It rained again the next Friday.
Softly, like the sky was keeping a promise.
Li Wei arrived at Ming's Brew earlier than usual. He had told Zhao Ming he'd cover the evening shift, even though business was always slow when it poured.
He didn't admit why — that a note written on a napkin had made his heart beat faster all week.
> "Next week. Same place.
— Yuhan 🌙"
He'd read it every night before sleeping. Not because he didn't trust it — but because he wanted to remember what hope felt like.
By seven, the café lights glowed warm against the gray outside. A few students came in, ordered tea, and left quickly, holding umbrellas like shields.
When the bell above the door rang again, Li Wei didn't need to look up.
He knew that quiet pause — the hesitant step, the sound of rain sliding off a coat.
"Americano?" Li Wei said softly, smiling before he could stop himself.
Yuhan laughed under his mask. "You read my mind."
Li Wei's heart did that unsteady thing again. He tried to hide it by turning to the espresso machine.
"You're early," he said.
"Couldn't wait," Yuhan admitted, removing his hood. His hair was damp, and he looked tired — not from lack of sleep, but from living too much in the spotlight.
Li Wei set the cup down in front of him. "Rough week?"
"You could say that."
Yuhan leaned on the counter, his voice low. "I had a photoshoot yesterday. Ten hours. Then interviews, then rehearsals. Everyone kept saying I looked perfect." He smiled faintly. "But I haven't felt perfect in a long time."
Li Wei wiped his hands on his apron, thinking.
"Maybe that's because you're not supposed to be perfect."
Yuhan tilted his head. "That's easy to say when the world doesn't want to own you."
"Then maybe the world shouldn't."
The words came out before Li Wei could stop them. But Yuhan didn't seem upset.
He just looked at him — really looked — as though hearing something he hadn't realized he needed.
The rain outside grew steadier, tapping softly against the window like applause too gentle to disturb.
"Sit with me," Yuhan said suddenly.
Li Wei blinked. "I'm working."
"It's quiet," Yuhan said. "No one's watching."
That was true. The café was almost empty — just the two of them and the rain.
Li Wei hesitated only a moment before untying his apron and sitting across from him.
For a while, they said nothing.
It wasn't silence; it was comfort.
Yuhan rested his chin on his hand, watching the rain slide down the glass. "You ever think about running away?"
Li Wei smiled softly. "All the time. But I always come back. The city keeps calling me."
"Same."
Yuhan's tone was wistful. "Every time I think about disappearing, I remember the people waiting for me — my fans, my team, my family. And yet… sometimes I wish someone would just tell me it's okay to stop."
Li Wei met his eyes. "Then I'll tell you now. It's okay to stop."
The words hung in the air — simple, sincere, heavy with meaning.
For a moment, Yuhan didn't move. Then he whispered, "You really believe that?"
"I do."
Yuhan exhaled softly, like something inside him finally loosened.
"Thank you," he said quietly. "You always say things like they're answers to questions I didn't know I asked."
Li Wei laughed under his breath. "Maybe we're just tuned to the same kind of quiet."
That made Yuhan smile — really smile. "That's poetic."
Li Wei blushed faintly. "I didn't mean for it to be."
"I like it," Yuhan said. His voice softened. "You're like quiet sunlight, Li Wei. You don't ask for attention. You just… make everything warmer."
The words hit Li Wei somewhere deep.
He looked down, trying not to show the small, helpless smile tugging at his lips.
"Careful," he murmured. "You'll make people fall for you if you keep talking like that."
Yuhan's laughter was quiet — but there was something in it, something fragile and real.
"Maybe that's not the worst thing."
They both froze at that — neither daring to move.
Outside, thunder rolled distantly, as if echoing what neither dared to say.
Li Wei changed the subject first, his voice trembling just slightly. "Have you eaten?"
Yuhan blinked. "Not really."
"I'll make you something," Li Wei said, standing quickly, grateful for an excuse to move.
He went into the small kitchen, heating milk and stirring noodles with a steadiness that didn't match the rhythm of his heart.
When he returned, Yuhan was still sitting by the window, watching the rain like it was something sacred.
Li Wei set the bowl down gently. "It's simple. Don't expect anything fancy."
Yuhan smiled, picking up the chopsticks. "I haven't had anything simple in months."
He took a bite — then looked up, eyes soft. "This is the best thing I've eaten all week."
Li Wei laughed. "You say that about coffee too."
"Maybe I mean it both times."
Their eyes met again — a quiet spark, familiar yet new.
Neither spoke, but something shifted between them.
Something small, but unmistakable.
---
Later, when Yuhan stood to leave, the rain had stopped. The air smelled of wet pavement and coffee grounds.
He turned to Li Wei before opening the door. "If I leave next week for the final leg of the tour… will you still be here when I get back?"
Li Wei smiled, gentle and sure. "I'll be right here."
Yuhan hesitated — then reached out, fingers brushing Li Wei's wrist for the briefest moment.
"Then I'll come back," he said softly. "No cameras. No names. Just… me."
And then he was gone.
Li Wei stood by the door long after the bell stopped ringing, staring at the small fogged circle on the glass where Yuhan's breath had lingered.
He whispered to the empty café,
"Just you. I can wait."
Outside, the streetlights shimmered through the mist.
Somewhere beyond the rooftops, the city exhaled — and the rain began again.
---
End of Chapter 4