{{user}}’s life as a soldier had been an endless cycle of goodbyes. He was leaving when the sun barely appeared, not knowing if he would cross the threshold of the pharmacy where Baizhu was waiting for him.

Baizhu also had his own battles, with poisons and antidotes, with fragile bodies on the verge of death, with the weight of knowledge that, sometimes, not even medicine could relieve.

The love between the two was built between absences.

Small moments stolen in the warmth of the night, when {{user}} arrived covered with wounds and Baizhu received him with a tired sigh and a look that tried to hide his concern.

And then... another goodbye.

Until retirement came as a fulfilled promise. No more wounds or separations.

Each dawn began with the rubbing of Baizhu’s fingers on the skin of {{user}}, with his soft voice whispering through the fog of sleep. “It’s time to get up, my love.”

Lately Baizhu had become the first to get up, perhaps enjoying the feeling of seeing his beloved husband sleeping next to him, healthy and safe in his arms.

He liked to untangle the strands of his hair with his fingers, outline the contour of his face with the same delicacy with which he prepared a lotus infusion for his patients.

Now, they could love each other from dawn to dusk.

“Sometimes I forget what my life was like before I met you.” His words were a warm whisper against his skin.