Chapter 88: Seeking the Moon

“Xiao An, sometimes you need to think more about your own future life…”

By the seaside, Xiao Yi’an slowed his pace, making it easier for the middle-aged woman beside him to keep up.

He walked along the shore, keeping a fair distance from where the waves crashed, but scattered beams of light flickered along the path, as if wary someone might try to cosplay Qu Yuan in the shallow waters at midnight.

“I know. I’m not a child,” Xiao Yi’an furrowed his brow slightly.

“Xiao An, it’s not that Auntie is blaming you, but you really should consider yourself. You can’t keep living your life only for your parents…”

At this, she fell silent, afraid her next words might reopen Xiao Yi’an’s wounds.

“I’ve let go. I’ve moved on.”

The middle-aged woman studied Xiao Yi’an carefully.

She shook her head gently.

“I just can’t stop worrying about you, Xiao An. If you can’t start a family, my heart won’t be at ease, and I won’t have the face to face your parents. I clearly saw you were doing a bit better before, so why are you sinking back down again? If anything’s wrong, you have to tell Auntie.”

“I really have let go.” Xiao Yi’an suddenly felt both amused and exasperated. “Why do you think I’m sinking back down?”

“You’re not even wearing your glasses.” His aunt pointed to his somewhat empty nose bridge. “Forgetful, just like before.”

“That’s because…” Xiao Yi’an thought for a moment before admitting, “My glasses are with my club president.”

“The president of that literary club you’re so protective of?” His aunt seemed to know quite a lot. “Is it school bullying? Have they been picking on you?”

“No, I gave them willingly.”

Xiao Yi’an’s aunt stopped walking, about to question him further, but then suddenly thought of another possibility: “Is it a girl?”

“Uh, yes.”

“Well, that’s good, very good.” Xiao Yi’an watched as his aunt’s face brightened. “Looks like I was worrying for nothing. How are things between you two now?”

“Just the usual president-member relationship.” The boy said this, but his gaze unconsciously drifted toward the sea, toward the moonlight fractured across the waves, avoiding his elder’s eyes.

He didn’t know if what he had with Ye Qingchang could really be called a pure president-member relationship.

He always remembered the close breaths they shared, the warmth when Ye Qingchang cupped his cheeks with both hands.

And that gentleness that felt as soft as the moonlight itself.

“So, what do you think of her?”

“Very good. Gentle, sometimes lively, but calm when it counts…” Xiao Yi’an instinctively rattled off descriptions, then caught the warm smile on his aunt’s face.

“Looks like Xiao An’s quite satisfied with her. Have you ever thought about taking things further?”

That question brought up something Xiao Yi’an had never dared to consider—or rather, refused to think about.

He hadn’t told his aunt that he had found a pale moonlight online—not out of shame, but as if wanting to hide his treasured secret from everyone else.

But he really shouldn’t have fallen for Ye Qingchang. That would be a betrayal of his true feelings.

Yet, she was too similar.

He didn’t dare to reach out to that real moonlight. Ye Qingchang, that reflection of the moon on the water, was standing far too close.

If he liked Ye Qingchang, it would be a betrayal of his past and a disrespect to her.

Because even if he liked Ye Qingchang, it would only be because she resembled that other person.

He was trapped.

He couldn’t bring himself to move forward, afraid it would sever the fragile connection with his dream person—he might not even remain friends. But he also feared stepping back, afraid he would lose himself.

If Ye Qingchang were truly that person, how wonderful that would be.

But it wasn’t possible.

In this vast sea of people, if he were ever to meet that person, it certainly wouldn’t be Ye Qingchang acting like she did.

Otherwise, wouldn’t that be toying with his feelings?

Ye Qingchang was warm, enthusiastic, and would gently help him try to solve his emotional problems. She was not the type to toy with feelings.

“I don’t know, but I don’t think so.”

Even if one day the person he longed for no longer needed him, he doubted he would turn to Ye Qingchang.

Besides, Ye Qingchang wouldn’t accept him.

After all, her help now was only due to that layer of gentleness and their president-member relationship.

At that point, he would truly fall into despair.

Seeing his aunt about to speak again, Xiao Yi’an hurriedly pulled out his phone, putting on an evasive expression.

But just as he pulled out his phone, a new message appeared.

It was a post from someone he specially followed.

In his memory, this person rarely posted anything.

Sometimes, they would suddenly appear in the middle of the night with a line of poetry, only to withdraw it before he could comment—probably embarrassed the moment it was posted.

This time, it was a line of text and a photo.

The photo was obviously just taken, not very professional, but the scene of broken moonlight being swept away in waves was captivating enough.

The caption had that person’s style: “The bright moon over the sea rises with the tide.”

This post would likely be one of the few surviving posts.

Xiao Yi’an glanced casually.

So, the other person was by the sea too? That was quite a coincidence. He was also walking by the sea—just dragged out by his aunt.

His aunt was still waiting, eager to dig for more details.

Just as he was about to turn off the screen, Xiao Yi’an froze.

With disbelief, he zoomed in on the photo, then zoomed in again, and looked back at the path he had just walked.

It was just an ordinary landscape photo—too plain to stand out even in a photography contest.

No hidden meaning, no eye-catching elements, just a record—of the seaside view, of the moment, with a poetic caption.

But there was him in the photo.

He wasn’t wearing glasses—so he couldn’t be absolutely sure.

But he didn’t just see himself; he also saw his aunt beside him.

There was no mistake.

His sliver of moonlight had been standing no more than five hundred meters away from him just now, taking that photo facing the sea.

The photo even included his figure.

Perhaps they had already seen each other by chance.

Xiao Yi’an’s heart suddenly began to pound wildly.

Excitement, anticipation—the grand finale of a long-hidden crush.

When Ye Qingchang first heard about his love, she told him that once two people who met online saw each other in person for the first time, the outcome of their feelings would begin to show.

There was no more room for fear. He couldn’t find a second chance like this.

He had to go find that moonlight.

“Auntie, you go back to the hotel first. I have something I need to do.”