TLDMDTBS Chapter 22

Chapter 22

When he woke up again, the ceiling before him was still white, but it was no longer the bright one from the campus hospital. No lights were on, and it wasn’t blinding.

Ji Ruan was stunned for a moment, and despite feeling dizzy, he immediately tapped the bed in an attempt to create some sound.

But it still seemed unclear.

A heavy fear surged in Ji Ruan’s heart as he struggled to get up, but was pressed back down by a pair of hands holding his shoulders.

The warmth of those hands was very familiar, and even through the hospital gown, it brought Ji Ruan a sense of security.

Gu Xiuyi’s face appeared in front of him, with a straight nose and thin lips. His expression was as calm as usual, but his fingers gently rubbed Ji Ruan’s ear and placed an external device behind his ear.

When the sound flooded into his ears, Ji Ruan instinctively inhaled sharply, and then he heard the sound of rain outside the window.

“Shh, it’s alright,” Gu Xiuyi’s palm rested on his ear, his voice clear and pleasant: “Can you hear me?”

The joy of regaining his hearing was akin to being reborn. Ji Ruan felt a sting in his nose and tentatively responded with a soft “mm.”

He could even hear his own voice now!

Ji Ruan smiled, feeling so moved… it made him want to cry.

But he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of Gu Xiuyi.

Seeing Ji Ruan’s expression of wanting to cry but holding it back, Gu Xiuyi couldn’t help but chuckle, sitting down beside the bed: “Relax, don’t cry.”

Ji Ruan rubbed his nose, taking a deep breath to stabilize his emotions, but he still felt a bit wronged: “I couldn’t hear before…”

Having been in this world for such a long time, he had gotten used to still being able to hear some vague sounds even without the external device, at least he could feel the words he spoke.

But on that day, when he opened his mouth, his vocal cords vibrated, and though he should have been speaking loudly, he heard nothing but deafening noise, like a building collapsing.

“Did it scare you? Back then.” Gu Xiuyi asked softly.

Ji Ruan looked at him for a moment without dodging: “Of course.”

The fear of that moment was something he could never express in words, nor could he ever get used to it.

“There’s no need to be afraid anymore,” Gu Xiuyi leaned close, gently tapping the protruding temporal bone behind Ji Ruan’s right ear: “Did it hurt here at that time?”

His touch was particularly accurate; when the warmth of his fingertip reached behind Ji Ruan’s ear, it was like awakening yesterday’s spasms, causing a sharp pain. Ji Ruan instinctively shuddered and closed his eyes: “Mm… why would it be like this?”

“You had an implant surgery for a cochlear implant,” Gu Xiuyi retracted his hand: “It’s severe tinnitus and nerve pain caused by fever; it’s fine now.”

“Really?” Ji Ruan opened his eyes, his gaze a bit unfocused.

When he suddenly couldn’t hear, he thought there was something seriously wrong with his ear and had already imagined needing to go under the knife again or becoming deaf and mute for the rest of his life. Now, reflecting on it made his back chill, yet Gu Xiuyi spoke of it so lightly.

“Don’t overthink it.” Gu Xiuyi seemed to see through his thoughts and helplessly curled his lips: “The doctor said it’s not serious; just try to avoid getting sick and having fevers in the future. That kind of nerve pain isn’t good for your body.”

He grew a bit serious: “Got it?”

Ji Ruan buried his chin in the quilt, said nothing, and with wide eyes, nodded slowly.

But he didn’t want to get sick either! The sudden thunderstorm wasn’t even mentioned in the weather forecast, and he could no longer predict it. After getting soaked in the rain, he had taken medicine at Gu Xiuyi’s house that evening, and even wore long sleeves and took medicine on time the next day, yet he still couldn’t avoid the fever.

Seeing Ji Ruan looking a bit dejected, Gu Xiuyi, after a moment of silence, spoke: “Don’t think about it. The doctor said if you don’t have a fever again, you can be discharged in the afternoon, and you’ll even be able to go home for the Mid-Autumn Festival.”

“That fast?” Ji Ruan was surprised; his body had never been able to withstand this kind of torment, so how could it be doing so well this time…

He pursed his lips: “But honestly speaking, I still feel a bit weak…”

Gu Xiuyi replied calmly: “When were you not weak?”

Ji Ruan: “…”

Truly sharp and to the point.

“Alright, I won’t tease you anymore,” Gu Xiuyi smiled, helping Ji Ruan to sit up against the head of the bed: “You haven’t eaten in a day; how can you not be weak?”

He poured a glass of warm water for Ji Ruan, who took small sips. His dry throat felt momentarily uncomfortable when encountering the warm water. He stopped for a moment, furrowing his brows, but once the warm water fully moistened his throat, he relaxed.

Both of Ji Ruan’s hands had been pricked for IVs; one still had the IV drip, while the other had bled a bit when the needle was removed yesterday and was now taped up, with the back of his hand slightly swollen.

Gu Xiuyi’s gaze landed on Ji Ruan’s slender fingers, and for a moment, both of them fell silent.

The hospital room door was gently pushed open, and Aunt Zhao carefully peeked in. Upon seeing that Ji Ruan had woken up and was sitting up, her face lit up with delight.

“How are you, Ruan Ruan? Feeling better?” she walked in and placed a thermal bag on the little table.

“I’m fine now.” Ji Ruan smiled, his eyes curving warmly as he looked at Aunt Zhao, “Just seems I’m a little hungry.”

“Oh, how sweet!” Aunt Zhao laughed, opening the thermal bag: “I’ve brought you some food.”

Ji Ruan immediately focused on the thermal flask in the bag, and even without opening the lid, he seemed able to smell its fragrance.

“Are you that hungry?” Aunt Zhao watched Ji Ruan’s eager gaze and chuckled, taking out a small bowl to serve a portion.

It looked like ordinary porridge, but the aroma was very rich. Ji Ruan, starved, felt his mouth water just from the smell.

“The doctor said you need to eat something light,” Aunt Zhao handed Ji Ruan the small bowl and spoon, sitting beside him: “But I thought, drinking plain porridge isn’t very nutritious; look at you, you’re almost losing all your weight.”

She giggled, half covering her mouth: “So, I added some bone broth and minced meat; it’s fragrant! Now, this is real food!”

As Ji Ruan listened, he couldn’t wait to scoop up a small spoonful, blowing on it gently before cautiously tasting it. The rich broth and minced meat soaked into the grains, and every tender little grain burst deliciously on his tongue. Ji Ruan squinted in delight.

Aunt Zhao must be some kind of culinary goddess…

This pot of porridge was quite a bit, and Ji Ruan couldn’t possibly finish it alone. Gu Xiuyi watched Ji Ruan’s delicate yet satisfied eating and exchanged glances with Aunt Zhao.

Aunt Zhao understood and took out two more bowls from the bag, serving porridge for all three of them, turning their lunch into Ji Ruan’s hospital meal.

During times when Ji Ruan was seriously ill before, he had to control his diet for a long time and could only eat tasteless meals each day.

At that time, eating was never an enjoyable experience for Ji Ruan; the food tasted like wax in his mouth, and many times he would throw up due to stomach pain.

When he was feeling slightly better, he used to have friends bring barbecue and spicy hot pot to visit him in the hospital while he drank plain porridge in bed while they feasted at the table.

It was genuinely painful at that time; thus now, seeing Gu Xiuyi accompany him with porridge and Aunt Zhao jovially chatting, he felt a bit like it was a different world, somewhat sentimentally thinking it felt like a long-awaited reassurance.

After the meal, Ji Ruan took a short nap; this sleep felt exceptionally happy, his stomach warm and his heart filled. He even had a beautiful dream.

In a half-dreaming state, it felt like someone touched his ear, with a warm palm resting next to it, significantly warmer than Ji Ruan’s body, the feeling was very familiar.

That person was very close to him, and Ji Ruan could almost feel the other’s breath lightly brushing his earlobe, then heard a voice, though he didn’t catch it clearly.

“Little Ruan… Ruan Ruan… wake up.”

It seemed a long time passed before someone patted his shoulder. Ji Ruan sleepily opened his eyes, and what came into view was Aunt Zhao’s smiling eyes.

“Wow, you slept so soundly,” Aunt Zhao teased, using the back of her hand to rub Ji Ruan’s cheek: “Your face is all flushed from sleeping. What dream were you having, Little Ruan?”

Ji Ruan shrank further into the quilt, feeling a bit embarrassed: “I can’t remember…”

“Hahaha, still feeling shy, huh? Alright, get up now,” Aunt Zhao teased, brushing Ji Ruan’s forehead: “Time to go home, let’s celebrate the Mid-Autumn Festival.”

Having taken a nap, Ji Ruan’s fever had completely subsided, and he didn’t know when the IV on the back of his hand was taken out.

He got up as Aunt Zhao instructed, washed up, and when he came out of the bathroom, he felt like something was missing, turning his head around.

Aunt Zhao was tidying his clothes and seeing his expression, said: “Are you looking for Xiao Gu? He went back to work.”

“Back to work again?” Ji Ruan was surprised: “The Mid-Autumn Festival is coming soon.”

Aunt Zhao placed the clothes he needed to change into on the bedside: “Isn’t that right? But he never really celebrates holidays. I thought he’d stay home this year since you were here, but he’s still busy.”

“Oh, I see…” Ji Ruan sat down slowly at the edge of the bed.

“It’s fine,” Aunt Zhao smiled: “If he’s not here, we’ll celebrate. It’s just a pity tomorrow is his birthday, and I don’t know if he can come back…”

“Birthday?” Ji Ruan paused while holding his clothes: “He won’t come back for his birthday?”

Aunt Zhao sighed: “Well, it’s hard to say. This year his birthday just so happens to be on the Mid-Autumn Festival, such a good day. I was planning to make longevity noodles.”

Ji Ruan’s head drooped, his fingers unconsciously pinching his lower lip, his eyelashes fluttering like a pondering doll.

Aunt Zhao thought he looked quite amusing and tilted her head to look at him: “What are you thinking, Ruan Ruan?”

“Huh?” Ji Ruan came back to his senses, put down his fingers, and licked his lips: “I was just thinking about what gift to prepare.”

Aunt Zhao’s eyes crinkled with a smile: “As for gifts, the thought is what counts. Whatever you give him, he’ll like it.”

She picked up her bag: “Alright, I’ll head out first. You change your clothes, and we’ll go home, okay?”

“Okay.” Ji Ruan nodded.

After Aunt Zhao closed the door, Ji Ruan didn’t immediately change his clothes. He sat on the edge of the bed, looking troubled.

Gu Xiuyi’s birthday coincidentally landed on the Mid-Autumn Festival. Over these past few days, Gu Xiuyi had treated him quite well. Although it was uncertain whether he would return tomorrow, Ji Ruan felt he ought to prepare something to express his feelings.

But what should he give?

President Gu had seen all kinds of riches; buying something wasn’t meaningful, and Ji Ruan’s little stash of money wasn’t very abundant either.

What could he give that wouldn’t cost money yet wouldn’t seem perfunctory?

Suddenly, Ji Ruan’s eyes brightened, a smile forming on his face as he grabbed his phone from the bedside and sent a message to Han Xiaolin.

·

When Ji Ruan was picked up, it was still the cheerful Zhang Shu, who greeted him with a wave of friendly questions.

Ji Ruan smiled back a few times, fastened his seatbelt, and said, “Zhang Shu, can we stop at my school gate for a moment?”

Back when Gu Xiuyi had carried Ji Ruan away from the school medical room, they had gone directly to the nearest tertiary hospital to Beijing University. Now on the way back to the villa, they would pass by the main gate of Beijing University.

Zhang Shu started driving and laughed, “No problem.”

Aunt Zhao laid a thin blanket over Ji Ruan’s legs and asked, “Is there still something at school?”

“No,” Ji Ruan pulled the blanket up: “It’s just that I asked a classmate to help me bring something out.”

Aunt Zhao nodded knowingly and didn’t pry further.

When Ji Ruan arrived at the school, Han Xiaolin was already waiting at the school gate and handed over a bag when he saw Ji Ruan.

“Why don’t you forget to take your shirt back home during the holiday?” Han Xiaolin joked.

“Stop joking.”

Ji Ruan opened the bag for a look; Gu Xiuyi’s shirt lay neatly inside. He reached in to touch it; it was already dry, and it seemed like changing it out and washing it after returning that night was the right decision. Otherwise, it would have still been worn.

“How’s your health? Are you okay?” Han Xiaolin asked again.

“It’s all good,” Ji Ruan smiled: “So isn’t that a discharge?”

Han Xiaolin clicked his tongue and shook his head: “Your complexion still looks average; your body is rather weak.”

Ji Ruan sighed: “It’s hereditary; it’s not something I can decide.”

Han Xiaolin tugged at Ji Ruan’s ear for an inspection; he still looked delicate and unchanged: “I heard you couldn’t hear at that time; it scared me to death.”

Seeing that Han Xiaolin had a genuinely worried expression, Ji Ruan’s heart warmed: “I’m fine—”

“I was thinking, if you really couldn’t hear, it’d be like you couldn’t speak either. How would we communicate? We can’t always type, right? Would I have to learn sign language for you?” Han Xiaolin complained with his hands in his pockets: “Luckily you can hear again; otherwise, I’d really have to reconsider our friendship.”

Ji Ruan felt the words stuck in his throat. The warmth in his heart turned into a cold expression as he threw the bag at Han Xiaolin, who was rambling on: “Let’s break up! You bad egg!”

Ji Ruan was truly the most delicate friend Han Xiaolin had ever had; even when cursing, he would just say “bad egg.” His voice was limited and couldn’t produce a higher pitch, rather like a refined lady or a little princess.

Han Xiaolin laughed at his own imagination, begging for mercy: “Princess, I was wrong! No breakup; we’ll be good buddies for life!”

Ji Ruan coughed a few times as he exhaled, raising his hand to adjust the external device that had gone askew behind his ear: “Too late, the princess has a bad temper.”

Every gesture indeed carried a hint of elegance.

After saying that, he held the bag and turned to leave, leaving Han Xiaolin laughing so hard he almost choked, while other classmates passed by him to avoid the laughter.

·

In the evening, Ji Ruan finished dinner and asked Aunt Zhao for a sewing kit, then locked himself in his room.

Gu Xiuyi’s shirt was the simplest style, a white shirt, with the only difference being the buttons, which were dark red, resembling beads of blood or gems.

Ji Ruan looked at the shirt for a while, then took out a deep green thread from the sewing kit. He threaded the needle and tied a knot, meticulously stitching a small pattern on the sleeve.

Before entering this book, his family had been engaged in Han embroidery for generations. As a family inheriting this traditional culture, Ji Ruan learned the craft from a young age. Before he got sick, he could embroider an entire bridal outfit by himself; when his sister got married, her wedding dress was embroidered by him and his mother stitch by stitch.

Although this body had never touched a needle before, and his hands felt clumsy, embroidering a small pattern was still within Ji Ruan’s capability, and he didn’t even need a drawing template to start stitching.

That night, until Ji Ruan finished embroidering and hung up the shirt, Gu Xiuyi still had not returned.

The next day, Ji Ruan woke up a bit late; the living room still only had Aunt Zhao, and from that, he could tell that Gu Xiuyi had stayed out all night.

Ji Ruan had long gotten used to life without Gu Xiuyi, following the routine to eat breakfast, feed Xiao An, then accompanying Aunt Zhao to buy groceries. They returned and even learned to make mooncakes together. That night, the two of them sat with Xiao An watching the Mid-Autumn Festival Gala. It was quite fulfilling.

However, after Aunt Zhao went to bed, the entire house fell silent, the lights dimming gradually. As Ji Ruan returned to his room, he suddenly felt a hollowness walking up the stairs.

This feeling of emptiness came quite abruptly, without any warning, and left him rather puzzled.

Ji Ruan stood on the middle of the staircase and gripped the handrail, lost in thought for a while, before turning to look out the window.

A full wall of floor-to-ceiling glass offered a clear view of the yard’s scenery, the branches subtly concealing the bright and full moon above, wrapped in mist, like it was enveloped in ethereal cold smoke.

On an impulse, Ji Ruan turned around and went down to the yard.

The lawn in the yard was beautifully trimmed, with a round table and several stone stools in an area无遮， to see the entire moon unobstructed.

Ji Ruan tilted his head back, dazedly thinking the moon might fall onto his face.

“Buzz, buzz—”

Han Xiaolin sent a video over, still hanging around in the business district, where a flock of pedestrians all looked up at the moon.

Ji Ruan exited the chat interface and opened the camera to snap a photo to send back.

Compared to the bustling downtown Han Xiaolin was in, Ji Ruan thought his own surroundings felt much more peaceful, with the dark sky, the silver moon, and the treetops, forming the entire picture.

Han Xiaolin teased him for wanting to get drunk with the moon.

Ji Ruan chuckled, his fingertips lingering on the screen for a few seconds before he finally sent the image to Gu Xiuyi as well.

The other party should have seen the message, as the chat window briefly displayed “typing…,” but there was no actual reply.

Ji Ruan assumed he was still busy. He put his phone away and leaned on the stone table to continue admiring the moon.

A couple of minutes later, it seemed the sound of a car driving in came from outside the yard. Ji Ruan listened intently for a while before seeing a familiar black sedan parking outside the yard, and when the car door opened, Gu Xiuyi’s jacket appeared intermittently.

Ji Ruan straightened up at the stone table and turned his head to look as the wrought iron gate opened, revealing Gu Xiuyi’s silhouette, still impeccably dressed in a suit, with a straight posture and a tall figure.

He noticed Ji Ruan as well but showed no surprise, striding closer with a steady pace, the hem of his suit slightly billowing in the night breeze.

It was only when he stood in front of Ji Ruan that Ji Ruan relied on the moonlight to see his face more clearly; the dim light made his gaze appear even softer.

“What are you doing outside alone?” Gu Xiuyi asked.

The night breeze was very quiet, and when it reached Ji Ruan’s ears, his voice was particularly clear.

Ji Ruan pointed to the sky: “Can’t sleep, came out to look at the moon.”

Gu Xiuyi held a cake box in his hand, perfectly white with only a blue ribbon adorning it, quite simple.

Ji Ruan was a bit surprised, as in his impression, Gu Xiuyi didn’t seem like someone who would buy a cake to celebrate his own birthday.

Could a businessman who only cared about work 365 days a year suddenly become sentimental and want to celebrate himself on his birthday?

Gu Xiuyi gently placed the cake on the stone table and took out his phone to point it at the moon, almost like he was comparing something.

Ji Ruan found the screen showed the photo he had just sent.

“Still, it looks more beautiful to the naked eye,” Gu Xiuyi remarked.

He seemed relaxed at this moment, his tone casual: “But when you sent the photo, I really thought it was the best.”

He lowered his gaze to Ji Ruan, the arc at the corners of his eyes relaxed: “It turns out it’s because I hadn’t seen it in person.”

No matter how beautiful the photo was, it was just a flower in a mirror or the moon in water, forever inferior to the reality that could be seen, heard, and touched.

It was rare for Gu Xiuyi to be this sentimental, which intrigued Ji Ruan. He smiled and placed a hand on the cake box, looking up at Gu Xiuyi and softly saying, “Happy birthday.”

His words were light, drifting on the wind and landing in Gu Xiuyi’s ear like a feather.

Gu Xiuyi was momentarily taken aback.

Ji Ruan smiled and stood up: “I’ve prepared a gift for you. I’ll go get it now.”

Without waiting for Gu Xiuyi to respond, he headed straight up the gray staircase leading to the second floor; it was a shorter route to his room.

Gu Xiuyi stood still as he watched Ji Ruan’s figure, lost in thought for a while.

The gray staircase had a beautifully curved design, with guiding lights hanging from above every few steps.

Ji Ruan walked up, reminiscent of a little prince in a fairy tale, naively making his way to his own utopia.

After a moment, Gu Xiuyi slowly sat down on the stone stool, gently fiddling with the blue ribbon on the cake box, feeling a tingling sensation in his fingertips.

When Ji Ruan returned, he held a simple paper bag, sitting down in front of Gu Xiuyi with a smile.

“Open it and take a look.” He pushed the bag toward Gu Xiuyi.

Gu Xiuyi complied, pulling out the contents and looking at them in his hand: “My shirt?”

“…”

“Not quite…” Ji Ruan cleared his throat: “Take a closer look.”

A smile formed at the corners of Gu Xiuyi’s eyes as he accurately found the sleeve, seeing the pattern on it: “A tree?”

“Mm.”

Ji Ruan crossed his arms and leaned on the table, resting his chin on his arms. His eyes, under the moonlight, appeared exceptionally beautiful, and this confidence in his craftsmanship made him extraordinarily charming.

Gu Xiuyi gently stroked it with his fingertip; the stitches were fine and the texture smooth: “What tree is this?”

Ji Ruan’s eyes sparkled: “Guess?”

Gu Xiuyi studied the little tree, small yet with lush branches and leaves. The leaves were long and pointed at the end, and one branch leaned down as if something were suspended from it.

And at the bottom was the blood-red button, glossy and translucent, resembling a plump cherry bending the branch down.

But this cherry, compared to the tree’s size, was too large, as if the entire tree had used all its nutrients to bear this one cherry, making it exceptionally plump and sweet.

Gu Xiuyi chuckled at the child-like imagination: “Hmm, a very pretty cherry tree.”

Ji Ruan tilted his head, his cheek against his arm, feeling pleased after the compliment.

“But you can embroider?” Gu Xiuyi said, looking carefully at the cherry tree.

Ji Ruan answered nonchalantly, “I know a lot; you just don’t know.”

Gu Xiuyi smiled, putting the shirt back into the paper bag. When he looked at Ji Ruan again, his expression was very attentive: “Thank you, it’s the best gift.”

Ji Ruan’s lips curled into a smile: “You’re welcome.”

Gu Xiuyi untied the blue ribbon, opened the white box: “Alright, let’s eat the cake now.”

Upon seeing the cake, Ji Ruan sat up straight, amazed: “Another cherry?”

Inside the box was a cake shaped like cherries, two bright red spheres connected by a stem, looking very realistic.

“Mm,” Gu Xiuyi chuckled a bit helplessly: “Today the cherries had a meeting.”

In reality, Gu Xiuyi had never celebrated his birthday. He didn’t believe a birthday was something that needed special remembrance.

Buying this was purely incidental; he happened to see an employee mention a peach-shaped cake that looked almost identical to the real thing, and it sparked the idea that if he ordered a cherry one for Ji Ruan, the child would surely love it.

The fact was, Ji Ruan was so thrilled he looked like his eyes were about to stick to it.

Gu Xiuyi chuckled, grabbing the little boy by his collar and pulling him away from the cake, slicing one of the cherries with a plastic knife and pushing the plate with one piece to Ji Ruan: “Eat up.”

Ji Ruan took a bite with a fork, and the cream was fragrant and not greasy; the sweetness was mild but lingered on the palate for a long time.

He blinked in surprise: “It’s so sweet…”

Gu Xiuyi could also smell the sweetness in the air.

After swallowing the cake, Ji Ruan looked at Gu Xiuyi and suddenly asked: “Did you talk to me when I was sleeping yesterday?”

“What?” Gu Xiuyi ate a piece of cake; it was strange since he didn’t usually like sweets, but today he found it less sweet than usual.

“I mean at the hospital yesterday,” Ji Ruan set down the fork: “Were you speaking near my ear? I think it was four words, but I didn’t catch it clearly.”

Gu Xiuyi should have recalled it. With a smile lingering at the corner of his mouth, he slowly ate his cake: “What do you think?”

Ji Ruan clicked his tongue and turned his eyes away: “Well, I won’t guess.”

“Alright then, I’ll tell you.” Gu Xiuyi quickly gave up: “I told you to eat well.”

He pinched Ji Ruan’s chin: “You’ve lost weight.”

Ji Ruan: “…”

“What’s up…”

The mysterious words that had puzzled him for half a day turned out to be something so unimportant, making Ji Ruan a bit frustrated as he silently ate his cake. Suddenly, his hand stopped, and he frowned.

“What’s wrong?” Gu Xiuyi’s expression tightened, leaning in to check the temperature at Ji Ruan’s neck: “Are you cold? Or feeling unwell?”

“No…” Ji Ruan moved his hand away, looking a bit complicated: “I forgot to let you blow out the candles and make a wish first.”

He glanced at the table; both their cakes had already turned into battle-damaged editions, and there was no way to insert candles anymore.

Gu Xiuyi was surprised for a moment and then relaxed his back: “It’s alright.”

He had never celebrated his birthday, let alone such a trivial matter as blowing out candles.

“Well, it still isn’t appropriate.” Ji Ruan couldn’t shake the feeling that he had ruined a perfect birthday, feeling uncomfortable deep down.

He pulled a candle out from the box: “How about this? I’ll hold it. You make a wish, and then blow it out. It’ll have to do?”

He said this earnestly, the wind blowing his hair into his eyes, which he brushed aside with his fingertips, revealing extraordinarily clear eyebrows and eyes.

Gu Xiuyi gazed at him for quite a while, observing his hair moving in the night wind and his delicate fingers.

“Alright.” After a moment, Gu Xiuyi took out a lighter.

“Click—”

The flame flickered, igniting the candle.

Ji Ruan’s eyebrows and eyes shone in the dim light, as the flame swayed and danced, merging into the wish of the person who was making a wish.