yan Chen lowered his eyes.

He stood there, frozen in place with icy hands and feet.

His face was pale, and his breathing gradually became labored.

Once he left, they wouldn’t see each other again, right? He had promised last night not to disturb An Yi anymore, and he couldn’t even use the lame excuse of accidentally dialing the wrong number after drinking.

There would be no more.

“Oh, by the way,” a crisp wind chime sounded, “I threw away that pot of orchids.”

Yan Chen stiffly turned his head and saw the morning light casting a gentle golden glow on the tall figure at the door.

Over ten years ago, the young man who stood in the pouring rain venting his frustration, finally stood in the sunlight.

“We should go buy another pot together sometime.”

Yan Chen stared at An Yi in disbelief. “…Together?”

His frozen heart beat heavily and slowly.

“Yeah,” An Yi leaned against the door handle, “Can you choose one yourself?”

Yan Chen shook his head extremely slowly.

Feeling a rush of oxygen into his lungs, he still struggled to breathe properly and choked a few times, his voice trembling and sounding unfamiliar to himself, “Can I take you home now?”

This time, An Yi didn’t hesitate. He nodded. “Thank you.”

“Wait here!” Yan Chen’s eyes were red. “Let me get the car keys. Wait for me.”

As the engine started, Yan Chen felt alive again.

An Yi knew he had many questions to ask, and he himself had much to say. But after a sleepless night, his mind was a mess, and he was too tired. In such a state, he might not express himself clearly. So, as soon as he got into the car, he closed his eyes and rested, not saying much to Yan Chen.

Yan Chen gripped the steering wheel tightly and didn’t disturb him.

It wasn’t until the car entered Fengjia Garden and the gate lifted that An Yi frowned and woke up.

Yan Chen dropped him off at the door of his house.

An Yi stood on the steps of the porch, eye level with Yan Chen.

He called his name very seriously, “Yan Chen.”

Yan Chen had been hanging by a thread all along, and now his heart was high in his throat. He answered in a low voice, straightening his back.

An Yi looked him straight in the eye. “Five years ago, you said we should try dating. We tried, and as you can see, it wasn’t ideal.”

Yan Chen felt like his throat was being squeezed, and the wound on his wrist throbbed faintly.

An Yi’s mouth felt dry, and his hand, clenched under his sleeve, tightened nervously. “Looking back, it wasn’t the right time for us to start dating.”

One had just lost family, feeling disheartened; the other was rash and impulsive, possessed by possessiveness, eager to hold on.

Deciding to try being together like that, it wasn’t the beginning of a normal relationship at all.

Yan Chen didn’t understand before, but after five years, he finally understood.

He struggled to squeeze out a “mm.”

As if anticipating what An Yi would say next, Yan Chen lowered his head, trying to avoid An Yi’s earnest gaze, seeking a slim chance of survival.

But An Yi reached up and held his chin, preventing him from avoiding it.

Yan Chen was forced to meet those gentle yet firm eyes that seemed somewhat cruel.

An Yi’s palm was sweating, and his heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might burst out of his chest.

He said, “Yan Chen, how about we start over?”