As weeks passed, Li Chengxiu's routine settled. He found peace in the small things—reading in the park, cooking simple meals for himself, and, most of all, spending time with Yan Rui. Their friendship grew stronger, but Li Chengxiu could feel the lines blurring between just friendship and something deeper.
One evening, as they walked along the river, the setting sun casting an orange glow on the water, Yan Rui suddenly stopped and turned to him. "I need to ask you something."
Li Chengxiu looked at him, his heart skipping a beat. "What is it?"
"Where do you see yourself in the next few months?" Yan Rui asked, his voice steady but searching.
Li Chengxiu stared at the water, taking a deep breath. He had avoided thinking too far ahead, afraid of what his future might look like. But now, in this moment, surrounded by the tranquility of the river and the warmth of Yan Rui's presence, he felt a surge of possibility.
"I don't know," Li Chengxiu said, turning to face him. "But I know that I want to keep moving forward. I want to build a future where I'm not just surviving, but living."
Yan Rui smiled, his eyes full of understanding. "That's all anyone can ask for."
The air between them shifted, and for the first time, Li Chengxiu didn't feel scared of the unknown. He was ready to face it, to embrace it. And with Yan Rui by his side, perhaps he didn't have to do it alone.