For Zhou Yi, the words “Welcome home” held more weight than “I love you.” Having lived a wandering life since childhood, he longed for a place to call home more than anyone else. This seemingly simple desire was difficult to achieve, as he had no family and felt like an outsider wherever he went in the world.

On the surface, it didn’t seem like such a tragic thing, and Zhou Yi knew that many people faced worse situations than his. Yet, he never spoke of this pain. Even if he did, it would only serve to deepen the sadness of others.

Beneath his nonchalant exterior, however, the overwhelming loneliness had never been dispelled. Without fully realizing it, he had always been craving something—someone to fill the emptiness inside.

Living in a bustling city, where the sky and buildings were vast and towering, Zhou Yi often felt strangely small. The wide-open spaces, though full of potential, made him feel out of place and lost.

Though his rented apartment provided shelter from the elements and enough food to eat, there remained an undeniable sense that he had nowhere to truly belong. No matter how spacious the world seemed, it felt small and confining to him.

He often comforted himself with the thought that people couldn’t have everything and that he should learn to be content. Relieving his inner pain by comparing it to the misfortune of others had become his way of coping.

As a child, he was like drifting duckweed, unable to find solid ground. As he grew, his attempts to root himself were shattered by unexpected hardships. He thought he would continue stumbling through life, but unexpectedly, he was lifted up by Liang Xianzhang.

Now, when Liang Xianzhang called him gently, saying “Welcome home,” Zhou Yi felt for the first time that the concept of “family” was not just an abstract idea, but something tangible he could feel in his bones.

He exhaled deeply, his heart pounding wildly, his eyelashes fluttering as they rose like butterfly wings.

Before he could even speak, tears welled up and fell. Zhou Yi wasn’t one to cry often, but in front of Liang Xianzhang, he couldn’t help but let his guard down.

Liang Xianzhang gently kissed the tears from his face, his voice tinged with helplessness, “Why are you crying again? I didn’t say this to make you cry. Don’t you like me?”

“No…” Zhou Yi sobbed, “I like you too much… No one has ever said such things to me before…”

Liang Xianzhang fell silent for a moment, his heart aching for Zhou Yi. Even someone like him couldn’t change the past, but he would hold Zhou Yi close, vowing to shield him from any harm or sorrow.

He reached out, brushing the tears from Zhou Yi’s face. “In the past… were there many people who bullied you?”

Zhou Yi bit his lip, as though finding someone to confide in for the first time. “There were people who called me ungrateful, a jinx, who looked down on me… There were too many to count.”

Such people had always been part of Zhou Yi’s life. Even without direct interaction, they would find ways to step on him, belittle him, or make things difficult for him.

When talking about his past in front of Liang Xianzhang, Zhou Yi had intended to downplay it, to brush it off as insignificant. But speaking the words aloud, he realized just how much it still hurt. In front of Liang Xianzhang, the weight of his sadness, pain, and grievances became all the more real.

It was like a child who, when they fall, can stand up with little more than a scrape if no one is around. But when someone is near, they become more delicate, more fragile.

Liang Xianzhang’s hand trembled as it touched Zhou Yi’s face, and his eyes darkened with emotion. He didn’t want Zhou Yi to notice his inner turmoil, so he pulled him closer, pressing him tightly into his arms. “Don’t hide your pain. Stay by my side, and I’ll make them all shut up.”

In Liang Xianzhang’s embrace, Zhou Yi clutched his clothes tightly, and once again, tears fell uncontrollably.

But just as quickly, the scent of orange blossom brushed his lips, soothing his troubled heart.

“Don’t cry anymore,” Liang Xianzhang said softly, wiping away his tears. “Your eyes are red from crying.”

Zhou Yi sniffed and nodded, his voice muffled, “Hmm.”

“Have you eaten?” Liang Xianzhang asked.

Zhou Yi shook his head. “I haven’t had time to eat.”

Liang Xianzhang wrapped his arms around Zhou Yi’s waist and lifted him effortlessly, carrying him toward the bathroom. “I’ll run the water for you. Go take a bath first, and then I’ll make something for you to eat. I saw you liked the shrimp dumplings last time, and I’ll make those for you…”

Zhou Yi rested his face against Liang Xianzhang’s chest, listening to his gentle words. It made his heart ache with sweetness, a mix of emotions he hadn’t felt before.

Though he felt the urge to cry again, he held it back. He liked the way things were now. This moment was worth smiling for.

Suppressing the emotions welling inside him, he smiled faintly, and tightened his grip on Liang Xianzhang’s clothes.

Noticing his subtle movement, Liang Xianzhang smiled softly, feeling a deep sense of contentment.