Wei Changchuan looked at Min Shu, remaining silent for a long time. As he gazed into the young man’s clear eyes, tinged with a hint of longing, he slowly narrowed his own. His features were already deeply chiseled, but as he narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brow, the space between his eyebrows grew even narrower.

The threat was plain to see.

A chill ran through Min Shu’s heart, and he immediately tucked the passport away:

“I’ll take good care of it.” Min Shu became completely docile, lifting his head to give Wei Changchuan a flattering smile and adding, “Thanks, bro.”

Because the orphanage couldn’t afford to pay for his orthodontic treatment, Min Shu has a few crooked teeth, and when he smiles, a sharp canine tooth presses against his lower lip.

Those who liked him found his smile sweet.

Wei Changchuan’s expression gradually softened as he watched the young man jog out to put his passport away, then jog back, rub his hands together, and look at him with those pleading eyes again.

“Bro—” Min Shu said, “Can I ask you a question?”

Wei Changchuan lowered his eyes. “Go ahead.”

Min Shu asked, “What year is it now?”

The moment the words left his mouth, before Wei Changchuan could say anything, Min Shu felt a pang of embarrassment. He felt like a caveman and explained:

“Don’t mind me. It’s a bit remote here—no internet, not even a TV signal. For the past few years, I’ve been keeping track of the days with a wall calendar. Lately, everyone’s left town, the stores have closed, and I can’t even buy a new one, so I just haven’t bothered…”

Wei Changchuan looked at him, his eyes holding an indescribable expression. After a long moment, he named a year.

Hearing this, Min Shu froze for a moment, quickly did the math, and then sighed, “That means I’m already 27.”

Thank goodness, thank goodness—not yet 30. Min Shu first let out a sigh of relief, then thought to himself: He probably won’t be able to graduate. After all this time, the school might have revoked his student status long ago.

Thinking this, Min Shu felt a twinge of regret. As an orphan, he didn’t have many deep ties to bind him. But after all, he had earned his way into this university through years of hard study and painstaking effort. It seemed a pity that all that hard work had yielded no results, so he couldn’t help but ask:

“Bro, when you go back to the mainland, can you take me with you? The port on the island has been closed for years, and they won’t let planes fly either.” Min Shu looked at Wei Changchuan with hopeful eyes: “I haven’t graduated from college yet.”

Min Shu felt like he was going crazy on the island; he was so bored that he could even make friends with the seals. Forget submarines—he could swim back there himself right now.

Wei Changchuan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stared at him in silence for a moment. Min Shu thought he was about to say something, but after a while, the man simply turned his head away: “It depends.”

Hearing this, Min Shu felt a pang of disappointment. He let out a small “Oh,” knowing that the man’s response was essentially a polite refusal.

Min Shu felt a little disappointed, but at the same time, he knew the man was just a complete stranger, and he had no obligation to help him. Besides, he was an illegal immigrant staying here on an expired visa—it would be too much trouble for the man. Min Shu quickly composed himself and looked up, saying:

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I was too impatient to make such an unreasonable request of you. Don’t take it to heart—I’ve just been stuck in this godforsaken place for too long.”

Hearing this, Wei Changchuan turned his head to look at him.

The young man’s gaze was sincere; he was genuinely apologizing to him once more.

Wei Changchuan had seen many kinds of looks—looks of pain, sorrow, greed, and desperation—but the gaze directed at him was filled with deep hope and longing. Everyone looked at him as if they were terminally ill, hoping he could save them. If he couldn’t, those eyes would quickly turn to despair, followed by frenzied curses—

The apocalypse had mercilessly torn human civilization apart; all notions of propriety, righteousness, integrity, and shame had vanished.

It had been a very, very long time since anyone had spoken to him with the same respect one would show an ordinary person.

Yet, through osmosis, Wei Changchuan had grown accustomed to playing the role of a savior, so hearing Min Shu apologize to him made him feel deeply uneasy.

Min Shu didn’t notice the man’s furrowed brow; he had already managed to calm himself down.

He glanced at the wind and snow outside the window, then turned back to the man and said, “This snow isn’t going to stop anytime soon. Just stay here and rest easy; you can leave once it clears up.”

Wei Changchuan, who had just been thinking about offering to pay for a place to stay, fell silent.

“…Thank you.”  Wei Changchuan said, “I’ll pay for it.”

With that, he lowered his head and reached into his pants pocket, only to feel a thin layer of fabric. Wei Changchuan paused.

In the apocalypse, currency no longer circulated as it did in normal times. Moreover, for someone of his rank, all daily necessities were provided directly by the base, so he rarely needed money.

When the submarine surfaced early due to an underwater current, he’d been in such a rush that he’d forgotten to bring his wallet. 

Wei Changchuan: …

On the other side, Min Shu sensed his embarrassment and immediately said, “You don’t have to pay me. There’s no one else here anyway, and I was just worried about having no one to keep me company.”

Wei Changchuan paused for a moment before lowering his hand and turning to look at Min Shu. Min Shu gazed at his face and silently added to herself, Having such a handsome guy right here in front of me—it’s a treat for the eyes just looking at him every day.

He gave a chuckle and said to Wei Changchuan, “Bro, your clothes are covered in snow. Why don’t you take them off and let me wash them for you?” He looked like such a wimp—if his roommates saw him like this, they’d definitely call him a total sucker for good looks.

Wei Changchuan didn’t move, however. Instead, he looked around and asked, “Is there a washing machine here?”

Min Shu replied, “Yes.”

Wei Changchuan turned back. “Where?”

Min Shu paused for a moment, then said, “…In the basement, but—”

Before he could finish, Wei Changchuan had already turned around—it was strange. Even though it was his first time here, he seemed to know the layout of the house, precisely locating the staircase leading to the basement and pulling open the hidden door in the floor.

“Wait!” Min Shu hurried after him. “There’s no heating down there—”

The basement wasn’t heated; it was as cold as an ice cellar, which was why Min Shu always bundled up whenever he went down to do laundry. Wei Changchuan pulled open the trapdoor and felt a blast of cold air hit him. He paused for a moment, then said without turning back, “Don’t come down.”

Then he walked down the stairs. Hearing his words, Min Shu stood frozen in place, peering curiously down at the stairwell.

He didn’t hear the sound of the washing machine. The model in his house was very old; once turned on, it made a rumbling noise that could be heard all the way down to the first floor.

Oh no, maybe he doesn’t know how to use it?

Min Shu looked down at the stairwell with some concern.

The next moment, he saw Wei Changchuan coming up from the basement.

Min Shu’s eyes widened instantly, his gaze landing on Wei Changchuan’s body.

Wei Changchuan had taken off all his clothes; his upper body was clad only in a white tank top. The thin fabric, damp with sweat, had become slightly transparent, clinging tightly to his physique.

It was a well-toned physique, radiating pure masculine beauty.

Unlike the lean, muscular guys that girls typically find attractive—the kind who “look slim in clothes but have a muscular build when undressed”—Wei Changchuan’s muscles were very pronounced. He had already looked tall and imposing in his military uniform, but without it, his physique seemed even larger and exuded an overwhelming presence.

A cold draft blew in from the basement, sending a shiver down Min Shu’s spine and snapping him back to his senses. He quickly stepped aside to let Wei Changchuan pass. However, Wei Changchuan stopped right in front of him:

“I forgot to ask earlier,” he said. “Do you have any laundry?”

Min Shu paused, then replied, “…Ah, yes.”

Wei Changchuan said, “Bring them over so I can wash them too.”

Min Shu: “Oh… oh.” He instinctively obeyed the man’s words and ran to drag the laundry basket from the bedroom over with a huff and a puff—inside were the sealskin pants he’d worn last time, a felt hat, and the dirty jacket he’d worn before, a huge pile of heavy clothes stacked like a small mountain.

Since the basement was so cold, Min Shu only ever brought his laundry down when he’d run out of clean clothes to change into. Fortunately, he had plenty of clothes, so even if he didn’t wash them often, he still had clean ones to wear.

Wei Changchuan took the laundry basket, hoisted it with one hand, and headed back down to the basement.

A moment later, the loud hum of the washing machine filled the basement. The machine was very old; when it was running, especially during the spin cycle, it sounded as if it were about to fall apart.

He actually knows how to use it.

Min Shu was a little surprised, because Wei Changchuan had the kind of face that suggested he couldn’t do a thing. But then again, he’d washed the bowls quite skillfully just now, Min Shu thought.

When Wei Changchuan came up from the basement, Min Shu instinctively stepped aside, looking up as he passed by her. The man’s chiseled jawline and bulging arm muscles flashed past him at close range.

Min Shu noticed a pale scar on his arm, running diagonally across his slightly tanned skin. It wasn’t frightening; on the contrary, it was incredibly sexy.

Min Shu：……

He was about to get a nosebleed.

At the same time, Min Shu remembered something.

Having been stuck on this godforsaken island for so long, he’d almost forgotten he was gay. He should’ve offered to pay in kind the moment Wei Changchuan said he was broke. Min Shu thought.

But he only dared to think it; he had the desire but not the guts, and Wei Changchuan was clearly a tough, straight guy—the kind who could punch him all the way to another planet.

Min Shu followed Wei Changchuan somewhat grudgingly, wanting to compliment the man’s physique but feeling a bit too timid to do so. Yet, as he watched Wei Changchuan’s back undulate with each step, he couldn’t help but exclaim: “Man, you’ve got an amazing physique!”

Wei Changchuan didn’t stop walking; he just glanced back at him.

Seeing that he wasn’t angry, Min Shu continued, “You really are amazing—even better than those models.” Once he started, he couldn’t stop himself; he leaned in and said, “Your physique is like a sculpture—you’re practically a David! You’re Zeus, a god descended from heaven—”

Wei Changchuan stopped in his tracks, furrowed his brow, and turned to look at him.

Min Shu immediately clamped his mouth shut and, under the man’s gaze, raised his hand to make a zipping motion. Only then did Wei Changchuan look away and ask, “Is there a place to take a shower?”

By the time the two had finished washing up, it was late at night.

Min Shu found a clean T-shirt and handed it to Wei Changchuan, saying, “If you don’t mind, you can sleep in this tonight.”

Wei Changchuan took the shirt, said “Thanks,” and, without hesitation, slipped off his tank top and pulled on Min Shu’s shirt. 

Caught off guard by the sight of the man’s naked body, Min Shu: …

Could he really sleep in the same bed with this person?

Wei Changchuan finished getting dressed and saw the young man in front of him with his head down, covering his nose.

“What’s wrong?”

Min Shu stiffened, unable to meet the man’s gaze: “…N-nothing.” He turned his head stiffly and began tidying the blankets, pretending to be busy: “The bed’s a bit small; it might be a little cramped for two people—”

Wei Changchuan gave him a puzzled look, then withdrew his gaze and examined the bed: “There’s enough room.” This bed was much larger than the ones at the base.

Min Shu nodded, climbed into bed first, and squeezed himself into the far corner against the wall, making room for Wei Changchuan. Wei Changchuan followed him onto the bed and casually turned off the small bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness.

Lying in the darkness, facing the wall, Min Shu felt a dip in the mattress beside him. He dared not move or make a sound, just staring at the white wall with reddened ears.

After a while, the sound of steady breathing reached his ears. Wei Changchuan seemed to have fallen asleep.

He must be exhausted from today, Min Shu thought. Now that the man was asleep, he actually felt a sense of relief; otherwise, having to lie in bed with a straight guy—as someone who was gay—he wouldn’t have known what to say.

The wind and snow outside hadn’t stopped, so there were no stars in the sky tonight. The bedroom was pitch black, and he could faintly hear the howling wind outside. Unable to fall asleep right away, Min Shu decided to go over the events of the day in his mind.

Wei Changchuan’s arrival had put his mind at ease.

No one who had left the town earlier had returned, which had worried Min Shu greatly; he’d assumed something must have happened out there. Now that he saw there were still people around, Min Shu felt a slight sense of relief.

However, when Wei Changchuan mentioned that the embassy had been closed for quite some time, Min Shu grew concerned again.

Could there have been some kind of diplomatic incident? If so, it would explain why he hadn’t received a response to the letter he’d sent to the embassy earlier. And the closure of the port and airport—could that be due to the same reason as well?

Min Shu pondered this with a heavy heart for a moment, letting out a small sigh. He had no idea when he would be able to leave. Could it be that he wouldn’t be able to go home until he died, who knows when?

When he first arrived on the island, Min Shu had genuinely felt that dying there wouldn’t matter.

But after all these years spent alone on this remote island, Wei Changchuan’s sudden arrival made Min Shu realize that before he died, he at least wanted to see the aunt who had taken care of him one last time—and perhaps even meet his roommates.

Perhaps this is what they call “returning to one’s roots,” Min Shu thought. Just then, a sudden noise interrupted his train of thought.

The bed creaked softly, as if someone had rolled over, and then the mattress beside him sank slightly—followed by a wave of heat pressing against his back.

In the darkness, Min Shu’s eyes widened. His breath caught, and he slowly lowered his gaze, seeing an arm wrapped around his waist in the gloom.