When Old Man Lu hurried over from the next room, the back of Hu Hai’s hand was already completely red. Xiang Xi was gripping his hand but didn’t even dare touch it properly, and turned to shout at the old man:

“Do you have any medicine?”

“It’s fine,” Hu Hai said. “Just run it under cold water. The water wasn’t that hot anyway.”

Xiang Xi quickly let go and followed Hu Hai to the sink nearby. “Does it hurt? I seriously didn’t do it on purpose, I…”

“You used his hand to brew tea?” Old Man Lu leaned over.

“That kettle…” Xiang Xi still couldn’t figure out what had happened with it. “The handle was… slippery.”

“Slippery?” Old Man Lu froze for a moment. “Oh, that’s because I…”

“You touched the kettle without washing your hands again, didn’t you?” Hu Hai turned to look at Old Man Lu. “You handled pastry dough with oily hands and then grabbed the kettle, right?”

“I forgot to mention it,” Old Man Lu walked back to the tea table and touched the kettle Xiang Xi had thrown onto the table. “It really is pretty slippery…”

Xiang Xi was speechless for a moment. After rinsing his hand, Hu Hai sat back down at the tea table. Xiang Xi grabbed a rag and wiped up the spilled water on the table, then carefully wiped the kettle all over and even washed it with hand soap.

The old man was way too unreliable!

When Xiang Xi sat back down at the table, he was full of frustration, but it wasn’t appropriate to say anything, so internally he grumbled and lectured Old Man Lu about eighty times.

Hu Hai, on the other hand, was probably used to him. After all, they were master and disciple and had performed together for a long time. He frowned at Old Man Lu: “At the very least, wash your hands after making pastries, okay?”

“I forgot. I was chatting with you and didn’t wash them,” Old Man Lu said with a smile. “Was it badly burned?”

“I was playing the qin; I wasn’t chatting with you,” Hu Hai looked at his hand. “No idea who you were chatting with… My hand’s fine. I’m just telling you to be more careful. If Xiang Xi hadn’t picked up the kettle and you had poured it on yourself instead, would that have felt nice?”

“I was chatting with Xiang Xi.” Old Man Lu pointed at Xiang Xi.

“I literally just came in!” Xiang Xi couldn’t help shouting.

Hu Hai laughed from the side.

“That’s just how he is. He’s not even that old, but he’s already become an old child.”

Even though the whole thing wasn’t entirely his fault, Xiang Xi had still personally poured the water onto Hu Hai’s hand. Looking at the red patch on the back of Hu Hai’s hand — especially since the guy was a musician who played the qin — Xiang Xi felt really guilty.

“Why does it look redder and redder?” Xiang Xi leaned closer to inspect it. “No, I need to ask somebody what to do.”

“Ask who?” Hu Hai smiled.

“A doctor,” Xiang Xi said, taking out his phone and calling Cheng Boyan. “Even if he’s just an orthopedic doctor…”

The phone rang only once before Cheng Boyan answered. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re home already?” Xiang Xi stood up and walked to the side. It sounded very quiet over there; Cheng Boyan was probably already home.

“Mm. Have you eaten?” Cheng Boyan asked.

“Yeah. I just wanted to ask… what should you do for a hot-water burn if there’s no medicine?”

“You got burned?” Cheng Boyan’s previously lazy voice instantly tightened with concern. “Where?”

“No, no — not me! I slipped while pouring water and…” Xiang Xi hurriedly explained.

“You burned your master?” Cheng Boyan sounded alarmed.

“No! I slipped while pouring water and burned my shixiong (NT: senior fellow apprentice under the same master).” Xiang Xi lowered his voice awkwardly. “The back of his hand is all red. What should I…”

“Shixiong?” Cheng Boyan paused. “Where did this shixiong suddenly come from?”

Xiang Xi said quietly: “He’s my master’s other disciple. His hand’s all burned…”

“How old is this shixiong?” Cheng Boyan asked.

“Twenties, maybe thirty? Wait, what does that have to do with the burn?” Xiang Xi was baffled. “I’m asking how to treat the burn! Why can’t you focus on the important part?”

“Oh.” Cheng Boyan’s voice had already lost all the urgency and tension from before, turning lazy again. “Tell your shixiong to find some white sugar, wet it a little, and sprinkle it on his hand. If it didn’t blister or break the skin, there probably won’t be any sign of it tomorrow.”

“Seriously? Isn’t that some fake folk remedy?” Xiang Xi was suspicious. Cheng Boyan’s lazy tone sounded exactly like he was brushing him off.

“I’ve never tried it myself, but other people say it works. Give it a shot,” Cheng Boyan said. “Otherwise, go to the hospital.”

“Alright, we’ll try it,” Xiang Xi nodded. “Go back to reading your book.”

“As if I can keep reading now…” Cheng Boyan thought for a moment. “I’ll wait for you at the intersection later.”

After hanging up, Xiang Xi followed Cheng Boyan’s instructions and put some white sugar on Hu Hai’s hand.

“No clue whether this actually works,” Xiang Xi said.

“Thanks,” Hu Hai looked at the back of his hand. “It should be fine. Stop worrying so much.”

“I’ll go get the pastries,” Old Man Lu stood up and patted Xiang Xi on the shoulder. “Continue brewing tea.”

“Okay.” Xiang Xi placed the washed kettle back on the stand to boil water.

“Wash your hands,” Hu Hai added toward Old Man Lu’s retreating back.

Xiang Xi smiled. For some reason, that sentence made him think of Cheng Boyan, and suddenly Hu Hai started to feel familiar. When the water finished boiling and he resumed making tea, he no longer felt as nervous as before.

“Just make tea the same way you would at home for yourself,” Old Man Lu brought the baked pastries over and placed them on the table. “Relax a little. Don’t deliberately think about every next step.”

“Mm,” Xiang Xi was rinsing the tea leaves. “But I still need to get the whole process familiar first. If I don’t deliberately think about it right now, my next step will probably just be picking it up and drinking it directly.”

“Then drink it,” Old Man Lu said with a laugh. “No matter how many fancy tricks you do with tea, in the end it’s still for drinking.”

Xiang Xi smiled and continued the tea-making procedure. Old Man Lu casually chatted with Hu Hai beside him, talking about tea the whole time.

If someone had tried to teach him all this formally, like in a classroom, Xiang Xi figured he would’ve gotten annoyed pretty quickly. But chatting like this unexpectedly made everything feel very interesting.

“The water temperature was too high,” Old Man Lu took a sip of the tea Xiang Xi had brewed. “Still, it’s not bad.”

“I’ll pay attention next time.” Xiang Xi took a sip too. Honestly, he wasn’t very sensitive to water temperature; he couldn’t really tell the difference in flavour between higher and lower temperatures.

“Tea is something you understand by drinking more of it,” Old Man Lu said. “We do all this preparation to taste the tea at its best flavour — just like how you need good headphones to hear music properly. But people don’t all wear headphones for the same reason. Some wear them just for fashion. There’s still a difference. We should remember the original reason for drinking tea: because we want to drink it.”

Xiang Xi nodded. After finishing the first infusion, he started brewing the second.

Hu Hai ate a few bites of pastry, then stood up. While chatting with the old man, he slowly wandered around the room before finally sitting down at the qin bench.

Under his seemingly casual movements, the strings produced a flowing chain of notes. Back at Yun Shui Fan Xin, there had been too many people and Xiang Xi hadn’t paid much attention to the music, so he hadn’t realized how good it was.

But now, inside the quiet tea room, with the fragrance of tea and the moonlight outside the window, the music revealed its true beauty. As Xiang Xi poured tea into the teacups, the faint sound of flowing water blended with the qin music, creating a deeply calming atmosphere.

Today Old Man Lu was explaining the history of different kinds of tea. While drinking tea and chatting, Xiang Xi surprisingly didn’t feel mentally tired at all — although by the end, it also seemed he hadn’t really remembered much of the actual content…

Around ten o’clock, Old Man Lu checked the time.

“That’s probably enough for today. The buses run until ten-thirty. If you head out now, you’ll still catch one.”

“Mm.” Xiang Xi stood up and bowed slightly. “Master, thank you for your hard work.”

“Not hard at all. When the person listening can understand what I’m saying, it doesn’t feel tiring,” Old Man Lu said with a smile. “Head home now.”

“I’m going to use the bathroom first,” Xiang Xi turned and ran outside. “I drank too much tea.”

After going to the bathroom, he felt refreshed all over. When he returned to the room to grab his bag, Hu Hai was still plucking at the qin strings.

“You leaving?” Old Man Lu asked. He handed Xiang Xi another small tin of tea leaves. “Take this home and drink it.”

“I’m not going back tonight,” Hu Hai said, lowering his head as he continued playing the qin.

“Then stay here. Lock the door for me when you leave,” Old Man Lu stood up. “I’m going to walk around the mountain for a bit.”

Running up the tea mountain in the middle of the night — Old Man Lu said it was just to walk off the food, and Xiang Xi was honestly kind of jealous. When he overate, all he could do was circle around the residential complex with Cheng Boyan, where every three steps there was a kid and every five steps there was an auntie.

After leaving, Old Man Lu headed straight up the mountain behind the house. Xiang Xi followed the small path outward and from far away spotted the silhouettes of the three bodyguards. Pretty dedicated, honestly.

There was only a streetlamp every so far apart on the road. The shadows of the trees stretched between the pools of light, dotted with patches of moonlight. Xiang Xi took out his camera and kept stopping as he walked to snap a few pictures.

The moment he turned out onto the main road, he spotted Cheng Boyan’s car parked by the roadside. Instantly energized, he bounded over half-running, half-skipping.

“How long have you been here? Why didn’t you text me?”

Xiang Xi yanked open the car door and jumped in.

“I was afraid of interrupting your tea discussions,” Cheng Boyan smiled and pulled out a tissue to wipe the sweat off Xiang Xi’s nose. “How was it today?”

“Pretty great. We talked about loads of things,” Xiang Xi patted his stomach. “And I ate a bunch too. Drank a whole stomachful of water…”

“Your master didn’t come out with you?” Cheng Boyan glanced toward the small road.

“Nope. He went up the mountain for a walk,” Xiang Xi tapped the window. “Let’s go.”

“Your… shixiong?” Cheng Boyan started the car and casually asked another question.

“Oh, him? He’s still in the tea room playing the qin. Said he’s not leaving tonight,” Xiang Xi rubbed his nose. “And with his hand burned too…”

“Playing the qin?” Cheng Boyan looked at him.

“I didn’t tell you, right?” Xiang Xi sat up straighter. “He plays either guqin or guzheng — I can’t tell the difference anyway. But remember when we went to Yun Shui Fan Xin and there was someone beside the old man playing music? That was him.”

(NT: The guqin (古琴, gǔqín) is a quiet 7-string scholar’s instrument played with bare fingers, while the guzheng (古筝, gǔzhēng) is a larger and louder many-stringed (usually 21) performance instrument usually played with finger picks.)

“Oh, that was a guqin, not a guzheng,” Cheng Boyan said.

“You can actually tell the difference?” Xiang Xi sounded surprised. “I wanted to ask before, but I felt too amateurish to ask.”

“Just look at the hands. Guqin players don’t wear finger picks,” Cheng Boyan smiled. “Your shixiong is pretty… refined and elegant.”

“Yeah, he’s got style,” Xiang Xi replied, then suddenly remembered earlier. “Man, and I even burned his hand.”

“I didn’t ask carefully before. How exactly did it happen?” Cheng Boyan asked.

“Old Man Lu, obviously! He made pastries and didn’t wash his hands, so the kettle handle was covered in oil. The second I picked it up it slipped, and I poured boiling water all over Hu Hai’s hand!” Xiang Xi sounded frustrated again the moment he brought it up. “Why didn’t the old man wash his hands?!”

“So his name is Hu Hai.” Cheng Boyan said.

Xiang Xi shot him a look. “I’ve realized that all your conversational focus keeps drifting tonight.”

“Really?” Cheng Boyan thought about it. “Yeah. Why didn’t the old man wash his hands?”

After they got home, Xiang Xi put the tea leaves into the cabinet. “Master gave me more tea again. I haven’t even finished the last batch yet.”

“Let’s buy a tea set,” Cheng Boyan said. “So we can make tea at home.”

“No need. You can just steep tea in a cup and drink it,” Xiang Xi said. “Buying a tea set is too wasteful. Even a random set costs several hundred yuan.”

“I want to watch,” Cheng Boyan leaned against the cabinet. “Watch you make tea.”

“What’s there to watch?” Xiang Xi gestured awkwardly a couple of times. “I’d probably just give you something to laugh at.”

“Everyone else has already seen it, but I haven’t,” Cheng Boyan flicked Xiang Xi on the forehead with his finger, then went into the bedroom and came back out carrying clothes. “I want to see.”

“You…” Xiang Xi sighed while looking at him. “Then next time I go there, maybe I’ll ask Master. Maybe he’s got an extra set. If I buy through him, it’ll probably be cheaper. Maybe he’ll even just give me one.”

“You’ve maxed out your stinginess skill tree.” Cheng Boyan laughed as he walked into the bathroom.

Xiang Xi felt that Cheng Boyan could honestly be pretty childish sometimes — and it would happen suddenly and randomly, with absolutely no pattern. Xiang Xi was just learning tea, yet Cheng Boyan insisted on watching.

Originally Xiang Xi planned to ask Old Man Lu about it, but before he had the chance to return to the tea room, two days passed, and Cheng Boyan came home from work carrying a tea set.

“This set should meet the requirements,” he opened the box. “Come on, Master Xiang, inspect it.”

“Master Xiang thinks not only do you have mysophobia, you’re also mentally ill.” Xiang Xi curled up on the sofa. Just from looking at the box, he could tell this thing wasn’t cheap, and it hurt his heart.

“Come over and see what kind of tea set this lunatic got for you.” Cheng Boyan slowly took out the teapot, cups, and the rest piece by piece.

“I can’t walk over,” Xiang Xi collapsed onto the sofa dramatically, face full of heartbreak. “This must’ve cost so much money. Just thinking about the amount makes Master Xiang’s heart ache so badly he can’t even walk.”

Cheng Boyan laughed, walked over, wrapped an arm around his waist, and dragged him up from the sofa half-carrying, half-pulling him toward the table.

“This wasn’t bought.”

“You picked it up off the street?” Xiang Xi immediately turned to stare at him.

“Seriously? If it wasn’t bought, the only other possibility is that it was picked up?” Cheng Boyan sounded helpless from the question. “I asked my eldest brother for it. He has tons of them. He specifically brought this over to me today.”

“You didn’t spend money?” Xiang Xi’s eyes instantly lit up.

“Mm. The second he heard I wanted one, he acted like he’d finally found a soulmate and practically cried while delivering it to my door.” Cheng Boyan said.

“Then let me look.” Xiang Xi shoved him aside and bent over to seriously inspect the set.

“Make tea tonight?” Cheng Boyan wrapped his arms around Xiang Xi’s waist from behind. “We’ll pair it with mashed potatoes.”

The second Xiang Xi heard that, he burst out laughing. After laughing for a long while, he turned back around.

“Are you planning to conquer the world with mashed potatoes for the rest of your life?”

“If not mashed potatoes, then the only option is mixed-bean porridge.” Cheng Boyan smiled.

“Nothing needs to go with it, just drinking tea is enough,” Xiang Xi said. “But these teapots and stuff need to be treated first, to get rid of the earthy smell.”

For dinner that day, Cheng Boyan planned to make some pork rib congee and stir-fried greens. While he was preparing the ribs, Xiang Xi filled the biggest pot in the kitchen with water, tossed the tea leaves and tea set into it together, and simmered them over low heat.

“Is pork rib congee okay?” he asked.

“Mm, yeah,” Xiang Xi glanced at the counter. “What about the dishes?”

“No dishes. Just pork rib congee and stir-fried greens,” Cheng Boyan said.

“…Can’t you stir-fry some meat?” Xiang Xi asked. “The weather’s already starting to cool down. Isn’t eating this vegetarian kind of inappropriate?”

“No.” Cheng Boyan looked at him.

“Then can you at least put more ribs in?” Xiang Xi looked at the ribs. “I’m craving meat.”

“Sure.” Cheng Boyan nodded and added more chopped ribs into the pot. “Feels like I’m feeding a pig.”

“Are you near-sighted or something?” Xiang Xi brought his face close to Cheng Boyan’s eyes. “What family’s pig can look as handsome as me? And be this obedient too?”

“My family’s,” Cheng Boyan kissed the tip of his nose. “My family’s pig can even brew tea. And his legs are really long too — long and straight.”

“Exactly!” Xiang Xi immediately laughed, stepped back two paces, lifted one leg, and planted it on the edge of the counter. “Look at these long, straight legs!”

“Take it down!” Cheng Boyan smacked his leg. “Why don’t you just get in the pot and let me stew you whole!”

Xiang Xi quickly withdrew his leg and hid by the wall. “My leg just healed, and you already slapped it broken again.”

“No,” Cheng Boyan washed his hands and turned toward the living room, “I really need to write out those Hundred Rules now. Can’t delay it anymore.”

“Hey! Hey hey… how did it become one hundred rules now?” Xiang Xi pounced over and hugged him. “I was wrong, I won’t raise my leg anymore. Go cook first and calm down. Writing a hundred ruels will take you until tomorrow…”

“One day I’m really gonna discipline you properly,” Cheng Boyan glared at him.

“Discipline me! Definitely discipline me!” Xiang Xi nodded vigorously while hanging off him and pushing him back toward the kitchen. “How’re you gonna discipline me?”

“Sleep with you,” Cheng Boyan said very seriously.

“You…” Xiang Xi opened his mouth, then after a while finally said, “Is that literally the only thing in your head now?”

“Not really, I think about lots of things,” Cheng Boyan turned back to continue preparing the congee. “Work, food, so tired, this patient is so annoying, when can I go home, hope there’s no traffic, where did I stop reading that book last time… sleeping with you.”

Xiang Xi burst out laughing, leaned against the wall laughing for quite a while before rubbing his face. “Hey, I actually really like you like this.”

“Acting like a hooligan?” Cheng Boyan put the blanched ribs into the pot.

“…Sort of. It’s just when you say things like that,” Xiang Xi chuckled twice, “you’re really cute.”

“That flattery’s a little too obvious,” Cheng Boyan glanced back at him, “but I like hearing it. All the ribs in the pot are yours tonight.”

Cheng Boyan’s pork rib congee wasn’t particularly great either. It was only because ribs themselves tasted good that the congee didn’t end up too bland.

The vegetables weren’t so lucky though. After gnawing on a rib, Xiang Xi picked up a bite of greens with his chopsticks. As soon as he swallowed, he sighed. “You could at least put some oil in it. These greens taste like wild grass. Might as well eat them raw.”

“Then eat them raw. There’s more in the kitchen, already washed,” Cheng Boyan said.

“I mean put in some oil!” Xiang Xi said.

“You think you can stir-fry vegetables with water or something?” Cheng Boyan picked up the plate of greens and held it under the light. “See the oil? It’s not that there isn’t any, just not much. Every day—”

“Ah ah, I know already,” Xiang Xi hurriedly interrupted. “No more than 30 grams a day, two spoonfuls.”

“How about I pour you some olive oil so you can dip the vegetables in it?” Cheng Boyan looked at his miserable expression and felt a little soft-hearted. He himself had been used to eating like this since childhood, but Xiang Xi probably couldn’t adapt so quickly. Mainly because the vegetables already tasted awful, and without oil they tasted even worse.

“Who dips vegetables in oil?” Xiang Xi laughed. “How about giving me some Lao Gan Ma instead?” (NT: a famous Chinese chili sauce brand)

“There’s no Lao Gan Ma,” Cheng Boyan pointed at himself. “Only your real dad.”

“Dad, give me a little soy sauce then,” Xiang Xi sighed.

“Okay.” Cheng Boyan went into the kitchen and poured him about half a spoonful of soy sauce.

After dinner, the tea set being boiled with tea leaves was finally done too. Cheng Boyan was eager to drink tea, so Xiang Xi took all the tea-ware out of the pot and arranged it on the coffee table.

“Wait,” Cheng Boyan sat down in the middle of the sofa. “Give me the camera. I want to take some pictures.”

“Oh,” Xiang Xi went to hand him the camera. “You really…”

Cheng Boyan adjusted the settings on the camera, then waved his hand. “Begin.”

“Can I sit on the sofa?” Xiang Xi stood across the tea table staring at him. “Am I supposed to squat while making tea?”

“Isn’t there that little leather stool in the study? Sit on that. I’m sitting here on the sofa so I can slowly admire the view.” Cheng Boyan held the camera pointed at him.

Xiang Xi had no choice but to fetch the little stool from the study and sit across from him, lowering his head as he slowly began brewing tea.

Logically speaking, with Cheng Boyan sitting opposite him holding a camera aimed directly at him like this, he should have been nervous. But he wasn’t. From measuring the tea leaves, warming the cups and teapot, to rinsing the tea and brewing it, he remained completely relaxed.

It felt like something completely ordinary — doing an ordinary thing in front of someone who made him feel safe. Just two people drinking tea together. Everything they did was enjoyment: enjoying the faint fragrance of tea gradually spreading through the air, enjoying the quiet time spent together.

Of course, maybe that wasn’t all. Another reason he wasn’t nervous might have been because Cheng Boyan was an amateur anyway — a guy who usually only drank mint leaves steeped in water probably couldn’t appreciate much beyond the surface.

At first, Cheng Boyan watched Xiang Xi through the camera screen. After taking a few shots, he lifted the camera to his eye and looked at him through the viewfinder.

A viewfinder was a magical thing. It was like it blocked out all distractions, leaving only Xiang Xi in front of him, head lowered in concentration over water and tea leaves.

Xiang Xi’s hands were beautiful — slender, long fingers with strength in them. The tea utensils moved back and forth through his hands with an easy, relaxed rhythm. Cheng Boyan narrowed his eyes slightly.

Usually, the tea-brewing he saw was done by pretty young women, graceful like dancing. In his imagination, Xiang Xi should have looked elegant too, or perhaps like Elder Cheng — immortal-like and refined. But Xiang Xi was neither.

The same sequence, the same concentration, yet Xiang Xi gave off a completely different feeling. There was more free-spirited ease and casual confidence to him.

Very handsome.

After the tea was brewed, Xiang Xi placed a cup in front of him. “Drink.”

The moment Cheng Boyan heard that blunt, carefree “Drink,” he set down the camera and laughed. The scene actually wasn’t all that different from the image he’d imagined before of Xiang Xi making tea.

Unexpectedly though, it was pretty seductive.

He picked up the cup and took a sip. “Good tea.”

“This brew is strong. You probably won’t like it if you’re not used to tea,” Xiang Xi took a sip too. “I’ll make the next one lighter for you.”

Cheng Boyan said nothing, just leaned back against the sofa watching him.

“What?” Xiang Xi put down his cup and asked.

Cheng Boyan smiled. “I really want to discipline you.”

 

Translator : DarNan