Chapter 31

Chapter 31

He didn’t need to think to know what he’d just touched.

Song Yuan’s heart pounded violently, his face flushed crimson. He abruptly sat up, breaking the awkward almost-embrace.

The curtains near the balcony weren’t fully drawn, allowing a shaft of light to seep in, landing precisely by Gu Jingchi’s shoulder.

Song Yuan wanted to adjust them, but Gu Jingchi was sensitive—any movement from him would make him stir.

Before pulling away completely, Song Yuan didn’t want to wake Gu Jingchi. After a moment’s hesitation, he simply reached out and covered Gu Jingchi’s eyes with his hand.

When Gu Jingchi woke, this was what he saw.

The sun outside had risen high, casting golden glimmers on the sea, light dancing across the surface.

Song Yuan sat before him, his face burning scarlet, his hand hovering over Gu Jingchi’s eyes, blocking the light for him.

Gu Jingchi gazed at him for a long time, his heartbeat quickening.

Song Yuan felt his face burning hot. "Oh, you're awake."

Gu Jingchi didn’t speak, only looked at him.

"Did I wake you?" Song Yuan’s heart raced. He didn’t dare look around, afraid of seeing something he shouldn’t.

Gu Jingchi shook his head.

He had always been adept at suppressing his emotions and desires, but this skill had completely deserted him since meeting Song Yuan.

Upon waking, he suddenly wanted to hold Song Yuan.

The urge came out of nowhere. Gu Jingchi told himself—he was only doing this to ease Song Yuan’s separation anxiety. Nothing more.

He gripped Song Yuan’s wrist and squeezed gently.

Unexpectedly, Song Yuan reacted strongly, like a startled rabbit, trembling and nearly leaping out of his skin.

"Uh, time to get ready. We’re leaving today." With that, Song Yuan bolted from the bed as if running for his life.

Gu Jingchi watched him expressionlessly the entire time.

Sneaking a peek at Gu Jingchi’s expression, Song Yuan noted he didn’t seem angry. Surely, he didn’t know that he’d touched him while he was asleep.

That must be it.

Song Yuan gradually relaxed.

His foot touched the floor, but the sensation felt odd. Looking down, he saw his blanket had fallen to the ground.

More likely, he had kicked it off the bed last night.

Embarrassed, he turned to Gu Jingchi. "Did I… toss and turn much while sleeping last night?"

Song Yuan’s avoidance was clearly deliberate. Gu Jingchi had already felt strange because of his actions, and after hearing the question, his mood darkened completely.

Yes, very restless.

Around one in the morning, Gu Jingchi had woken up to find Song Yuan clinging to his waist.

He had mercilessly peeled Song Yuan off and wrapped him in another blanket. To prevent him from escaping, he even folded the blanket inward, tightly sealing the edges.

Yet, in the next moment, Song Yuan had immediately curled up against him.

As if equipped with GPS on every inch of his skin, he had accurately located Gu Jingchi’s waist and wrapped his arms around it.

Gu Jingchi knew this wasn’t proper and considered waking Song Yuan.

But when he touched Song Yuan’s hand, he froze.

Song Yuan’s hand was icy—no, he was cold all over, like the coldest days of winter. But it was already spring.

This puzzle stayed with him until he remembered Song Yuan mentioning his separation anxiety before bed.

—"I have separation anxiety. I need to be physically close to someone."

Gu Jingchi held Song Yuan’s hand.

…So cold.

Lowered body temperature was indeed a symptom of anxiety, so it made sense that he would instinctively seek warmth while asleep.

It made perfect sense.

Gu Jingchi realized he had no reason to refuse Song Yuan.

So he let him stay close.

Song Yuan was a quiet sleeper. When Gu Jingchi shifted, Song Yuan’s body would tremble slightly but wouldn’t wake. Instead, he would nestle closer in an even more intimate position.

Gu Jingchi lay awake all night.

He thought of his childhood. Sent to a boarding school abroad at eight, spending holidays alone in a remote estate until adulthood, he had become used to being alone.

This habit had been completely broken since Song Yuan entered his life.

He had expected to dislike this change, but when it happened, he found he didn’t dislike it.

Song Yuan’s instinctive need for closeness brought Gu Jingchi immense satisfaction. He slept only a few hours in the latter half of the night but woke feeling completely rested.

This satisfaction vanished the moment Song Yuan pulled his hand away.

Didn’t Song Yuan have separation anxiety? Why wasn’t he asking for a hug?

It wasn’t like Gu Jingchi would refuse.

"So disobedient," Gu Jingchi said flatly.

Song Yuan didn’t know what had happened last night, nor that Gu Jingchi’s remark was about his not asking for a hug. He assumed it was about his restlessness.

"I-I’m sorry. I’ve never shared a bed before, so I didn’t know I’d be so restless." Song Yuan apologized meekly.

Song Yuan had misunderstood, but Gu Jingchi’s frown softened.

"First time sharing a bed?"

Song Yuan nodded, "Mm, you're the first one."

Gu Jingchi's expression softened slightly. He lowered his eyes, deep in thought.

The next second, a blanket dropped onto him.

Song Yuan didn’t have time to dodge, and his vision was covered by the blanket—he was completely blindfolded.

By the time he pulled the blanket off his head, Gu Jingchi had already left the room.

*

After breakfast, Song Yuan finished packing and prepared to head back.

Jiang Ming had spent a fairly enjoyable weekend in Nancheng, buying a lot of things—mostly gifts to bring back for family and friends.

"Yuan Yuan, this is for you!" Jiang Ming handed the gift to Song Yuan.

"I get one too?" Song Yuan was pleasantly surprised. "But I'm already here."

"Doesn't matter," Jiang Ming said, proving himself ever the diplomat. "Everyone gets a share."

Similarly, Gu Jingchi also received a gift.

It was a stack of photos of Song Yuan.

Song Yuan: "……"

He took them and flipped through, realizing the photos spanned a wide range of time but were quite comprehensive—Song family gatherings, W University’s art festival, fashion design classes, even the Nancheng comic convention… all moments from his life after arriving in this world.

"These are good." But was it really appropriate to give them to Gu Jingchi?

In his limited understanding, no one was vain enough to gift their own photos to someone else.

"No big deal. I was actually worried there weren’t enough. Some of them were even got from seniors from the academy—you can find them on the school’s official account." Jiang Ming didn’t notice the subtle shift in Song Yuan’s expression and continued enthusiastically.

"I originally planned to print a thousand, but the shop was overwhelmed with orders last night. The owner was busy, so I only got 520 in the end."

That’s not the point!

But since they were already printed, and it was a kind gesture, Song Yuan couldn’t find a reason to refuse. He thanked Jiang Ming and stuffed the photos into his bag, pressing them all the way to the bottom.

He couldn’t bring himself not to give them to Gu Jingchi, but at the very least, not right now.

He didn’t want Gu Jingchi to think he was some narcissist.

In the lounge, Song Yuan was enjoying his last lunch before boarding.

After lunch, Song Yuan and Gu Jingchi received a text about the delay from the airline. Their originally scheduled 3 PM flight was delayed until midnight.

Meaning they’d have to wait at least ten hours.

"Gu Jingchi, are you in a hurry to go back?"

"Not really," Gu Jingchi shook his head. "Even if I were, I’m stuck here, aren’t I?"

Song Yuan thought that made sense and smiled. "Then let’s go explore!"

They’d been working the past few days and hadn’t had the chance to properly explore Nancheng.

Jiang Ming had other plans and left the group early. "Perfect timing—I can go to an in-person birthday meetup for an anime character. See ya~"

Song Yuan happily waved him off, then turned to Gu Jingchi. "Want to go? Let’s go have fun together. We’ve never hung out alone together before."

Gu Jingchi agreed.

It was true—he’d never been on a date with Song Yuan.

Nancheng was a vibrant city. Despite its highly developed economy, the ancient district had been well-preserved. To maintain aesthetic harmony, newer buildings in the area adopted a blend of modern Chinese and old-school arcade designs—preserving tradition while fostering economic growth, a brilliant stroke of urban planning.

From the historic Xiguan mansions to the trendy hub of Dongshankou, Song Yuan had never seen so many interesting and trendy young people. He excitedly gawked at everything.

A guy with spiky hair walked past, and Song Yuan’s gaze followed the *sea urchin* head until it disappeared.

Gu Jingchi glanced at the *sea urchin*.

He didn’t see what was so interesting about it.

"Watch where you’re going."

"Got it!" Song Yuan turned back.

They walked side by side for a long time, only stopping when they reached the end of the road. Then, Song Yuan said quietly, "Gu Jingchi, I want to dye my hair too."

*Snap—*

A long branch snapped underfoot as Gu Jingchi halted.

He couldn’t help but think of that *sea urchin* head. "You want to turn into a sea urchin too?"

Song Yuan’s eyes widened slightly before he laughed at Gu Jingchi’s words.

"No, no," Song Yuan said softly. "His hair was black. I want to dye mine black too—it looks really nice."

The spiky-haired guy’s hair color was similar to Gu Jingchi’s—a deep, pure black. He thought that kind of black was the most beautiful.

Unfortunately, his own hair wasn’t like that. It was lighter, still black but tinged with other shades, like dark brown.

Gu Jingchi glanced at Song Yuan’s hair. "But you look fine as you are."

"Really?" Song Yuan stole another glance at Gu Jingchi’s hair, still preferred pure black.

"I mean it."

Song Yuan laughed softly. "Gu Jingchi, you’re really handsome too."

Gu Jingchi didn’t respond. He hadn’t complimented Song Yuan just to hear such a polite remark in return.

He wanted Song Yuan to feel the same way—at the very least, more than others do.

The two wandered leisurely through Nancheng’s streets, eventually ending up by the Nan River.

A bridge arched over the river, its unique circular structure shining brightly under the sunset.

"I want to go see it."

They say this was Nancheng’s first cross-river bridge.

The view here was stunning—no towering skyscrapers, just the peaceful view of the Nan River at night.

When boats passed beneath the bridge, everyone automatically stopped to witness the brief moment.

"This place is gorgeous," Song Yuan said with a smile.

"It’ll get even prettier later," Gu Jingchi told him.

They instinctively slowed down together. What should’ve been a fifteen-minute walk to the other side of the river took them half an hour.

When the orange-red hues of the sunset completely faded, the sky was replaced by a deep blue—a blue so unique no artist could recreate it. Song Yuan stared at it for a long time, dying to paint it.

After descending the bridge, they stepped into downtown Nan City.

This side of the river was a completely different world from the other, like they’d teleported into a digital world.

The roads were wide, the lights bright, and packed with people, but Song Yuan hated the vibe here.

It was a strange feeling, hard to describe—maybe because the buildings were too tightly packed, or perhaps because there were too many people. Song Yuan stood on the street for a while, couldn’t shake the weird feeling in his chest.

Before he knew it, he had spaced out for half a minute. When he came to, he realized Gu Jingchi had been standing beside him the whole time, watching him for who knew how long.

Gu Jingchi asked, "Want to go back?"

Song Yuan jumped at the chance. "Yes!"

Gu Jingchi seemed very familiar with Nan City. He led Song Yuan away from the main road, cutting through quieter backstreets with fewer people.

Once they left the crowded streets, the air even smelled fresher.

Song Yuan loved this atmosphere. The old stone roads of Nan City were paved with bricks, each etched with weird designs. Walking along the quiet, well-lit path, he perked up.

At the end of the stone road stood a school, far from the noisy city center and relatively peaceful.

After walking for a while, Song Yuan suddenly let out a surprised noise. "Why is this school so big?"

No joke—they had been walking for nearly twenty minutes, yet the school’s fence kept going along their right side.

Not just the right side, but the opposite side too.

"Their high school, middle school, and elementary school are all together," Gu Jingchi said. "The opposite side is the elementary section."

"Ah." Song Yuan blinked. "Can high school and elementary school really coexist? Wouldn’t that be chaos?"

Gu Jingchi shook his head. "No."

Song Yuan insisted, "That’s impossible."

Gu Jingchi told him, "I studied here in first grade. Everyone was quiet."

Eerily quiet for kids.

Song Yuan’s eyes went wide. "Really?"

Gu Jingchi nodded.

"Only first grade."

By second grade, he had been sent to a boarding school abroad.

Song Yuan’s eyes darted around, scanning the area, looking for something. Suddenly, he patted Gu Jingchi’s shoulder excitedly and pointed in a direction. "No way, Gu Jingchi, I think I see you!"

Gu Jingchi had no idea what Song Yuan was looking at that had him so excited.

Following his finger, he spotted a row of student photos in the school’s bulletin board.

[Alumni Hall of Fame (Childhood Photos)]

Gu Jingchi: "..."

Song Yuan darted across the street and leaned in close to the board.

He glanced at Gu Jingchi, then back at the photo, then at Gu Jingchi again.

"It’s so similar! It’s totally you!"

Of course it was—there was nothing to compare.

Young Gu Jingchi was even more well-behaved than Song Yuan had imagined. His skin was pale, dressed in a mini suit, the picture of a tiny serious adult—though his kid side still showed.

"Gu Jingchi, you were so cute!"

Gu Jingchi’s eye twitched.

Sometimes, he truly didn’t get Song Yuan’s obsession. He had no idea how such words could ever be associated with him.

After praising him, Song Yuan whipped out his phone and started taking pictures of the bulletin board.

But no matter how he tilted it, the photos kept coming out glare-y. Frustrated, he made Gu Jingchi hold up his phone’s flashlight from the side to cut the glare.

"Why are you taking this?"

"Now I’ll have a photo of you as a kid."

Gu Jingchi was baffled. "If you want one, I can give you one."

Song Yuan shook his head. "It’s not the same."

How was it different?

Song Yuan ignored the question. Instead, he went off on a tangent.

"I wish I had known you when we were kids."

Song Yuan’s train of thought derailed too quickly for Gu Jingchi to follow.

"Imagine—we were classmates for a year and became friends. Then, in the second year, you left and went to study somewhere else. But it’s fine. I’d have your photo. I’d remember your face. I’d swim oceans to track you down."

Song Yuan waved the photo triumphantly. "It’d take a lot of time and patience. Whenever I started to forget you, I’d take out this photo. Maybe before long, I’d find you. I’d sprint to you, hug you, and say, 'Gu Jingchi! Surprise! Guess who’s here?!'"

Song Yuan’s voice was like a narrator’s, weaving a vivid daydream in Gu Jingchi’s mind.

The Nordic Arctic Circle.

Phillips Academy braced against the storm. As the sun retreated to the Southern Hemisphere, the region was about to plunge into polar night—round-the-clock darkness. Then, like some kind of miracle, Song Yuan would appear outside Gu Jingchi’s dormitory door, photo in hand.

When the door opened, Gu Jingchi wouldn’t see snow—just a sun hot enough to melt polar ice caps.

Unstoppable, it would ignite sparks, setting the tundra on fire. Over 900 kilometers away, the Greenwich Observatory would sound an alarm that day.

—The Arctic Circle, meant to be dark for months, was miraculously sunny.

Gu Jingchi’s heart hammered against his ribs.

Years later, he never forgot this day.

From this moment on, Gu Jingchi wanted to kiss Song Yuan daily.