Cheng Boyan sat at the table, with a lunchbox and a plate of stir-fried cabbage with minced meat in front of him.

The clay pot rice smelled great, and although the boss had already used as little oil as possible, the dish was still too greasy for Cheng Boyan. He took out all the vegetables and ate the rice with the stir-fried cabbage he had made himself.

When Cheng Boyan was home, he usually didn’t watch TV. Since Xiang Xi wasn’t there, the TV in the living room was off too. There was no sound from the television, no chatter from Xiang Xi—the apartment was quiet, so quiet that he could clearly hear the birds chirping from the other side.

Now that the weather was warming up, the birds were spending more time outside on the balcony and were chirping even more enthusiastically, making the silence inside the house feel even starker.

As Cheng Boyan was washing the dishes, the sudden ring of his phone in the living room startled him.

The ringtone hadn’t always been this loud—because Xiang Xi, who acted half-deaf, always turned the TV volume way up, Cheng had to set his phone to maximum volume and changed the ringtone to an ear-piercing, drum-banging tune.

Cheng dried his hands and picked up the phone to check the caller—Lin He. He answered, “Hello?”

“Boyan! Are you home?” Lin He’s voice came through, mixed with the chaotic background noise of the street.

“I am. What’s up?” Cheng Boyan glanced at the time.

“Come out for half an hour. We didn’t call you earlier ‘cause it was a last-minute gathering and we figured you were too busy, but now that we’re passing by your place, we have to see you,” Lin He said. “I’ve got a bunch of people with me, plus a mystery guest. Everyone says it’s been too long since they saw you and they’re dying of longing. If you don’t come out, we’ll just storm your house.”

“Didn’t we just meet up over the New Year? Hasn’t been that long to be ‘dying of longing,’” Cheng laughed. “How could someone as heartless as me miss you guys that fast?”

“Cheng scumbag says go freeze in a corner,” Lin He was saying something to someone else.

“Cheng Boyan, you ungrateful jerk!” a woman’s voice came through the receiver. “If you don’t come out, I’ll show up at your door with our child to demand an explanation!”

“Xiao Lang?” Cheng Boyan immediately recognised the voice. She had been his deskmate in high school. After graduating college, she’d moved to Australia with her family—they hadn’t seen each other in quite a while.

“You coming out or not?” Xiao Lang said. “We’re literally outside your place, by that sculpture of the naked fruit man. If you don’t come now, I’m leaving, and it’ll be ages till we see each other again—jerk.”

Cheng Boyan changed clothes, didn’t bother driving, and walked to the north gate of the community. There were two cars parked by the road, with a few people standing nearby.

They were all familiar faces—friends of his and Lin He’s. Xiao Lang’s long legs were hard to miss. Standing at 178cm, she came running at him in high heels, and he could actually feel the pressure.

“Jeez, if you really didn’t come out, we would have stormed in,” Xiao Lang gave him a big hug, then stepped back and looked him up and down. “How do you always stay this good-looking?”

“When did you get back? Didn’t even call,” Cheng Boyan smiled.

“Too many errands to run this time,” Xiao Lang brushed back her hair. “Wanted to finish things before getting in touch. Plus, I figured you’d be busy. Last time I called you, you answered with the most Antarctic-cold tone—should’ve recorded it.”

“I had a patient then. You always call at the worst times,” Cheng Boyan put an arm around her shoulder and walked to the cars, greeting the others. “So what’s the plan?”

“Ate too much. Plan is to find a place to sit and let our stomachs settle, then maybe sing some karaoke,” Lin He opened the car door. “If you don’t want to sing, just come sit at a café with us for a bit.”

Cheng Boyan got in the car. The two vehicles pulled away, one behind the other.

Song Yi was driving today, with Lin He in the passenger seat, constantly giving instructions—turn here, change lanes there, watch your distance. Cheng Boyan, sitting in the back, finally couldn’t take it anymore: “Stop the car.”

“What?” Lin He turned around.

Song Yi laughed, “Someone can’t take your micromanaging anymore—drunk backseat driver.”

“And you’re so annoying about it,” Cheng Boyan said. “I’m switching to Chen Pang’s car.”

“No, don’t,” Lin He laughed. “Chen Pang’s possessed by a stock market god lately—he’s been singing non-stop.”

“Oh yeah,” Cheng Boyan thought for a moment. “He made a killing off that CRRC stock, right?… Fine, I’ll tough it out. But you—shut up.”

The group entered a café and found a corner booth to sit down. Cheng Boyan sat next to Xiao Lang and listened to the group chat.

“So, what brings you back this time?” Cheng Boyan asked Xiao Lang.

“Ah,” Xiao Lang smiled, taking a sip of coffee, “I’m getting married.”

“Married?” Cheng Boyan was momentarily stunned.

“Mm-hmm, getting married,” Xiao Lang waved her left hand in front of him, the engagement ring on her middle finger catching the light. “He proposed, I said yes.”

“You didn’t even tell me…” Cheng Boyan sighed, then smiled. “Congratulations.”

“I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how to put it,” Xiao Lang shook her head. “Felt like once I said it out loud, it would really be the end—I mean, emotionally, symbolically.”

“It’s all good,” Cheng Boyan patted her shoulder. “Wishing you happiness. You will be happy.”

“Yeah, I really love him. I want to spend my life with him,” Xiao Lang turned her head to look at him. “But you’re different. You’re a part of my youth. My innocent first love. The jerk who dumped me…”

Cheng Boyan smiled without saying anything.

Whether Xiao Lang counted as his first love was hard to define. His memory of it was blurry—a vague fondness, her taking the initiative, going along with it out of inertia, then breaking it off once he realised some things.

“Jerk,” Xiao Lang patted his leg. “You’re a good person. There’s something I never said… thank you for being honest.”

Cheng Boyan sipped his coffee. He had been the one to end the relationship, telling her the truth—that he realised he didn’t like girls. It was his fault. When Xiao Lang’s friends came to criticise him, he never made any excuses.

For more than a year afterward, he dealt with all kinds of reactions—disgust, scrutiny, curiosity… But he didn’t mind. It was normal. He accepted it all calmly.

“I really hope you find happiness, Boyan,” Xiao Lang said. “That you find someone right for you. You may argue, even fight fiercely—but you’ll never break up.”

“Thanks,” Cheng Boyan said.

*

After cleaning up the shop, Xiang Xi washed up quickly in the kitchen and climbed up to the attic.

The attic really was as low and dark as expected. He couldn’t even stand up straight in it, and it was tiny—just a small bed and a little bedside cabinet, with barely any room to move.

He bent over to spread the old bedding the lady boss had given him, stuffed his bag into the cabinet, then flopped onto the bed and let out a long breath.

The wooden bed was nothing compared to the sofa bed at Cheng Boyan’s place, but he could handle it. He’d even slept in 24-hour bank lobbies. Now he had a job, his own little space, and a bed that didn’t shake—that was enough.

He tossed and turned for a bit, then took out his phone to check it—it was almost out of battery. The attic had only a single light and no power outlets. If he wanted to charge it, he’d have to go downstairs.

Xiang Xi glanced at the time. Calling Cheng Boyan now wasn’t too late, but he held the phone for a long time without dialing, unsure of what to say if he actually called.

Making a phone call was different from talking face-to-face. When he stayed at Cheng Boyan’s place, even if he spoke, Cheng Boyan might not respond, but that never made him feel awkward. However, if he called and Cheng Boyan didn’t say anything, it would be awkward.

After hesitating for a while, he still dialed the number. He couldn’t sleep now, and lying like this was really painful.

The call connected. Xiang Xi listened to the dialing tone—one ring, two rings, three rings... after four rings, he inexplicably felt a bit guilty.

Was Cheng Boyan busy? Reading? Having a cerebral climax...?

He worried this pointless call of his would annoy Cheng Boyan.

“Hey.” Xiang Xi sat up, put on his shoes, took the phone and charger downstairs, put the phone on the table to charge, and then went back upstairs.

He had gotten rid of Uncle Ping, Zhao Jiayao, and the life he didn’t want to live anymore, and at the same time, he had cut off friends—although besides Mantou, he didn’t really have any close so-called friends, but there were still some people he could call to chat with, and now those were all gone too.

Clean and neat.

So clean that in moments of loneliness, boredom, and insomnia, the only person he could contact was Cheng Boyan—someone living in a completely different world, who under normal circumstances would never speak to him unless the heavens had messed up and served leftover food.

Truly amazing.

Sleep!

But you can’t just fall asleep when you want to. After tossing and turning for a while, Xiang Xi sat up again—still unable to sleep.

He stood and paced hunched over in the attic, walking over and back step by step, finally stopping at the window.

This window, located just under the attic roof but actually only as high as his chest, moved Xiang Xi deeply. The attic mainly exchanged air with the outside through it.

But the ventilation was basically done; looking out was almost impossible. The window was a round hole, covered with a wooden board full of tiny round holes.

Xiang Xi stuck a finger into one of the holes. The hole was about as wide as his finger, and once his finger was in, there was no room to turn it.

When the phone downstairs started ringing, Xiang Xi was struggling to pull his finger out of the hole.

“Shit, wait!” He frowned, anxiously shouting. This number was known only to the boss, Fang Yin, and Cheng Boyan. Fang Yin had contacted him before; the boss wouldn’t call him. The call had to be from Cheng Boyan.

Xiang Xi was anxious—he just didn’t understand how his finger, which was quite thin, could get stuck in a hole even thinner than his finger. Right next to it was a much bigger hole—why didn’t he stick his finger in that one?

No no no no no, why did it have to be this hole?!

The phone kept ringing. Cheng Boyan calling was obviously more confident than when Xiang Xi had called. The ringing didn’t stop—one call ended, and the next started immediately.

“Can’t answer the phone! Hang up!” Xiang Xi shouted helplessly, hooked a small stool with his foot, plopped down, raised his arm, and leaned against the wall, suddenly feeling very dispirited. “Damn this damn thing…”

*

Cheng Boyan hung up and frowned. When Xiang Xi called, he had just taken off his clothes and was showering. The phone only rang twice then stopped. He thought it was a prank call and ignored it.

Only after he finished his slow shower did he see it was Xiang Xi. But when he called back, no one answered.

Although Cheng Boyan didn’t want to think this way, Xiang Xi’s lifestyle always made him want to think… had this kid run into trouble again?

Locked in the attic by the boss?

Beaten again?

He didn’t know where Xiang Xi rented a place and couldn’t do much, so he took his phone to the bedroom, put it on the desk, and read while waiting for Xiang Xi to call again.

The phone didn’t ring again until an hour later. Cheng Boyan was just closing his book and about to call back to check.

“Hello?” he answered.

“…It’s me, Xiang Xi.” Xiang Xi’s voice came through.

“Why didn’t you answer before?” Cheng Boyan, hearing his voice was pretty normal, relaxed and leaned back in his chair. “I thought something happened to you again.”

“No, I just…” Xiang Xi sighed, “I just stuck my finger in a hole and couldn’t pull it out…”

“What hole?” Cheng Boyan was stunned.

Xiang Xi clicked his tongue: “A hole in the wall, looked fun, so I stuck my finger in out of boredom, and then…”

Cheng Boyan paused two seconds and burst out laughing, unable to stop for a while, then said with a smile, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh.”

“Laugh all you want,” Xiang Xi said quietly, then laughed too. “I just felt like a complete idiot.”

“How did you get it out?” Cheng Boyan was actually worried about Xiang Xi’s finger but couldn’t help laughing. “Is it hurt?”

“Don’t know how I got it out. I just raised my arm and sat there, then fell asleep. When I woke up, I pulled it out.” Xiang Xi said, “No injury.”

“Blood circulation came back,” Cheng Boyan said, laughing even harder this time. “Sorry, I gotta laugh some more first.”

“Do you have any sympathy? You’re a doctor after all! Where’s your medical compassion?” Xiang Xi shouted.

“Sympathise with what?” Cheng Boyan laughed. “You fell asleep hanging there.”

Xiang Xi said nothing, and after a while, he laughed too. After a long time, he said, “I really did fall asleep hanging there.”

“What did you want to talk about when you called?” Cheng Boyan stood up and put the book back on the shelf.

“Don’t know. Just couldn’t sleep and had nothing to do.” Xiang Xi said.

“I saw you working hard at the shop, running around. Why still can’t sleep?” Cheng Boyan smiled. “You still haven’t fully recovered from pneumonia. You need to rest well.”

“Yeah, after a couple of days I should be fine,” Xiang Xi sniffed. “Actually, not that tired… Have you slept yet? It’s pretty late.”

“I was just about to sleep,” Cheng Boyan glanced at the time. “You should sleep too. Tomorrow’s gonna be busy all day.”

“Then I’ll hang up.” Xiang Xi said. “Good night.”

Before Cheng Boyan could reply, he had already hung up.

*

Cheng Boyan only had time to think about what to eat at noon when he was in the inpatient department.

Noodles? Porridge?

Why so uncreative…

"Doctor Cheng," a junior nurse came into the office, "We're having claypot rice for lunch. Want to join?"

"Claypot rice?" Cheng Boyan looked at her.

"Yeah, didn’t you order it last time? You said you didn’t want to eat it, but that place over on Old Street is really good. Want it today? If you want, you need to order early; otherwise, they won’t have time to deliver later," the junior nurse said. "If you don’t want that, I can order something else for you."

Only then did Cheng Boyan suddenly realise—the junior nurses always liked that claypot rice place, and that was the same place where Xiang Xi worked?

He hesitated a bit: "Okay, I'll have it."

"Sausage one? The sausage is tasty, with some bean sprouts and garlic shoots," the junior nurse recommended.

"Alright." Cheng Boyan nodded.

Xiang Xi happily ran into the hospital carrying a bunch of lunch boxes. The boss said they were short-staffed, so usually they didn’t deliver meals, but there were two places they would: a nearby company and the hospital. Both had been long-time customers.

The boss hadn’t mentioned delivering lunch today and worried Xiang Xi wouldn’t be happy about it, but Xiang Xi didn’t mind making two trips. He could even come to the hospital—maybe he’d bump into Cheng Boyan.

He ran to the inpatient department nurse station, and a junior nurse saw him and smiled: "Oh my, Xiang Xi? Why are you delivering meals?"

"Hello, sister, I’ll be delivering from now on. I’m working here now," Xiang Xi put the lunch boxes on the table and quickly read out all the orders, "Check if they’re right."

"Right," the nurse nodded, handed him the money, and pointed to one box, "Xiao Li, is Doctor Cheng in the office? Take this to him."

"Doctor Cheng? Cheng Boyan?" Xiang Xi immediately asked, "I’ll take it."

"Oh," the nurse laughed, "Then you take it."

When Xiang Xi entered the office, Cheng Boyan was tidying up the admission records he’d just finished writing. He looked up and smiled: "We really ordered from your shop."

"Yeah," Xiang Xi raised the lunch boxes in his hand. "And I’m the one delivering them. Didn’t expect you to eat it. I was even thinking of coming to find you after delivery."

"Try it, have a few bites," Cheng Boyan took the box. "Do you get a commission for delivery?"

"No, only deliver to two places. Commission is just a few bucks," Xiang Xi said. "If you want it next time, tell me in advance. I’ll ask the boss to put less oil. You’ll definitely think it’s too greasy."

"That’s okay," Cheng Boyan smiled. "Wait until you can cook for me yourself."

"Deal," Xiang Xi snapped his fingers, glanced at the wall clock, "I gotta go. Customers are coming. It’s crowded."

"Go ahead. Close the door for me," Cheng Boyan said.

"Okay." Xiang Xi bounced two steps, left the office, and closed the door.

Fang Yin stood at the hospital entrance. Seeing Xiang Xi come out, he raised his camera and took two pictures, then followed him and asked, "Feeling pretty good?"

"Yeah, good," Xiang Xi said, got on an electric scooter parked by the road. The scooter belonged to the boss—used for delivering meals, shopping, errands. It was a Lvyuan brand but old and beat up, barely faster than walking and rattled loudly like it had a whole band on board.

"Why such a good mood?" Fang Yin asked. "Work’s so tiring. When I saw your attic this morning, it was hard to watch..."

"That’s what I said," Xiang Xi turned to look at him, "You and those people who look at photos will never understand how I feel now. Everyone has their own kind of happiness—high or low. Different goals. But some people only want to see the suffering at the bottom. If you think this place can’t capture what you want, you might as well find someone else."

"No," Fang Yin smiled, "It’s good. Because of what you said, I want to follow you."

Xiang Xi really was in a good mood, and had been for many days straight.

The daily work wasn’t easy. Except for the stove work, which he didn’t have to manage, everything else was his. It was tiring and dirty, but made him feel steady. The boss was nice too; he had worked less than a month and still got paid for the whole month at the end.

And now and then, he could run to the hospital. When Cheng Boyan was in the inpatient department, he’d go over to chat a bit, and sometimes he’d hang out outside Cheng Boyan’s outpatient clinic.

Because he was in a good mood, he didn’t even mind Fang Yin, who kept showing up early and late like a spy, hoping to catch him with a miserable face on camera.

He thought working here was pretty good for Fang Yin, who came every couple of days and ordered claypot rice in the shop, eating while watching him.

"You’ve almost tried all the dishes here," Xiang Xi put the claypot in front of Fang Yin, "How about you write a review of the claypot rice journey?"

"Maybe I’ll open a restaurant someday," Fang Yin said, then looked around the shop, "Make it clean and bright."

"That definitely won’t make business," Xiang Xi said. "People come here because it looks messy and old. You can tell it’s an old place with good taste."

Fang Yin thought about it: "That makes sense."

At the boss and boss’s wife’s place, the claypot rice was almost gone. Xiang Xi was about to get some more from the kitchen when someone called out behind him, "Two portions of cured meat, add eggs!"

"Okay, one moment!" the boss replied.

Hearing that voice, Xiang Xi suddenly froze in place, not daring to turn around to confirm.

"The doctor said I need to replenish nutrition now," a woman’s voice complained, "And you bring me this stuff to eat?"

"Just a simple lunch, I’ll take you to something nice tonight," a man said.

Xiang Xi didn’t continue listening, lowered his head, and hurried into the kitchen, wanting to avoid the boss’s call to clear the tables, but it was too late. The boss, while helping his wife plate the food, called out, "Hongtu, go clear the tables over there."

 

 

Translator : DarNan