As summer waned and autumn's crisp breath swept through the city, the port city of Haiyang was bathed in the soft, fading light of dusk. Cars wove through the bustling streets, and the entire city seemed to move in a dreamlike, unhurried rhythm.

Jian Ming, in his Land Rover, was heading to a large warehouse-style supermarket. His mental checklist of household essentials was extensive, and he figured one trip should cover everything. Just as he pulled into the parking lot and began to maneuver into a space, his phone rang.

"Mingming, it's me," Jiang Luchuan’s pleasant voice chirped from the other end.

"Dad," Jian Ming replied, turning off the engine.

"What time is it over there? Have you had dinner yet?"

"Yeah, it’s past seven, and I’ve eaten. I’m just about to stock up on some groceries. How’s everything in England, smooth sailing?" Jian Ming chuckled awkwardly, rolling down the window and drumming his fingers on the sill. A pang of guilt hit him—he hadn’t thought to call his adoptive father all week.

"Smooth as can be! This conference has been quite fruitful. Your forensic psychology professor from Yale was here, and we had a chat. He spoke very highly of you, haha." Jiang Luchuan’s pride swelled in his voice. "Oh, by the way, Gu Tao called me today, asking about Lu Heng. He probably wasn't too familiar with you, so he didn't call directly. Sounds like he wants to talk to you about something. Why don't you go see him?"

"Gu Tao? Oh, Lu Heng's uncle?"

"Exactly. Try to stop by the Special Police Unit in the next day or two. After the handover, we were supposed to meet their superiors anyway; don’t want to seem impolite," Jiang Luchuan instructed. The background noise on his end grew louder, and he seemed to be speaking to others. Without waiting for Jian Ming's response, he quickly added, "I have to go now; I’ll call you back later. Remember to eat on time, even when you're busy. Your stomach isn't great, so take care of yourself."

"Okay, I know, Dad. You go on; I'll call you tomorrow." Jian Ming hung up, pondering for a few seconds before stepping out of the car and heading towards the elevator.

As he entered the elevator, a figure flashed past his vision—familiar, yet somehow… unfamiliar. Before he could get a good look, the elevator doors closed. He brushed it off, thinking he might have been mistaken, his mind preoccupied with something else. Since that afternoon, he’d wanted to call Lu Heng but hadn’t managed to dial. When had he become so indecisive, needing so much mental preparation for a simple phone call?

Stepping out of the elevator, he pulled his phone from his pocket, resolved to make the call. Just as he tapped Lu Heng's name in his contacts, his phone vibrated—the very name he intended to dial. What a coincidence.

A playful glint in his eye, he answered, "Hello?"

"Hello," a single syllable echoed from the other end.

"Lu Heng? Is something wrong?" Jian Ming wanted to ask, Are you okay, Lu Heng? Are you still having nightmares? What did that message you sent mean? Did something happen, Lu Heng? Yet, the words that tumbled out were the ones he least wanted to say.

"No… nothing. Just saw you liked my Moments post." Lu Heng actually wanted to say, Jian Ming, why haven’t you contacted me in days? What are you busy with? Where are you? Lu Heng… I want to see you. But those myriad thoughts condensed into an utterly idiotic excuse.

Several seconds of silence stretched between them.

"Where are you? Are you coming to XX Supermarket? Your fridge looked empty; do you need to buy some food?"

"Ah, you're there?"

"Yeah, my place is empty too; I need to buy a lot of stuff. Do you want to come?" Though Jian Ming phrased it as a question, he desperately hoped for an affirmative answer.

Before he finished speaking, Lu Heng eagerly replied, "Yes, I need to buy things too! Wait for me; I'll be there soon." Then, out of habit, he hung up. Jian Ming first furrowed his brow at the abrupt disconnect, then let out a soft laugh. Remembering their playful banter from dinner that night, he mused that Lu Heng was certainly straightforward, but he had too many flaws to pick at.

It took Lu Heng twenty-eight minutes to get from his home to the supermarket by taxi. Standing at the entrance of the massive store, he realized he hadn't asked Jian Ming where to meet. This was a huge warehouse-style supermarket with four entrances. He smacked his forehead in frustration, annoyed at himself for hanging up without confirming.

He pulled out his phone, about to call, when he saw a WeChat notification: "Entrance 2," from Jian Ming.

Jian Ming had actually been standing by the exit for a while, calmly observing Lu Heng’s entire process: getting out of the taxi, looking around anxiously, smacking his head, and finally pulling out his phone to call. The clumsy little police officer was truly adorable, and Jian Ming’s heart swelled with delight.

Finally, Lu Heng spotted the figure he’d been yearning to see for days.

Today, Jian Ming was unlike his usual self in formal attire. He wore a red and white striped athletic hoodie, its round collar accentuating his broad, straight collarbones. His pants were loose-fitting, cinched at the ankles, paired with simple yet elegant white sneakers. His hair, untouched by styling products, fell casually over his forehead and temples, exuding a relaxed, carefree charm. His entire being radiated a unique aura—a complex blend of tenderness and elegance, interspersed with an ethereal quality and a sharp edge, while his upturned, slender "peach blossom" eyes often held a keen, piercing gaze.

Lu Heng stood before him, staring for a good thirty seconds, until Jian Ming subtly cleared his throat.

"Shall we go in?"

"…Oh, right, let’s go." Lu Heng felt awkward, having stared like an infatuated fool, and instinctively quickened his pace.

The supermarket was brimming with goods, but they didn’t aimlessly wander, heading straight for the food section.

"Lu Heng, you should buy some milk and cereal too. Don’t skip breakfast; it’s bad for your stomach," Jian Ming said, placing double portions into the shopping cart.

"Okay."

"And eat less instant noodles. These dried noodles are much better. Add an egg when you cook them; it’s more nutritious."

"Okay."

"Your kitchen is too empty. Even if you don’t cook often, you should have at least two pots. We'll go to the kitchenware section later," Jian Ming continued, selecting items without looking back. Lu Heng simply watched him, trailing obediently behind.

"You decide. I’ll go with whatever you say,” Lu Heng said, utterly sincere.

Jian Ming suddenly stopped, turning to look at him meaningfully, a slight furrow in his brow.

"Oh, I was being too presumptuous. Pick out whatever you want; I’m just making suggestions." I really am treating myself like family, Jian Ming silently chided himself.

Just as he was about to turn back, Lu Heng grabbed the hem of his hoodie, pulling him closer. "I mean it. I’m willing to listen to you, about everything."

"..." What did that mean?

"Completely," Lu Heng mumbled, rubbing his nose, then tilted his head back, blinking his amber eyes, which left Jian Ming feeling dazed and disoriented.

After a moment, Jian Ming recovered from his momentary stupor. Hearing Lu Heng's repeated emphasis, a small wave of warmth spread through him. The man before him was expressing his trust in the only way he knew how, even if it was just a few words.

"Okay, then I’ll help you see what else you need to buy," Jian Ming said, patting Lu Heng’s forehead and smiling gently.

Lu Heng’s ears immediately flushed, and his heart pounded uncontrollably. He watched Jian Ming's retreating back as he continued to pick out items, wanting to rush forward and embrace him like a great roc spreading its wings. This strange feeling was only growing stronger.

He silently followed, keeping within two steps, observing Jian Ming's every move. Even a slight upturn of Jian Ming's lips made his face flush. In his twenty-plus years, he’d never known that just looking at someone could make his palms sweat and leave him so overcome with emotion.

As they stood at the checkout counter, their cart brimming with items, a voice from the depths of Jian Ming’s memory called out from behind him.

"Jian Ming!" It was a refined, dashing man.

"Leng Feng?!" How could it be him? Was that figure in the parking lot really him?