He knew what Tan Jing looked like in the hospital.
Tan Jing had always been sickly and hospitalized often as a kid. He Siheng had visited him—sick, his face pale, quieter than usual. No matter how painful the shots, he never cried or fussed; no matter how bitter the meds, he swallowed them obediently.
Did it not hurt? Not taste bitter?
No.
“It’s already hard enough taking care of sick me. I don’t want to trouble them more.”
That was what Tan Jing had said back then, when He Siheng voiced his confusion.
“Son, the ribs are ready. Sweet or salty this time?”
Shu Qiu’s voice snapped He Siheng from his thoughts.
Smelling the odd odor from the kitchen, He Siheng whipped out his phone and instinctively messaged a certain contact: Call me NOW!
The reply came instantly: ?
Seconds later, Tan Jing’s call popped up.
He Siheng answered immediately, speaking rapidly. “Tan Jing, what’s up? What? You got ambushed on the road? I’m coming right now!”
He then yelled toward the kitchen, “Mom! Tan Jing has an emergency and needs me—I’m going to help him! Won’t be home for dinner!”
He finished speaking and bolted.
Lady Shu Qiu poked her head out from the kitchen, still holding a spatula in hand. “What’s the rush? Eat first before you go!”
He Siheng didn’t look back. “By the time I’m done eating, I’ll be half-dead!”
Lady Shu Qiu spat three times to ward off the bad luck. “What kind of talk is that?”
He Siheng wasn’t wrong—he was just talking about himself. With Lady Shu Qiu’s cooking skills, one meal would cool him off by half.
He didn’t run to Tan Jing’s place next door, either. He was afraid it might turn into another illicit rendezvous like last time.
After running a few dozen meters out of the house, He Siheng finally stopped, slightly out of breath. He spoke into the phone to Tan Jing on the other end. “Safely escaped. Thanks for saving my life.”
Tan Jing laughed on the other end of the line. “Lady Shu Qiu’s cooking isn’t that* scary, is it?”
“That’s because your tastes are exotic.”
“My tastes are perfectly fine.”
He Siheng snorted. “Then next time my mom cooks, I’ll call you over to eat your fill.”
Tan Jing agreed without hesitation. “Sure.”
He Siheng froze instead.
Their conversation felt just like old times.
No, wait—since when could he and Tan Jing chat so harmoniously?
He Siheng felt inexplicably awkward. “Sure my ass. I’m hanging up.”
Without waiting for Tan Jing to respond, he ended the call.
Leaving the air-conditioned house, the outdoor heat seeped into his skin, making his heart feel restless too.
He Siheng scratched at his scalp.
For some reason, he felt annoyed.
He pocketed his phone, walked to the neighborhood entrance, hailed a taxi, and gave the driver an address.
The taxi stopped at Silver Peak Plaza. It was dinnertime, and every restaurant around the plaza was packed.
He Siheng got out and headed straight into the alley beside the plaza. After winding through the twists and turns, he finally reached his destination: the noodle shop.
The shop wasn’t large, and the decor was pretty dated, but the flavors were irreplaceable. Every time Lady Shu Qiu showed off her skills in the kitchen, He Siheng came here for refuge. After becoming a regular, even the owner recognized him.
During the dinner rush, the shop was crammed with people. When the attractive young man stepped through the door, quite a few gazes landed on him.
“Little He! It’s been a while.” The owner spotted him while delivering a bowl of beef noodles to a customer and greeted him with a grin. “Here alone again?”
He’d only brought two people to this place before, and both times, things had ended on a sour note.
He Siheng smiled and vaguely replied, “Yeah, just me with nothing better to do.”
“The usual three items?”
“Yeah.”
He Siheng squeezed into a spot that had just opened up, right next to the photo wall.
A few years back, a minor celebrity who was blowing up had eaten here, and their photo with the owner was plastered on the wall. To draw in customers, the owner started a “add ten bucks for a photo” gimmick. Customers could take the prints home or stick them on the wall as a check-in memento, so now it was covered in Polaroids.
He Siheng had taken a few photos with the owner too, but later… they were gone.
He averted his gaze, opened the rhythm game on his phone, and played while waiting for his noodles. With the crowd, he figured he’d get through a few rounds before they arrived.
While gaming, He Siheng suddenly heard a voice from above.
“Mind if I share the table?”
His nimble fingers froze mid-operation, messing up and costing him a chunk of score.
But He Siheng didn’t care. He looked up at the newcomer. “How did you get here?”
Tan Jing sat down across from him. “I was in the mood for noodles.”
He Siheng huffed lightly. “Enemies on a narrow road.”
Tan Jing didn’t argue. He pulled out a napkin and meticulously wiped down the table.
Watching Tan Jing’s germaphobe habits, He Siheng recalled the first time he’d brought him here. Tan Jing had been full of doubts about the out-of-the-way, tiny shop, but after one taste, he was hooked and kept asking every few days if He Siheng wanted to come.
After cleaning the table, Tan Jing poured two glasses of water and pushed one toward He Siheng. “Do I look good today?”
He Siheng was baffled. “What?”
Tan Jing: “You’ve been admiring me for a while.”
He Siheng: “…”
This guy’s shamelessness had reached new heights. He Siheng rolled his eyes, remembered what Lady Shu Qiu had said, paused, and finally asked, “I heard from my mom you were in a car accident back in middle school?”
He felt weird saying it, mumbling the words, but Tan Jing still caught them clearly.
Tan Jing stared at him for a few seconds, his eyes curving into a shallow smile.
“Hm? Are you… concerned about me?”
