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The restaurant's New Year's Eve dinner was lavish.

Before the New Year's Eve dinner, because the hands of ancient book restorers are precious and they need to stay away from alcohol, Shang Song quietly took back his father's wine.

The Spring Festival Gala had already started on TV, and the noisy background music filled the room.

Mr. and Mrs. Shang warmly greeted Xie Jing, while Shang Song sat next to him, trying his best to play the roles of a happy son and a caring lover.

He laughed along, cracked jokes, served food to his parents, and also took good care of Xie Jing.

The New Year's Eve dinner lasted a long time, and everyone was very happy.

After the New Year's Eve dinner, the four of them sat in the living room, watching TV programs and chatting.

As midnight approached, Mr. and Mrs. Shang, being of advanced age, could no longer stay awake. Seeing that their two children clearly needed some alone time, they gave them a few instructions and went back to their room to rest.

The living room fell silent, with only the noisy broadcast of the gala on TV and the increasingly intense booming of fireworks outside the window.

Shang Song glanced at Xie Jing, who was staring blankly at the gala scene.

On the television screen, the host had already begun the final countdown, "Ten, nine, eight..."

Outside the window, the sounds of firecrackers and booming noises were as dense as rolling thunder, growing louder as they approached, filling the world with the resounding sounds of bidding farewell to the old year and welcoming the new.

Shang Song could no longer hold back.

During the final countdown by the host, as thousands of fireworks exploded outside the window, he suddenly rushed over and hugged Xie Jing tightly beside him.

The world was resounding, and so was his heart.

He shouted with all his might, his voice piercing through the deafening roar of fireworks and firecrackers.

He shouted, "Xie Jing! I checked! All your stamps! I checked them all! The Central Research Institute of Culture and History! The National Center for the Preservation of Ancient Books!"

Xie Jing was thrown back slightly by his tackle, and amidst the deafening noise, Shang Song's hot breath and excited words assaulted his eardrums.

He was somewhat stunned, wondering why Shang Song would bring these things up at this time and in this way.

"Those..." Xie Jing's voice was somewhat muffled amidst the clamor of the heavens and earth, "...were just for work purposes."

"Hehe," Shang Song raised his head in his arms, his eyes reflecting the dazzling fireworks outside the window, so bright they were astonishing, filled with indescribable pride, awe, worship, and pure love.

He laughed loudly: "But you're so amazing! Xie Jing! How can you be so amazing!!!"

After he finished shouting, at the very moment of the transition from the old year to the new, amidst the dazzling brilliance of countless lights shining brightly outside the window, he suddenly leaned forward and kissed Xie Jing forcefully.

A deafening roar filled the sky.

Soft, warm lips, carrying all of Shang Song's burning love, pressed against Xie Jing's lips without hesitation in the most bustling moment in the world, and also crashed hard against Xie Jing's suddenly stopped heartbeat.

In that instant, Xie Jing's world, all the sounds, lights, and smells of gunpowder, seemed to fade away, stripped away, leaving only the clear warmth on his lips and the eyes before him filled with all the stars and love in the universe.

Shang Song pressed his lips against Xie Jing's, feeling the coolness of Xie Jing's lips and their disordered heartbeats.

After sticking it on for a while, as if he had exhausted all his courage, or perhaps noticing Xie Jing's stiffness, he reluctantly stepped back and created a little distance between them.

His lips left his, but he looked up at Xie Jing, who was so close to him.

Xie Jing remained in the same slightly backward posture he had been in when Xie Jing was tackled, his eyes deep and seemingly empty despite the flames reflected in the window.

It's like... I was stunned by his kiss again?

Shang Song couldn't help but smile, his lips curling into a silly grin, his eyes crinkling into crescent moons.

Just as he was grinning foolishly, about to say something, a faint light gradually appeared in Xie Jing's empty eyes.

He didn't speak, nor did he give any indication.

He suddenly raised his arm and, with an irresistible force, grabbed Shang Song's waist, pulling him firmly back into his arms.

Then, just as Shang Song stared in surprise, he lowered his head and took the initiative to kiss Shang Song's lips again.

This was a real kiss.

His lips were still a little cold. At first, he only touched them, tentatively and cautiously, and you could even feel a noticeable tremor.

After confirming Shang Song's consent, he began to slowly trace Shang Song's lips with his own, trying to fit them more closely. Then, with some vague instinct, he began to kiss her very awkwardly and tentatively.

Shang Song shuddered and instinctively closed his eyes, his long eyelashes trembling violently.

He parted his lips slightly, passively accepting the kiss, his blood boiling and his heart pounding.

Xie Jing's breathing became somewhat disordered, and his movements were clumsy and haphazard, but every touch between his lips and tongue carried an extremely naive exploration and a secret desire for possession.

His arms unconsciously tightened, drawing Shang Song deeper and deeper into his embrace.

They had no experience with this, relying only on their most primal instincts and their overwhelming love for each other, awkwardly exploring each other's lips and exchanging their burning breaths amidst the clamor of the transition between the old and the new.

The roar of fireworks outside the window was silent, and the whole world seemed to collapse, leaving only this small corner of the sofa, where they were embracing and kissing each other with all their might.

After an unknown amount of time, until Shang Song felt like she was about to faint, Xie Jing slowly and reluctantly released Shang Song's lips.

But his forehead remained pressed tightly against Shang Song's, and his arms around her did not loosen. The two were so close that their eyelashes were practically fluttering, and they could clearly feel each other's equally rapid heartbeats and hot breaths.

Xie Jing was breathing heavily, his ears were red, and his usually fair cheeks were tinged with a thin blush. His usually deep eyes were now misty and dangerous, filled with something intense and unfamiliar that Shang Song had never seen before.

Shang Song was panting heavily, his face was burning hot, and his lips were red and swollen, glistening with moisture.

He slowly opened his wet eyes and looked at Xie Jing, who seemed like a completely different person, his heart still pounding wildly out of control.

He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but found that he couldn't make a sound at all.

Xie Jing didn't say anything, but just quietly looked at him, pressed against him, and then, very lightly, very lightly rubbed his forehead against Shang Song's forehead.

Then, he spoke softly, his hot breath brushing against Shang Song's delicate cheek.

他 说:

"Happy New Year, Shang Song."