Chapter 59: Dreading the Dawn

Chapter 59: Dreading the Dawn

Zhao Shengge was commanding, yet he had his moments of gentleness.

He personally lit many fireworks for Chen Wan.

Brighter than the fireworks at Victoria Harbour, Chen Wan treasured them as if this night’s brilliance was all his life had to offer.

Once they burned out, they were gone.

Chen Wan held onto his only lifeline, breathing rapidly, his mind raced through countless memories—the deep blue night sea on the deck, the rugby field and swimming pool at Yinghua headquarters, the fireflies at Mount Kaduri, the fences at Mount Xiaolan… Time was a blur, but it always led back to Zhao Shengge.

The one who ignited the flames gripped his neck, chest heaving, voice hoarse: "Chen Wan, why are you putting me on such a pedestal? Am I just a decoration to you?"

Chen Wan stared wide-eyed at his face: "I know, you’re not."

Zhao Shengge was real, touchable.

Zhao Shengge’s expression hardened as he tightened his grip: "I don’t think you really know."

Chen Wan was on the verge of suffocation: "I—I know."

Zhao Shengge softened, his gaze deep and complex as he touched Chen Wan’s face, one that was both tender and enduring.

Never in his life had Chen Wan been looked at with such an expression, one that made his heart feel as if it were being reborn.

"Zhao Shengge."

At dawn, Chen Wan stirred, and Zhao Shengge woke up too.

He was a bit grumpy upon waking, burying his face impatiently into Chen Wan’s neck, but he calmed down as soon as Chen Wan patted his back, his hand instinctively wrapping around Chen Wan’s waist, like a predator protecting its catch.

Chen Wan was surprised that Zhao Shengge, so strong and unshakable, needed so much tenderness afterward.

If Chen Wan moved away even slightly, Zhao Shengge would instinctively furrow his brows.

So Chen Wan remained still, gently patting his back and stroking his hair, and Zhao Shengge, like the pack leader, returned to his warm den to sleep soundly.

In these moments, Chen Wan wanted to give Zhao Shengge the softest part of his heart, letting him do as he wished.

Chen Wan quietly studied his face, thinking he looked a bit like his younger self, but not quite.

When Zhao Shengge opened his eyes, Chen Wan was shielding the light for him with his hand.

The curtains, hastily drawn the night before, let in sunlight, making Zhao Shengge’s sleep uneasy. Chen Wan wanted to adjust them, but Zhao Shengge was too alert, so Chen Wan used his hand to cover his eyes instead. His hand was soft, like a comforting blanket over Zhao Shengge’s eyes.

Zhao Shengge didn’t know how long he had maintained this position, but outside the window, the sun had risen high, and the sea was covered in shimmering light.

In the golden morning light, Zhao Shengge realized two things.

First, Chen Wan must love Zhao Shengge very much.

Second, Zhao Shengge held absolute sovereignty in Chen Wan’s world.

Once Zhao Shengge fully woke up, the vulnerable side of him disappeared, and he returned to his usual self—reserved, steady, reliable. He sat up, leaning against the headboard, and said to Chen Wan, "Come here."

Chen Wan obediently moved closer, and Zhao Shengge touched his forehead to check for a fever. There was none; last night had indeed been excessive.

Zhao Shengge’s arms were long and strong, more sensual and secure than in Chen Wan’s dreams.

Chen Wan reached out and touched him lightly, and Zhao Shengge asked, "What's wrong?"

Chen Wan shook his head and asked, "You kept this?"

A Cartier lighter was placed by the bedside table, alongside a few books.

Zhao Shengge grunted in response, picked it up, lit a Juliet, and clenched it between his teeth.

Leaning against the headboard, the way he held the cigarette was cool yet alluring. Chen Wan kept watching him, unblinking, his eyes dark.

Zhao Shengge shot him a look, then took the cigarette from his lips and offered it to Chen Wan.

Chen Wan didn’t reach out to take it but instead parted his lips and took a drag.

Zhao Shengge raised a brow but held it steady, his thumb brushing Chen Wan’s dry lips. Only after Chen Wan blew a smoke ring did Zhao Shengge put it back in his own mouth.

In the dim room, the flame glowed orange-red, and the two quietly shared a cigarette.

Chen Wan asked, "Should we get up?"

Zhao Shengge had no schedule in the morning, but Fang Jian brought up in the group chat that he needed to discuss something with Zhao Shengge and Xu Zhiying, set for the afternoon.

The model for the Ting Island research project had been established, and Fang Jian had given Chen Wan tasks too.

While reminding him, Chen Wan took the opportunity to sneak another touch on Zhao Shengge’s arm.

But Zhao Shengge immediately grabbed his wrist, looking down at him, "That’s twice now, Chen Wan."

Did he really think Zhao Shengge hadn’t noticed?

Chen Wan blinked and said, "I just wanted to check." He had already memorized the wrist and finger measurements.

Zhao Shengge didn’t mind, let out a soft chuckle, kicked off the blanket, and got out of bed. He didn’t bother getting dressed, walking barefoot into the bathroom.

Chen Wan, worried he might catch a cold, grabbed a robe and followed to wrap it around him.

Zhao Shengge: "..."

While washing up, Chen Wan noticed the brand of Zhao Shengge’s aftershave.

Downstairs, the housekeeper had already prepared lunch.

Chen Wan watched the auntie’s back as she left, his back stiffened. He realized belatedly that while he had been brave last night, he felt awkward now and whispered, "So the auntie works for your family?"

"Mm."

"You sent her to take care of me in the hospital?" He was surprised.

Zhao Shengge looked at him quietly, "What do you think it was for?"

Chen Wan said, "I don’t know." In his understanding, at that time, he and Zhao Shengge could only be considered acquaintances.

"I couldn’t let someone I didn’t know take care of you," Zhao Shengge glanced at him, pointing out bluntly, "Chen Wan, you’re good at taking care of others, but not yourself."

Chen Wan was stunned, a sudden warmth flooded his body—a warmth that traced back to the time he was hospitalized, though it was only now that Chen Wan received it.

Perhaps it was also the fireworks from last night at Victoria Harbour that lingered in his body, warming his heart.

Zhao Shengge got up to load the dishwasher. Chen Wan suddenly grabbed him, looked up, and asked directly, "Did I do okay last night? Did you enjoy it?"

He looked serious and stern, not smiling, as if he was determined to get an answer.

It was unusual for Chen Wan to be so direct. Zhao Shengge raised an eyebrow, thought for a moment, and instead of answering, he asked, "Chen Wan, do you think I did well last night? Did you like it?"

"..."

Chen Wan had been daring when he posed the question, but now, being asked in return, he felt embarrassed after the fact and a bit speechless. Sometimes, people just blurt things out without thinking.

Zhao Shengge didn’t push him. He went to the kitchen and, upon returning, stood in front of him, leaned down, looked into his eyes, and said earnestly, "Chen Wan, you are beyond compare."

Chen Wan’s face turned red in an instant.

His heart raced, and his hands clenched tightly.

Zhao Shengge tilted his head, taking in the sight for a moment, then kissed his lips, which were even redder than his face.

Zhao Shengge’s expression was calm and indifferent, but his arms were strong. His calm yet intimate gestures were captivating.

Chen Wan winced slightly from the bite and chased after him, entangling him. Zhao Shengge gently held his shoulders and said, "Chen Wan, it’s time to go out."

Fang Jian had already shared several files in the group chat. Chen Wan drove Zhao Shengge to Minglong.

When they were about to leave, Chen Wan bent down to grab Zhao Shengge’s shoes from the cabinet. Zhao Shengge pulled him up and mimicked his move, bent down, took out Chen Wan’s shoes, and placed them by his feet.

Chen Wan was momentarily confused, not understanding. Zhao Shengge pointed at him and said, "Chen Wan, if you keep this up, we’ll have to start over right here."

"..." Chen Wan was speechless, amazed at Zhao Shengge’s casual remark, and he had already forgotten that it was he himself who had shamelessly admitted that he always carried condoms whenever he went to pick up Zhao Shengge.

They took the Central Interchange once more, just as they had the night before.

The daytime Victoria Harbour lacked fireworks, but its light and shadow were forever imprinted in Chen Wan’s heart.

The tall blue bilingual road signs lined the route. Queen’s Road was a right turn, and straight ahead was the Cathedral of the Admiral.

From now on, every time Chen Wan drove past this road, he would surely remember Zhao Shengge holding his hand in Admiralty, kissing his lips on Fenwick Street, and saying "Thank you, Chen Wan" in Tai Ping Bay.

Autumn in the city was fleeting. The sea wasn’t as clear as in summer, but the sky was blue. The underwater tunnel was clear of traffic, and the Hong Kong Golden Melodies radio station played "The Postman" today.

As the Cayenne pulled up to Minglong, Zhao Shengge stepped out to the lyrics "Watching the butterfly unable to cross the horizon."

Chen Wan held the steering wheel with one hand, smiling and waving goodbye through the lowered window. The autumn sun bathed him in a golden, tender glow.

Zhao Shengge took a few steps, then turned back, leaned down, and said through the window, "Chen Wan."

"Hmm?"

The radio sang, "You are a thousand piles of snow, I am the long street, afraid that when the sun rises, we will disintegrate."

Zhao Shengge looked into his eyes, thought for a moment, and said, "At the end of last night, what I whispered in your ear, you heard it, right?"

Chen Wan was momentarily taken aback, warmth creeping up his ears, though he kept his composure.

He had always been one thousand percent honest with Zhao Shengge, very obedient. Only this time, he raised an eyebrow and asked, "What did you say?"

Zhao Shengge also raised an eyebrow, looked at him for a moment, straightened up, hands in his pockets, and said, "If you didn’t hear it, I’ll say it again next time we do it."

Chen Wan smiled helplessly, watching his back, thinking, "Then I’ll be the one to say it."

On his way back to Kexiang, he passed a flower shop, but only hydrangeas remained—peonies were out of season.

Chen Wan went to the next shop.

The grapes had ripened, and Chen Wan tasted them personally, wondering if this could be considered as winning over Zhao Shengge.

Chen Wan recalled the phrase "you are unparalleled."

Unparalleled means unique, the best, the most beautiful.

Chen Wan is very traditional; a confession had to be serious, formal, and grand. Whatever others have, Zhao Shengge must have more.

Fortunately, the next flower shop had peonies. Chen Wan picked a bouquet and also took some letter paper, writing down all the things he wanted to tell Zhao Shengge. Zhao Shengge would surely be amazed.

With this thought, he stepped out, holding the flowers, just as a flock of white pigeons took flight from the Bauhinia Plaza, soaring towards the free blue sky.

Chen Wan smiled slightly, got into the car, turned the key, and the radio was tuned to "Keanu Reeves' Reply," but it no longer carried a sense of sorrow.

"Knowing we are separated by space, yet I still send my love into envelopes every day."

Now that the letter was complete, it was time to send it.

Chen Wan meticulously arranged the wrapping paper, and his phone rang. He picked it up and took a look.

After a long while, Chen Wan turned off the ignition.

Outside the window, the flock of white pigeons had circled and landed, unable to fly higher. He regretfully placed the flowers on the passenger seat, opened the compartment to search, took out a pillbox, and swallowed a few sedatives.

Author's note:

Today's golden song on the Hong Kong radio is "The Postman."