Moonlight Left Behind chapter 29

That night, the two young men lay on the window seat, with Qin Yue telling stories about where each seashell and pebble came from. In between, they shared spoonfuls of the ugly cake.

To be honest, the cake tasted just as bad as it looked. The cream had a strong artificial flavor, and the cake itself was dry and coarse—eating it felt like chewing sand. But they enjoyed it anyway.

Following “birthday tradition,” Qin Yue smeared some cream on Lin Qinzhou’s nose and said, “Happy birthday, young master.”

Lin Qinzhou had told him many times that he wasn’t a young master, but Qin Yue never seemed to listen. He kept calling him “young master,” and eventually, Lin Qinzhou gave up correcting him.

“You don’t seem that annoying after all,” Lin Qinzhou said sincerely. Qin Yue chuckled softly, “Thanks for the compliment?”

Because of that comment, the two of them started laughing again. Qin Yue, feeling incredibly hot, borrowed a pencil from Lin Qinzhou and used it as a hairpin to put his hair up.

He probably wasn’t used to doing this, and the result was a bit of a mess, with his hair looking like a bird’s nest. But because he was good-looking, even the messy hair made him seem attractive, exuding a kind of disheveled beauty.

Many years later, when Lin Qinzhou thought back to this scene, he felt that Qin Yue had raised his standards of beauty. Even though they were separated by thousands of miles and Lin Qinzhou could no longer remember the details, his subconscious kept reminding him of how beautiful a person he had once seen. Now, when he looked at others, they always seemed to fall short.

“I shouldn’t have said you looked like a girl that day. Actually, your long hair looks really good,” Lin Qinzhou said.

Qin Yue smiled again, “Thanks.”

They talked for a long time afterward, neither of them remembering how they fell asleep. When Lin Qinzhou woke up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, he realized he had fallen asleep on the window seat, holding someone in his arms. Long, fragrant hair was spread across his chest, and he had accidentally gotten a small strand of it in his mouth.

Lin Qinzhou: “…”

His brain froze for a few seconds at the strange scene before he carefully got up and tiptoed to the bathroom.

When he came back, Qin Yue was still asleep but had shifted positions, now lying on his side with his hands tucked against his chest.

Lin Qinzhou first went to lie on his own bed, but unable to fall asleep, he got up again, grabbed a pillow, and lay back down on the window seat, giving half of his pillow to Qin Yue.

Only then did he feel sleepy again and fell into a peaceful sleep.

By the time he woke up, it was already noon the next day. Lin Qinzhou woke up feeling hot, not knowing who had cruelly turned off his air conditioner. He was sweating all over, and when he wiped his neck, the sweat practically dripped off his hand.

His body ached from sleeping on the window seat, and his head felt foggy. He sat up for a while before remembering why he had been sleeping there. Immediately, he felt a bit embarrassed.

When he went downstairs, he saw Qin Yue helping a couple check out. Lin Qinzhou glanced at him, feeling even more embarrassed, and quickly ducked into the kitchen, where he stayed for a long time.

“Breakfast is gone. The last bowl of satay noodles was taken by Grandma to feed the stray cats nearby,” Qin Yue said lazily, leaning against the doorframe, his tone carrying a lighthearted tease.

But for some reason, Lin Qinzhou felt that Qin Yue reminded him of a character from an anime he’d seen before. The boy in the anime had an invisible barrier around him that kept everyone else at a distance.

No one else could see the bubble, so no one could get close to the boy. Only a small hedgehog, with its sharp spines, managed to pierce through the bubble and become the boy’s friend.

Qin Yue now seemed like that boy. It was strange, and Lin Qinzhou couldn’t explain why he felt this way. It just seemed like Qin Yue’s smile wasn’t quite genuine, different from the night before.

“What’s wrong? What are you thinking about? Hungry?” Qin Yue asked, still smiling, waving his hand in front of Lin Qinzhou’s face as if to bring him back to reality.

“Yeah,” Lin Qinzhou replied. He hadn’t eaten much the night before, and now his stomach was empty. “Am I really Grandma’s grandson? How could she prefer to feed noodles to stray cats rather than to me?”

His skin was tanned by the island’s sun, and his nose had just finished peeling, making the skin there slightly pink, which looked a little funny.

But his face was round and a bit chubby, with big eyes. When he puffed out his cheeks deliberately, it gave him an innocent and naïve look.

Maybe it was because of this that Qin Yue unconsciously let down his guard around him.

A pampered little rich boy—how much bad intention could he really have?

“Grandma said you’d definitely sleep until noon, so you can have breakfast and lunch together,” Qin Yue said with a hint of a smile, walking over to the stove. “Lunch will be ready in half an hour. If you’re really hungry, I can make you some crispy rice.”

The crispy rice was leftover from meals, fried in oil, and stored in a glass jar. It could last a long time and be eaten plain or with soup, seaweed, or sugar.

Lin Qinzhou nodded. “Yes, just a little.”

Young people’s feelings of like or dislike are always simple. Lin Qinzhou held a grudge against Qin Yue over a bowl of oden, but he forgave him after Qin Yue gave him a flower basket cake, some small seashells, and a bowl of sugary crispy rice, quietly accepting him into his circle of friends.

For the next few days, Lin Qinzhou didn’t go out much. Instead, he stayed around the guesthouse while Qin Yue cleaned the rooms and swept the courtyard, occasionally lending a small helping hand.

But even when changing a duvet cover, Lin Qinzhou would end up tangled in it, and Qin Yue, frustrated with his clumsiness, eventually stopped asking for his help.

Qin Yue had expected the little rich boy to get mad and leave, but he didn’t. Instead, Lin Qinzhou stuck around like a little tail, waiting for him to finish his chores. Once they were done, Lin Qinzhou would grab a watermelon from the fridge and drag him outside to eat it.

If the watermelon wasn’t big, Lin Qinzhou would leave a piece for Grandma, and he and Qin Yue would each take half, scooping it out with spoons.

Lin Qinzhou ate in small bites but very quickly, like a squirrel. Qin Yue, on the other hand, ate slowly and methodically, so that by the time Lin Qinzhou finished his half, Qin Yue still had most of his left.

“Why do you eat so slowly? Don’t you like it?”

It wasn’t just watermelon. This guy ate everything slowly. If Lin Qinzhou hadn’t seen it for himself, he wouldn’t have believed that this was the same person who once grabbed his food on the street and wolfed it down so fast he nearly choked.

Qin Yue took a small scoop of watermelon, carefully spit out a seed, chewed slowly, and finally swallowed. “If you eat too fast, you can’t taste the flavor.”

What a strange reason. How could you not taste it? Isn’t watermelon just sweet? How could slow chewing bring out some other flavor?

Lin Qinzhou didn’t understand. He felt that Qin Yue always had many strange habits that he couldn’t comprehend, just as mysterious and weird as his identity.

“Forget it, you can eat slowly. I’ll go get my guitar.”

Although he had only eaten half of his food, watching someone else eat in front of him made him crave more. Lin Qinzhou decided to remove himself from temptation and went upstairs to get his guitar. He sat under the banyan tree, playing and singing as he strummed.

Lin Qinzhou had been immersed in musical instruments since childhood and could play a bit of everything, but his favorite was the guitar.

Because of this, Lin Long had once expressed dissatisfaction. Being a pianist herself, she couldn’t understand why her son preferred to play the guitar. What was the meaning of that?

Later, seeing how much he genuinely loved it, she allowed him to practice both instruments.

“…Young man, may you be safe, may you be brave, may you chase your dreams without hesitation…”

Lin Qinzhou’s singing was clear and melodious, drifting far with the summer sea breeze. Qin Yue ate his sweet watermelon, never daring to imagine that life could be this beautiful.

But deep down, he knew clearly that this time was stolen, and he didn’t know when he’d have to give it back.

He just didn’t expect that day would come so soon.