Chapter 63: Traverse (4)
63 – Traverse (4)
A kiss that hovered between presence and absence, merely a light press against the corner of his lips, then lingering.
Time seemed to stand still—or perhaps it was only a very brief moment—before Dong Jun released him.
He opened his eyes and saw Dong Jun’s gaze.
Dark pupils stirred with some emotion, a faint yet palpable sense of pressure, yet also gentle.
Dong Jun’s voice carried a hint of hoarseness as he asked, “Still afraid?”
Lin Xun looked toward the spokes of the Ferris wheel.
The glass Ferris wheel continued its slow ascent, nearing its peak.
The wind at this height grew stronger; he couldn’t tell whether it was the cabin swaying or himself trembling.
He whispered, “Afraid…”
Dong Jun held him tighter, his arms firmly encircling his shoulders and back. With nowhere to escape, Lin Xun could only close his eyes.
A familiar aura enveloped him.
This time, Dong Jun kissed him deeply.
The entire world fell silent. In that moment, Lin Xun forgot the height, forgot the Ferris wheel—the world seemed to consist only of himself and the person holding him so tightly.
But he… was utterly unprepared.
He hadn’t expected this to happen, nor did he know how to kiss someone else.
Almost forgetting to breathe, he tentatively responded with a slight suck, only to have the initiative completely taken from him. He tumbled into an endless whirl of disorientation, as if it would never stop.
When he was finally released, he saw Dong Jun’s eyes again.
In that moment, his heart pounded violently, and an indescribable tenderness surged within him—as if he had liked this person for many, many years.
Perhaps it was true.
When a tech fan spends years immersed in a fangirl group, even joining in to call him “husband” just to fit in, perhaps his feelings would inevitably change.
He lowered his gaze, his fingers still clutching the hem of Dong Jun’s clothes.
Dong Jun’s voice was slightly hoarse: “We’re back on the ground.”
When they stepped off the Ferris wheel, his legs were weak, almost unable to support him. Only by holding Dong Jun’s hand did he steady himself.
By then, the sunset had sunk below the horizon. In the twilight, the sky blended shades of blue and purple, with a few stars twinkling in the north.
He took several deep breaths, recovering from the lack of oxygen, but his mind remained sluggish, afraid to recall what had just happened.
A red-nosed clown wobbled over and stuffed a red rabbit-shaped balloon into Lin Xun’s hand. He thanked him and glanced around.
Someone near the Ferris wheel seemed to be watching them.
Lin Xun’s hand was still held by Dong Jun, so he turned to him and asked, “Are you going to end up trending again?”
Dong Jun looked back at him. “If you don’t like it… then I won’t.”
Lin Xun tugged at the balloon. “Is this the power of a capitalist?”
Dong Jun smiled but said nothing more.
It was dinnertime, and they chose a lakeside restaurant in the amusement park.
The interior decor matched the park’s overall fairytale theme, with a light, sweet melody playing on loop, like a story for children.
Lin Xun sat across from Dong Jun.
Resting his chin in his hand, he looked at Dong Jun, unsure what to say.
Dong Jun watched him, also silent.
After a while, Dong Jun smiled first.
When he smiled, the corners of his lips curved slightly, and his eyes softened into a gentle arc. The lights across the table reflected in his gaze like tender stars. His sharp features suddenly came alive, as if ice and snow had melted away.
Seeing his smile, Lin Xun couldn’t help but smile too, lowering his head.
He said, “I don’t know… what to say. It all feels very unreal to me.”
Dong Jun asked, “What part feels unreal?”
Lin Xun replied, “You, as a whole, feel unreal.”
Dong Jun raised an eyebrow.
“After all, you’re perfect in every way. You’re the boss of Galaxy, while I’m just an ordinary programmer, and I don’t even know if my project will succeed.”
“You should have more confidence,” Dong Jun said. “You excel in every aspect, like creating Goddess of the Luo River.”
“Only you think Goddess of the Luo River is fun,” Lin Xun muttered, stirring the milk in his cup. “And you created autonomous driving.”
Dong Jun replied, “Yesterday, you proposed a new direction for improving autonomous driving at the discussion meeting.”
This guy was determined to argue with him.
There was no way he could win against Dong Jun—Lin Xun’s ability to praise his idol was unmatched across the entire internet.
Lin Xun said, “It was just a lucky coincidence. I like that field of mathematics, but you proposed the entire framework.”
Dong Jun remained silent.
Lin Xun met his gaze—being stared at so intently made him a little flustered.
After a brief silence, he heard Dong Jun say, “I think you’re somewhat afraid of me.”
“I don’t know either,” Lin Xun looked at him. “I really do… seem a little afraid of you.”
He couldn’t quite articulate what this feeling was.
Dong Jun wasn’t going to eat him, and he wasn’t someone who lacked confidence or was overly timid.
He wasn’t unfamiliar with dealing with important people—his grandfather was an engineer who had studied abroad in his time, and among the guests at home were figures who appeared in textbooks. In university, his mentor was also a renowned expert in the industry, and he had been dragged along by his mentor to help out at top-tier academic conferences. This industry was filled with shining stars, with no shortage of geniuses or giants, and he had met plenty of both. While he felt respect and admiration, he had never been nervous or fearful, nor had he ever felt inferior. Verbal humility was enough—he wasn’t someone who lacked confidence.
Except when it came to Dong Jun.
It was precisely Dong Jun that he couldn’t interact with naturally.
“Maybe it’s because I’ve always admired you,” he said. “I always feel that no matter what I achieve, it can’t compare to Dong Jun.”
Dong Jun replied, “I actually think you’re amazing, well… I can’t compare to you.”
“You’re lying to me again,” Lin Xun said.
He looked at Dong Jun and blinked. “So, if you think someone is amazing, you want to be with them? You seem quite experienced.”
A hint of amusement flickered in Dong Jun’s eyes. “Do you know… you look really cute right now?”
Lin Xun: “…”
What did he look like?
Chattering endlessly?
Testing the waters?
“I’m not cute…” he said, “and we’ve only known each other for a little over ten days. To be honest, I don’t even really know what kind of person Dong Jun is.”
“You sometimes feel unfamiliar to me too,” Dong Jun said, “but I don’t want to wait anymore.”
Lin Xun thought he understood what Dong Jun meant.
They weren’t kids anymore.
Minors had endless time and energy to play games of mutual crushes and testing the waters, but they didn’t.
Dong Jun was the boss of Galaxy, and of course, he was busy. Lin Xun also had his own Goddess of the Luo River to work on—their lives had no overlap.
So, like all adults, if you meet someone interesting, you tacitly go on a date or two, and then things just start. If you’re not happy, you go your separate ways.
He: “I’m just a little surprised.”
Dong Jun: “You don’t seem very happy.”
Lin Xun shook his head.
Dong Jun narrowed his eyes slightly: “Really not?”
Lin Xun: “No.”
Actually, he had been in a state of racing heartbeat all along, just aimlessly saying some illogical things to try his best to maintain a semblance of calm on the surface.
But he wouldn’t tell Dong Jun.
If it were Dong Jun, how could he… not be happy.
He said softly: “I’m just… overwhelmed.”
“Then can I take it as your agreement?” Dong Jun looked at him.
Lin Xun didn’t dare look at him, his gaze fixed on the rim of the glass, his voice gradually growing softer: “I think so.”
Dong Jun: “Look up.”
Lin Xun looked up silently at him.
“That, don’t you think…” Lin Xun said: “Our conversation is really awkward?”
Dong Jun said: “Because you should be by my side, not across from me.”
Lin Xun felt Dong Jun was criticizing him.
Fine.
Then he would correct his mistake.
He stood up, walked around the table, and came to Dong Jun’s side. Before he could fully sit down, he was pulled into Dong Jun’s embrace.
He looked up, meeting Dong Jun’s gaze.
This person’s eyelashes were slightly lowered, looking at him.
In his gentle and elegant expression, there seemed to be many other things as well.
Lin Xun thought, you say I’m not happy, but I think you don’t look very happy either.
Just as he was silently complaining, Dong Jun lowered his head and gently kissed his temple.
“Thank you,” he heard Dong Jun’s voice, “I also feel… overwhelmed.”
“You can’t be overwhelmed,” Lin Xun said: “There are so many people who like you.”
“Then you can’t be jealous,” Dong Jun’s low and gentle voice sounded right by his ear, “I only like Lin Xun.”
Lin Xun truly couldn’t handle it anymore.
Maintaining the position of being held by Dong Jun, he buried his face in his shoulder, waiting until he felt the heat on his body had finally subsided a bit before daring to lift his head again.
As soon as he looked up, Dong Jun kissed the corner of his eye again.
Fortunately, Dong Jun slowly released him.
But he took his hand, fingers interlocked.
Lin Xun looked at their interlocked fingers, remembering today’s church maze, which was pitch black at first, forcing them to hold hands—at least back then, Dong Jun hadn’t discovered the light button on the wand.
He looked up at the gentle expression in Dong Jun’s eyes.
Liar.
And what could he do about it?
Nothing, he even reached out to straighten Dong Jun’s collar, which had become slightly messy from the earlier movements.
—This is how pathetic a die-hard fan can be.
The sky had completely darkened, and fireworks began to go off across the lake.
They were quite beautiful, but Lin Xun glanced at them perfunctorily and started thinking about playing with his phone.
There wasn’t much to do on the phone either.
A hand pulled him over.
He leaned against Dong Jun’s shoulder and turned to look at him.
Lin Xun: “I still feel like I’m dreaming.”
Dong Jun: “You can dream forever.”
Lin Xun smiled at him: “That sounds pretty good too.”
He: “So tomorrow, will you still like me?”
Dong Jun: “And the day after too.”
Lin Xun: “Then I’ll like you too.”
Dong Jun smiled faintly.
“Actually,” Dong Jun said, “I want to take you home tonight.”
“Then…” Lin Xun hesitated for a moment: “My roommate might beat me to death.”
Dong Jun fed him a piece of fruit with a fork: “That’s why I’m taking you home.”
Lin Xun swallowed the fruit.
Dong Jun looked at him: “Slow down.”
Lin Xun: “You seem to take care of people often.”
The next piece of fruit was brought to his lips, and he instinctively took it into his mouth.
The next moment, he was hit with a sharp sourness.
Lin Xun: “!!”
This was a slice of lemon.
He turned stiffly to look at Dong Jun.
Dong Jun blinked, his eyes holding a faint smile yet also seeming innocent, as if he had done nothing at all—in that moment, his expression actually resembled that of the deceitful Zhi Zhen.
Lin Xun kept a straight face, slowly, slowly biting into this slice of lemon personally fed to him by his idol.
It was all fake.