“I’ve been looking for a long time”—did that mean…
“I don’t know why, but I’ve always known that someone would come into my life and change everything. That person was destined to be special,” Cen Chi said with another soft smile. “Strange, isn’t it? Even before I knew anything, I was already certain. I’ve met so many people, but not one of them ever gave me this feeling. Only you, Chi Zhan.”
Chi Zhan was completely at a loss for words.
This was obviously a BUG!
It was supposed to be a shortcut—an easy route designed for the player to fast-track the romance. So why had that buff landed on him instead?
“You know why,” Cen Chi said.
Chi Zhan blurted out instinctively, “I don’t know.”
His fingers tightened reflexively—only to realize Cen Chi was still holding his hand. That sudden grip exposed just how tense he was. But Cen Chi didn’t comment on it.
“Would you watch the fireworks with me again?”
Along with the shock, Chi Zhan also felt a pang of sympathy for him.
A lifetime limited to just a few colors—how dull must that be? So many beautiful sights in the world, and to him, they were all just faded echoes of what they should be.
“Sure.”
The so-called “creator” who gave Cen Chi this setting never once considered the feelings of the characters in the game. They just wanted to script a romance, so they imposed this setup on him. Chi Zhan couldn’t help but feel a little angry on his behalf.
No wonder Cen Chi always seemed so attuned to him. All those inexplicable doubts suddenly made sense.
Chi Zhan had originally wanted to say, If you ever need me, I’ll always be here for you—but the words caught in his throat. They felt too ambiguous.
After all, if Cen Chi really needed physical touch, they couldn’t just go around holding hands and doing nothing else, right?
From a romantic perspective, this whole scene could easily be mistaken for a confession.
“……”
Maybe he should report this bug to the System.
Cen Chi held the sparkler.
“Can you grab the lighter for me? It’s in the pocket of my coat.”
Chi Zhan reached out with his free hand to feel around Cen Chi’s jacket, and suddenly realized how awkward their posture was.
Cen Chi could have just let go of his hand.
“I don’t want to,” Cen Chi said with a helpless smile, as if reading his mind. “There aren’t many chances where I can openly hold your hand like this. I don’t want to waste even a second.”
Chi Zhan tried to see it from his perspective—and found he could understand.
He took out the lighter, sparked the tip of the sparkler, and golden sparks bloomed once again.
It was beautiful.
As Chi Zhan admired it, he suddenly remembered the gift he hadn’t given Cen Chi yet. He pulled the box from his pocket with one hand and, using the glow from the sparkler, double-checked the label—
He couldn’t afford another mix-up.
But just as he looked toward Cen Chi, he noticed the other wasn’t watching the sparkler at all—he was looking at him, intently, with a solemn expression.
Chi Zhan froze, but Cen Chi casually turned his gaze away, as if it had just been a glance.
The sparkler slowly burned down, trailing flickers of warm orange light that blinked in and out before fading into darkness.
It was over.
“So pretty,” Chi Zhan said softly. “Doctor Cen, happy holidays.”
Cen Chi still hadn’t let go of his hand.
Maybe he just wanted to linger a little longer and enjoy the view?
Chi Zhan wasn’t used to holding hands with others. Cen Chi’s fingers were calloused—lightly brushing against his palm now and then, a barely-there sensation that might have been real or just his imagination.
Chi Zhan gave a subtle tug, signaling Cen Chi to let go. But instead, Cen Chi tightened his grip slightly, pulling him closer.
The distance between them shrank again.
“Cen… Doctor Cen?” Chi Zhan nervously crumpled the box in his hand. The mood had taken an odd turn. With the sky dimmed and the sparkler out, he couldn’t quite make out Cen Chi’s expression. Uneasy, he hastily thrust the small box toward him.
“A holiday gift. Thank you… for looking after me these past few days.”
Cen Chi lowered his gaze, took the box, but didn’t open it. Instead, he smiled—wryly, as if helpless.
“Thank you.”
“Can you let go now? It’s getting late. We should head back and rest.”
“What if I don’t want to?”
Chi Zhan hadn’t expected that response at all and found himself completely unprepared.
In the darkness, Cen Chi’s eyes traced the shape of his face—taking in every hint of surprise, every trace of tension.
“What… do you mean?” Chi Zhan asked, struggling to keep his composure.
“You haven’t called me that in a long time, Ah-Zhan. You keep calling me ‘Doctor Cen.’ Do you really want to keep me at arm’s length that badly?”
Even as a question, Cen Chi’s voice was calm, gentle, and utterly devoid of pressure. Yet it still made Chi Zhan’s nerves tighten.
“I just… I’m not used to it.”
That nickname was too intimate. The words hovered at the edge of his lips but wouldn’t come out. And besides, when there were others around, he couldn’t bring himself to say it at all.
But Cen Chi never hesitated. Every time, he called him Ah-Zhan with such ease.
Chi Zhan was still caught up in his thoughts when he suddenly turned his head and sneezed.
A cold gust of wind had swept through the night.
Cen Chi led him back inside, where it was warm, yet still hadn’t let go of his hand. The lights in the hall were still bright, and several people were scattered about—talking on phones, laughing, chatting—but no one seemed to notice them.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize earlier,” Cen Chi said, guiding him to the sofa near the fireplace. The warmth rushed in to meet them, accompanied by the soft crackle of burning logs and mellow romantic music. It was all effortlessly soothing.
“I got a little carried away just now,” Cen Chi admitted. “But there’s something I need to say. If I don’t… will you just keep pretending not to notice?”
“…What is it?” Chi Zhan asked, a little dazed.
But for some reason, an ominous feeling crept up his spine.
Chi Zhan’s instincts were rarely wrong. And when it came to bad things—they were never wrong.
