Being able to spend the New Year’s holiday with Xi Zhui was a scenario Wen Chaosheng wouldn’t have dared to dream of, even in his sleep.
After hesitating for what felt like ages, he still couldn’t turn down the enticing offer. He nodded his agreement.
Perhaps it was the overwhelming anticipation for New Year’s Eve, or maybe he’d simply grown accustomed to the hotel bed, but that first night back in the rental apartment left Wen Chaosheng suffering from severe insomnia.
His mind kept replaying everything that had happened over the past year and a half. A sweetness welled up in his heart, gradually overtaking all the old bitterness and despair. Once he’d finished reviewing those memories, he started imagining the New Year’s Eve dinner ahead—
What should they do about it?
Eat out? Or cook at home?
But he had zero cooking skills. He couldn’t possibly ask Xi Zhui to handle the kitchen, could he?
As a total novice in the kitchen, Wen Chaosheng resorted to desperate last-minute cramming. He turned to social apps in a bid to build skills from nothing.
It wasn’t until four in the morning that Wen Chaosheng realized continuing this “insomnia” might keep him up all night. Sleep deprivation would surely wreck his daytime routine.
Snap!
The dim room lit up once more.
Wen Chaosheng rolled out of bed and retrieved his pre-portioned pills from a compartment in his suitcase. Four years earlier, he’d been diagnosed with severe depression and severe anxiety, sometimes accompanied by panic attacks.
From that initial diagnosis to the present, Wen Chaosheng had adjusted his medications and dosages several times. His current regimen fell into three main categories—
Agomelatine Tablets for nighttime mood regulation and sleep aid;
Buspirone Hydrochloride Tablets and Escitalopram Oxalate for daytime anxiety and depression relief, to boost his “energy”;
And Alprazolam Tablets and Mianserin Tablets for forcing regulation during extreme episodes.
To avoid drawing attention and for easier dosing, all the pills had been portioned uniformly.
They might look similar, but as a long-term patient, Wen Chaosheng could tell them apart with ease.
He took one sleep-aid pill and washed it down with some warm water.
Following his psychologist’s advice lately, Wen Chaosheng had cut back on his meds, leaving him with plenty left from what should have been a half-year supply.
After a moment’s thought, he pulled a few more pills from the suitcase—just in case for later.
The bedside table in the rental offered no spare drawers, and leaving the meds right out on top would be too obvious. The bedroom was tiny; Xi Zhui was bound to notice and grow suspicious.
“…”
Wen Chaosheng rummaged through the closet until he found a small box. He stuffed the pills inside and shoved the whole thing under the bed.
“Jaaay!”
A guttural bird call erupted behind him.
Before Wen Chaosheng could turn around, Black Boss flapped over to the bedside table. It puffed up proudly and demanded:
“Sleep! Sleep! Bedtime!”
Wen Chaosheng scrambled back onto the bed and gently rubbed its head. “Sorry, sorry. Did I wake you?”
Black Boss gurgled on. “Brother! Sleep! Good night!”
Wen Chaosheng couldn’t help smiling at how human Black Boss seemed. “All right, bedtime it is. Good night, Boss.”
Click.
Darkness enveloped the bedroom again.
Thanks to the medication, Wen Chaosheng soon plunged into deep slumber.
…
Ding-dong! Ding-dong!! Ding-dong!!!
An insistent doorbell jolted Wen Chaosheng awake. He hadn’t even opened his eyes when fierce knocking joined in.
“Wen Chaosheng? Chaosheng?! You there? Open the door!”
“…”
Xi Zhui?
Wen Chaosheng recognized the voice instantly. He bolted upright in bed, but the sudden motion sent dizziness flooding his brain. He nearly flopped right back down.
“Ding-dong! Ding-dong!!”
“Wen Chaosheng?!”
The knocking persisted.
Black Boss picked up on the commotion at the door and flapped frantically around the bedroom. “Open up! Hurry!”
Wen Chaosheng fought down his body’s discomfort. He didn’t even bother properly slipping on his slippers before dashing out of the bedroom.
He unlocked the suite door.
Wen Chaosheng came face-to-face with Xi Zhui’s anxious expression. His sleep-fogged brain lagged a beat. “Xi Zhui, you…”
Xi Zhui barreled inside, his voice thick with barely contained panic and agitation. “Wen Chaosheng! What’s going on with you?”
“No reply to my WeChats from morning on, no answer to my calls, and now the doorbell gets ignored after I ring it forever!”
As he spoke, Xi Zhui clamped his hands on Wen Chaosheng’s shoulders. Veins bulged starkly on the backs of his hands. “It’s New Year’s Eve—are you seriously trying to scare me to death?!”
The rapid-fire questions left Wen Chaosheng dazed. He stammered a flustered explanation. “No, that’s not it. I-I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I had terrible insomnia last night. I just overslept…”
Before he could finish, Xi Zhui yanked him into a fierce embrace.
His breathing came heavy.
Xi Zhui poured every ounce of strength into that hug, as if he wanted to fuse the man in his arms into his very bones. He buried his face in the warm, soft hollow of Wen Chaosheng’s neck.
The unease that had gnawed at him for hours finally crumbled away.
“I thought you’d left without a word again.”
“…”
Wen Chaosheng felt the tremors in Xi Zhui’s breath—ones he couldn’t hide. Guilt pricked at his heart.
Rather than push away the embrace that left him gasping, Wen Chaosheng carefully patted Xi Zhui’s back in reassurance. “I’m sorry. It really wasn’t on purpose.”
With the movie wrapped and no more shoots, Wen Chaosheng hadn’t set an alarm.
Even on meds, he usually startled awake at the slightest noise and rarely sank into truly deep sleep.
Xi Zhui drew deep breaths of the familiar scent filling his arms. At last, he wrenched free of that nameless terror. “Sure, not on purpose. You’ve just evolved from turtle to pig. Do you even know what time it is?”
Wen Chaosheng was struggling to breathe now. He mumbled, “Just woke up. Haven’t checked my phone yet.”
Xi Zhui let him go. “It’s almost three in the afternoon.”
“…”
Almost three p.m.?
Had he slept nearly eleven hours?
Wen Chaosheng stared in shock, blinking as he processed it.
Xi Zhui eyed his bird’s-nest curls and the sleepiness lingering in his eyes. He sighed helplessly. “Sleeping like the dead means you skipped breakfast and lunch, huh?”
Wen Chaosheng nodded, a beat behind.
That embrace—clearly crossing the line of friendship—hit him belatedly, leaving him embarrassed.
Xi Zhui stepped back to the doorway and hefted in the pile of grocery bags from the floor, along with a small suitcase.
Wen Chaosheng gaped at the sight. “What’s all this…”
“We agreed to spend New Year’s Eve together, right? So we’re making reunion dinner.” Xi Zhui put it simply, then shot back, “Or did you plan to eat out tonight?”
Wen Chaosheng shook his head and muttered, “But you bought so much. I don’t cook well—what now?”
“Who said anything about you cooking? I’ll handle it.” Xi Zhui claimed the key task without fuss and handed over two sticks of candied hawthorns from one of the bags.
“Spotted them from a street vendor when I parked. Grabbed a couple for you. Nibble if you’re hungry; dinner will take a bit.”
Wen Chaosheng stared at the candied hawthorns in his hand—something he hadn’t tasted in years. His eyes brightened. “…Aren’t these for kids?”
Xi Zhui met his gaze. “Grown-ups can enjoy them too. Want one?”
Wen Chaosheng’s lips curved into a smile before he realized it. Then it hit him: he hadn’t washed up. “I’ll go brush my teeth and splash water on my face first. Eat after.”
“Mm. Go ahead.”
Xi Zhui shut the front door and added in a warm tone, “I’ll get started prepping in the kitchen. There’s bird snacks for Black Boss in the suitcase—wheel it in for me first.”
Wen Chaosheng never questioned the suitcase. “Sure.”
After a quick wash-up, he finally checked his phone on the bedside table. Sure enough, it was flooded with messages and calls from Xi Zhui—
Starting with a morning good-morning greeting, then midday questions about dinner preferences, ramping up to frantic WeChats after two o’clock. The guy had even blown up his phone with voice calls.
The more Wen Chaosheng scrolled, the more remorseful he felt. If he’d known Xi Zhui would show up during the day, he never would’ve let himself sleep in like that.
With that thought, he pocketed his phone and stepped out of the bedroom.
Knock knock knock.
Xi Zhui now stood at the kitchen counter by the window, methodically prepping vegetables. His knife moved rhythmically across the cutting board in smooth, practiced strokes—an obvious sign of an experienced cook.
Back during the first scene of Rotten Mud, Xi Zhui’s character, Brother Yao Yi, had to cook.
It had only been a few close-up shots, but watching from the monitor, Wen Chaosheng had zoned out for a moment. In his mind, he’d secretly wished:
If only he could taste Xi Zhui’s cooking again.
No matter the dish or flavor, he’d savor every bite and clean his plate.
Now, that wish had come true.
“Jaaay!”
Freshly liberated, Black Boss strutted happily across the kitchen counter, pecking at the food bags now and then while cocking its head in curiosity.
Xi Zhui shooed it away. “Silly bird, get out of here.”
Black Boss squawked back defiantly.
Spotting the figure in the kitchen doorway, it flapped straight to Wen Chaosheng’s shoulder.
Wen Chaosheng locked eyes with Xi Zhui, then softly patted the myna bird’s fluffy head. “Behave yourself.”
With that, he led Black Boss back into the kitchen. “Xi Zhui, how many dishes are you planning?”
Xi Zhui surveyed the ingredients he had bought, doing a quick estimate. “About seven or eight dishes. We can’t skimp on New Year’s Eve dinner. If we can’t finish them, we’ll just save the leftovers for later.”
In addition to the fresh produce, he had picked up plenty of seasonings. In short order, a pork knuckle was already stewing away in the pressure cooker.
Wen Chaosheng didn’t know how to cook, but even he could tell that Xi Zhui had gone all out with hearty dishes this time. Unable to contain his curiosity, he asked, “When did you learn to make so many dishes?”
He still remembered how the other man had only known a handful of extremely basic recipes back then, with seasoning that was sometimes too salty and other times too bland.
Xi Zhui glanced at him before continuing to devein the fresh shrimp. “I met a senior actor on set who was a real whiz in the kitchen.”
“After the movie wrapped, we started hanging out off the clock for meals pretty often. Before long, I’d picked up a few tricks from him.”
Xi Zhui had never intended to dive into cooking at first. But one time at dinner, that senior actor had joked around the table:
“I snagged my wife with these cooking skills! She used to skip proper meals all the time, but now she can’t get enough of what I make.”
“Xi Zhui, you should learn some too when you’ve got time. It’ll come in handy for winning over a wife someday!”
He couldn’t quite say why, but in that moment, Xi Zhui had immediately thought of Wen Chaosheng. From then on, whenever he had spare time, he’d study recipes. And on the rare occasions he was home alone, he’d even experiment in the kitchen.
Still, pulling off a full New Year’s Eve feast today was a real challenge for him.
“…”
Wen Chaosheng eyed the ingredients lined up on the counter. He felt a mix of anticipation and embarrassment.
By all rights, he was the “host” of this home and ought to be the one entertaining his “guest.” But he simply didn’t have the skills to back it up.
So instead, Wen Chaosheng hovered at Xi Zhui’s side with big, hopeful eyes, offering nothing more than his company.
The kitchen wasn’t large to begin with—cramped, even.
Xi Zhui was already nervous about botching the meal, and now Wen Chaosheng was glued to him, following wherever he went like some programmed little oversight drone.
After they bumped into each other yet again mid-turn, Xi Zhui’s patience finally snapped. He pinned Wen Chaosheng against the fridge. “Wen Chaosheng!”
“Hm?”
Wen Chaosheng tilted his head up to meet his gaze, perfectly still.
Xi Zhui looked down at that obedient face and sighed helplessly. “If tonight’s New Year’s Eve dinner turns out bad, I’m blaming it all on you.”
“…”
Wen Chaosheng blinked, not quite getting the point, and offered encouragement instead. “It won’t. It already looks delicious.”
Xi Zhui chuckled. “Easy for you to say.”
Feeling sheepish, Wen Chaosheng offered, “Do you need any help? I could assist.”
Xi Zhui turned him down flat. “No need. Just don’t get in the way.”
Wen Chaosheng let out a quiet breath of relief. “Oh.”
That had been a close one.
He’d only made the offer out of politeness anyway—he had zero intention of actually pitching in.
Xi Zhui could read him like a book. Laughing softly, he took hold of Wen Chaosheng’s wrist and steered him over to the small dining table just outside the kitchen. “If you don’t want to head back to the bedroom, at least sit here.”
With that, he handed over the candied hawthorn skewer wrapped in rice paper. “Eat it before it melts.”
Wen Chaosheng wanted to save room for the big meal, but he couldn’t bear to waste the treat Xi Zhui had bought him. “Mm. Got it.”
Time was short, so Xi Zhui dove back into his work in the kitchen.
Wen Chaosheng’s eyes tracked his every move, his heart suddenly swelling with boundless happiness. He wished the moment could last forever.
Minutes ticked by.
Xi Zhui emerged again, carrying a platter of neatly arranged cold appetizers.
Wen Chaosheng was still nibbling away slowly at his skewer. Black Boss perched on his shoulder, eyeing it desperately and demanding a share. “Want! Boss wants some too!”
“No, you can’t have any.”
In a rare display of food protectiveness, Wen Chaosheng jealously shielded the last half of the hawthorn berry.
Xi Zhui stared at his lips, glossy and shimmering from the sugar glaze, a smile tugging at his mouth. “How’s the candied hawthorn?”
“Mm. Delicious.”
High praise.
A full, untouched skewer still sat on the table. Wen Chaosheng picked it up to offer it over. “Want to try some?”
But Xi Zhui beat him to it, leaning in to take a bite right out of the remnant half in Wen Chaosheng’s hand.
Wen Chaosheng’s breath caught. “I already bit into that one.”
“Mm. One bite’s all I need.”
Xi Zhui clearly didn’t mind sharing food from the same stick, his gaze full of deliberate mischief. “Haven’t I always been the one to finish off your leftovers before?”
“…”
The past was the past, and now was now.
They weren’t together anymore—did that mean they could still share the same skewer? What was the difference between that and an indirect kiss?
Wen Chaosheng stared at the Xi Zhui so close at hand, his heart pounding.
His fingertip absently twirled the stick as he sensed the other’s subtle advance, a test. And yet he couldn’t bring himself to pull away from the kiss that seemed imminent.
In the next second, the charged air between them shattered under a burst of birdsong.
“Bad! Bad person!”
Black Boss, cheated out of its snack after all that waiting, flapped its wings in outrage, rudely disrupting the undercurrent of intimacy.
“…”
A flicker of annoyance crossed Xi Zhui’s face. He straightened up and shot a verbal warning at the silly bird. “One more peep, and you’ll be the next dish in the New Year’s Eve spread.”
Black Boss snapped its wings shut tight and, still squawking “Bad person!”, fled straight back to the bedroom.
Wen Chaosheng stifled a laugh. “Why’d you have to scare it like that?”
“You watch—it’ll be flapping around causing chaos again in no time.”
Xi Zhui arched a brow. He’d long since learned his pet’s mischievous streak. Glancing at the leftover skewer on the table, he added, “Finish that one too. If you can’t eat it all, just leave it. No need to worry about waste.”
“Oh.”
The soup was still bubbling away in the pot, and there was plenty of work left to do.
Xi Zhui wasn’t about to rush their moment together. Having given his instructions, he turned and headed back into the kitchen.
Wen Chaosheng touched his lips. The lingering sweetness from the sugar slowly seeped into his heart. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it had started—
But their interactions suddenly felt like they were back in their old dating days. It was as if those six long years apart had never happened, and none of the barriers they’d once imagined even existed.
