The call hadn’t lasted more than a few minutes before it ended. Cheng Boyan said he was a bit tired and would read for a while before getting ready to sleep.

Xiang Xi felt that Cheng Boyan was a truly amazing person—already sleepy and exhausted, yet he still wanted to read. Xiang Xi casually picked up his own storybook; after flipping just two pages, he was already yawning nonstop.

He put the book down and immediately felt full of energy. So he picked the book back up and opened it again—only to let out another huge yawn, so wide his jaw nearly dislocated…
People really couldn’t be compared to one another!

Xiang Xi gave up on reading, lay on the bed, closed his eyes, and listened to the TV.

He didn’t know which channel it was, but they were playing an old Hong Kong comedy movie. Back when it first aired, he had watched it together with Uncle Ping.

Uncle Ping had laughed so hard he was practically out of breath. Squatting off to the side, Xiang Xi couldn’t figure out what was funny at all—he just thought everyone in it looked pretty stupid. In the end, because he hadn’t laughed along with Uncle Ping, he’d been kicked out in winter and made to stand outside for over an hour.

Now, after all these years, seeing the movie again, he suddenly found it hilarious. The people were still stupid—no, even stupider—but for no clear reason he just wanted to laugh, eyes closed, listening and chuckling along.

He laughed so hard even he couldn’t quite take it anymore.

A change in one’s state of mind can alter many things. Even though Xiang Xi didn’t want to admit that his current mood was making something this stupid seem so funny, he still had to admit that right now, he simply wanted to laugh.

To stop himself from grinning like an idiot again, he changed the channel. It was broadcasting local job listings.

He turned his head and watched the TV. There were quite a few listings in a row, and he read them carefully, only to discover that nowadays, doing anything required academic credentials—even stir-fry cooks were required to have a middle-school education.

Someone like him, who didn’t even have a kindergarten diploma…

Xiang Xi had been thinking for a long time about signing up for a training course. He set his own expectations pretty low: the first step was just to muddle through and learn some common, practical skills—enough that he’d have something to rely on, something that wouldn’t let him be replaced at will.

When Cheng Boyan had first talked to him about tea, he hadn’t reacted at all. It was only later that he gradually understood—Cheng Boyan probably wanted him to learn tea ceremony?

Did tea ceremony require academic credentials?

Wasn’t he… a bit too far away from this sort of thing?

Which screw in Cheng Boyan’s head had been twisted into a braided knot for him to want Xiang Xi to try this?

He suddenly felt a little afraid. Anything he felt he couldn’t get a handle on scared him. Even challenges required confidence.

But the next day at work, while listening to Zhang Xin chatting with Yu Baoquan, that fear suddenly eased.

“Nowadays making ten to twenty thousand a month is easy, and you even have to book in advance,” Zhang Xin said as she straightened the price tags on the shelves. “I really admire her—she’s willing to learn.”

“What?” Xiang Xi perked up the moment money was mentioned and immediately leaned in to ask.

“She’s talking about a distant cousin,” Yu Baoquan said with a sigh. “Didn’t study much, but now she easily makes ten to twenty thousand a month on her own skills. I think she just seized the opportunity—she started when hardly anyone else was doing it.”

“What kind of work pays that much?” Xiang Xi pressed.

“Postpartum nanny,” Zhang Xin said. “She used to work as a regular domestic helper—low pay and exhausting. Later she went to study. Don’t be fooled by her lack of education; she’s willing to put in the hard work. She’s got the whole system down—how to scientifically care for women in postpartum recovery, step by step—and she’s got a good personality too. The families all really like her. Her clients are booked almost to the end of the year now.”

“Postpartum care?” Xiang Xi froze. That was definitely not something he could do.

Still, the words opportunity, no academic credentials, and willing to put in the work stuck with him. Leaning against the shelf, he thought in silence for a long time.

“What are you thinking about?” someone asked, patting him on the shoulder from behind.

Xiang Xi jumped in surprise. Turning around and seeing it was Zhang Xin, he smiled a little awkwardly. “I…”

“Perk yourself up a bit,” Zhang Xin said with a smile. “Today Brother Song said we’re switching fast-food places to try something new. No other calls coming in, so we were talking about drawing lots. Whoever draws it runs the errand.”

“I’ll go,” Xiang Xi said. “No need to draw.”

“It’s pretty far,” Zhang Xin thought for a moment, then handed him some money. “Take my car.”

“I’ll drive Baoquan’s. Your little pink car—I’d be too embarrassed,” Xiang Xi said with a laugh, taking the money and asking Yu Baoquan for the keys.

“Oh right, pick up a box of medicine for Brother Song too,” Zhang Xin added, handing him a slip of paper with the name written on it. “His rhinitis is acting up—he’s been sneezing all morning in the office, sneezing and cursing at the same time.”

“Got it.” Xiang Xi glanced at the paper. Four characters—he didn’t even recognize the first one. He quickly stuffed the paper into his pocket and ran out.

This residential area was pretty dense, but the fast-food places were all clustered on another street. Xiang Xi rode Yu Baoquan’s little electric scooter, letting the wind rush past him all the way over.

The sun was blazing today, but the wind was strong too. Even under the sun, Xiang Xi didn’t feel all that hot. His mind kept circling around the words: opportunity, putting in the work…

After parking the bike, he felt that there was really no need to think too much. Cheng Boyan understood more than he did and saw farther into the future than he could. If Cheng Boyan thought he could give it a try, then he could give it a try—the only thing he really needed to consider was whether he was willing to put in the hard work.

Before buying the food, Xiang Xi first went into a pharmacy to buy medicine for Song Yi.

“What medicine are you buying?” the pharmacy clerk asked him.

“For rhinitis… let me see…” Xiang Xi took out the slip of paper and tried to read the name. “What… lei ding… no, he… no, lei ta ding?”

“Loratadine?” the clerk said with a smile. “Over here.”

“Mm, loratadine. (NT: lǜ lěi tā dìng in pinyin)” Xiang Xi repeated it, conveniently memorizing it—this character was pronounced lü.

(NT: 氯 (lǜ), which means chlorine. Commonly confused with 绿 (lǜ, green) by learners hence XX reaction)

Characters related to medicine were always especially weird. Xiang Xi felt he really ought to buy a book called Going to the Pharmacy with Dad.

After buying the medicine, he turned onto a street lined with small eateries. There were lots of fast-food places, and he wanted to find one with a fuller selection—rice dishes, noodles, everything. The old place only did Sichuan-style food.

As he was wandering around, Xiang Xi looked up and saw a small shop ahead with quite a crowd gathered outside. Hunan steamed dishes? His interest was immediately piqued. He quickened his pace and walked over—so many people meant the food had to be good…

“Did I cut in line ahead of you? Did I fucking cut in front of you?!” a man’s roar rang out.

Xiang Xi froze—so they were arguing?

“Cutting in line behind me is still cutting in line,” a woman’s voice said calmly, unhurried. “Just because I’m standing in front doesn’t mean I can’t call you out.”

That voice made Xiang Xi stop mid-step just as he was about to leave. It sounded familiar.

“What’s it got to do with you? Whether I’m right or wrong, do I need you to say it? Are you my mom or my wife?” the man continued yelling. “Nobody behind me is saying anything!”

“Just because no one says anything doesn’t mean you’re right,” the woman replied, still calm. “If I were your mom, you wouldn’t be standing here cutting in line and yelling at people today. And I’m definitely not your wife—you probably won’t be able to marry anyone anyway.”

It was Director Xu.

Xiang Xi looked at the woman arguing with the man, completely composed. There was no mistake—this was Cheng Boyan’s biological mother, Director Xu.

“I’ll fuck your ancestors! Believe it or not, I’ll slap you!” the man shouted, pointing at Director Xu.

“If you were really in the right,” Director Xu glanced at him, “would you still need to resort to hitting people?”

The man said nothing and directly raised his arm.

“What are you doing?!” Xiang Xi shouted. “You fucking dare lay a hand on her?!”

Xiang Xi had never thought his voice was particularly loud. Cheng Boyan often said it was, but he’d never really felt it. Yet after this shout, everyone around turned their heads as if startled. Director Xu even flinched slightly when she turned—apparently his voice really was pretty piercing?

The man was also stunned by the shout. Xiang Xi pointed at him and strode over. “You’re a grown man cutting in line and still have the nerve to curse people?”

If this had happened before, Xiang Xi definitely wouldn’t have gotten involved. At most, he’d squat somewhere shady and watch the drama—and to be honest, he himself hadn’t cut in line any less than others.

But today he had to step in. This was Cheng Boyan’s own mother. And this guy looked like a withered branch and fallen leaves, obviously the tough-on-the-outside, weak-on-the-inside type. He couldn’t win an argument against a woman and got verbally shredded; if he really dared to fight, he’d have done it long ago.

“What the hell’s it got to do with you?” the man glared at him, shoved Director Xu aside, and walked toward Xiang Xi. “Who the fuck do you think you are, Lei Feng?”

(NT: Lei Feng was a young Chinese soldier idealized as a symbol of selfless helping and moral devotion, and today his name is often used jokingly to call someone overly saintly or meddling.)

Xiang Xi didn’t speak. Watching the man walk over, he rolled up his sleeves, turning his short sleeves into sleeveless ones, revealing a tattoo on his upper right arm.

“You asking what rank I am? Even the dogs in my house don’t argue with women. And you—some toe-licking nobody—what are you acting tough for?” Xiang Xi said. As he spoke, he caught sight of Director Xu pulling out her phone—probably to call the police. A family heirloom move? He wondered if Director Xu would also open a flashy animated “110” dial screen…

The man truly didn’t dare to hit him, but he still rushed over and shoved Xiang Xi hard in the shoulder. Xiang Xi shifted slightly; the shove didn’t land solidly. The man turned, clearly intending to push again.

Xiang Xi knew that if he started pushing back, given this guy’s pissy temperament, the two of them would end up performing a round of tai chi push-hands for everyone to see.

You push me once, I push you once, you push again, I push again—something he’d stopped playing when he was five. Either fight, or leave. There were no middle options.

And the man’s behaviour finally sparked dissatisfaction among the onlookers. After missing Xiang Xi twice and just as he was about to lift his leg, several people stepped in and pulled him away, all starting to criticize him at once.

“Police!” Director Xu suddenly waved her hand at that moment. “Over here! Over here!”

Xiang Xi froze. When he turned his head and actually saw a 110 police car, he was shocked—Director Xu had really called the police!

“Don’t leave,” Director Xu grabbed the man who was trying to back away. “Weren’t you very confident you were right? Go explain your reasoning to the police.”

Xiang Xi was shocked again. Director Xu was really stubborn to the bone. The guy was already trying to retreat—why not just let him go? She even grabbed him!

“Fuck your mother,” the man cursed viciously and flung his arm.

Director Xu  was stumbled by him. Her footing slipped, she twisted her ankle slightly, and immediately frowned.

Xiang Xi saw this and instantly exploded with anger. He rushed up and swung a punch straight into the man’s lower back. The man wasn’t prepared; clutching his waist, he yelped. Xiang Xi grabbed his wrist, twisted it back, lifted it, and dragged him toward the police car. “You’re not leaving today!”

Xiang Xi didn’t even know what had gotten into him—he was this fierce and valiant. He’d even forgotten his lifelong habit of detouring whenever he saw police.

It wasn’t until he’d dragged the man all the way to the officers, who then frowned, scolded the man thoroughly, and let him go, that Xiang Xi suddenly snapped back to his senses.

He looked at the police and felt like he’d almost forgotten how to walk.

“Thank you, young man,” Director Xu said beside him.

“Ah… no… no problem,” Xiang Xi said. He realized Director Xu didn’t seem to recognize who he was. Just as he was thinking that her memory was really that bad, he turned and saw the police—and immediately felt like kneeling again. “Officer… can I leave?”

“Go ahead,” the policeman said, amused. “What, you want to ride along with us?”

“No no no no no,” Xiang Xi said quickly. “I’ll… I’ll just stand here and see you off.”

After the police car drove away, Xiang Xi wiped his forehead—he was already breaking out in sweat.

“Thank you,” Director Xu smiled at him. “But when you help people in the future, you really shouldn’t talk like that. You were too aggressive—it’s easy to get yourself into trouble.”

“Ah, I’ll be careful,” Xiang Xi nodded repeatedly. “I saw that you’d called the police, so I hurried up and rushed in.”
He thought to himself: You didn’t rush in—you went straight for verbal attack…

“Even so, you still shouldn’t,” Director Xu said with a smile.

“A—uh… big…” Xiang Xi wanted to call her Auntie, but she looked far too young. He considered Big Sis, but no matter how young she looked, she was still Cheng Boyan’s mom. After agonizing for a while, he finally said, “Auntie, I really didn’t expect you to call the police.”

“I was afraid you’d start fighting,” Director Xu said with a smile. “If you wait until the fight actually breaks out to call the police, it’s already too late.”
With that, she turned and rejoined the line from before.

After all that commotion, Xiang Xi felt too embarrassed to buy lunch for his coworkers at that steamed-dishes place. He turned and walked farther down the street instead.

Fortunately, there were several steamed-dish restaurants along this street. After looking around, Xiang Xi picked one that looked especially appetizing. At a shop that offered delivery, he grabbed a menu, ordered several different dishes to go, and carried them back to the supermarket.

He’d originally wanted to call Cheng Boyan and tell him that Director Xu was truly an upright and righteous director, but after thinking it over, he didn’t call. Director Xu hadn’t recognized him, and it wasn’t like he’d really helped that much anyway…

When he delivered the medicine to Song Yi’s office, Song Yi was sprawled over the desk, face toward the floor, sneezing nonstop. Between sneezes, he cursed, “I’ll fuck your ances—tors!”

“Brother Song,” Xiang Xi hurried over and set the medicine on the desk. “I bought your medicine.”

“Xiang Xi?” Song Yi didn’t lift his head. He sneezed toward the floor again, then waved his hand with a heavy nasal tone. “Go eat. Don’t just stand around sightseeing.”

Xiang Xi smiled and left the office.

“Xiang Xi,” Yu Baoquan said while eating, giving him a thumbs-up. “You picked a good place.”

“I think so too,” He Xiaoru said softly from the side. “It’s pretty tasty. Sister Xin said we’ll order from this place from now on.”

“I got their phone menu too,” Xiang Xi said, setting it on the table. “They’ve got two sections—also sell noodles and buns and stuff.”

“I really like their rice—it's quite soft,” He Xiaoru said while eating, then looked up at Xiang Xi. “What do you think?”

“I haven’t really eaten yet,” Xiang Xi said, taking his lunch box and eating a couple bites. “Tastes about the same to me. Is it that your teeth aren’t very good?”

He Xiaoru didn’t say anything. She looked a little embarrassed and kept eating.

“Xiang Xi, you really are something…” Yu Baoquan laughed from the side, then glanced at He Xiaoru. “You’re so thin—maybe it’s because you only like rice and don’t like vegetables? We all judge the food by the dishes; only you judge it by the rice.”

He Xiaoru smiled faintly but still didn’t speak.

After the meal, He Xiaoru went out and Zhang Xin came in to eat.

“Xiang Xi, you were really a bit that just now,” Yu Baoquan said while wiping his mouth, patting Xiang Xi on the shoulder. “That’s no way to talk—you made Xiaoru so awkward she couldn’t even respond.”

“What happened?” Zhang Xin asked. “Xiang Xi is usually pretty smooth with words.”

“Clueless about romance, nothing to do with being smooth,” Yu Baoquan said quietly. “She said the rice was soft and tasty and asked whether he liked it. He replied with ‘Are your teeth bad?’”

“Oh my—” Zhang Xin burst out laughing when she heard that. “Xiang Xi, you… didn’t you notice? Xiaoru’s quite—”

“No,” Xiang Xi immediately thought of that heart-shaped pink box and the chocolates Cheng Boyan had eaten. He hurriedly waved his hands. “There’s nothing between me and her—”

“Who said you and her?” Zhang Xin clicked her tongue. “It’s she toward you—”

“You don’t like her?” Yu Baoquan looked surprised at Xiang Xi’s reaction. He slung an arm around Xiang Xi’s shoulders and whispered, “Damn, you don’t like her?”

“Ah,” Xiang Xi was sweating from the question. “I look at her the same way I look at you—just… coworkers.”

“Your standards are that high?” Yu Baoquan grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “Xiaoru’s so pretty, with such a nice personality—and you don’t like her?”

High standards?

Xiang Xi had never thought about that. He’d never really thought about liking or not liking anyone before. There were plenty of girls around him in the past, but he’d never seriously examined his feelings… until—

Did what he felt for Cheng Boyan count as liking?

Did it?

Probably?

If that counted… then were his standards high?

When it came to Cheng Boyan… yeah, that really was something he could say with a straight face—having high standards.

Thinking this, Xiang Xi couldn’t help laughing, chuckling stupidly for quite a while.

“You okay?” Yu Baoquan stared at him.

“Relapse,” Zhang Xin laughed, kicking him lightly. “What are you grinning about? Get back to work. You two fix up the shelves this afternoon—didn’t we say yesterday we’d move the daily necessities section inward? Do it when it’s less busy.”

“Okay,” Xiang Xi nodded, still chuckling as he left the locker room.

Ever since the day he’d made those scorched rice-flavoured chocolates at Cheng Boyan’s place, Xiang Xi felt that some things were different from before. Aside from being in a particularly good mood, he’d also realized just how busy Cheng Boyan was.

They hadn’t met that often before anyway—maybe a call every one or two days. But now he suddenly noticed that Cheng Boyan was often too busy to answer calls, and his time getting home was always uncertain. Being an hour late was common; being on time was occasional.

So doctors were really this busy.

Cheng Boyan had said on Thursday they’d go to a tea house on Friday night. Friday didn’t work—surgery delayed him getting off work. So they planned for Saturday; Saturday also fell through. When they said they could go on Sunday since it was his day off, Xiang Xi sighed.

“Just tell me when your car is actually parked outside the supermarket,” Xiang Xi said. “Aren’t you still on duty today? Won’t you end up sleeping all day tomorrow?”

“I’ve never slept an entire day,” Cheng Boyan laughed. “Alright—then I’ll call you when my car reaches your supermarket.”

“Okay,” Xiang Xi smiled. “Want me to grab you something to eat?”

“A picnic?” Cheng Boyan said. “I haven’t been exercising much lately. I’m cutting back on snacks—gotta control my body weight.”

“Heavens,” Xiang Xi clicked his tongue. “You’re exhausted every day like a grandson. You still have weight to control?”

(NT: colloquial expression meaning extremely tired, like a child who’s spoiled or pushed around)

“Whether I have weight to control or not, you can try and see,” Cheng Boyan laughed. “Alright, I won’t keep talking. I’ve still got a pile of medical records to write. Wait for my call.”

After hanging up the phone, Xiang Xi stood there holding his phone for a long while before suddenly realizing what Cheng Boyan’s last sentence had meant. In an instant, he felt heat burn from his face all the way down to his chest.

Images of those mind-refreshing little films (NT: porn films) flashed before his eyes, and he couldn’t help muttering under his breath, “Per—vert!”

At noon on Sunday, Xiang Xi was helping the old man who collected recyclables tie up a pile of cardboard boxes at the entrance. A car horn sounded behind him. He turned around and saw Cheng Boyan’s car—and half of Cheng Boyan’s face leaning out the window.

So handsome.

Xiang Xi straightened up and smiled at Cheng Boyan, but at the same time he remembered that sentence from yesterday, and the smile was instantly scorched flat on his face.

“Wait a second!” he shouted.

Cheng Boyan nodded and closed the window.

Xiang Xi went into the little back room to change clothes. When he came out, the shift leader for the day stuffed two bottles of sample yogurt into his hands. “Going out with a friend?”

“Yeah, going to… drink tea,” Xiang Xi took the yogurt. “Thanks.”

“Why thank me? It’s just samples,” the shift leader laughed. “Drinking tea—such an elegant activity.”

“Just messing around,” Xiang Xi said, clutching the yogurt and running out of the supermarket.

Elegant activity?

If not for Cheng Boyan, the only contact he’d probably ever have with such “elegant” activities in his whole life would be watching Uncle Ping hold a teapot and pretend to be cultured.

“Didn’t you say you weren’t bringing food?” Cheng Boyan looked at the yogurt in his hands.

“It’s free—promo samples the clerk put out,” Xiang Xi smiled and handed him one bottle. “Don’t you like milk? Yogurt’s nutritious too, right?”

“Mmm,” Cheng Boyan took a sip. “Now you can even take advantage of your workplace. Nice.”

Xiang Xi chuckled. Taking advantage of things wasn’t exactly noble, but he was happy—because he had this job, coworkers he got along with, and only then could he enjoy benefits like this. Suddenly, taking advantage came with a sense of happiness—an ordinary person’s kind.

“Did you change clothes too?” Cheng Boyan looked at him.

“Yeah,” Xiang Xi nodded, taking a sip of yogurt.

“It’s not even your work uniform—why change?” Cheng Boyan asked.

“Because of you,” Xiang Xi clicked his tongue. “I helped coworkers this morning and was all sweaty. What if you smelled me and threw me into disinfectant?”

“Do you still smell now?” Cheng Boyan said, leaning over. His face came close to Xiang Xi’s ear, and he whispered, “Let me smell.”

Xiang Xi was gripping the yogurt bottle, still holding a mouthful, and when Cheng Boyan leaned in, he instantly tensed up.

The car hadn’t driven off yet!

It was still parked right outside the supermarket!

Three coworkers were inside!

And the old man bundling cardboard was still right there!

And Cheng Boyan just leaned in like that.

Xiang Xi was nervous—but he didn’t move. He… couldn’t bear to move.

He liked hearing Cheng Boyan speak softly by his ear, liked the feeling of Cheng Boyan’s breath brushing his face and neck—so comfortable it made him want to stretch lazily.

Cheng Boyan’s lips lightly landed on his earlobe.

Xiang Xi’s hand trembled slightly, and then when he lifted his eyes, he saw a coworker walking out of the supermarket.

Fuck!

He jolted in fright. When he tried to speak, he realized he still had yogurt in his mouth—he choked as soon as he opened it, and a mouthful of yogurt sprayed out, with a bit of yogurt foam splashing onto Cheng Boyan’s hand.

It’s over!

A cleanliness freak like him—wouldn’t he be grossed out enough to faint?!

Xiang Xi hurriedly tried to push Cheng Boyan away. When his hand swung out, Cheng Boyan had also seen the coworker and was already leaning back toward the driver’s seat—Xiang Xi’s palm landed squarely on his nose.

Slap.

Xiang Xi froze the moment he heard the sound, holding his hand up and staring at him.

If you want to slap, then slap—slap beautifully. Xiang Xi inexplicably sang a line in his head.

“Want to curse me one more time?” Cheng Boyan said, his eyes watering from the slap, frowning as he covered his nose.

“Huh?” Xiang Xi stared at him.

“‘You filthy pervert! Freak!’” Cheng Boyan said, pinching his voice.

 

Translator : DarNan