Zhang Jianguo had been gone for over half a year now, and the small Daoist Temple felt quiet and empty.
The Village Chief had originally planned to invite Zhang Xianyu to spend the New Year at his home, but Zhang Xianyu thought about it and decided that since it was so hard to come back even once, it was better to stay at his own place.
Although Zhang Jianguo was no longer around, the memories they shared as master and disciple remained.
Other homes might be lively, but they were not his home.
On the twenty-ninth day of the lunar year, Zhang Xianyu caught a ride with some villagers to buy New Year’s goods.
Since he was the only one at home, he didn’t buy much—just two of Zhang Jianguo’s favorite dishes and a few others to make a simple three-dish and one-soup meal.
That was enough for a New Year’s Eve dinner.
On the morning of the thirty-first, Zhang Xianyu got up early to clean the temple thoroughly.
Everything inside and out was swept and washed clean before he began preparing the New Year’s Eve dinner.
Although his neighbors couldn’t convince him to go celebrate at their homes, they specially sent over quite a few pieces of cured fish and cured meat, worried he’d feel lonely alone.
This made the dinner even more lavish than Zhang Xianyu had originally planned.
Winter nights fell early and dark.
Zhang Xianyu set the dishes on the main hall’s table early.
The seat of honor was for Zhang Jianguo.
After arranging the bowls and chopsticks, he sat down opposite, poured two glasses of wine—one placed at the seat of honor, the other for himself.
Only after drinking did he start eating.
Zhang Xianyu ate slowly.
There were four hot dishes and two plates of cured meat on the table.
It was actually too much for one person, but before, he wouldn’t have minded.
Now, sitting quietly by himself facing the spread, he began to feel a strange loneliness.
He found himself missing Lin Wushui.
If Lin Wushui were here, there wouldn’t be so much food left.
Back in the Family Building, no matter how much food was cooked, Lin Wushui always managed to eat it all cleanly, never leaving leftovers.
He sighed softly, thinking how just one semester away had already corrupted him.
After eating casually, Zhang Xianyu put the leftover food in the cabinet to be eaten the next day.
After a simple wash-up, he locked the door and tucked himself into bed early.
Naturally, there was no air conditioning in the temple; in summer he endured the heat, in winter the cold, relying solely on his own resolve.
Either way, it was warmer under the covers.
Although in bed, he couldn’t fall asleep so early.
The old-fashioned TV on the table was still on, with the lively Spring Festival Gala playing, but Zhang Xianyu had no mood to watch.
After some thought, he sent a message to Lin Wushui, asking if he had finished dinner.
Lin Wushui, of course, had eaten.
The Lin Family was a large clan; relatives and friends gathered every year at this time, holding two or three tables in a hotel for the festive feast.
Lin Father had only one son, so Lin Wushui was always the one to host guests.
Lin Wushui found it tedious—he disliked dealing with such hypocritical formalities—but considering Lin Father was getting old, he had to compromise.
When Zhang Xianyu’s message came in, Lin Wushui was anxiously smoking on the balcony.
He thought living in the Family Building was quiet and peaceful.
The people there were likable; even if they didn’t speak much, it felt comfortable.
Not like here, where it was a mess of chaos.
So he couldn’t resist and sent a video call request.
The call connected quickly.
The dark image showed Zhang Xianyu, still with a hint of youthful innocence on his face, tucked under the covers without the light on.
The background audio was the Spring Festival Gala on TV.
Lin Wushui squinted, studying him a moment before realizing Zhang Xianyu was hiding under the blanket.
His pale eyes reflected the glow from the TV, bright and clear.
“Why are you asleep so early? Didn’t you go out to play?”
Zhang Xianyu said it was too cold, “There’s nothing fun outside.”
The village had no entertainment.
Either families watched the Gala together or went to tea houses to play mahjong, neither of which involved him.
Lin Wushui opened his mouth to say something but suddenly remembered he was probably alone at home.
Seeing the boy quietly curled up under the covers, his face faintly lit by the TV, he guessed he must be bored to reach out.
Lin Wushui glanced back at the noisy hotel private room, relatives making a ruckus, and suddenly felt irritated.
He said a few words to Zhang Xianyu and hung up, then grabbed his coat to leave.
His Lin Cousin, drunk and shouting, grabbed him: “Cousin, where are you going? Come drink!”
Lin Wushui frowned, cold eyes resting on the hand pulling his sleeve.
The cousin was startled, sobering up a bit, nervously chuckling, “Cousin, take care, do you want me to drive you home?”
Then he remembered he’d been drinking and couldn’t really drive, so sheepishly shut up.
“Carry on having fun,” Lin Wushui said indifferently.
“I have some things to do, sorry to leave early.”
Without waiting for a reply, he pushed open the door and left.
Outside, the cold air was sharp.
Lin Wushui had also been drinking, so he arranged for the hotel manager to find a designated driver to take him back to Tuanjie Village.
After hanging up, Zhang Xianyu played some games out of boredom before preparing to sleep again.
He set an alarm—he still had to get up at midnight to set off firecrackers.
With over three hours left, he decided to rest a little.
Half asleep and half awake, Zhang Xianyu felt like he had dreamed a lot of chaotic, noisy dreams.
But when the alarm woke him, he remembered nothing.
At midnight, firecrackers exploded continuously outside.
Against the ink-black sky, bursts of fireworks bloomed, colorful and dazzling—festive and joyful.
Although cities had gradually banned fireworks in recent years, rural villages were less strict and still kept the old traditions.
After midnight, every household set off a string of firecrackers.
Zhang Xianyu had prepared some too—long red strips laid out and lit, crackling loudly.
After a short nap, now awake with no more sleepiness, Zhang Xianyu stood outside watching the fireworks for a while.
Just as he turned to go back, he saw a car slowly approaching from afar.
A dark head leaned out the window, searching for something.
At first, Zhang Xianyu thought it was a passerby lost on the road. But as the car got closer, he squinted, and the head looked more and more familiar.
He was surprised but instinctively doubted it was possible.
Hesitating, he didn’t call out.
At that moment, Lin Wushui also saw him.
His usually stern face softened, and he handed the driver triple the fee before telling him to stop and get off directly.
Wearing a sharp gray wool coat, his shirt and tie loose and disheveled underneath, Lin Wushui still carried the lingering smell of smoke and alcohol—clearly just coming straight from a banquet without time to freshen up.
Only when Lin Wushui stood before him did Zhang Xianyu snap back to reality and stupidly ask, “What are you doing here?”
Lin Wushui raised an eyebrow, about to say “I came to keep you company,” but felt that sounded too intimate and inappropriate.
So he changed it to, “There were too many noisy relatives at home. I came here for some quiet.”
Zhang Xianyu silently watched him, marveling at how Lin Wushui made such a lame excuse sound so confident.
Who would drive three hours to the countryside just to find peace and quiet?
But Zhang Xianyu didn’t call him out and welcomed him into the temple.
In front was the main hall, housing the Ancestral Master’s statue.
Behind were the living quarters: two main rooms and two side rooms.
The main rooms were the bedrooms of Zhang Xianyu and Zhang Jianguo, while the side rooms had been converted into a kitchen and a study for scriptures and talismans.
Zhang Xianyu had only been back a few days and only tidied his own bedroom.
He led Lin Wushui inside, poured him some hot water to warm his hands, and asked if he had eaten.
Lin Wushui hadn’t eaten, having drunk during the New Year’s Eve dinner.
But coming over in the middle of the night was already troublesome enough, so feeling awkward, he said he had.
Zhang Xianyu knew better; the man smelled strongly of alcohol.
“I’ll heat up some food. You wait here.”
Saying that, he headed to the kitchen.
The New Year’s Eve dishes were still there, just needing warming.
After reheating the dishes, he placed them on the small desk in the room, and the two of them shared a makeshift late-night meal.
Lin Wushui hadn’t been hungry initially, but the aroma of hot food immediately made him ravenous.
Zhang Xianyu had already eaten, so he just picked at the food politely while Lin Wushui finished every last bite.
Seeing the empty plates brightened Zhang Xianyu’s gloomy mood from the whole evening.
Lin Wushui offered to help clear the dishes, but Zhang Xianyu coldly refused, afraid Lin Wushui might break the few remaining dishes they had at home.
It had to be said—the kitchen clumsiness was likely hereditary.
Lin Wushui was even worse than his sister Wu Shui.
If not for the hundreds of dishes stocked in the Family Building’s kitchen, there wouldn’t be enough to replace the ones he had smashed.
Zhang Xianyu quickly tidied the bowls and chopsticks, then brought back a hot water bottle.
Lin Wushui sat on a small chair by the desk, staring seriously at the TV.
“The house is small. I only cleaned up this one room. Tonight, you’ll have to squeeze in with me,” Zhang Xianyu said, placing the hot water bottle in Lin Wushui’s lap.
Then he grabbed a pillow from the wardrobe, fluffed it, and set it beside his own pillow while making the bed.
“The bathroom’s on the right. I put new towels and a toothbrush on the sink.”
Lin Wushui replied once, got up to wash, and after stepping out of Zhang Xianyu’s sight, slowly exhaled, loosening the tension in his body.
Coming to Tuanjie Village was an impulsive decision, and after arriving, he realized just how big a hole he had dug for himself.
Unlike Zhang Xianyu, who knew nothing about relationships, Lin Wushui often entertained people in business.
He’d seen every kind of drinking game at banquets, but when it came to himself, though he hadn’t realized it at first, he now knew the truth.
He was attracted to Zhang Xianyu.
At first, he was just curious about the kid, inexplicably wanting to get close—enough to invent a fictitious sister named Wu Shui to make it plausible.
Later, when Zhang Xianyu went to university, Lin Wushui coaxed him into living in the Family Building to keep an eye on him.
If those were just unconscious territorial moves, then the reaction Lin Wushui had when sharing a bed with Zhang Xianyu in Sanming Village showed real feelings.
Apart from his parents, Lin Wushui was cold toward everyone else.
At twenty-six years old, he had never cared for anyone until Zhang Xianyu.
After tonight, he was even more certain: Zhang Xianyu was different in his heart.
He not only wanted to claim Zhang Xianyu as his but also desired him.