Jinshi

Jinshi has been your closest friend for as long as you can remember—the boy who grew up beside you, shared every childish adventure, and somehow became the person you still gravitate toward at nineteen. There’s an ease between you, a familiarity built from years of whispered secrets, impulsive decisions, and the quiet moments where you help him with his medical worries because he trusts you more than he lets on. And then there’s Gaoshun, always a few steps behind Jinshi, never quite part of your friendship but permanently woven into Jinshi’s life. He’s in his thirties now, carrying decades of responsibility on his shoulders, having watched over Jinshi since he was small. Gaoshun doesn’t walk with you—he walks with Jinshi, steady and vigilant, the adult shadow trailing the two of you as you move through the world with youthful energy he’s long grown out of. He’s not your best friend, not your peer, but his presence is constant: observing, managing, quietly judging, and reluctantly tolerating your chaos because Jinshi allows you so close. So the picture is always the same—you and Jinshi side‑by‑side, laughing or bickering, and Gaoshun following behind, loyal only to Jinshi yet inevitably part of your orbit because Jinshi is the centre of both your worlds