He saw the red moles on his collarbone

Zhang Nan heard the noise outside and turned to tell Fan Jin, "Sounds like Mr. Shan. He brought something."

Fan Jin glanced toward the door. "Go take a look."

The moment Zhang Nan stepped outside, he saw a large box filled with all kinds of flowers. Surprised, he asked, "Mr. Shan, what's this?"

"I bought them for the café. A little decoration," Shan Ye said with a smile.

Zhang Nan nodded and helped him carry the box inside.

Fan Jin watched them. A light sheen of sweat covered Shan Ye's forehead, and his cheeks were flushed, no different from the fresh flowers in the box.

But he showed little reaction, finishing the coffee in his hands and taking it to a customer.

Only when he returned did he walk over to Shan Ye and ask, "Why did you buy these?"

Zhang Nan answered for him. "Mr. Shan thought the café looked a little plain, so he wanted to add some color."

Shan Ye nodded.

Fan Jin looked away and stepped behind the counter. He surveyed the sea of brown in his café. Was it plain?

When he said nothing, Shan Ye's brow tightened. He took a couple of steps toward the counter and asked tentatively, "You... don't like them?"

Fan Jin washed a cup in the sink without looking up. His voice was indifferent. "I'm a man who's used to keeping things rough and simple. I'm not that romantic."

Shan Ye paused for two seconds, then smiled and replied, "Running a café is already romantic enough. You have no idea how much I've wanted to open one."

Fan Jin glanced at him. "How much?"

Shan Ye froze for a couple of seconds. "No... don't worry about it. They didn't cost much. We're friends, no need to be so formal."

...Friends. Fan Jin's hands paused.

Shan Ye scratched the back of his head. "I happen to be free today. Do you have any vases? I know how to arrange flowers."

Zhang Nan hurried over to the counter. "We do, Mr. Shan. I'll get them for you."

Shan Ye planned to carry the flowers into the back room, but there was no way he could lift such a large box alone. Bent at the waist, he slowly raised his head to look at Fan Jin and gave him a meaningful glance.

Fan Jin came out from behind the counter, stood opposite him, and bent down to help lift it.

Shan Ye wasn't sure whether he'd imagined it, but Fan Jin seemed to smile. Fan Jin was wearing an asymmetrical shirt today, with no buttons at the neckline. When he bent down, Shan Ye could see his entire collarbone and a third of his chest.

We're both men, so how is his collarbone so defined? He looked lean, but his muscles were taut and well-shaped.

Shan Ye put some strength into lifting the box. He had just spotted the red moles between Fan Jin's collarbones again. This time, he saw them clearly: two of them, nestled side by side.

They drew his gaze, making it impossible to look away.

The two red moles looked like marks he'd been born with, lending his cool reserve a touch of wildness.

Shan Ye stole several more looks.

Lost in thought, he helped carry the box into the back room. Truthfully, he barely contributed. Boss Fan was strong; Shan Ye merely supported the box to keep it from falling, hardly exerting himself.

Only once inside did he realize it was a storeroom. The space was small, with plenty of bags of coffee beans, cardboard boxes, and a medium-sized freezer. The warm scent of coffee filled the air.

Everything was neatly organized. Clearly, its owner was someone who loved cleanliness.

The cramped storeroom could only fit the two of them. If two tall, strapping men stood back to back, their butts would probably collide.

Fan Jin folded his arms and leaned against the counter behind him, watching Shan Ye stare into space. "What are you looking at?"

Shan Ye snapped out of it, only then realizing how close they were standing. "Nothing... I was just noticing how clean your storeroom is."

Without a word, Fan Jin went outside and brought in a stool, then handed him gloves and scissors.

Shan Ye took each item. "Thanks."

"I should be thanking you," Fan Jin said.

With such a large box of flowers and untrimmed foliage, Shan Ye had plenty to keep him busy that afternoon. Still, he enjoyed it. After all, he could spend the whole afternoon hanging around the café-and Boss Fan-with a perfectly legitimate excuse.

Sitting in the storeroom, he could see Fan Jin making coffee outside whenever he looked up.

There had originally been a curtain across the doorway, but Fan Jin had pulled it aside on his way out, giving Shan Ye a clear view of his back.

Shan Ye put on his gloves and got to work. He had learned flower arranging in college and hadn't forgotten everything yet.

At one point, Zhang Nan came in with the vases. "Mr. Shan, I'll come help once I'm done out front."

Shan Ye looked up at him and smiled. "No need. You two carry on."

While trimming a rose, Shan Ye wasn't paying attention and accidentally pricked his fingertip. He hissed in pain.

He pulled off the rubber glove. A bead of blood immediately welled up on his thumb, and he instinctively put it in his mouth.

Someone came through the doorway. Shan Ye looked up and met Fan Jin's eyes.

Seeing him sucking his thumb, Fan Jin frowned. "Didn't you wear gloves?"

Shan Ye took his thumb out of his mouth and muttered, "I did. The thorn was too sharp. It went straight through..."

Fan Jin stepped forward, took the rose from him, and turned on the tap at the sink. "Come rinse it."

Shan Ye obediently did as he was told, holding his hand under the running water. A few seconds later, Fan Jin returned.

He held out a bandage.

"Dry your hand, then put this on."

His tone was flat, but Shan Ye felt a little flutter of delight. Boss Fan was looking out for him.

He stole a glance at Fan Jin, whose brow was furrowed.

"Thanks." Shan Ye looked at the medical bandage in his hand. By the time he looked up again, Fan Jin had already left.

He stared at the culprit, the rose, unsure whether to praise it or curse it.

He put the bandage away without using it.

His thumb had stopped bleeding, and there weren't many flowers left. He would soon finish trimming them. All that remained was arranging them, which was relatively easy.

After finishing his orders, Fan Jin turned slightly to glance at Shan Ye. Standing at the counter, Shan Ye gently rolled flower stems between his fingertips, choosing each one with care. His movements were soft and fluid. After finishing an arrangement, he rotated the vase to inspect it from every angle.

Fan Jin turned to Zhang Nan. "He hurt his hand."

Zhang Nan immediately took the hint and went inside to help Shan Ye.

Faint, intermittent sounds drifted out, mostly Zhang Nan's compliments. "Mr. Shan, your arrangements look so beautiful..."

When they finished, there were a dozen or so vases. Zhang Nan carried them out one after another and set them on each table.

Hearing customers compliment his flower arrangements, Shan Ye felt a little pleased with himself.

Fan Jin looked around the café, which had been minimalist to the extreme. Suddenly, there was a splash of color. Every table held a vase, and even the front counter displayed flowers Shan Ye had arranged himself.

They kept hovering in his line of sight.

What exactly is he trying to do...?

Shan Ye had barged into his life out of nowhere, as if determined to leave something behind in it.

Fan Jin turned a blind eye, unwilling to give it much thought.

After clearing the stray stems and leaves from the storeroom, Shan Ye handed them to Zhang Nan along with the box. He washed his hands and came out.

With his back to him, Fan Jin asked, "What would you like to drink?"

Shan Ye paused for two seconds. "Are you asking me?"

"Mm."

"A latte, please. I'd like latte art, too."

Without a word, Fan Jin took a coffee cup from the drying rack and began making the drink.

Shan Ye sat in his usual spot and watched Fan Jin make coffee, his movements flowing effortlessly. Boss Fan's wrists were bare, without a single accessory.

There wasn't even a ring mark on his ring finger.

His shirt was hardly wrinkled, though it had clearly been washed many times and showed faint signs of yellowing.

Everything about him was impossibly clean.

Just Shan Ye's type.

Boss Fan is already thirty-two. He must have been in plenty of relationships. Shan Ye lowered his head and fiddled with the petals on the table, his thoughts already miles away.

Footsteps approached the table. Fan Jin stood over him, looking down as he mangled the freshly arranged rose.

Shan Ye pulled himself together and looked up, opening his clenched fist to reveal a petal he had plucked off.

Like a child caught doing something wrong.