The photographer showed them the picture afterward.
Xu Chen regretted looking immediately.
Because somehow the woman had captured exactly what he was trying—and failing—to hide from the world.
Not the bracelet.
Not the proximity.
The looking.
Aum stood beside him beneath drifting festival ribbons and warm afternoon sunlight, dark jacket open slightly against the charcoal-grey sweater beneath while the crowded square blurred softly behind them in motion and color.
But the problem was Xu Chen himself.
He was looking at Aum.
Not casually.
Not accidentally.
Openly.
The kind of gaze people only developed after emotional collapse became irreversible.
God.
Xu Chen physically looked away from the screen.
"That's deeply hostile photography."
The woman laughed warmly.
"It's a really good picture."
Aum continued studying the image carefully.
Then quietly:
"The emotional dynamic appears visually obvious."
Xu Chen covered his eyes briefly with one hand.
"Fantastic. Great. Excellent."
Warm amusement softened Aum's expression again.
The photographer smiled between them knowingly before lowering the camera.
"You two are adorable," she said casually. "Enjoy Sanyuejie."
Then she disappeared back into the moving festival crowds before Xu Chen's soul could fully leave his body.
The square continued pulsing around them afterward.
Drums echoed beneath hanging lanterns while flower petals drifted intermittently through the spring wind. Somewhere near the eastern side of the square, dancers in silver headdresses moved in synchronized circles while tourists crowded around food stalls releasing waves of charcoal smoke and spice into the air.
But Xu Chen barely processed any of it.
Because Aum was still looking at the photo on the camera screen.
Studying it.
Dangerous.
Xu Chen lowered his hand slowly.
"You can stop analyzing my emotional destruction anytime now."
Aum glanced toward him.
"You dislike the image."
"That is again the opposite of the problem."
A faint pause.
"You dislike that the image is accurate."
The precision hit directly through Xu Chen's chest.
God.
He genuinely needed this man to stop understanding him so thoroughly in public spaces.
Aum handed the camera back toward the retreating photographer eventually before turning fully toward Xu Chen again.
The crowds moved continuously around them now, brushing shoulders and fabric as people crossed through the packed festival square beneath strings of red lanterns overhead.
Xu Chen suddenly became aware again of how close they were standing.
Not hidden anymore.
Not subtle.
Natural.
The realization settled quietly through him.
Then—
a group of university-aged tourists passed beside them.
One of the girls slowed visibly after noticing Aum.
She looked back once.
Then twice.
And finally whispered something quickly to her friend while still staring openly.
Xu Chen felt something sharp tighten low in his chest.
Immediate.
Instinctive.
Aum noticed instantly.
"You reacted negatively again."
Xu Chen looked straight ahead.
"I did not."
"You accelerated walking preparation behavior."
"That phrase is psychologically criminal."
Warm amusement flickered through Aum's face again.
Then, unexpectedly:
"You dislike strangers looking at me with interest."
The directness nearly killed Xu Chen instantly.
Because apparently Aum had now identified jealousy structurally and decided to study it in real time.
Xu Chen exhaled quietly through his nose.
"This conversation is not happening in the middle of Sanyuejie."
A faint pause.
"So it is jealousy."
God.
Xu Chen turned toward him helplessly while crowds flowed around them continuously beneath the festival banners.
"You really are adapting frighteningly fast."
"I am attempting emotional understanding."
"That's exactly why this became dangerous."
Warm laughter escaped Aum softly again.
And suddenly Xu Chen realized something terrifying:
Aum looked happy.
Not observationally interested.
Not academically curious.
Happy.
Because Xu Chen wanted him enough to feel possessive.
The understanding hit directly through Xu Chen's chest.
Aum stepped slightly closer through the moving crowd afterward, enough that their shoulders brushed naturally once more.
Then quietly:
"I do not dislike the reaction."
Xu Chen stopped functioning.
Completely.
Festival drums thundered somewhere behind them while flower petals drifted across the square in sudden spring wind.
And somehow Xu Chen still heard that sentence clearly over everything else.
I do not dislike the reaction.
God.
Xu Chen looked away toward the food stalls immediately because survival instincts demanded evacuation from eye contact.
"That is an absolutely insane thing to admit calmly."
Aum appeared thoughtful.
"Why."
"Because normal people usually pretend emotional territoriality doesn't flatter them."
A faint pause.
"But humans enjoy feeling wanted."
The accuracy hit instantly.
Xu Chen laughed weakly under his breath.
"You know what's terrifying?"
Aum looked at him immediately.
"What."
"You're becoming emotionally confident."
The silence afterward softened strangely.
Aum processed the statement carefully while crowds shifted around them in waves of movement and festival noise.
Then, very quietly:
"I think your feelings stopped feeling uncertain to me."
The sentence entered Xu Chen softly.
And stayed there.
Because there it was again.
Not arrogance.
Not assumption.
Trust.
Aum trusted being loved now.
Xu Chen suddenly understood that the biggest change overnight wasn't the confession itself.
It was this:
Aum no longer looked afraid whenever Xu Chen cared for him openly.
The realization hurt gently.
Xu Chen touched the hidden bracelet beneath his sleeve unconsciously again.
Aum noticed immediately.
"You touched it again."
Xu Chen sighed quietly.
"Yes. Thank you. I'm aware."
A faint softness touched Aum's expression.
Then, before Xu Chen could recover emotionally—
Aum reached out through the moving crowd and adjusted Xu Chen's jacket collar carefully where it had folded inward.
Tiny gesture.
Catastrophic emotional impact.
The contact lasted barely seconds.
But the intimacy of it in public—
the casualness—
the complete natural instinct behind it—
destroyed Xu Chen instantly.
A nearby elderly Bai woman carrying flower baskets smiled warmly while passing them.
"Young love during Sanyuejie always looks beautiful," she said gently before continuing into the crowd.
Xu Chen physically wanted to evaporate into the atmosphere.
Aum, however, looked toward the woman thoughtfully.
Then back toward Xu Chen.
"She appears emotionally accurate as well."
Xu Chen laughed helplessly into the noise and color of the festival square because honestly—
the terrifying thing now was not that people noticed.
It was how little he wanted to deny it anymore.