The night around them didn't change at all.
But something important between the two of them had already begun to shift.
Chen did not move away. He refused to let the heavy silence end their conversation.
"…You're avoiding the question," he said quietly, his voice steady in the darkness.
Jian let out a slow, tired breath.
"…You're asking the wrong one," he replied.
Chen glanced at him for a moment.
"…Then give me the right one."
A long pause stretched between them.
Jian's jaw tightened slightly. For a moment, it looked as if he would not say anything more.
Then —
"…We weren't always like this," he began.
Chen did not interrupt him.
Jian's gaze stayed fixed forward. He was not looking at Chen. He was not looking at the forest either. He seemed to be looking somewhere far in the past.
"…Our houses were close," he continued slowly. "…Only four houses apart."
The words came out measured and careful. It was as if he was deciding on each one before letting it leave his mouth.
"…Our parents knew each other well." "…We basically grew up together."
A faint shift appeared in his voice. It was not softer exactly. But it was less guarded than before.
"…He used to come over without even knocking." "…My mother never minded it."
A small pause followed.
"…We didn't think about anything back then."
Chen listened in complete silence.
"…Then one day…" Jian's voice slowed down even more.
"…My father and his father had a fight."
The air between them suddenly felt heavier.
"…It was not just an ordinary fight," Jian continued. "…It was loud and ugly."
"…Everyone in the neighborhood heard it."
His fingers curled slightly at his sides.
"…They accused my family of many things."
A pause.
"…They said we didn't have any standards.""…They said we weren't educated enough." "…That we didn't belong around people like them."
Chen's expression grew completely still.
Jian's voice dropped lower.
"…And then —"
He stopped for just a second.
"…They said we stole from them."
The words fell heavily into the night.
"…My mother's name was dragged into it." "…Right in front of everyone."
The wind moved through the trees again. But it did nothing to soften the moment.
"…I still remember her face," Jian said quietly. "…She didn't say a single word." "…She just stood there."
A longer pause settled over them.
"…After that, everything changed."
Chen remained silent.
"…I stopped going to their house." "…They stopped coming to ours."
Jian exhaled slowly.
"…And I thought —"
He hesitated for a moment.
"…If his family could say those things about us…" "…then he must not be any different from them."
The words came out quieter than before. But they carried much more weight.
"…I thought he was the same as the rest of his family."
Silence wrapped around them.
For a moment, the night simply held everything that had been said.
Chen finally spoke.
He did not speak immediately. He did not speak sharply.
"…You were wrong," he said.
Jian did not react.
Chen looked directly at him now.
"…I don't know much about his family," he continued. "…And honestly, I don't really care."
A small pause followed.
"…But Wei is not like them."
Jian's gaze shifted slightly toward Chen.
Chen kept speaking, his voice calm but full of weight.
"…I've known him since we were kids." "…I really know him."
His voice stayed steady. But there was clear depth behind his words.
"…He doesn't talk much." "…You already know that."
"…But that doesn't mean he doesn't feel things."
A pause.
"…He feels more deeply than most people do."
Jian's expression tightened slightly.
"…He just doesn't show it on the outside."
The wind moved through the leaves once again.
"…And you don't know everything," Chen added.
Jian finally looked at him properly.
"…About his family."
Chen held his gaze without blinking.
"…You saw one single moment.""…And you decided everything based on that."
A beat passed.
"…But he didn't get to choose any of it."
Jian did not respond.
Chen's voice lowered slightly.
"…That boy has been carrying heavy things since he was a child." "…Things he never talks about with anyone."
A pause.
"…Just because he doesn't say it out loud…" "…doesn't mean it didn't hurt him."
Silence fell again.
Jian's eyes dropped toward the ground for a second.
Chen exhaled quietly.
Then — after a brief pause — he said it clearly.
"…He's loved you for a long time."
The words landed differently this time. They were not sharp. They were not loud. They were simply certain.
Jian didn't move.
Chen didn't look away.
"…And I'm not saying this because I like you," he added.
A faint edge returned to his voice. Just a little.
"…I don't."
A pause.
"…But I know him."
Jian's fingers tightened slightly at his sides.
Chen took one small step closer.
It was not aggressive. It was just clear.
"…And don't start thinking about whether it's right or wrong," he said. "…Whether it's a boy or a girl."
His voice did not rise. But it did not soften either.
"…Love isn't about that." "…It never was."
The words stayed hanging in the cool night air.
"…It's about him."
A pause.
"…And what you decide to do with it."
Silence stretched longer this time.
Jian did not answer.
Because now it was no longer just about the past.
Chen looked at him for one last moment.
"…If you can't take care of him properly…"
His voice remained steady.
"…Then don't come near him again."
A beat passed.
"…Because next time —"
He stopped without finishing the sentence. He didn't need to.
The meaning was clear anyway.
Then — something shifted slightly. Unexpectedly.
Chen exhaled.
"…Anyway."
The sharp edge in his voice faded just a little.
"…I haven't said any of this before."
He extended his hand toward Jian.
"…From today…"
A small pause.
"…Let's stop this."
Jian looked at him.
"…Not enemies anymore."
Another pause.
"…Chen Luoyang."
A faint, almost dry tone returned to Chen's voice.
"…Only son of a multinational company director."
Then — he tilted his head slightly.
"…Nice to meet you, Mr. Shen Jian."
Silence returned.
The night held them both once again.
Jian looked down at Chen's outstretched hand. He didn't take it immediately. But he didn't refuse it either.
Something had changed between them.
It was not fully resolved. It was not completely fixed.
But — for the first time — it had been opened.