Immediately after the elderly Bai woman comments on their "young love" during Sanyuejie.
Xu Chen wanted to disappear into the atmosphere.
Preferably permanently.
The elderly Bai woman continued walking through the crowded festival square carrying her flower baskets as though she had not just casually detonated Xu Chen's remaining emotional stability in public.
Beside him, Aum watched her leave thoughtfully.
"She appears emotionally perceptive."
Xu Chen rubbed once at his forehead.
"Unfortunately Dali becomes spiritually committed to romance during Sanyuejie."
A faint pause.
"That appears statistically consistent with observed interactions today."
"That sentence alone should qualify as psychological warfare."
Warm amusement softened Aum's expression again.
Xu Chen genuinely needed the universe to stop making that look more attractive every hour.
The square around them remained crowded and alive beneath drifting festival banners and golden late-afternoon sunlight. Traditional Bai music echoed from the western performance stage while smoke from nearby food stalls curled upward into the cooling mountain air.
The crowds had thickened significantly now too.
Tourists pressed shoulder-to-shoulder between lantern-lined streets carrying flower garlands, sweets, paper fans, and festival souvenirs while photographers continued weaving through the market searching for good lighting and attractive couples.
Xu Chen suddenly realized with horror that they now qualified visibly for the second category.
"You became distressed," Aum observed.
"I became aware of reality."
"That response appears vague."
"It's surviving beautifully without clarification."
Warm laughter escaped Aum quietly.
Xu Chen's pulse reacted instantly.
They left the central square slowly afterward, moving into one of the narrower stone streets branching away from the densest part of the festival crowds.
The atmosphere shifted immediately.
Still lively.
Still crowded.
But softer here.
Tea cafés lined both sides of the road beneath old tiled roofs tangled with flowering vines while strings of lanterns swayed overhead in the spring wind. Musicians played slower acoustic songs near storefront entrances and the smell of roasted tea leaves drifted warmly through the air.
Xu Chen exhaled quietly.
Then stopped walking.
Because halfway down the street, outside a small open-air tea café, Meera Rao stood holding two shopping bags and staring directly at them with the exact expression of someone who had just discovered piece of information accidentally.
"Oh," she said slowly.
Xu Chen immediately recognized disaster.
Aum looked toward him calmly.
Meera ignored him completely.
Her eyes moved carefully between the two of them.
Then narrowed.
Meera stepped closer slowly through the moving festival crowd, still staring at Xu Chen with increasing disbelief.
"This is terrifying," she announced.
Xu Chen folded his arms defensively.
"I'm standing here peacefully. Why is that terrifying?"
"Because you don't stand peacefully in crowded places." She pointed accusingly toward the street around them. "You usually look like you're one inconvenience away from relocating permanently into the mountains."
Aum looked thoughtfully toward Xu Chen.
Warm amusement flickered briefly through Meera's face before fading again into observation.
Because now she was really looking at Xu Chen himself.
The way his shoulders weren't tense.
The absence of sharp alertness in crowded spaces.
The fact that he kept unconsciously orienting toward Aum naturally while speaking.
The realization moved visibly across her expression.
Slowly.
Then she looked toward Aum beside him.
And paused.
Because Aum, meanwhile, remained entirely calm beneath her scrutiny.
Not guarded.
Not performative.
Just quietly present beside Xu Chen like existing there had already become instinctive.
Festival lantern light shifted softly across the street between them while music drifted from somewhere farther downhill.
Meera crossed her arms.
"This is actually insane."
Xu Chen sighed.
"Can you define which specific part."
"You." She pointed directly at him. "You look happy in public."
The sentence entered the air gently.
And somehow hit harder than all the earlier teasing combined.
Xu Chen went quiet briefly.
Because she was right.
Meera stared at him another second longer before something in her expression softened unexpectedly.
Not teasing now.
Understanding.
She had known Xu Chen for years.
She knew:
the emotional distance,
the constant restraint,
the exhaustion hidden beneath professionalism,
the way he moved through life carefully instead of comfortably.
And standing here beneath drifting lantern light during Sanyuejie—
this version of him genuinely looked different.
The festival noise swelled around them again while lanterns shifted gently overhead in the evening wind.
And Meera looked at Xu Chen standing beside Aum beneath the warm gold light of Sanyuejie and realized, with quiet unexpected ache, that this was the most at peace she had seen him in years.