Chapter 44: Gentle Comfort
Fu Rangyi searched two streets before finally finding a small noodle shop that had not yet relocated or closed down. The owner was very kind and filled a large paper bowl with hot water for him, refusing to take any money no matter what.
So Fu Rangyi carried that bowl of water all the way back, walking quickly. Only when he saw that beautiful white sedan, so out of place on this street, did his uneasy heart finally settle a little.
As soon as he approached, the car window rolled down. Zhu Zhixi smiled and stuck half his head out, waving at him as though the discomfort from earlier had completely passed. The water had already cooled to warm. Fu Rangyi watched Zhu Zhixi drink it down sip by sip. Only then did his delayed senses slowly return, and he clenched his fingers, reddened by the steam.
“Thank you.” Zhu Zhixi’s eyes were red at the corners, and his eyelids were a little swollen, making the red mole there look even more obvious, as if it had spread out faintly.
Fu Rangyi looked away. “Feeling better?”
“Mm. Shall we go home?”
Fu Rangyi nodded.
On the way back, Zhu Zhixi kept talking to him about everything under the sun, deliberately avoiding what had happened earlier. Many times, Fu Rangyi felt that Zhu Zhixi was especially clear-sighted. He could always pierce through disguises with a single strike and point straight at the softest, weakest part of him.
But Zhu Zhixi’s clarity was also exceedingly kind. Even after he had dug it up and seen it, he would gently cover everything back over, then use a not particularly skillful method to change the subject.
“Fu Rangyi, look at this snowflake! Such a perfect hexagon.”
There was only one intersection left before home. At the traffic light, Fu Rangyi looked at the snowflake he was pointing at, then finally shifted his gaze away and looked at him instead.
“If only snowflakes could be kept forever…” Zhu Zhixi murmured to himself.
Hearing this, Fu Rangyi thought of a sentence he used to repeat to warn himself over and over again—forcing himself to hold on to things he could not obtain would only make his life more painful.
“Mm.” He also repeated softly, “If only… they could be kept forever.”
Still, he had not improved at all.
From the moment he met Zhu Zhixi, from speaking coldly to him, acting half-truthfully and half-falsely, going along with their interactions despite himself, to the self-tug-of-war after his susceptible period, sounding the alarm bells for himself yet still being unable to hold back; indulging his every request, changing himself for him, learning from scratch how to care, how to communicate, then once again—this time most thoroughly—laying himself bare, completely, without a single secret left.
All of it was because he wanted to keep this person.
Every single time, it was like this. Whenever he wanted something especially badly, wanted it to belong to him, a terrifying bad premonition would begin to appear, making him feel that he was about to lose it.
So the thing ringing had never been an alarm bell. It was the bell in Pavlov’s hand.
Trying to make something stay had already become his stereotyped behavior.
He had no way to deal with himself, and even felt a little discouraged. So after they returned home, Fu Rangyi shut himself in the bathroom, turned on the water, showered, and washed away all those excessive emotions and desires. When he felt he had once again returned to his usual self and pushed the door open, he saw Zhu Zhixi, who had changed into pajamas.
Fu Rangyi froze for a moment. His gaze moved from Zhu Zhixi’s face down to his body. Zhu Zhixi was wearing the cream-white pajamas he had bought.
He looked clean and soft, his ears and finger joints tinted with a faint pink. He stepped closer, lifted his face, and asked quietly, “Are you tired?”
Fu Rangyi lowered his eyes and stared at the teeth revealed when he spoke. “Why are you speaking so softly? It isn’t even dark yet.”
Zhu Zhixi’s voice became even softer. “Because I’m pretending it’s already ten o’clock, and I want to invite you to sleep with me.”
“What?” Fu Rangyi found this somewhat baffling.
“Shh.” Zhu Zhixi held his wrist. “I don’t know if you’re tired, but I’m exhausted. And the countdown is jumping really fast again. It’s affecting my mood. I definitely won’t sleep well. You have to help me.”
He finished all of that in one breath, then smiled and said softly, “Just pretend we’re in America today. Come on.”
And so, Fu Rangyi was pulled into the guest bedroom. Watching Zhu Zhixi push the door open directly, he actually felt an urge to make up for it with a door-knocking ritual.
The room was dim. The curtains were drawn tightly shut. The light inside the tent was on, filling that little haven with light, turning it into a large yellow lantern. An aromatherapy candle burned by the bedside, its flame flickering slightly and giving off a faint scent. It was like lavender, and also like bergamot, warm and soothing; in any case, it was not the sandalwood incense used to suppress pheromones.
Zhu Zhixi closed the door and pulled him to the bedside. He lifted a corner of the blanket and made an inviting gesture. “Please.”
Fu Rangyi said, “I thought you were inviting me to sleep in the tent.”
“Of course not. The tent is so small.”
Fu Rangyi said mildly, “Every time I come to your room, I sleep in the tent.”
He heard Zhu Zhixi mutter under his breath, “Was what you did there really sleeping…”
But very quickly, Zhu Zhixi cleared his throat and pulled the topic, which Fu Rangyi had led astray, back on track. “My blanket is super soft and comfortable. Are you going to try it or not?”
He had no reason to refuse.
Zhu Zhixi’s duvet cover and bedsheets were both fluffy. When Fu Rangyi lay down in them, he had the illusion that his whole body had sunk into a hot spring. Soon, another guest entered the hot spring, pushing aside the ripples formed by folds of fabric and moving closer to him. An arm reached out, groped around under the covers for a while, and finally, with a click, removed his bracelet.
“I told you, the first thing you’re supposed to do when you come in is take this off and put it in its box.” Zhu Zhixi stretched his hand out from under the covers, set the bracelet on the bedside table, then turned back and lay face-to-face with him. “You’re home, but you won’t let it go home?”
Fu Rangyi had not taken off his glasses. He quietly watched him, looking at every small detail on his face, every subtle expression.
Until Zhu Zhixi moved closer again, almost touching the tip of his nose. “Are you listening to me?”
“Mm. I’ll remember next time.”
Fu Rangyi smelled faint fragrance—the aromatherapy candle in the room, the fruity scent coming from Zhu Zhixi’s skin, the light scent of toner on his cheeks. These scents seemed to be Zhu Zhixi’s pheromones, soothing his emotions.
Zhu Zhixi’s black eyes were still so bright in the dim light.
He blinked, then suddenly reached out and gently took off Fu Rangyi’s glasses, putting them on himself.
Fu Rangyi reminded him, “Four hundred and fifty degrees.”
“I can tell.” Zhu Zhixi squinted, not daring to fully open his eyes, and laughed. “You’re distorted.”
“How do I look wearing your glasses? Do I look good?”
Fu Rangyi said, “I don’t know. I can’t see clearly.”
Zhu Zhixi froze for a second, then was amused by him.
He looked beautiful when he laughed, Fu Rangyi thought.
“I’m going to get a pair of identical non-prescription glasses.” He took the glasses off, carefully folded them, and placed them beside the bracelet.
Fu Rangyi’s heartbeat slowly quickened, but he realized Zhu Zhixi did not seem to think these actions were particularly ambiguous.
Sure enough, Zhu Zhixi shrank back under the covers, then stretched out his arms. “I want a hug.”
Without waiting for Fu Rangyi’s answer, he burrowed over on his own, squeezing in front of Fu Rangyi’s chest, burying his face in the hollow of his shoulder, and pulling Fu Rangyi’s arm over to place it around his waist.
His scent enveloped him. Fu Rangyi hesitated for a moment, then pressed the tip of his nose against Zhu Zhixi’s soft neck and deeply inhaled the scent from his skin. His arm tightened along with it.
Perhaps it was an illusion, but he could feel a faint breath brushing against the back of his neck. Zhu Zhixi seemed to be sniffing too, smelling the pheromones he himself could not sense.
“Close your eyes.” Zhu Zhixi gently rubbed the short hair at the back of his head, then his nape and spine. “Have a good sleep.”
Fu Rangyi closed his eyes. After a while, he asked in a low voice, “You’ve been to so many places. Are there any you especially liked?”
Hearing this question, Zhu Zhixi thought for a while. “Mm… yes. There are a lot of places that are very, very beautiful, so beautiful they don’t seem like Earth.”
His fingers drew gentle circles on Fu Rangyi’s back as he began a fantastical description: snowy mountains, sinkholes, glaciers, galloping herds of horses, little penguin chicks lining up to jump into the water, magnificent coral reefs beneath jelly-like seas, red sand dunes at sunset, crimson lava from an active volcano at night, the mysterious morning mist of the Borneo rainforest, a golden sunrise beneath sky-covering fog, and the legendary “God of the Rainforest”—the hornbill—spreading its wings and flying over his head…
Fu Rangyi listened quietly, finding the corresponding images for every place—segments of video he had watched late at night. Compared to those dazzling landscapes, what seemed to leave the deepest impression was Zhu Zhixi’s vibrant smile and loud opening in every video: “Mom, look—”
“Do you want to go?” Zhu Zhixi said, suddenly nuzzling the back of his ear with the tip of his nose, even his words tempting him. “Which one do you want to go to? I’ll take you next time.”
His gland was brushed. Warm breath surged up again. Fu Rangyi could not help but dodge a little.
Beta Student was completely unaware of his boundary-crossing behavior and even cupped Fu Rangyi’s face, refusing to let him hide. “So many beautiful places, and you don’t want to see any of them? Aren’t you way too much of a homebody…”
Before he could finish, Fu Rangyi kissed the rarest wonder he wanted most to see.
It was a kiss as light as a dragonfly touching water, stopping after only the briefest taste. Fu Rangyi calmed his breathing, drew back from those soft lips, and said quietly, “I don’t have many holidays. I’ll have to think about it carefully.”
After being kissed, Zhu Zhixi suddenly became especially quiet.
“It seems like it’s still snowing outside…” He began looking for something to say again.
“Mm.”
“Fu Rangyi.” His fingers crawled upward and hooked around Fu Rangyi’s collar, the tips faintly damp. “What are the glutinous rice balls you mentioned like?”
“Are you hungry?” Fu Rangyi held his restless fingers and gently enclosed them in his palm.
“I’m just a little curious.” He asked, “Are they… like tangyuan?”
“No.” Fu Rangyi closed his eyes and thought for a moment. “They’re dumplings made by pounding cooked glutinous rice. Very sticky and soft, with a little bit of rice grain texture. Inside, they’re filled with sesame, crushed peanuts, and white sugar. They’re rolled until round and plump, and a small red dot is placed on the skin.”
“On the glutinous rice skin?” Zhu Zhixi asked.
“Mm.” He emphasized, “It has to be dotted right in the center.”
Zhu Zhixi gave a long “Mm,” then said, “They sound really delicious. Make them for me next time.”
“Okay.”
Holding his hand, with Zhu Zhixi gently stroking his shoulders and back, Fu Rangyi closed his eyes and returned once more to his childhood. The lid of the steamer was lifted, steam billowing out. Little dumplings filled the tray, plump and plentiful. Children lined up in a row, each holding a small bowl in their hands.
He stood at the very end of the line, rising onto his tiptoes to look ahead, waiting obediently.
Just as he was about to fall asleep, his lips moved faintly through his exhaustion. “Zhu Zhixi…”
“Mm?”
“In the future, don’t keep talking about death, okay?”
His consciousness was too hazy. He felt as though Zhu Zhixi had said “okay,” but he could not be completely sure.
The aromatherapy candle burned down to its end. The room grew so quiet that only long, steady breathing remained.
Zhu Zhixi opened his eyes and tentatively called Fu Rangyi’s name in a very soft voice.
There was no response. He had fallen asleep, deeply, deeply asleep, still gripping Zhu Zhixi’s left hand. Their interlaced fingers still could not block the glow of the countdown.
Zhu Zhixi moved a little closer, withdrew the right hand that had been stroking Fu Rangyi’s back, and held it in front of Fu Rangyi’s face. Keeping a little distance, he carefully traced downward: brow bone, nose tip, cupid’s bow, sketching out his entire face bit by bit, as if playing some game where touching him would mean failure.
Mom, look.
This is the person I like.
A very good-looking little bitter gourd.
After tracing him three times, Zhu Zhixi lifted the hand Fu Rangyi was holding. Fu Rangyi moved slightly, so Zhu Zhixi immediately stopped every motion in alertness.
But soon, Fu Rangyi fell asleep again, like a robot whose battery had run out.
Zhu Zhixi lifted his hand, lowered his head, and kissed his tightly clasped fingers very lightly. He pushed the pajama sleeve up to Fu Rangyi’s elbow, lowered himself as well, leaned closer, and kissed those scars, deep and shallow.
Finally, he nestled into Fu Rangyi’s chest and spoke almost soundlessly, pressing his voice against that thumping heartbeat.
“Nian Nian.”
“Nian Nian.”
Mom, this is his name.
He repeated it many times.
“Please bless him with a good dream.”
As though placed under some spell, Fu Rangyi had the best dream of his life. Even though, in the dream, his fate was not changed in any way, Zhu Zhixi appeared very early. Carrying a schoolbag, he bumped into Fu Rangyi, who was riding a bicycle to school. Then he suddenly turned unreasonable and said Fu Rangyi had almost killed him and had to take responsibility.
His differentiation into a Beta was also Fu Rangyi’s fault. If he had not been bumped like that, he definitely would have become an Alpha. The villain in the dream said this.
At every painful turning point in his life, there was an inexplicable Beta. When someone he did not like confessed to him, Zhu Zhixi descended from the sky, beating gongs and drums, ding-ding, dang-dang…
Fu Rangyi frowned. That sound was too real. It directly pierced through the dream.
In the haze, he opened his eyes. After a few seconds, he reacted, then dazedly reached out to feel the space beside him. There was no one else on the bed but him. Even the blanket instantly stopped feeling so soft and warm.
And that ding-ding, dang-dang sound continued, coming through the door. Only then did Fu Rangyi realize he had been woken up by the noise.
What was he doing? Without even putting on his glasses, Fu Rangyi sleepily slipped into his slippers and pushed open the door to go outside. The hallway was brightly lit. He was not used to it and narrowed his eyes.
Then he suddenly heard Zhu Zhixi’s voice, extremely loud, and seemingly a little embarrassed.
“Fu Rangyi! Go back!”
Fu Rangyi had no idea what was going on. But after receiving such an emotionally intense order, he instinctively turned around and walked back.
He pushed open the door, returned to the bedside, and sat down. Zhu Zhixi’s shouting outside had not ended yet.
“Don’t come out! You can only come out when I call you—”
He nodded and pinched his own arm.
Not a dream.
Fu Rangyi obediently waited for a while and found that the waiting time was longer than he had imagined. So he got up and washed his face. Then he quietly pulled open the curtain of the tent. Sure enough, it was once again piled full of Zhu Zhixi’s clothes.
He sat amid the pile of clothes. After hesitating for a moment, he lay down, buried his face in them, and inhaled seriously.
Until a knock sounded on the door.
“You can come out now.”
Only then did he calmly climb up, spread the clothes out a little to restore them to their original state, pull the curtain shut, and pretend to be composed as he left the room and came to the living room.
Outside the floor-to-ceiling window, snowflakes drifted thickly through the dark night. The living room was warm. He narrowed his eyes and felt that the kitchen was a mess. Zhu Zhixi stood in the middle of it, doing who knew what, as busy as if he were tap-dancing.
When Zhu Zhixi saw him come out, he immediately stopped, smiling as he untied the apron on his body and pulled Fu Rangyi to the dining table. “Sit.”
Fu Rangyi sat according to the order. There was a bowl of something on the table. It was covered with a lid, so he could not see what it was.
“You cooked this for me?” he asked.
“Yep.” Zhu Zhixi lifted the lid for him. “Ta-da—this is my comfort food, luffa chicken soup noodles. Whenever I’m drifting around outside and I feel really tired or unhappy, I really want to eat this.”
To be honest, it did not look very good. Fu Rangyi held back from saying that. “It smells very fragrant.”
“Right?” Zhu Zhixi handed him chopsticks and a spoon. “Hurry and try it.”
Fu Rangyi picked up a piece of luffa and narrowed his eyes, studying it for a long time. “This is the first time I’ve seen someone cut luffa like this.” It was neither cut into rolling chunks nor sliced diagonally, but cut straight across vertically.
“Don’t you think it’s cute this way?” Zhu Zhixi pushed his own bowl over. A pile of round luffa slices floated on top. “Look, every piece of luffa has an expression. They’re smiling.”
Fu Rangyi stared at the luffa faces for a while. “They’re smiling like bitter gourds.”
“Are you eating or not?”
He stopped talking, lowered his head, and just as he was about to take his first bite, he suddenly patted himself. His phone was not there. He could not take a photo.
But this was the first time Zhu Zhixi had cooked for him.
He lifted his head and asked, “Did you take pictures of these luffa emojis?”
Zhu Zhixi smiled, pressing his lips together as he nodded many times. “Hehe, you guessed it.”
Fu Rangyi lowered his head and ate the noodles. “Send them to me.”
“What for?”
“They’re funny. I’ll send them to Li Qiao.”
Different from its appearance, this bowl of noodles was even better than expected. The soup base was warm and carried the light sweetness of luffa. After eating a few bites, he discovered there was a poached egg nestled underneath.
To him, a poached egg was an extremely distant metaphor. He had only seen it in films and essays, where it usually represented a kind of ordinary yet heartwarming care.
He bit into the soft egg, and the sourness in his heart flowed out together with the runny yolk.
“Is it good?” Zhu Zhixi said. “My mom taught me this. It’s the only dish I know how to make. When I was little, if I got hungry at night or felt unhappy, she would cook this for me. After eating it, I’d feel really happy and satisfied.”
Fu Rangyi could imagine that scene.
“It’s very good.” He told the truth, but did not lift his head. “I’ve never had it before. Thank you.”
“Mm… then…” A new comfort food appeared in the center of the dining table. “I hope you’ll think this tastes good too.”
Fu Rangyi looked up and froze.
It was a round, plump glutinous rice dumpling, with a little red dot placed right in the center.
His gaze moved upward sluggishly, landing on Zhu Zhixi’s half-lowered eyelids and that tiny mole.
Zhu Zhixi was very embarrassed and started rambling, as if reciting a disclaimer. “I spent ages making it just now, and this is the only one that barely looks okay. I dug the filling out of tangyuan. I don’t know how to make filling, but I steamed the rice myself, and I pounded it too. As for the red dot, I didn’t know what they used to dot the ones you ate before, so I squeezed strawberry juice onto it, but it spread out. Then I had no choice but to cut off a tiny strawberry tip and put it on top. Is it in the exact center? My eyes are numb from staring. I can’t tell if it’s crooked anymore…”
Zhu Zhixi’s hair had been rubbed into a mess, and he was terribly nervous. He pushed the little plate in front of Fu Rangyi, cleared his throat, and began to recite his official line.
“It’s snowing. Have a little dumpling.”
“You’re not allowed to dislike it. You’re the only one who gets one.”
Author’s Note:
—What Little Zhu did to blow up the kitchen after Professor Fu fell asleep—
- Carefully selected ingredients on an app, and incidentally bought a bunch of snacks that were absolutely not part of the plan.
- Steamed glutinous rice, cut peanut-filled tangyuan and black sesame tangyuan in half, and dug out the filling.
Little Zhu: I’m such a genius! - Cooked chicken soup. Did not know how to cook it. Called Dad to ask.
- Cut the luffa. After cutting it, laughed for three minutes. Sent it to Xiao’En and Big Zhu. Big Zhu replied instantly, and the two argued on WeChat for two minutes.
- Ding-ding, dang-dang, pounded rice cake. Pound, pound, pound.
Little Zhu: Die, damn LTP teacher. Die, die. - Kneaded sticky glutinous rice dumplings.
Little Zhu: Huh? Why is it all sticking to the gloves… What do I do? Let me check a tutorial. Oh, I need to dip my hands in water! Wait, why has it turned runny… - Steamed the dumplings.
Little Zhu, exhausted into blankness, wondered whether he should just wrap cooked tangyuan inside the glutinous rice. It was all glutinous rice anyway. Surely no one would be able to tell… - Selected the qualified dumpling, squeezed strawberry juice, dripped strawberry juice. Failed. Failed. Failed… Cut a tiny strawberry tip…
- Chased away the half-awake Professor Fu, boiled noodles, scooped out noodles, and jumped around after getting scalded.
- Ate with Professor Fu and secretly photographed him eating noodles. Said his line to him: “It’s snowing. Have a little dumpling…”
And silently added five words in his heart:
“Nian Nian, little kid.”
