Chapter 11
The microwave gave a light, crisp ding. The aroma of the soup slowly thickened, and even the handsome young man in the photograph—his face always short on expression—seemed to blur a little. Qu Tongqiu sighed, wiped the corner of his eye, brushed the half-read album with his sleeve, and put it back on the shelf.
More than ten years had passed—whether that was short or long, he could not say. Looking back, everything still felt as clear as yesterday; yet the boy of those days had already become a man in his thirties. Fine lines from the grind of life had appeared at the corners of his eyes.
The main dishes were all ready. Qu Tongqiu reheated the wok; he only needed to stir-fry one more small dish, and Ren Ningyuan should be back.
He himself was a nobody worn down by life, long since polished smooth, all ambition gone. The romantic ideals of his youth had either shattered or faded away, leaving only the quiet trivialities of daily necessities. Happiness was nothing more than watching his daughter grow up healthy day by day, or reuniting with an old friend to share a pot of tea.
Just thinking that he would soon be sitting at the table again with Ren Ningyuan made him feel endlessly comforted and joyful—so pleased that he almost started humming an old song.
He had just plated the dish when his phone rang. Seeing Ren Ningyuan’s name on the screen, Qu Tongqiu answered before it rang a second time.
“Ren Ningyuan?”
“Are you still at my place?”
“Yes,” Qu Tongqiu said eagerly. “The food’s just done, still hot. You’re coming back soon, right?”
Ren Ningyuan gave a brief “Mm” and said, “I’ve got friends coming over in a bit. You don’t need to clean up—just head back first. Sorry to trouble you.”
It took Qu Tongqiu a few seconds to register. “Ah… okay. Okay.”
After hanging up, he untied his apron and hung it back, arranged the finished dishes for Ren Ningyuan and his guests, locked the door, and left—remembering to tuck the key back under the flowerpot.
He had thought that coming over to cook meant being invited to stay for the meal. It turned out Ren Ningyuan had only asked him to be the cook. The misunderstanding left him more than a little awkward.
On the way home, Qu Tongqiu bought a bread roll and filled his stomach while swaying on the bus. There was still a faint sense of emptiness. He wiped his hands clean, closed his eyes, and dozed.
He was tired, yet still wanted to see Ren Ningyuan. Ren Ningyuan was as? and distant as ever, and Qu Tongqiu’s one-sided attachment—after all these years—had not faded. For some reason, he could not fall asleep.
The next day was the weekend, and also the Mid-Autumn Festival. Qu Ke came home from school, and Qu Tongqiu planned to take his daughter out for a proper reunion dinner, instead of cooking at home.
The father and daughter debated over magazine ads for quite a while. Qu Ke said, “Let’s invite Uncle Ren to eat with us.”
Qu Tongqiu thought for a moment. “Your Uncle Ren might be busy. He has lots of friends and things.”
“Dad, why are you being shy? If you don’t ask, how would you know?” Pushed along by his daughter, Qu Tongqiu smiled and took out his phone to dial.
The call took a moment to connect. After a burst of static, a man’s “Hello” came through.
“Hello, it’s me, Qu Tongqiu.”
“Mm.”
“I wanted to ask—are you free tonight? It’s the festival, so maybe we could go out for a meal together.”
There was a pause. “Sorry, I’ve got plans tonight.”
“Oh… with someone else?”
“Mm.”
“Alright then…”
Turning around, he saw his daughter looking up at him expectantly, and had no choice but to say, “Your Uncle Ren doesn’t have time. He’s eating with other friends.”
Qu Ke looked a little disappointed. “Huh? Why? Isn’t he Dad’s best friend?”
Qu Tongqiu patted her head gently. He was Ren Ningyuan’s best friend—but that did not mean he was Ren Ningyuan’s. Children did not understand such things.
That evening, when the two of them went out, they were shocked by the crowds. It was still early for dinner, yet in the lively area near their home, every halfway-decent restaurant was full—no empty tables anywhere, reservation signs placed on every surface.
Back in his small hometown, restaurants were rarely this packed. Even during holidays, as long as you went early, there was always a seat. They did not know that in T City, on days like this, reservations were absolutely necessary.
Not having their own car made things worse. Wanting to try another area, they found buses already so full the doors could barely close, while crowds on the roadside craned their necks, fighting for taxis.
The whole city seemed overcrowded. Qu Tongqiu struggled through several rides with his daughter, spotting a few small eateries along the street that didn’t seem too busy. But he also knew that any place still empty at a time like this was not somewhere you should expect decent food.
After squeezing onto buses and wandering around for so long, they still had nowhere to eat. He had only wanted to cheer his daughter up by taking her somewhere nicer—who would have thought he’d end up making her suffer instead? Feeling distressed, he said, “Let’s go home first. Dad will cook for you—just make do tonight, okay? I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.”
Qu Ke nodded obediently. Qu Tongqiu still felt guilty and rubbed her head.
While waiting by the roadside for a ride, the phone in his pocket suddenly vibrated. He took it out—it was Ren Ningyuan.
“Hello.”
“Where are you?”
“On XX Road. We’re about to head home.”
“Didn’t find anywhere to eat?”
“Yeah. Too many people.”
Ren Ningyuan was silent for a moment. “It’s inconvenient to go back now. I’m not far from you—there are seats here. Bring Qu Ke over.”
The restaurant Ren Ningyuan mentioned was within walking distance. Qu Tongqiu led an excited Qu Ke up in the elevator, and sure enough saw the man in a dark top sitting by the window, slowly sipping his tea, casually watching the night cityscape below.
After greetings, the father and daughter sat down opposite him. The table—big enough for six—felt spacious and comfortable, with just the right distance between people. Three full place settings were already laid out, along with appetizers and neatly packaged mooncakes, all in sets of three. Qu Tongqiu hadn’t expected Ren Ningyuan to prepare so thoughtfully for them. Warmth surged in his chest, and he felt deeply grateful.
“By the way,” he asked, “didn’t you have dinner plans with friends?”
Ren Ningyuan gestured for him to look at the menu, then smiled. “Those two had something come up. They’re not coming.”
Qu Tongqiu let out a small “Ah,” finally realizing that the extra place settings and snacks were meant for those two friends, and that he and his daughter were simply filling the gap left by their absence. Thinking of his earlier self-assumption, he felt embarrassed and hurriedly put the mooncake he had been examining back down.
The dishes arrived quickly. Qu Ke was starving and ate happily with her head down. Qu Tongqiu focused on serving her food and cracking crab shells, his hands busy—yet somehow feeling unusually tongue-tied.
A man who had married and become a father could no longer call out “Boss, Boss” like he did in his youth, shamelessly following Ren Ningyuan around. Middle-aged closeness—he didn’t know how to do it.
Nervousness made him want to shake his leg, but that would be rude. So while peeling crab, he unconsciously rubbed his calf back and forth against the table leg under the table.
He had peeled more than half when he noticed Ren Ningyuan looking at him, brows slightly furrowed, expression complicated. Suddenly he realized that what he’d been rubbing against repeatedly was Ren Ningyuan’s leg. His whole body stiffened at once.
“Uh…” Before he could think of anything to ease the awkwardness, someone behind them said, “Ningyuan, let’s just eat here. That boat restaurant—what nonsense. The rocking makes me sick.”
Ren Ningyuan seemed surprised. He looked up, put down his chopsticks. Qu Tongqiu had no time to react before another voice chimed in, “Already made plans with other friends? You move fast, you know.”
Qu Tongqiu turned around. Two tall men stood there, both strikingly handsome. One wore a smile—his mood clearly not bad, though there was a faint hint of ferocity in his eyes. The other raised an eyebrow slightly; his overly straight nose was unforgettable, and even the curve of his lips carried arrogance.
They looked familiar. Qu Tongqiu could only smile politely for the moment, but the cold-looking man suddenly narrowed his eyes and stared at him fiercely, as if in a very bad mood.
They locked eyes for a long moment. Just as recognition dawned on Qu Tongqiu, the man spoke in an odd tone, “You’re Qu Tongqiu?”
“…Zhuang Wei!” Qu Tongqiu pushed his chair back and stood up, facing a classmate he hadn’t seen in over ten years, so excited he didn’t know what to do.
“When did you come back?”
“Just two days ago,” Chu Mo said. After so many years, they were all relatively steady middle-aged men now, and Chu Mo was far friendlier than in their school days. “You—when did you come to T City?”
“About a month ago,” Qu Tongqiu rubbed his hands, looking at the two men. “Wow… you guys… you’re not quite the same as before.”
Chu Mo laughed loudly and patted his shoulder. “You aren’t either. You’ve slimmed down completely! What now, 120 pounds?”
Zhuang Wei looked displeased. “You’ve been here that long already? Ningyuan, running into an old classmate and you didn’t even mention it to us.”
Ren Ningyuan wiped his hands with a napkin, called the waiter over to add two more place settings, and smiled. “You make it sound like you haven’t seen any classmates all these years. Once you see one, you end up helping them with things—haven’t you already found that annoying? Next week I’m hosting a junior, helping him with interview recommendations. Interested in eating together then?”
Qu Tongqiu suddenly felt his face heat up. He too was one of those poor classmates who had relied on Ren Ningyuan’s help to settle temporarily in T City. Even this Mid-Autumn reunion dinner was thanks to him.
Perhaps Ren Ningyuan had helped too many people—any guest from afar would be received the same way, one more or one less making no difference. Still, that sense of burden suddenly pressed on his chest.
“Let’s sit and eat first,” Ren Ningyuan said with a smile. “There’s a little lady we haven’t introduced yet.”
Qu Ke, who had been quietly listening, blinked her eyes. Zhuang Wei and Chu Mo both looked at her.
“This is…”
Qu Tongqiu hurried to say, “This is my daughter, Qu Ke. She’s fourteen this year, here in T City for school. Ke, this is Uncle Chu Mo, and this is Uncle Zhuang Wei.”
Both “uncles” stared at him.
Chu Mo said, “What? You have a daughter? Is she really yours?”
Qu Tongqiu was mortified. Even Ren Ningyuan gave a wry smile. “Even if you seriously doubt it, you shouldn’t say it to his face.”
Chu Mo shrugged. “What’s the problem? No need to be polite, right? Honestly, back in college, I once suspected you were secretly in love with Ningyuan.”
Ren Ningyuan choked. Qu Tongqiu froze. “W-what…?”
“Didn’t you keep Ningyuan’s photo in your wallet? Gayer than gay. You even hugged it when you slept at night—wouldn’t let go…”
Qu Tongqiu hurriedly covered his daughter’s ears with both hands, embarrassed and anxious. “There’s a child here—can you not joke about this kind of thing?”
With her ears covered, Qu Ke widened her eyes, rolling them around curiously, looking extremely adorable.
Chu Mo sighed again. “She doesn’t look like you at all.”
Qu Tongqiu was almost mortified into anger and hurriedly retorted, “She looks like her mother, but her chin is like mine.”
Zhuang Wei stared at him for a while. “You’re married?”
“Yeah…” Qu Tongqiu felt puzzled. A man in his thirties being married was perfectly normal—being unmarried was what would be odd. “You’re not married?”
Ren Ningyuan cleared his throat.
Qu Tongqiu suddenly remembered the ambiguous moments he had witnessed between the two of them back in their student days. There had been hints even then, but he had never imagined it would truly be settled in adulthood, that they would openly be homosexuals. The realization left him surprised and awkward, his smile stiffening. “Uh… n-not getting married is fine too…”
Zhuang Wei frowned, snorted, picked up his wine glass, leaned back against his chair, and stopped talking.
Chu Mo took a sip of wine and asked, “Then where’s your wife? Why didn’t she come eat with you?”
Qu Tongqiu felt his hand covering his daughter’s ears go numb. “We… divorced many years ago.”
The atmosphere at the table immediately turned less relaxed. Ren Ningyuan beckoned to Qu Ke, motioning her over, then tore off a slip from the table and handed it to her. “Take this and go try your luck over there with the dice game. Win Uncle Ren a champion prize, hm?”
Qu Ke swung her long braid and bounced off happily—after all, she was still a child. Qu Tongqiu felt deeply grateful for Ren Ningyuan’s thoughtfulness. No matter how you looked at it, such topics were unpleasant for a child.
“You raised a little girl by yourself? She’s already fourteen—how old were you when you became a dad? With your education, couldn’t you find a decent job? Being a single parent isn’t easy, right?”
Qu Tongqiu was used to Chu Mo’s bluntness and answered calmly, “It’s okay. As long as you’re frugal, it works. Now that Little Ke is older and well-behaved, it’s much easier.”
“Doesn’t your ex-wife pay child support?”
“Uh, no need. I wanted to raise her myself. I can manage.”
“But that makes no sense, emotionally or logically. She just left you two like that?”
“It’s… not exactly like that. She had her own difficulties. Anyway, we’re doing fine.”
Only after a long time could he say it so lightly.
Back then, they had only been married three years, still deeply in love, when his wife suddenly told him she wanted a divorce. Even now, thinking about it made his vision darken.
Yang Miao had cried as she told him, “I’m sorry. I really do like you, but there’s someone else. No matter what, I can’t forget him. I can’t keep lying to myself. I don’t know if you can understand.”
Liking someone suitable for marriage, yet loving someone else—what kind of feeling was that?
The last thing Yang Miao said was, “I don’t need your forgiveness. I wronged you. You can take anything you want.”
He took Qu Ke. Everything else he left behind.
Though he never truly understood, he had no choice but to bear it silently. Often, this was what people called growth—helpless acceptance.
“Forget it, there’s no point talking about that now. You’ve already raised your daughter this big,” Chu Mo said. “So—do you plan to remarry?”
“Ah…” Qu Tongqiu hesitated. “I haven’t thought about it… probably not. It’s fine with just me and Little Ke. A woman who likes children and doesn’t mind Little Ke not being her own wouldn’t be easy to find. With my conditions, I don’t have the right to be picky. Staying single suits me better.”
With a half-grown daughter in tow, he didn’t dare remarry casually. The thought of hurting his young daughter made him choose to stay single year after year. By now, he had long lost any passion for romance or marriage.
“That may be true, but you’re a healthy man. You must have needs, right? Don’t you find ways to deal with them?”
Qu Tongqiu’s mouth twitched; his face turned red. “Th-that kind of thing…”
“Even if you don’t remarry, you must have girlfriends, right?”
“I…”
“Then what do you rely on to deal with those needs?”
Pressed too hard, Qu Tongqiu blurted out, “I-it’s not that necessary…”
Chu Mo laughed so hard he nearly choked. Zhuang Wei drank his wine with a strange expression, while Ren Ningyuan also smiled faintly. Qu Tongqiu was deeply embarrassed, but he wasn’t lying. Desire comes after warmth and fullness. A middle-aged man scrambling to make a living, with a teenage daughter to worry about, really didn’t have much time or energy to think about such things.
Right in the middle of the awkwardness, Qu Ke bounced back. “Dad, I didn’t win the biggest champion prize—just missed it. But the person who won gave me the prize. Can I take it?”
Qu Tongqiu panicked and was about to chase after them, but the figure Qu Ke pointed to had already walked away. Fortunately, though the prize amount looked shockingly large, it was just a pastry gift card from the restaurant. Presumably, many rich kids weren’t interested in eating this restaurant’s desserts for a whole month straight.
“Next time, remember not to take things from strangers so easily. There’s no such thing as a free lunch—everything requires something in return. Understand?”
Qu Ke said “Oh” to show she understood, then thought for a moment and added, “But Dad, you accept everything Uncle Ren gives you.”
Qu Tongqiu froze. After a long pause, he said awkwardly, “Dad… will repay him in the future.”
Ren Ningyuan smiled. “Little Ke, don’t tease your dad.”
The group reminisced over dinner, listening to Zhuang Wei and Chu Mo talk about their experiences in the U.S. Only then did Qu Tongqiu realize that, aside from himself, everyone else seemed to be working in fields completely unrelated to what they had studied.
Ren Ningyuan, who ran a host club, needed no explanation. Chu Mo appeared to run a logistics company, though what went on behind the scenes was hard to say. Zhuang Wei had become the executive editor of a famous fashion magazine and had even held a personal photography exhibition just last month.
Among classmates from back then, by this age, most people—even if not as glamorous as these three—had achieved something in their careers.
Qu Tongqiu was probably the most ordinary of them all. He hadn’t finished college, returned to his hometown just to survive, found a rough job, then spent years running himself ragged to earn milk money, caught every day between diapers and company paperwork. Just when his daughter turned two and stopped crying through the night or falling ill so easily, he and his wife divorced.
His most precious years of youth had passed in haste and chaos. By the time he finally stopped to look up, he realized how far behind he was from everyone else.
Yet he didn’t feel regretful. Steadily rising to a management position in a small company, supporting his family, putting his daughter through college, staying safe and healthy—that was enough.
Still, sitting at this table, he was the only one who looked worn and tired, unmistakably middle-aged. Many of the topics the others talked about were ones he couldn’t join in on, which made him feel a little embarrassed by comparison.
After dinner, they went to the restaurant terrace to admire the moonlight through the glass ceiling, tasted mooncakes and fragrant tea as the occasion demanded, ate watermelon, and enjoyed themselves. It was about time to part ways.
Ren Ningyuan went to settle the bill. The group entered the elevator. It was still early, and outside was lively—the warm-up before T City’s nightlife officially began.
“Since it’s rare for us to get together, let’s go for a drink,” Zhuang Wei suggested.
“Sure, let’s hit a club,” Chu Mo immediately agreed.
Qu Tongqiu held onto his daughter and hurriedly said, “Sorry, I won’t go.”
Ren Ningyuan glanced at him. “You’re not coming? It’s been a long time since you drank, hasn’t it? You don’t need to worry about Little Ke—I’ll have someone take her home first.”
“Uh…” Though they were the same age, a man who was a father lived very differently from these golden bachelors.
“Well, Little Ke goes back to school tomorrow afternoon. I have to get up early, buy some things, cook some food, and bake a few cakes for her to take to school.”
Chu Mo laughed loudly. “T University isn’t the middle of nowhere—what can’t you buy there? You’re really bringing stuff all that way? You’re acting like a woman.”
Zhuang Wei frowned, displeased. “Married men with kids are all like this. Forget it if he’s not coming. Let’s go.”
Qu Tongqiu smiled awkwardly and repeatedly said, “I’ll treat you guys to drinks next time,” but Zhuang Wei still looked unhappy, his face drawn long.
“It’s fine. They’ll be staying in T City for a while—there’ll be plenty of chances,” Ren Ningyuan said with a smile. “I’ll take you and Little Ke home first.”
Even now, he was still so gentle, polite, and thorough—like a perfect mannequin. Whenever Qu Tongqiu was alone with him, he always felt uneasy, unsure what to say.
But with Qu Ke around, the atmosphere became much livelier. As soon as she got into the car, she refused to sit properly in the back seat, stuffing her head between the two men in front and chattering nonstop. Qu Tongqiu half-seriously scolded her, “You talk too much—don’t distract Uncle Ren while he’s driving.”
Ren Ningyuan smiled. “It’s fine. I like listening to her.”
With three people in the car, it felt warm and harmonious.
“Oh, right,” Ren Ningyuan suddenly said while waiting at a red light. “There’s something I want to discuss with you.”
“Ah, go ahead.”
“I’ve had some business to deal with on the east side of the city lately. It’s a long drive and not always convenient. Your place is closer.”
Qu Tongqiu immediately understood. “Oh, you’re too polite. This was your place to begin with. I haven’t even returned the company dorm yet. Moving back is easy—I’ll pack up tomorrow.”
Ren Ningyuan smiled. “That’s not what I mean. You don’t need to move.”
“Ah?”
“I don’t need to go there every day. Little Ke is only around on weekends, and there’s an empty bedroom on weekdays. Squeezing in once in a while is fine, isn’t it?”
Qu Tongqiu again felt unexpectedly favored. “Y-yes. As long as you don’t mind.”
After returning home, Qu Ke placed the intricately carved phoenix-shaped watermelon rind she had brought back from the restaurant on the table, admiring it from every angle and exclaiming, “Dad, look! It’s so pretty.”
Qu Tongqiu smiled as he watched her play, feeling a faint ache in his heart. At times like this, he truly felt he wasn’t a good father—what he could give his daughter was so limited. The watermelon rind that made her this happy, and even the bedroom where she could sleep peacefully, were all thanks to Ren Ningyuan.
“Dad, do you really want to go out drinking with them? You don’t have to worry so much about me—I can take care of myself. Next time someone invites you, just go.”
“Heh, Dad doesn’t like drinking. Dad likes staying home and watching TV.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Starting a family early meant missing out on and sacrificing many things. But thinking that he was still young enough to see his daughter marry and have children—and maybe even live to see his grandchildren marry and have children—made him feel deeply fortunate and content.
Qu Ke rolled over on the sofa. “Dad, would it have been better if you’d had me later? Then you could’ve gone out and played with Uncle Ren and the others.”
Qu Tongqiu laughed. “Having children earlier is better.”
“Why?”
“So that when you’re building your career and family—when life and work are the hardest—Dad will still be in his prime, healthy, not retired yet, and won’t become a burden to you.”
“What are you talking about? Dad isn’t a burden at all,” Qu Ke said, pouting as she moved closer and hugged his arm tightly.
Qu Tongqiu stroked his daughter’s hair. He remembered the first time he had held that wailing baby from the nurse—such a fragile little creature in his hands, one wrong move and he could hurt her. Not knowing what was right or safe, he had raised her amid constant fear and uncertainty.
Now, though his youth had faded, he had gained a healthy, lively life in return. This was the most precious treasure time had left him.
After seeing Qu Ke off, the following days returned to the dull busyness of workdays—eating boxed lunches from the shop downstairs, cleaning and tidying the apartment every night in preparation for Ren Ningyuan’s possible arrival.
Yet Ren Ningyuan never appeared, and each night before sleep, a sense of emptiness crept in.
That evening, while watching social news on TV and drifting off, the doorbell suddenly rang loudly. Qu Tongqiu jumped up at once, not daring to delay. He didn’t even have time to put on slippers before rushing to open the door.
“Bo—” He swallowed the word halfway.
Standing outside was a tall, lean man, his face forever wearing a faintly displeased, critical expression. He wore rather flamboyant boots that made him look even taller. Habitually frowning, he looked down at Qu Tongqiu.
“Zhuang Wei? How did you find this place?”
