Chapter One

As Xu Er stepped out of the company building, his phone showed it was 2:34 a.m. Beijing time.

He wasn’t sleepy—just exhausted.

He looked up at the sky, thick with light pollution, and as expected, there was not a single star in sight. Only a hazy half-moon hung alone in the sky.

He wanted to watch the sunrise.

This idea came to him suddenly, with his fifth step out of the building.

So why not?

Yes, right now.

With his sixth step, he mapped out a route. The nearest mountain with a good view of the sunrise was 150 kilometers from City A. He had the car rental agency’s number, and it was Sunday—his day off.

On his seventh step, he opened his phone and scrolled through his contacts.

He paused briefly on Colin’s number, remembering that Colin had just moved in with his girlfriend two weeks ago.

Scrolling farther down, he saw Chen Nan’s name, but didn’t dial; Chen Nan was at his mother’s house this week.

Xu Er tapped his phone absently. He’d go alone, then.

He’d never done it before, but there was no reason not to. In fact, it seemed easier this way—he barely hesitated before calling the car rental place. Half an hour later, he had the keys, and ten minutes after that, he was on the highway.

The upside of several nights spent working through drafts was that, even though it was nearly three in the morning, he didn’t feel the least bit tired.

More than two hours later, Xu Er parked at the summit of Qitian Mountain.

He glanced around. A few other cars sat scattered in the lot—this wasn’t a tourist spot, there wasn’t much to do here. Xu Er figured these people were here for the sunrise too.

Everything unfolded as he expected. In the clean, unpolluted mountain air, he captured the orange ball of sun at 6:13 a.m. sharp.

The moment the beautiful sunrise was frozen on his phone screen, he heard voices not far away.

“Are you satisfied now?”

“I’m exhausted. What’s the difference between this sun and any other sun? Why come all this way?”

“What’s the difference? Tell me, what’s the difference?”

“Can’t you see it from your place?”

After these four exchanges, Xu Er heard another male voice.

“No, I can’t.”

Just then, Xu Er locked his phone, and for a fleeting moment, his own smile reflected back at him from the black screen.

He didn’t know why, but he found it funny.

Yes, you really can’t.

Xu Er turned toward the voices, but all he saw were two figures walking away, one behind the other.

The one in front wore a white T-shirt and beach shorts, hair messy. Xu Er’s gaze lingered on him for half a second, then shifted to the one behind.

The man behind was dressed all in black—black T-shirt, black pants, black baseball cap. Tall, long-legged.

Naturally, Xu Er’s mind assigned that pleasant “No, I can’t” to the man in black, and, given his handsome silhouette, gave him a vague, attractive face as well.

Yes, that was settled—good-looking guys should have good voices.

But Xu Er didn’t get to observe for long. The guy in front suddenly turned around, and Xu Er quickly looked away.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the man lay a hand on the man in black’s shoulder. Whatever they said next, Xu Er couldn’t hear.

The drive back was even quicker. He returned the car, went home, showered, and fell asleep instantly.

At noon, the phone woke him.

For no particular reason—Chen Nan wanted him to go on a blind date with him.

“I honestly don’t know where my mom finds all these friends. Why do I have to go on a blind date every time I go home?”

Over an hour later, at the café, Xu Er arrived to hear Chen Nan grumbling.

The weather had turned; rain was falling outside. Xu Er was a bit late—the girl had already left.

Xu Er grunted in response and said, “A latte.”

Chen Nan replied, “I ordered it for you already.”

Xu Er asked, “How did it go?”

“You mean the date?” Chen Nan gave a wry laugh. “No chance.”

After that, Chen Nan asked, “What’s with your social media? You went to watch the sunrise this morning and didn’t take me? Didn’t invite Colin either? You went by yourself?”

“Yeah,” Xu Er yawned. “Colin’s probably busy, and you were at home.”

Chen Nan pushed a glass of water toward him. “You could’ve called me. If you had, I wouldn’t have had to go on this date.”

Xu Er nodded. “Next time, for sure.”

Chen Nan frowned. “Is something bothering you?”

Xu Er replied, “What could possibly bother me?”

“True,” Chen Nan laughed. “Your worries are nothing but drafts, clients, and more drafts.”

Xu Er picked up the water, then set it down again. “Now that you mention it, I suddenly do have something on my mind.”

“Seriously?” Chen Nan raised his chin. “Go ahead, let me counsel you.”

Xu Er said, “Two things.”

Chen Nan prepared himself to listen closely.

Xu Er said, “My left ventricle and my right ventricle.”

Chen Nan was speechless.

After a pause, he said, “Your sudden sense of humor is really... well, really...”

At a loss for words, Chen Nan just gave a couple of awkward laughs and picked up his coffee.

Clearly, Xu Er had no real worries. Chen Nan knew him well—sunrises or whatever, it was always on a whim. If Xu Er wanted to do something, he’d just go and do it.

It wasn’t that he loved sunrises or anything. He just liked to act on sudden impulses.

Like last month, when he suddenly craved a mango crepe in the middle of the night; or on the first day of summer, when he decided to watch fireworks; or how he went out in the rain on the Dragon Boat Festival; or skipped stones on a nameless morning.

Thankfully, Xu Er never troubled anyone. He’d always make all the arrangements himself, and only then call his friends—“Want to come?”

A bit crazy, yes, but also utterly lovable.

In the monotony of working life, this kind of impulse, and the ability to act on it, was something anyone would envy.

“So, what now?” Xu Er asked as the lattes arrived.

Chen Nan thought for a moment. “Want to see a movie? Or do you want to go home and catch up on sleep? Have you eaten?”

Xu Er didn’t answer—he didn’t say yes to a movie, or to sleep or food. Instead, he hesitated, falling silent, his gaze locked on a spot to his left.

Following his line of sight, Chen Nan looked over. “Who are you looking at?”

Xu Er paused, then said, “Song Ruichi.”

“Song Ruichi?” Chen Nan looked again. “Your cousin’s here?”

Xu Er shook his head. “Not my cousin.”

“Then who? The real Song Ruichi?” Chen Nan asked.

Xu Er hesitated again. “I think so.”

Chen Nan was surprised. “Seriously?”

Here’s the backstory: Xu Er’s cousin, Xu Chen, uses the online handle “Ze County Song Ruichi.”

Whenever anyone saw that username, they’d inevitably ask, who’s Song Ruichi?

Xu Chen would promptly send over several photos of Song Ruichi and ask, “Handsome, right?”

His friends would always reply, “Handsome.”

Then Xu Chen would say, “See? Just like me.”

Most of the time, Xu Chen was indeed good-looking.

But after seeing Song Ruichi’s photos, it was hard not to respond, “Get lost, he’s way better looking than you.”

According to Xu Chen, Song Ruichi was a minor celebrity in certain circles—a woodcarver, an artist, with a studio, competitions, awards, and so on.

No one ever asked what “circles” meant—probably just the artist community.

Chen Nan kept searching with his eyes, about to ask where, when he saw him.

Near a potted plant by the window, on the inside seat, was a curly-haired man.

Strictly speaking, Xu Er and Chen Nan had only seen photos of Song Ruichi; it was almost impossible to be certain that, on a random afternoon in a random café, the man they spotted was really him.

But when they met each other’s eyes, both saw the same realization: it really might be Song Ruichi.

Looks were one thing—the man had an aura that was immediately striking, along with an artistic vibe.

Xu Er’s cousin had once tried perming his hair like that, but changed it back after two days. That style wasn’t for just anyone.

“What do you think?” Chen Nan asked first.

“What do you mean?” Xu Er replied.

Chen Nan said, “Go ask for his autograph or something, give it to your cousin—he’d lose his mind.”

Xu Er pondered for half a second. “Good idea.”

And with that, he was off.

Xu Er took a sip of coffee, stood up.

Xu Er was usually socially anxious; Chen Nan hadn’t expected him to move so suddenly.

Of course, Xu Er himself didn’t know why he was doing this, nor did he question it. He just thought, if he could get Song Ruichi’s autograph for his cousin, it would be incredibly cool.

Before Chen Nan could react, Xu Er was already heading over.

Chen Nan hurried after him. They circled around the low partition and were there in a few steps.

To be honest, it was a little awkward, this sudden approach.

Xu Er felt it too. As he stopped, he was met with four questioning eyes, so he put on a smile.

Well, not four—just two.

The man sitting inside, possibly Song Ruichi, didn’t look up, absorbed in his tablet, as if he hadn’t noticed a thing.

That helped—half the awkwardness was avoided.

With Chen Nan behind him, Xu Er felt braver. Over the years, there hadn’t been a single situation that Chen Nan couldn’t handle.

But this time, Chen Nan didn’t move.

Xu Er, unsure what to do, just kept smiling.

“Hello there.”

In the end, it was the other man—one who’d made eye contact with Xu Er—who spoke first, smiling warmly and tilting his head. “Haven’t we met somewhere before?”

Xu Er was momentarily confused, surprised. “Have we?”

At that, the man sitting inside finally moved.

At that moment, Xu Er was certain—it was Song Ruichi.

He could see him more clearly now—more handsome than in the photos.

Song Ruichi’s movement was brief; he lifted his chin and his eyes just enough to meet Xu Er’s gaze.

Then, perhaps not even a second later, he lowered his eyes again.

But soon enough, he looked up once more.

This time, their eyes met fully—Song Ruichi’s entire face now turned toward him.

And right then, Xu Er’s mind finally nagged him: You came to get an autograph, but where’s your paper? Your pen?

“You look familiar,” the man beside Song Ruichi continued, “Handsome guy, I—”

He was cut off as Song Ruichi placed a hand on his shoulder.

“What is it?” Song Ruichi asked Xu Er.

Xu Er hesitated. The voice sounded familiar.

He swallowed involuntarily and, catching sight of something out of the corner of his eye, blurted out, “What are you drinking?”

At that, all eyes fell on the barely touched cup of coffee on the table.

“A latte,” Song Ruichi replied.

“Oh,” Xu Er said.