Mr. Mint

“I heard that when you're hurting, if you cry out all the bitterness and pain, you'll feel better... Do you want to try?”

“Really?”

“Mm,” he replied firmly.

Then Fu Yan saw Teacher Bo He's eyes grow misty, as though veiled in fog. Tears slipped from the corners of his eyes unchecked, one, then two, then streaming down his cheeks.

“Why does it still hurt so much?” Bo He choked out to Fu Yan like a child.

Seventeen-year-old Fu Yan was at a complete loss, then slowly wrapped his arms around him. “It's okay. Everything will be all right.”

Dazed, Bo He found the embrace warm. He nuzzled into the crook of Fu Yan's neck, then fell asleep.

That day, Fu Yan, who wasn't even as tall as Bo He, somehow found the strength to carry him all the way home.

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