Two years later, the old friends who had left one after another saw the mottled walls of the old house again.

Two years ago on that New Year's Eve, it was the last time they gathered together. From that day on, it had been witnessing farewells.

Zhou Siming hadn't paid back the money he owed Han Xiaogong yet, but he looked a bit different from before. The resentment and bitterness between his brows had lessened, and although he still wasn't likable, he indeed looked much more peaceful.

Qin Fang had seen him once at school last year. They had met face to face then, neither saying a word. Zhou Siming had nodded at Qin Fang, which counted as a greeting.

Han Xiaogong's hair had grown quite a bit compared to last winter, not back to its original length, but finally no longer at an awkward in-between length. He was always like that - no matter what he experienced or what was on his mind, you could never tell from his face.

Xing Yan--

Xing Yan had changed the most.

The first time Qin Fang saw Xing Yan was at the funeral home. In order to wait for them, Si Tu had stayed in the ice coffin at the funeral home for a day. That room was very cold, with a bone-chilling coldness.

Xing Yan was the last to return, as he lived the farthest away. At that time, Qin Fang was sitting in a chair with his head down, elbows resting on his legs. He had barely slept the night before and his head ached, making him feel faint.

He heard someone come in and stop in front of the ice coffin. There was incense and a portrait there.

He didn't look up. He had heard this kind of sound too many times. Every time someone went out and came back in, they would stand there for a while, standing for a long time, standing there in a daze, their thoughts drained.

Si Tu was still smiling in the photo, with fine lines at the corners of his eyes from smiling too much, the skin having memory.

Qin Fang buried his head between his hands, propping up his heavy head with his hands, feeling like there was a hammer occasionally chiseling in his brain, his nerves taut and occasionally twitching with pain.

In a daze, footsteps stopped in front of him. Qin Fang didn't look up, his consciousness not very clear at that time. It wasn't until clothes were draped over him that Qin Fang slowly raised his head to take a look--

They looked at each other through the air, one with blurry vision squinting as he looked up, the other with downcast eyes and a deep gaze.

Later, Xing Yan squatted down and asked him softly, "What's wrong with you?"

It was only at this point that Qin Fang became fully awake, his mind having been in a haze just now. He immediately sat up straight, the clothes sliding off him. Qin Fang caught them with his hand, cleared his throat and said, "You're back?"

"Mm." Xing Yan was still squatting in front of him, looking at Qin Fang's face, and asked, "Not feeling well?"

"I'm okay." Qin Fang licked his dry lips and patted the spot next to him. "Sit."

Xing Yan had just taken off his coat and given it to him, only wearing a thin T-shirt. Qin Fang handed the clothes to him and said, "Put it on, I'm not cold."

"Keep it on." Xing Yan's voice was very low. "You look terrible."

They hadn't seen each other for almost two years, but now was not the time for pleasantries.

Xing Yan had shaved his head, back to a crew cut. He was still thin, his features still deep. But his temperament had changed, no longer the aloof teenage look that felt very distant at a glance.

He looked much more mature -- he had grown up.

Qin Fang didn't know if he himself had changed compared to two years ago, or how much. One could never see oneself clearly.

The next morning was the encoffining*, and they didn't leave that night.

*T/N: Placing him in the coffin

They went out to hastily eat a meal, then continued to come back and sit. Xing Yan wanted Qin Fang to go back and rest, but Qin Fang refused.

The two of them didn't say more than a few words. It wasn't an occasion for chatting, nor were they in the mood. Xing Yan went out to buy medicine. He didn't know what was wrong with Qin Fang, so he bought cold medicine, fever reducers, and anti-inflammatory drugs. He came back and handed them to Qin Fang along with water, telling him to take the appropriate ones.

Qin Fang took the medicine. He was still wearing Xing Yan's coat. Although they didn't talk much, they weren't very estranged either. There was no need for politeness or false courtesy, no need at all.

This was their last night to be with Si Tu. Si Tu didn't want to say goodbye and hated sentimentality. So no one cried. Zhou Siming's eyes were red as he sat silently to the side, staring at the portrait.

They were all silent. They hadn't seen each other for a long time, but the tacit understanding and familiarity engraved in their bones and blood - greetings were unnecessary, pleasantries were unnecessary, as if they had never been apart.

Si Tu had long prepared a grave for himself. Placing him properly there was their last journey with him.

"Comfortable now? No more coughing." Han Xiaogong stood in front of his tombstone, looking at the photo on it, and spoke to him. "You're really a joke. My buddy couldn't make it through a cold. Now that you're gone, I can't even say it. Too weak."

Han Xiaogong had been standing for a whole morning and was a bit tired. He simply sat down on the ground now. Qin Fang also sat down with him. Later, Xing Yan and Zhou Siming also sat down. It was a rather narrow space, but several people sat down, even Gong Qi.

"The two of us were together longer than them. I was the last to leave." Han Xiaogong laughed lightly. "If I had known in advance that you were so weak, I would have left two years later. But I guess you actually wanted it this way. We won't see each other again, so let's not say goodbye either, right buddy?"

Zhou Siming cursed softly behind him.

Si Tu had guessed right. They all hated him, at least Zhou Siming's hatred was written all over his face. He hated that Si Tu had left, hated that he didn't say it in advance. Si Tu was too free and easy. He wanted those left behind to all be free and easy too.

Goodbyes were too ceremonial. Watching death come after saying goodbye, this scene would be remembered by the living for a lifetime. So Si Tu didn't give everyone a chance to say goodbye, except for Gong Qi. He had protected a girl's feelings to the best of his ability.

They were not lovers parting in life and death. These past few years had just been a plain companionship. At most, he was just an ex-boyfriend to her. He had fulfilled Gong Qi's wish to accompany him, and Gong Qi had fulfilled his reluctance.

"He gave all the money to me. It's with me. I plan to go out and see the kids every year, do some charity on his behalf." Gong Qi's voice had been hoarse these past few days. She spoke softly now, not crying. "He said none of you would want it. Some don't need it, some have pride higher than the sky."

"He said to leave the house to you guys. As long as it's not demolished, it will always be there. If it gets demolished in the future, just split it. If you want to keep it, keep it. If not, donate it."

"He didn't say anything else. He doesn't like sentimentality."

He really didn't like sentimentality, didn't like seeing people cry.

They sat with him in front of the tombstone for the entire afternoon. Si Tu had requested to keep everything simple beforehand, forgoing any additional customs or ceremonies afterwards, saying not to make it feel so ritualistic, just treat it as if he went on a long trip.

When they returned to the old house from the cemetery, everything here remained unchanged. The flowers in the courtyard were blooming beautifully, the ivy growing lush and verdant along the courtyard walls beside the flower beds, vitality everywhere.

Zhou Siming stood at the courtyard entrance, looking around here and there, then suddenly lowered his head, turned and went out, returning after quite a while.

Gong Qi didn't come, leaving only the four of them here.

Qin Fang didn't even change clothes, going straight to sleep upon returning, remembering to take his medicine before bed. He fell into a deep slumber almost as soon as he hit the bed, still wrapped in Xing Yan's coat, breathing heavily and coarsely.

This sleep was too deep, not even a single dream.

When he woke again, he was dazed for a while, the sky already pitch-black, looking at the room before him by the light coming through the window, unable to distinguish if it was reality or a dream. He lay there with eyes open for a long time before fully waking, recalling the dreamlike events of the past few days.

He had just lost a friend. He came to this small building again.

And... Xing Yan had returned.

Qin Fang fumbled for his phone to check the time, 3:30. He sat up, stifling a cough.

Someone walked in from the doorway, seeing him sitting there with some surprise, pausing their movement, then asking: "You're awake?"

Qin Fang grunted in affirmation and asked: "Where did you go so late?"

"I went to wash my face," Xing Yan said.

Qin Fang glanced at the other bed, the covers still untouched.

"Still have a fever?" Xing Yan asked him.

Qin Fang felt his forehead and said, "No more fever."

He asked Xing Yan, "How did you know I had a fever?"

"I could tell," Xing Yan lifted the covers on his bed and sat down, asking Qin Fang, "Hungry? Want to eat something?"

Qin Fang shook his head, clearing his throat. "Not hungry."

They shared a room in the darkness, the darkness able to ease the stiffness and awkwardness, but this room wasn't dark enough to obscure things. The moonlight was very bright.

The two sat on their respective beds, sometimes looking at each other, sometimes looking elsewhere at the walls.

Later, Qin Fang got out of bed to go to the bathroom. Xing Yan said, "Don't shower... You sweated quite a bit."

Qin Fang paused, then nodded. "I'm just... going to the bathroom."

Xing Yan cleared his throat. "Mm."

On the sink was a new, unopened towel and toothbrush, likely put there by Xing Yan. Qin Fang opened and used them, the face wash was Si Tu's. After washing up, he felt much more comfortable, his mind also much more alert.

Actually, he really wanted to take a shower. If not for the earlier conversation with Xing Yan, he probably would have showered now.

He hadn't changed clothes for the past few days and had sweated a lot. He hadn't felt it before but was now starting to feel uncomfortable. Qin Fang hesitated for a moment, but in the end still turned on the water, testing the temperature.

Someone knocked on the bathroom door. Qin Fang turned off the water and opened the door. Xing Yan was at the doorway.

"I... am about to stink," Qin Fang said. "I should still shower."

Xing Yan silently helped him turn on the light. The old house had no heating or bathroom heater. Xing Yan put the clothes he was holding on the rack, saying softly, "Clothes are here for you to change into after showering. The water... turn it a bit hotter."

He then left, pulling the door closed behind him.

The stack of clothes was all new, with a new pair of underwear in the middle.

Water pounded down from overhead, steam wafting, the dim light in the bathroom making one's emotions seem to soak in the hot water too. Warm and swelling, but also scalding to the point of stinging.

Qin Fang leaned back against the wall, the ceramic tiles cool and slippery against his body. He tilted his head back slightly, the back of his head against the wall.

When Xing Yan had silently turned to leave earlier, Qin Fang noticed he seemed to have grown taller again. His pursed lips and taut jaw, viewed from the back side, both familiar and unfamiliar.

When he returned to the bedroom after showering, Xing Yan was still sitting on the bed in the same posture as before.

Qin Fang asked him, "Why aren't you asleep?"

"Not sleepy," Xing Yan told him. "You sleep."

"Mm." Qin Fang got back into bed and lay down. His sheets and blanket had been changed. If not for the different feel, Qin Fang may not have noticed at all. He hadn't paid attention to what the bedding looked like before sleeping.

Actually, Qin Fang was still tired and a bit sleepy, but couldn't fall back asleep. He lay there quietly. Xing Yan also lay down with his clothes on.

For a long time, there was no sound in the room, not even the sound of breathing could be heard.

Only Qin Fang occasionally turned over. One time after he turned, he couldn't help coughing a couple times, the sound very low, suppressing the cough in his throat with mouth closed.

"Can't sleep?" Xing Yan asked.

Qin Fang said, "Mm."

Xing Yan sat up. "Uncomfortable?"

Qin Fang blinked in the darkness. "No."

Xing Yan got out of bed and put on his shoes, walking out, saying softly, "You sleep."