Jiang Chu was making claypot rice for the first time in his life, and he was doing it with maximum aggression. He stood in front of the stove several times, tempted to just lift the lid, jump in, and let the pot cook him alive instead.
“Do I have to babysit this thing the whole time?” he yelled toward the living room, arms crossed as he leaned against the fridge.
Qin Zui was sprawled on the couch, watching TV while scrolling through his phone. Gao Xia had sent him a short video of Hai Dapang standing at the lectern with a dead-serious face, lecturing everyone about campus safety.
Before the video even finished, Gao Xia sent another message: So you’re not coming back to school until you get that cast off?
“Just wait until you smell the fragrance, then turn off the heat and pour the sauce,” Qin Zui shouted back while typing his reply to Gao Xia: Nah, just need a few days to heal.
“What fragrance? All I smell is burnt rice crust. Am I supposed to pour this black sludge on it?” Jiang Chu yelled again. “What kind of sauce has foam floating on top? You mixed it with oyster sauce, didn’t you?”
Gao Xia: That’s alright then. I’m bored enough without you here.
Gao Xia: It’s not even been half a day, and Lu Yao’s already planning to visit you.
“Yeah.” Qin Zui sighed, tossed his phone onto the couch, and reluctantly got up to go to the kitchen.
But before he dropped the phone, he fired off one last reply to Gao Xia: Stop her.
The two of them fumbled around together trying to salvage the claypot rice. Even though Qin Zui had to come help in the end, the final result was still pretty tragic.
The crust was at least a centimeter thick, and they had to scrape off the burnt layer.
“I told you we should have just ordered takeout.” Jiang Chu poked at the burnt bottom with his chopsticks. It was as thick as Da Ben’s face.
“It’s fine.” Qin Zui took a bite. It was way better than he’d expected.
After all, he was the one who had seasoned the vegetables and sauce. As long as you didn’t focus too hard on that lingering burnt taste clinging to your tongue, it was actually decent.
“Good enough. I’ll bring you something decent tonight.” Jiang Chu went to grab two bottles of soybean milk.
“Going to the office?” Qin Zui asked.
“Yeah. Still got the whole afternoon.” Jiang Chu picked up his phone and tapped at it. “I’ll put in a week’s leave for you. Just rest up at home. If you go back to school and get bumped or banged again, it’s not worth it.”
“Mm.” Qin Zui had no objections. He’d already studied all the second-year stuff anyway. Missing a week wouldn’t hurt.
Right before he walked out the door with his jacket on, Jiang Chu propped himself against the doorframe and gave Qin Zui a long list of instructions: don’t move around too much, lie down and sleep, or watch TV if you can’t sleep, just don’t hit your foot on anything.
He’d already closed the door and left when he suddenly turned back and barged in again to confiscate all the cigarettes in the house.
He was taking this pretty seriously. Once he got to the office, he pulled up his laptop and searched a long list of queries about “dislocation.”
Dislocation aftereffects, effects of dislocation, habitual dislocation… He kept searching until he finally cursed, “Damn it,” closed the browser, and slumped back into his chair.
“Keep going,” Da Ben said without even looking up from across the desk. “A few more minutes and you’ll be ready to just go straight to amputation.”
“You really can’t Baidu for medical advice. It’s terrifying.” Jiang Chu clicked his tongue.
“Seriously, what’s your deal?” Da Ben’s fingers flew across the keyboard. “Back in school, when Fang Zi broke his leg, you were using his crutch as a toy gun.”
“How’s that the same?” Jiang Chu scrolled his mouse a couple more times. “Fang Zi only lost a crutch. But Qin Zui? He dislocated his ankle.”
Da Ben stopped typing and looked up at Jiang Chu with wide eyes.
“So it’s like, ‘You merely lost a leg, but he lost his true love’?” He was stunned by Jiang Chu’s blatant favoritism logic.
“Hey, it’s an ankle dislocation.” Jiang Chu noticed the question mark in Da Ben’s tone was practically splintering, so he laughed and threw in a patch. “It’s not an arm. Even arms, which are easy to heal, are pretty fragile. I just read about this guy who didn’t let his first dislocation heal properly. He kept swinging his arm around getting into fights, and ended up with a habitual dislocation. He’d go to bed fine, wake up with his arm popped out, and ended up having to teach himself to be a bone-setting master just to survive.”
“Then you better make sure your little brother is careful,” Da Ben said with a snicker. “In case he falls asleep while walking down the street.”
“But honestly, I didn’t expect you to care this much about this ‘brother’ of yours.” He spun his chair a little and added, “Not that you didn’t care before. But it’s pretty surprising that you care to this degree.”
“My brother-in-law got into a fight and lost a tooth once. Bao Li laughed her ass off and made the kid cry from frustration.” Da Ben said. “But you? You’re actually a pretty qualified caretaker. Anyone would think you’re raising him like your own son.”
“I think I’m getting pretty close to that point. Honestly, with his situation, if I don’t treat him well, who else is going to?” Jiang Chu sighed.
He thought about Qin Shuman’s phone call at noon. He wondered if she ever called or messaged Qin Zui afterward.
After Jiang Chu left for work, Qin Zui took a nap first.
He didn’t go to the bed initially. He just leaned against the couch with the TV on and dozed off. He liked falling asleep to noise. TV, movies, skits, news, anything. As long as there were sounds around him, he felt grounded.
Jiang Chu had tried to shoo him to bed at first, but Qin Zui didn’t move. It was easier to prop his foot up on the couch armrest anyway, so Jiang Chu had gone to get him a small blanket to cover up with.
It was the same little blanket Qin Zui had pulled out when he slept in Jiang Chu’s bed last time.
Jiang Chu hadn’t put it back in the closet afterward. It had just been lying on the bed ever since.
Qin Zui shifted, turning over on the couch and pulling the blanket higher. He could still smell Jiang Chu’s scent on it.
Jiang Chu’s scent?
He opened his eyes, buried his nose in the little blanket, and sniffed again.
If he was being honest, there wasn’t really any distinct smell.
Both of them used the same shampoo, body wash, laundry detergent, and toothpaste. Even the air freshener in the bathroom was the same. Their clothes came out of the same washing machine. There shouldn’t be any difference between this blanket and the stuff on Qin Zui’s own bed.
He couldn’t quite describe what that non-existent smell actually was. But it was there.
And somehow, this smell could grab hold of you.
After burying his face in it for a while longer with his eyes closed, Qin Zui turned his head and glanced toward Jiang Chu’s bedroom door. He met the gaze of Zhou Teng, who was sitting right in the middle of the coffee table.
“I’m gonna go sleep in his bed for a bit.” Qin Zui grabbed the little blanket, stood up with his crutch, and pointed at Zhou Teng. “You keep your mouth shut.”
Zhou Teng flicked his tail.
As it turned out, Comrade Zhou Teng wasn’t very well suited for secret-keeping work.
Three hours later, Jiang Chu came home early, carrying a paper bag full of calcium supplements and some congee.
Winter meant it got dark early. The living room was pitch black except for the glow of the TV. Qin Zui wasn’t on the couch. Jiang Chu pushed open the door to his own bedroom and poked his head into the bathroom. Not there either.
He thought Qin Zui might have gone out on his own, so he stared at Zhou Teng and asked, “Where is he?”
After he finished asking, he realized there was still one room left. He hurried to check his own bedroom. Qin Zui was fast asleep in his bed. He didn’t even stir when Jiang Chu opened the door and turned on the light outside.
“How’d he end up sleeping in my bed?” Jiang Chu muttered softly. He tiptoed back and gently closed the door, then went to the kitchen to heat up the congee.
Zhou Teng crouched in front of the bed for a moment, then wiggled his butt and tried to jump up onto it. Jiang Chu grabbed him by the scruff and hauled him out.
Qin Zui hadn’t expected to sleep all the way until Jiang Chu got back.
He felt like he hadn’t been asleep that long. When Jiang Chu patted his face to wake him up, he was still a bit out of it. He squinted at Jiang Chu for a long time before finally saying, “Why are you back?”
“Right? Like you wanted me to stay away so you could sleep in my bed longer?” Jiang Chu laughed. “That’s rich. When I left, I told you to go sleep in the bed, but you wouldn’t. Then as soon as I’m gone, you sneak in here.”
Qin Zui pushed himself up with his arms and sat up. Jiang Chu’s commentary left him at a loss for words.
“Come on, get up and eat.” Jiang Chu walked to the foot of the bed, lifted the blanket to check Qin Zui’s casted leg, then helped him get to his feet. “You slept all afternoon. If you keep going, you won’t be able to sleep tonight.”
As they walked out the door one after the other, Jiang Chu suddenly became suspicious. He turned back, lifted the blanket, and checked the bed. “Tell me you didn’t jerk off in my bed?”
“Ugh!” Qin Zui couldn’t even be bothered to respond. He turned his head and hobbled quickly into the living room.
Dinner was pork rib congee and stuffed pancakes that Jiang Chu had brought back from a congee shop. It smelled great. Jiang Chu himself drank a big bowl.
“I’ll buy some ribs tomorrow and make you a stew at home,” Jiang Chu said. “Or should I just buy two big marrow bones?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Qin Zui said indifferently. “Either way, I’ll be the one doing the cooking.”
Jiang Chu smiled and put two more pieces of pork rib into his bowl.
The phone Qin Zui had left on the coffee table buzzed twice. He reached over to get it. Jiang Chu glanced at it. “It’s been buzzing for a while. Must be a call.”
“It’s Gao Xia.” Qin Zui tapped the screen. Gao Xia had sent him pictures of some notes from the blackboard and two test papers.
Lu Yao and Du Miaomiao had also sent a bunch of messages asking how he was doing.
“Did your mom ever call you?” Jiang Chu asked.
“No.” Qin Zui scrolled through his messages and put the phone back down.
Jiang Chu cursed under his breath and dropped another piece of rib into Qin Zui’s bowl.
After dinner, once the dishes were cleared away, Jiang Chu stood in the living room and just stared at Qin Zui.
“Should I put a cold pack on your leg?” He walked over and knocked on Qin Zui’s cast. “Does it still hurt?”
“It feels tight.” Qin Zui tried to gauge the feeling. It might have just gone numb. The strongest sensation was pressure, and a little bit of itchiness.
“I’ll get you an ice pack.” Jiang Chu went to grab the ice pack he’d brought home at noon. “You can’t shower for a few days. You’ll just have to stink up the house.”
Qin Zui frowned.
Things like that were fine until someone mentioned them. Once it was pointed out, he instantly felt filthy.
And the psychological trigger spread directly to his leg where it was wrapped in the cast. It hadn’t been that itchy before. But as soon as Jiang Chu said “stink up the house,” he immediately felt his whole leg start to itch like crazy.
Jiang Chu came back with a towel and the ice pack and saw Qin Zui scratching at his ankle through the cast. He quickly went over and smacked his hand away.
“Don’t scratch at it. If you go too hard, you’ll really screw yourself.” He sat down next to Qin Zui on the couch and studied the situation from every angle. No matter how he positioned himself, it wasn’t convenient.
Finally, he just shifted, looped one leg under himself on the couch, and propped Qin Zui’s foot up on his thigh. He put a towel under it and started applying the ice pack.
They both stared at the ice pack on Qin Zui’s leg like they were working on some huge project. After a moment, Jiang Chu lowered his voice and asked in a tone someone might use to await a miracle: “Can you feel it?”
“…I think so?” Qin Zui subconsciously lowered his voice to match.
“Why are you whispering? Afraid you’ll scare someone?” Jiang Chu couldn’t help but laugh.
The corner of Qin Zui’s mouth curled up too.
He could feel it a little, but his attention wasn’t really on his foot.
After Jiang Chu came home, he had changed clothes. He might have even taken a shower while Qin Zui was still asleep.
Qin Zui had noticed this habit last time when they went to the hospital for his allergy. The moment Jiang Chu got home from the hospital, he’d strip down and jump in the shower, as if going there covered him in a ton of germs.
He’d been running around all afternoon—moving a person, making food—and hadn’t had time for a shower. It must have been driving him crazy all day.
And having Qin Zui sleep in his bed with a cast and bandages on? That must have bothered him too.
Qin Zui figured that if Jiang Chu wanted to change the sheets later, he’d let him sleep in Qin Zui’s own room.
As he was thinking this, he watched Jiang Chu lean over to adjust the ice pack. The collar of his shirt gaped open, revealing the hollow of his collarbone and his neck. Qin Zui thought back to the “Jiang Chu scent” he’d found on the little blanket that afternoon.
Jiang Chu had showered and changed. He gave off a feeling of being completely clean and fresh, from the inside out.
If Qin Zui could bury his face in the hollow of his neck and take a deep breath right now, it would probably smell amazing.
But that was just a thought. The moment Jiang Chu looked up and started to speak, Qin Zui shifted his gaze away.
But he shifted it to the wrong place. Jiang Chu always walked around the house shirtless and in shorts. Now that it was colder, he had put on a t-shirt, but the leg he had propped up was folded, and the shorts were loose. From Qin Zui’s angle, he could practically see straight up to the inside.
This unintentional “exposure” was way more evocative and imagination-sparking than just being completely naked.
Qin Zui rested his elbow on the back of the couch, pressed his index finger to his temple, and rubbed it. Then he turned his head to look at the TV.
“Hand me the cushion next to you.” Jiang Chu snapped his fingers and pointed at the throw pillow beside Qin Zui’s arm.
“What for?” Qin Zui turned his face back.
“To prop your foot on.” Jiang Chu carefully adjusted the ice pack, about to lift Qin Zui’s foot.
“You have a problem?” Qin Zui didn’t move.
“No problem.” Jiang Chu was a bit bewildered. “I’m not just gonna hold your leg like this forever. It’s heavy as hell.”
Qin Zui held his gaze for two seconds, didn’t lift his leg, and looked back at the TV. “Hold it a little longer.”
