无题

The Warmth of the Night

The warmth of dinner still lingered as the seven of them strolled back to the guesthouse along the cobblestone path. The night was ink-dark, yet far from gloomy—it softened the silhouette of the old town into something almost tender. Red lanterns flickered to life beneath the eaves, one by one, casting warm amber halos against the deep blue sky. Their reflections shimmered in the slow-moving river below, like a constellation of fallen stars swaying gently with the current.

The bustle of daytime had faded completely. Now, the town was so still you could hear your own breath. Once in a while, a late-returning wooden boat would glide past, its oar breaking the river's reflection of light before silence settled back in. The air carried the cool scent of river water mingled with the faint sweetness of osmanthus drifting from somewhere far away.

Back at the guesthouse courtyard, the owner had already set out several plain white river lanterns and a small box of candles. "Tonight is the town's blessing night," she said with a smile. "Making a wish with a river lantern is said to be very lucky."

"River lanterns!" Song Yaxuan's eyes lit up at once, as if stars had fallen into them.

Everyone gathered around eagerly. The lanterns were simple lotus shapes, made of thin paper. Ding Chengxin picked one up carefully, his fingertips brushing lightly along the edge of the petals, while Ma Jiaqi steadied the little candle base beside him.

"A-Cheng, what are you wishing for?" Ma Jiaqi asked softly, his voice unusually clear in the night.

Ding Chengxin glanced up at him, a smile tugging at his lips, then shook his head. "If I say it out loud, it won't come true."

He lit the candle with quiet focus. The warm glow lit up half his face and the fine brightness in his eyes. Gently, he set the lantern into the small waterway at the back of the guesthouse and watched it drift away, swaying until it melted into the flowing river of light.

Yan Haoxiang and He Junlin chose another lantern together. He Junlin held the pen and carefully wrote a few small words on one of the petals before letting Yan Haoxiang help him light the candle. Yan Haoxiang glanced down at what he had written, but He Junlin immediately covered it with his hand.

"Don't look!"

Yan Haoxiang chuckled softly and didn't press further. Still, his gaze followed the lantern carrying He Junlin's wish all the way until it disappeared around the bend.

Zhang Zhenyuan set his own lantern down quietly, pressed his palms together, and closed his eyes for a moment, his expression calm and sincere.

Song Yaxuan and Liu Yaowen crowded together over one lantern. Song Yaxuan was in charge of writing the wish, while Liu Yaowen clumsily tried to fix the candle more securely.

"Yaowen'er, be gentle—the candle's going to tilt!" Song Yaxuan whispered, his shoulder brushing against Liu Yaowen's.

"I know, I know," Liu Yaowen muttered, only for his fingers to accidentally brush the back of Song Yaxuan's hand. Both of them paused for a moment, then continued as if nothing had happened.

When everything was ready, they carried the lantern between them to a quieter set of stone steps by the river. Many visitors and locals were already releasing their own lanterns, and their little flames had gathered into a warm ribbon of light, drifting slowly into the distance.

Song Yaxuan crouched down and placed the lantern gently onto the water. It wobbled, then steadied. Just as he was about to stand, Liu Yaowen's hand reached over beneath the cover of his loose sleeve and found his without hesitation.

Their cool fingertips touched, then curled together, fingers lacing tightly.

Song Yaxuan's heartbeat skipped. He turned his head, and in the lantern light, he saw Liu Yaowen looking at him. The river shimmered in his eyes, bright and startling. Liu Yaowen's fingers scratched lightly against his palm, carrying the kind of mischief and closeness only a young man would dare.

They said nothing. They only crouched there by the river, watching their lantern carry its small flame—and perhaps their shared wish—into the bright current, drifting toward somewhere unknown.

The night breeze passed over them, cool from the river, yet it could not scatter the warmth between their joined hands. Around them was the quiet town, the soft sound of water, the distant murmur of laughter. Between them, there was only the pressure of each other's fingers and the kind of understanding that needed no words.

The Terrace

After releasing the lanterns, they returned to the guesthouse. The night had grown late.

To avoid disturbing the others, Ma Jiaqi and Ding Chengxin quietly slipped around to the small back terrace. It faced the river directly, and far away, a few river lanterns still glowed, unwilling to go out.

The night wind was cool. Ding Chengxin had just lifted his arms when a jacket, still warm from body heat, settled over his shoulders. He turned and met Ma Jiaqi's deep eyes.

"A-Cheng."

Ma Jiaqi's voice was soft, scattered slightly by the wind, and all the more tender for it.

Before Ding Chengxin could answer, Ma Jiaqi leaned down and kissed him. It was not like the restrained kiss beneath the bridge during the day; this one carried the indulgence and depth unique to night. Ding Chengxin closed his eyes obediently, his arms looping around Ma Jiaqi's neck as they exchanged breath in the stillness.

Just as they were lost in each other, the sliding door from the terrace to the living room clicked softly.

Liu Yaowen had only come out to find Song Yaxuan and ask for a bottle of water. Instead, the moment he pushed the door open, he saw two figures tangled together in the corner.

He froze. The empty cup in his hand nearly slipped.

Ma Jiaqi reacted instantly. He released Ding Chengxin at once and turned to shield him, a flash of displeasure in his eyes at being interrupted. But when he saw it was Liu Yaowen, his expression smoothed into calm.

Liu Yaowen awkwardly rubbed his nose, his gaze darting everywhere except where it should be.

"Uh… I was looking for water. You guys continue. Pretend I didn't see anything."

Then he shut the door with a soft bang, moving as fast as if fleeing some great disaster.

The Living Room

In the living room, Song Yaxuan was sitting cross-legged on the rug, drinking yogurt. When Liu Yaowen burst in like a startled rabbit, his expression complicated, Song Yaxuan tilted his head curiously.

"What happened? Is there a ghost outside?"

Liu Yaowen leaned against the door and inhaled deeply. His mind was still full of what he had just seen—Ma Jiaqi pressing Ding Chengxin against the railing, Ding Chengxin's arms wrapped around Ma Jiaqi's neck.

Too… too much.

He turned, his gaze landing on Song Yaxuan's face. A ring of yogurt clung to the corner of his mouth like a white mustache. Song Yaxuan blinked up at him, his lips pink and soft-looking.

The shock of what he had just witnessed was still too strong, and the night had turned the room intimate in a way that made everything feel closer. Some small flame inside Liu Yaowen suddenly caught.

He walked over and crouched in front of Song Yaxuan until their eyes were level.

"Yaowen'er?" Song Yaxuan shrank back a little, unsettled by the way he was being stared at. "What are you doing?"

Liu Yaowen didn't answer. He only watched his lips, his Adam's apple moving once. Then he leaned in, his warm breath brushing Song Yaxuan's face, his voice low and rough.

"Yaxuan."

"Mm?"

"Kiss me."

Song Yaxuan blinked. Then, as if he had heard something ridiculous, he pressed his hand against Liu Yaowen's approaching face and pushed him away without mercy.

"No."

His refusal was clean and decisive. He even took a tissue and wiped the yogurt from the corner of his mouth.

"My mouth tastes weird after eating."

Liu Yaowen leaned back from the push, then leaned in again, stubbornness in his eyes.

"I don't mind."

"I mind." Song Yaxuan set the yogurt cup on the coffe