Shen Wangjing shook his head and pulled up Jiang Xun's down jacket hood, covering his cold-reddened ears.
Jiang Xun tilted his head back.
It was the first time in his eighteen years of life that he had watched fireworks.
The riverside was alive with voices. Duan Qizhao's shouting came from his left, while Shen Yuxing held up his phone on his right, framing a shot.
People crowded together, and the cold wind sweeping off the river stirred everyone's white breath into a cloud.
Jiang Xun stopped thinking about the past. The light overhead filled his entire mind.
Golden balls of light filled the whole sky, followed closely by a red tide that swallowed the gold and spat it back out.
A second sky spread across the river. Fragments of light bounced and twisted on the surface, scattering with the waves into dazzling sequins.
Those colors poured into Jiang Xun's eyes in layers, lighting his pupils brilliantly, sparks darting through their stark black and white.
Shen Wangjing never looked up.
No matter how large, loud, or brilliant the fireworks were, his gaze remained fixed on Jiang Xun's face, never shifting for even a second.
Jiang Xun suddenly turned his head and met Shen Wangjing's eyes head-on. That gaze was deep and scorching, rushing toward him along with the subzero wind.
His breath stopped for a moment. He parted his lips, wanting to ask, "Why aren't you watching the fireworks?" But he swallowed the words.
He knew the answer perfectly well.
So he turned back to watch the fireworks, his hand at his side quietly hooking around Shen Wangjing's fingers, tightening little by little until their fingers were interlaced.
They stood like that in the crowd, one looking up at the sky, the other looking down at him. The river reflected a