Chapter 34
On the first day back at work after the holiday, Jian Wu, a lover of clocking out, for the first time, worked an extra hour before going home, despite having no work to do.
Song Shuci came home early today. When Jian Wu entered, he was sitting in the living room with his laptop, seemingly reading something. Jian Wu hesitated between greeting him and not greeting him. Song Shuci, as if waiting for him, greeted him first: “You’re back?”
How novel.
It was usually him waiting for Song Shuci to come home. This was the first time Song Shuci was home first.
“Mm,” he lowered his head to change his shoes, hiding his expression, “I’m back.”
Normally, he would casually toss his bag onto the sofa, then, regardless of what else he had to do, open a bottle of soda, collapse on the sofa, and scroll through his phone to recharge.
But today, he inexplicably felt a little restrained, unsure what to do at home.
Jian Wu attributed this to the extra man on the sofa occupying his space, so he nudged him: “Move over.”
Song Shuci obligingly moved aside, making just enough space for him to lie down. But after he lay down, it felt even more awkward.
The sofa wasn’t big. He lay there, his head on a pillow, holding his phone. If he raised his eyes slightly, he would meet Song Shuci’s gaze.
Song Shuci’s keyboard was practically next to his ear. The man’s long fingers flew across the keys, each click exceptionally clear.
Jian Wu tossed and turned, then lay flat on his back, but the sound persisted, lingering by his ear, making it difficult to focus on his phone.
“Are you uncomfortable? You keep moving,” Song Shuci asked him.
Jian Wu made up a half-truth: “My back hurts, and my neck too.”
“Then don’t use a pillow,” Song Shuci typed a few more words.
“What are you doing?” he asked Song Shuci.
Song Shuci rubbed his neck: “Making a presentation.”
Jian Wu leaned his head back, looked at Song Shuci, and protested like a salted fish to a workaholic: “Hey… Mr. Perfect, can you go to your room to study? You’re making me uncomfortable, being so productive next to me.”
Song Shuci looked down at him: “Isn’t this a common area?”
Jian Wu said: “Then let’s add a new house rule, no studying in common areas.”
Song Shuci couldn’t help but chuckle: “Are you the landlord?”
Jian Wu: “You can also move out.”
Song Shuci looked at the strands of hair on Jian Wu’s forehead swaying as he tilted his head back, his fingers on the keyboard suddenly itching. Jian Wu’s head was too close, he could reach it just by extending his hand.
A long time ago, when he wasn’t so busy, they often sat like this, one sitting, one lying down, spending many afternoons and evenings on the sofa.
Back then, Jian Wu liked to use his leg as a pillow, and he could only support his laptop with his other leg.
Sometimes, the laptop wasn’t stable and would accidentally bump against Jian Wu’s head. Jian Wu would glare at him, then he would reach out and rub his head, listening to him talk about the books he had read, or how he dominated in some game.
He would stop his work, listen to him finish, then reply with a few words. When Jian Wu was tired of talking or playing, he would extend his hand, and Jian Wu would hold it and take a nap on the sofa.
But later, he could only tell Jian Wu that he had to finish his work first and didn’t have time to chat.
“What kind of man are you, what kind of man are you—”
A loud ringtone interrupted Song Shuci’s thoughts and made him retract his hand, which had been about to touch Jian Wu’s head. He watched Jian Wu answer the phone, sit up from the sofa, chat for a few words, then suddenly look at him with a secretive expression.
Before he could ask, Jian Wu left with his phone.
Outside, Jian Wu, like a spy making contact, lowered his voice and said to the person on the phone: “I’m coming down, stay where you are and don’t move.”
The caller was Cheng Xian. This dude had finally finished his business trip and was back to apologize to Jian Wu. He said on the phone that he had brought a bunch of hot pot ingredients and beer to apologize.
He asked Cheng Xian: “Where’s the seasoning packet?”
Cheng Xian: “Aren’t you making your own? Yours is better than the store-bought ones.”
Jian Wu was puzzled: “Is making me cook for you the modern way of apologizing?”
“I bought the ingredients! And I always help you with the prep work, you just have to make the seasoning,” Cheng Xian said, “And I have other gifts this time, guaranteed to satisfy you.”
“If you dare to bring those things again—”
“Don’t worry, don’t worry,” Cheng Xian interrupted, “Definitely not this time!”
“Aiya, Jian Xiaowu, I know you’re the best,” Cheng Xian coaxed, “My taste buds are numb from eating out these past two days, I just want to eat your cooking. I’ll hang up now, my hands are full, it’s not convenient to talk on the phone.”
“Hey—” Jian Wu wanted to tell him Song Shuci was here, but Cheng Xian had already hung up.
He went downstairs and saw Cheng Xian, still with his red hair, carrying several bags, standing there with a cheerful smile: “Good brother, over here!”
Jian Wu walked over, saw his rosy complexion, and asked: “Did your business trip go well?”
“Mm,” Cheng Xian nodded vigorously, “I got the distribution rights for several brands in City B.”
“Congratulations,” Jian Wu helped him carry some of the bags and said hesitantly, “How about we eat out?”
Cheng Xian’s joyful expression suddenly turned panicked: “You haven’t forgiven me yet?”
“I was really wrong, I won’t do it again,” he said anxiously, “I’ll even kowtow to you, bro.”
Seeing Cheng Xian was about to bow deeply, Jian Wu quickly stopped him, “No, it’s not that—” He was about to explain about Song Shuci when Cheng Xian suddenly interrupted: “Wait, I just remembered something very important, I have to tell you!”
“…Song Shuci is back, did you know!?”
Jian Wu: “…”
Cheng Xian said: “My mom just told me, just now, while I was waiting for you downstairs. Luckily I remembered, didn’t your mom tell you?”
The three of their parents lived in the same building and usually shared information very quickly. Probably because Cheng Xian’s mother had been losing money in the stock market recently and hadn’t been playing mahjong, the news was slightly delayed.
Jian Wu thought, if his mom’s information network was as fast as Cheng Xian’s, it wouldn’t be so awkward now.
“Why are you still standing there? Don’t tell me you’re so shocked by the news that you can’t walk anymore,” Cheng Xian nudged him, “Let’s go upstairs, we’ll talk upstairs.”
Jian Wu, carrying a case of beer and several bags of ingredients, followed Cheng Xian, watching him press the elevator button and walk towards his apartment, and complained about Song Shuci: “Why did he come back? Did he not do well abroad? Honestly, I don’t really want him to come back. When my mom sees him, she’ll start nagging me again about being a disappointment.”
Although the three of them lived in the same building, his relationship with Jian Wu and Song Shuci was vastly different.
When he first moved in, Song Shuci, in his rebellious junior high phase, wasn’t as approachable as he was later. Back then, Song Shuci barely spoke to him, even when their parents were present, he always seemed cold and distant, not even sparing him a glance.
And at that time, Song Shuci was in junior high, while he and Jian Wu were in elementary school. Although there was only a one-year age difference, for elementary school students, junior high students were like big, scary older siblings. Coupled with Song Shuci’s academic halo, he was exactly the type of person Cheng Xian was most afraid of.
But Jian Wu was different. Jian Wu was the first person to greet him warmly and share his toys. When he transferred schools and ended up in the same class as Jian Wu, it was Jian Wu who helped him quickly integrate into the class.
Later, as they grew older, Song Shuci at least learned to pretend, but the childhood impression was too deep, and Cheng Xian still couldn’t become as close to Song Shuci as Jian Wu was. Not to mention the past grievances, where Song Shuci, disapproving of his behavior, had repeatedly told him to stay away from Jian Wu.
“I advise you not to talk about him,” Jian Wu reminded him quietly.
“Seriously, Jian Xiaowu, you’re already feeling sorry for him just because I said a few words about him? Do you love him that much?” Cheng Xian looked hurt, as if betrayed.
“No, it’s not that—”
Jian Wu wanted to interject, but Cheng Xian wouldn’t stop talking. He stepped out of the elevator, still rambling: “What’s so good about Song Shuci? He’s always so arrogant, acting like everyone owes him money, and he loves to show off. After going to America, he’s probably even more arrogant now… Eh? Why is your door open, Jian Xiaowu? Is there someone at your place? Didn’t you say that university student wasn’t renting from you anymore? Did you forget to close the door when you left—”
Before he could finish, he heard two voices.
One from Jian Wu behind him: “I closed it.”
The other from Song Shuci in front of him: “Long time no see, Cheng Xian.” The man smiled at the startled red-haired young man and extended his hand: “Need help with those?”
Cheng Xian froze for two seconds, pointed at Song Shuci: “You, you, you—” Then pointed at Jian Wu and repeated: “You, you, you—”
Jian Wu pushed his fingers back: “I was just about to tell you, he rented my apartment. You kept interrupting me, not letting me speak.”
Cheng Xian was speechless.
Even after putting on slippers and sitting on Jian Wu’s sofa, Cheng Xian was still stunned.
“I told you not to talk about him,” Jian Wu poured him a glass of hot water, feeling a little sorry for him.
Song Shuci took the hot water from his hand: “So this is how you usually talk about me in front of Jian Wu.”
Cheng Xian looked at Jian Wu, his eyes vacant, like a lost soul: “I only sent him a vibrator, I don’t deserve this, do I?”
Jian Wu suspected Cheng Xian’s brain had short-circuited, he had no idea what he was saying anymore.
As expected, the next second, when Song Shuci repeated the word “vibrator,” Cheng Xian, realizing his mistake, immediately jumped up: “No, no, I meant jumping eggs, hahahaha, I gave Jian Wu a few eggs, the chicks that hatch will jump… hahahaha, fun, right?… hahahaha…”
Jian Wu covered his eyes, unable to bear the sight.
“Oh,” Song Shuci suddenly chuckled, his tone unclear, “So you were the one who sent that?”
Cheng Xian gulped nervously.
“Not bad,” Song Shuci said.
He picked up a bag of ribs from the ingredients Cheng Xian had brought, clapped his hands, and said: “You guys chat, I’ll start preparing the food.”
The next second, they both heard the sound of heavy chopping from the kitchen — “Thump — Thump –”
With each “thump,” Cheng Xian shuddered.
The ribs were brutally chopped into pieces under the cleaver. Then Song Shuci came out, holding the cleaver and the chopped meat.
“Cheng Xian,” he held out the chopped meat, “Is this fine?”
Jian Wu answered for Cheng Xian: “…It’s fine.”
Song Shuci nodded and took a piece of beef back into the kitchen.
This time, there were no bones, so each chop of the cleaver landed directly on the cutting board, making a solid “thud, thud” sound.
Cheng Xian chose to cover his ears and curl up on the sofa like a quail.
