By Zephyria 
Jing Mian’s pupils slowly constricted.
The two locked eyes amidst the endless fireworks.
The sounds of the bursting fireworks seemed to fade away, leaving only an indescribable astonishment in Jing Mian’s eyes. In the silence that enveloped them, all he could hear was the fierce pounding of his own heartbeat.
His mind went completely blank in that moment.
For a second, he thought he had misheard.
What had Mr. Ren just said?
Even if there were infinite possibilities in parallel universes, Jing Mian could never have anticipated these words. His first instinct was denial.
Just as he began to wonder if the noise of the fireworks had distorted the meaning, leaving him speechless and hesitant, Ren Xingwan’s light-colored eyes gazed at him. Without giving the boy any room or opportunity to imagine other ambiguous possibilities, he repeated calmly and plainly:
“I like you.”
He seemed to think for a moment before adding in a low voice,
“Added up, it seems to far surpass just ‘like.'”
“You are more important to me than everything I possess, including myself.” As the man leaned in, he blocked out a corner of the illuminated night sky, and the light in Jing Mian’s eyes dimmed as well. Mr. Ren paused before murmuring softly, “I think… I love you.”
“You once asked me if I had any regrets.”
Ren Xingwan pressed his lips together briefly, the faint glow brushing against their thin edges, before answering in a deep voice:
“Of course I do.”
“I regret the twelve years we spent apart.”
“Thinking of you eating alone, studying at school, living alone in a rented apartment, seeing the doctor alone, taking medicine alone.”
“Not being by your side during those years is a regret I will never be able to let go of.”
“A few years ago, I was injured in a power struggle and paralyzed from the waist down. The doctors told me I would never walk again.” The man’s expression remained unchanged as he recounted this unimaginable past in a few understated words. He lowered his gaze and said quietly, “At that time, I truly believed I would spend the rest of my life in a wheelchair.”
“So the time I spent missing you became unbearably long.”
He spoke each word deliberately:
“And it made me question my decision to leave you back then, over and over again.”
…
Jing Mian clenched his fists.
His breath hitched, yet his gaze remained fixed on Ren Xingwan, unable to look away even for a second. His throat tightened as he stared at the man.
“MianMian.”
“I once heard that marriage is a shackle. Before proposing our arranged marriage, I worried it might scare you.”
Mr. Ren fell silent for a moment before murmuring softly, “But to me, that metaphor makes no sense.”
“If it is a shackle, I would gladly be trapped in it with you.”
“No matter how long.”
The man’s voice grew quieter:
“Because it’s you.”
At this moment, Jing Mian’s lips trembled, his throat clogged with emotion.
The endless sounds of fireworks failed to drown out his husband’s confession.
The faint ringing in his ears and the surreal lightness beneath his feet reminded the boy that this was all truly happening. Jing Mian could no longer find excuses to convince himself he had misheard because this was a confession with no room for retreat.
Sincere and fervent, yet spoken in Mr. Ren’s usual composed tone, firm and almost unreserved, expressing a love that had grown wild and unrestrained.
Perhaps there had been signs before.
But Jing Mian had refused to notice, too afraid to believe. After all, he didn’t need much courage to walk his path alone, he had done so for over a decade. But to believe again that he would never be alone anymore, that was what truly terrified him.
After all, he had never been the preferred choice.
Jing Mian was grateful to Mr. Ren because the man had broken through all obstacles to pick up the discarded, battered, and half-dead version of himself, the one no one else wanted.
But he was still far from deserving “love.”
That was a word that would never be associated with the young man.
Until Mr. Ren flipped to the answer, pointed to that page, and softly told him.
Not only could he—
But that long-buried answer had been his, and his alone.
Jing Mian’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly. The tremors of the fireworks tugged at his heart, his breath unsteady and faintly cool. The young man remained silent for a long time.
“I’m a selfish husband.” Mr. Ren lowered his gaze, his thick, long lashes bathed in the interplay of light and shadow, his voice deep. “So I don’t want you to remain in the dark, only realizing my feelings on some random day when we’ve grown old.”
“Ours was a marriage of convenience.”
“But in truth, spending my life with you was my own selfish desire.”
In this secluded corner, his voice grew even clearer, resonating with quiet intensity.
Yet gradually, Jing Mian noticed that, silhouetted against the night sky, Mr. Ren seemed bathed in light, his hair, his profile, all exquisitely soft and handsome.
“From the moment you came of age, I never had a second option.”
Mr. Ren paused, his voice gentler this time:
“You will always be my first choice.”
The man’s breathing was steady, and now, even his deep, magnetic voice carried a tender solemnity,
“Even without the arranged marriage, even if I weren’t your brother, even if I met you unprepared, you would still be my first choice.”
“Jing Mian, you are my destiny.”
The last firework soared to its peak, blooming soundlessly behind Mr. Ren, painting the entire night sky.
“I was born for you.”