Time flew by, and even winter was drawing to a close.
During the New Year period, Xia Xiqing didn’t return to the Xia family home—it had never truly been his home anyway. Besides, he’d long since grown accustomed to spending the holidays alone and didn’t think much of it. But this time was different. Zhou Ziheng stayed with him until the twenty-ninth day of the twelfth lunar month, only heading to the West Hill villa on New Year’s Eve.
The house was bustling with activity, filled with people everywhere. Zhou Ziheng removed his scarf and down jacket, handing them to Aunt Hong. His father was entertaining relatives in the living room, seated beside a young girl who seemed to have been brought along by one of the families. Zhou Ziheng greeted them and offered New Year’s wishes before slipping into the kitchen.
“Mom.”
Just as his mother scooped a spoonful of chicken soup from the clay pot to taste it, her son returned. She quickly brought the spoon to Zhou Ziheng’s lips. “Hengheng, help me taste it. Does it need more salt?” Zhou Ziheng blew on it twice before drinking the soup. “Delicious.” He licked his lips. “Mom, how many days off does your institute give?”
“Until the eighth day of the new year, but I have to go back early. There’s a very important project still pending. These next few days, I’ll just stay home and cook something nice for you guys.”
Seeing his mother so happy, Zhou Ziheng wrapped his arm around hers and tentatively asked, “Mom, who are those people outside?”
“Your dad’s childhood friend. They grew up together in a courtyard house.” Mom brought out more sliced fruit, skewered a piece of dragon fruit with a toothpick, and held it to Zhou Ziheng’s mouth. He quickly took the toothpick and asked, “And that girl next to him…”
“My precious daughter, of course.” Mom laughed, seeming to tease Zhou Ziheng on purpose. “What do you think? Pretty?”
The moment the word “pretty” came up, Zhou Ziheng’s mind flashed only to Xia Xiqing, sitting quietly at his easel painting.
“Don’t even think about setting me up! What era are we in? Arranged marriages still exist?” Zhou Ziheng didn’t even realize he was completely contradicting himself.
His mother shot him a glance and closed the kitchen door. “Just teasing you. You talk too much.” She bent her head to slice spring bamboo shoots. Zhou Ziheng wanted to help but couldn’t find a way to intervene, just as he couldn’t find a way to speak up.
“Mom, actually, I have…”
“I know what you’re going to say.” Mom lifted her head, her expression calm. “Your sister-in-law told me.”
“Sister-in-law? She…” Zhou Ziheng hadn’t expected Jiang Yin to tell his mother. The news caught him completely off guard. “Why would she…”
“I sensed something was off during your confinement. I pressed her several times before she finally confided in me—and asked me to keep it from you.” Zhou’s mother placed the sliced bamboo shoots into the chicken broth and covered the pot. “I don’t know if this is innate or something you’ve developed later,” she met Zhou Ziheng’s gaze, “but if it were merely a passing fancy, there’d be no need to mention it at all.” “It’s not like that,” Zhou Ziheng immediately protested, though he realized his tone was overly sharp and softened it. “It wasn’t a whim. I genuinely care for him. No…” Zhou Ziheng was dissatisfied with his choice of words. “I love him.”
Mrs. Zhou set down what she was holding and turned to face Zhou Ziheng. She had given birth to him young, and even now, her face bore few signs of age—only a wise, mature beauty. She watched him silently for a moment, seemingly trying to decipher the expression on her son’s face.
“Truthfully, I struggled to accept it at first. I lay awake for nights on end, filled with regret. I felt I shouldn’t have let you enter that world. You should have focused on your studies, followed my path into research—it seemed the natural course.”
She lowered her eyes. “But your sister-in-law assured me you hadn’t been corrupted by that world. You’re still the same person, only more whole now. Even so, I couldn’t accept it. It wasn’t that I wanted to take away your right to love someone—it was that this situation was beyond my imagination.”
Zhou Ziheng lowered his head, opening his mouth but finding no words. As a son, he truly lacked the courage to lay everything bare.
“Compared to many families, ours has been relatively harmonious and happy. Though you grew up in the entertainment industry, we never neglected your education or care. I don’t know exactly where things went wrong.” His mother’s brow furrowed slightly, revealing a look of confusion.
Zhou Ziheng looked at her. The bewilderment in his mother’s eyes struck a soft spot in his heart. Deep down, he feared hurting her.
More than whether she could accept it, Zhou Ziheng dreaded her blaming her own neglect for his attraction to men.
That wasn’t true, which was precisely why he feared it.
But the next moment, her frown smoothed out, her eyes filling with relief.
“But later, I came to understand.”
She lifted her head and gently stroked Zhou Ziheng’s cheek. “I didn’t make a mistake, and neither did you.”
“My son simply fell for someone—and that someone just happened to be a boy too.” She smiled. “The logic is actually quite simple, isn’t it?”
Zhou Ziheng felt a lump in his throat. He had so much he wanted to say, but in this moment, his emotions overwhelmed his rational thoughts. He hadn’t realized his mother had silently grappled with his feelings for so many days and nights. As a mother, she must have struggled and panicked, especially since his path wasn’t the mainstream one.
But Zhou Ziheng himself had never walked the mainstream path, from childhood onward.
A lump formed in his throat. After a long pause, he finally managed to say in a steady voice, “Mom, thank you.”
“Don’t cry on a holiday like this,” she patted Zhou Ziheng’s shoulder. “Don’t bring this up at the dinner table today. Your father knows nothing about it, and he’s impatient. We’ll discuss it carefully. If you truly care for him, Mom will support you.”
In truth, this had been Zhou Ziheng’s most agonizing part. Though he’d braced for the worst—accepting that his family’s lack of blessing might hurt him—he believed sacrificing some perfection was acceptable as long as he didn’t lose Xia Xiqing.
Yet for a child raised in such a loving family, the place family held in his heart was profoundly significant.
He was prepared to let go of that vital piece. He had steeled himself for it. Yet now, that very piece was telling him: You did nothing wrong.
You won’t lose me.
In that instant, Zhou Ziheng felt like the luckiest man alive.
Early on the first day of the new year, Zhou Ziheng hurried back to Haidian. His mother had specially packed him many health supplements, ostensibly for him, but as he left, she kept giving him meaningful glances, “Tell him Happy New Year for me.”
His father, who had come out to see him off, looked utterly confused. “Happy New Year to whom?”
Mother and son answered in unison, “To you~”
Zhou Ziheng dropped the supplements and rushed over, wrapping his arms around Xia Xiqing’s legs. He met fierce resistance. “What are you doing? I’m working!”
“My little painter, you’re so diligent!” Zhou Ziheng lifted him off the chair, spun him around once before setting him down, then pinned his shoulders and planted kisses on both cheeks. “Such a good boy.”
“You’re crazy.” Xia Xiqing wiped his face in disgust, then spotted Zhou’s shoes and couldn’t help but yell, “Why did you come in with your shoes on? Go change them right now! You’re driving me crazy!”
Zhou stuck out his tongue but obediently ran back to the entryway to change. He planned to tell Xia Xiqing about his mother’s discovery only after everything was settled, to spare him worry.
“We’re never buying such a big place again. Cleaning it is exhausting.” Xia Xiqing sat on the floor, twisting open a bottle of water.
Hearing him mention future home purchases, Zhou Ziheng felt an inexplicable pang in his chest. A vivid image of the future suddenly filled his mind.
“Just hire a cleaning lady.” Zhou Ziheng walked over, sat down, and pulled him into an embrace.
Xia Xiqing’s gaze drifted off into the distance, looking genuinely exhausted. He spoke slowly, like a worn-out kitten, “New Year cleaning is meant to be done by ourselves.”
“You’re too adorable.”
“Get lost. You’re the cute one.”
“The fact that you won’t admit you’re cute is the cutest thing!”
“…Looking for a fight on New Year’s Day, huh?”
Just as they were bickering, a call came in—Xia Zhixu inviting them over for dinner. Xia Xiqing hadn’t agreed yet, but Zhou Ziheng was all for it, chiming in eagerly beside him. Xia Xiqing couldn’t help but give in. The two split up, entering Xia Zhixu’s residential complex through different gates before arriving at his place.
“This is like Mission Impossible—your romance sure isn’t easy.” Xia Zhixu opened the door for Zhou Ziheng, who arrived later. After taking off his hat and mask, Zhou stepped inside and saw Xia Xiqing, who’d been there a while, sitting at the dining table helping Xu Qichen wrap dumplings.
“Brother Ziheng!”
Before he could react, a figure shot straight toward him and hugged him like a little bomb. Looking down, he recognized Xia Xiuze. “You came too?”
“Yeah, I’m Xia Zhixu’s—” His words were cut off mid-sentence by a kick to the shin from Xia Zhixu, effectively kicking the rest of his sentence back. “Hehe, I heard you were coming, so I came too.”
Zhou Ziheng stifled a laugh as he walked over to Xia Xiqing. “These are the dumplings you made? Not a shred of artistic flair.”
Xia Xiqing shot him a glare. “You’re just looking for a fight.”
He wasn’t much of a cook to begin with, and his dumplings were stuffed so haphazardly they leaked filling. He’d no choice but to step aside, letting Zhou Ziheng take his place and help Xu Qichen with the dumplings. Xia Zhixu was busy gaming with Xia Xiuze, but Xiuze kept losing round after round. Watching him, Xia Xiqing was itching to roll up his sleeves himself. “Can you even play? If not, just step away.” “
Xia Xiuze pouted and shifted his butt. “Then win it back for me.”
“Leave it to me.” Xia Xiqing snatched the controller. “Watch your big bro wipe the floor with them.”
Xia Zhixu snorted. “Don’t go setting yourself up for failure. Once Chen Fang gets here, we’ll have a three-player match. “
“Bring it on.”
“What if we lose?”
“Whatever you say.”
With nothing else to do, Xia Xiuze browsed around and noticed a towering stack of boxes in the living room corner. “Zhixu… Brother, what’s this?”
Hearing him call him “Brother,” Xia Zhixu finally turned back to explain, “My mom had me move these over from home a couple days ago. Said she had no place to store her old stuff.”
“Old stuff?” Xia Xiuze chuckled, sitting cross-legged on the floor and starting to rummage through the boxes. “I love old stuff!”
“Go ahead and pick. If you find anything you like, take it home.”
“Okay!”
Truthfully, there wasn’t anything particularly special. Mostly it was Xia Zhixu’s old hard drives and some books, mostly programming and physics related. Xia Xiuze dug to the bottom and found a large photo album.
“Wow, so many pictures of you when you were little.”
Xu Qichen quickly wrapped the last one, washed his hands, and dashed over. “Let me see!”
“Brother Chenchen, haven’t you seen these before?” Xia Xiuze asked, turning his head.
Xu Qichen shook his head. “I’ve seen some of them, but this one doesn’t seem to be here.” He looked down at the yellowed old photograph. “Wow, your buck teeth were so prominent when you were little. How come you had buck teeth even before losing your baby teeth?” He flipped back a few pages, landing on a photo of two young children, both around three or four years old. They sat side by side on a small stool, looking as plump and round as glutinous rice balls.
Xu Qichen frowned in confusion. “Is this your brother next to you? He doesn’t look that young.” He held the album up for Xia Zhixu to see. Xia Zhixu glanced at it. “That’s Xia Xiqing.”
“You two looked so alike as kids, more than real brothers.” Xu Qichen added quietly, nudging Xia Xiuze’s shoulder. “But your brother was prettier, right?”
Xia Xiuze nodded, murmuring softly, “Brother looked like a girl when he was little.”
“Did you just say that?!”
“I didn’t say anything!” Xia Xiuze scurried like a little mouse behind Xu Qichen, burying his head as he frantically flipped through the album.
Zhou Ziheng heard their voices from afar and wanted to join them, but he still had several dumplings left to wrap. He hurriedly finished the last one, neatly stacked them, washed his hands quickly, and rushed to the living room.
“Hey, wait! Who’s this?” Xu Qichen pressed down on one page Xia Xiuze couldn’t turn, then pointed to a figure in the photo. “Who’s this little girl?”
Zhou Ziheng sat down beside Xu Qichen. When he saw the photo Xu was pointing at, his heart suddenly skipped two beats.
A vague, childhood memory suddenly flashed through his mind.
A girl in a white dress held out a white rose to him. “Take this. No more crying. I’ll take you to find your mom.”
“I…” Little Zhou Ziheng sniffled, sobbing. “My mom isn’t here.”
The girl’s footsteps faltered. “Is that so? My mom isn’t here either…”
The six-year-old boy clung to his legs, tears streaming down his face. “Sister, I’m scared. So many people are watching me. I want to cry.”
“I’m not your sister,” he pulled Zhou Ziheng away, crouching down to steady his shoulders. “And don’t be afraid.”
“There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
Pulling himself out of the memory, Zhou Ziheng’s heartbeat refused to calm. The face, blurred by time in his recollection, gradually merged with the girl in the photo album.
“Who is this?”
Xia Xiqing’s taunt had come true. Xia Zhixu had indeed lost. He tossed aside his controller, walked over, picked up the photo album, and squinted at it before bursting into laughter. “Hahaha, Xia Xiqing, look! Your beauty black history!”
“What the hell…” Xia Xiqing was still basking in the excitement of winning the game. Seeing Xia Zhixu so amused left him baffled. He walked over to look. The photo showed a girl in a white long dress, her waist-length black hair cascading down. The picture wasn’t very clear, but the background was unmistakably Xia Zhixu’s home.
Xia Zhixu held it like a prized treasure, childishly passing it around for everyone to see. “Listen up, this was either fifth or sixth grade—definitely summer vacation. Me, Xia Xiqing, and Chen Fang were playing a game. He lost three rounds in a row, so we made him wear my mom’s skirt. She even helped us dress him up. Pretty cute, huh? Hahahaha!”
Xia Xiqing shot him a disgusted glance. “What the hell? That never happened. You’re just making this up.”
“It’s true! The physical evidence is right here, and the witness will be here soon! Your memory is terrible—how could you forget something so important?”
“My hippocampus has a mind of its own. It erases all embarrassing memories.” Xia Xiqing rolled his eyes at him, then turned his head to see Zhou Ziheng staring intently at the photo. He nudged his crossed legs with his foot. “Hey, stop looking.”
Zhou Ziheng suddenly lifted his head, scrutinizing Xia Xiqing’s face intently before lowering his gaze back to the photo, repeating this several times.
“I told you to stop looking!” Xia Xiqing lunged to grab the album, only to be swept into Zhou Ziheng’s arms. “You’re that girl!”
Xia Xiqing shoved him away. “Who’s a girl?! Speak properly!”
Zhou Ziheng urgently turned to Xia Zhixu for confirmation. “Didn’t you guys go to a park back then?”
“Yes! My mom took us to Zhongshan Park.” Xia Zhixu sat on the sofa, still laughing as she grabbed Xu Qichen’s hand to rub her stomach. “But then he disappeared somewhere on his own. We had to search everywhere before finally finding him. I thought he’d gone autistic—Xia Xiqing, the cross-dressing master, hahaha.”
What?
Why couldn’t he recall any of this? Had his childhood been so miserable he’d selectively forgotten everything?
But when he tried to remember the past, all Xia Xiqing could recall was pain and torment—hardly any happy moments. This “cross-dressing master” business? He had no memory of it whatsoever.
Yet as he pondered, fragments suddenly flashed through his mind: the small playground in the park, the grassy area beneath the roller coaster, a sobbing child stuttering and clinging to him, refusing to let go.
No wonder Zhou Ziheng had always seemed familiar from childhood.
“It can’t be that coincidental…”
Zhou Ziheng’s face betrayed unmistakable excitement. “My very first film shoot was in Hankou. I’ve wanted to visit that park again, but I was afraid you wouldn’t be happy about it, so I never brought it up.”
Xu Qichen, who had been listening to their conversation, struggled to piece it together. “Wait, so you two met when you were kids?”
“She’s the older sister I liked when I was little.” Zhou Ziheng grabbed Xia Xiqing’s hand. Xia Xiqing pried his fingers off and pressed his hand to his forehead. “What older sister… Oh, my head hurts.”
“Exactly! I got lost in the park, and he folded roses for me out of paper.” Zhou Ziheng couldn’t describe his current emotions. He could scarcely believe that the little sister from back then was actually Xia Xiqing. He grabbed his hand. “Can you still fold them now?”
“I think…” Xia Xiqing tore off a tissue and lowered his head. “I’ll try…”
“Damn it, Xia Xiqing, how old were you when you started messing with people?”
“Tsk tsk, I wouldn’t even dare write this in my novels…”
“Brother, you look so pretty in that skirt!”
“Shut… up…”
The room descended into chaos, yet Zhou Ziheng remained utterly silent. He felt as if he were dreaming. His whole being was lightheaded, as if floating on a cloud. Nothing could be more blissful than this.
That fleeting glimpse he’d never forgotten, after fifteen long years of twists and turns, had finally returned to him.
So the so-called white rose was actually the red rose before him.
“You are my first love.”
The words drifted like a feather, softly landing by Xia Xiqing’s ear. He lowered his head, and the memories lost in the river of time seemed to be slowly piecing themselves back together. That little bundle who cried—it turned out to be the person standing before him.
“What?” Xia Xiqing muttered under his breath, head bowed. “Turns out I’ve been jealous of myself all this time.”
Lifting his head, their eyes met, and both couldn’t help but laugh.
“I hated you so much at first,” Zhou Ziheng chuckled, “Why couldn’t I recognize you the first time we met? I was such a fool.”
Recalling their sharp-tongued first encounter, Zhou Ziheng was filled with regret.
“I forgive you,” Xia Xiqing pinched his chin, smiling proudly with pursed lips, “considering how long you’ve secretly liked me.”
Thank goodness. Thank goodness.
They hadn’t missed each other.
Xia Xiqing smiled as he placed a folded paper rose into Zhou Ziheng’s palm.
That crying child from long ago stumbled through the mists of time, carried by the spring breeze to crash into his embrace.
Tears transformed into tender kisses, innocence into a heart full of fervor.
He embraced the man who had gritted his teeth and endured for years, gently patting his back.
This time, it was his turn to say, “Don’t be afraid.”
