The door clicked shut. Jiang Chu stood still, not moving, and downed the rest of the water in his glass out of sheer boredom.
After drinking, he heard Zhou Teng licking his fur in front of the sofa. He turned his head to look at him.
Zhou Teng lifted a leg and glared at him warily.
“It’s just the two of us at home tonight,” Jiang Chu said.
It was funny how human reactions worked. Before he said that line, Jiang Chu hadn’t felt anything at all about Qin Zui staying out all night.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. When Qin Zui said Liang Xiaojia had booked a hotel, he instinctively started to frown, remembering the shabby, dirty little inn Liang Xiaojia had wanted to stay at near the train station last time. He was afraid the kid would try to save money and get another room like that for Qin Zui to stay in.
But after saying that to Zhou Teng, an inexplicable awkwardness settled over him.
Liang Xiaojia. Hotel. Qin Zui. Overnight.
Just finished the Gaokao. Haven’t seen each other in a long time.
All the right ingredients!
Jiang Chu suppressed the messy train of thought. He knew Qin Zui had a good head on his shoulders. Theoretically, nothing worrisome would happen.
He put the glass down on the table and wandered into the kitchen. He didn’t even know why he was in there; he wasn’t hungry right now.
He wasn’t hungry, but seeing the spotless counter, the cold stove, the empty pots… the awkward feeling he had just suppressed inexplicably flared up again, mixed with a touch of irritation.
Usually at this time, when he got home, Qin Zui would have already made dinner and be waiting for him.
Jiang Chu lit a cigarette and paced around the house. Feeling the place was too quiet, he turned on the TV.
Then he went to the fridge, opened it, and poked around. Nothing looked appetizing. He slammed the fridge door shut, plopped back onto the sofa, and frowned, staring at the TV. He stared for a long time without taking anything in. His mind was a mess, and he was still annoyed.
Jiang Chu didn’t even know what he was annoyed about. He couldn’t even bring himself to think about the reason. Qin Zui wasn’t a housekeeper. It was just that summer school was over, and he had a week off before school started. He could be home to cook and wait for Jiang Chu to come back.
Before, when school was in session, they’d eaten separately all the time—him at work, and Qin Zui at school.
Just these few days, and he was acting like he couldn’t function without him.
After Qin Zui pushed Liang Xiaojia’s suitcase into the room, he first scanned the bed. A twin room. Two beds.
“How many days did you book?” He put the suitcase against the wall, grabbed the remote from the table, and turned on the air conditioner. He took off his cap and shook his head towards the vent.
By the time they left the subway station, dusk was falling, but the heat hadn’t abated at all. After all that travel, both of them were drenched in sweat.
“Just one day.” Liang Xiaojia pulled out a bottle of water, took a couple of big gulps, and let out a satisfied sigh.
“I was going to come tomorrow. Register, then move straight into the dorm. But a senior in the alumni group said it’ll be super crowded tomorrow afternoon, so I changed it to today.” He hadn’t seen Qin Zui in so long, he was cheerful, chattering non-stop. He wanted to tell him everything. “I only remembered to book the hotel a couple of days ago. The alumni group reminded me. When I searched, almost everything nearby was full, except for this place.” He handed the bottle to Qin Zui, who waved it off without taking it.
Qin Zui bent down and sat on the edge of the outer bed.
“Go wash your face and rest for a bit,” he said, propping his elbows on his knees. He pulled out his phone, swiped the screen a few times. “We’ll go out to eat in a bit.”
Liang Xiaojia said “Oh,” and pulled his hand back, finishing the rest of the water in the bottle.
After drinking, he didn’t go to the bathroom to wash his face, nor did he move. He just stared at Qin Zui’s phone, hesitated, and blinked.
“Little Brother Qin Zui.” He sat down next to Qin Zui.
“College boy,” Qin Zui responded.
Liang Xiaojia smiled and asked him directly, “Is that a picture of you on your phone screen?”
Qin Zui’s lock screen was still Jiang Chu’s abs photo.
His wallpaper had been the same, until Du Miaomiao saw it during New Year’s and pestered him about it for two days.
Qin Zui wasn’t afraid of him knowing. Even if Du Miaomiao shouted it to his uncles and everyone, Jiang Chu had set the photo himself. They’d laugh it off as a joke, and no one would take it seriously.
But to be safe, he had still changed the wallpaper, leaving only the lock screen.
“You saw it?” Qin Zui didn’t look at Liang Xiaojia next to him, continuing to search for nearby restaurants. He had never been to this university city before.
“I wasn’t trying to see. But you don’t hide it or block the screen…” Liang Xiaojia’s voice instinctively became cautious when talking about this topic. “Aren’t you afraid someone will find out?”
“What,” Qin Zui chuckled, “are you afraid someone will see it and smash my phone?”
Liang Xiaojia was silent.
He had found out about Qin Zui’s orientation because of his phone. He had run out of data and borrowed Qin Zui’s phone to look something up, only to open the browser and find that kind of video.
Although when he asked Qin Zui then, Qin Zui was honest and didn’t deny it. Besides being surprised, Liang Xiaojia hadn’t thought anything of it. Later, he even discovered he had feelings for Qin Zui himself.
But he always felt that matters like this needed to be hidden and kept secret. You shouldn’t let the whole world know. Who knows what people will say about you behind your back?
“So, is that you in the picture?” Liang Xiaojia brought the focus back to Qin Zui’s lock screen.
He hadn’t seen it clearly. When Qin Zui unlocked his phone directly, the lock screen didn’t show. He had just seen a flash when Qin Zui lit up the screen to check the time.
But a flash of skin color was hard to miss.
“No.” Qin Zui locked the screen, put his phone away, and stood up, looking at him. “Need to pee? If not, let’s go get some food.”
It’s not him.
Not him means it’s someone else.
Liang Xiaojia understood Qin Zui. He never used custom wallpapers or backgrounds. He always left them as the factory default.
For Qin Zui to use a picture… and a shirtless one at that, as his lock screen… Did Qin Zui have someone he liked?
Or did he already have a boyfriend?
“I’ll call my mom to let her know I’ve arrived.” Liang Xiaojia felt a little disappointed. He knew Qin Zui didn’t want to talk about this anymore. If he pushed further, he’d get told off. So he expertly shut his mouth and ended the topic.
Although the university city was far from downtown, where there are students, there is business. The nearby streets were bustling, full of restaurants, internet cafes, bubble tea shops, and even a small pedestrian street dedicated to selling clothes. More than enough to keep you busy and stocked up.
It was the start of the semester, so there were a lot of people. Most were students and their parents who had come early to see the schools, their faces filled with curiosity and appraisal of the new environment.
“You came by yourself? Your mom didn’t want to come with you?” Qin Zui chose a barbecue buffet. The food was decent, the price was reasonable, and he and Liang Xiaojia had piled up quite a few plates.
“How could she not want to?” Liang Xiaojia rubbed his full stomach, leaning back contentedly against the booth seat. “She saw me off at the station today. If she’d had her ID card, she would have bought a ticket and come with me.”
“What about your dad?” Qin Zui looked at the scar on Liang Xiaojia’s brow bone, where he had gotten stitches. He could faintly see a scar, hidden in his eyebrow, like a small shaved patch.
“He’s fine as long as he doesn’t drink.” Liang Xiaojia subconsciously touched his eyebrow, his eyelids drooping. “I’m just afraid that when I’m not home, he’ll get drunk and hit my mom.”
Qin Zui didn’t say anything. He put the last few pieces of meat on the grill, cooked them, and served them to Liang Xiaojia.
“Eat.” He pushed the small dish of cumin seasoning over as well.
Liang Xiaojia’s father’s problem was unsolvable for Liang Xiaojia. He had gotten out, but his mom was still at home. Their life had to go on, and no one could do anything about it.
“Thanks, Little Brother Qin Zui.” Liang Xiaojia smiled at him, sat up straight, and continued eating.
After a moment, he asked Qin Zui, “Should I treat Brother Jiang to a meal?”
“Hm?” Qin Zui looked up at him. “Why?”
Just a second before Liang Xiaojia mentioned Jiang Chu, Qin Zui had also glanced at his phone, thinking about him.
He wondered what Jiang Chu had eaten for dinner.
He had planned to make Jiang Chu something before he left, but he had somehow mixed up Liang Xiaojia’s train time and didn’t have time.
“Just the last time I was here. He drove back with you to pick me up. I ate at your place, stayed over, and left the next day without even saying goodbye properly.” Liang Xiaojia was seriously thinking about it. “Since I’ve moved here now, it feels rude not to thank him.”
“I’ll ask him tomorrow.” Qin Zui hadn’t thought about it that deeply. He knew Jiang Chu wouldn’t care about superficial things like that. And if Liang Xiaojia offered to treat him, Jiang Chu definitely wouldn’t let him pay. He’d end up taking them both out to eat anyway.
These were all small matters. The real issue was that Qin Zui, deep down, didn’t really want Jiang Chu and Liang Xiaojia to meet.
Last time had been an exception. Liang Xiaojia’s visit was sudden, Qin Zui hadn’t known how he felt about Jiang Chu, and Jiang Chu hadn’t known about his orientation.
Now Jiang Chu knew everything, including that Liang Xiaojia had feelings for him.
Chatting about Liang Xiaojia in passing was one thing. But thinking about the three of them having a meal together, knowing Jiang Chu could see right through everything… Qin Zui felt an inexplicable, cowardly pang of guilt.
Jiang Chu didn’t know if he slept well that night or not.
He fell asleep quickly, and it was a nice, deep sleep. He didn’t have to work the next day, so he slept until well past nine before opening his eyes. But he had a string of messy, endless dreams, pressing down on his head and making it ache.
When he came out of the bathroom after washing up, his habit was to glance at Qin Zui’s room. Seeing the door open and the bed empty, he was momentarily stunned before remembering that Qin Zui had gone out yesterday.
“Ah.” Jiang Chu was still a bit groggy. He went to the sofa, leaned back, closed his eyes, and rubbed his temples.
The brief feeling of disorientation was strange. He thought about it carefully. Since Qin Zui had come to live with him last year, this was the first time he had woken up without him under the same roof.
Liang Xiaojia was supposed to register today. They were probably awake by now, and Qin Zui would probably stay with him for another day.
He wasn’t just coming to stay overnight; he was starting university. Liang Xiaojia would definitely be bringing a lot of stuff. Clothes for summer and winter, probably more than one suitcase could hold. He might even be carrying a big, cheap migrant worker’s bag, just like Qin Zui when he first arrived.
Qin Zui went to pick him up yesterday. He would definitely take the heaviest bags himself. Liang Xiaojia was new to the city, so Qin Zui would have to walk with him, introduce him to the layout, teach him how to get around on his own, which exit to take for the subway, which one for the taxi stand.
The high-speed rail station would be packed. Qin Zui would be carrying his luggage, talking to him, having to keep a hand on him to guide him, protect him as they walked…
Picked him up yesterday.
Registration today.
Jiang Chu could perfectly picture their dynamic.
He barely asked Qin Zui to handle luggage when they went out. If he did, it was just the short distance from the store to the car.
There was a rustle by the sofa. Zhou Teng jumped up from the other side, smacked his lips at Jiang Chu, tucked his paws under him, and lay down.
Jiang Chu squinted at him for two seconds, then reached out and pushed him off the sofa.
