“I should’ve guessed you liked fireworks. If I’d realized sooner, I would’ve asked you out earlier…”
Chu Xingxiao said, visibly frustrated with himself.
Chi Zhan was about to respond when a faint thread of inspiration flickered through his mind.
“…How do you know I like fireworks?”
He had never mentioned that to anyone—not even in the data stored by X.
The only person who should know that… was Zhou Yanxing.
***
Chu Xingxiao’s body tensed slightly.
“I… just guessed. If you didn’t like them, you wouldn’t have come out in the middle of the night to watch, right?”
Quick on his feet, Chu Xingxiao recovered smoothly with a plausible excuse.
Chi Zhan glanced at him, just about to say something, when the sharp, rhythmic bursts of fireworks exploding in the sky drowned out their voices. He leaned closer and said in his ear, “Stand still. Zhou Yanxing’s still here, you know.”
Chi Zhan poked him. Chu Xingxiao leaned in, so Chi Zhan pushed his face away. Undeterred, Chu Xingxiao brought his face close again. Chi Zhan pushed him away—again, he leaned in. It was a cycle the man seemed to thoroughly enjoy.
“……”
Under Chi Zhan’s death glare, Chu Xingxiao finally released him. Chi Zhan leaned back against the railing as fireworks bloomed one after another in the sky, vivid and dazzling. They reminded him of the fireworks he’d watched that night—with Zhou Yanxing.
Though the time and place were different…
So was the feeling.
Neither Zhou Yanxing nor Qi Song was around. Who knew where they’d gone? It wasn’t until the show was nearly over that Zhou Yanxing finally returned. When he saw Chu Xingxiao standing beside Chi Zhan, he didn’t comment at all.
Boom—
A burst of color exploded in the night sky, vibrant and resplendent. Chi Zhan felt a sudden impulse, took out his phone, and began recording the fireworks.
He rarely took photos, and by the time he was done, his fingers were stiff from the cold. He opened the game and sent the video to Song Guang.
Song Guang was still offline. Chi Zhan didn’t wait for a reply and put his phone away.
As the final fireworks burst faded, the surrounding crowd erupted in cheers. The atmosphere was infectious, and even Chi Zhan felt his spirits lift.
When the last firework fell and the sky returned to darkness, conversations gradually resumed. Chi Zhan turned around and saw Qi Song standing behind him, eyes seemingly fixed on him. But when he looked more closely, he realized Qi Song was just gazing at the sky.
Chi Zhan hesitated.
He couldn’t help his curiosity… Who exactly was Qi Song’s boyfriend?
But when he looked at him, he couldn’t bring himself to ask.
And with so many people still around, now wasn’t the right time anyway.
With the fireworks show concluded, the Christmas event officially came to an end. Everyone would be heading back tomorrow, and fatigue was setting in. After exchanging goodnights, the group began to disperse.
“Ah-Zhan, can you stay for a bit?” Cen Chi asked.
Since Cen Chi was the one who had invited him in the first place, Chi Zhan nodded and motioned for Chu Xingxiao to head back without him.
Chu Xingxiao, however, was still waiting for his Christmas gift. When Chi Zhan didn’t seem inclined to hand one over, he pouted and mumbled, “Then I’ll head back, ge.”
Chi Zhan gave him a once-over, then suddenly asked, “Are you staying in a room with someone?”
“No. I’m alone.”
“Don’t sleep yet. I’ll come by later. There’s something I want to ask you.”
Chu Xingxiao didn’t catch the second part at all. All he heard was “I’ll come by later,” and his eyes lit up instantly.
“I’ll be waiting,” he said eagerly.
With everyone else gone, only Chi Zhan, Zhou Yanxing, Cen Chi, and Qi Song remained. Cen Chi glanced around.
“Does everyone still have business here?”
There was no way Zhou Yanxing would let Cen Chi get a moment alone with Chi Zhan. At the question, he said coolly, “Just enjoying the view. Problem?”
Cen Chi chuckled helplessly, but Zhou Yanxing didn’t linger long. A phone call pulled him away soon after.
“Captain Qi, time to head back!” Chen Che called. “We’ve got early training tomorrow!”
Wen An chimed in, “Even if the world ends, he’ll be up before you. Stop worrying.”
With that, he dragged Chen Che away.
“You have training tomorrow?” Chi Zhan looked apologetic. “I didn’t know… If I had, I wouldn’t have asked you out. Did I mess up your rest?”
In the pitch-black night, Qi Song’s eyes were serene, his gaze deep as still water. He shook his head.
“Not at all.” He said softly, “Tonight’s fireworks were beautiful. See you next week. Good night.”
Was he really just here to say goodnight?
Chi Zhan had the sense that Qi Song wanted to say more—but with others still present, he held back.
Chi Zhan smiled faintly.
“Good night.”
Qi Song turned to leave. Even in a down jacket, he stood tall and elegant, his long legs giving him a model’s grace. At first, Chi Zhan had assumed he was cold and distant by nature. But the more they interacted, the more he realized—beneath the icy surface was warmth and gentleness.
Inside the room, Chen Che hadn’t even taken off his coat. He was busy editing pictures and uploading them to his Moments feed, his fingers flying across the screen. When Qi Song returned, he blinked.
“Captain, you’re back already?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I thought you’d hang around a bit longer with Secretary Chi… Guess I was wrong. Figured you weren’t coming back at all tonight.”
Such a romantic night, and they were a couple. Shouldn’t they have been… lighting fireworks of their own?
Chen Che tried to read Qi Song’s expression—but this was the man even psychologists couldn’t analyze. His face betrayed nothing, always composed and serene. Even if enemies stormed their base, teammates were slamming keyboards, commentators shouting into their mics—Qi Song would be the one person in the room who remained cool and clear-headed.
Sometimes Chen Che even suspected that Qi Song didn’t have emotions at all. Maybe if you opened him up, you’d find he was a robot.
But that theory had been thoroughly debunked the moment he saw Qi Song with Chi Zhan.
Turns out, it wasn’t that he lacked emotions—he just only showed them to people he cared about.
