The forest was quiet now, save for the whisper of the stream and the soft chime of water sliding over stones.
Ling Xiuyuan rose from the water first. The moonlight caught his skin, pale and still, like porcelain washed in silver. He moved with that same unhurried calm that seemed to cling to him always—calm even as the chill wind pressed against his bare shoulders.
Behind him, Shen Lianxiu splashed out of the stream in dramatic misery.
He was shivering from head to toe, his teeth clattering like loose beads. The idea of "cleansing his sinful thoughts" had seemed noble at first—until he realized the water was freezing, his clothes were soaked through, and his limbs refused to stop trembling.
Xiuyuan glanced back at him once, then sighed, a long, quiet sound of resigned patience.
Lianxiu looked pitiful: hair plastered to his forehead, sleeves dripping, nose red from the cold. Even his proud grin had wilted.
He regretted everything. Sins could wait. Warmth could not.
Xiuyuan stepped onto the bank, wringing a strand of hair from his temple, then picked up his folded outer robe. "Remove the wet robe," he said evenly, "and wear this."
Lianxiu blinked.
For a moment, Lianxiu just stood there, speechless, staring at the robe in disbelief. Then, with ears burning crimson, he muttered something that sounded like "How considerate…" and obeyed.
He hurriedly pulled off his wet outer robe and slipped into Xiuyuan's. It was warm, carrying that faint, clean scent of sandalwood and iron that was uniquely Xiuyuan's.
Lianxiu tugged the collar close to his chin, smiling like a fool. "But wait," he said after a moment, frowning with concern, "what about you, Shixiong? Won't you be cold?"
"I'm fine," Xiuyuan replied, still without looking at him. "Cold is the least that frightens me."
"But still," Lianxiu insisted, stepping closer, "reaching back without a robe—won't that be trouble? What if someone sees—"
Xiuyuan finally turned his head.
The look in his eyes stopped Lianxiu mid-sentence.
That calm, moonlit gaze—cool, steady, impossibly gentle—seemed to quiet everything around them. The night fell utterly still. Even the stream seemed to hush.
Lianxiu swallowed. His heart forgot how to beat.
He had seen Xiuyuan a thousand times before—in training courts, in libraries, under sunlight—but never like this. Bare-shouldered, half in shadow, eyes bright with starlight. Lianxiu thought, He's too beautiful to be real.
Before he even understood what he was doing, his hands moved on their own.
He caught Xiuyuan by the arm and, in a clumsy, impulsive motion, pushed him gently down onto the grass.
"Shen Lianxiu!" Xiuyuan's voice broke the silence, sharp with alarm and anger.
Lianxiu froze. His heart was thundering so loud he thought it might echo through the forest. He wasn't thinking. He wasn't even breathing. He just… looked.
At Xiuyuan's startled face beneath the moonlight, the dark hair damp against his temples, the faint rise and fall of his chest.
For one dizzy second, the world felt unreal.
"Shixiong," Lianxiu whispered softly, his voice trembling with something that wasn't fear, "if I told you right now that I like someone… how would you react?"
Xiuyuan's expression flickered—surprise, confusion, something else hidden deep. He looked away almost immediately.
"Why would I react?" he said quietly, forcing calm into his tone. "Why would I even care?"
Lianxiu smiled faintly, leaning just close enough that the scent of water and pine between them deepened.
"And what if I told you it's you I like?" he said. The words came out in a whisper.
Xiuyuan's breath caught. His eyes snapped back to him.
"Shen Lianxiu," he said again, firmer this time, though a faint color had already touched his ears. "You've gone mad."
Lianxiu didn't argue. He only looked, smiling softly, the kind of smile that came when the truth had already escaped and couldn't be taken back.
For a long heartbeat, neither of them moved. The stream murmured quietly beside them, silver light gliding over the water.
The air between them had turned still, almost fragile. The forest had fallen silent except for the low, steady murmur of the stream.
For a long while, he couldn't speak. His throat was dry, his thoughts a tangled blur. Then, slowly, the words came.
"Shixiong," he said softly, voice low and trembling, "just now… I had a dirty thought about you."
Xiuyuan's brows drew together, his breath still faint and even, though his eyes flickered with faint surprise.
Lianxiu's voice shook, but he pressed on, almost desperate to get the truth out. "That's why I jumped into the water. I was shocked by myself. I never— I've never had such thoughts before, not about anyone. And when I realized it, I was disgusted with myself. I didn't want to—"
He broke off, his eyes falling to the ground between them. "I didn't want to do anything that would hurt you."
Xiuyuan was silent. His expression unreadable, his gaze half-turned toward the rippling water.
Lianxiu drew a shaky breath and continued, "I want to be honest with you, Shixiong. From now on, I don't want to hide anything—my good side, my bad side, both. But I promise… I'll make sure none of it hurts you."
The confession lingered in the air, pure and trembling, like frost hanging on the edge of dawn.
For a moment, Xiuyuan didn't respond. Then, with quiet irony, he murmured, "Says the one who's pinning me to the bare ground."
Lianxiu blinked, startled—and then, despite everything, gave a tiny, nervous laugh. "Ah… right."
He still didn't move though, his eyes fixed earnestly on Xiuyuan's face. "But really," he said, more quietly now, "I wouldn't force you to accept me. You don't need to. Just… tell me if my presence ever bothers you. I'll quickly disappear and try not to show up again."
His tone was simple, almost childlike, but his sincerity burned through every word.
Xiuyuan looked at him then—really looked.
The young boy before him, drenched, shivering, his hair dripping onto the grass, was ridiculous, naïve, reckless—and yet his heart was entirely unguarded. There was no deceit, no pretense. Just a raw, luminous honesty that made Xiuyuan's chest tighten without warning.
For the briefest moment, he almost forgot to breathe. Something inside him swayed, a quiet pull he refused to name.
Then, before that feeling could take root, he straightened his expression and said curtly, "Move away first."
Lianxiu blinked, startled out of his daze. "Oh." He scrambled up quickly, brushing grass from his hands.
Xiuyuan rose too, composed as ever, his damp hair falling neatly over his shoulder.
Neither of them spoke for a while. The moonlight draped over their faces, soft and pale.
Lianxiu looked down, cheeks burning, feeling both foolish and lighthearted at once.
Xiuyuan, however, stood perfectly still—calm, distant, but with the faintest trace of color at the edge of his ear.
He could have easily pushed Lianxiu away earlier. The boy's grip had been weak, clumsy. And yet… he hadn't.
Even he didn't quite understand why.