The impure milk was rejected.
Meanwhile, the takeout that Xie Qingcheng had ordered consisted of only two steamed buns—one meat and one veggie.
He Yu didn't like to eat meat buns because he found them too greasy, but if you gave him a veggie bun, he would feel that the vegetable leaves hadn't been washed thoroughly enough—his attitude was exactly like that of a rich old Republican-era landlord's concubine. In the end, Bossman Xie opened the refrigerator with a cold expression and, with considerable effort, dug out a bag of wontons from the depths of the freezer.
Bossman Xie asked Concubine He, "My next-door neighbor made these. This is the last bag. They're all-natural and preservative-free—this is the only food I have left. Do you want them or not?"
Glancing at Bossman Xie's eyes, Concubine He could tell that this manly patriarch's last shreds of patience had been worn out. He Yu had come here to relax, so it wouldn't do him any good to truly piss Xie Qingcheng off.
So he smiled, unexpectedly showing some reserve with that pretty, handsome face of his—even though it was fake. "In that case, I'll have to trouble you."
The scene that followed seemed like an absurdist parody of volunteerism. Doctor Xie, the lonely senior citizen who was supposed to be the subject of consolation, wore a gloomy expression with lips tightly pursed as he watched over a pot of water boiling on the electric stove, holding a wood-handled ladle. Meanwhile He Yu, the university student volunteer who had come to dole out the consolation, very conscientiously stood as far out of Xie Qingcheng's line of sight as possible. A gentleman's place was not in the kitchen, so he examined the room with calm indifference, as if he were doing exactly what he ought to do.
When He Yu was in junior high, he had come here on several occasions with Xie Xue. Li Ruoqiu had still been around at that time, and the photos from her wedding to Xie Qingcheng had been displayed in this room.
Those photos were all gone now.
But it seemed like it wasn't just Li Ruoqiu's photos that had disappeared. There were several other places that showed marks left by old pictures that had evidently been removed even earlier. It wasn't obvious unless he examined them closely, so He Yu thought that perhaps those photos had already been gone when he visited during his junior high years. However, his attention at the time had been focused on Xie Xue, so he hadn't been very observant.
"Do you want vinegar?" Xie Qingcheng asked.
"Yeah," He Yu said. "I'll add it myself."
It was dead silent inside the room, but snippets of sounds from the neighbors' cramped houses in Moyu Alley could be heard from beyond the walls. Humans on earth were like cells in the body, their movements charmingly out of sync with each other—cells replicated at different times, and people lived according to their own rhythms. When the household to the east was washing dishes and scrubbing chopsticks, the one to the west was only just lighting their stove with an audible spark.
Leaning against the window frame, He Yu saw a chameleon crawling over the sill. He reached out a hand. Surprisingly, the chameleon wasn't afraid of him and allowed him to stroke its head. This was just how He Yu's aura was—cold-blooded animals always had a close affinity to him and never ran away; perhaps it was because they saw him as kin.
But Xie Xue's favorite animals were the fuzzy, warm-blooded ones; she was terrified of creatures like insects and reptiles. If Xie Xue saw this chameleon, she would definitely scream in fright and chase it away.
As He Yu stroked the chameleon's head, it narrowed its eyes in enjoyment.
Perhaps he and Xie Xue really were too different in some respects, he thought. Maybe that was why she liked Wei Dongheng.
Right now, as he stood in the place where Xie Xue had spent her childhood and adolescence, the traces of her life here that would have once eased his mood became a luxuriant thicket of thorns instead, their roots burrowing deep in the earth and their branches piercing high into the sky.
If a field of brambles grew in someone's heart, the world around them would only bring them pain.
He Yu started to feel somewhat unwell, so he quietly bid goodbye to the chameleon and stepped away from Xie Xue's windowsill.
When Xie Qingcheng scooped up the wontons, he turned around to discover that at some point, unbeknownst to him, university student volunteer He Yu had lain down on his bed and covered his face with his pillow.
"…What are you doing? Did you even take a shower before you decided to lie down on my bed?" Xie Qingcheng asked.
He Yu didn't respond. He kept the pillow over his face, as though trying to hide himself like a chameleon.
Xie Qingcheng asked again. "You're not gonna answer?"
He Yu kept quiet.
"If you don't move, I'll assume you've been smothered to death and call the morgue to have you taken away."
After a few seconds of silence, perhaps because he wanted to avoid the misfortune of getting sent to the morgue, He Yu finally lifted a hand and tugged the pillow down slightly to reveal his profile. His almond eyes were filled with disdain. "Your bed reeks of tobacco."
Xie Qingcheng set the bowl down. "If you don't like the smell, then stop lying there and come eat. The sooner you finish eating, the sooner you can leave. I want to rest."
"The smell wasn't so strong the last time I was here."
"That was ages ago."
Indeed it was, He Yu thought.
Back when whatshername—Li Ruoqiu—was still around, Xie Qingcheng didn't smoke. Saozi probably didn't let him. Xie Qingcheng was a rather cold person, but he had a strong sense of responsibility, especially when it came to his duties as a man. If his wife didn't like something, he would definitely find a way to accommodate her.
As He Yu lay on Xie Qingcheng's bed looking at his indifferent side profile, he couldn't help but remember the first time he visited Xie Qingcheng's home. Li Ruoqiu had gone to prepare snacks and tea for him, all smiles, and while he waited for her, he had inadvertently glanced at the large bed half-hidden behind the gauze curtains. At the time, He Yu had found it rather strange because he couldn't really visualize Xie Qingcheng sleeping with a woman.
Were there really times when Xie Qingcheng's stern, solemn face was stained by desire?
Xie Qingcheng frowned. "What are you thinking about?"
"The mysteries of life," He Yu said in a gentle, refined voice.
Xie Qingcheng had nothing to say to that.
"Xie-ge, did you go on any other matchmaking dates after that last one?"
"I don't intend to remarry."
"You're only in your thirties," He Yu said slowly. "Aren't you lonely?"
Xie Qingcheng glanced at him, unconcerned. "Your line of questioning sure is broad, Doctor Busybody."
He Yu smiled. It was probably because Xie Qingcheng had no sex drive.
"Are you eating the wontons? If not, I'm tossing them."
He Yu was actually hungry, so he finally followed Xie Qingcheng's prompting and got up to sit at the small table. The chair Xie Qingcheng had him sit in was the same one that Xie Xue had used as a child. It was small, low, and very uncomfortable for the 189-centimeter-tall He Yu. Xie Qingcheng tossed the little kid a bottle of vinegar and a spoon before asking frostily, "Would you like a bib?"
He Yu didn't bother bickering with him. He turned his face and smiled slightly, looking very obedient. However, the harshness burning in his eyes betrayed his hostile intentions. "In that case, why not feed me yourself, Doctor?"
Xie Qingcheng didn't humor him with a response.
"Here." He Yu handed the silver spoon back to Xie Qingcheng.
"Scram and eat on your own," Xie Qingcheng said coldly.
But the wontons were indeed a bit too hot. He Yu wanted to let them cool down first, so he picked up his phone and tapped away at it for a while.
Xie Qingcheng couldn't hold back his paternal impulses. "If you're going to eat, then eat. Don't play games on your phone."
He Yu didn't even raise his head as his fingers flew over the screen. "This isn't a game."
Xie Qingcheng looked down at the screen to find that it indeed wasn't a game but rather some sort of rapidly scrolling code.
"What is it?"
"I'm practicing. These are hacking commands."
"Don't hackers use computers?"
"I set it up myself," He Yu said calmly. "My phone can do everything a computer can."
Xie Qingcheng wasn't really interested in this sort of thing, nor did he understand it very well, but he had a vague idea of He Yu's skill, and he guessed he was very competent. Still, He Yu just treated attacking other people's firewalls as a game of heightened concentration; he'd never truly crossed the line.
"Two minutes."
He Yu finally hit the enter button and the data froze on the bypass screen of a well-known website. He checked his watch. "My speed was pretty good this time—maybe it's because I'm in a rush to eat wontons."
He closed the page with a smile. He had no interest whatsoever in their data, he just wanted to play with their firewall—like an eccentric thief who liked opening all sorts of advanced locks, but who didn't bother stealing anything once the locks had been cracked.
Xie Qingcheng looked on in silence as He Yu put down his phone. At this point, the wontons were at the perfect temperature, so He Yu bent his head and slowly began to eat.
Handmade wontons were rarely available in stores; He Yu quietly finished the entire bowl but still felt unsatisfied, so he turned to Xie Qingcheng.
"What are you looking at me for? There isn't any code on my face."
"I'd like another bowl."
"Do you think this is a prize-unboxing game? Another bowl? A neighbor made those and gave them to me, and what you just ate was the last bag. There's no more."
"Then do you know how to make them?"
Xie Qingcheng took out a cigarette and held it in his mouth, mumbling, "Even if I did, I wouldn't make them for you." With that, he clicked his lighter on and turned his head slightly to light the cigarette held between his teeth.
He Yu frowned deeply. "Xie Qingcheng, when exactly did you wind up with such a serious tobacco addiction? Can't you stop? This room is tiny to begin with, and now that you've filled it with smoke, I can barely breathe."
"Is this your house or mine?" Xie Qingcheng took a drag and exhaled it in He Yu's direction without the slightest hint of courtesy, then gazed at him through the faint gray fog. "You come into my house, eat the wontons that I cooked, sit in my chair, and lie in my bed with my pillow on your face. You keep making demands, but you act like you're being so polite the whole time. If you can't breathe, you can go home. Your family's villa is surrounded by greenery; the air must be very fresh. The door's that way."
He Yu was rendered speechless.
Xie Qingcheng flicked away some ash from his cigarette. "Are you leaving?"
He was met by silence.
"If you're not, then make sure to wash your dishes. You're quite courteous when you're at other people's houses. Don't get all lazy now that you're here."
Fine, it was just a simple chore. This young master had lived abroad, after all, so it wasn't as if he didn't know how to do dishes.
With the sound of running water as accompaniment, Xie Qingcheng smoked an entire cigarette while leaning against the window. He'd been quite tired before, but after that disagreement with He Yu, he'd gradually lost that sense of exhaustion. The cigarette he smoked once the fatigue passed had left him feeling more awake now.
He examined the way He Yu looked washing dishes before the sink. He had no bangs, and he looked refreshing with his handsome forehead exposed—though at the moment, with his head bent as he scrubbed the dishes, a few wisps of hair were hanging down over his brow. His skin was supple and smooth, and despite the dim lighting, his profile seemed to emit a soft glow.
He looked extremely youthful and delicate. And he was intelligent to boot. You had to get very close indeed to catch a whiff of his bestial degeneracy.
Looking at him, Xie Qingcheng thought, If it wasn't for his mental illness, he'd be completely invincible; he could get any girl he wanted. I wonder what kind of girl it was who found him lacking.
"You should replace this faucet; there's barely enough water coming out."
After Young Master He condescended to wash the wonton bowl, he turned off the water, let down the sleeves he'd rolled up, and wiped his hands dry.
"We don't come back very often these days," Xie Qingcheng responded. "Changing it isn't worth the hassle."
The young master thought this was no big deal and said, "Then next time I'll have Lao-Zhao find someone to replace it along with this light…"
Xie Qingcheng's expression soured. "What's wrong with the light?"
"It's way too dim. It makes this place feel like a haunted house. If the room gets any darker, you won't even be able to tell who's standing in front of you."
Xie Qingcheng grew angry at He Yu's disdainful tone—what kind of person started nitpicking the moment they put down their chopsticks after eating? "I'm pretty sure this isn't your house," he scoffed. "Besides, you're the one who struggles to identify the person in front of him, aren't you, He Yu?"
He Yu didn't know what to say to that. It was true that he was having a hard time accepting what had happened at the Hangshi hotel—that he'd mistaken Xie Qingcheng for a woman, pinned him down, and kissed him from the table all the way to the bed. He immediately dropped his voice.
"You said you wouldn't bring that up again…"
Xie Qingcheng rolled his eyes. "Do you think I wanted to? It's only because I can't get you to shut your mouth."
Just as the awkwardness was beginning to set in, there came a knock at the door.
Concubine He saw it as an opportunity to escape this uncomfortable topic, so he cleared his throat and managed to force a rather deferential tone. "I'll get the door."
"Hello, I'm with Shunfeng Express Shipping. Is this Mr. Xie's address?" someone called from the outside.
He Yu opened the door to see a young man mopping his sweat.
"Um, are you Mr. Xie? You booked an appointment today to have something shipped and asked me to come pick it up at your door."
He Yu turned back and said rather courteously, "Mr. Xie, Shunfeng's here to pick up your package."
"That's right, I do have something that needs to be shipped," Xie Qingcheng recalled. He retrieved a box from the belongings he'd brought home and walked over. "It's a basic daily necessity to be shipped to Sushi. Please check the order slip."
"All righty, no problem!"
After the delivery boy had checked that everything was in order and was about to pack it up, He Yu, who was standing nearby with his arms crossed, suddenly had the feeling that something was off. "Hold on." He stopped the delivery worker from sealing the box, opened it, and took out the article of clothing inside.
A beat of deathly silence followed.
He Yu, who moments ago had been servile and deferential, emanated a dark aura as he lifted the shirt and slowly turned his head. "Xie Qingcheng."
Without any change in expression, Xie Qingcheng asked, "What is it?"
"…You resold the T-shirt I lent you on Xianyu?"
"You said yourself that you don't want it anymore. Even as secondhand apparel, this shirt of yours is being fought over at the high price of five thousand yuan. If I were to keep it, it'd only become a cleaning rag," Xie Qingcheng admitted calmly. "What's the problem?"
"What do you mean, what's the problem? Don't you know that I have mental germaphobia? I'd rather ruin my things than give them to strangers."
Xie Qingcheng was unmoved. "That's one of the ways your mental illness manifests. This is the perfect opportunity for you to overcome it."
As he spoke, he grabbed the box and shoved it into the bewildered delivery boy's hands. "Ship it. The buyer said they'll pay the delivery fee when it arrives."
"Xie Qingcheng!"
The delivery boy hesitated and looked to either side. "Then…do I ship it or not?"
The concubine: "Don't ship it."
The patriarch: "Ship it."
The delivery boy wiped his brow. "Wh-why don't you two take some more time to discuss it with each other?"
"There's nothing to discuss. If I say ship it, then ship it." Xie Qingcheng's authoritarianism reared its head once more. He shot the delivery boy a glare. "Hurry up. I'm the one who placed the order."
Not many people could handle the daggers in Xie Qingcheng's eyes, so the delivery boy obediently accepted the order and hurried on his way. That left He Yu, who looked like he had a dense cloud hanging over him because his personal belongings had been sold, and Xie Qingcheng, who was in a great mood because he had just made five thousand yuan.
"You're unhappy?" asked Xie Qingcheng. "Then I'll treat you to a midnight snack. Let's go."
He Yu stood there for a while, but he couldn't bear it anymore. Face blank, he picked up his messenger bag from the bed, shoved Xie Qingcheng out of the way with his shoulder, and walked out the door without a backward glance. "You can eat on your own!" he hissed through gritted teeth. "Careful you don't eat through the five thousand yuan you made from selling my shirt all in one go. Save it! And if you don't have enough to eat, give me a call and I'll personally come and feed you myself!"
Hatefully hurling these harsh words in his wake, the young man left Xie Qingcheng's home with his bag slung over his back.
His driver had been waiting outside the alley for a long while. With a cloudy expression on his face, He Yu tucked his long legs inside the car and instructed the driver to close the window. He didn't spare so much as a glance for the bustling scenes of everyday life outside.
"Young Master, are you feeling unwell?" the driver asked. "Do you need me to take you to the hospital?"
"No need." He Yu leaned back against the seat sullenly. "I don't want to see anyone wearing a white lab coat today."
His phone vibrated as a man who wore a white lab coat sent him a message.
"Next Monday, come to my office for work."
With a long face, Young Master He promptly turned off his phone.