LDMDS Chapter 22

When Ji Ruan woke up again, the first thing he saw was still a white ceiling, but it wasn’t the one in the school infirmary. The lights were off, and it wasn’t harsh on the eyes.

He paused for just a moment, then immediately ignored the dizziness and knocked on the bed, trying to make some noise.

It seemed like he still couldn’t hear clearly.

A heavy sense of fear surged in Ji Ruan’s heart. He struggled to sit up, but a pair of hands pressed down on his shoulders, pushing him back.

The warmth of those hands felt familiar. Even through the hospital gown, it seeped into Ji Ruan’s skin and gave him a sense of reassurance.

Gu Xiuyi’s face appeared before him—high nose bridge, thin lips, the usual calm expression. He gently rubbed Ji Ruan’s earlobe with his fingers before placing a hearing aid behind his ear.

As the sound flooded into his ears, Ji Ruan instinctively gasped. Then he heard the sound of rain outside the window.

"Shh, it’s alright," Gu Xiuyi’s palm rested near his ear, his voice clear and pleasant, "Can you hear now?"

The joy of regaining his hearing was no less than being reborn. Ji Ruan’s nose tingled, and he tentatively let out a soft "mm."

He could hear his own voice too!

The corners of Ji Ruan’s mouth twitched. What should he do? He felt so moved... he wanted to cry even more.

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

Seeing the way Ji Ruan’s mouth twitched, as if he was on the verge of tears, Gu Xiuyi couldn’t help but chuckle. He sat down by the bed and said, "Relax, no crying."

Ji Ruan rubbed his nose and took a deep breath, barely managing to steady his emotions, but there was still a hint of grievance in his voice: "I couldn’t hear anything before..."

He had been in this world for quite some time, and had gotten used to hearing at least some faint sounds, even without the external hearing aid. At the very least, he could sense himself speaking.

But that day, when he opened his mouth, his vocal cords vibrated, and although he should’ve been speaking loudly, he couldn’t hear a thing. All he could hear was an overwhelming, deafening noise, like a building collapsing.

"Were you scared? Back then," Gu Xiuyi asked softly.

Ji Ruan looked at him quietly for a moment, and chose not to avoid the question. "Of course."

The fear he experienced in that moment was beyond words, something he could never get used to.

"You don’t need to be afraid anymore." Gu Xiuyi leaned closer, his fingers gently tapping the raised area behind Ji Ruan’s right ear. "Did it hurt here at that time?"

He touched the exact spot, and when the warmth of his fingertip landed behind Ji Ruan’s ear, it was as if it triggered the spasms from the previous day, causing a sharp pain. Ji Ruan reflexively shuddered and closed his eyes. "Mm... why did that happen?"

"You had a cochlear implant surgery," Gu Xiuyi explained as he withdrew his hand. "The severe tinnitus and nerve pain were caused by a fever, but everything’s fine now."

"Really?" Ji Ruan opened his eyes, his gaze still somewhat unfocused.

When Ji Ruan suddenly lost his hearing, he thought there was something seriously wrong with his ears. He had already considered the possibility of another surgery or even becoming permanently deaf and mute for the rest of his life. Thinking back on it now still sent chills down his spine, yet Gu Xiuyi made it sound so casual.

"Don’t overthink it." Gu Xiuyi seemed to have seen through his thoughts, and the corners of his lips lifted in mild exasperation. "The doctor said it’s not serious. But you should still avoid getting sick or running a fever in the future. That kind of nerve pain isn’t good for your body."

He spoke with a bit more seriousness this time. "Got it?"

Ji Ruan tucked his chin into the blanket, said nothing, and simply nodded with his big eyes wide open.

But it wasn’t like he wanted to get sick. That sudden thunderstorm hadn’t even been mentioned in the weather forecast, so how could he have predicted it? He had taken medicine after getting soaked at Gu Xiuyi’s place, worn long sleeves the next day, and taken his meds on time, but he still couldn’t avoid the fever.

Seeing Ji Ruan looking a little disheartened, Gu Xiuyi paused for two seconds before saying, "Stop worrying. The doctor said as long as you don’t spike a fever again, you can be discharged this afternoon. You’ll even be able to go home for Mid-Autumn Festival."

"So soon?" Ji Ruan was surprised. His body had always been fragile and didn’t handle setbacks well, so how had it recovered so quickly this time...

He pursed his lips. "But honestly, I still feel a bit weak..."

Gu Xiuyi calmly responded, "When have you ever not felt weak?"

Ji Ruan: "..."

A direct hit.

"Alright, enough teasing," Gu Xiuyi chuckled, helping Ji Ruan sit up and lean against the headboard. "You haven’t eaten anything all day; of course you feel weak."

Gu Xiuyi poured a cup of warm water for Ji Ruan. He held it carefully, sipping slowly. The dryness in his throat made the sudden encounter with the warm water a bit uncomfortable at first. He paused for a couple of seconds, frowning slightly, but after the water had fully soothed his throat, he finally felt some relief.

Both the backs of Ji Ruan's hands had needle marks—one hand was still hooked up to an IV, while the other had bled a little when the needle was removed yesterday, now covered with a small bandage. His hand was slightly swollen.

Gu Xiuyi’s gaze rested on Ji Ruan’s thin, delicate fingers, and for a moment, neither of them said a word.

Just then, the door to the hospital room was gently pushed open. Aunt Zhao cautiously poked her head in, her face lighting up with a smile when she saw Ji Ruan awake and sitting up.

"How are you feeling, Ruan Ruan? Better?" she asked as she walked in, placing the thermal bag she was carrying on the small table.

"I’m fine now," Ji Ruan lifted his face and smiled at Aunt Zhao, his eyes curving into crescents. "Though I think I’m a bit hungry."

"Oh, you sweet thing," Aunt Zhao chuckled, opening the thermal bag. "I’ve brought you some food."

Ji Ruan’s gaze immediately locked onto the insulated container inside the bag. Even though the lid was still on, he could almost smell the aroma already.

"Are you that eager?" Aunt Zhao laughed heartily at Ji Ruan’s fixated stare and scooped a portion into a small bowl.

It looked like plain porridge, but the rich aroma was overwhelming, and Ji Ruan, who was starving, felt his mouth water just from the scent.

"The doctor said you need to eat light for now," Aunt Zhao said as she handed the bowl and spoon to Ji Ruan and sat down beside him. "But I figured plain porridge isn’t very nutritious. Look at you, you’re almost skin and bones."

She half-covered her mouth with a playful grin. "So, I mixed in some bone broth and minced meat. Smells delicious, doesn’t it? Now that’s proper food!"

Ji Ruan, unable to wait any longer, eagerly scooped a small spoonful, gently blowing on it before carefully slipping it into his mouth. The rich broth and minced meat perfectly soaked into the grains of rice, and each soft, tender grain melted on his tongue. Ji Ruan closed his eyes in pure enjoyment.

Is Aunt Zhao some kind of culinary genius? he thought to himself.

There was quite a lot of porridge, far too much for Ji Ruan to finish by himself. As Gu Xiuyi watched Ji Ruan’s delicate yet satisfied expression while eating, he exchanged a glance with Aunt Zhao. Understanding immediately, she pulled out two more bowls from the bag and filled them with porridge, turning the meal into a shared lunch for the three of them.

When Ji Ruan had been severely ill in the past, his diet had to be strictly controlled, and he could only eat bland, tasteless food every day.

Back then, eating was never an enjoyable experience for Ji Ruan. The food tasted like cardboard, and often he would throw it up due to stomach pain.

When his condition improved a little, some mischievous friends would visit him with barbecued skewers or spicy hotpot. While Ji Ruan sat in bed eating plain porridge, they would feast noisily at the table.

Those days had been truly difficult. Now, as he looked at Gu Xiuyi sharing porridge with him and Aunt Zhao chatting and laughing nearby, Ji Ruan felt like it was some kind of distant, almost surreal comfort—like a long-overdue reprieve.

After lunch, Ji Ruan took an afternoon nap, sleeping more peacefully than he had in a long time. His stomach was warm, his heart felt full, and he even had a pleasant dream.

Half-awake, he seemed to feel someone gently touching his ear. A warm hand rested near his ear, the touch familiar and comforting, the temperature much higher than his own.

The person was so close that Ji Ruan could almost feel their breath tickling his earlobe. They said something, but he couldn’t quite make it out.

"Xiao Ruan... Ruan Ruan... time to wake up."

It felt like a long time had passed. Finally, someone patted him gently on the shoulder, and Ji Ruan groggily opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was Aunt Zhao’s smiling face, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Oh, you slept so soundly," Aunt Zhao teased, rubbing the back of her hand against Ji Ruan’s cheek. "Your face is all red. Did you have a sweet  dream, Xiao Ruan?"

Ji Ruan shrank back under the quilt, feeling a bit embarrassed. "I don’t really remember..."

"Haha, embarrassed now, are we? Come on, time to get up," Aunt Zhao chuckled, brushing aside a few strands of Ji Ruan’s hair. "Let’s go home and celebrate Mid-Autumn Festival."

After his nap, Ji Ruan’s fever had completely subsided, and at some point, the IV needle had been removed from his hand.

Following Aunt Zhao’s advice, he got up and washed up. But as he walked out of the bathroom, he felt like something was missing and looked around curiously.

Aunt Zhao, busy packing his clothes, noticed and said, "Are you looking for Xiao Gu? He’s gone back to work."

"Working again?" Ji Ruan was surprised. "But it’s almost Mid-Autumn Festival."

Aunt Zhao placed the clothes Ji Ruan needed to change into on the bedside table. "I know, right? But he doesn’t really celebrate holidays much. I thought with you at home this year, maybe Xiao Gu would stay, but he’s still busy."

"I see..." Ji Ruan slowly sat down on the edge of the bed.

"It’s alright," Aunt Zhao said with a smile. "We’ll still celebrate even if he’s not here. It’s just a pity tomorrow’s his birthday, and we don’t know if he’ll make it back."

"His birthday?" Ji Ruan froze, his hand paused mid-motion as he reached for his clothes. "He won’t come back for his own birthday?"

Aunt Zhao sighed. "It’s hard to say. His birthday just happens to fall on Mid-Autumn this year. What a perfect day for it, too. I was even planning to make him some longevity noodles."

Ji Ruan lowered his head, absentmindedly pinching his lower lip with his fingers. His long eyelashes fluttered like the wings of a doll lost in thought.

Aunt Zhao found his expression amusing and tilted her head to look at him. "What are you thinking about, Ruan Ruan?" she asked with a grin.

"Ah?" Ji Ruan snapped back to reality, lowering his hand and licking his lips. "I was just thinking about what gift I should prepare."

Aunt Zhao smiled warmly. "When it comes to gifts, it’s the thought that counts. Whatever you give him, he’ll like it."

With that, she picked up the bag. "Alright, I’ll step out for a moment. Once you’re done changing, we’ll head home."

"Okay," Ji Ruan nodded.

After the door closed, Ji Ruan didn’t immediately change his clothes. He remained seated on the edge of the bed, still looking troubled.

Gu Xiuyi’s birthday coincided with Mid-Autumn Festival. He had been very kind to Ji Ruan lately, and even though it wasn’t certain if Gu Xiuyi would be able to come home tomorrow, Ji Ruan felt that he should at least prepare something, even if just as a gesture.

But what would be a good gift?

Gu Xiuyi had seen all kinds of luxury items—money couldn’t impress him, and Ji Ruan’s own savings weren’t much to begin with.

What could he give that wouldn’t cost money but still felt sincere?

Suddenly, Ji Ruan’s eyes lit up, and a smile spread across his face. He grabbed his phone from the bedside table and sent a message to Han Xiaolin.

---

The one who came to pick up Ji Ruan was the ever-cheerful Uncle Zhang, who greeted him with a flurry of warm questions about his health.

Ji Ruan responded with a few smiles and pleasantries, then fastened his seatbelt. "Uncle Zhang, could you stop by my school’s entrance on the way?"

When Gu Xiuyi had carried Ji Ruan from the school clinic, he had taken him directly to the nearest hospital. Now, on their way back to the villa, they would pass by the main gate of Ji Ruan’s university.

Uncle Zhang started the car with a hearty laugh. "No problem at all."

Aunt Zhao placed a light blanket over Ji Ruan's legs and asked, "Do you still have something to take care of at school?"

"No," Ji Ruan pulled the blanket up a bit. "I just asked a classmate to bring something for me."

Aunt Zhao nodded in understanding and didn’t press further.

By the time they reached the school gate, Han Xiaolin was already waiting there. He handed Ji Ruan a bag as soon as he saw him.

"Going home for break, and you still remembered to grab someone else’s shirt?" Han Xiaolin teased.

"Stop with the jokes."

Ji Ruan opened the bag and took a quick look. Gu Xiuyi’s shirt was neatly folded inside. He reached in to touch it—it was dry. It seemed like he had made the right decision to wash it that same night. If he hadn’t, the shirt in the bag would still have been worn and dirty.

"Are you feeling better?" Han Xiaolin asked again.

"I’m fine now," Ji Ruan smiled. "I’ve just been discharged from the hospital."

Han Xiaolin clicked his tongue and shook his head. "You still don’t look great. Your body’s too weak."

Ji Ruan sighed. "It’s how I was born. I don’t exactly have a say in it."

Han Xiaolin leaned in to check Ji Ruan’s ear, noting that it still looked delicate as ever. "I heard you couldn’t hear at all for a while. Scared me half to death."

Seeing the genuine concern on Han Xiaolin’s face, Ji Ruan felt a warmth in his heart. "I’m okay now—"

"I was thinking, if you’d really lost your hearing, you wouldn’t be able to talk either, right? Then how would we communicate? We can’t just text all the time. Would I have to learn sign language just for you?" Han Xiaolin shoved his hands into his pockets, looking seriously troubled. "Luckily, you can hear again. Otherwise, I’d have to reconsider our friendship."

Ji Ruan choked on his words, the warmth in his heart turning into cold indifference. He tossed the bag at Han Xiaolin, who was running his mouth. "Fine, let’s end our friendship! You jerk!"

Ji Ruan was easily the most delicate friend Han Xiaolin had ever had. Even when "insulting" someone, Ji Ruan could only manage to say "jerk," his voice too soft and unable to rise much in volume. It made him seem like a refined young lady or, more accurately, a little princess.

Han Xiaolin couldn’t help but laugh at the image in his head. "I’m sorry, Princess! No breaking up! Best buddies for life!"

Ji Ruan, catching his breath, coughed a few times and adjusted his hearing aid behind his ear. "Too late, this princess has a temper."

Every movement he made had a subtle elegance to it.

With that, he grabbed the bag and turned to leave, while Han Xiaolin was left at the school gate, laughing so hard he nearly choked, causing passing students to give him a wide berth.

---

That evening, after dinner, Ji Ruan asked Aunt Zhao for a sewing kit and locked himself in his room.

The shirt Gu Xiuyi had left behind was a simple white dress shirt. The only distinctive feature was the dark red buttons on the sleeves, which looked like drops of blood or tiny gemstones.

Ji Ruan examined the shirt for a while, then rummaged through the sewing kit to find some dark green thread. Threading the needle and tying a knot, he carefully began to embroider a small, delicate pattern on the sleeve.

Before he had entered the novel world, Ji Ruan’s family had been experts in Han embroidery for generations. As the heir of this traditional craft, Ji Ruan had been learning the art since childhood. Before his illness, he had even embroidered an entire wedding gown by himself. When his sister got married, her wedding dress had been a labor of love, stitched by him and his mother, one thread at a time.

Although this body had never touched a needle and thread before, and his hands were a bit rusty, Ji Ruan found that embroidering a small pattern was still well within his capabilities. He didn’t even need to sketch the design beforehand—he could begin stitching right away.

That night, Ji Ruan worked until he finished embroidering the shirt and hung it up, but Gu Xiuyi still hadn’t returned.

The next morning, Ji Ruan woke up later than usual. The living room was still occupied by only Aunt Zhao, meaning Gu Xiuyi hadn’t come home at all the previous night.

Ji Ruan had long grown accustomed to Gu Xiuyi’s frequent absences. He went about his day as usual: ate breakfast, fed Xiao An, then accompanied Aunt Zhao to the market. Afterward, he even learned how to make mooncakes with her. In the evening, the two of them and the cat watched the Mid-Autumn Festival Gala together, which made for a surprisingly fulfilling day.

But after Aunt Zhao went to bed, the house gradually became quiet, the lights dimmed, and when Ji Ruan made his way back to his room, the silence struck him in an unexpected and unsettling way. 

This sense of emptiness came on suddenly, without warning, leaving him feeling a bit lost.

Ji Ruan paused halfway up the staircase, gripping the railing as he stared blankly for a long time. Then, turning his head, he looked out the window.

Through the floor-to-ceiling glass wall, the view of the yard was completely unobstructed. Among the branches of the trees, the moon shone particularly bright and full, nestled in the clouds like it was wrapped in a faint, misty haze.

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

The lawn was meticulously trimmed, and in the open area where no branches blocked the sky, there was a round table with a few stone stools. From there, the moon could be seen clearly, with nothing in the way.

Ji Ruan tilted his head up, momentarily dazed by the feeling that the moon was about to fall onto his face.

“Bzzz—bzzz—”

Han Xiaolin sent a video. He was still out and about in the bustling shopping district, where crowds of people were gathered, all tilting their heads to admire the moon.

Ji Ruan exited the chat and opened his camera, snapping a photo to send in response.

Compared to the bright lights and noisy city streets in Han Xiaolin's video, his surroundings were much quieter: the dark sky, silver moon, and treetops were the entire composition.

Han Xiaolin teased him, saying it looked like he was about to "raise a cup and ask the moon."

Ji Ruan chuckled, his finger hovering over the screen for a few seconds before he finally decided to send the same picture to Gu Xiuyi as well.

It seemed Gu Xiuyi saw the message. The chat briefly showed the "typing" indicator, but no reply came.

Ji Ruan assumed he was still busy, so he put his phone away and rested his head on the stone table, continuing to enjoy the moonlight.

Just a couple of minutes later, the sound of a car pulling into the driveway reached his ears. Ji Ruan turned to listen, and sure enough, a familiar black car parked just outside the courtyard. As the car door opened and closed, he caught glimpses of Gu Xiuyi's suit jacket.

Ji Ruan straightened up, leaning on the stone table, and turned his head. The iron gate creaked open, and Gu Xiuyi’s tall figure appeared in the distance, as impeccably dressed as ever in his suit, his posture upright and his stride long and confident.

Gu Xiuyi noticed Ji Ruan but showed no sign of surprise. He walked over with quick, steady steps, his suit jacket fluttering slightly in the night breeze.

It wasn’t until Gu Xiuyi stood directly in front of him that Ji Ruan could clearly see his face in the moonlight. The dim light made his features softer, even his gaze seemed gentler.

"Why are you sitting out here alone?" Gu Xiuyi asked.

The night breeze was gentle, and as it brushed past Ji Ruan’s ears, Gu Xiuyi’s voice sounded particularly clear.

Ji Ruan pointed at the sky. "I couldn’t sleep, so I came out to watch the moon."

In Gu Xiuyi’s hand was a cake box—pure white, simply decorated with a blue ribbon.

Ji Ruan was a bit surprised. In his mind, Gu Xiuyi didn’t seem like the type to buy a cake for his own birthday. A businessman who worked 365 days a year—would he really feel sentimental on his birthday and decide to celebrate?

Gu Xiuyi placed the cake gently on the stone table, then pulled out his phone and pointed it toward the sky, as if he were making a comparison.

Ji Ruan saw that the screen displayed the photo he had just sent earlier.

"It’s still more beautiful to the naked eye," Gu Xiuyi commented.

At that moment, he seemed unusually relaxed, his tone carrying an effortless ease. "But when you sent that photo, I really thought it was the best view."

He looked down at Ji Ruan, the curve of his eyes soft and at ease. "Turns out it’s because I hadn’t seen it in person."

No matter how beautiful a photo might be, it’s like an illusion—an image of a flower in a mirror or the moon reflected in water. It could never compare to the real thing that can be seen, heard, and touched.

It was rare to see Gu Xiuyi in such a sentimental mood, and Ji Ruan found it curious. Smiling, he placed his hand on the cake box, tilted his head back to gaze at Gu Xiuyi, and softly said, "Happy birthday."

His voice was quiet, carried gently by the wind like a feather brushing against the ear.

Gu Xiuyi froze for a moment.

Ji Ruan smiled as he stood up. "I prepared a gift for you. I’ll go get it."

Without waiting for Gu Xiuyi’s response, he headed toward the gray staircase that led to the second floor, taking a shortcut to his room.

Gu Xiuyi stood there, silently watching Ji Ruan’s figure disappear. The gray staircase had a perfect, graceful curve, with small guide lights hanging at intervals to illuminate the path. 

As Ji Ruan ascended, he looked like a prince in a fairytale, innocently making his way toward his own little utopia.

After a moment, Gu Xiuyi slowly sat down on the stone stool, gently toying with the blue ribbon on the cake box. As he wound the ribbon around his fingers, a faint tingle spread across his fingertips.

When Ji Ruan returned, he carried a simple paper bag and sat down in front of Gu Xiuyi with a smile in his eyes.

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

Following his words, Gu Xiuyi took the contents out of the bag and examined it. "My shirt?"

"..."

"No..." Ji Ruan cleared his throat. "Look closely."

Gu Xiuyi’s eyes softened with amusement as he found the sleeve and examined the embroidery. "A tree?"

"Mm."

Ji Ruan rested his arms on the table, his chin propped on them, his eyes shining beautifully under the moonlight. The confidence he exuded, born from pride in his craftsmanship, made him all the more captivating.

Gu Xiuyi gently touched the embroidery with his fingertips. The stitches were intricate and smooth to the touch. "What kind of tree is it?"

Ji Ruan’s eyes curved into a smile. "Take a guess."

Gu Xiuyi examined the small, delicately embroidered tree. It was lush with long, narrow, and pointed leaves. One of the branches sloped downward, as if something heavy was hanging from it.

Beneath the embroidered tree was the dark red button, translucent and lustrous, like a ripe cherry weighing down the branch. However, the cherry was disproportionately large compared to the tree, as if the entire tree had used all its nutrients to produce this single fruit, making it exceptionally plump—likely the very sweet kind of cherry.

Gu Xiuyi couldn’t help but smile at the whimsical idea. "A very beautiful cherry tree."

Ji Ruan tilted his head, resting his cheek against his arm, clearly in a good mood after the compliment.

"But you know how to embroider?" Gu Xiuyi asked, still examining the intricate cherry tree.

Ji Ruan responded casually, "I know a lot of things—you just don’t know about them."

Gu Xiuyi chuckled, carefully folding the shirt back into the paper bag. When he looked at Ji Ruan again, his expression was focused and sincere. "Thank you. It’s the best gift."

Ji Ruan smiled faintly. "You’re welcome."

Gu Xiuyi then untied the blue ribbon and opened the white box. "Alright, time for cake."

The moment Ji Ruan saw the cake, he straightened up in disbelief. "Cherries again?"

Inside the box was a cake crafted in the shape of cherries—two bright red spheres connected by a single stem, so realistic they looked like actual fruit.

"Yes," Gu Xiuyi smiled with a hint of resignation. "Looks like cherries are having a meeting today."

In fact, Gu Xiuyi had never really celebrated his own birthday before, nor did he consider it a day worthy of any special commemoration. The reason he bought the cherry-shaped cake was purely by chance—he had seen an employee carrying a cake shaped like a peach, crafted to look almost identical to the real fruit. That’s when he thought, if he ordered a cherry-shaped one for Ji Ruan, the kid would probably love it.

And sure enough, Ji Ruan's eyes were practically glued to the cake in excitement.

Amused, Gu Xiuyi tugged Ji Ruan gently by the back of his collar to keep him from getting too close to the cake, then pulled out a plastic knife to cut the two cherries in half. He placed one half on a paper plate and pushed it toward Ji Ruan. "Here, eat."

Ji Ruan took a dainty bite with his fork, eating very politely. The cream was rich yet not greasy, and the sweetness, though subtle, lingered on his palate.

Blinking in pleasant surprise, Ji Ruan remarked, "It's so sweet..."

Gu Xiuyi found the air itself seemed to carry a sweet scent.

After swallowing a bite, Ji Ruan suddenly looked at Gu Xiuyi and asked, "Did you talk to me while I was asleep yesterday?"

"What?" Gu Xiuyi, who had just taken a bite of cake himself, paused. Oddly enough, though he normally didn’t care for sweets, he found this cake not sweet enough today.

"In the hospital yesterday," Ji Ruan set his fork down, "did you say something to me while I was sleeping? I think it was four words, but I couldn’t make them out."

Gu Xiuyi seemed to recall the moment, a small smile playing on his lips as he slowly ate another bite of cake. "What do you think?"

Ji Ruan scoffed and looked away. "Then I won’t guess."

"Alright, I’ll tell you," Gu Xiuyi gave in quickly. "I told you to eat well."

He playfully pinched Ji Ruan’s chin. "You’ve lost weight."

Ji Ruan: "..."

"What...?"

After spending all that time pondering the question, it turned out to be such a mundane statement. Feeling a bit deflated, Ji Ruan silently continued eating his cake—until he suddenly stopped, frowning slightly.

"What's wrong?" Gu Xiuyi's expression shifted to concern as he leaned in to check Ji Ruan's temperature near his neck. "Are you cold? Or feeling unwell?"

"No..." Ji Ruan gently moved his hand away, his expression a little complicated. "I forgot to let you blow out the candles and make a wish."

He glanced at the table. The cake had already been sliced into, and there was no way to insert any candles on the now battle-worn dessert.

Gu Xiuyi was momentarily taken aback, but then he relaxed. "It’s no big deal."

After all, he never even celebrated his birthday, let alone bothered with something as trivial as blowing out candles.

"But it doesn’t feel right," Ji Ruan insisted, feeling as though he had somehow ruined a perfect birthday. He was visibly unsettled.

Rummaging through the box, Ji Ruan found a single candle. "How about this? I’ll hold it for you, and you can make a wish and blow it out. It’s a bit makeshift, but it works, right?"

His suggestion was offered with sincere seriousness, his hair tousled by the wind. He brushed the strands away from his eyes, revealing a gaze that was impossibly clear and earnest.

Leaning his elbows on the stone table, Gu Xiuyi couldn’t help but smile at Ji Ruan’s innocent demeanor. "What are you, a wish-granting fairy, little one?"

"Not quite," Ji Ruan replied, both honest and humble. "None of my birthday wishes have ever come true, but I still make one every year, just for the ritual. Now hurry up, do you have a lighter?"

Gu Xiuyi quietly watched him for a moment, taking in the way his hair moved in the night breeze and his slender, pale fingers.

"Alright," he said after a pause, pulling out a lighter.

*Click.*

The flame flickered to life, lighting the candle.

In the faint glow of the flame, Ji Ruan’s features were suddenly more defined, sharp yet soft. The dancing light seemed to slip its way into the wish that someone was silently making at that very moment.

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The author has something to say:

Gu Xiuyi’s Tip for Pursuing His Love #4 — If it's him, then love doesn’t need to be a two-way exchange. Every expression he makes is a reason for me to fall in love.

(Simplified version: I’m so in love with my wife.)

No-prize guessing game: What do you think Gu Xiuyi wished for?

Notes: The phrase "raise a cup and ask the moon" (把酒问月) comes from a famous classical Chinese poem by Li Bai, a renowned poet from the Tang Dynasty. It evokes the imagery of someone drinking alone under the moonlight, reflecting on life or feeling a sense of loneliness or nostalgia. In this context, Han Xiaolin is teasing Ji Ruan, suggesting that the quiet, serene scene Ji Ruan captured looks like something out of a poetic moment where someone might "ask the moon" while drinking.