Unsaid emotions bloomed between Wang Yibo and Xiao Zhan at school, but they were driven apart by animosity rooted in their hearts because of Jiang Zhuocheng.
Ten years later, they find themselves face-to-face once again, the tension between them pal...
The four bandmates return to their hometown near midnight and separate their ways, each heading toward their own homes. As the cab rides through the familiar streets, memories of their childhood flood back, bringing smiles to their faces. Not only that, the streetlights cast a warm glow on the quiet neighborhood, and the sound of crickets filling the air is quite an addition.
The car stops, and Cheng gets out with his bags in one hand and his little brother in the other. He shares a smile with Zhan before walking over to the door and pressing the doorbell.
The door swings open to reveal a woman in her late 40s with dark eyes and a smile that rivals the sun, pulling Cheng into a hug and inhaling his scent giddily. For anyone who sees this interaction, they may balk at witnessing a fully grown man embraced by his mother in such a manner, but for Cheng, this is comfort and familiarity.
As he moves inside, he is greeted by the enthusiastic yapping of a toy poodle at his feet. Setting his bags down, he picks up the small dog and cuddles it to his chest. "Hey, Máo Máo," he says, scratching under its chin and laughing at the way the dog keeps trying to attack his fingers.
"Yeah, yeah, I miss you too," he smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of the dog's head before turning to Zhan and patting him on the shoulder. "Good night, Zhan!" With that, he carries his bags and the dog to his room for a nice, peaceful sleep in his home after long months.
"Ahem!" a voice clears its throat.
Zhan turns his head to see Yu Ziyuan, arms crossed, glaring at him. "M-Mom," he pastes a smile on his face before forcing his feet to move like a rat, rushing up the stairs to where his old bedroom is and getting inside.
His hands shake, but he forces himself to calm down, locking all his emotions in a tight box deep inside him. His room is how he left it—everything in place, dust settled. He knows he needs to clean, but his exhaustion says 'later,' so he opens a closet, takes out a fresh bedsheet, spreads it over the bed, and then settles in.
In a blink, he drifts off into a deep, dreamless sleep. The hours pass by in a blur, and when he finally wakes up, the room is lit by the sun. He sits up slowly, feeling like he's been run over by a truck, but it's not new, as he knows how it will be to sleep late at night.
Throwing off the blanket, he finishes his morning routine before beginning the cleanup. He starts with the wall, then moves on to the furniture, and finally tackles the floor. Moving from task to task, the only background noise comes from the radio, which helps him stay focused and avoid unnecessary thoughts.
As he dusts off the shelf and rearranges the books neatly, his fingers brush over the carving of a couple kissing under a tree. It was his handiwork when he was twelve, but now it is a bittersweet reminder of where his heart lingers. He places his hand on his chest, feeling it beat as his fingers brush over his lips, recalling a moment that remains unsaid and carved in there.
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