Chapter 59

“Slapping mosquitoes!”

“Looking for my glasses.”

Lu Wenyuan gave them a strange look, his gaze deeply meaningful. “Isn’t that glasses right in your hand?”

Lu Qingyuan felt a chill run down his spine under that stare. Amidst the tension, a guilty, thrilling excitement arose, like a thief with a guilty conscience.

Chen Annan quickly stepped in to change the subject. “Uncle, my forehead is really itchy. Help me check if a mosquito bit it, it’s so itchy.”

He scratched as he spoke, quickly raising a red patch on his forehead. Lu Wenyuan stepped closer, looked, and exclaimed in surprise, “Hey! It really is! My goodness, such a huge bump! It’s made our little one look like Justice Bao!”

Chen Annan’s round eyes widened. “Ahhhh, it’ll ruin my looks!” After saying this, he rushed downstairs without looking back, desperate to look in a mirror, terrified he wouldn’t look good for school the next day.

Lu Qingyuan muttered a quick “Stop scratching,” and also flew downstairs.

The next moment, a clattering crash suddenly erupted from the stairwell, accompanied by a loud “Ouch!” that pierced the night sky. It scared Lu Wenyuan into running downstairs as fast as he could. “Hey! It’s fine if you two fall, just don’t damage my flowers!”

Holding his bottom, Chen Annan choked with grievance, “Old Lu, you’ve changed. How did you get so mean—!”

Lu Wenyuan burst into hearty laughter.

The days bustled on silently. The little river of time flowed merrily through the milestone of life, washing over the cobblestones on the riverbed—those small obstacles in the passage of existence. Only by flowing past them could one see the scenery of the road ahead.

Senior year of high school brought an intense study load. The art student intensive training sessions were also plentiful. Chen Annan was often sent away for closed-door training, where a single piece of music might be practiced eighty or a hundred times. Every day, it seemed only those brief few hours after school belonged exclusively to him. After that point, it was a living hell again.

Every morning now, he had to take the bus by himself—clattering and banging his way to school. And in the evening, clattering and banging his way back on the bus again. Being able to catch a few winks of sleep standing up had become a small moment of bliss.

Of course, Lu Qingyuan was no better off.

Law studies had few tricks; it relied purely on rote memorization. He piled the practice exams he’d completed into a thick stack, placed it in a corner of the study, then opened his notebook containing organized corrections and continued reviewing.

Time’s passage for him was always swift as flowing water. The stack of books in the corner quickly grew into a small mountain.

A law student’s senior year was no leisurely affair. Besides preparing for the postgraduate entrance exam, he also had to prepare for the bar exam and his graduation thesis. It was a grueling, arduous battle. To study better, Lu Qingyuan simply stopped doing odd jobs. He staggered the study schedules for his various exams and rigorously planned out every single day.

That schedule sheet was densely packed with writing. Each day that passed, he would cross off a box.

At the same time, he also created a study plan for Chen Annan. However, Chen Annan worked on problems at a snail’s pace, grinding slowly. So Lu Qingyuan had no choice but to write basic vocabulary words and formulas on sticky notes and paste them in every corner of the house.

Every morning when Chen Annan got up to brush his teeth and looked in the mirror, he’d see the vocabulary words plastered on it. It was terrifying!

The days of studying were truly bitter and unbearable. He thought to himself: when other people date, they are all lovey-dovey, going on dates together. The two of them, however, were just at home studying miserably together. He had now broken free from feeling like a day was as long as a year and now felt each second was like a year!

Still, the household wasn’t without its idle members. Once the graduation season passed, Lu Wenyuan found himself with free time. He carved out a small garden plot in the backyard to grow organic vegetables. When the harvest season arrived, he would take a small pair of silver shears and carefully snip the vegetables, one snip at a time, placing them into a wicker basket.

Now, every corner of the house was decorated with the flowers he grew. The kitchen was stuffed with jars and bottles of his pickled vegetables. He sat on the sofa, leisurely and contentedly chatting with Xiao Qingxiang on the phone.

Xiao Qingxiang said he should have gone to the agricultural college back then, that staying in the History School was truly a waste of his talents. Lu Wenyuan responded cheerfully, “Exactly! With how capable I am, whatever I do turns out well, right, cubs?”

Lu Qingyuan closed his book and said, “Lucky the back garden isn’t big, or he’d learn how to plant rice paddies.”

Chen Annan enthusiastically chimed in, “Then we’d have free rice to eat! Rice, rice, rice…”

Lu Qingyuan ruthlessly cut him off. “Eat any more and you’ll gain ten pounds.”

This sentence really hit Chen Annan where it hurt. He immediately retorted, “You’re the one who’ll gain ten pounds! You’ll gain twenty!”

Because he was growing taller, Chen Annan’s appetite had increased considerably lately. As his height climbed, so did his weight. He had been vain since he was little. If someone else told him he’d gotten a bit heavier than before, he could barely accept it. But when Lu Qingyuan said it, his brain automatically translated it to “You think I’m fat.”

He huffily rolled up his jacket, scooped it up, and stalked off, pouting.

Seeing the grim situation unfold, Lu Wenyuan immediately lowered his voice and continued whispering to Xiao Qingxiang, “I observed the heavens at night and cast a divination. A major event is surely about to happen in the household.”

“Why? Have you switched to geomantic omen-reading now?” Xiao Qingxiang teased.

Lu Wenyuan smugly hummed twice. “Our household doesn’t read feng shui; we read faces. So someone’s in trouble.”

Xiao Qingxiang’s voice, tinged with laughter, came through the receiver. “Then it seems things are truly unsettled. Time for the mediator to step in.”

Lu Wenyuan immediately refused. “No, no, no. At my age, I’m not going to meddle in the affairs of young people.”

Chen Annan had no idea people were gossiping about him behind his back. Back in his room, he was furiously grinding away at his homework.

Truthfully, the secondary development of puberty wasn’t that big of a deal in the end. Whose weight doesn’t increase when they’re shooting up in height? But for someone obsessed with their appearance, it was a colossal matter.

Teenage boys also liked to dress themselves up. Chen Annan would brood for days over pants whose size had shrunk, or worry over the two tiny pimples that suddenly popped up on his face.

He had already reduced his food intake, but his stomach always betrayed him, growling in the middle of the night. He felt as if his belly had grown a little mouth that nibbled and gnawed at him at night, constantly whispering: Eat, eat, anything will do.

This truly tormented Chen Annan.

After finishing his homework, he lay sprawled out on his bed like a starfish and posted a status on his Qzone: The most helpless thing in this world is probably having cake right in front of me, but being unable to eat it.

The post was accompanied by a carefully selected photo he’d snapped of a little cake, with a small emoji edited onto it.

Just seconds after posting, someone immediately replied: Nan, you’re pretending to be a literary youth again.

Someone else followed up in the comments: You non-mainstream poser, don’t you dare claim to be one of us literary youths.

Chen Annan didn’t reply. He refreshed the page and a bunch of friends’ updates popped up. His friend list was huge—hundreds of people, many from other classes. Because other classes were always asking for his QQ, given by classmates, Chen Annan had initially thought they were all acquaintances and added many. Later, he stopped adding and even set up verification questions.

Scrolling down casually, he discovered that Lu Qingyuan had actually updated his latest status.

It was posted at 11:30 PM.

Can’t finish it all. Really wish someone could help me get rid of it.

The attached picture was a photo of small cookies. The round cookies were baked to a caramel color, and on each one, someone had drawn expressions—all smiling faces.

Eating in secret! Chen Annan pouted and left a vengeful comment: Eating so much so late at night, someone better be careful they don’t gain three hundred pounds.

Just as he put his phone down, a “ding-dong” notification sounded. He opened it to see Lu Qingyuan’s swift reply: Sorry to disappoint someone, but these are my oil-free, sugar-free oatmeal cookies. I could finish the whole batch and not gain a single pound.

Chen Annan: Liar.

Lu Qingyuan: I made them exactly according to a medical cookbook. Didn’t add a single gram of extra flour, 100% replica. If I gain weight, I’m going to the publisher to file a complaint about this book.

Chen Annan had just typed a reply when he saw Lu Qingyuan follow up: Too bad. If I can’t finish them, I’ll have to throw them away.

Chen Annan immediately replied: Don’t waste food. Growing wheat is very hard work, you know.

After he sent that message, Lu Qingyuan didn’t reply for several minutes.

Chen Annan looked at his own status, which had received many replies. In that short time, there were over a hundred likes. Meanwhile, Lu Qingyuan’s post had only his like. He couldn’t resist opening the photo again.

The little cookies looked so fragrant and crispy, rousing the gluttonous worms in his belly to protest, relentlessly clamoring: Eat, eat, a little won’t hurt.

Chen Annan turned over, deeply conflicted. After all, he was the one who’d gotten upset first. Going to eat someone else’s food now… it felt a bit embarrassing.

But the next moment, Lu Qingyuan replied: So, would someone perhaps consider coming downstairs to eat some?

Fine. You asked for it. Chen Annan thought.

When he went downstairs, Lu Qingyuan still hadn’t taken off his apron. He leaned one hand back against the edge of the counter, the other holding his phone, deleting photos. For this batch of cookies, he’d taken dozens of photos before choosing the one he deemed most appetite-inducing to post as his status.

Hearing footsteps, he quickly shoved his phone into his pocket and straightened one cookie that had gone askew on the plate before carrying it to the living room table.

Chen Annan said, shocked, “You’ve got way too many leftovers here!”

Wiping his hands, Lu Qingyuan sat down beside him. “If you can’t finish them, I’ll eat.”

Chen Annan muttered quietly, “Didn’t you say you couldn’t finish them?”

“Ah,” Lu Qingyuan said deliberately, “Did I say that? I don’t remember.”

Chen Annan ignored him now. He stole a quiet glance at him, then shifted his bottom, scooting further away so as not to sit so close.

Lu Wenyuan had already gone upstairs to sleep. Now, only the two of them were downstairs. The living room lights were off; the light from the kitchen was just enough to reach here, the fan-shaped shadows stretching to their feet.

Awkwardly, Chen Annan picked up a piece.

Under the soft light, a simple smiling face was drawn on the cookie, as if grinning provocatively at him.

With his first bite, Chen Annan specifically bit into the laughing mouth, biting it into a split, cracked smile.

Lu Qingyuan rested his elbow on his knee and propped his chin on his hand, watching him. The laughter in his eyes was heavy, yet the corner of his mouth remained perfectly calm.

This cookie tasted completely different from the usual ones. Not sweet, a little sandy. It was fragrant, sure, but rather bland. Curious, Chen Annan picked up another piece and suddenly froze.

The expression on this one was different from the others. The other cookies’ eyes were all “0.0”, but only this one was “T.T”.

Staring at the cookie for a long moment, Chen Annan couldn’t help but ask, “Why is this one a crying face?”

“Maybe the cookie is very sad.”

“How can a cookie be sad?”

“Because it’s different from the others,” Lu Qingyuan said. “It has a heart.”

“A cookie doesn’t have a heart.”

“Filling.”

Chen Annan thought his brother was acting all cryptic and weird tonight.

Doubtfully, he took a bite. It really did have filling. But the taste of the filling was strange. The more he chewed, the more off it felt. “Pfft, pfft,” he spat out two mouthfuls, realizing it was no filling at all, but a tiny slip of paper!

Pulling it open, he saw messy handwriting, yet the strokes were strong and forceful: Sorry, I know I was wrong. Please forgive me TAT

Before Chen Annan could react, Lu Qingyuan had already crouched down in front of him. He rested both hands on Chen Annan’s knees, pressed his chin down on them, and looked up at him pitifully. “Pay attention to me again, please.”

Chen Annan’s shoulders immediately tightened. His eyes went wide and round. A sense of satisfaction instantly ballooned infinitely in his heart, swelling into a little balloon about to burst.

Seeing no response, Lu Qingyuan tilted his head toward his face and said, “Pay attention to me, please. I’m really very sad, you know.”

Chen Annan’s lashes fluttered. Forcing himself to maintain composure, he made an “Oh” sound, lifted his chin slightly, and said, “Fine, then.”

Fine. Lu Qingyuan chuckled softly at his words. He nudged his head against Chen Annan’s belly. The ticklish sensation made Chen Annan giggle. He wriggled restlessly, laughing even more gleefully.

The troubles of youth came quickly but left just as fast. Before long, Chen Annan realized that the scope of his weight gain was actually limited. The sharp increase had mainly been due to his earlier growth spurt. Once his height stabilized, his weight barely changed at all.

Chen Annan no longer looked as small as before. He had gone from barely scraping 1.75 meters when you rounded up, to a solid 1.77 meters now. With shoes on, he was practically 1.78.

A lean, slender young man. When he hunched his back, you could see the line of his spine. The oversized school uniform hung loosely on his frame, making his sides look even emptier. Every time Lu Qingyuan hugged him, it felt like holding a rag doll.

Chen Annan liked to prop his legs up on Lu Qingyuan’s thighs when his brother was reading. It was very comfortable. Lu Qingyuan would sometimes pinch his calf.

Chen Annan loved this kind of contact; it was akin to a caress.

After washing up, Lu Qingyuan nudged his legs aside. Chen Annan immediately rolled inward himself, flattening out like a pancake, then freed his hands to pat the bed. “Come quick, come quick.”

His body still carried the moisture from his shower, damp and humid. When Lu Qingyuan lifted the blanket, he could feel that wet, hot air.

However, just as he’d lifted it halfway, Chen Annan stuck to him like plaster, hugging him and sniffing. “Little Lu, you smell so good.”

“I can’t with you.” Lu Qingyuan wrapped his arms around him, encircling him completely.

Chen Annan giggled. He curled up. Lu Qingyuan’s hand rested lightly on his belly, kneading it casually. Chen Annan’s belly was soft and squishy. In this position, you could feel the little pudge that gathered when he curled up.

Lu Qingyuan assessed, “Soft.”

Chen Annan made a sticky, muffled “Mm” sound and squirmed a little. His hand also burrowed under the covers, feeling downwards. With a lecherous grin, he said, “Little Lu, you’re soft too.”

Grabbing his hand, Lu Qingyuan scolded him, “Are you a little pervert or what?”

Chen Annan’s smile curved the corners of his eyes into small crescents. He nudged closer to Lu Qingyuan and said, “Then I’ll let you touch mine too. We’ll call it even.”

Lu Qingyuan: “…”

The next moment, Chen Annan’s yelp suddenly erupted from the darkness: “Hey hey! Little Lu, you’re touching the wrong place! That’s my butt! Don’t pinch my butt cheek!!”

The moon peeked halfway out from behind a thin layer of clouds, soft and gentle, curving like a smiling eye.