The airport.
Sun Binghe stood waiting at Exit Three in a brown trench coat.
The young man was tall, poised, and handsome, standing out even amid the bustling crowds.
Soon, a stream of people poured out of Exit Three. Sun Binghe grew attentive, and within seconds, a smile lit his eyes.
Yang Bin wore a suit and polished shoes, a black overcoat draped over one raised arm and a suitcase rolling beneath his other hand. He glanced down at his watch, his gold-rimmed glasses gleaming coolly under the lights.
Suddenly, Yang Bin stopped and looked in a particular direction.
Sun Binghe was walking toward him along the railing.
They exchanged a smile.
Once Yang Bin came out, Sun Binghe naturally took his suitcase and gave it a heft. "What did you pack? This thing's heavy."
"Didn't you really like the celadon from Ning Town? I had the chance, so I brought back a set," Yang Bin said. "Have you eaten?"
"Of course not."
"Come on," Yang Bin said. "My treat."
"Mm."
They walked side by side, Yang Bin's suitcase still in Sun Binghe's hand. After only a few steps, Yang Bin took his free hand.
Sun Binghe's fingertips trembled, but he didn't resist. He glanced at Yang Bin instead. "I thought you'd change your mind."
After all, Yang Bin had been sent away on assignment right after that night. Two weeks was enough time for him to reconsider their relationship; imagination and reality were different things. One night, Sun Binghe had even dreamed of Yang Bin returning and telling him apologetically, "I'm sorry. I don't think we can do this. I can't get used to it."
But now, Yang Bin's answer was to tuck the hand he held into his own pocket.
"It's gotten colder," Yang Bin said.
"Yeah."
Sun