A Gift for Our Sixth Wedding Anniversary

Before stepping into the clothing store, Lucen fixed his hair in the window glass. He’d driven there through dust and wind, trying to make himself look presentable. This handsome body he’d crafted was something he admired from every angle, until he noticed Bai Wei sitting on the other side of the glass, staring straight at him.

Lucen: …

He must have seen me acting like a fool—Lucen smiled awkwardly and waved. But soon he realized that although Bai Wei was looking this way, he hadn’t actually noticed Lucen. The young man’s dark eyes were blank, lost in thought.

“You’re here! We close in half an hour,” it was the shop assistant who first noticed him. When Lucen entered, she looked up, astonished. “Wow, you’re so tall… Good thing I grabbed the largest size. These clothes were all bought for you by your wife. He specifically said they had to be the best and most expensive—they’re your one-year wedding anniversary gift. You two get along much better than we imagined.”

Buying clothes? Relationship?

No one had ever bought Lucen clothes. He’d never been picky about what he wore; even when purchasing hoodies and combat gear for missions, it was only to appear more human. And he never cared about the value of things. For Lucen, the mercenary, even the most expensive treasures were merely targets to seize—Van Gogh’s paintings, Michelangelo’s sculptures, Dior’s gowns. Amidst war, these objects were inedible, and he could acquire them at will, tucking them into safes.

But now, faced with these flimsy paper bags, Lucen felt as if they were burning hot potatoes in his hands. His fingers had never trembled when snatching treasures for hire, yet these “small-town luxury goods” seemed so fragile, as if he might tear them apart with a careless touch.

“He bought these for me? Why?” Lucen didn’t pick up the clothes but was desperate to know.

“Because it’s your anniversary,” the shop owner glanced at Bai Wei, as if suddenly understanding. “Don’t tell me you haven’t given him a wedding anniversary gift yet?”

So, for humans, a marriage anniversary is such a significant thing? He hadn’t given Bai Wei anything…

“Your wife loves you so much, you’d better make up for it,” the assistant whispered, nudging him. “And, about the bank card password, you should explain it to him later. Don’t let it affect your relationship.”

“Why?”

“He doesn’t seem to think today is the day you first met. After that phone call, he looked gloomy. Maybe he thinks it’s an anniversary with some mistress.” The shop owner kindly advised, “If couples have doubts, it’s best to clear them up early. Otherwise, misunderstandings only snowball.”

She handed Lucen the black-and-pink bag. “The gifts inside are for you two as well. Happy anniversary, may your relationship grow ever stronger!”

Before Lucen could reflect, the shop owner patted his shoulder and pushed him toward Bai Wei.

“Come again!” They watched the pair leave. The assistant kept sneaking glances at Bai Wei’s retreating figure. “I heard Bai Wei looks down on us, but seeing him in person, he just seemed nervous… And he’s quite good-looking!”

She added, a bit resentful, “But what’s up with his husband? It’s like he can’t remember anything.”

“Some rumors really aren’t worth listening to,” the owner shrugged. “And some people just don’t notice things, so seeing isn’t always believing.”

“Huh?”

“His husband’s eyes never left Bai Wei from the moment he entered till the moment he left. With a love like theirs? Impossible for it not to be real,” the owner teased.

…

Bai Wei sat quietly in the passenger seat, gazing out the window, deep in thought—like a clean, beautiful angel statue. Lucen glanced at him, then at the shopping bags in his lap, still unable to believe Bai Wei had bought those for him.

Silence in the car had become routine. Lucen didn’t know how to converse with his wife while driving, and Bai Wei disliked talking. In the past six months, living in Snow Mountain Town, they were more like roommates. Lucen left early and returned late; Bai Wei stayed in his own room.

Lucen didn’t understand how he viewed Bai Wei. He’d seized Bai Wei like a coveted treasure, using their house as a museum to keep him well-fed. As for Bai Wei—it seemed that as long as he left his original family, he could live anywhere, never noticing those around him.

From the start, they’d never considered or prepared for “entering a new relationship.” In the past six months, no one thought it was wrong.

But now, Lucen felt it was wrong. He hadn’t expected that in the shop, the owner and assistant would think him odd, possibly threatening his concealment in Snow Mountain Town. He hadn’t considered that playing the role of a good husband was his duty and a necessary practice. Instead, he suddenly began to ponder his “relationship” with Bai Wei—a foreign concept, happening between people, not monsters and treasures. This word encompassed not just the two of them, but also the invisible connection between them.

He should speak more to Bai Wei in the car, though he didn’t know why—maybe because Bai Wei sat there so alone, looking pitiful.

Pitiful, even more than a lonely gem abandoned without a cushioned box.

“I was thinking…”

“Why is your bank card password 270920?” Bai Wei tilted his head. “Is that a special date for you?”

Lucen froze, his hands on the wheel hesitating. “If I told you it was the day I first met you?”

Bai Wei laughed softly. His laughter was like ice cubes clinking in a bowl, refreshing every listener.

But he said, “Liar. I don’t remember meeting you that day.”

Lucen felt his tongue burn. “Maybe I met you, but you didn’t remember… Then, a year later, I met you again during a matchmaking event. At that moment, I felt everything was destined.”

“That complicates things. I was in Black Harbor City that day. Black Harbor’s full of thieves and vagrants.” Bai Wei asked casually, “Where did you meet me?”

Lucen paused: “…the TV station?”

Bai Wei laughed again, elegantly, coolly. “All right, the TV station.”

That answer reassured him. Indeed, the truth behind the bank card password annoyed him just as their marriage did. Lucen only knew Bai Wei had worked at Black Harbor’s TV station, not that he hadn’t gone there at all that day.

But it didn’t matter. No one cares what secrets a soon-to-be-dead husband might hide.

A husband can be all lies—180cm tall, civil servant status, overseas education, 18cm in length, published in top journals, in-laws’ retirement pension… As long as the life insurance is real, the husband can still be a genuine, loving husband.

Lucen, hands on the wheel, hesitated. He suddenly realized something.

In September 2027, “Lucen” wasn’t in Black Harbor City.

Bai Wei couldn’t know that was their first meeting. At that time, Lucen’s appearance and state were completely different. He hadn’t found “Lucen’s” passport or begun impersonating him.

In September 2027, Lucen had been betrayed by an old acquaintance, escaped to sea, swam thousands of miles across the Pacific to evade pursuit, devoured a pirate for nutrition, then came ashore during molting, drifting into Black Harbor. His mind was clouded; his mimicry looked nothing like now.

Finally, he collapsed on the street like a vagrant, and it was Bai Wei who gently picked him up, cared for him, hydrated him, and shared a blissful night. But after Lucen fell into deep sleep, then awakened at the garbage station the next day, they never met again.

Black Harbor’s guest services truly were poor. He hadn’t paid for the second night, but to throw him in the trash? As if he’d died and needed to be discarded. After that, Lucen developed a great prejudice against Black Harbor’s service industry; if not for seeking Bai Wei, he wouldn’t spend a cent there. Lucen wasn’t human, but that was his consumer’s choice.

Meanwhile, “Lucen” and his twin sister hadn’t died in the shipwreck. They were studying in France, living extravagantly, passports and IDs safely stored at home. Elegant, refined, mingling in high society, kissing their delicate lips with the most expensive champagne.

They were nothing like Lucen. Until he found their passports amid the wreck, mistakenly mixed the brother’s and sister’s fragments, pieced together the current “Lucen,” and, by chance, met Bai Wei again at a matchmaking event.

In the past, Lucen wouldn’t have cared about hiding things from Bai Wei. He could hold Bai Wei in his palm—wasn’t that his own skill? Concealment didn’t affect his form, nor Bai Wei’s appearance.

But slowly, his attitude changed. Now, thinking back, it all began with that meal.

If Bai Wei misunderstood the date as being for someone else… Lucen didn’t want Bai Wei to think he had a relationship with anyone else. He turned to speak, but heard Bai Wei say, “Sometimes I feel leaving Black Harbor was a good thing.”

“I hate every street, every person in Black Harbor. Streets full of drug dealers, fallen vagrants, apathetic city guards, mercenary thieves landing from the sea. Twenty years ago, it was home for me and my mother. Now even the bay is slick with oil and filthy marine creatures. Living there, I constantly wanted to clean the city,” Bai Wei pressed his hands together.

“You hate… mercenaries, vagrants, and marine creatures?” Lucen’s heart trembled, just as it had during dinner. Bai Wei’s words felt directed at him.

“Yes. Luckily, I left and met you, husband.” Bai Wei smiled brilliantly. “You’re nothing like Black Harbor. Brave, energetic, elegant, educated, traveled so many places… You’re like a god who pulled me out of the mire.”

“…”

“Husband, why aren’t you saying anything?”

Everything Bai Wei described belonged to “Lucen,” not to him.

Does Bai Wei love the identity of “Lucen,” or him as her husband? These clothes… were they bought for “Lucen”? Would anyone who was “Lucen” receive them?

It wasn’t fair. Lucen wanted to collect Bai Wei as a whole, yet for Bai Wei, it seemed anyone could be Lucen.

Lucen remained silent. Bai Wei sat in the passenger seat, wondering if he’d said something wrong.

But as they parked and entered the foyer, Lucen suddenly asked, “Why did you buy me clothes?”

Bai Wei turned, surprised. “Because you’re so good to me, husband.”

Lucen said, “Good?”

He genuinely sought answers. Lucen was just beginning to understand relationships, unsure if he’d done enough—was that really what made him a good husband to Bai Wei?

Was that why Bai Wei treated him so well?

Or perhaps goodness was relative. If so, what kind of painful life had Bai Wei endured before?

Lucen felt both discomfort and excitement. The discomfort came from Bai Wei so easily considering him “good”—as if no one had ever offered Bai Wei “better.” The excitement was base; Bai Wei wanted to buy him clothes because he was “good” to him. Bai Wei didn’t love “Lucen”; he loved their relationship.

If the “Lucen” identity was fake, so what? He was never the nobleman on the passport. If Bai Wei’s affection was half for his identity, half for his “goodness,” then by being even better to Bai Wei, someday Bai Wei would love him entirely for his “goodness,” not for being “Lucen.”

The logic was simple: Bai Wei was his stolen treasure, so who could say Bai Wei wasn’t his wife? “Lucen” might be someone else’s name, but the “relationship” belonged to him. He would invest more in their bond, possess Bai Wei more deeply than before.

Lucen pressed all his complicated feelings back inside. He decided he must have caught a cold, making him overthink. Bai Wei was his wife; he was her husband. He would take “relationship” seriously, be sure that Bai Wei was his, and they would live happily together. Simple as that.

His confidence returned.

A smile crept onto Bai Wei’s cold lips. He realized things were still under his control: “And you’re my husband—if I don’t buy you clothes, who would I buy them for?”

“I should give you an anniversary gift,” Lucen said, taking off his coat, wanting to add something to the bank of their relationship. “What do you want?”

He smiled, “Whatever you want, I can get it for you.”

Utterly confident.

Bai Wei skipped the conversation and grabbed the other side of Lucen’s coat.

“I’ll hang it up.”

He quickly pulled the heavy coat away, fingers sliding through its pockets—just a pack of tissues and a Swiss army knife, nothing else. Lucen was startled by his actions, looking deeply moved. “I’ll go make dinner…”

With that, Lucen headed upstairs.

No! He can’t let Lucen go! He must be planning to hide the keys somewhere else in the house! Bai Wei couldn’t let his target escape. He stashed the coat in the laundry cabinet at lightning speed, then chased after him, “Lucen!”

“Don’t stop me, this is what I should do!” Lucen’s tone was cheerful.

“No, don’t—”

“I was thinking, the neighbor lady was right. Tonight, if I have time, I’ll turn the soil in the garden. It’s time I made it beautiful. That way, when you write and look out the window, you’ll see blooming flowers.”

He wanted to expand his map, hide the keys in the soil!

“Tomorrow’s the weekend, I want to go out and buy you a gift.” Lucen thought of his safe in Black Harbor, stuffed with stolen treasures. “There’s bound to be something you want. Speaking of which, actually, back in September 20th, 2017…”

And he’d put the cellar keys in there too. After that, nothing could separate him and Bai Wei.

—Lucen still wants to run off with the keys! There must be something sinister in the cellar!

Bai Wei had to use his trump card. He interrupted Lucen’s confession with a shout, “Husband!”

Lucen, halfway up the stairs, immediately turned back.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, puzzled. “Why are you so anxious? Don’t want me to go out tomorrow?”

Bai Wei was stunned. Quickly, he switched expressions.

“Husband, don’t rush upstairs,” he tugged at his own sleeve. “Don’t you want to try on the clothes I bought for you?”

Lucen, “Oh, oh.”

So Bai Wei wanted him to try on the clothes!

Humans do have the habit of unwrapping gifts immediately after receiving them. It shows happiness and appreciation for the giver. Lucen picked up the shopping bags from the cabinet. “I’ll go upstairs and change…”

“No, I’ll go with you,” Bai Wei said.

Lucen looked at him twice, surprised.

Bai Wei fixed his gaze on Lucen’s waistband as he entered the bedroom. He closed the curtains and saw Lucen carrying the bags, heading toward the dressing room.

The dressing room!

Thinking of all those neatly arranged shirts, coats, sweaters, and countless bags where keys could be hidden, Bai Wei’s head spun. He quickly stepped forward, “Where are you going?”

Lucen, caught by the arm, was confused. “To change.”

“No, change right here,” Bai Wei said, determined not to let him escape.

Lucen, “…right here?”

Bai Wei opened his mouth, suddenly realizing the situation seemed a bit too intimate. But fortunately, Bai Wei was someone with strong goals—he would overcome any psychological discomfort to achieve them.

“Right here,” he said, expressionless.