Chapter 6

The days grew hotter, yet the clear, bright skies filled one’s heart with a sense of lightness. Wisps of silken clouds drifted lazily along the horizon, their pale white contrasting beautifully against the deep blue.

On days like these, Qin Yuxuan rarely felt inclined to go to the academy. He always claimed it was a waste of such fine weather to be cooped up in a place of dull, pedantic teachings. If he wasn’t at home composing poetry or painting, he would call on Xiao Ye to prepare fruits and small dishes for an afternoon picnic.

Xiao Ye glanced at the sun today—it was especially scorching. The air outside was thick with humidity, oppressive and stifling. As expected, Qin Yuxuan showed no intention of going out after breakfast. Instead, he simply lounged lazily nearby, sipping tea and letting his thoughts drift.

By the desk, Xiao Ye ground ink for a while, thinking Qin Yuxuan would come over soon. Just as he turned around, his nose almost brushed against a firm chest. Startled, he took a step back—only for the other man to lean in close and whisper softly in his ear, “Xiao Ye, can you write?”

Embarrassed, he shook his head, afraid Qin Yuxuan might think less of him. But the man only chuckled, his clear voice laced with a smile. “Then I’ll teach you.”

Their hands overlapped as they held the slender brush together. Warm breath brushed against Xiao Ye's ear, sending a delicate tremor through him.

It took all his focus to keep his mind on the paper, carefully forming a character stroke by stroke—until a gentle, teasing voice broke his concentration.

“Who could have made Xiao Ye so beautiful?”

His hand jerked, nearly knocking the ink over. Flustered, he looked up—only for his lips to nearly graze the other’s. In that instant, his body froze, unable to retreat from the warmth of that steady gaze.

“Y-young Master…”

Before he could string together a proper sentence, Qin Yuxuan smiled and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. 

“Let’s try again.”

Heat surged up in Xiao Ye's face. Holding his breath, he dazedly lowered his head to complete the character—but when he looked at the finished stroke, he couldn't remember writing it.

For Qin Yuxuan, that kiss had seemed as natural as breathing.

But for Xiao Ye, it was like something had shattered within him, leaving him shaken, completely unable to calm down.

That night, sleep eluded him. His fingers traced his lips over and over, but no matter how he tried, he couldn't capture that fleeting sensation.

Moonlight streamed in through the window. On impulse, he carefully stuck out the tip of his tongue and brushed it against his lips—before quickly pulling back, startled and embarrassed by his own actions.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧  ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅

He thought something had changed between them.

Yet in the days that followed, Qin Yuxuan remained the same—warm and indulgent, but never overstepping the line again.

Xiao Ye’s heart, once light wth quiet joy and anticipation, gradually grew heavy. He continued to serve at Qin Yuxuan’s side, but he was even quieter than before.

Still, not wanting his disappointment to show, he continued to smile diligently—until night fell, and there was no one left to see it.

Some evenings, Qin Yuxuan would dismiss him early, saying there was no need to prepare dinner.

On those nights, he returned late, his robes carrying faint traces of powdery fragrance and the scent of wine.

Over time, Xiao Ye came to understand where the man went and why he could never follow.

But all he could do was stay behind in the house, keeping vigil by candlelight, waiting for his return.

Even as a plant, he had known that Qin Yuxuan was always like this—young, carefree, drawn to beauty and the world’s pleasures. 

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have changed his own appearance, hoping to catch his eye.

He had already come to terms with it. He had no right to wish for more.

And yet, night after night, the ache in his heart refused to fade. Instead, it seemed to deepen, winding tighter around him with every passing moment.

Closing his eyes, he recalled that single, fleeting kiss once more. 

His lips curved in a faint, wistful smile as tears welled at the corners of his eyes.