By Zephyria 
Jing Mian sat up almost instantly.
“Husband!” Jing Mian swallowed lightly and said, “…I can do it myself.”
He quickly bent down, took off his shoes and socks, and fearing the man would reach out, he rolled up his wet trouser legs.
Jing Mian walked briskly towards the bathroom, finding that the water temperature had already been adjusted.
The young man took off his soaking wet clothes, turned on the switch, and felt the warm water rushing over him, flowing down his skin. Only then did his heartbeat gradually slow down.
The husband didn’t insist on coming to help him.
After a heart-stopping evening, from his most severe episode that nearly ended his career, the husband’s mere presence smoothed out the edges of the night, just like every peaceful night he had experienced before.
Jing Mian looked at the puddles of water on the bathroom floor. The warm, misty steam isolated the cold from outside, as if he had never harbored any unpleasant thoughts.
There was a sense of sudden detachment from the world.
It was as if he had almost left, only to be pulled back from the abyss by a hand.
When he looked up again,
As far as the eye could see, there was only dawn.
When Jing Mian finished washing and walked out of the bathroom, a stack of soft, dry change of clothes had already been placed neatly on the corner of the nearby table.
Jing Mian was slightly stunned.
By the time he had changed, the night was deep.
Mr. Ren had probably gone to sleep as well.
Jing Mian followed the handrail up the stairs. Although the light was dim, it was just enough to illuminate each step. When he looked up, the familiar wall lamp on the second floor was emitting a soft, warm glow.
Following the faint light into the bedroom.
Unexpectedly, the master bedroom was not pitch black.
On the bedside table, there was a pale spherical light source.
Though faint, it floated delicately and silently, softening one’s heart and making it impossible to look away.
It was the globe, a recent gift from Mr. Ren.
He didn’t know when the man had turned it on.
But tonight, for Jing Mian, it was probably the best time.
It was a scene that he would never forget, even after many years, leaving a deep impression.
Jing Mian lingered for a while, then quietly got into bed.
Mr. Ren seemed to be already asleep.
Jing Mian’s movements were gentle as he lifted the edge of the blanket. As he lay down, he found that the man appeared to have fallen asleep facing his direction.
He could hear Mr. Ren’s steady breathing.
For some reason, Jing Mian suddenly remembered the embrace on the shore today.
The husband’s embrace was warm and broad, his arms holding him tightly, his long fingertips as if trying to knead him into his body.
“…”
Jing Mian pondered for a few seconds, pressing his lips together slightly.
The young man’s lithe body brushed against the sheets as he moved forward slightly, nestling into Mr. Ren’s arms.
Soon, Jing Mian’s arms went from stiff to gradually relaxed.
He fell into a deep, soft sleep.
The rich night grew even deeper.
Mr. Ren opened his eyes.
The man reached out, wrapped his arm around Jing Mian’s waist, and pulled him close.
Above Jing Mian’s drowsy sleeping eyes, a kiss was placed on his forehead.