Yu Chen leaned back against the cold metal shutter of the stall, arms crossed loosely. The warm scent of fried buns and spun sugar mingled with the damp air, wrapping around them like a quiet reminder of the night's earlier excitement. Beyond the shelter of the awning, the steady patter of rain blurred the distant chatter of the market, turning it into a soft, muted hum.
Xu Yang stood a step away, the jacket Yu Chen had given him hanging loose, its collar brushing the edge of his jaw. His hair clung in damp strands to his forehead, a single drop trailing lazily from the tip of his fringe down to his lashes.
He didn't blink it away — just let it fall.
Yu Chen's eyes kept returning to him, even when he told himself to look elsewhere.
Then Xu Yang extended a hand past the awning, palm open to the downpour. The rain ran down the curve of his wrist, disappearing under the sleeve.
"Yu Chen," he said quietly, not looking at him. His voice was low, almost lost to the patter.
"Can you keep a secret?"
Yu Chen's gaze sharpened.
"…What is it?"
The corner of Xu Yang's mouth twitched, but it wasn't a smile.
"I've only been here for two months."
Yu Chen straightened.
"What do you mean?"
Xu Yang pulled his hand back from the rain, water dripping from his fingers.
"I ran away from home to find my tutor — Han Shou Yi. My family dismissed him without a word, like he'd never existed."
Xu Yang's voice dropped, softer.
"When I finally tracked him down, he was already sick. Too sick to even stand."
He paused, wet lashes lowering for a beat before he went on.
"That's when I met his granddaughter."
His gaze flicked to Yu Chen, searching his face as if to see whether he understood.
"She… looked exactly like me. Same face, same smile. Only her hair and eyes were different. And there was a birthmark — a small crescent — just below her shoulder blade."
Yu Chen's jaw tightened, but he didn't say a word.
"My tutor lost his memory in an accident. Not long after, Ruo Yi's father vanished — left her nothing but debts to choke on."
Xu Yang's voice was steady, but his fingers kept worrying at the cuff of Yu Chen's jacket, twisting it over and over.
"And then… Han Shou Yi got leukemia."
His breath hitched, just barely. "Ruo Yi sold herself to Yi Tian to pay for the treatments."
Yu Chen didn't interrupt. He stood there, silent, eyes fixed on Xu Yang — listening as if every word carried a weight he couldn't set down.
"That time, I got caught too fast. They dragged me back home before I could do anything," Xu Yang said, his voice low — almost drowned out by the rain ticking against the awning. "I tried again. Ran away again. Broke the rules again."
He paused, lashes lowering as though the memory itself pressed down on him.
"But they keep punished me… before I could even reach her."
His fingers curled tighter around the sleeve of Yu Chen's jacket, knuckles paling.
"Then… her letter came."
He let out a shaky breath,
"She wrote that if I was reading it, she was already gone. Her last wish was for me to look after her grandfather… and to live as her, so no one would know she was dead."
The air between them felt heavier, the rain like a wall sealing them in.
"For two months, I've been Ruo Yi," Xu Yang said, each word deliberate, as if speaking it made the disguise heavier,
"I memorized her diary, every little habit, every smile she faked. Even drugged Yi Tian when he tried to touch me."
Xu Yang's voice cut sharper, a glint of satisfaction in it.
"I told him it'd make him last longer. And he believed me — every single time."
A faint, dangerous smile curved Xu Yang's lips,
"You should've seen his face when I bit his tongue hard enough to taste his blood."
A corner of Yu Chen's mouth twitched, but it wasn't amusement.
"And that drink you asked me about before?" Xu Yang tilted his head slightly, "Ruo Yi liked you."
Yu Chen's eyes flickered.
"…Me?"
"Yes."
Xu Yang's tone was soft but certain.
"She had a crush on you. But you were with Ying Yue, so she stayed quiet. She only knew so much because…"
Xu Yang's gaze dropped briefly, the corner of his mouth twisting.
"…because Ying Yue liked to brag. About you. About everything."
The drizzle outside softened to a faint whisper, the sound wrapping around them like a secret. Under the awning, Yu Chen could see the way Xu Yang's lashes caught the light, wet and dark, as if the memory was something he had carried too long.
The rain had softened to a steady drizzle, but the air still carried that damp weight — thick with the smell of wet asphalt and fried buns. Under the awning, the market noise felt far away, like it belonged to another world.
Xu Yang's gaze drifted to the street, where puddles shimmered under the neon lights, rippling with each drop.
"She used to say you looked untouchable. Like no one could get close unless you let them."
His lips curled faintly, though his voice was quieter now.
"Guess she was right."
Yu Chen didn't answer right away. His eyes stayed on Xu Yang, as if reading something between his words — or maybe between the silences. The space between them felt charged, the way the air does just before lightning strikes.
Xu Yang stood there in Yu Chen's jacket, shoulders slightly hunched against the lingering chill. The fabric was too big for him, the sleeves swallowing his hands, but somehow it looked as if it belonged to him more than to Yu Chen now. His damp hair clung in stubborn strands, a few beads of water still sliding down to catch on his lashes.
Yu Chen's gaze kept finding him.
Not because he meant to, but because it was impossible not to.
"I've kept my promise," Xu Yang said at last, his voice so soft Yu Chen almost missed it over the patter of rain.
Yu Chen's chest tightened.
"You're going back."
A faint nod from Xu Yang
No drama, no hesitation.
"There's no reason to pretend anymore." said Xu Yang
The drizzle traced lines across the pavement outside, pooling at the edge of the awning. Xu Yang's eyes lingered on it for a moment before he stepped closer — so close Yu Chen caught the faint scent of rain in his hair, and something warmer beneath it.
"I'll remember this," Xu Yang murmured. His gaze lifted, steady, unguarded. "Our first time… hanging out. And your kindness."
Yu Chen swallowed against the sudden dryness in his throat. There were words fighting to get out — things he could say, should say — but they tangled somewhere between his chest and his mouth.
Xu Yang extended his hand, the sleeve slipping back just enough to reveal damp fingers, pale and cold.
"Until we meet again, Yu Chen. I'll pay back your kindness"
For a long heartbeat, Yu Chen didn't move. Then he reached out, his palm meeting Xu Yang's in a grip that was warm despite the rain. His thumb brushed the side of Xu Yang's hand once, almost unconsciously — a quiet touch that said more than anything he could give voice to.
He could tell him not to go.
He could ask him to stay.
But the words stayed locked behind his teeth.
"Until next time," Yu Chen said quietly, his voice steady but low. "…Your Highness."
Xu Yang's lips curved into something fragile—almost a smile, but not quite.
He gave Yu Chen's hand a soft squeeze before slowly pulling away.
Yu Chen's fingers lingered a moment, reluctant to let go of the warmth.
Xu Yang hesitated, then slipped off the jacket Yu Chen had draped over him. He folded it carefully, as if preserving a fragile memory, before holding it out with a lingering glance.
Their fingers brushed when Yu Chen took the jacket. The touch was electric—brief but heavy with unspoken meaning, like a silent promise or a farewell.
The quiet hum of a car engine broke through the rain. A sleek black car gleamed under the streetlights, its door swinging open to reveal a tall man in a black suit. He popped open a black umbrella with practiced ease and strode toward them.
The bodyguard shielded Xu Yang under the umbrella, severing the fragile thread of connection that had just been rekindled.
"Your Highness," the man said with a curt nod.
Xu Yang took a step forward, then stopped. Instead of retreating under the umbrella's protection, he stepped just outside its edge, letting the drizzle soak his hair and, inadvertently, the collar of the jacket now in Yu Chen's hands.
He met Yu Chen's gaze—a silent, electric moment hanging between them, heavy with things left unsaid.
Then, with a quiet sigh, Xu Yang stepped back beneath the umbrella. The bodyguard guided him toward the waiting car, and the door closed softly behind them.
He looked down at the jacket in his hands—still warm from Xu Yang's touch—and felt a hollow ache settle in his chest.
Why… am I feeling like this?
The question echoed silently in his mind, heavy and confusing, tangled with longing and something deeper he wasn't ready to name.