Xu Chen did not recover from the wrist touch immediately.
Or rationally.
The contact itself lasted less than two seconds beneath the edge of the crowded silver stall table.
But the intention behind it—
that destroyed him completely.
Because Aum had done it consciously.
Not accidental proximity.
Not unconscious movement through crowds.
Intentional hidden affection.
Xu Chen stared straight ahead at the rows of silver bracelets while festival noise roared around them in overwhelming color and sound.
God.
Aum was adapting frighteningly fast.
The elderly Bai artisan looked between them with visible amusement.
"Young people during Sanyuejie always become quieter after realizing they're in love," she said while polishing one of the bracelets with a soft cloth. "Like they suddenly discover language stopped working correctly."
Xu Chen laughed weakly under his breath.
"That appears medically accurate."
Beside him, Aum turned slightly.
"You previously retained stronger verbal functionality."
The old artisan immediately burst into warm laughter.
Xu Chen closed his eyes briefly.
"Fantastic. Now both of you are analyzing me."
Aum looked genuinely thoughtful.
"You are currently emotionally overwhelmed."
"That is because you touched me like a criminal conspiracy under a jewelry table."
The old artisan looked delighted.
Aum, meanwhile, appeared entirely calm.
"I was attempting reassurance."
God.
Xu Chen genuinely needed someone to confiscate this man's access to emotional intelligence immediately.
The silver bracelets still rested between them on the display cloth beneath shifting fragments of sunlight reflecting from hanging ornaments overhead.
Simple.
Elegant.
Quietly intimate.
Xu Chen tried very hard not to think about how absurdly symbolic the situation already felt.
Failed completely.
Aum looked down toward the bracelets again.
"These are associated with protection rituals."
The artisan nodded warmly.
"Protection, remembrance, emotional connection." She smiled knowingly. "People buy them during festivals when someone becomes important."
Xu Chen's cardiovascular system officially resigned from existence.
Aum glanced sideways toward him.
"You became distressed again."
Xu Chen pointed weakly toward the old woman.
"She is emotionally weaponizing local culture."
"That does appear partially intentional."
Warm laughter flickered through Aum's voice again.
God.
That sound.
The market street softened around it somehow despite the overwhelming noise and movement surrounding them.
Xu Chen suddenly became painfully aware of the world looking at them differently now too.
Not because strangers recognized anything specific.
Because he did.
Every tiny interaction had changed meaning overnight.
Standing close in crowds.
Shared tea.
Borrowed clothes.
Hidden wrist touches beneath silver stalls.
Love had altered ordinary things structurally.
The realization settled heavily through him.
The artisan picked up one of the bracelets carefully.
"This design is traditional Bai silverwork," she explained while rotating it beneath the sunlight. "Simple patterns last longest."
Aum observed the engraved lines intently.
Xu Chen watched him instead.
Hopeless.
Absolutely hopeless.
A pair of tourists stopped near the stall beside them, momentarily crowding the narrow market space tighter. Movement surged around the tables as more festival visitors pressed through the stone road carrying flowers, sweets, paper lanterns, and cameras.
Instinctively, Aum shifted closer toward Xu Chen again.
Protective positioning.
The movement happened automatically now.
Xu Chen felt warmth spread immediately through his chest.
Aum looked toward the tourists briefly before lowering his voice near Xu Chen.
"The environmental density remains uncomfortable for you."
The accuracy hit instantly.
Xu Chen blinked once.
"You can tell?"
"You shift breathing patterns whenever uncontrolled physical proximity increases."
God.
Xu Chen looked away toward the hanging silver ornaments before his nervous system combusted publicly.
"You really memorized my stress responses."
"Yes."
No hesitation.
Just calm certainty again.
The artisan watched both of them quietly for a moment before smiling softly to herself.
Then she placed the bracelet directly into Aum's hand.
"This one suits him," she said casually.
Xu Chen stopped functioning.
Aum looked down at the silver band resting against his palm carefully.
Then—
very naturally—
he turned toward Xu Chen.
And suddenly the entire crowded market street disappeared from Xu Chen's awareness entirely.
Because Aum was looking at him with that same impossible quiet focus again.
Not intense.
Not dramatic.
Certain.
Festival sunlight caught against the silver bracelet in his hand while voices and music blurred around them into indistinct background noise.
Then Aum asked softly:
"Would this cause discomfort for you."
Xu Chen's throat tightened instantly.
Not:
Do you want it.
Not:
Should we buy it.
Would this make you uncomfortable.
Always checking.
Always leaving space.
God.
Xu Chen looked at the bracelet.
Then at Aum.
Then at the crowded festival street around them.
People moved endlessly past the stall beneath bright banners and drifting flower petals while distant drums echoed through Old Dali like a second heartbeat beneath the city.
And suddenly Xu Chen realized something terrifying:
he did not want caution anymore.
Not today.
Not with him.
Xu Chen exhaled softly.
"No," he answered honestly.
The silence afterward became impossibly gentle.
Aum's expression softened immediately.
Then, with careful slowness—as though giving Xu Chen time to stop him if needed—he reached for Xu Chen's wrist.
The contact felt unbearably warm.
Xu Chen could feel the cool silver against his skin as Aum fastened the thin bracelet carefully beneath the sleeve of his jacket.
Tiny movement.
Tiny object.
Catastrophic emotional impact.
The artisan smiled warmly behind the table.
"There," she said softly. "Now the festival will remember you properly."
Xu Chen genuinely thought he might emotionally disintegrate in the middle of Foreigner Street.
Because the terrifying thing was not the bracelet itself.
It was how natural it felt watching Aum place it on him.
Like some quiet part of Xu Chen had already accepted:
this person belongs close to me.