The warmth of the year remains unchanged.

As the fireworks faded, the sea breeze carried the coolness of the night. Song Linchuan snuggled closer to Song Mingye, his fingertips still tinged with the excitement of watching the fireworks: "Brother, let's go to the beach and collect seashells. We can string them together into wind chimes and hang them on the terrace tonight."

Song Mingye smiled and nodded, then casually picked up a thin jacket from the back of the chair and draped it over his shoulders: "Be careful not to catch a cold."

Qi Zihao immediately chimed in, "Me too! I want to pick the biggest conch shell so I can listen to it sing tonight while the waves are crashing on the shore." Chu Xiaoche shook his head helplessly, but still got up and picked up their shoes, saying, "Walk slowly, don't step into the water."

Jiang Ziyu put away his easel, his gaze falling on the tiny seashells illuminated by the moonlight on the beach, a smile playing on his lips. Mu Nanjin took his hand and asked softly, "Want to go pick some up? I'll go with you." Jiang Ziyu nodded and followed him briskly toward the sea.

The moonlight spilled onto the beach, like a layer of silver frost. Song Linchuan bent down, searching for seashells, occasionally holding one up to the moonlight: "Brother, look at this one, it's so clear, like crystal!" Song Mingye squatted down beside him, brushing the fine sand off the seashell, his eyes filled with tenderness even more intense than the moonlight.

Qi Zihao indeed found a large conch shell and excitedly leaned close to Chu Xiaoche's ear: "Xiaoche, listen, there's the sound of the sea inside!" Chu Xiaoche smiled and tilted his ear, then gently kissed Qi Zihao's ear, causing Qi Zihao's ear tips to turn red and almost drop the conch shell in his hand.

Jiang Ziyu picked up a few small seashells, gently tracing their patterns with his fingertips. Mu Nanjin stood behind him, shielding him from the occasional evening breeze, and said softly, "You can draw some small patterns on these; they'll look even better strung together." Jiang Ziyu turned to look at him, his eyes sparkling, "Okay, let's draw them together when we get back."

It was late at night when they returned to the guesthouse. Song Linchuan sat at the table, enthusiastically stringing seashells together, while Song Mingye sat beside him, handing him the colorful string and scissors. Under the lamplight, Song Linchuan's profile was soft, his long eyelashes fluttering gently like butterfly wings. Song Mingye couldn't help but reach out and gently stroke the top of his head, feeling a sense of peace.

Laughter came from the next room. He was "performing" a song from a conch shell for Chu Xiaoche, imitating the sound perfectly. Chu Xiaoche leaned against the headboard, watching him fool around, a doting smile always on his lips, occasionally reaching out to tidy his messy hair.

Jiang Ziyu and Mu Nanjin sat by the window, drawing patterns on seashells by the light. Jiang Ziyu drew carefully, his brush tip delicately outlining the patterns of the waves; Mu Nanjin sat beside him, occasionally helping him mix the paints, her gaze always following him, full of tenderness.

Night had fallen. Song Linchuan leaned against Song Mingye's chest, holding a newly strung seashell wind chime in his hand. "Brother, listen, it rings when the wind blows." He gently shook the wind chime, its crisp sound particularly melodious in the quiet room. Song Mingye hugged him tightly and planted a kiss on his forehead: "Mmm, it sounds beautiful. We'll hang it here from now on."

Qi Zihao finally tired himself out and leaned against Chu Xiaoche's chest, his eyes gradually closing. Chu Xiaoche tucked him in, looked down at his sleeping face, sighed softly, but his eyes were full of smiles. He reached out and turned off the light, leaving only a small nightlight illuminating their embracing figures.

Jiang Ziyu finished painting the last seashell, leaned on Mu Nanjin's shoulder, and looked at the moonlight outside the window. "Nanjin, these days are so nice," he whispered. Mu Nanjin held his hand and patted it gently: "Yes, with you here, every day is wonderful."

A gentle sea breeze blew past the window, and the seashell wind chimes tinkled softly, as if telling a story of the tenderness of time. Three couples nestled together, their breathing gradually becoming steady, and happy smiles adorning their faces.

Days passed by like this, without any earth-shattering events, but with a gentle, flowing warmth. They would fly kites together in spring, escape the summer heat in the mountains, pick sweet fruits in autumn, and soak in hot springs to warm themselves in winter. Every spring, they would come to the beach to collect seashells, watch the sunrise, and set off fireworks, reliving those beautiful moments.

As Song Mingye's company grew bigger and bigger, he always made time to accompany Song Linchuan to see the beautiful scenery of the world. Song Linchuan's illustrations also became more and more popular. His paintings were always full of sunshine and warmth, recording his happy daily life with Song Mingye and his friends.

Chu Xiaoche remained calm and reliable, managing the company impeccably and spoiling Qi Zihao like a child who would never grow up. Qi Zihao's photography works won numerous awards, and his lens captured mostly Chu Xiaoche's figure and the mountains, rivers, lakes, and seas they had traveled together.

Jiang Ziyu became a well-known painter. His paintings are fresh and elegant and are loved by many. Mu Nanjin gave up her high-paying job to accompany Jiang Ziyu and take care of their small courtyard in the suburbs. The courtyard is full of flowers and plants and has a small studio, which has become their paradise.

Time has left its faint marks on their faces, but it has never changed the love and affection between them. They still bicker over trivial matters, just like when they were young, but they make up quickly; they share the joys and sorrows of life together, supporting and accompanying each other.

The evening breeze kissed the old windowsill, bringing the scents of the four seasons and the aroma of happiness. Their story continues, without end, only endless warmth and the long years stretching on.