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Guan Shan watches the sky thunder from the train carriage. Rain swipes down the glass; the mountains of Jiangxi province blur past in uncertain streaks of green and brown, and fog hangs around the lower slopes like a skirt of cotton wool.

Guan Shan takes a sip of his beer, which has gone lukewarm now and still has half left. Jian Yi’s on his third by now, bobbing his head along to the music playing through his earphones, and Zhengxi’s drinking water soberly from a metal canteen while he flicks through a Physics book.

‘Ask for a cup of ice, would you?’ He Tian asks from the seat across the small train table. When Guan Shan doesn’t reply, He Tian knocks his foot against Guan Shan’s ankle. ‘Hey.’

‘Get it yourself.’

‘But I want you to do it for me.’

Guan Shan looks at him. ‘You want somethin’, so you can get it.’

He Tian drinks the dregs of his cup of baijiu and shakes it in Guan Shan’s face. ‘I’m out. Don’t you want to do something nice for me?’

‘It would be nice if I did it ‘cause I wanted to. But I don’t. So, yeah. No.’

He Tian pours himself another cup of baijiu from the bottle on the table. He takes a sip, unbothered by the lack of ice. He looks smug, like he’s won something. The toe of his shoe is an insistent pressure against Guan Shan’s ankle.

‘I thought this was a bonding weekend,’ says He Tian. ‘A time for reconnecting.’

Guan Shan looks down at their feet. ‘I think we’re connected pretty well.’

Jian Yi tugs out an earbud. ‘Did one of you say something?’

‘Guan Shan’s pissed about missing work,’ says He Tian.

‘I never said—’

‘Aw, Guan Shan!’ Jian Yi moans, pulling out both earbuds now. ‘You know the restaurant will be there when you get back, right? This is a trip of a lifetime!’

‘We gettin’ the train to Jiangxi,’ he says flatly. ‘It’s not particularly astounding.’

‘A lifetime!’

Guan Shan swears under his breath. He looks out the window, watches the landscape slip by him. He has the urge to get off on the next stop, just to prove that he can. He knows He Tian would follow him—the others, too. The thought thrills him, then fills him with a sense of guilt. He could ruin the start of the trip, just because.

Eventually, Jian Yi puts his earbuds back in and plays his music louder. Guan Shan can hear the tinny volume spilling out. Zhengxi hasn’t looked up from his book. More stations flit past them with names Guan Shan doesn’t remember; he thinks it must be dark by the time they eventually reach Gulingzhen and get a taxi to the resort, which He Tian will probably pay for.

He’s paid for the whole trip.

Guan Shan doesn’t know why—at least, he can’t understand it. The thought troubles him. They’re not school kids anymore. Zhengxi is on scholarship at the university and has a well-paid teaching role, and Guan Shan can afford to go on a weekend trip with friends with his job at Taro. He doesn’t need the charity; He Tian doesn’t need to earn their friendship by flashing cash.

He knows this by now, doesn’t he?

Guan Shan glances at He Tian.

He isn’t surprised to find that He Tian is watching him.

‘What?’ Guan Shan mutters.

‘You seem upset.’

Guan Shan says, ‘Are you gonna be drunk before we even get to the hotel?’

He Tian looks at the half-finished bottle of baijiu, then, incomparably, at Guan Shan’s half-finished beer. ‘Is that what’s bothering you?’ he asks.

‘No, I don’t care. I’m just sayin’.’

‘I’ll be fine,’ says He Tian. ‘This is light for me.’

‘Yeah, I know.’

He Tian frowns. He leans forward in the seat, arms disappearing under the table, and when Guan Shan looks down he sees that He Tian is reaching for his hands. Guan Shan glances at Jian Yi, who has his eyes shut and is drumming away on the table with his hands, and Zhengxi who is jotting down notes in a notebook with an illegible scrawl while he reads. They’re not watching. They don’t care. Guan Shan knows it shouldn’t matter even if they were watching, but it does.

Guan Shan takes He Tian’s hands, and the grip is firm. He Tian squeezes once, then twice. His skin is a little cool from drinking the iced baijiu, but it warms the longer his hands are held. Guan Shan lets out a breath.

He Tian’s smiling. ‘How is this for you?’

‘Shut up,’ Guan Shan mutters, threatening to pull away.

He Tian’s grip is firm, the bones of his fingers crushed slightly against Guan Shan’s knuckles into near-painfulness. This is the least Guan Shan could do, really. He can allow his hands to be held for a few minutes, even if the position is awkward, and Jian Yi and Zhengxi are sitting right next to them.

They have no qualms about being physical around each other, even though Zhengxi rarely initiates it. Even so, Guan Shan will prefer it when they’re separated by a closed door and it doesn’t feel like there’s a weight on his chest and an insistent, invisible set of eyes boring a hole into the back of his neck to pass judgment.

After a few minutes, Guan Shan pulls away, and He Tian lets him. The position was hurting his spine, and his hands tingle now where they sit in his lap. He Tian drinks his spirits, smiling slightly, his gaze set out the window, and Guan Shan sips at his beer, still lukewarm.

///

‘Ya, this is so nice! So expensive! Hey, come and look at the bath!’

He Tian chuckles. ‘It’s like he’s never been in a hotel before.’

It’s not said snidely, but they all know it’s spoken from experience. He Tian has done a lot, seen a lot, been to more places than any of them can dream of. To him, this place probably doesn’t mean that much.

Zhengxi makes a thoughtful sound as he steps inside the hotel room and takes stock of his surroundings. His expression doesn’t give much away; there’s a small lift to his eyebrows that says he’s impressed. In the en suite bathroom, Guan Shan can hear the metal squeak of a tap being turned. Jian Yi, running a bath.

‘I think he has,’ says Zhengxi quietly. ‘But we don’t know where he was for those couple of years. Maybe he was in a cell.’

He Tian and Guan Shan don’t say anything. It’s obvious that Jian Yi’s absence plays on Zhengxi’s mind more than anyone’s. There are questions unanswered, thoughts not said aloud. Guan Shan feels guilty sometimes for not thinking about it more, but he’s not sure how much it matters.

Jian Yi is back, an upturned plant returned to the soil. His roots are starting to spread again. Guan Shan gets the impression that Zhengxi was bothered by the ordeal more than even Jian Yi, and that he’s still adjusting to Jian Yi’s newly loud presence, who's only been back a few months by now.

‘Shall we look at our room?’ says He Tian, tugging lightly on Guan Shan’s arm.

They’re in the room directly across the hall. Their bags have already been brought up and left inside the small foyer. Guan Shan and He Tian take off their shoes there and step into slippers stitched with the resort insignia.

‘Wow,’ says Guan Shan.

‘Wait until morning,’ says He Tian, walking through the living area and to the end of the bed. Opposite, balcony doors open out onto a view of the hot springs, curling with lamp-lit mist in the darkness. ‘The sun will rise right on the water. If we time it right, I’ve heard it looks like the water’s on fire.’

Guan Shan lifts his eyebrows. Slowly, he goes to stand next to He Tian. The February air is cold outside, especially this high up in the mountains, so they leave the doors shut for now. He can’t see much in the darkness, but he can make out the small, steaming pools of thermal springs, water running over the edge of the cliffside and down towards the mountain valleys.

‘This must have cost a fuck ton,’ Guan Shan says.

‘It doesn’t matter. I wanted us to have a nice time.’

‘There’s only one bed.’

He Tian’s mouth twitches. ‘Yes, I know. The sofa pulls out, if you want.’

‘I’m not sleepin’ on a sofa.’

‘Neither am I.’

Guan Shan’s nose wrinkles. ‘Fine.’

He Tian looks back out to the springs. ‘Well, I’m glad that’s settled. I expected a lot more push and shove.’

‘Disappointed?’ Guan Shan asks. ‘I can argue more.’

‘No, no. I like it when you give in to me.’

Guan Shan scoffs. ‘That wasn’t me givin’ in. I was standin’ my ground.’

‘Of course.’

They’ve booked the hotel for three nights and four days, so they spend a few minutes unpacking their bags and putting them in the bottom of the mirrored wardrobe. He Tian flicks through vacant TV channels with his long body stretched out on the bed while Guan Shan puts his toothbrush in the bathroom.

He notices that He Tian’s is already there, taking up one slot in the toothbrush holder, and Guan Shan spends too long looking at the both of them positioned side by side. He looks at the claw foot tub against one side of the bathroom walls. It seems excessive at a hot springs. He can’t imagine who would even bother.

He Tian catches him standing there, frowning. He smirks at him through the reflection of the bathroom mirror.

‘You look concerned.’

Guan Shan shakes his head, turning. ‘Anything good on TV?’

‘The news. I caught the last five minutes of Big Fish and Begonia. It’ll be on again at midnight.’

‘I like that movie.’

He Tian snorts. ‘Come and test the bed.’

‘I reckon it’s like most beds.’

‘This is a special bed,’ says He Tian, coming forward. He comes to stand at Guan Shan’s back and places his hands on Guan Shan’s shoulders. Guan Shan, disgruntled, offers little resistance as he’s guided out the bathroom and towards the bed.

‘Go on, try it.’

Guan Shan looks at his feet, then at the bed. He Tian’s hands are still on his shoulders, and when he glances at them He Tian let go and took a step back.

After a moment, Guan Shan decides that there’s nothing else for it. He swings his arms once, bends his knees, and launches himself into the middle of the mattress. Distantly, he can hear He Tian laughing. It’s a bright, delighted sound, and Guan Shan enjoys it far more than the luxurious give of the mattress beneath his weight as he bounces, and the firm plumpness of the pillows. When eventually he stills and rolls onto his back, he realises that He Tian is climbing onto the bed beside him and he holds his breath. He Tian settles down, within reach, and smiles at the ceiling.

‘Like most beds,’ says He Tian, in a dry, derisory tone. ‘Ha.’

‘It is pretty comfortable.’

‘It’s more than that.’

Guan Shan wants to curl on his side, but instead he lies very still. ‘What makes you so sure?’

‘Well, it’s got you in it, for starters.’

Guan Shan does curl on his side this time, away from He Tian. With the bedside lamp on next to him, he can see his reflection in the glass balcony doors, his eyes staring back at him.

‘That why you were so keen on this weekend?’ he asks. ‘So we could share a bed?’

‘It’s part of it, sure,’ He Tian admits easily. ‘I also did want to go away for a few days. With you. With them. I thought it would be fun. Isn’t that why you came?’

‘I guess,’ Guan Shan admits.

There’s a long, unsteady silence. Guan Shan’s suddenly terrified that He Tian might try to touch him now, that he could put his hand back on Guan Shan’s shoulder and pull him around so they’re looking at each other. He rolls off the bed and onto his feet. He Tian looks at him curiously.

‘Are you hungry?’ asks Guan Shan.

‘I could eat.’ He Tian’s eyebrows lift suggestively. ‘Room service?’

‘The lady at the desk said the bar’s open ‘til midnight. We could eat there and have a few drinks.’

He Tian sits up. ‘Mo Guan Shan. Are you suggesting we socialise?’

Guan Shan pulls a face. ‘With each other.’

‘Of course,’ He Tian says, sounding pleased.

Guan Shan reaches for the phone on the bedside, dialing Jian Yi and Zhengxi’s room number. He could use his mobile but, like jumping onto a bed that has been made for him by some unknown person, there’s something oddly luxurious about using a hotel room phone that only requires three digits to dial. He feels that same weight on his chest that he did on the train, a quiet, urgent need to open the balcony doors or leave the bedroom. He’s grateful that the TV’s on.

‘What are you doing?’ He Tian asks.

‘Askin’ the other two. They might wanna meet us.’

‘You know, I think Zhengxi was quite tired,’ says He Tian, while Guan Shan lifts the receiver to his ear. ‘They’ll probably just want to sleep; I’ve booked the springs for early tomorrow morning.’

‘I’ll ask anyway.’

The phone rings.

He Tian stands. ‘Mo Guan Shan—’

Guan Shan shakes his head. I’m on the phone, he mouths, pointing.

The phone connects.

‘It’s Mo—’

‘You’ve reached the residences of Jian Yi and Zhan Zhengxi. Sorry we can’t get to the phone right now, but if you leave a message, we’ll get back to you.’

Guan Shan sighs. ‘D’you wanna come down to the bar with us?’

‘Wā! Seriously? See you down there in five?’

‘Yeah, sure.’

The phone goes dead, and the receiver clicks as Guan Shan puts it back into the cradle.

‘They’re meetin’ us down there,’ he says, lifting his eyes to He Tian’s face.

He Tian is wearing a strange expression, standing somewhat limply on the other side of the bed. For a moment Guan Shan thinks he might be about to say something, but in the end he just shrugs and pulls on his easy smile like an old jacket.

‘Alright,’ he says. ‘Good. I’ll freshen up.’

///

They go down to the bar, which is darkly lit and decorated tastefully with New Year decorations. A few red streamers, a lantern here and there, red napkins on the bar printed with messages of luck and fortune. Jian Yi and Zhengxi are already there, ensconced in one of the leather booths along the wall. They’re picking at a bowl of spiced cashews and peanuts, and Jian Yi is drinking some sort of cocktail. Zhengxi has his book resting on the table.

‘Are you going to read that all weekend?’ He Tian asks, sliding into the booth.

Guan Shan sits next to him. He likes this because it means he won’t have to look at him; he doesn’t because the booth is small enough that Guan Shan can’t move much without their shoulders touching, and he knows He Tian will battle to take hold of a hand or thigh for most of the evening.

‘It’s just prep work for next week,’ says Zhengxi, unselfconscious.

He Tian pops a few cashews into his mouth and grins. ‘A little light reading?’

‘For me? Yes.’

He Tian’s grin widens; he’s not offended. ‘All of you have some serious issues with letting go, you know that?’

Guan Shan grunts. He reaches for a napkin on the small weighted tray in the middle of the table, something to keep his hands busy. The message on the napkin reads, May a river of gold flow into your pocket.

He asks, ‘This where you tell us we’ve all become machines of the state?’

‘Did I say that?’

‘Felt implied,’ Guan Shan says tersely. ‘We’ve got jobs. We do shit we’re interested in. Nothin’ wrong with that.’

‘It’s better, really,’ Jian Yi points out, whirling the ice around in his cocktail with a metal stirrer. ‘You could be doing something you hate. Day after day after day. Going through the motions. Gross.’

‘Most people do live like that,’ says Guan Shan. ‘Not everyone can afford to do somethin’ they love.’

‘I am fortunate to be able to afford to get in a round of drinks,’ says He Tian, with a shooing motion in Guan Shan’s direction.

Guan Shan gets to his feet and lets He Tian out. ‘How’s that for self-reflection,’ Guan Shan remarks quietly, in the mood to be coy.

‘Oh, I’m a new man, baby,’ He Tian teases.

He goes to the bar, and Guan Shan sits back down with his cheeks feeling hot. He realises He Tian didn’t ask what he wanted, but he’ll probably get him something that he’ll like—an expensive beer, or a cocktail with a sour kick in the back of his throat.

Jian Yi and Zhengxi are looking at him.

‘What?’ asks Guan Shan.

‘Baby?’ Jian Yi echoes. ‘That’s a new one.’

‘He’s just fuckin’ about. You know what he’s like.’

‘You’re sharing a honeymoon suite, Mo Guan Shan—you should know what he’s like, too.’

Guan Shan pulls a face. ‘You’re sharin’, too.’

‘Yes, we are,’ says Zhengxi evenly. He leaves no room for misinterpretation. Their closeness is a fact which, with quiet pride, neither of them deny. Guan Shan wonders what that must feel like. Who is he inconveniencing by showing his feelings? Who he is defending? Himself doesn’t feel like a good enough answer; he knows it’s not.

‘He really likes you, Red.’

Guan Shan looks away from Jian Yi’s earnestness with a grimace.

He hopes the drinks won’t take long.

Zhengxi drums his fingers on his Physics book and says, ‘What kind of arrangement have the two of you got now, anyway?’

At the word ‘arrangement’, Guan Shan gets up and walks over to the bar. He Tian is talking to the barman about something, and the conversation is cut short when He Tian sees Guan Shan approaches.

‘Well, hello.’

‘Need a hand?’

‘No,’ says He Tian, ‘but I’m certainly not going to tell you that if it means you leave.’

Guan Shan nods. He says nothing when He Tian takes a step to the side, so they’re all of a sudden hip-to-hip. Guan Shan puts his hands in his pockets, as if to hold himself back from touching him further—or to stop He Tian touching him. He watches the barman’s deft movements as he readies their drinks. The man plucks a bottle of lychee syrup and cointreau from the back shelf and mashes something together in a granite pestle and mortar.

‘What did you order me?’ Guan Shan asks.

‘Something called a Lushan Lake,’ He Tian replies. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll like it.’

‘Confident.’

‘Very—I know what you like.’

Guan Shan doesn’t reply. He looks up at the TV above the bar, which is playing a local news channel, set to mute with subtitles on. Eventually their drinks are served. Guan Shan pulls his hands from his pockets and takes a sip of his before they walk back to the table; He Tian watches him put his lips to the rim of the glass and swallow.

He Tian’s eyebrows lift.

‘It’s good,’ says Guan Shan. It’s strong; the back of his throat burns. The sugar from the lychee syrup coats his teeth. He could give He Tian a kiss now in thanks, if he wanted. Maybe he could offer a smile that promises it will follow. He bites the inside of his cheek instead and offers He Tian a nod.

He Tian still looks smug as he takes Zhengxi’s and Jian Yi’s drinks to the table. Guan Shan watches He Tian’s retreating back, and takes another sip.

He Tian knows what he likes.

///

They brush their teeth in the bathroom later that evening. Guan Shan’s a bit drunk and has taken to smiling at random moments. He catches himself doing it now in the mirror with toothpaste on his chin. It’s not late—it’s not even midnight—but He Tian ordered Guan Shan three more cocktails and a bottle of beer and Guan Shan didn’t refuse them. Jian Yi and Zhengxi are still downstairs.

‘Jian Yi will sleep through the spa booking tomorrow mornin’,’ Guan Shan says, after spitting into the sink and wiping down his chin. ‘You should’ve booked it later.’

He Tian turns the taps off and pats his mouth dry with a hand towel.

‘No, I shouldn’t’ve.’

Guan Shan spits into the sink, splashes water on his face, then looks at him.

‘You counted on them not comin’.’

‘We’re here all weekend. They can book another time.’

‘Thought you said you wanted to spend time with them.’

‘I did—but I also said I wanted to spend time with you. The two aren’t mutually exclusive.’

Guan Shan frowns.

‘It means I can want both things at the same time,’ says He Tian. ‘Separately.’

‘I know what mutually exclusive means,’ Guan Shan snaps.

‘Are you angry with me?’

‘Why d’you keep askin’ me that?’

‘Because you seem angry with me.’

Guan Shan goes into the bedroom and He Tian follows him, switching off the bathroom light.

‘I just don’t know what kinda game you’re playin’,’ Guan Shan tells him. He dries his face on his shirt and starts to undress down to his underwear. He knows the alcohol is making him inordinately unselfconscious, and so he doesn’t care that He Tian’s eyes are taking in every part of newly visible skin.

‘Game?’ He Tian repeats. ‘If you want to call it a game then I guess it’s the same one I’ve been playing for four or five years, Guan Shan.’

Guan Shan stumbles as he pulls off his jeans, putting a hand on the end of the bed to steady himself. He frowns at himself for his clumsiness. Then he frowns at the thought that pops into his head.

‘You ever thought about givin’ up?’ he asks.

‘I can’t say that I have, no,’ says He Tian. ‘I haven’t won it yet.’

‘Or lost it.’

‘I rarely lose.’

‘That’s not never,’ Guan Shan points out, tugging a clean t-shirt over his head for sleeping in.

‘Do you not want to be alone with me or something?’

‘Did I say that?’

‘You didn’t have to—it’s quite the impression you’re giving off. I would have booked you a separate room if you really wanted.’

‘No, you wouldn’t.’

‘Yes, I would.’

‘No, you would’ve said you were gonna book me a room, and then we would’ve got here and they’d say it must be a mistake ‘cause there’s only one room, and you would’ve known full fuckin’ well I wasn’t gonna be able to pay for a room myself for the weekend so I’d have to share with you anyway.’ He tugs on a pair of sweatpants and tightens the drawstring with finality. ‘That’s what would’ve happened.’

‘I don’t think I would’ve done that at all.’

‘Good thing I know you well enough for the both of us then, huh?’

He Tian nods stiffly. ‘So you don’t want to be alone with me.’

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake—’

‘You’ve been giving me mixed signals since we were fourteen, Mo Guan Shan. Forgive me for wanting to clarify one or two things for once.’

‘Didn’t you just listen to me? You don’t fuckin’ care about fuckin’ clarity. You do whatever the fuck you want anyway.’

‘You only have to tell me what you want.’

‘I don’t know what I want!’

Later, he will wonder if there was any part of this conversation that held any truth. He only knows now what he feels, which is confusion, and guilt, and he will claim ignorance if it allows him to misplace and misunderstand the truth of his emotions. He can’t look at He Tian’s face.

Feeling hot, he wanders over to the double doors, clicking off the latch, and slides them open with a concentrated tug. The air is freezing against his skin, but this is something he registers only briefly.

Down below, in the valleys of the mountain, one of the villages is setting off fireworks. They’re far enough down that the fireworks explode into bloom just level with the hotel room. It feels like a private show just for the two of them. Guan Shan feels like both a welcome spectator and an intruder.

He Tian steps outside to join him and Guan Shan looks back. The heating is on in the bedroom, so He Tian closes the doors to keep the cold out. He has a jacket over his arm and puts it around Guan Shan’s bare shoulders.

‘You’ll catch a cold,’ He Tian says.

‘I’m not that fragile.’

‘I obviously didn’t say that,’ He Tian sighs. ‘I was implying that I didn’t want you to get ill.’

They watch the fireworks for a few minutes while He Tian lights a cigarette. They’re not as loud as Guan Shan thinks they should be; perhaps this is because he’s drunk, he thinks.

On Sunday night it will be the Lantern Festival. They have a taxi booked to take them down to the bottom of the mountain to Lulin Lake, where they’ll row small boats out onto the still surface of the water and release lanterns in celebration of the New Year. Earlier, Guan Shan had seen the boxes of fold-up paper lanterns in the luggage room behind the front desk.

They’re almost five-thousand feet up. If he squints, he can see the lake from the balcony, lined with street lamps, and the tiny pagoda nestled in the middle of the water, small as a pinhead from this height. It isn’t white and frosted-over like the photos, but he’s heard they’re due snow at some point over the weekend.

‘D’you, like, regret askin’ me to come?’ he asks impulsively.

‘I didn’t ask you, Jian Yi did.’ He Tian draws a drag from his cigarette, blows out, then says, ‘Why would you say that anyway?’

‘I get the feeling I’m kind of disappointin’ you or somethin’. You keep askin’ if I’m sad or angry but like—you know what I’m like.’

It has been a few weeks since they’ve spent any significant length of time together, but Guan Shan thought the lengthy voice notes they tend to leave each other at various points throughout the day would’ve been enough. Maybe He Tian has created some other version of him in his head while they’re apart. The possibility makes Guan Shan panic—surely he can’t be living up to it. In what many number of ways is he unlike the idealised version?

‘I do know what you’re like,’ He Tian concedes. ‘But I know you’re not always like that. You were laughing earlier.’

‘That’s because I’m drunk.’

‘Well, that’s—’ He Tian presses a hand to his mouth and his eyes flash. ‘Yes, you are a bit.’

‘Were you tryin’ to get me drunk?’

‘Not particularly. I drank the same amount as you.’

Guan Shan knows he did, but he knows their tolerances for alcohol are at vastly different levels.

‘I liked the cocktails,’ he mutters.

‘Good,’ says He Tian. There’s a thin, standing ashtray in the corner of the balcony where He Tian deposits his spent cigarette. ‘I was hoping you would. I thought it might loosen you up a bit.’

‘For conversation.’

He Tian’s grin is devilish. ‘What else?’

‘Shut up.’ Guan Shan puts his face in his hands. ‘Fuck, I’m drunk. I need water—and sleep. I’m not missin’ the spa tomorrow.’

‘Come on then,’ says He Tian, starting to open the doors. ‘I’ll get you some water—get into bed.’

When Guan Shan doesn’t move, He Tian lets go of the door handle and turns to him. His expression has gone soft, with a touch of concern drawing a line between his dark brows. There is something remarkably intense about the situation: Guan Shan can walk past He Tian now, who smells of cigarette smoke and has fireworks reflecting in the pitch darkness of his irises—or he can step back off the balcony. Those are his only two choices.

He has no desire to act on the second thought—it’s something fleeting, which he considers with a touch of alarm like seeing a wasp flying in through an open window. Both thoughts are equally intrusive, and he decides he needs to do something to remove them.

‘Can we stay here for a minute?’ he asks. ‘I just need a minute.’

He Tian slides the doors shut again, slowly. ‘Sure. Are you okay?’

‘Will you kiss me?’

He Tian’s mouth opens, and he searches Guan Shan’s face, looking for something. He hasn’t taken a single step forward.

‘You’re really drunk,’ he says eventually.

‘So you won’t.’

‘Ah, fuck. Guan Shan.’ He chuckles without humour and scratches the back of his neck. ‘Listen to yourself—you barely let me touch you in case someone sees and now you want me to kiss you? That doesn’t make sense. It makes me feel a bit used, to be honest.’

Guan Shan pulls on a defiant expression. ‘Do you care?’

‘You won’t like me if I say no, so I’m going to say nothing.’

‘You just said somethin’. Kiss me.’

‘Ah, fuck,’ He Tian says again, quieter. And then he does kiss him.

Guan Shan blames the cold and the alcohol for his mouth feeling so numb. He can feel He Tian’s mouth moving against his own, and he can feel the railing digging against his back before He Tian pulls him away and gathers him into his arms. This is what he likes most, he decides: the closeness, the warmth of He Tian’s body spanning his own. He’s safe. The kissing is just a thoroughfare, which perhaps he’d enjoy more without so much liquor in his bloodstream.

‘I don’t know why you put up with me,’ Guan Shan says after they break away, and He Tian just steps back to open the doors again, taking all the warmth with him.

‘Come on,’ he says again. ‘Get into bed.’

///

He doesn’t sleep very well that night.

In the couple of times that he wakes, he realises newly each time that He Tian is not sleeping in the bed with him but on the sofa. He hasn’t pulled it out or made it up. His long frame is curled on its side and he doesn’t stir when Guan Shan gets up to use the bathroom or get himself some more water.

When his alarm goes off at 8am, He Tian blinks blearily from the sofa and stretches long enough that his whole body shakes with small tremors. He yawns, reaches blearily for his phone on the floor, and sits up when he realises Guan Shan is watching him from the bed. The size of it seems ridiculous, and Guan Shan feels small and stupid lying in the middle of it.

‘Hey,’ says He Tian, twisting his torso and draping his arms over the back of the sofa. ‘You okay?’

‘Tired,’ says Guan Shan. ‘Ready to lie in a hot spring for an hour and think of nothin’.’

He Tian smirks. ‘How convenient that I can offer you such a thing.’

‘I hope your back doesn’t hurt.’

He Tian shrugs, getting to his feet, stretching again, his long torso curving over his hip, arms above his head. On his tip-toes, he could probably touch the ceiling.

He says, ‘I’ve slept in worse places.’

Guan Shan chews on the inside of his cheek, feeling awkward. Perhaps they aren’t going to mention it. He knows it happened. He remembers it in strange fragments, where some moments of time are completely absent, and others sit in his mind with startling clarity. He doesn’t spend much trying to piece them together.

He Tian turns the TV on with the remote, the news channel flicking across the screen, then he wanders across to the balcony doors and tugs open the curtains. It’s still a little dark outside, the sky muted and colourless. Outside, the small hot spring pools are lit with small lamps fixed around the wooden boardwalks, and hot steam curls away from the blueish water. There are only one or two people down there when Guan Shan gets out of bed to look down. He looks at He Tian with a touch of excitement bubbling in his throat.

‘Shall we?’ says He Tian.

///

He Tian smokes a cigarette and then they brush their teeth and put on the guest robes from the wardrobe before heading downstairs. There are no texts or missed calls from Jian Yi and Zhengxi, and they don’t knock on the door on the way down.

The attendant at the entrance to the hot spring gives them each a small towel and a pair of rubber outdoor shoes, and they go to the showers to store their robes and clean themselves before entering the water.

Guan Shan washes quickly and does not look at He Tian, whose broad shoulders and firm thighs he can see out the corner of his eye. He ducks out before He Tian’s finished, walking between the showers and the small sectioned-off pool the attendant had instructed them to use.

Guan Shan slips into the water, folding the small towel atop his head, and closes his eyes. He rests the back of his neck against the rocks bordering the pool and lets out a shuddering breath. The water feels soft and chalky against his skin, warm as if drawing out every bruise and ache and smarting twinge from his skin. He glances upwards when He Tian slips into the water beside him, his biceps flexing as he lowers himself carefully down with his hands on the side of the pool.

A thin sheen of water from the shower beads across his chest, and Guan Shan watches the transition of the water as it moves further down, towards his abdomen—then looks away quickly.

‘Wow, what a view,’ He Tian murmurs.

‘Yeah, it’s pretty nice,’ says Guan Shan.

The view isn’t much different from their balcony, but the experience in the pool is different, sitting in the placidly hot water with steam wafting around them. Here, they’re right on the edge of the spring, just on the cusp of the whole national park. A few metres further and the rock gives way to craggy mountainside and a harsh drop down to the valley, some few thousand feet down.

‘It’s safe, right?’ Guan Shan asks, thinking aloud.

He Tian smiles, amused, but he takes a moment to reply. ‘I think the resort’s been here a hundred years. The spring is probably thousands of years old. I think we’re safe.’

Guan Shan nods to himself. ‘That would’ve been a way to start the new year.’

He Tian chuckles, splashing him very lightly with the water. ‘You’re cheery in the mornings, aren’t you?’

‘Yeah, super optimistic. You know that.’

He Tian continues smiling. He’s looking out at the view, drinking it in, and Guan Shan thinks he looks happy. He enjoys the soft curve of He Tian’s mouth, the suggestion of dimples in his cheeks. His dark eyes look light this morning, even if there are soft brushes of purple beneath.

Guan Shan looks away.

‘Listen, last night—’ He wets his lips and swallows, then tries again: ‘I shouldn’t have said what I said last night.’

‘Don’t be,’ He Tian says lightly. He angles his head to look at Guan Shan, the gesture lazy. ‘I didn’t mind at all.’

‘I think it makes things awkward.’

‘We’ve kissed before.’

Guan Shan looks around furtively, but no one is looking at them. The pools curve in an L-shape around part of the mountainside, and Guan Shan can see two women at the opposite end. There is another man, in one of the nearer pools, but his eyes are shut and he looks to be asleep or at least in some state of tranquility.

‘It’s always awkward,’ Guan Shan says eventually, almost whispering.

‘That’s because you make it awkward. It doesn’t need to be a thing. It’s just kissing.’

Guan Shan looks at him. He sits up slightly.

Just kissing.

What does that mean? Would He Tian say that if they'd done something else—something more? Perhaps it doesn’t mean as much to him as Guan Shan thought it did. The realisation soaks him with a disappointment he feels entirely unentitled to. He’s the one apologising for it anyway, making suggestions that he’d wished it hadn’t happened. It gives him no right to feel much about any of it.

He Tian speaks again: ‘Maybe if you thought less about it, it would be easier.’

‘What the fuck does that mean?’ Guan Shan asks. ‘Easier?’

He Tian shrugs, his collarbones just shifting out of the water. ‘You freak out about it. You always, like, look around you whenever I touch you or talk about touching you. Like you’re scared of someone listening. I’m saying that maybe if you cared less about the significance of it, maybe you wouldn’t mind so much. You clearly want to do it.’

‘That’s—’

‘Because you did ask me to kiss you. Twice, actually.’

‘I was drunk.’

He Tian nods. ‘Alright.’

‘Alright?’

‘Alright you were drunk, and I shouldn’t have taken advantage of the opportunity to do something I wanted to do.’

Guan Shan stares at him. Beneath the water, he clenches his palms into fists and rests them on his thighs. It can’t be that simple—it’s never that simple. He knows He Tian has eased off since they were kids, going easy on the throttle and shifting smoothly into the gears of their relationship without the risk of stalling. But he’s still He Tian. He’s still the product of a wealthy family and a child who had to make grand, inappropriate gestures to get something he wanted. To get attention.

Guan Shan starts to stand. ‘Maybe this was the wrong idea—’

‘Stay,’ He Tian cuts in. His fingers are locked tight around Guan Shan’s wrist. Guan Shan senses that there is something regretful about his expression, but he can’t say exactly what. ‘I don’t know why, but I know you find this kind of thing difficult to talk about. I won’t say anything more about it.’

Slowly, Guan Shan settles himself back down, soft stone against his thighs. When he lowers himself into the water, he realises He Tian’s hand is still around his wrist, hidden beneath the surface.

‘I guess I won’t ask you to do that again, either,’ Guan Shan says.

‘Do what?’

Guan Shan’s ears have gone pink. ‘You know what.’

He Tian grins. ‘I think that depends on how many Lushan Lake’s you drink in a night.’

Guan Shan snorts, and they both look out to the view. The February sky is starting to brighten slightly, a hazy disc of light morphing above them. Guan Shan holds his breath as He Tian’s hand finally lets go—and sits on his waist. Beneath the water, the touch doesn’t feel quite real, like it could drift away at any moment.

‘Is this okay?’ He Tian asks quietly.

Stiffly, Guan Shan nods. He doesn’t look around this time. ‘Nothin’ else.’

He Tian’s grip firms and he lets out a sigh. The water ripples around them. Guan Shan closes his eyes.

///

‘What did you mean last night?’ He Tian asks at breakfast.

They’ve showered again since the hot spring, returning to the room to put clothes on and dress warmly for the hike they have planned. They’re sitting on a veranda on the second floor of the hotel, slightly overlooking part of the springs just below them and another side of the mountain top.

The rest of the restaurant is enclosed in glass behind them, but they sit outside for the view and so He Tian can smoke, and there are gas heaters and complimentary blankets draped around the wicker tables and chairs to keep them warm while they eat. They have vegetable noodle soup and rice, scallion pancakes and a pot of tea. Guan Shan has put a few satsumas in his pocket for the walk.

‘What did I mean when?’ Guan Shan asks warily, dipping a spoon into his soup. ‘Which part?’

‘When you said you didn’t know why I put up with you.’

Guan Shan grimaces. He’d rather not talk about last night at all, but he supposes he owes an element of honesty. He swallows a mouthful of his soup before responding, and He Tian flicks ash into the ashtray he has cupped in his lap like a hot drink. He hasn’t eaten much yet.

‘I guess I just meant that you’re pretty—forward with what you want. And I’m not… like, forthgivin’?’

‘Forthgiving.’

‘It must be irritatin’ to hang around someone who doesn’t give you what you want.’

He Tian smiles wryly at him. ‘Am I so insatiable that I can’t hold myself back?’

Guan Shan’s face burns. ‘Fuck you, that’s not—’

‘It’s true,’ He Tian states simply, cutting in. ‘I can’t hold myself back. And I do want you, you know I do. It’s a wonder your ego isn’t absolutely fucking massive with the amount of times I tell you this.’

‘Maybe I’m playin’ hard to get ‘cause I like hearin’ it.’

‘No, you wouldn’t do that.’ He Tian’s hand pauses between the ashtray and his mouth before he takes another drag. ‘You wouldn’t do that. We’d have to have a conversation if you are.’

Guan Shan shakes his head. ‘Aren’t you gonna eat?’

‘Eh,’ says He Tian. He tears off a piece of flaky pancake with his chopsticks and chews. ‘Yours are better.’

‘The restaurant’s cong you bing are half the price.’

‘The view’s better at Taro, too.’

Guan Shan pauses. ‘You haven’t looked around you properly if you’re thinkin’ that. We’re in a national park. On a mountain.’

‘I’ve looked plenty,’ says He Tian. ‘I get to watch you doing something you love at Taro.’

They don’t talk for a few minutes. Silence fills the moment well enough. Guan Shan drinks the rest of his tea until his chest feels warm, and they pick at the plate of pancakes until they’ve mopped up the dumpling dipping sauce. They still haven’t heard from Jian Yi or Zhengxi since last night, and He Tian decides to have another cigarette before they leave for the walk without them.

Guan Shan finds he doesn’t mind. It’s easy to set his mind to something active, where his body moves without his thoughts having to follow; it had been like that with basketball, working side by side, heart pumping. No difficult conversations to maneuver and silences to endure.

The restaurant door opens onto the veranda, and a young girl walks out. She has dyed-blonde hair and a short bob. She’s dressed all in white like she’s going skiing. Guan Shan recognises her from the spring that morning.

He watches her look around the veranda, a carton of cigarettes in her hand, then her gaze meets Guan Shan’s and she walks over.

‘Hey, sorry to bother you both. Can I borrow a light?’

He Tian glances up at her. He picks up the Zippo lighter, sitting on his pack of cigarettes, and lifts the lid. A small flame sparks.

‘Help yourself,’ he says, smiling.

She leans over, the cigarette propped between her lips. The end burns cherry red.

‘Thanks.’ She looks at Guan Shan, frowning slightly. Then her eyes widen. Her foot taps onto the wooden decking. Tick-tick-tick-tick— ‘Oh! Wait. Aren't you the guy that owns Taro? The restaurant in Wuhan? I’ve seen you there!’

Guan Shan blinks. Even He Tian looks impressed.

‘Yeah, that’s me,’ he says, putting a hand on the back of his neck. ‘No one’s, er, ever recognised me before.’

She nods, taking a drag. ‘Your red-braised beef noodles? Fuck. One of the best meals I’ve ever had. I rave about it to all of my friends. I’ve probably ordered it like a hundred times.’

‘That’s—thank you. Thanks.’

‘You’re so welcome.’ Another inhale. She holds her cigarette very particularly, holding her arms while she speaks, like she’s pretending to be older than she is, or more sophisticated. ‘So are you here for long?’

‘In Jiangxi?’ Guan Shan asks. ‘A couple days. We go back to the city on Monday.’

He Tian shifts across from him, and Guan Shan wonders if he’s said something wrong. He feels self-conscious of their empty plates. Is he supposed to ask her to join them? The moment is awkward, and the girl just stands there, smoking her cigarette. She can’t be much older than eighteen or nineteen, just out of school.

Guan Shan scratches his nose, and she grinds out the cigarette into the ashtray that He Tian is holding in his lap.

She says, ‘I know this is a bit forward, but are you busy tonight?’

Guan Shan looks immediately to He Tian, who holds his palm out open-up in a be my guest feature.

‘Not really, I—’

‘I was wondering if you wanted to grab a drink at the bar, maybe?’

Guan Shan waits for the punchline, but it doesn’t come. She’s looking right at him. Not He Tian. He stares at her.

‘Don’t be rude, Little Mo,’ says He Tian, steely. He inclines his head. ‘Give her an answer.’

Guan Shan looks back to the girl. He doesn’t know what’s happening. What’s happening? His lungs feel empty, but he’s sure he just took a breath a moment ago. He tries to take another one.

‘I guess I can go for one drink—’

‘Great!’ she says. She clutches her cigarette carton close to her chest. ‘I’ll see you at seven?’

They exchange a few more words, trading logistics. Guan Shan’s tongue feels heavy and later he won’t fully remember what is said at this point. He’ll remember her walking away, rejoining her friend who is standing on the other side of the glass doors, their heads craning close to each other. The rest will follow with excruciating clarity.

‘Wow,’ says Guan Shan, sitting back in his chair, stunned. ‘What the fuck just happened?’

He Tian smiles around his cigarette, then exhales. His eyes have gone narrow and cutting. ‘I was just asking myself exactly the same thing.’

They look at each other for a few minutes. He Tian’s smile has completely vanished. It’s a facade he’s forgotten to put back in place. Guan Shan’s stomach feels like it has stones in it.

‘You’re angry,’ Guan Shan says.

He Tian starts to tug another cigarette out of the carton. This will have been his fourth—fifth?—since they sat down. His hands are shaking.

‘So did you actually just agree to go on a date with a girl right in front me?’

‘What? It’s not a date. She wants to know about the restaurant.’

He Tian goes still. His eye flick up. ‘You’re kidding me, right? You are actually fucking with me right now.’

There’s a long pause.

‘He Tian—’

‘Are you going to bring her up to the room after? Fuck her in our bed. Are you?’

Blood is rushing through Guan Shan’s ears. He feels stuck to his seat and is sure that if he even tries to walk away his body will refuse to comply. He doesn’t even try. He Tian’s lighter refuses to spark, and he swears and throws it onto the table with a clatter that makes Guan Shan jump. He Tian leans back in his chair and runs both hands through his hair, eyes on the dull-bright sky. His expression is unreadable.

‘You told me to say yes,’ Guan Shan says numbly. ‘You said, tell her yes, Guan Shan.’

‘I told you to answer her, Guan Shan. What you said was your decision. I’m actually astounded you’d think I would tell you to say yes. Why would I tell you to say that?’

‘Because that’s the kind of thing you would do.’

‘Tell you to fuck a girl?’

‘That’s—Yeah. You would. Just to fuck with me.’

‘Good god,’ He Tian says, getting to his feet. ‘I’ve been trying to fuck you for the past five years. Why would I do that?’

‘Where are you going? Wait.’

‘I need some time—alone.’ He Tian pockets his cigarettes and takes in the view as if he isn’t going to see it again, as if it’s all he can do not to look at Guan Shan. ‘I’ve got some thinking to do.’

He leaves, the veranda door shutting behind him. Guan Shan is left alone outside.

Guan Shan doesn’t know how much time passes. He sits there until the rest of the tea has gone cold in the pot and his cheeks have lost their brandished burn. More clouds come and the sky has darkened slightly. Birds hop around the decking. A red-breasted bullfinch is chased off by a crow. In the restaurant behind him, the waiters have started clearing up the empty tables, and Guan Shan knows he is the last one sitting there.

He knows that he starts crying at some point, but he doesn’t know why. He wonders if the bar is open and how much they will serve him. He pulls his phone from his pocket and checks the trains back to Wuhan. Mostly, he watches the mountainside before him, which changes little and darkens with the sky, great shadows swallowing up acres of land and small clusters of people’s homes.

///

Jian Yi and Zhengxi find him eventually. Jian Yi yawns as he flops into He Tian’s vacant chair and eats the cold leftover pancakes on the table.

Zhengxi looks at Guan Shan strangely.

‘We missed the spring,’ Jian Yi says around a mouthful of cong you bing. ‘Way too hungover. They let us rebook for later tonight when it’s all lit up. You wanna come?’

Guan Shan shakes his head. ‘You two should go together. We already went this morning.’

‘Where’s He Tian?’ asks Zhengxi.

‘In the room, I think.’

‘On his own?’

‘I guess.’

Zhengxi’s lips have pressed into a thin line. He understands moods very easily, even if no one says anything. He would have known what He Tian meant when that girl asked Guan Shan for a drink. He wouldn’t have said yes. Guan Shan doesn’t even remember her name, only the dyed-blonde bob, and the way she’d extinguished her cigarette.

He feels a flare of anger on He Tian’s behalf now. She shouldn’t have done that; it wasn’t very polite. He Tian would have reprimanded her if their roles had been reversed, and instead Guan Shan had just watched her do it.

He pours himself a cup of cold tea, just to do something with his hands, and realises they’re shaking. Zhengxi is watching him, and watching the way the tea trembles in its cup. He’s frowning now.

‘We had a fight,’ Guan Shan says.

Jian Yi is dismissive. ‘You always fight.’

‘I think I’ve ruined things.’

‘Ruined?’ Zhengxi asks.

‘You?’ says Jian Yi.

‘There was this girl, I…’ He blinks and looks up. A thin veil of rain has started to fall, the wetness ice-cold on his cheeks. The tips of his fingers have gone white.

‘Are you alright, Guan Shan?’

Guan Shan grimaces. He would like for people to stop asking him that. Isn’t it obvious?

‘No,’ he says. ‘This weekend was a fuckin’ mistake. I should’ve never come.’

‘What happened with the girl?’ Jian Yi asks.

Guan Shan tells them. He gives them a version of events. He can’t be sure if it’s an accurate understanding of what actually happened, or just what he thinks happened. He Tian would’ve told it a different way, but there’s an element of inescapable bias that Guan Shan acknowledges mars just about every conversation they ever have.

Neither of them ever says much without thinking about the implications of it first—or at least without thinking about what they want to happen out of saying it. They’re impulsive, that’s true—but maybe only so much as anyone else.

Isn’t everyone driven by what they want?

What does he want?

‘Why did you say yes?’ Jian Yi asks. ‘Was she hot?’

‘Jian Yi.’

‘I don’t know,’ Guan Shan says. ‘I guess I wasn't payin’ attention to that. I just thought she was interested in the restaurant. That’s what she said. She recognised me from Taro and said she liked one of the dishes.’

‘So she was flirting with you,’ says Zhengxi.

‘It wasn’t like that. You weren’t even there.’

‘He Tian was,’ Zhengxi points out.

Guan Shan stands up finally. His legs have gone slightly numb and it takes a minute for the sensation to rush back through his thighs and down to his ankles. He rubs feeling back into them with his hands.

‘I’m gonna go speak to him.’

‘Talking solves everything,’ Jian Yi says, nodding animatedly.

‘Not everything,’ Zhengxi adds. ‘You said he wanted to be left alone.’

Jian Yi scoffs. ‘Which means, like, I’m going to brood but I want you to come and follow me. I think you guys just need to fuck.’

‘Maybe you should give him some space,’ Zhengxi says evenly, as if Jian Yi hasn’t spoken. ‘I’ll talk to him. Keep your phone on you.’

He gets up and leaves before Guan Shan can say anything. At this point, he doesn’t know what else he can suggest. Jian Yi has finished the pancakes and is now sucking off a sheen of oil from his fingers before wiping them in his jeans. He drums his fingers against his thighs, then turns his face to Guan Shan.

‘You want a drink?’ he asks.

‘I thought you had a hangover.’

‘I do,’ says Jian Yi, smacking his hands on his thighs. ‘What’s a New Year’s weekend without a little hair of the dog?’

///

‘I don’t think I should drink. That’s what happened last night.’

‘What happened last night?’

‘I kissed him. On the balcony. I was drunk.’

‘Oh,’ says Jian Yi.

It’s not midday yet so Jian Yi orders them hot chocolate spiked with five-spice and rum, which curls pleasantly in Guan Shan’s stomach and sticks to his gums. Jian Yi eats whipped cream off the top with a spoon.

‘Did you like it?’

Guan Shan pulls a face. ‘What kinda question is that?’

‘I’m just saying. If you didn’t like it then it would explain a few things—like why you asked that girl out.’

‘I didn’t—she asked me.’

‘Well then it would explain why you said yes.’

‘I misunderstood. It was a misunderstandin’, that’s all.’ He can feel himself getting frustrated. ‘I’ve got fuck-all interest in goin’ on a date with some girl.’

Jian Yi chews on a marshmallow. ‘Why’s that?’

‘Why’s what?’

‘Is it ‘cause she isn’t your type?’

‘That’s not even—’

‘You don’t like her, is that it?’

‘I don’t like anyone except for—’

Jian Yi looks steadily at Guan Shan and lifts his cup to his mouth. A layer of cream imprints on his upper lip and he swipes it off with his tongue. Guan Shan realises what he’s done; he should give Jian Yi more credit.

Now, he grimaces and looks down at his lap where his hands have curled into fists. Jian Yi is waiting for him to say something, but he doesn’t know what it is. He’s not keen on the idea of talking about this. He can barely stand having the conversation inside of his own head.

‘Are you going to finish that?’ Jian Yi asks, gesturing to Guan Shan’s half-empty hot chocolate.

‘Get your own.’

Jian Yi shrugs. ‘Alright then.’

He gets up and goes over to the bar, leaving Guan Shan sitting there on his own. Their booth is nestled next to one of the windows, so Guan Shan can see out across the national park where drizzle turns the landscape hazy. A fire burns in the middle of the bar, around which a young family is nestled on leather sofas, oblivious to Guan Shan’s inner turmoil.

Jian Yi returns eventually with two more cups of hot chocolate, settles them on the table, and says, ‘I never really told Zhengxi how I felt, you know.’ He busies himself with the cream on his new cup and says, ‘I wish I had. I tip-toed around the idea of it and messed with both our heads. And then I didn’t have the chance anymore. Three or four years were gone—’ He snaps his fingers. ‘—like that.’

‘You don’t need to tell me this.’

Jian Yi shrugs. ‘He hated me a bit when I came back. I think he still does. There’s a lotta resentment for the stuff I should have said and didn’t. It can’t have been easy for him.’

Guan Shan wraps his hands around his cup. ‘Wasn’t easy for any of us.’

Jian Yi nods and says, ‘Yeah.’ He tucks loose blond strands behind his ears and clears his throat. ‘If I’d told him outright from the beginning, I think that would have been easier. A lot more certainty. He wouldn’t have been so upset when I did come back.’

‘Did you know you were gonna come back?’

Jian Yi shakes his head. ‘Never.’

Guan Shan swallows this. They haven’t talked about this at all. Probably, Jian Yi has told Zhengxi. Hearing it feels like Guan Shan is looking into someone’s living room window at night, the curtains left open and lamplight illuminating the whole private scene.

‘I know what you’re tryna say,’ says Guan Shan.

‘Do you?’

‘Say what you wanna when you can or you might regret it? All that bullshit?’

Jian Yi nods soberly. ‘YOLO,’ he says.

‘Fuck off,’ Guan Shan says, rolling his eyes.

‘Things still aren’t right between us. I have to work hard at this.’

‘You were fourteen,’ Guan Shan mutters. ‘You can’t be that hard on yourself.’

‘I really can. And I’m just saying that—things aren’t perfect right away. These things take time. Then again… I don’t know, He Tian’s not like Zhengxi. Maybe they’ll fit right into place once you both have what you want.’

‘What are you tryna say?’

‘He Tian won’t hold a grudge. Not for you. If you went up there right now and told him how you feel, I think everything would be fine.’

‘I don’t think it’s as simple as that.’

‘Why not? Seriously, why can’t it be?’

Guan Shan doesn’t have an answer for him. He just knows how his life goes. It’s never that simple—it’s tormented and filled with obstruction and blockades.

He can feel some kind of emotion welling inside of him at the thought, a stinging feeling in his nostrils and a pinched feeling behind his eyes. He breathes out shallowly through his mouth, feeling frustrated and upset with himself for feeling so frustrated. The cycle is vicious and he wants to get off—get out. He wants to fix himself.

He stares down at the lumps of cocoa powder in the bottom of his mug.

Why can’t it be?

Yes, exactly. That’s exactly what he would like to know.

Why can’t it be?

Why can’t he let it be?

///

They stand on the balcony where Guan Shan had kissed him last night so He Tian can smoke his way through the rest of his pack. His bags are ready by the front door of the hotel room, and Zhengxi hasn’t said much since He Tian let him in, thinking it would be Guan Shan at the door, feeling angry and happy at the same time that it wasn’t.

‘Have you asked him what he wants?’ asks Zhengxi.

‘Quite explicitly.’

‘And what did he say?’

‘I don’t know. Which is bullshit, obviously. The guy knows himself better than anyone ever I’ve met.’

‘Yeah, I guess,’ says Zhengxi thoughtfully, bracing his hands on the balcony railing. ‘He doesn’t leave much room for interpretation.’

‘Except when it comes to me.’ He Tian draws smoke into his lungs and coughs slightly. His eyes water. ‘I think I’m getting somewhere with him and then he pulls away. Slippery as a fucking eel. It drives me insane.’

‘Which only makes you want him more.’

He Tian gestures towards Zhengxi with his cigarette in agreement. ‘Which only makes him run further.’

‘And now there’s some girl…?’

He Tian recalls her blonde hair, cut to her jaw line. Her small nose. Cute, he’d thought.

‘I’ve been thinking about it. Playing it over and over in my head.’

‘And what have you decided?’

‘He really has no fucking idea how to handle other people.’

Zhengxi smiles slightly. ‘I didn’t realise you were such an expert on that front.’

‘I am—if someone doesn’t know me. I’m a fucking delight to strangers. Guan Shan knows me better than anyone.’

‘Hmm,’ says Zhengxi. ‘I think if he did he’d know that you’re more upset than you let on about your relationship. Or lack of one.’

‘Thanks, Zhan Zhengxi,’ He Tian mutters. There’s only one more cigarette in the pack. He stubs out the dregs of his last one and considers lighting it. His throat feels raw, his chest thick with tobacco smoke, his limbs wired with nicotine.

Zhengxi lifts his hands. ‘I’m in no position to judge, believe me.’

‘What are you talking about? You and Jian Yi are a model couple. A vision of millennial romance.’

‘Don’t be bitter.’

‘Get me a bottle and I’ll show you bitter.’

It isn’t like him to be like this; Guan Shan makes his thoughts dark, which isn’t his fault. It’s He Tian’s choice how he sees the world, whether it shits on him or not. Whether Guan Shan is cruel to him or not—in his own self-tormented, oblivious way.

‘You’re not really going to leave, are you?’ asks Zhengxi, inclining his head towards the packed bags near the door.

He Tians gives in and lights the last cigarette. ‘Am I going to stay here two more nights? That’s the question, I think.’

‘Well, are you going to?’

‘He Cheng has said he’ll pick me up. He had business in Hangzhou so he’ll get me on the way.’ He smiles dryly with narrowed, scornful eyes. ‘It’s all worked out rather well, really.’

‘You don’t mean that.’

‘Don’t I?’

Zhengxi rubs his palm across his mouth in a frustrated, thoughtful gesture. Each time He Tian breathes out cigarette smoke he wrinkles his nose slightly. Guan Shan does something similar, but He Tian knows he’s drawn to it all the same.

Sometimes, Guan Shan asks for a drag just because, and He Tian lets him. He shouldn’t, because he knows it’s no good for either of them, but he likes the thought of their lips pressing around the same wet paper. He Tian knows it’s stupid to be drawn to the eroticism of something that might kill them. He’s selfish like that.

‘Tell me what you want, He Tian,’ says Zhengxi.

‘Are you trying to fuck me, Zhan Zhengxi?’

‘Answer the question.’

‘Fine—’ He Tian turns to look at him face-on. ‘I want to hold him without having to ask, because I know that he wants me to and he won’t pull away. That’s embarrassing, isn’t it? That’s all I want.’

‘I don’t think it’s embarrassing.’

‘Yeah, well, you wouldn’t. You’re a fucking sap under that sober exterior.’

‘It took me a while to let Jian Yi back in again when he came back.’

He Tian winces slightly. He feels bad. He isn’t particularly curious about the inner machinations of Jian Yi and Zhengxi’s relationship and never has been. It exists on the periphery of everything that happens with him and Guan Shan.

Of course, he feels sad for them when they fight, and he shared some of Zhengxi’s distress when Jian Yi fucked off a day into high school, a secondary kind of anxiety—but it ends there. He would like to see their relationship succeed in the sense that he doesn’t want either of them to be unhappy, but he knows that he’s jealous of them, too.

They missed four-plus years together and they are still further ahead. Guan Shan and He Tian haven’t taken a single step forward. After this morning, He Tian is convinced that backwards is all their future holds. The thought terrifies himself. He’s going to spend a lifetime loving Guan Shan and knowing he’ll never have it back. What the fuck has he done to himself?

‘It wasn’t his fault,’ says He Tian.

‘I didn’t know that at the time. I thought he’d chosen to go—chosen not to keep in touch. He tried really hard with me at first, and I was always so sharp with him. I was a bit brutal, to be honest.’

‘You were hurt.’

‘So was he,’ says Zhengxi. ‘He’d spent years being some place he didn’t want to be and came back to someone he could trust. He came straight to me and I pushed him away.’

He Tian walks over to the ashtray and extinguishes his final cigarette. He settles himself down on one of the chairs on the balcony and stretches his legs out, hands in his pockets. It’s close to freezing and they should probably go inside. He doesn’t feel much relief now that the cigarettes are gone. The habit has intensified over the day, and now he itches to busy his hands with something new. Perhaps they should go down to the bar.

His eyes flick over to Zhengxi, who is still standing by the railing, looking out somberly across the park.

‘I think you’re being a bit hard on yourself,’ He Tian tells him.

‘I do resent what I did,’ Zhengxi agrees. ‘I struggle with being close to him, too. I think he’s going to leave again a lot of the time. I’d forgotten how—erratic he is, too. Impulsive.’

‘Guan Shan’s like that.’

‘He is—in a different way. He’s the kind to light his bed on fire, you know?’

‘Yes,’ says He Tian, straightening a bit. ‘Yes.’

He knows exactly what Zhengxi means.

‘There’s a lot going on in their heads,’ Zhengxi continues. ‘I don’t think any of us are particularly good at working it out.’

‘It’s like pulling teeth sometimes,’ says He Tian. ‘Trying to get an answer out of him. One minute I think I’ve read him right, and then he’s pushing away.’

Zhengxi looks at him over his shoulder. ‘I think you should talk to each other.’

‘I think we’ve said a lot of the same shit over and over again, if I’m honest.’

‘Do you want my advice?’

He Tian sighs. He gestures vaguely. Go on then.

Zhengxi turns, presses his spine against the railing, and looks down at He Tian with a softened expression that makes He Tian tense immediately. He isn’t going to like this.

‘I think you’re scared of not being with him, so you keep reaching for him and getting hurt just because it’s easier than the alternative. Maybe you should just… call it quits. Put it all out there.’

He Tian swallows. ‘An ultimatum?’

You ever think about givin’ up?

‘Yeah.’

‘That’s not the advice I want to hear.’

Zhengxi nods. ‘It rarely is.’

///

Guan Shan goes down to the bar ten minutes before seven, sweating in his clothes. She’s there already, sitting alone at the bar and sipping at a glass of wine. She’s watching the TV when Guan Shan stands there, watching her for a moment. She has her chin cupped in her palm and her eyes flicker across the screen while she reads the subtitles. There’s a reporter, an alleyway filled with lanterns, a piece on New Year in Beijing.

The girl is pretty, Guan Shan realises. She has a round face and small, pixie-like features. He likes her blonde hair, both striking and a little rebellious. He wonders what it would be like to spend an evening having a few drinks with a stranger, getting to know someone new. They could share a bottle of wine and never see each other again, and he would think of her at certain points in the future—that girl on the mountain.

She sees him standing there eventually and waves, sitting up on the bar chair and picking up her glass of wine. Guan Shan walks directly towards her and doesn’t breathe.

He stops in front of her.

‘I’m sorry. I’m sure you’re a really nice girl and everythin’, but I’m actually seein’ someone at the moment. And I really like them.’

She puts her glass down slowly.

‘Oh,’ she says.

‘If you come by the restaurant some time though I’ll give you a meal on the house. No charge. To apologise.’

She looks at him for a little while before saying, ‘This is a bit embarrassing.’

‘I think there was a bit of a miscommunication in what you meant by a drink.’

She leans back slightly. ‘Ah,’ she says, as if she understands a little but not fully. ‘Is it that guy you were with at breakfast? The dark-haired one. I saw you together around the hotel and I thought you were, like, together, but you seemed kind of cold with him so I wasn’t sure.’

‘Cold,’ Guan Shan echoes.

‘Yeah. Disinterested? Pissed off, like you’d had a fight.’

‘Is that what it looks like?’

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. ‘Honestly? Yes. Not that I know either of you, of course. And I’m not just saying that because I’ve been stood up—’ Guan Shan winces. ‘—but it just looked like you didn’t want to be around him. At least… not in public. Is it like that?’

Guan Shan hangs his head. ‘I guess it is. And it shouldn’t be.’

‘I’m sorry. It’s not really my business.’ She blows air through her cheeks. ‘Jī… You must have thought I was really rude earlier.’

‘No,’ Guan Shan lies. ‘I don’t know what I was thinking, to be honest.’

Neither of them says anything for a minute. The girl bites her lip, sensing that Guan Shan is still standing there and hasn’t left, like he probably should have by now.

‘Do you still want to grab that drink?’ she asks.

Guan Shan shakes his head. ‘I shouldn’t. There’s someone I’ve gotta go find. Maybe another time—as friends? Come to Taro.’

She lifts her glass in comradely salute. ‘Good luck.’

Guan Shan nods. ‘Thanks,’ he says, still hesitating, and then he leaves.

///

Upstairs, he knocks on their bedroom door. It takes He Tian a few minutes to answer, by which time Guan Shan is mostly convinced that he’s asleep or not there. He hadn’t considered that He Tian might have left. The possibility runs a chill through him.

Eventually there is a loud banging sound from behind the door and He Tian does open the door, leaning in the frame. Inside, the bedroom is pitch black. Guan Shan wrinkles his nose at the smell of cigarettes and liquor that washes from He Tian’s skin. His skin looks sallow and his pupils are huge.

‘You’re drunk,’ says Guan Shan.

‘What else was I gonna do?’ He Tian says, slurring slightly. ‘You weren’t here.’

‘I went for a walk to clear my head. And I’ve been across the hall with Jian Yi. We watched TV.’

‘Sounds nice.’

Guan Shan glances behind him. ‘I just—Can I get some of my clothes? I kinda wanna shower.’

‘You’re not sleeping here tonight?’

Guan Shan’s eyes roam He Tian’s face. ‘Jian Yi and Zhengxi said I could sleep on their sofa. I thought you probably wouldn’t want me here.’

He Tian doesn’t reply to this. Eventually, he steps to one side and lets Guan Shan come in. The door thuds shut behind him, locking again, and Guan Shan sucks in a quiet breath. The darkness, the smell of cigarettes and alcohol—there is an air of possibility sitting between the two of them that Guan Shan can’t bring himself to act on. It sits on his skin like the buzz of a livewire running just above his arm, the hairs standing on end.

He brushes past He Tian and walks over to the wardrobe. He hears He Tian stalking behind him, but He Tian only settles himself in the armchair in the corner of the room. There is a small table next to him and a bottle of something that looks close to empty. There’s no glass. The balcony light has been switched on through the thick curtains; a thin sliver of orange light makes its way through the gap in the fabric and onto part of the floor, and also on He Tian’s wrist, which rests on the arm of the chair.

Guan Shan grabs fresh underwear, sweatpants, a long-sleeved shirt and a hoodie. His hands yank the fabric from the wardrobe, moving quickly and without thinking. A fresh bout of panic comes over him. He’s breathing hard through his mouth. When he looks over his shoulder, He Tian is still sitting there, watching him.

He clutches the pile of clothes to his chest and says, ‘I didn’t meet her, by the way. I mean I did, but to say no.’

‘That was decent of you.’

Guan Shan’s expression tightens. ‘She was civil about it. She got that there’d been some kinda—miscommunication.’

‘Hm.’

‘You gonna stop drinkin’?’

‘Haven’t decided yet.’

‘I think you should.’

‘Why? Scared I might ask you to kiss me?’

Guan Shan shuts his eyes. ‘Fuck’s sake, He Tian…’

‘I spoke with Zhengxi earlier.’

Warily, Guan Shan nods. ‘I spoke with Jian Yi.’

‘Oh, good. So neither of us have spoken with each other.’

‘You were pretty fuckin’ clear that you didn’t want to.’

He Tian takes a swig of the bottle. He’s at a safe distance across the room. Probably, Guan Shan could reach the door by the time He Tian got to him. He wonders what it means that he should have to consider this. There is a dark, wicked energy in the room that makes his chest hurt.

‘I’m goin’ to their room,’ Guan Shan says quietly.

‘We have the boat trip tomorrow—the Lantern Festival. Will you still come on it with me?’

Guan Shan’s breath catches. ‘’Course I will.’ He ventures: ‘Your head’s gonna fuckin’ kill you in the morning.’

‘Yeah, well. I want us to talk tomorrow. Properly.’

Guan Shan doesn’t know what ‘properly’ means. It scares him. There is an element of finality to it—some sense of an ending. He wants to leave now.

‘Maybe we shouldn’t drink tomorrow—either of us.’

‘If that’s what you want.’

Frustrated, Guan Shan shakes his legs. He isn’t going to get into the semantics of what he wants and what is best. He looks at the balcony doors and thinks of last night, the sudden flash of impulse he had felt and not wanted to act upon.

He Tian is the sort of person who will think it and do it just to prove that he is strong enough to survive the fall. When drunk, the impulse will be even stronger. Guan Shan treads across to the balcony doors without looking at He Tian, like moving past a wild animal and refusing to look it in the eye. At the door, he twists the key until it locks and, almost secretively, he pockets the key and steps away.

‘I saw that,’ He Tian drawls, head tilted back sedately.

‘Good. You can go downstairs if you wanna fuckin’ smoke.’

‘You’re just being cruel now.’

‘That’s the opposite of what I’m doin’.’

‘Ah, Mo Guan Shan. You always know how to hurt me.’

Guan Shan’s face crumples. ‘Don’t say that.’

He Tian opens his mouth, and then shakes his head. He laughs and mutters something unintelligible under his breath. He cradles the bottle in his lap.

‘Go to bed, Guan Shan,’ he says softly, sounding unbearably sad. ‘Tomorrow, we’ll talk.’

Guan Shan looks at him. He could say no, stage a small protest and take the sofa. The thought of leaving He Tian here alone for the night fills him with fear. He’ll only be across the hall. Perhaps He Tian will fall asleep here in the chair and sleep until midday.

‘I don’t like the sound of that,’ he tells He Tian, sounding like a child.

‘Yeah,’ He Tian sighs, his dark, blood-shot gaze meeting Guan Shan’s. ‘Neither did I.’

///

‘Hey, Zhan Zhengxi?’ Guan Shan murmurs. Jian Yi is asleep in the bed, and Zhengxi is helping Guan Shan turn down the sofa bed for the night. ‘You spoke to He Tian earlier, right?’

Zhengxi nods cautiously, tucking the fitted sheet beneath the mattress. ‘I did.’

‘Did he say somethin’? Like, about me and him talkin’?’

‘Why do you ask?’

Guan Shan shrugs, tries for nonchalance. ‘Just curious, I guess.’

‘He said a few things, yeah. But I’m not going to take sides here.’

‘You mean you’re not going to take my side.’

Zhengxi pauses. ‘No,’ he says eventually. ‘I mean it’s not my place, to be honest. The two of you need to figure things out before we go back to Wuhan. This has gone on long enough.’

‘Figure things out? What does that mean?’

Zhengxi sighs. ‘Come on, Guan Shan. Figure it out.’

///

It snows overnight, dousing the landscape in white, cutting blankness. Guan Shan finds himself pausing at every window as he passes through the hotel, just to look outside. It doesn’t snow much in the city anymore, and the sight of so much bright coldness makes him feel like a kid again.

He wakes early after a few hours of restless sleep and goes down to breakfast on his own, feeling exhausted. His head is fuzzy and he orders a spiked hot chocolate from the bar to take into the breakfast hall, which he drinks with an extra spoonful of sugar and a small plate of sweet breads and two satsumas. He’s not sure he can stomach anything else. He thinks perpetually of tonight and what might be said.

He Tian joins him after he’s been sitting for twenty minutes, and neither of them say anything for a few minutes.

‘Well, I’m glad we both look like absolute shit,’ He Tian says eventually, hiding his face in one hand.

‘Bad night?’

‘Understatement, Mo Guan Shan. Understatement.’

Guan Shan slides along his plate. ‘Eat somethin’.’

‘I think I’ll be sick. I just need water.’

Guan Shan watches him get shakily to his feet and stagger across to the drinks counter, where he pours himself a cup of tea from the on-tap canister, swallows it all, and pours himself another. He does this three times before coming back to the table, by which time a small queue of other hotel guests have formed behind him. With one small smile of apology, he’s absolved.

‘I think I trashed the room,’ he admits, settling back down.

Guan Shan pauses. ‘Trashed.’

‘I was in a bit of a state.’

‘I was hopin’ you’d just go to sleep last night,’ Guan Shan admits. ‘I’ve never seen you like that before.’

‘I was in a bit of a state,’ He Tian repeats with a grim smile. ‘I’ve told the front desk. It’s been handled.’

‘Must be nice to sweep up your messes so fuckin’ easily without liftin’ a finger.’

He Tian ignores him and sips delicately at his fourth or fifth cup of tea. It must be scalding his throat, Guan Shan realises. They sit there in silence for a little while, and Guan Shan likes that they can do this. There is a comfortable, communicative silence that has built itself on steadily solid ground over the last five years, an aftermath that persists despite the cycle of war and ruin.

Guan Shan doesn’t always feel it when they’re around people, but sometimes he does, like time has thinned out to just exist between the two of them, like they’re each conveying some kind of secret. It’s there always when they’re alone or set apart from everyone else. Like yesterday in the hot spring, and the night before on the balcony.

They understand each other without needing to say anything—until Guan Shan went and ruined everything, and He Tian’s reaction had triggered something so violent in the both of them that Guan Shan had spent most of last night crying in the bathroom with the light off and hoping Zhengxi and Jian Yi wouldn’t hear.

‘We’ll leave here around five o’clock,’ says He Tian. ‘Get to the lake around half-past, then on the boats for six. It’s going to be cold.’

‘I’ll wrap up.’

‘What are you doing until then?’

‘I can’t spend the whole weekend drinkin’.’

‘Why not?’

‘That’s gonna be an expensive bar tab when we check out.’

‘I’ve paid worse.’

Guan Shan sighs. ‘There’s more to see and do than getting trashed in a hotel room.’

‘Then let’s go see it.’

Guan Shan pauses. If he looks down, he can see the thin vibration of his t-shirt, shimmering across the beating pulse of his heart. He can’t ignore the feeling that this is something of a goodbye. He looks out through the glass walls and onto the veranda. This morning, no one is sitting outside; the wooden decking has a thick layer of snow coating it, dissolving hard edges and sharp architecture. The chairs and tables have been freshly wiped down and drip with melted snow.

‘I kind of just wanna sleep.’

He Tian nods. ‘Alright.’

‘I know it’s a waste.’

‘We’re a two-hour train ride away. You can always come back.’

Guan Shan feels the inside of his mouth go dry. You, he thinks. How specific. He Tian likes to talk with grand idealisation most of the time. He likes to talk in plural—’we’, ‘us’, crafting a future that Guan Shan doesn’t always agree to, but will indulge in at a later time when he’s alone and He Tian isn’t expecting him to roll his eyes typically in dismissal.

The collectivism does scare him. He isn’t sure how to feel about He Tian deciding on how their future will pan out when Guan Shan never accounts for much further ahead in his life than a few days.

But now there is just ‘you’.

He Tian means Guan Shan can come here on his own, if he wants, of his own conviction. The thought that He Tian might no longer be planning for the both of them makes Guan Shan’s head ache.

He rubs lightly at his temples.

‘I guess I’ll see you later then.’

‘I’m tired too,’ says He Tian.

They both look at each other. Guan Shan drinks the rest of his chocolate, the last mouthful thick with undissolved cocoa powder, clinging to the sides of his throat.

‘Maybe we should both sleep,’ he suggests.

‘If you don’t mind.’

‘Not really,’ says Guan Shan, and they leave.

///

They don’t say anything as they ride the elevator up to their room, walking down the hallway side-by-side. He Tian opens the door with his keycard, and when Guan Shan looks inside it’s spotless. Early morning light soaks through the room, leaving half of it still in shadows. There is no sign of the bottles from last night, or any destruction inflicted via heartache. Guan Shan isn’t sure what he expected. Perhaps He Tian had lied to him. No, probably not.

They take the shoes off at the door and He Tian flicks on a ‘Do Not Disturb’ light, which will glow from outside the door. Guan Shan goes into the bathroom before He Tian turns to look at him and locks the door.

Guan Shan stands there in the dark.

After a moment, there is a faint knock on the door.

‘So do you want the light on in there?’ comes He Tian’s voice.

Guan Shan swallows. ‘Yes, please.’

The light flicks on. Guan Shan exhales slowly. ‘Thanks,’ he says.

He can hear He Tian snickering. ‘Don’t mention it,’ he replies. His voice is more distant—he’s wandered further into the room.

Guan Shan stares at his reflection in the mirror and scratches his neck. He runs the tap, brushes his teeth, and scrubs at his fingers until they no longer smell of citrus. When he emerges from the bathroom, He Tian is lying on the bed with his eyes shut, curled on one side.

A sharp, cold breeze comes through the balcony doors.

‘You got another key,’ says Guan Shan.

He Tian breathes deeply through his chest. He doesn’t open his eyes.

‘Housekeeping,’ he says, ‘was kind enough to replace the one I’d lost.’

‘That was kind of them.’

He Tian smiles. Guan Shan considers the soft shape of his mouth and how it loses its edge when his eyes aren’t open, a featureless, almost harmless thing. Eventually Guan Shan crawls on his hands and knees across the bed and comes to lie down at He Tian’s side. His eyes roam the ceiling, stinging slightly. He’s tired enough that he knows when he gets back to Wuhan he will sleep for twelve or thirteen hours, waking only to use the bathroom and drink large glasses of ice-cold water.

He curls on his side and yawns, then shivers.

‘Here,’ says He Tian, tugging on the sheets.

They shuffle awkwardly to get the duvet from beneath them until eventually they’re both shrouded beneath it, lying there in the gauzy light. Guan Shan’s fully clothed and his body warms quickly, his cheeks cool from the air escaping through the thin opening of the balcony doors.

It has started snowing again outside, utterly silent. Guan Shan can hear the rattling of housekeeping trolleys out in the corridors, the hum of the mini fridge, and He Tian’s breathing at his back, starting to deepen. He might already be asleep.

Guan Shan lies there and enjoys the quietness. He indulges in this: going back to bed before 9am while the sky is growing brighter and everyone else is waking up and making the most of their day. He thinks about how safe he feels. If he was on his own, he wouldn’t feel this. The impulsive desire to tell He Tian this is so heavy in his chest that he almost can’t breathe. It bubbles in his throat like a scream.

‘He Tian?’ he whispers.

He counts to ten.

When he glances over his shoulder he can see that He Tian is sleeping, one hand curled out before his face, as if reaching for something.

///

He wakes to the sound of murmured conversation, feeling groggy and disoriented. It is dark in the room now and there’s a sour taste on Guan Shan’s tongue. He’s lost all sense of time. The space beside him in the bed is empty, and he realises he can hear He Tian’s quiet voice along with Jian Yi’s. The wardrobe and bathroom blocks Guan Shan’s view of the door, but a long column of light spills out from the corridor and onto the end of the bed.

‘Neither of you were answering your phone—we thought something had happened.’

‘We’ve just been sleeping.’

‘Together?’ asks Jian Yi reproachfully.

‘Do you think that’s your business?’

‘Depends on what you think of as business.’

He Tian laughs quietly. ‘We’ll be down soon. He’s still asleep.’

‘You can’t miss the boat, He Tian. It’s the best bit.’

‘I know, I know. I’ll wake him up. See you down there.’

The door shuts shortly after and the room falls into darkness again. He Tian’s feet pad softly over to Guan Shan’s side of the bed and Guan Shan jumps when He Tian’s hand falls to his shoulder.

‘Hey,’ He Tian murmurs.

‘I’m so fuckin’ tired,’ Guan Shan mumbles into the pillow.

‘Yeah, me too. C’mon. We won’t be long. Jian Yi said there’s hot milk tea downstairs.’

Guan Shan groans. He aches a bit from his walk yesterday. There’s a throbbing sensation behind his eyes. He drags himself from the bed and pads across the room to close the balcony doors before going into the bathroom. The hot water from the shower turns his cold skin a bright red and a wash of steam pours out into the bedroom when he goes out to get his clothes.

He Tian is standing by the small table beside the armchair, reading through something on his phone. He glances briefly over his shoulder when Guan Shan gathers his clothes. Guan Shan swallows. There is no smile, no lascivious look at Guan Shan’s chest, bare and roughly dried with the towel. He looks back to his phone.

Feeling strange, Guan Shan retreats to the bathroom and dresses quickly while his skin is still damp. He’s ready in five minutes, zipping his insulated jacket and tugging on his boots at the door. He Tian follows him out into the hall. In silence, they go down to the lobby, not looking at each other.

Zhengxi and Jian Yi are waiting for them in the lobby, jostling and boisterous. They ask no questions, depositing hotel-branded flasks into their gloved hands before they pile into the taxi waiting in the port-cochere. Zhengxi takes the front seat, and Jian Yi is wedged between He Tian and Guan Shan in the back, the position snug enough that he is sitting almost in Guan Shan’s lap.

‘So you both just slept all day, huh?’ Jian Yi asks.

Guan Shan nods. ‘Pretty much.’

‘You didn’t go outside? At all?’

He Tian sips his milk tea. ‘That would be correct.’

‘Huh,’ says Jian Yi, chewing on a tapioca ball. ‘Interesting.’

‘Jian Yi,’ says Zhengxi.

‘What? It’s very interesting!’

‘We were tired,’ says Guan Shan. ‘Long night. I didn’t sleep well on your sofa.’

‘You slept well in He Tian’s bed.’

‘Jian Yi—’

‘Our bed. We’re sharin’ a room.’

Jian Yi snorts but says nothing further. Guan Shan glances at He Tian out the corner of his eye, ready to share a humoured glance, but He Tian’s gaze is set on the window, thick with condensation. It’s pitch-black outside and there’s nothing to see. The driver goes slow down the steep slopes towards the village, stone crunching beneath wheels. The radio is on, set quietly to some local channel where the dialect is thick and the music jilting and aged.

Guan Shan looks at the silhouette of the full moon hanging low and orange in the sky.

///

They form a short queue to get onto the boats. Already the lake is dotted with couples set out on the water, wearing reflective yellow vests and lit by the electric lamps set in the middle of the rowboats, which look small and stable enough.

Guan Shan shakes to keep himself warm while they shuffle further to the front, where two women are giving brief instructions to each couple before helping them into the boats and pushing them away with an energetic push of their feet.

‘I told you to dress warm.’

Guan Shan looks beside him. Oh, you’re talking to me now? he wants to ask, feeling snide. Instead he says, ‘If I put more layers on I’d look like the fuckin’ Michelin man.’

The corner of He Tian’s mouth lifts. They take a step forward in the line. Guan Shan cannot escape the feeling that he is stepping towards something monumentally awful—like an execution, or a rejection. Perhaps that’s what Zhengxi told him the night before—to end it in the most tragically romantic way possible.

For the last few minutes until they get on the boat, it’s all Guan Shan can think about. He doesn’t want to get on the boat. He’s going to be sick, vomiting brown, sugary liquid all over the jetty. A few days ago, He Tian might have tried to grab for his hand, or steal an opportunity of closeness. He would be whispering devilish promises about what he might do when they’re in the middle of the lake in the darkness with no one watching.

‘Maybe this was a bad idea,’ Guan Shan says, a half-gasp.

He Tian looks at him.

‘Next up!’

He Tian glances away, then back. ‘This is us. Come on.’

Guan Shan’s limbs feel like lead as he clambers into the boat. One of the women places a hand on his elbow to steady him. He’s given a small disposable lighter and a red collapsible lantern made of wire and thin paper.

He recalls none of what they’ve told him; he’s distantly grateful that the oars are planted firmly into He Tian’s hands. He has only to sit there while they’re pushed out into the water and He Tian guides them further and further away from the jetty. He can see Jian Yi and Zhengxi standing there still, watching them drift out, their faces lit up like ghosts.

Minutes pass. He Tian rows smoothly and efficiently, stronger arms moving them across the water. He takes them further out than anyone else, with enough ease to suggest he could spend the rest of the night rowing and not grow tired. Eventually, he stops.

‘I think I’m gonna be sick,’ Guan Shan mumbles.

The night is serenely quiet. There is distant laughter and conversation from the other boats. He Tian’s looking at him.

In seconds, Guan Shan plans ahead how this is going to go. He’s going to spend the night getting drunk in the hotel lobby until he’s asked to leave, after which point he will find some place to sleep—a bed, a sofa, a bath—and then sleep on the train ride home without opening his eyes to look at anyone once.

His mother will ask him how his weekend was, and he will say that it was fine, and then he’ll go to work the next day. Everything will be fine, and he won’t answer anybody’s texts, and eventually people will grow tired of asking him if everything is okay. They’ll get tired like He Tian is tired of him now.

‘You’re breathing really fast. Hey. Mo Guan Shan, hey.’

‘I wanna go back. Take me back. I wanna get off this boat.’

‘We haven’t lit the lantern yet.’

‘I don’t care about the fuckin’—Please, take me back.’

He Tian leans forward. ‘You’re crying,’ he murmurs. ‘Hey, Guan Shan. What is it? What’s wrong?’

Guan Shan closes his eyes. He can see the moonlight on the back of his eyelids. He feels like he’s falling backwards, a kind of drunkenness. He knows he only has himself to blame. How did he let it get to this? He Tian is doing the right thing, really. Guan Shan has planted the seed himself.

I don’t know why you put up with me.

He thinks briefly of jumping into the water and attempting to swim to the jetty, but the water is cold enough that it will shock him after a short while, and end only in the embarrassing display of He Tian wrenching him back out and taking off his sodden clothes to keep him warm.

He presses his fingertips to his eyelids with painful pressure.

‘Zhengxi told you to break up with me, didn’t he?’ he asks. He barely recognises the sound of his own voice. ‘That’s why you wanted to do this. You could have told me in the room. I wish you’d told me in the fuckin’ room.’

‘Last I checked, we weren’t dating, Guan Shan. I can’t break up with you.’

Guan Shan starts crying harder. Strange hiccuping sounds are coming from his throat that hurt to swallow. He can feel the gentle pressure of He Tian’s hands around his wrists, trying to pull his hands away.

‘No, don’t—’

‘Guan Shan, listen to me. I think we need to have a conversation.’

‘I fucked up,’ Guan Shan whispers. ‘With that girl. With you. I’m fucked up. I don’t know why I can’t let us have this. I just keep thinkin’ that if I let it happen—if people see us—then it’s gonna be real and if it’s real then it’s gonna get taken away from us. I can’t lose it. I can’t.’

He Tian doesn’t reply for a full minute. Then he lets go.

‘I can’t have a secret relationship anymore,’ he says quite plainly. ‘It makes me feel like shit.’

‘I know, I know. Fuck.’

‘I know a thing or two about losing people, Guan Shan. But let me offer you some advice: that’s the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard.’

Guan Shan opens his eyes. ‘He Tian—’

‘If you want to be miserable and alone, be my guest.’ He Tian points to the jetty. ‘Before we get back there, I want an answer.’

‘This is coercion.’

‘This is fairness—to both of us.’

‘I don’t want to do this.’

‘I don’t want to keep chasing you.’ He Tian points a finger at him. ‘I like the chase, it’s part of the fun. Usually because you give in eventually—because that’s what part of you wants. But should I keep trying to make you realise that? No, I don’t think so. That’s not what I want.’

‘You’re saying it won’t be fun if I give in.’

‘Obviously not.’

‘It’s not fuckin’ obvious at all. How do I know you’re not gonna get bored when you’ve got what you want?’

‘Because that chase is all I’ve ever had. What I really want has got nothing to do with it.’

‘Which is?’

‘A New Year’s weekend away with my boyfriend, to be honest. Going walking in a national park. Getting drunk in a bar. Fucking you for a whole day. Sitting on a boat ready to light a lantern.’ He runs a hand through his hair and leans back, the movement harsh enough that the boat rocks beneath them.

He Tian continues: ‘Fuck, knowing that I might get to spend part of the next year with you. Is any of that really so strange? The nicest part of this whole weekend was just getting to sleep next to you without arguing for five minutes. We even argued in the hot spring. What a waste, don’t you think? It could have been different.’

There are so many things Guan Shan thinks he could say. He feels the possibilities stretching out before him like vine leaves crawling across concrete, splintering off into every direction. Soon they’re beyond him, unreachable.

Guan Shan reaches down and picks up the lantern from the bottom of the boat. It takes him a few minutes to untangle the paper without tearing it.

Around them, lights have started to flare up. There are no birds in the sky; the moon beams higher and brighter, to be joined by a handful of lanterns that are now rising up above the lake, and a certain hush has fallen about the place.

Guan Shan feels as if they’re entirely alone; he feels as if he can say anything. When he looks, he sees that He Tian is watching him with an expression that is struggling to stay neutral, as if pockets of fear are creeping in at the corners of his mouth and his eyes.

‘I’m sorry I haven’t been better to you,’ Guan Shan says, unfolding the last of the lantern.

‘I wasn’t as good as I could’ve been to you. Can’t have set a great precedent.’

Guan Shan sniffs. His eyes are still stinging. ‘We were fourteen.’

‘Old enough to know I was hurting you.’

‘Which means I’ve got no excuse.’

He Tian digs out a new pack of cigarettes from his pocket, unwraps the cellophane, then pockets them again.

‘Nice idea,’ says Guan Shan.

‘You know what else might be a nice idea?’ He Tian asks, nodding at the lantern in Gan Shan’s hands.

The disposable doesn’t light when Guan Shan tries it. He Tian pulls out his Zippo and brushes the flame across the small disc at the base of the lantern. It catches, flaring brightly. Strange shadows morph on He Tian’s face. He lifts the lantern over the edge of the boat and motions Guan Shan. Holding an end each, they keep the lantern low to the surface of the water and let the heat build. Guan Shan is aware that he’s holding his breath. A minute or two passes in concentrated silence.

‘Do you feel that?’ He Tian murmurs.

Guan Shan glances at him.

‘It’s tugging,’ He Tian says. ‘Trying to pull away from us.’

‘So, should we let it go?’

‘It’s about time. I think it will burn itself up if we don’t.’

Wordlessly, Guan Shan takes his hands off, and then He Tian follows.

The lantern pulls itself up, an orange will’o the wisp petering away, a lonely ascent towards a frozen skyline. Guan Shan watches it until his eyes and neck strain. It falls in amongst the rest of the lanterns, a floating amber spec, and soon Guan Shan loses sight of it.

‘I can’t see it,’ he says.

‘Hm,’ says He Tian. ‘It didn’t crash, at least.’

‘It’s good luck.’

‘It’s something.’

Guan Shan swallows. ‘Can you give me another chance? To be better?’

‘Better,’ asks He Tian. ‘You keep using that word.’

He pockets the Zippo. Their lantern is forgotten now, and they look at each other. The silence around them is so cold. Some people have already started rowing back to the jetty. It sets off a quiet panic in Guan Shan’s chest like the wail of a siren a few miles away through city streets, steadily getting closer.

‘You were right. About me bein’ afraid and worried about what other people think. I wanna show you I don’t care about it. I feel stupid about it all. I don’t know why it matters.’

He feels stupid saying any of this now. He Tian is the only person with whom he can say it all honestly, like their wildly different circumstances have somehow made them the same sort of person, but he still offers it all up like a cautious smile that he isn’t sure will be shared. He should know better: He Tian gets him.

‘Because other people’s opinions change how the world treats us,’ is what He Tian says. ‘I won’t lie and say they don’t. They shouldn’t—but they do.’

‘They've always worked in your favour,’ Guan Shan points out.

‘Maybe you’re right. I should recognise that more. I’ve got it easier than you in a lot of ways.’

‘You don’t need to say shit like that. I know it’s not sunshine and rainbows for you.’

‘Very astute of you, Mo Guan Shan.’

Guan Shan pulls a face. ‘Huh? I just know you.’

‘Are you in love with me?’

Guan Shan makes a strange, unintelligible sound in the back of his throat. He can’t tell if it’s laughter or fear. The siren has started to grow louder. What kind of question is that? he nearly asks, feeling the words on his tongue. No point in asking it; he knows it will shut this whole thing down. There is nothing that they’ve said that isn’t deeply serious, but they’ve been skirting around the edges, too.

Guan Shan is only surprised that He Tian has taken the initiative to be the direct one. When He Tian asks it, he sounds tired. Guan Shan knows he cannot say no. He knows he cannot say no because that will ruin this, too, and because it isn’t true.

He can’t leave He Tian alone.

When they first met, it was always the other way around, and now He Tian has done something to him—for him—that has made him completely dependent on someone else’s existence. He realises it’s about time he gives up the pretense of acting like he isn’t. Why bother with it anymore? What’s the point of it all? Where’s the fucking harm in accepting that he is and that he wants to be?

The revelation comes at him like the slap of an open palm across his cold cheek.

‘I’ve been so fuckin’ ridiculous.’

It’s all he says.

He Tian’s eyes have started glittering. ‘I think it’s called self-denial, Ah-Shan.’

They spend fifteen more minutes on the boat. By then, most people have rowed back to the jetty, too cold and ill-prepared to sit out on the lake for much longer. Guan Shan knows that someone might see them kissing.

Someone even might hear him say I love you for the second or third time, trying it out just because he can, as if it’s completely ordinary. He imagines what it might sound like to an outsider, or some voyeuristic onlooker, and the thought makes his chest feel warm and full with the possibility. It dampens the fear like a damp rag on a flame.

Imagine it, he thinks. He pictures someone watching them, seeing how they are together, pulled relentlessly closer with an outwardly undeniable force, and how they might want what they have. He imagines their jealousy and likes the strange power it gives him.

///

They check out at 8am the next morning and get the 10am train. Guan Shan sleeps with his head on He Tian’s shoulder, and He Tian can’t take his eyes off their joined hands, resting atop the table. They waver back and forth while the train sways, a clasped unit in motion.

He can feel the pressure of Jian Yi and Zhengx’s glances, unspoken. He knows that other passengers are looking at them as they wander past. Routinely, he catches his own smile in the reflection in the windows.

White landscape falls away; it’s very different now to the bleak rainfall Guan Shan had been watching on their way to Jiangxi, all white, stretched out like cotton wool over every hill and small town as they go towards the city. Everything seems to have changed.

He Tian finds himself breathing in full, deep breaths every now and then. They’re like sighs, but the effort feels sated and content. He’s swallowing down his gratitude in big, even gulps. His shoulders rise and fall. He’s careful with each breath, holding the air in his mouth, his lungs, then letting it go.

Guan Shan sleeps with his head on He Tian’s shoulder, and he doesn’t wake the whole way home.