By Zephyria Jing Mian faintly remembered that the soundproofing in this building wasn’t great.
Logically, they should have restrained themselves, but when pushed to the brink, they inevitably let out some sounds.
In the past, Jing Mian had usually been too preoccupied to notice, but now, with his senses sharpened in this relatively unfamiliar and long-absent environment, he could hear his own voice, Mr. Ren’s, and the sounds they made together.
Jing Mian wrapped his arms around the man’s neck, fingers tightening as he suppressed trembling whimpers, the muffled sounds persisting throughout the long night.
In his daze, he heard Mr. Ren ask, “Why are you holding back your voice?”
Jing Mian: “…”
Too embarrassed to mention the poor soundproofing, the young man tactfully reminded him, “The building is small… the neighbors are all asleep.”
So, the considerate Mr. Ren lifted him up and sealed his lips with a kiss.
Yet the ongoing act showed no mercy whatsoever.
Regardless of the process, they did manage to effectively control the noise.
But this was clearly only a temporary fix. By the umpteenth round, Jing Mian even began to worry about the bedframe.
Soon, his concern became reality.
In that instant, his exhausted, muddled consciousness turned into cold sweat. Jing Mian stiffened abruptly, followed by several seconds of trembling. Even as he was soothed with kisses on his brows, eyes, and nose, tears still spilled uncontrollably.
Passion burned through the night, leaving no room for sleep.
The faint light of dawn seeped into the room, the winter sun casting a gentle glow.
This rented apartment had once been Jing Mian’s alone. Though small, it was fully furnished and meticulously tidy, a testament to the young man who had moved in by himself, seemingly prepared for a long, solitary future.
But last night, the corners of this room had likely been marked with traces that no lone occupant should have left behind.
“…”
Jing Mian’s face slowly burned all the way to his neck.
The slight movement caught Mr. Ren’s attention, and the man’s low, husky voice sounded by his ear: “Awake?”
A cool touch brushed against his hair and forehead, and Jing Mian closed one eye slightly in comfort, murmuring, “Mhm.”
Only then did he realize how hoarse his voice was.
For a fleeting moment, it felt like they had returned to their youth.
The old house, the familiar alleyway, the nights he had spent as a guest, and the brother whose tenderness had woven through his entire childhood.
After a night of reckless passion following their confessions, even the simplest exchange of glances carried sparks and heat. For a moment, it truly felt as if they had fallen headlong into love.
“Sleep a little longer.”
The young man glanced at the clock hanging in the corner of his room, the hands had just settled at seven. His throat dry, Jing Mian asked with a hint of a nasal tone, “How long did I sleep?”
Mr. Ren answered earnestly, “Nearly two hours.”
Jing Mian: “…”
What was the difference between that and pulling an all-nighter?
He should have known.
Checking the time anxiously, afraid he’d wake up in the evening, Jing Mian whispered, “I have to go to the club this afternoon. There’s a notice in the group, the captain has arrangements.”
The man reached out and ruffled his hair. “I’ll take you there.”
Jing Mian’s lashes fluttered.
He instinctively glanced aside and noticed that the clothes scattered on the floor last night had already been tidied up. The few that couldn’t be worn again had been washed and neatly hung by the window.
Despite being utterly exhausted, his body was clean and dry, and even under the blankets, he felt soft and comfortable. As always, the man had cleaned him up afterward.
Jing Mian’s eyes were red at the corners as he curled up under the covers, too lazy to even lift a finger.
After a while, his eyelids grew heavy, and the young man drifted back into a hazy sleep for a few more hours. He woke again to the sound of his alarm.
Jing Mian propped himself up, his lashes still heavy with sleep, and murmured softly,
“I need to get up.”
It sounded like he was speaking to himself, or perhaps to his husband.
Hearing the sound, the man got up and poured a cup of warm water. But by the time he reached the bedside, he found the little one had already burrowed back under the covers, his lashes relaxed.
The corner of the man’s lips curled imperceptibly as he leaned down, his voice deep. “Should you take the day off?”
Jing Mian opened his eyes and quickly shook his head. “I can go.”
With Glory’s global tournament approaching, the team hadn’t even fully recovered from the national competition before a new wave of tension and excitement had already taken hold. These days, everyone was preparing, and no one could afford to miss it.
No one wanted to win the upcoming matches more than he did.
Jing Mian was lifted into a sitting position.
While washing up, his thighs trembled involuntarily. He had to brace himself against the sink to keep his knees from buckling.
Then, the young man returned to the bedside, where Mr. Ren helped him into his socks and shoes, followed by his clothes. Finally, he was wrapped in a thick coat, the collar snug around his jaw and the hem nearly reaching his thighs. The man’s slender, well-defined hands lifted him up.
Before leaving, he made sure the door was locked.
The driver was already waiting downstairs.
Outside, a faint snow had begun to fall, starting that very morning.
It turned out this year’s first snow had arrived just one night later than last year’s.
As the street scenes slowly receded outside the window, the car moved smoothly. Jing Mian’s eyelids drooped halfway, and he couldn’t resist dozing off again.
Mr. Ren held the little one in his arms, his gaze fixed on his phone as he seemed to be handling work matters.
In a place Jing Mian couldn’t see, the man’s eyes paused on the screen.
Chen Ke had sent a WeChat message, a video titled Uncut Full Version.MP4.
Soon, more messages from Chen Ke followed.
Chen Ke: [Brother Ren, found it!]
Chen Ke: [This is the clearest, best-angle footage from a passerby, the full five minutes.]
Chen Ke: [Video]
Ren Xingwan picked up his earphones. After only a brief hesitation, he tapped on the video.
Loading… playback—
The progress bar began counting.
The last remnants of sunset lingered as night silently descended over the beach.
At first, the video captured the sea, then the cruise ship, before the lens slowly turned toward the giant screen in the square.
“Husband, happy birthday.”
At the bottom of the page, the signature was smaller and slightly blurred, but still legible—
“From your secretly loving little one.”
The scene was lively and noisy, a bit chaotic, but the camera remained steady.
The lens recorded the entire burst of fireworks.
Light and shadow reflected in the man’s pupils, blooming brilliantly.
Finally, the view shifted away from the square and the beach. The passerby seemed to intend to pan the camera around, capturing every detail of the moment.
As the lens swept inadvertently past a tree-lined path, a young figure entered the frame, only to disappear just as quickly.
Ren Xingwan paused the video.
Rewinding, tracing back, until it slowly froze on a single frame.
Jing Mian stood in the frame, looking up. The dazzling interplay of light and shadow flickered across his face, his eyes shimmering with confusion, and hidden disappointment.
The screen’s light dimmed.
Everything that happened in Yan City seemed to come to an abrupt halt here.
The train compartment fell back into silence, the little one sleeping soundly.
After a long while, a cool touch pressed against Jing Mian’s forehead, his soft, disheveled hair strands brushing against it. Jing Mian’s eyelashes fluttered slightly as he faintly heard a man’s voice, so light and quiet that he almost thought it was an illusion from his drowsy haze:
“I received it.”
ME. Base.
After five hours of continuous training, the team took a short break. Xuan Rui had ordered takeout, and they gathered around a table with fries and chicken wings placed on aluminum foil in the center, along with two pizzas. Each held a burger and an iced Coke, chatting as they ate.
“Doesn’t it feel like MianMian is extra sleepy today?”
Xuan Rui nodded. “Yeah, the moment break time started, he just flopped onto the table and fell asleep.”
“Probably didn’t rest well last night.”
The lounge hadn’t been fully cleaned due to ongoing renovations, so during the break, the young man dozed off on a recliner Xuan Cheng had prepared for him. He rested his head on a blue whale plush pillow, its tail curled around his neck, his lashes relaxed as he slept deeply.
Red Hair raised an eyebrow, looking smug. “I bought that whale pillow. Didn’t expect it to suit MianMian so well.”
Chen Xi gulped her iced Coke and thumped her chest. “Thank you, I’m dying from the cuteness.”
Cen Xian remarked, “Wasn’t it Ren Congmian’s birthday yesterday?”
“Birthday?” Xuan Cheng recalled. “Right, my Weibo feed was flooded with posts about it.”
Red Hair said, “Maybe he went out with Teacher Ren to celebrate and got worn out.”
Cen Xian gave Red Hair a deadpan look.
Song Xianyang dipped a fry in sauce and popped it into his mouth. “How many days left until the Global Championship?”
Xuan Cheng counted. “Excluding today, accounting for travel and pre-match procedures, we’ve got exactly twenty-three days left.”
Suddenly, the KFC on the table didn’t taste as good.
Having narrowly missed the championship in the national tournament, they were now both nervous and exhilarated. They were likely the team most eager to win the Global Championship, yet everyone knew the competition would be fierce, they’d be facing elite teams and players from around the world, and the difficulty would multiply several times over.
If the national tournament had been this tough, they weren’t sure they could last until the final moments of the global stage.
“The Global Championship roster has been announced.”
“Based on past rules, we’ll probably face the European division first.” Xuan Cheng wiped his hands clean and unlocked his tablet, pulling up a few replays before selecting the most representative one. “Aside from the other three teams, the current European favorite is mox, aggressive playstyle, fast tempo.”
On the screen, a compilation of high-level plays flashed by, accompanied by the commentators’ excited shouts, sending chills down everyone’s spines.
A few minutes later, the food on the table lost its appeal.
Song Xianyang noticed the key point. “The highlight is that new player mox just recruited.”
“Right, that brown-haired, blue-eyed ZLE.”
“Heard he’s mox’s top priority, guaranteed a starting spot. His playstyle’s brutal.”
“Seriously strong.”
“Carried the team straight to the European finals.”
What went unspoken was that this team had always been a championship favorite, even without this newcomer, the remaining members were enough to keep ME. under so much pressure they’d lose sleep.
Song Xianyang had less practical experience than anyone present. Watching the screen, his palms turned cold with dread as he muttered gloomily, “If we face them in the first match, we’d be downright unlucky.”
Cen Xian said, “If we aim for the championship, it’s inevitable sooner or later.”
Xuan Cheng agreed, “There’s no avoiding it.”
The boy who had woken up at some point took a sip of cola and murmured softly, “Facing them doesn’t matter.”
The slightly nasal-voiced youngster parted his lips lightly and said, “We’ll win.”
Late at night.
Jing Mian was picked up by Mr. Ren and taken back to Maple Leaf.
Although the wind and snow outside had subsided, the boy had genuinely been adrift for three days. Returning home, every cell in his body relaxed.
For the first time, he felt such a strong sense of belonging, and for the first time, he had missed home.
Wherever his husband was, that became his home.
After showering, Jing Mian burrowed warmly into the blankets. The man didn’t seem intent on pulling him out of his drowsiness, so Jing Mian sighed in relief, hugging the whale pillow his teammate had given him, and sank into a deep sleep.
In the night, the whale pillow was gently tugged away.
And tossed to the foot of the bed.
In its place, the boy was enveloped by a familiar scent. His lashes fluttered slightly as he unconsciously nuzzled closer, tightening his arms around Mr. Ren’s neck and chest.
“My answer is in that letter.”
The boy’s voice echoed in his ears.
Just moments ago, Ren Xingwan had gone to the study and opened the third drawer of the storage cabinet.
That letter had been left by MianMian during his episode at the national tournament. Later, when he went to the seaside and left his beloved behind, the assistant had asked the man what to do with the letter. He had said, “Throw it away.”
That was a long time ago now.
So long that the farewell letter had remained unopened by anyone until this day.
Yet, when the third drawer was pulled open, beneath the velvet box holding the star bracelet, a slightly yellowed sheet of paper lay quietly, its corners faintly curled.
The man had never thrown it away.
In the dim light, Ren Xingwan unfolded the letter. Familiar handwriting greeted his eyes as he read every word, slowly, until the very last one.
Mr. Ren stared at the sentence at the bottom of the page, his palm trembling slightly. Wordless and reverent, he gazed at it for a long, long time.
Until the clock hands turned deep into the night.
…
The man read the farewell letter.
Reading as his beloved poured out love he had never known.