[Twenty days remaining for the mission. Host, keep up the effort.]
Deep autumn. Withered leaves rustled, the Lower City District a picture of desolation everywhere.
Shen Qiuxun got off work early today. The sun was still in the sky. He went to the market, debating with the System whether to buy tomatoes or zucchini. He happened to overhear a few local aunties and uncles chatting while cracking melon seeds.
“Oh my, I have a nephew working in the Federal Government. He says they’ve discovered traces of some big shot who escaped earlier, right here in the Lower City District. The Search Team from above is supposed to arrive in the next few days.”
“Unbelievable, they say they’re sending specialists, an elite squad. Going to search house to house.”
“Think they’ll impose a lockdown? It’s been years since we had a lockdown.”
“Searching every house… who knows how much oil they’ll squeeze out of people this time. Gonna be another tough year.”
“And if someone really is hiding an escaped convict, won’t they be dragged off and shot? …My nephew said, better to kill by mistake than to let one go.”
Shen Qiuxun threw the zucchini back with a wooden expression. ‘Brother System, what should I do?’
[Don’t panic.]
‘And then?’
[Then you won’t be panicking.]
‘Useless.’
Shen Qiuxun carried a bag of tomatoes and also picked up some unwanted cabbages and scallions, heading home filled with anxiety.
Opening the door, the house was spotlessly clean and orderly. The kitten stood at the door looking up at him. On the iron table sat two plates of food, steaming hot. Walking in and closing the door, he saw Fu Mingchuan busy in the kitchen wearing that pink apron.
‘How about we dismember him?’
[Do you have the guts?]
‘I have the guts to spout nonsense.’
[…]
Shen Qiuxun placed the plastic bag on the table. Turning around, he saw that the originally withered and bleak flowerpot on the balcony had surprisingly sprouted a hint of green. He walked closer and squatted down. The soil in the pot had been freshly turned. A tiny bit of green poked out from the earth, round, soft, and adorable, incredibly cute.
‘Suddenly I feel like Fu Mingchuan is really quite suited for domestic life.’
[…]
“Did Dongxun come back?”
Shen Qiuxun turned his head to see Fu Mingchuan groping his way from the kitchen to the table. His hand touched the plastic bag on the table, found the round tomatoes inside, and the corner of his mouth curved up.
He could almost imagine how Shen Qiuxun, expressionless, compared them one by one, finally picking out the roundest ones. He would struggle for a while, then haggle with the vendor, equally expressionless.
And in the end, probably wouldn’t get much off the price anyway.
“How about tomato and scrambled eggs tomorrow?”
“Sure.”
After eating, Shen Qiuxun wiped the corner of his mouth and watched Fu Mingchuan take the plates back to the kitchen. Because he couldn’t see, his movements were especially slow.
Back in the kitchen, Fu Mingchuan looked back toward the balcony. He could imagine that scene: the sunlight kissing Shen Qiuxun’s face.
He had seen it before, that was their first meeting.
That day, he was mediating a neighborhood dispute in an adjacent alley. Afterward, he was walking back this way. It was a beautiful, sunny day, just as the sun was setting. Warm sunlight streamed through the branches, shining on the old building walls.
Fu Mingchuan looked up. There was Shen Qiuxun, standing on the second-floor balcony, arms resting on the railing, head tilted back as if looking at the drifting clouds in the sky.
The sunlight kissed his cheek, a face like carved jade. His hair was coated with bright, glittering gold, the fine tips swaying gently in the evening breeze.
Like an angel descended to earth.
He had stood there, stunned, watching for a long time. A fallen leaf, carried by the wind, floated down gently onto a small puddle on the ground, sending out ripples.
After dinner, Shen Qiuxun lay in his recliner watching the news. When Fu Mingchuan finished washing the dishes and came out, only then did he look up, seeing Fu Mingchuan sitting rigidly on a small stool against the wall.
“Can you bring back a needle and thread tomorrow? I saw your pant cuffs seem a bit loose. I can mend them for you.”
“Needle and thread?” Shen Qiuxun tilted his head. “You know how to do that?”
He thought for a moment, then beckoned Fu Mingchuan over. “Come here.”
Fu Mingchuan carefully came closer, squatting down by his side, looking up. His gentle, handsome features were full of tenderness.
Many years ago, Matron would look at Shen Qiuxun just like this, patting his back to coax him to sleep in a warm, loving afternoon.
Shen Qiuxun, like a magician, pulled a rose from his pocket. He poked the man’s nose with the bud, then offered it. “Guess what flower?”
[??? When did you buy that?]
‘None of your business.’
[I hate you.]
‘Who cares?’
Fu Mingchuan was stunned. His nostrils flared, a delicate floral scent lingering at his nose. His dark brown eyes looked around aimlessly.
After a long moment, he reached out and accepted the flower. His lips parted and closed, whispering softly: “Rose?”
“Mm, for you.”
Fu Mingchuan’s blindness was indeed an accident. An inexplicable Wanted Poster had disrupted his plans, drawing some special people here as well. To be rid of them cleanly, he naturally had to pay a price. Besides, a blind drifter would always garner more pity.
But at this very moment, he desperately wished he could see Shen Dongxun with his own eyes. To see if that beautiful face held the tender, moved expression he imagined.
Shen Qiuxun yawned. “I heard a Search Team is coming down, said to be after some big shot. They’ll search house to house. What do we do?”
Fu Mingchuan’s expression didn’t change. He placed his hand on Shen Qiuxun’s knee and leaned lightly against him, like a dodder vine clinging to a large tree. “Dongxun, hide me… don’t let them find me.”
Shen Qiuxun stroked his hair casually, as if petting fur. It was very soft.
[What’s your plan?]
Shen Qiuxun was drowsy. ‘Effort the day after tomorrow matters more than anything else.’
[So?]
‘So today and tomorrow, I rest.’
[…]
Late at night, the living room was silent. Fu Mingchuan stood on the balcony, activating the chip embedded in his wrist.
Those sticky nuisances he couldn’t shake off were truly hateful. He didn’t want to be disturbed. He had to do something. The other party was an old acquaintance. Looking back now, those past days felt like a previous life.
[SRF537849: Understood. I will find a way to make them withdraw.]
[SRF537849: Are you really not coming back? You could assume a new identity. Your talents shouldn’t be buried.]
Fu Mingchuan looked back, peering through the darkness toward the bedroom.
[No, I am very happy now.]
[SRF537849: I understand. I wish you well.]
Fu Mingchuan returned to his spot against the wall. The soft blanket wrapped around his body. A faint, cool fragrance that belonged to someone else made it somewhat difficult to control himself. He pressed his ear against the wall. The other room, just a wall away, was also quiet.
Perhaps he should use some tricks to get into that room. Even sleeping on the floor by Shen Dongxun’s bed would be good… Or maybe, someday in the future, they could sleep in each other’s arms.
…
The next day, Shen Qiuxun was unusually busy. He patched the leak in the roof alone, repaired three air conditioners, mended numerous windows, and didn’t stop until the afternoon.
The Lower City District remained calm. He only heard gossip at the market that the Search Team had caught a few fugitives.
Coming back, he didn’t see anyone. The rental house was only so big. Finally, he opened the bathroom door. Fu Mingchuan, hearing the noise, abruptly stood up, his expression uneasy, blocking something behind him. His voice was low and hoarse as he ducked his head shyly. “Dongxun, you’re back?”
“Mm.” Shen Qiuxun glanced behind him. The corner was firmly blocked by the man’s body. “What are you doing?”
“I… I wasn’t doing anything.”
Shen Qiuxun stepped forward and pulled him aside, revealing a small piece of sky-blue fabric in the plastic basin behind him.
Very familiar.
[It’s your underwear.]
‘.’
Shen Qiuxun took a deep breath, his gaze turning dark as he looked at the anxious man beside him. “Are you sick?”
Fu Mingchuan hastily grabbed his hand. “N-No… it was hanging on the balcony last night. I accidentally knocked it down when loosening the soil in the flowerpot today. I was just washing it clean again for you.”
He lowered his head dejectedly. “Sorry, I seem to mess everything up. I… I didn’t do anything else.”
The tips of his ears were burning red. No matter how you looked at it, he didn’t seem like someone who did “nothing else.”
Shen Qiuxun figured he was just nervous. He felt a bit awkward. A man washing his underwear… even though he had washed it before himself. But if it were a woman washing it, that would be even stranger.
If he rejected Fu Mingchuan now, given his personality, he’d probably wallow in self-pity for days again.
Truly, a passionate youth raised in New Country Z still couldn’t quite come to terms with the concept of a “male servant.”
He shook his head, pulled his hand free, and patted the other man’s shoulder. “Then you wash it.”
Fu Mingchuan watched his retreating figure, then glanced down at his own palm. Turning back, his fingers found the soft fabric. He lowered his head, the corner of his mouth curving upward.
Outside the window, an autumn rain fell pattering, scattering the already sparse treetops until the branches were bare.
Shen Qiuxun poked the plump green succulent in the flowerpot that had already grown as thick as a finger. His Lightbrain suddenly vibrated. He opened the message: it was Xian Zeyang tipping him off. The Search Team from above had already reached their alley, were disguised as civilians, and were not easy to deal with.
He dismissed the Lightbrain. Turning, he saw Fu Mingchuan just finishing washing the sky-blue fabric, groping his way over.
Once the man had hung his underwear to dry, Shen Qiuxun stood up, grabbed him by the wrist, and dragged him into the bedroom. He pulled a large chest from under the bed. “Take out two of the blankets inside.”
Fu Mingchuan was a bit puzzled, but his hands had already started moving. Shen Qiuxun went out to collect the other man’s belongings, expertly erasing any trace of another person living there.
Returning to the bedroom, he wiped his face. “Get in.”
Fu Mingchuan’s dark brown eyes looked his way, bearing a peculiar, unfathomable depth. “Did the Search Team come?”
“Mm.”
The chest was large, but fitting a man over 1.8 meters inside was a tight squeeze. There were two holes in the side of the chest, barely allowing for air. Shen Qiuxun spread a blanket inside, threw in some clothes haphazardly, then attempted to push the chest back under.
It didn’t budge.
Shen Qiuxun stood at the bedside, silent for a long time. He went to the other side of the bed and pushed the bed frame over until it just covered the chest.
That done, Shen Qiuxun let out a sigh. He left the bedroom door wide open, went to the cupboard under the kitchen counter, and took out a large basin of minced garlic Fu Mingchuan had prepared. He turned on the stove and heated the oil.
He even had the nonchalance to figure out how to ignite this stove burner.
The kitten, awakened by their commotion, sat on the living room table, meowing.
Soon after, a knock came from the door. Expressionlessly, Shen Qiuxun dumped the entire basin of minced garlic into the hot oil. It sizzled and crackled, the pungent smell of garlic instantly skyrocketing.
Unable to hold back, Shen Qiuxun sneezed. He rubbed his hands and went to open the door.
Several tall, powerful-looking men in civilian clothes stood outside. The one in the lead had an outstanding bearing, a rigid, military stiffness about him. His gaze swept over Shen Qiuxun’s face upon seeing him open the door. He presented a search warrant.
“Routine official business.”
Shen Qiuxun looked closely and saw they were officers under the Federal Central Police Department.
His name was Qingshan.
Quite a significant deployment. He wondered what identity that legendary “big shot” actually held, and where they were hiding.
