Ethan Young saw the bruise at the corner of his mouth and was about to say, "Still fighting," when Henry Howard reached out and pulled him into his arms.

"Don't move," Henry Howard pressed his forehead against the crook of Ethan Young's neck and said softly, "I'm not smoking, just want to hold you for a while."

The street was empty and desolate, the alcohol in his system mostly blown away by the cold wind. The kid was wearing a down jacket, loose and thick, soft to the touch when hugged, completely at odds with the impatient look on his face.

Two rows of streetlights stretched all the way to the horizon, like scattered starlight, blending into the night.

After holding him for a while, Henry Howard finally asked, "Why did you come?"

Ethan Young: "Came to collect my boyfriend's corpse."

Henry Howard sobered up, and his bragging was smooth: "With your boyfriend's drinking capacity, even ten more bottles would be no problem."

"Don't go looking for a beating."

Henry Howard joked a bit more, then fell silent, closed his eyes, and only now truly felt—it was over.

It was all over.

Is this considered relief? Henry Howard thought about it and felt it didn't quite count.

But he gradually began to understand why Old 贺 didn't stop him back then, just let him be, watched him flounder in place, even using the most extreme methods to solve problems.

Being pulled up by someone and standing up on your own are two different things.

"Going back?" The temperature at night was too low, and if they stood any longer, they'd probably catch a cold the next day. Henry Howard let go and said, "It's hard to get a cab here, we have to go to the intersection ahead."

Ethan Young hesitated for two seconds.

When he left, Ms. Miller was already asleep, so he hadn't said anything to her. Now if he went back, it would be almost dawn by the time he got home, which would be even harder to explain.

Henry Howard turned his head to glance at him: "Then come to my place?"

There was no one at Henry Howard's home.

Old 贺 had just left a few days ago, shuttling between several countries, and had only come back to rest for less than half a week. When he saw his final grades, he didn't say anything, just tossed the report on the table and played a game of chess with him.

"No matter which path you choose, how you walk it," as he placed the last piece, Old 贺 said in a deep voice, "I believe in you."

Ethan Young slept for a while in the car, and was only woken up by Henry Howard when they were about to get out.

Henry Howard got out to pay, then walked around to the back seat, bracing his hand on the door, reluctant to wake him. In the end, he bent down and kissed the corner of his mouth, calling softly, "We're here."

Henry Howard's home was very tidy, the kind of clean that lacked any sense of daily life. Aside from the housekeeper who came once a week to clean, there was basically no one coming or going.

Ethan Young sat on the sofa, eyes half-closed, watching Henry Howard tidy up the guest room. After waiting a while, his patience ran out; he didn't even bother with slippers, walked barefoot across the floor, and asked, "Which one is your room?"

""

Henry Howard had drunk quite a bit and was still afraid he couldn't control himself, but didn't expect this kid in front of him to be so bold: "Aren't you afraid I'll do something to you tonight?"

Ethan Young leaned against the door, showing no awareness of being a guest: "I mean, you, sleep in the guest room."

Ethan Young said for him to sleep in the guest room, but seeing it was almost 2 a.m., he didn't make Henry Howard spend more time tidying up.

At this hour, there was no energy to think about anything else.

Henry Howard took a quick shower, and when he opened the bathroom door, Ethan Young was already asleep, eyes closed, hair covering half his face, breathing shallow.

The kid was lying on his bed, all his hostility gone, looking especially well-behaved.

Henry Howard forced himself to look away, thinking the shower just now was probably for nothing.

Ethan Young was a light sleeper. The moment the sound of running water from the bathroom stopped, he moved his fingers, subconsciously feeling like he'd forgotten to do something.

He hadn't texted Ms. Miller to let her know he was safe.

But then he thought, in the middle of the night, everyone at Cooper Family was probably already asleep, so no one would notice.

Ethan Young had indeed left quietly, but in his rush, he happened to be seen by Annie, who got up at night for water.

He had just left when a few servants gathered together. Annie hadn't seen clearly who it was and thought it was Jack Cooper making a fuss again in the middle of the night: "Is it the eldest young master?"

"No way, the eldest didn't come home today. Must be the second young master. Geez, it's so late and he's still going out—"

There were always things going on at Cooper Family, and Ethan Young going out in the middle of the night was unprecedented. The servants were guessing if there had been a fight: "They were fine at dinner, did they argue again?"

"Madam has been wanting to hire a tutor for the second young master, but he doesn't want one."

"The second young master's grades this time—"

A few small lamps were on in the Cooper Family hall, and the redwood cabinets were filled with antiques from all over.

The servants were whispering, about to go back to their rooms, when they were startled by Grace Miller, who had appeared without them noticing.

Grace Miller had a coat draped over her shoulders, looking a bit tired. She stood at the top of the stairs, tugged at her slipping coat, and asked, "What's going on?"

Grace Miller hadn't been sleeping well these days. After hearing the story, her headache worsened. She raised her hand to rub her temples, took a moment to process, then said, "Alright, you all go rest."

Over the years, Ethan Young had done plenty to worry her. Even though he had his own ideas about many things, he still considered her feelings when he spoke or acted. No matter how impatient he was with her questions, he would always let her know before going out.

This kind of unintentional, almost unbelievable gentleness often made her feel as if the one standing before her was still the little Ethan Young who used to cling to her as a child.

After returning to her room, Grace Miller couldn't sleep at all, her mind running wild. Suppressing her anger, she called Ethan Young several times, but no one answered.

The fire in her chest was doused by the repeated "The number you have dialed is temporarily unavailable."

"What is it," half-awake, Gregory Cooper noticed the empty space beside him, opened his eyes to see Grace Miller sitting on the edge of the bed in thin clothes, staring at her phone, "It's late, why aren't you sleeping?"

Grace Miller lay in bed for a while but still couldn't sleep. She got up quietly and unconsciously walked toward Ethan Young's room.

When she pushed open the bedroom door, she was startled by her own actions.

She had never gone through Ethan Young's things.

Even back on Heishui Street, when times were tough and the lock on his secondhand desk drawer was useless, she never had the urge to peek at the diary inside.

The upbringing she received since childhood made her calm and restrained in these matters.

But now—

Grace Miller thought, maybe she would do something out of line just to understand what Ethan Young was really thinking.

Ethan Young's room was very tidy. Grace Miller walked in, her gaze sweeping over the desk, computer, and finally stopping on the slightly messy bed.

The phone was lying by the bed.

Grace Miller hesitated for a moment, reached out, but stopped herself just in time.

She sighed tiredly, about to withdraw her hand, when the phone screen suddenly lit up.

Yo Boss Young, I've been thinking it over these past few days, and I think you really should tell your mom about this. You can't just keep pretending like this. What are you going to do about the college entrance exam—

Ray Jones sat cross-legged on the sofa, earnestly sending a text. Feeling he hadn't said enough, he lowered his head and kept typing on the screen.

—Little Ray, who never liked writing essays as a kid, could write eight hundred words for his bro.

Even he was moved by himself!

Ray Jones had been having a rough time these days, with such a big secret weighing on his mind that he couldn't even focus on gaming.

The day before yesterday, he went to Guangmao to help Aunt May unload goods, and heard her muttering, "How did Xiao Yu's grades end up like this? He even dropped a rank this time. He used to be at the bottom of the grade, why bother moving up—"

Halfway through her words, he almost dropped the box he was carrying.

Ray Jones finished typing, hit send.

Yeah, we're just good at studying! What's there to hide, hide my ass, gotta let that idiot surnamed 钟 know the difference between people, let him see what it means to get into Tsinghua or Peking University with your eyes closed!

—

Ethan Young still didn't know that his little trip out had caused so much at home.

When he woke up in the morning, Henry Howard was already all over him, couldn't dodge the drunkenness but couldn't escape morning wood either. Ethan Young's mind was blank, and after climaxing, Henry Howard bit his lip and asked, "Now that you're done, is it my turn? With your legs?"

Ethan Young suspected this guy had been wanting to try this for a long time.

Henry Howard's movements were rough, and Ethan Young's eyes were red as he was bitten, letting out a hiss, gripping the bedsheet, faintly tasting blood in his mouth.

Henry Howard's hand slid down, asking in a low voice, "How are you going to explain when you go back? Thought it through?"

Ethan Young licked the wound at the corner of his mouth and said, "Fighting."