Pei You was in love for the first time and didn’t know how to handle these overwhelming emotions. He knelt on the ground in silence for a good two or three minutes before he managed to calm his emotions and resumed the work in his hands.
Unlike Zhou Qingbo, who usually stuck to a routine and seldom moved around, Pei You had been traveling all the time due to work, considering business trips as part of his daily life. He had developed a neat and organized way of packing over the years. The everyday items that Zhou Qingbo had scattered everywhere were effortlessly arranged by Pei You. Folding them neatly, he placed them in the side pocket of the suitcase.
Pei You searched while tidying up, but even after turning the suitcase upside down, he couldn’t find the disinfectant. He wondered if Zhou Qingbo forgot where he put it.
“Qingbo,” Pei You called out without looking up, “I can’t find the disinfectant Where did you put it?”
There was no response from Zhou Qingbo. When Pei You turned around, he realized that Zhou Qingbo had already fallen asleep.
He did look tired, so much so that he couldn’t even manage to find a comfortable sleeping position. He was still lying there the way he fell on the bed when he walked in, quietly and soundlessly sprawled out on the cold, hard bed board.
He didn’t even get a chance to take off his shoes; one leg was hanging off the bed, and half of his face was pressed against the bed board, giving it a slightly contorted look. Pei You sighed softly in his heart, a mixture of helplessness and affectionate amusement tugging at him. He closed the suitcase in his hand and moved to the other side of the bed.
He had the intention to adjust Zhou Qingbo into a more comfortable position, but the moment he touched him, Zhou Qingbo unconsciously furrowed his brows, his thin eyelids twitching as if he was uneasy.
Afraid of disturbing him, Pei You withdrew his hand, not daring to make any sudden movements. He sat by the bed, waiting for Zhou Qingbo to fall deeper into sleep.
With no further disturbances, Zhou Qingbo’s furrowed brows relaxed slightly. His body gently rose and fell, and his breathing became slow and steady.
His phone was tucked in his pocket and got caught between his movements, half propped up against the bed. Pei You, fearing that it might be uncomfortable for Zhou Qingbo, carefully reached out and slid it from under him.
In the process, Pei You accidentally triggered on function. The phone screen quietly lit up, revealing the lock screen wallpaper.
It was not the wallpaper Pei You was familiar with; it was dimmer and blurrier, with a quality at least two notches lower than high definition. But Pei You only glanced at it before freezing in place.
— Because he suddenly realized that the “main character” in that photo was himself.
He unconsciously glanced at Zhou Qingbo, unable to resist bringing the phone closer and subtly increasing the brightness.
In the dim light, he was leaning against the car seat in blissful sleep. A corner of an empty file bag peeked out from behind the front seat, with the characters “Xi’an” written on it.
Pei You didn’t know when Zhou Qingbo managed to snap this photo, and it took him a few moments to recall where this photo might have been taken.
— It was on their way to Weinan.
In the photo, rain and mist blurred the view outside the car window, framing the lens in a small enclosed space. In the soft and hazy light, Pei You was the sole focus of the photo.
Perhaps Zhou Qingbo had a talent for photography, as the atmosphere of the photo was excellent. Even someone as unobservant as Pei You could sense an indescribable sentiment emanating from the photo.
He never knew he could look so gentle and serene. As the soft light washed over him, he could even see the tiny shadow cast by his eyelashes.
Warm yellow easily evoked a sense of comfort—like a sunset, like the night, and like the small bedside lamp at home. Pei You absentmindedly wiped off a bit of mud from the screen and found a soothing fatigue from the image.
He never knew this photo existed, nor did he know that on that rainy night, Zhou Qingbo had silently observed him from this angle.
Perhaps the photographer himself was also unaware, but from an outsider’s perspective, it was easy to discern the silent goodwill hidden within this photo.
The sound of rain outside gradually lessened, the clouds dispersed, and the once hazy moonlight became more distinct, softly spreading through the curtain.
Pei You placed the phone gently on the folding table by the bed and sat down by the cot, gazing at Zhou Qingbo. He intentionally suppressed his breathing, not wanting to disturb him, or perhaps subconsciously syncing his rhythm with Zhou Qingbo’s.
Surviving great difficulties and reuniting after a long period of separation, even for someone like Pei You who didn’t understand romance, it was hard to avoid feeling a bit sentimental. He looked at Zhou Qingbo with a focused gaze, and after a while, couldn’t help but extend his hand and lightly touch the corner of Zhou Qingbo’s eye.
Zhou Qingbo’s eyes were slightly sensitive to light due to mild night blindness. Once exposed to light, it took him longer to adjust to darkness. The rescue team’s work continued day and night, with the limited range of high-powered headlamps. Zhou Qingbo’s eyes struggled to adapt to the mixed lighting conditions. So, he simply wore sunglasses, adjusting the lighting inside and outside the tent to be almost the same.
Because he was worried about the sunglasses slipping during work, Zhou Qingbo had added an elastic band to the frame to secure them in place. Wearing them for extended periods of time left a noticeable mark on his face.
Pei You’s fingertip gently traced that mark, suddenly realizing that his previous understanding of Zhou Qingbo wasn’t accurate enough.
He had always thought that he was moved by Zhou Qingbo’s liveliness and confidence, by his favoritism and unique charm. But now, it seemed that those superficial, singular “tags” and “reasons” were far from sufficient to describe even a fraction of his feelings.
A pure heart, fearlessness—it was all heartwarming. Pei You was no exception. He gazed at Zhou Qingbo for a long while, and then, unable to restrain himself, he slightly bent down, and lightly kissed his forehead.
“I love you,” Pei You thought, “My heart belongs to only you from now on.”
During the confession earlier, Zhou Qingbo had mentioned wanting to keep Pei You by his side. And at this moment, Pei You also had the same thought.
He wanted to fulfill Zhou Qingbo’s wishes, to see him happy and living freely.
Pei You wished for Zhou Qingbo’s wishes to be fulfilled, but at the same time, he also hoped that he would be the one to create a smooth and stable future for Zhou Qingbo.
Zhou Qingbo always felt that Pei You was like a calm and serene sea—gentle, accommodating, and all-encompassing. But now, although the surface of this sea was calm, underneath there were tumultuous currents. For the first time, Pei You had a possessive desire that was unreasonable yet uncontrollable, and it was coupled with a sense of wanting to belong to only Zhou Qingbo and Qingbo to be his as well.
The water’s surface rippled with waves, and the bright moonlight fell upon the layers of ripples, silently imprinting a personal mark.
Zhou Qingbo’s brow relaxed as he slept soundly. He seemed immersed in a long-lost dream, completely unaware that in this late night, he had obtained the sea.