“Thank you.”

As soon as he sat up, Ling Xinlu bowed his head politely, then used the wet towel on the tray to wipe himself down before putting on his clothes. When his fingers brushed over the burn mark left behind from saving the mugwort, a lingering sting still clung to the spot. He cast a casual glance at the patch of skin about to scar, then calmly buttoned his shirt.

The old man sitting across from him remained silent, offering no reply. Despite months of treatment, there had been no progress. Though Ling Xinlu himself never mentioned it, the old man seemed to carry the weight of guilt. Perhaps the Ling clan or some other relatives were pressuring him behind his master’s back.

Ling Xinlu, however, was unbothered. Not because he was patiently waiting—but because he had long abandoned hope for this eye.

There had been veiled suggestions about corneal transplants from others, but the thought of another person’s body part existing inside his own disgusted him so much that he refused outright.

One eye was enough to live. Even if there were occasional inconveniences he’d never faced before when he still had both, aside from feeling more exhausted by the end of the day from overusing his remaining eye, everything was still manageable.

Besides, several months had already passed. Short of an eye transplant, every other method had been tried—and all were useless. Petty debates like ‘ivory white or cream white’ were enough to make him laugh out loud just hearing them.

Rehabilitation, therapy, medication—all of it was as hopeless as drums beating out of sync with flutes.

But he saw no need to stop those who were eager to seek a cure.

Not out of false hope, but because whether they tried or not, he had no desire to reveal his brooding thoughts through extreme reactions.

Once he had straightened his robes, Ling Xinlu lifted the tent flap. Normally, Yuri would already be sitting upright in his usual spot—but now, only empty space remained.

He recalled the early days of his treatment, when that figure was still there. The memory surfaced of that person sitting neatly by the tent opening, their back perfectly straight as they faced the courtyard.

Yet at some point, as if someone had carried a heavy load past him, there was the faint sound of someone rising, followed by their voice: “Let me help.” Then, in a flash, that figure vanished behind the tent flap and never returned.

Seeing that Yuri still hadn’t come back despite being gone for quite a while, Ling Xinlu suddenly wondered: ‘Maybe that man got caught up in some unexpected business after leaving to help?’

“Then I’ll take my leave first. Until next week.”

After bowing to the old man, Ling Xinlu stepped out onto the veranda.

Standing in the vast estate, he hesitated for a moment, unsure where to even begin looking for Yuri. A part of him questioned: ‘Is it necessary to go searching myself? If I just wait here, surely he’ll return eventually.’

Yet even as he thought this, his feet had already begun moving.

After all, he had time to spare. A leisurely stroll while keeping an eye out wouldn’t hurt. So he set off at a light pace, his gaze drifting idly across the quiet corners of the courtyard.

**************

Finding Yuri within the vast estate grounds wasn’t difficult.

The man’s foreign appearance alone made him stand out, and asking just a few people quickly yielded sightings of him.

This time, Yuri was sitting by the stone wall near the side gate—a less frequented spot—forcing Ling Xinlu to ask more people than usual. The moment he got directions, he hurried over, half-afraid Yuri might have already left. But Yuri was still there.

That upright silhouette perched on a bare tree root was unmistakable. Just as Ling Xinlu moved to approach, he slowed his steps upon noticing an elderly woman seated beside Yuri.

A large earthenware jar by the wall had its lid removed, likely filled with goods the old woman had hauled in. Judging by the scene, Yuri must have helped her carry the heavy load.

Ling Xinlu edged closer quietly, tilting his head to listen.

The old woman had worked for the Ling clan before he was born. Though she’d moved here long ago from Tibet, her thick Tibetan accent remained nearly incomprehensible to unfamiliar ears. Even Ling Xinlu sometimes struggled to grasp her words—let alone Yuri, who only knew Mandarin. For a foreigner, his Mandarin was decent, but understanding the old woman was plainly impossible.

Moreover, she spoke no Mandarin at all, relying solely on local dialect or Tibetan, which often left her unable to watch TV alone. She needed someone nearby to roughly translate for her to follow along.

Thus, the conversation between these two should’ve been mutually unintelligible. Yet Ling Xinlu soon nodded in realization. This mirrored his encounter with the elder sun-drying mugwort—it wasn’t the first time. Strangely, Yuri kept chatting as if they were truly communicating.

Just like right now.

“So you see, it wasn’t until I was past fifty that my old man finally kicked the bucket. That bastard spent his whole life obsessed with mahjong, then ran off to the battlefield, piled up debts till it made you sick. In the end, he died. Served him right!”

“So you and your husband played cards together and lived harmoniously till old age?”

“I was married off at eighteen, spent forty years bent double paying off his debts. When I was young, everyone praised my beauty, but being wed to that good-for-nothing ruined me. By the time he died, I was already as shriveled as rotten wood.”

“Then even after marriage, your husband cherished you well into your twilight years?”

“That husband of mine……. he had gentle-looking eyes, rather like yours, young man. Plenty of girls chased him in his youth. Thankfully he never strayed……. Not that it matters now – that old fool collapsed walking down the street, gasped once and was gone. Hah! Served him right! Good riddance!”

“I see. So he’s passed away then.”

Ling Xinlu stopped completely, folding his arms as he observed the back of their heads.

It was mostly like this.

From a distance, they appeared to be having a pleasant conversation. But up close, it became comical. Unable to understand each other’s language, Yuri would occasionally catch familiar words and extrapolate the entire dialogue.

Sometimes this situation was more comical than an actual comedy.

Ling Xinlu chuckled softly and perched himself on the low stone wall. He wanted to see just how many times this could make him laugh.

The old woman continued lamenting her life’s misfortunes. Whether Yuri understood or not didn’t matter – she simply needed someone to listen. Having worked for the Ling clan for so long, Ling Xinlu understood her circumstances somewhat.

Her life had been one of relentless hardship.

Married off to an older man, she’d left her distant homeland to follow her husband here. The gambling-addicted husband piled up debts, forcing her to toil from dawn till dusk without rest. Gradually, not only did her body grow gaunt, but her spirit withered too. Every day she’d curse her husband, while the weak-willed man would fumble about before sneaking off to gamble. Life went on like this.

Then one day, without warning, her husband collapsed in the street, hit his head hard on something, and died instantly. They had no children.

That was the end of their marriage. It happened over ten years ago.

“People say husband and wife are karmic enemies from past lives—how true that is. That old bastard was truly my nemesis. Oh heavens……. If only he’d died earlier when I was still young, perhaps I could’ve found someone else. Because of that wretched old man, look what I’ve become now, that damned…….”

After her long lament, she seemed to have exhausted her words, muttering only curses now. Under the blazing golden sunlight, she stared blankly at the stone wall, endlessly murmuring: “That karmic enemy……. Oh heavens…….”

Yuri, sitting beside her, continued gazing attentively at the old woman before suddenly speaking softly:

“You must miss him terribly, don’t you?”

The old woman fell silent, as if she had understood Yuri’s words.

But in truth, she hadn’t. Yuri’s words never reached her ears. She was lost in her memories, temporarily robbed of speech. Then she resumed her muttering: “Only brought me endless suffering, oh heavens, that damned man…….”

Yuri gently took her wrinkled hand in his. Unaware of whose hand held hers, the old woman kept cursing her deceased husband. Tears rolled down her deeply lined face. “That damned man……. That damned man…….” – She repeated the words like a mantra.

Ling Xinlu observed them quietly for a moment before standing up. Initially, he’d intended to watch for amusement, but there was nothing funny about this.

Even though he didn’t exactly sympathize with the old woman’s feelings – though he thought her life story was rather foolish – he found no enjoyment in the scene either. It wasn’t discomfort or aversion, but rather a heavy sensation pressing against his chest.

Only after considerable reflection did he realize this feeling didn’t stem from the old woman, but from Yuri.

Why was that?

The answer came to him only after much longer contemplation.

Yuri was genuinely conversing with her.

Even when the conversation seemed meaningless, he was clearly communicating with the old woman. He listened not just to the surface of words, but to what lay buried deep within.

——”You must miss him terribly, don’t you?”

Just like when they’d first met, Yuri had seen straight through Ling Xinlu’s heart.

He understood people’s inner thoughts – sometimes more clearly than they did themselves – and from that understanding, he guided the conversation.

**************

“Are you okay?”

The warm towel touched his eyelid and paused, as always, hovering just shy of making contact with skin. Only after receiving Ling Xinlu’s confirmation did Yuri place the towel over his eyes, the temperature perfectly moderate. Despite having personally checked the heat, Yuri always asked Ling Xinlu first before applying the compress. Then, he gently laid his hand atop it.

That warm palm added comforting weight to the towel and, following their usual routine, lingered momentarily before beginning to massage lightly around his eyelids. Surprisingly, Ling Xinlu found himself enjoying this sensation.

It wasn’t just his eyes – his entire body relaxed, savoring the warmth and comfort that had long since become familiar. Every time after bathing, he would often stretch out across Yuri’s lap. Those were a man’s hands, rough and strong. Yet the fingers massaging around Ling Xinlu’s eyes were tender and meticulous, as if caressing his very soul.

Just like Yuri himself.

Beneath that cold, emotionless exterior lay feelings as gentle and tranquil as still water.

“Did you and Aunt Mei have a pleasant date?”

In that state of relaxation where his very soul seemed to melt, Ling Xinlu asked with a soft chuckle. The hand massaging his eyes paused briefly, but immediately resumed its soothing motion along with a simple reply: “Mmm.”

After her lengthy complaints to Yuri, old Mrs. Mei had returned home, carrying the now-empty jar Yuri helped her transport. As for Ling Xinlu, having failed to find the right moment to intervene, he had quietly followed them at a distance.

Yuri noticed Ling Xinlu trailing behind, but when their eyes met, Xinlu waved for him to continue, so Yuri silently accompanied the old woman until the end of the lane. Throughout, Mrs. Mei kept up her endless lamentations while Yuri occasionally responded with his ridiculous non-sequiturs. Their mismatched conversation occasionally drew soft laughter from Ling Xinlu, though Mrs. Mei – half-deaf and never looking back – remained oblivious, leaving only Yuri to occasionally glance back in embarrassed awareness.

“Did you actually understand even half—no, even a quarter—of what Aunt Mei was saying?”

Ling Xinlu asked, but received no answer. He could only chuckle.

“Aunt Mei and her husband had a marriage with a significant age gap, but little happiness. Her husband spent all day playing mahjong*, accumulating debts that forced Aunt Mei to toil endlessly. Because of this, their home echoed nightly with her miserable weeping and screaming…….”

Though it happened long ago, Ling Xinlu still vividly remembered the one time he’d heard her cries. Her voice had risen in furious anguish, like the wails of vengeful spirits in hell—so shocking it had made his eyes widen in astonishment.

“Then he died. On his way back from the market, he tripped over a rock and fell—a completely senseless death. The sudden passing of someone who’d been perfectly healthy threw everyone into panic. They hurriedly prepared the funeral, yet the atmosphere wasn’t exactly one of deep sorrow or regret.”

“…….”

“It wasn’t that he was a bad person—simply that he’d grown too old. Aunt Mei was nearly twenty years his junior; he’d already passed seventy by then.”

Ling Xinlu added: “Seventy might still be considered healthy nowadays, but back then it was different.”

He hadn’t attended the funeral personally. The Ling clan had merely sent representatives to pay respects and offer condolences, with no one going in person. But afterward, he’d heard the stories circulating among the servants. Though she’d known he was old and would depart first, Mrs. Mei had wailed miserably, repeating over and over: “I knew this would happen, I just knew it…….”

“…….Even though he was the husband who made her life miserable, perhaps she still missed him?”

Ling Xinlu asked with a quiet chuckle.

He could almost hear Yuri’s gentle voice saying: “You must miss him terribly, don’t you?”

Yuri remained silent for a moment before replying: “Mmm.”

“She kept repeating: ‘That old man, that old man’, so I thought perhaps she missed him. And no matter what she says, the fact she constantly brings him up proves she still cares and wants to see him again.”

Ling Xinlu remained silent. As he continued gently massaging Xinlu’s eyelids, Yuri spoke again:

“When living with someone of such significant age difference, every moment together becomes precious and regrettable. Perhaps that’s why she talks about him so much.”

Though she knew this perfectly well, Mrs. Mei had never fully cherished that time. She resented her husband for wasting their days on trivial matters, and blamed herself for letting those years slip meaninglessly by.

But now, everything had become the past—all was over. That was her life.

A long silence stretched between them. Suddenly, Ling Xinlu found himself wondering what expression Yuri wore behind the warm compress covering his eyes. Yet simultaneously, he felt he already knew.

Undoubtedly, Yuri maintained his usual composed expression, but his slightly narrowed eyes and pressed lips would conceal a quiet sorrow for Aunt Mei.

Then abruptly, without warning or reason, a realization flashed through his mind:

‘Ah, yes. This man. This exact quality!’

A novel sensation washed over him.

Ling Xinlu already knew what kind of person Yuri Gable was. He knew the man wasn’t as cold as his exterior suggested, but rather deeply emotional and sensitive. Yet despite this knowledge, in this moment it crystallized into concrete awareness, as if he’d just experienced some profound truth.

‘Why does my heart suddenly ache like this?’

“Wait a moment.”

The compress seemed to have cooled.

Yuri removed the towel from Ling Xinlu’s eyes, dipped it back into the basin of warm water to reheat it, then wrung it dry. Just as predicted, Yuri’s face remained as calm and expressionless as ever. Ling Xinlu gazed up at him intently.

“By the way……. How much older is Mr. Gable than me?”

A question suddenly surfaced in his mind, one he’d never considered before.

Yuri folded the towel neatly, tilting his head as if it mattered little: “Twelve? Thirteen? Thereabouts.”

“…….You really are an uncle.”

“From the moment Ling Xinlu was born, I’ve always been an uncle compared to you.”

Yuri stated this matter-of-factly as he replaced the compress over Ling Xinlu’s eyes. The world faded to darkness again. The familiar warmth and comfort now felt strangely unsettling, leaving him vaguely agitated.

“Someday, when Ling Xinlu grows old, occasionally talk about me, won’t you?”

Yuri murmured this with a faint smile, as if making a passing joke. Perhaps it was just an offhand remark, for he immediately changed the subject: “Is it too hot?” Had Ling Xinlu brought this up days later, Yuri might have been surprised: ‘I said that?’ as meaningless to him as idle chatter.

—”Someday, when Ling Xinlu grows old…….”

By that time, he might no longer be in this world.

—”…….occasionally talk about me, won’t you?”

When someone mentions another person—no matter the circumstances—it’s always because they miss them and wish to see them again.

“…….”

Ling Xinlu bit his lip hard.

His heart turned cold.

The surging emotions in his chest suddenly froze solid. How to describe this feeling? It was like——

“There’s no set order for who leaves first.”

“Who knows who’ll die first?” – The words burst out more irritably than even he expected. Yuri’s fingers massaging his eyelids paused momentarily before calmly responding.

“But if possible, let’s follow the natural order. That’s only proper.”

“Proper my foot. Just make sure you talk plenty about me in the future too.”

Suddenly, Ling Xinlu felt intense disgust toward his own age. The long life stretching before him – at least a decade longer than Yuri’s – now filled him with restless unease. Seeing Ling Xinlu’s obvious displeasure, Yuri looked momentarily surprised, unable to comprehend why his companion, perfectly fine moments ago, had suddenly become so irritable.

“…….Is it too hot?”

“Not hot.”

“Does it hurt? Am I pressing too hard?”

“No pain. Your pressure is just right.”

Ling Xinlu answered in a frosty tone, as if declaring he might die from heat and pain. Yuri looked at him with slight bewilderment but said nothing more. It seemed Yuri thought he’d inadvertently touched upon some painful memory of Ling Xinlu’s that he himself wasn’t aware of.

Ling Xinlu, still quietly keeping his eyes closed under Yuri’s hands, suddenly asked:

“Does Mr. Gable prefer younger people?”

“Me?”

A rather silly question. But true to Yuri’s nature, no matter how peculiar the question, he would always consider it seriously before answering. After a few seconds came an earnest reply:

“I’ve never thought about it, but currently speaking, that statement wouldn’t be wrong.”

Yuri added: “But I don’t think I particularly like ‘younger people’ as a general category.”

Hearing Yuri’s answer somewhat eased the discomfort in Ling Xinlu’s heart. However, his mood still wasn’t particularly good. He felt restless, unsettled, even nauseous.

“…….I prefer someone who can stay by my side long-term.”

The words spilled from Ling Xinlu’s lips unconsciously—as if he were murmuring in a dream, utterly without intent. Only after a long pause did Yuri respond: “Is that so?” Then he fell silent again for an extended moment.

Perhaps Yuri was thinking of someone. Someone he hoped would stay by Ling Xinlu’s side long-term, but ultimately couldn’t. And then, Ling Xinlu suddenly realized exactly who Yuri was thinking about.

No.

At least not right now, Ling Xinlu wasn’t thinking about that person.

In fact, he even felt that Yuri probably thought about that man more often than he did himself.

Ling Xinlu opened his mouth to say it wasn’t like that, then closed it again.

If not that, then what else could he possibly say?

“…….”

Yuri gently stroked Ling Xinlu, who had fallen silent again. The hand massaging the compress over his eyes occasionally brushed through his hair as well. Or more accurately, it wasn’t quite stroking, just fingers lightly toying with a few strands.

The sensation wasn’t unpleasant. Those soft, almost ticklish touches usually felt comforting.

But now, even that sensation left him restless. He wanted to seize the hand that kept touching then leaving his hair.

“I prefer someone who can stay by my side long-term.”

Ling Xinlu muttered again. The words sounded more like a soliloquy than something meant for Yuri.

In the past, when trying to relinquish someone who already belonged to another, he had buried his insecurities deep within. Yet now, that same restless feeling was silently resurfacing from his subconscious. Ling Xinlu drew a deep breath, attempting to suppress the chaotic emotions stirring his rationality. He filled his lungs completely, striving to quell the unease rising in his chest.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he exhaled. His erratic heartbeat seemed to calm as well.

“Are you alright?”

A low voice resonated from behind the eye compress. The tone was even but carried a hint of concern. Though Ling Xinlu hadn’t shown much, Yuri seemed to have noticed his fleeting distress.

The caring voice came from right beside him. From the person sitting close enough to touch.

Gradually, Ling Xinlu’s mind settled. He became aware of Yuri’s thighs beneath his head, the hand covering his eyes. Yuri was here.

Ling Xinlu exhaled softly. “I’m fine.” – He murmured. Yuri quietly observed him for a moment before apparently reassured, resumed moving his hand. Feeling each gentle, warm movement with perfect clarity, Ling Xinlu remained silent before finally whispering like a sigh:

“Uhm, I prefer someone who can stay by my side long-term……. If I ever liked someone who couldn’t, I wouldn’t let them leave.”

**************

*Mahjong is a tile-based game that originated in China. It is typically played by four players and involves strategy, skill, and a bit of luck. The game uses a set of 144 tiles, which are divided into suits (bamboo, characters, and circles), honor tiles (winds and dragons), and bonus tiles (flowers and seasons).