The combat training ground in Jiangcheng was where Shen Yanhe and Lu Xingye’s story began.
Everyone knew that Shen Yanhe, a third-year student, was gentle and mild-mannered, with eyes that curved into slits when he smiled. He had earned the nickname “Simi Da.” He had gone from being the worst in the group at physical training to one of its top performers, and he couldn’t stand seeing new students struggle on the training ground.
Everyone also knew that Lu Xingye, a first-year student, was a natural-born fitness fanatic. He could leave the older students half a lap behind on a five-kilometer run, yet he was hopelessly clumsy in combat class. He sweated buckets trying to throw a training dummy and became the whole group’s laughingstock.
That day, everyone was laughing at him. Everyone except Shen Yanhe, who walked over with a bottle of cold water and held out his hand.
From then on, the brash, defiant boy put away all his prickles. Only with Shen Yanhe did his expression soften. His proper “Brother Shen” gradually turned into a sweetly drawn-out “Ge.”
Beneath the streetlights of the training ground late at night, they ran five kilometers side by side, lap after lap, and practiced countless combat moves together. The boy’s dependence quietly changed into something more, and the gentle senior’s heartbeat lost its rhythm.
Shen Yanhe was full of misgivings and inner conflict. He feared crossing the line of discipline and ruining the boy’s future, but he couldn’t resist Lu Xingye’s warm breath as he leaned closer, the starlight in his eyes, or the feelings in his own heart that had long since gone off course.
On the day they confessed their feelings, the rain drumming against the equipment room couldn’t drown out their heartbeats. Lu Xingye wrapped his arms around Shen Yanhe’s waist and, eyes red, asked if he dared.
Shen Yanhe lowered his head and kissed him, then softly gave him the most resolute answer of his life: “Yes.”
Later, he waited two years for the boy, braving the wind and snow of Nanjiang.
