Jiang Xu’s parents stayed at his place for three days. Housing in City A is expensive, and his apartment is the most common layout for singles: two bedrooms, one living room, one bath.
One of the two rooms is Jiang Xu’s study; the only livable one is the bedroom. When his parents visit, he always vacates the bedroom for them and sleeps on the sofa himself.
At first he wanted Shen Fangyu to go home, but Shen worried Jiang Xu might feel unwell at night, and they also had to keep the story straight in front of his parents, so he kept making a pallet on the living-room floor and sleeping there.
The living room is spacious, and with tile flooring it’s much cooler than the bedroom’s wood floor. Jiang Xu tried several times to talk Shen out of it, saying he’d catch a cold. Shen didn’t care in the least and drawled, “I haven’t had a cold in over ten years. Not going to happen.”
Mr. and Mrs. Jiang are very health-conscious and dote on their son. Every day they ordered Jiang Xu to be in bed by ten o’clock, lights out.
For the first two nights, because he’s usually drained, Jiang Xu could still fall asleep. By the third night, his body clock, long used to sleeping only a little, kicked back in and he just couldn’t.
After tossing and turning countless times, he gave up forcing it. He opened his eyes and stared lifelessly at the ceiling in the dark for a while; eventually his gaze drifted down and landed on Shen Fangyu’s face.
His sofa is low, not as high as a bedframe. When you lie on it, Shen feels very close, just a slight tilt of the head and you can see him clearly.
Moonlight poured in from the balcony and fell across Shen Fangyu’s face. He seemed to be asleep, very still, barely making a sound. The light cast a faint shadow under the bridge of his nose and made his features look even more defined.
On a whim, Jiang Xu reached out and pinched his nose.
“You trying to murder me?” Shen caught his hand at once and opened his eyes to look at him. “Then you’d better cover my mouth too, or I won’t suffocate.”
Startled, Jiang Xu reflexively tried to pull back. “You weren’t asleep?”
Shen refused to let go. “If you’re awake, I don’t dare sleep. Dr. Jiang’s temper is terrifying. I’m scared.”
Jiang Xu knew he was talking about the day he splashed water on him.
Even though he knew Shen hadn’t meant it as a curse, Jiang Xu was still furious about that matter.
When it comes to the child, the only “parents” are Shen Fangyu and him. Making up a dead mother was no different than making things up about him.
“You’re a doctor, do you think it’s appropriate to go around declaring people dead at the drop of a hat?” he couldn’t help saying.
“I declared my wife dead. Are you my wife?” Shen shot back without thinking.
Jiang Xu choked on that and chose to lie back down, eyes fixed on the ceiling, refusing to look at the source of his irritation.
Having scored a point, Shen arched his brows in triumph. Still holding Jiang Xu’s wrist, he fished out his phone, switched to night mode, and deftly snapped a photo of their intertwined hands. He waved it in front of Jiang Xu. “Attempted murder. Evidence secured.”
Jiang Xu clicked his tongue. Maybe because he knew the more you sparred with Shen the bolder he got, he didn’t bother pulling his hand away again.
After admiring the photo for a moment, Shen tossed the phone aside, then realized he was still holding Jiang Xu’s hand, and Jiang Xu still wasn’t pulling back.
A thin draft threaded through the window frame and brushed over their clasped hands. With the resistance gone, the pose didn’t look like a friendly prank anymore. It looked… like a lover’s intimacy.
Mother Jiang’s offhand comment looped back in his ears, and Shen suddenly felt a subtle awkwardness.
She’d said Jiang Xu wasn’t getting married because of him.
The line sounded ambiguous, and Shen’s thoughts floated, hazy; he couldn’t even say what he was thinking.
Just now he’d only meant to tease Jiang Xu. When Jiang Xu stopped reacting, he should’ve gotten bored and let go. But maybe because that sentence had popped back into his head, he didn’t really want to.
Jiang Xu’s wrist bones were distinct under his fingers; the feel of his skin was very clear.
It was like holding a hot potato, couldn’t throw it, couldn’t keep it, so he could only let the warmth in his palm slowly rise.
Jiang Xu, for his part, clearly hadn’t expected Shen to keep holding on.
In the living room wrapped in night, they fell into a wordless silence, all of their connection gathered at his wrist. He could even feel each pulse beat against Shen Fangyu’s fingertips.
The skin of his wrist felt oddly warm. Jiang Xu cleared his throat, wanting to find a topic to break the strange quiet, but Shen spoke at the same time:
“Are you hot?”
“Can’t sleep?”
…Useless questions, both.
“I’m not hot,” Shen said.
“Oh.” Jiang Xu’s voice was dry. “Then go to sleep.”
“Don’t want to.” Shen took a deep breath and propped himself up so their eyes were level. The little crescent under his lower eyelid curved gently, clear in the moonlight.
“What’s on your mind? What’s keeping you up?”
Jiang Xu glanced at him but said nothing. Shen rested his fingers around his wrist and guessed on his own, “Is it the kid? Are you planning to keep it secret, or…?”
A brief silence. “Keep it secret for now,” Jiang Xu said.
His parents don’t understand medicine like Shen does. Shen knew Jiang Xu’s pregnancy was due to an anatomical anomaly, like having a rare condition, so he could process and accept it. Jiang Xu didn’t know if his parents could.
Shen nodded, understanding it wasn’t the right time. “When you’ve thought it through, we’ll figure it out together.” He paused, then added, “Don’t worry about my parents. I can handle them.”
Jiang Xu’s lashes trembled, and the little mole beneath his eye seemed to tremble with them.
He looked at the young man in front of him, his mood a little unsteady.
“Thanks for everything these days,” he said suddenly.
Strictly speaking, Shen was a few months younger, but when it came to handling life’s chores and social niceties, he was obviously more like the older one, he could smooth out anything, making you think he was frivolous and somehow feel inexplicably steady and safe.
While his parents were there, Shen had truly gone all in. Busy as he was, he kept making time for them, enough to make Jiang Xu, who’d always been on the receiving end of parental care, feel a bit ashamed.
He pre-ordered lunch every day and had it delivered for the two elders; before coming home at night he’d ask Mother Jiang what groceries she needed, then stand beside her to wash and trim the vegetables and chat.
The elders liked to play cards; Jiang Xu had always been too lazy to learn. Shen, however, learned patiently and played with them every night, dealing exactly what pleased them, coaxing Mother Jiang into winning and laughing evening after evening.
When he heard Father Jiang liked calligraphy, he even went to the most famous handmade-brush shop in City A and ordered a rush brush for him. Supposedly the old master there is very aloof and usually booked months in advance, no one knows what Shen said to persuade him.
He was, in short, more attentive than the biological son.
Tomorrow the two elders would return to City B. Shen had bought a pile of gifts and local specialties for them to take back. Jiang Xu knew Shen was good with people, but when you’re treated like this yourself, it’s hard not to be moved.
His parents seemed to be laughing more these two days, and every other sentence had “Shen Fangyu” in it, they were practically ready to make him their godson.
“They finally made the trip and even got a scare. We can’t treat them poorly,” Shen explained.
“Your parents must really like you,” Jiang Xu said offhandedly.
Shen just smiled and let it pass, then switched the topic. “Since you can’t sleep, want to watch a movie?”
Before Jiang Xu could answer, a soft click sounded not far away, the door to his bedroom opened.
Jiang Xu yanked his hand back, buried his head under the quilt, and squeezed his eyes shut. Only after Mother Jiang went to the bathroom and returned did he carefully lift the quilt and open his eyes, right into Shen Fangyu’s smiling ones.
“What are you laughing at?” Jiang Xu’s heart sped up. He glared at Shen and, afraid his mother would hear, deliberately lowered his voice to a harsh whisper.
“Nothing…” Shen’s smile deepened; he whispered too. “Just thinking you’re pretty cute.”
“You’re the cute one.” Jiang Xu rolled his eyes, but because he was whispering, it lacked bite, making the smile at Shen’s lips curve even more.
After being adults for so many years, this sneaking-around feeling felt like something from a past life.
They bickered in hushed tones for a long while, one genuinely angry, the other thoroughly entertained, until the angry one got tired and pressed his index finger to the talker’s lips to shut him up.
Movie time.
With his other hand, Jiang Xu reached around him for Shen’s tablet and opened the local video player.
Unfortunately, the cache list was nothing but surgery recordings.
“…”
“Don’t make that face,” Shen said. “Like your tablet has anything besides surgery videos.” Then his tone turned meaningfully playful. “Though… maybe not only that.”
“I don’t watch that kind of thing,” Jiang Xu turned his face away.
“What ‘kind of thing’?” Shen’s mouth quirked.
Realizing he’d been led into a trap, Jiang Xu: “…”
Watching his expression, Shen kept teasing, “Do you prefer Japanese and Korean? Western? …Or domestic?”
“None of the above,” Jiang Xu said flatly.
“Then what are we watching?” Shen opened the app store and pointed at a bunch of normal video apps. “Pick one.”
“You did mean movies?”
“What else?” Shen said airily.
Having been played twice in a row, Jiang Xu was clearly annoyed. He tapped one app at random, downloaded it at lightning speed, used Shen’s fingerprint to pay for a membership, opened the horror chart, chose a film, and shoved the earbuds into Shen’s ears.
“…No need,” Shen protested weakly, waving both hands. “Really no need.”
But Jiang Xu gave him no chance to back out. He sat up, pulled Shen to sit beside him, and clasped his wrist—making it clear that if he dared move, he’d suffer the consequences.
Shen finally steeled himself and looked at the screen, only to lock eyes with a female ghost the moment he lowered his head. He jolted, went pale, and clutched his chest, while Jiang Xu, triumphant, chuckled under his breath.
“Doesn’t the ghost show up a little too early?” Shen asked feebly.
He soon discovered Jiang Xu’s malice didn’t stop there.
The plot revolved around a midterm exam; the ranking determined the order of death. It was basically a public-service announcement against hyper-competition. As first place, second place, third place died one by one, Shen, perennially a contender for first, looked worse and worse.
The silent house felt cavernous; drafts funneled through the open-plan living room. In the dark, everything looked indistinct.
Shen’s heartbeat quickened. Above his head came faint, almost imaginary footsteps, and maybe even a sigh.
Suddenly there was a rustle at his ear; his shoulder sank as if something settled on it. His heart shot into his throat and cold sweat broke out down his back.
He realized Jiang Xu hadn’t made a sound in a long time, as if he’d vanished.
Then who, or what, was sitting next to him?
Crap. Don’t tell him it was the ghost.
He scared himself with the thought, stiffened his neck, and, after steeling himself again and again, turned his head excruciatingly slowly.
He found Jiang Xu fast asleep against his shoulder.
“…”
This man’s courage must be made of diamond.
Jiang Xu was sleeping soundly. Because they were so close, his breath fell against Shen’s neck, slowly warming the tense, chilled skin there.
The hand he’d hooked around Shen’s wrist as a threat had gone slack with sleep and now lay lightly across the back of Shen’s hand, palm warm and soft.
And for some reason, though the earbuds still pumped out hellish eerie BGM and the victims’ shrieks, Shen Fangyu’s heart calmed down.
Silently, he turned off the screen, took out his earbud, and reached to remove the one in Jiang Xu’s ear.
As he did, his fingers accidentally brushed Jiang Xu’s face. He paused, then lifted his hand again to touch it once more.
The feel was good, just warm enough, to soothe his hand, chilled by fright.
Then, as if catching himself, he drew back, looked away, and sat quietly for a while before looking at him again.
The man had his eyes closed, brow smooth, lips slightly upturned, as if dreaming something pleasant.
A thought bubbled up in Shen Fangyu’s mind: He really is… pretty cute.