The overhead incandescent light shone brightly, illuminating every detail in the dorm room.
Bo Jin sat on the edge of the bed, leaning against the railing, his lashes lowered to hide his expression. His deep-set features made it hard to guess what he was thinking. With his impassive face, he seemed more aloof and distant than usual, nothing like the carefree, nonchalant person everyone knew.
An oppressive silence filled the room.
Xie Ruan didn’t speak or move.
Bo Jin closed his eyes, patiently waiting for the final blow.
In truth, there were ways he could have managed tonight’s situation to ensure it passed without issue.
He knew Xie Ruan too well. Though Xie often put up a cold front, in reality, he was overwhelmingly kind-hearted. He couldn’t even bear to watch videos of stray cats suffering online, let alone turn his back on someone close to him.
If he had just shown a little more sadness, maybe brought up his own sorrowful past, Xie Ruan would have undoubtedly softened. Bo Jin could bet that if he had played his cards right, Xie would’ve felt even closer to him, maybe even cherished him more deeply from that day forward.
But Bo Jin couldn’t bring himself to do it.
He couldn’t bear to manipulate him, to make him unhappy, or to make him sacrifice his own future because of a fleeting moment of compassion.
Xie Ruan was his first and his last love.
He was so, so good. He deserved the best in everything, whether in life or in love.
He shouldn’t have to compromise for anyone—not even for himself.
His chest tightened, as if a wet lump of cotton was blocking his airways, making it hard to breathe. Bo Jin chuckled self-mockingly, realizing that for someone who had always been so unreasonable, he was unexpectedly gentlemanly tonight.
In the past…
Bo Jin swallowed hard. In the past, he wouldn’t have cared about the consequences or the future. If his boyfriend was about to walk away, he’d do whatever it took to hold onto him, no second thoughts.
But the more he cared, the more cautious he became.
He feared that Xie Ruan might only feel pity, that he’d be uncomfortable staying by his side, that he’d do things against his own will—or that he might later regret everything.
This is how it would be. No matter what Xie Ruan decided, he’d respect it. Bo Jin told himself this, but his clenched fists betrayed his inner turmoil.
Each passing second of waiting was agony.
He knew he was teetering on the edge of a cliff, ready to shatter. And yet, deep down, he harbored a faint hope that he barely dared acknowledge.
What if?
What if there was still some slim path he could walk?
He forced himself not to look at Xie Ruan, even as his breathing grew quiet and shallow.
One minute. Two minutes…
Bo Jin had lost track of time, his heart hanging by a thread, each second heavier than the last, as if even a single snowflake could shatter him.
Then, he heard the soft click of the light switch.
The room plunged into darkness, and Bo Jin’s heart sank fully into despair.
Despite his best efforts to prepare for this, the moment still washed over him with a wave of pain and bitterness.
Why?
Why did it have to be him? For nineteen years, he’d grown like a wildflower, taking whatever scraps life tossed his way. He hadn’t done anything wrong, hadn’t crossed any moral lines—just loved someone and wanted to share a life together. Why was that so hard?
Scenes from his time with Xie Ruan flashed vividly through his mind as if it were just yesterday. He could remember every one of Xie Ruan’s expressions—happy, angry, embarrassed…
The veins on the back of his hand bulged. He was barely able to suppress the urge to reach out and stop Xie Ruan.
To pull him close, to hold him tight so he couldn’t leave, so he’d be Bo Jin’s forever.
But Xie Ruan had turned off the light.
Bo Jin’s eyes reddened, forcing himself to quash that impulse.
He’d promised not to push, not to use tricks, to respect his choice. And he intended to keep that promise.
He heard faint footsteps.
It was as if his soul had been split in two, one part filled with unbearable sorrow, the other watching indifferently. This was what he’d expected, so why did it still feel so hollow?
For the first time in his life, Bo Jin, who’d always been resilient as steel, wished he could escape.
If only this were a dream, he thought. Then he could wake up, and everything would be back to normal.
He’d still be him, and Xie Ruan would still be the boy who liked him and wanted to study at the same college with him.
But the pain suffusing his entire being reminded him that this was real. There was no escaping it.
Bo Jin sat on the bed without moving, his tall frame blending into the darkness.
The footsteps came closer, step by step.
They were almost at the door; the dorm wasn’t that large, after all.
As that thought crossed his mind, Bo Jin realized something strange.
Why were the footsteps drawing closer?
The light switch was near the wall; after turning it off, Xie Ruan should’ve been able to leave directly. There was no need for him to take another step forward.
Bo Jin’s heart pounded wildly, echoing loudly in his chest.
So… Xie Ruan was—
He restrained himself from thinking about it, but that bit of hope he had tried so hard to suppress stirred restlessly, quickly filling his whole heart.
The footsteps soon stopped, and Bo Jin felt someone standing next to him.
The dorm was quiet, not even a hint of a breeze, but he could smell Xie Ruan’s scent—a light lemon fragrance, fresh and pleasant.
Bo Jin was a bit of a clean freak. Even though Sun Haoxiang and the others were very close to him, he still couldn’t stand them sitting directly on his bed.
Boys around seventeen or eighteen weren’t exactly meticulous, especially around their friends. After sports, they’d just splash some water on their faces, but that lingering smell of sweat was impossible to mask.
But Xie Ruan was different.
No matter how casual Xie Ruan was, Bo Jin always found him clean and refreshing. His sweat wasn’t unpleasant but rather full of youthful energy. For Bo Jin, cleanliness didn’t even matter at that point—he just wanted to hold him close and kiss him.
Bo Jin didn’t know what had come over him; all his principles could bend for Xie Ruan. He found himself captivated by every little thing about him, even his unchangeable quirks seemed adorable.
Feeling Xie Ruan’s presence so near, Bo Jin’s Adam’s apple bobbed unconsciously.
Though he grew up in an orphanage, Bo Jin was good-looking and smart. The elders liked him, and his peers respected him. He’d rarely faced something he couldn’t get if he set his mind to it.
This fostered his easygoing, unconcerned approach to life.
His first day at school, his first time on stage, his first competition abroad, his first interview with a reporter—things that seemed monumental to others barely registered with him.
He was confident, even strong enough to brush everything off.
But tonight, on this seemingly ordinary evening, he felt nervous for the first time.
“Bo Jin.”
His heart pounded as he heard Xie Ruan’s voice.
The voice was strained, as if each word was squeezed out one by one, sounding quite angry.
Bo Jin tensed, then understood.
Xie Ruan was probably mad—rightfully so, considering Bo Jin had kept such a huge secret from him.
It would be odd if he weren’t angry. With a different temperament, someone else might have slapped him by now.
Xie Ruan was at least giving him some grace.
“I’m sorry,” Bo Jin said with a slight smile. In the dark, he couldn’t see Xie Ruan’s expression, but he let his gaze trace the familiar lines of his face. “At first, I just didn’t know how to tell you. Then…”
He paused, and in typical Bo Jin style, added, “Then I decided to deceive you on purpose.”
At this point, there was no need to hide anything anymore.
He truly did intend to keep this from Xie Ruan for as long as possible.
Hearing Xie Ruan’s breathing intensify, even though he was prepared, Bo Jin still felt a tightness in his chest.
A hot, burning pain seemed lodged in his throat, searing down to his heart. He lowered his gaze, concealing his real emotions, and smiled faintly. “If you’re really that angry, just hit me. What do they say? Nothing a good punch can’t fix, and if one punch doesn’t work, maybe two will—”
“Shut up!”
Bo Jin obeyed, his fingers trembling slightly, his forced calm vanishing instantly.
Suddenly, his collar was grabbed. Startled, he looked up and met Xie Ruan’s intense gaze.
Those eyes were blazing, like tiny flames flickering in the darkness, piercing straight through to him.
Clearly, he was truly furious. Bo Jin chuckled, offering no resistance and letting Xie Ruan pull him to his feet.
Though Xie Ruan had once been notorious at school, often getting into fights and giving teachers endless headaches, in terms of physical strength, he was no match for Bo Jin.
An orphanage is no peaceful place, especially not the ones from twenty years ago, when regulations weren’t as well-enforced. Just being clever wasn’t enough to survive or become the leader among the kids.
But—
Bo Jin lowered his gaze, imprinting every detail of Xie Ruan’s expression in his mind.
No matter what, he would never lay a finger on Xie Ruan. Besides, he was the one at fault here. If taking a beating could calm Xie Ruan, he’d accept it willingly.
“You… d*mn idiot…” Xie Ruan’s voice choked with emotion, and Bo Jin didn’t even need to look to know he was hurting.
He lifted his hand, instinctively wanting to pat Xie’s head like he always did.
Maybe it was due to his family background, but though Xie Ruan appeared tough, he was actually sensitive. Bo Jin had noticed long ago that physical contact helped him feel safer.
So he would always find little reasons to touch him whenever he could.
But suddenly, as if thinking better of it, he let his hand fall midway.
“You idiot!”
Xie Ruan’s low voice interrupted his movement.
Bo Jin froze, just about to say something, when the grip on his collar tightened abruptly.
Instinctively, he bent down, bracing for a punch.
But in the next instant, his eyes widened.
In the darkness, Xie Ruan lifted his head and, with a fierce determination, pressed his lips against Bo Jin’s.
