It wasn’t really a brush-off. Back then, he and Qin Zui had been chatting idly, one thing leading to another, when Qin Shuman’s phone call came in and the topic got derailed.
After that, neither of them had remembered to bring up the birthday again.
Now that he’d figured out the logic, Jiang Chu looked at Qin Zui’s back as he picked out drinks. His first reaction was the urge to laugh.
Not a mocking laugh, or a “that’s funny” kind of laugh. Just the urge to laugh.
A surge of warm happiness bubbled up from the bottom of his heart. Before he even realized it, the corner of his mouth was already fighting to curve upward into a smile.
Who gets annoyed just because someone forgot to tell them their birthday?
Someone who genuinely, truly cares about that person—that’s who.
Jiang Chu felt a deep sense of consolation, knowing that none of his kindness towards Qin Zui had gone to waste.
Sure, he looked after Qin Zui without expecting anything in return, but no one dislikes being genuinely cared for.
“My little puppy.” Jiang Chu took two steps over, slung an arm around Qin Zui’s shoulders from behind, and said with a soft, sighing laugh.
“What did you say?” Qin Zui stopped in his tracks and turned to stare at him.
“My little puppy.” Jiang Chu repeated, rubbing Qin Zui’s arm vigorously. He explained that the conversation about birthdays last time had been cut short when Qin Zui’s mom called. He hadn’t meant to hold it back; Chen Linguo must have found out from Da Ben.
In the middle of the crowded supermarket, Jiang Chu couldn’t exactly express his satisfaction and affection for Qin Zui in a physical way. If they were at home, he would have wrestled Qin Zui and rubbed his head.
Qin Zui felt like Jiang Chu never failed to lose him at these odd moments.
Jiang Chu was probably operating on pure straight-guy logic. He had never, not even once, been on guard against Qin Zui.
Even though he knew Qin Zui was gay, even though he was annoyed by Qin Zui’s occasional, stray-dog-like horniness, the term “homosexual” had never been a concern for him.
From the bottom of his heart, he believed that sexual orientation was just orientation; it didn’t affect their brotherhood, and it didn’t affect how he treated Qin Zui.
So all of Jiang Chu’s expressions and emotions towards him were the most direct and straightforward.
And it was precisely this unguarded directness that always, every single time, struck the very chord that made Qin Zui’s heart race.
Qin Zui let Jiang Chu rub his arm up and down for a while, stared at him for a few more seconds, and then continued pushing the cart forward.
“Yeah. Yours.” He smiled and added softly.
They spent the afternoon crowded in the supermarket, then lugged bags and bags of stuff home. Jiang Chu was busy the whole evening.
After dinner with Qin Zui, he sorted through all the things he’d bought for each family. After a long while, he tried to copy his mom and clean the house on the day before New Year’s Eve.
When he was almost done, he got a call from Jiang Liantian, asking if he and Qin Zui were coming over for the New Year’s Eve dinner.
The call was completely unnecessary.
A silent, weary sigh escaped Jiang Chu’s mind as he picked up.
If someone really wanted their kid home for New Year’s, they’d call early, like his mom did.
Father and son that they were, they both had a clear sense of what the other was thinking.
From Jiang Liantian’s personal perspective, he really didn’t want to sit at the same table with Qin Zui for the New Year’s Eve dinner. The atmosphere would be too awkward. This huge, sudden stepson with whom he had zero connection—every meal they’d ever shared had been unsatisfying. He didn’t want to invite that displeasure on New Year’s Eve.
But from the stepfather’s perspective, it wasn’t right that Qin Zui, in his first year here, wouldn’t even spend the Spring Festival at his and Qin Shuman’s house.
Besides, setting aside Qin Zui for a moment, he still wanted to see his own son, Jiang Chu.
“You two don’t need to put yourselves through that, and you don’t need to put us through it either.” Jiang Chu didn’t have to be conscious of Qin Shuman when talking to Jiang Liantian alone, so he was much more direct.
“If she really wanted to spend the New Year with her own son, she wouldn’t have had to wait until this year. It’s only this year, with Qin Zui here, that you two are feeling some moral obligation.” Jiang Chu was pushing the vacuum cleaner with a loud hum. Zhou Teng was squatting on top of the canister, humming right along with it.
“You consider that Qin Zui is her biological son. She considers that you’re Qin Zui’s stepfather. You both want to do the right thing, but you never stopped to ask if Qin Zui actually wants to eat with you.” He continued.
“That’s bullshit.” Jiang Liantian scolded him in a low voice. “Always analyzing. What’s that noise, that humming?”
“Fine, I’m talking bullshit.” Jiang Chu laughed and turned off the vacuum. He popped out a cigarette and bit it, then turned on the TV to some random channel.
“I’ll definitely come see you guys, since it’s the New Year. But for the New Year’s Eve dinner, let’s just everyone have their own peaceful meal.” He glanced at Qin Zui washing dishes in the kitchen, then walked to the balcony. “How about this: I’ll bring Qin Zui over on New Year’s Day to collect the red envelopes. You don’t have to prepare anything. We’ll collect them and leave.”
He hung up, put the vacuum away, and went to the kitchen. He gave Qin Zui’s ass a light slap. “Little brother.”
Qin Zui’s hands were full of dish soap, and he nearly dropped a plate. “Hey!”
“I have to go to my mom’s for a meal tomorrow. Just lunch. I’ll come back right after.” He thought for a second, then asked Qin Zui, “What about you for lunch? Want to go to your mom’s?”
“No. I’ll just make myself something. Don’t worry about me.” Qin Zui said.
“Alright.” Jiang Chu nodded. He dipped a finger in some dish soap and wiped it on the tip of Qin Zui’s nose. “I’ll be back in the afternoon. We’ll make dumplings together.”
“Okay.” Qin Zui tilted his head and rubbed it against Jiang Chu’s face, smearing the soap back onto him.
“Tsk, you hold every single grudge, don’t you!” Jiang Chu smacked his ass again, wiped his face, and walked out of the kitchen. “I’m going to take a shower.”
While Jiang Chu was busy all evening, Qin Zui was mulling over one thing: Jiang Chu’s birthday.
He’d found out about it too late. He had nothing prepared.
And probably because of that feeling of being “scooped” by Chen Linguo, he felt a weird reluctance to celebrate Jiang Chu’s birthday at all.
Qin Zui reflected on himself.
His desire to “possess” every aspect of Jiang Chu was a bit too strong.
He even wanted to be the first to know his birthday.
His reflection was cut short when his mind was flooded with images of Jiang Chu and Chen Linguo standing in front of the chocolate tower, laughing and chatting.
Setting his selfishness aside, Qin Zui knew in his heart that Chen Linguo was a really nice girl.
She was pretty, had a good personality, was smart and emotionally intelligent. Standing next to Jiang Chu, she didn’t look out of place. She even seemed like a fitting match.
If the two of them ever actually got together, no one on either side would have an objection.
If they ever got together…
Listening to the TV in the living room and the faint sound of water from the bathroom, Qin Zui opened the fridge, grabbed a can of beer, and leaned against the kitchen counter, taking a few slow sips.
It was annoying.
Logically, it was only a matter of time before Jiang Chu got married and settled down. Even if he seemed completely uninterested right now, eventually, when he reached that age, he’d have to start thinking about it whether he wanted to or not. And if he didn’t, his parents would definitely start pushing him.
Qin Zui didn’t want to imagine a future just two or three years down the line, where he hadn’t even graduated from university yet, hadn’t grown into a version of himself he was satisfied with, and Jiang Chu was already planning his wedding.
And if his future “sister-in-law” were Chen Linguo, he could already picture what they’d be like together.
He could picture Chen Linguo calling out “Brother Chu,” and Jiang Chu saying a few random words, making her cover her mouth and laugh endlessly.
His phone buzzed twice in his pocket. Qin Zui forcibly dragged his thoughts back, pulled it out, and saw a WeChat message from Lu Yao.
Lu Yao: Happy Valentine’s Day, Qin Zui!
Lu Yao: On this last day of the year, I still like you! Hurry up and consider dating me!
Lu Yao: [Sticker Pack]
Followed by a string of sticker packs.
Qin Zui was both exasperated and amused. He took his phone and went to sit at the dining table.
Lu Yao was crazy all day. Her confessions were like casual greetings, coming every few days. She wasn’t upset when she got rejected; she just treated it like a running joke.
At the beginning, the class would tease and joke about it, but now they were all collectively immune.
He replied to Lu Yao with a simple “Thanks, but no.” As he was typing, he suddenly realized something. He checked the time.
It was already past midnight.
The calendar on his screen had updated to February 14th, with the big word “Valentine’s Day” underneath.
Jiang Chu’s birthday.
Almost at the same moment, Jiang Chu’s phone rang on the dining table with a notification, a banner popping up.
Qin Zui glanced over. It was Chen Linguo.
Like Lu Yao, she had sent a stream of messages. Qin Zui could only see one [Sticker Pack] after another flying up, but he could guess she was definitely wishing Jiang Chu a happy birthday.
Qin Zui twirled his own phone on the table a couple of times. Hearing the water stop in the bathroom, he flipped his hand over and turned Jiang Chu’s phone face down on the table.
He still wanted to be the first person this year to wish Jiang Chu a happy birthday.
Even if he had nothing prepared.
Jiang Chu had a nice, refreshing shower. As he pulled open the bathroom door, he was about to shake the water off his hair when he saw the dark, pitch-black living room. Qin Zui was standing by the door, arms crossed, leaning against the wall. Jiang Chu was so startled he jerked backward violently, barely managing to stifle a scream, choking it back down as he jumped in place.
“What are you doing, standing there trying to scare someone?” He whacked Qin Zui’s arm with his towel.
Qin Zui didn’t say anything and didn’t move. He held up a lighter in front of Jiang Chu’s face and flicked it, a tall, thin flame springing to life.
“Blow.” He said to Jiang Chu.
“What for?” Jiang Chu was taken aback. But he caught on quickly. Using the light from the bathroom, he shot a glance at the clock on the wall. 12:03 AM.
February 14th had arrived.
“Ah, shit.” Jiang Chu laughed. The feeling of a warm rush inside him from that afternoon at the supermarket came flooding back, forcing the corners of his mouth upward. He couldn’t stop laughing.
“A candle?” He leaned against the wall too, tilting his head to look at the small flame, then at Qin Zui through it.
“Surprise?” Qin Zui’s lips curled.
“Very surprising.” Jiang Chu was still laughing.
“Then blow it out, I’m happy you’re surprised.” Qin Zui clicked his tongue. “It’s burning my hand.”
Jiang Chu quickly leaned in and blew it out with a laugh.
“Happy birthday, man.” Qin Zui looked at him.
“Yeah.” Jiang Chu’s smile was still wide. He grabbed Qin Zui’s thumb, the one that had been holding down the lighter, and rubbed it. “Thanks.”
“Did you make a wish?” Qin Zui asked, very seriously.
“Hell no. I was too busy being confused,” Jiang Chu laughed again, a muffled sound. “What other pair of brothers would start celebrating a birthday at the bathroom door?”
Hearing that, Qin Zui laughed too. In the dim, soft light, he gently tapped his forehead against Jiang Chu’s.
