When he saw his profile, Edward Harris had also harbored a bit of wishful thinking—maybe the other person was just Eric Wright’s attending physician. But the doctor before him, whose life seemed smooth and who was young and accomplished, even accompanied the patient for private work, brought hot tea, brought gloves, and helped Eric Wright tidy his scarf. Maybe he would even drive him home, or to a hotel, or perhaps even take Eric Wright in at his own apartment.

He was very curious whether a doctor really needed to go to such lengths.

Edward Harris’s legs felt as if they were frozen in place, as if he had suddenly become an exhibit here, waiting to be observed. If so, he was not worthy at all, not really deserving to be displayed here—he would only make people puzzled, make them laugh.

Realizing this, Edward Harris turned around and went downstairs, without a trace of reluctance.

On the way, he bumped into a boy dressed in a very Christmassy style. The boy’s red-and-green plaid shirt reminded Edward Harris that tonight was Christmas Eve.

December 24th—his own birthday.

Realizing this, Edward Harris paused for a moment on the steps, then slowed his pace as he went downstairs. Passing through the many exhibits on the first floor, his calm and composure gradually restored themselves from deep within, until he walked out of the art museum.

After getting in the car, Carl, who had been waiting in the passenger seat, turned to him and mentioned that the florist had just called to ask if he had any flower preferences, or if he was allergic to any flowers, so they could adjust according to the client’s request.

Edward Harris’s expression was cold, and he said nothing, scaring Carl into silence.

After a while, Carl tried to suggest, “White roses should be fine… or maybe daffodils, what do you think?”

Edward Harris felt suffocated, unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, and rolled down the window.

“Anything is fine, as long as it’s not peonies.”

Carl breathed a sigh of relief. The boss’s disliked flower wasn’t even under consideration, so he cheerfully said OK, and reminded, “Shaw, it’s not peony season anymore.”

Edward Harris looked out at the white expanse of snow.

That’s right, it hasn’t been summer for a long time.

“Let’s go.”

That afternoon, Edward Harris waited for his flight back to the Bay Area in a VIP lounge, and at the same time, he dialed a number from the information provided on the website.

“Hello, is this the person in charge of the ‘Your Birth’ installation art exhibition?”

“Yes, how can I help you?”

Edward Harris looked at the plane waiting outside the floor-to-ceiling window and said calmly, “I’d like to acquire an exhibit, number 21. Auction or direct purchase is fine.”

“Oh, really? This one doesn’t need to go through the auction process. Are you a collector or…?”

“Just an individual, happened to see it and really liked it.”

“All right, I’ll coordinate the specific process with you. This is the first piece from this exhibition to be collected.” There was a smile in the other person’s voice. “If the creator knew someone liked his work this much, he’d be very happy.”

Edward Harris did not smile.

“I’d like to remain anonymous.”

“Anonymous?” This kind of request wasn’t that rare, and the other party quickly accepted. “No problem at all, we’ll keep your personal information private. We hope you receive the piece you love.”

“Thank you.”

On the flight back to the Bay Area, Edward Harris thought, since he was about to turn 27, buying himself a birthday present wasn’t too much.

This gift was made by Eric Wright, reminding him of Eric Wright’s smile just now, no different from the summer when they first met.

So, at thirty thousand feet, Edward Harris dreamed of Eric Wright from six years ago, and it wasn’t foolish at all.

Author’s note:

The next chapter will start the flashback section (not a full flashback, but in fragments, like a dozen chapters of flashback interspersed with a dozen chapters of the present, that kind of thing). Thank you all for your support and comments~!

As for the unclear POV markers, it’s because the perspectives in this story switch—more from the top’s side at first, more from the bottom’s side later. Actually, the proportions are about the same, so I marked it as unclear.

Chapter 5 P. Color and Soul

As the end of the semester approached, Edward Harris was selected by the department as the new deputy head of the Study Department, preparing to take over from the senior who would be leaving after graduation.

After taking office, his first task was to organize a book and film club, an activity that, to him, didn’t really have much to do with studying.

In fact, whether it was reading unnecessary books or watching movies, Edward Harris rarely did either. He spent all his time studying, studying for exam scores. Even running for student council was just to earn more credits and build more connections.

Professors liked students who excelled academically, while leaders like the Youth League secretary tended to prefer students with strong organizational skills.

Edward Harris didn’t like being a leader among his peers, but he was willing to do anything that would help pave the way for his uncertain future. For anything else, he had no time to spare.

The department secured an activity room for the book and film club, and the other students in the department specially used funds to purchase some books to decorate the space.

It rained that day, and the weather was bad. Edward Harris enthusiastically helped them carry in a whole box of books and arranged them on the shelves one by one.

“Thanks for your hard work, Edward. If it weren’t for you, we were about to borrow a cart from the next building.”

Edward Harris kept a gentle smile on his face. “It’s nothing, don’t mention it.”