A row of six dots seemed to float across the awkward silence in the air.
Song Muxiang didn’t say a word, merely staring at Luo Yuan with a gaze that mixed confusion, surprise, and a faint touch of sorrow.
Seeing his silence, Luo Yuan felt his conclusion was completely set in stone. His face twisted into an expression of unbearable agony: “My sworn brother actually went behind my back and engaged in an illicit affair—heaven forbid, lightning strike me down! The two of you, I, sigh… you don’t expect me to babysit for you guys when the time comes, do you?!”
What kind of utter nonsense were these words?
“Did the counselor call you in for the whole afternoon just to give you an ideological lecture? He should have taken you for a psychiatric evaluation,” Song Muxiang said, wishing he could splash the remaining half glass of water directly onto this guy’s head to sober him up. “He’s been abroad for five years and just came back. Were we communicating telepathically across the Pacific Ocean?”
“It’s not entirely impossible,” Luo Yuan argued logically. “Didn’t you go see him off before he left? Did you guys hatch a secret plan back then and sneak off to date abroad later?!”
Song Muxiang put his water glass back on the counter. “Get out of here and stop making up fanfiction.”
Seeing Luo Yuan’s mysterious, ‘I understand everything’ act earlier, Song Muxiang had actually thought Luo Yuan’s brain had magically worked for once to figure things out.
He gently pushed Luo Yuan aside, stretched his back, and walked into the living room, flopping down onto the sofa. “I want to eat crayfish.”
“Can you eat that right now? Let me check Xiaohongshu first.” Luo Yuan naturally walked over and sat down beside him. “It says on here that spicy food is too heavy and bad for the child. I’d better order you some chicken soup instead.”
“I didn’t just give birth, I’m not doing postpartum confinement!” Song Muxiang punched Luo Yuan in the back.
Luo Yuan’s thumb had almost hit the payment button. He turned his head to look at Song Muxiang, who was leaning sideways against the sofa clutching a throw pillow. The clothes on his body hadn’t been changed yet—his casual jacket hung open in messy creases, his hair was squished into a chaotic mop, and his eyes were half-open, staring blankly into space. His whole person looked no different from a stray kitten taking a nap.
If the stray cat wanted to eat some crayfish, then let him eat it.
Luo Yuan let out a sigh in his heart, switched to a different shop, and placed an order for a large portion of non-spicy garlic crayfish.
Leaning against the sofa, Song Muxiang was still organizing the events of the past few days in his head.
He always felt that Xia Zhaoye’s appearance was far too coincidental, almost as if he had come specifically for him. The guy hadn’t even made a sound upon returning to the country. Even Luo Yuan, who was equally close to him, had only just found out.
Song Muxiang raised his eyes to look at Luo Yuan: “I have something to ask you.”
“Hmm?” Luo Yuan was still scrolling through boba tea delivery options. “Ask what? Present your official business, sire.”
“Over a month ago, during that breakup party at the bar with Fang Ran, who did I leave with after I got drunk? Do you remember?”
Luo Yuan tilted his head, his eyes drifting outward as if diving into memory. But his tightly furrowed brows showed that thinking was taking quite an effort. After a long moment, he stammered out, “Uh… are you sure you want to ask me? I don’t think I can find any memory of that night.”
Song Muxiang thought for a moment as well; Luo Yuan seemed to have been the very first one to throw a drunken fit that night.
“You might as well ask Fang Ran instead of asking me,” Luo Yuan said. “She has the best tolerance for alcohol and wouldn’t black out. If you ask me, with her level of drinking, she shouldn’t have gone to Japan to study abroad; she should have gone over to the Russians to down vodka—wait a minute.”
Luo Yuan finally realized something: “Wait, didn’t you run off with someone that night?”
Song Muxiang pressed his lips together in silence.
“Holy shit, if you didn’t bring it up, I would’ve forgotten all about it! When I asked you what happened back then, you even hung up on me!” As memories flooded back, Luo Yuan’s tone suddenly grew excited: “I thought you got emotional after drinking too much and ran off to have a one-night stand with someone! Could it… could it be that the child was from that time…?!”
The more he thought about it, the scarier it got, and the expressions on Luo Yuan’s face grew more and more dramatic. “With how you used to blush just holding hands with your exes, I thought you were a true Platonic lover! Song Muxiang, how could you do such a thing…?!”
“You didn’t keep yourself pure!”
“Get out of here!”
Song Muxiang couldn’t resist grabbing the throw pillow and pelting Luo Yuan next to him. Just as the latter was preparing to continue preaching some grand moral lesson to save a fallen boy, the doorbell rang. Luo Yuan had no choice but to shut his mouth and go fetch the food delivery obediently.
“Sigh, we’ve been friends for so many years after all, I really can’t bear to see you like this.” Luo Yuan lined up the boxes, opened them, and skillfully put on plastic gloves to peel a crayfish. “Let’s say you couldn’t control yourself after drinking, fine, but how could you not take precautions?”
Song Muxiang: “…It’s not like I did it willingly.”
Luo Yuan: “What the hell, it was forced?! You should call the police!”
“I really can’t remember clearly.” Song Muxiang watched Luo Yuan place a peeled crayfish tail into the small plastic bowl in front of him. “I asked Fang Ran, and she said my boyfriend took me away. The phone wallpaper was even a joint photo of us.”
“What boyfriend? Didn’t you just break up that—” Luo Yuan’s hand paused mid-action, turning his head sharply to look at Song Muxiang. “Joint photo? You mean that scumbag Lin Huan?!”
Song Muxiang chewed and swallowed a bite, nodding: “Fang Ran also told me that you kept nodding your head back then, saying you recognized him and that it was fine.”
“Did she drink herself stupid too?! How drunk was I back then, and she actually believed what I said?!” Luo Yuan couldn’t resist slamming his fist onto the glass coffee table, his tone fiercely indignant: “Fuck, so that dead beat Lin Huan wasn’t just satisfied with stalking you, he even took advantage of you being drunk to…”
Song Muxiang kept chewing, saying nothing.
Luo Yuan picked up a crayfish and ripped its head off with brutal force, seemingly projecting a certain someone onto this innocent crustacean.
“That won’t do! You’re carrying his child now, make him take responsibility for you! Wait, no, he forced himself on you, shouldn’t you call the police to arrest that scumbag?!”
“If I let him take responsibility, does this child even have a future?” Song Muxiang spoke in a low, ghostly voice, lacking any real conviction, as if deliberately avoiding the issue. “I’m swamped lately and really don’t have the energy to fuss over it. If I really am carrying his child, I’ll have to give birth to it first before dealing with anything else.”
It sounded so ridiculous. He hadn’t even gotten his graduation diploma, yet he was about to get a birth certificate for a baby?
Looking at his state and recalling the pitiful scene of him lying on the floor asleep when he opened the door earlier, Luo Yuan’s paternal affection almost overflowed. He let out a long sigh and placed another peeled crayfish into Song Muxiang’s bowl.
“Fine, then make sure you stay far away from that scumbag during this time. Don’t let him ruin your mood,” Luo Yuan comforted him. “Let’s stop talking about that jinxed piece of trash. Old Xia is back—do you really not plan to get together with him?”
“Whatever you arrange, I’m fine either way,” Song Muxiang replied.
“I say, the reason you don’t want to see him so much is it because you’re afraid it’ll be awkward and unfamiliar after not seeing each other for so long?” Luo Yuan teased. “I get you. After all, he had zero news for five whole years. Who knows if he still remembers us friends who grew up together?”
He remembers crystal clear, Song Muxiang grumbled inwardly.
“Though I don’t think you need to be too nervous. The two of you were so close back then—how could years of friendship just vanish like that?”
Luo Yuan’s phrase “so close back then” was truly no exaggeration.
Song Muxiang leaned back against the sofa, recalling the first time he met Xia Zhaoye.
Back when he had just started primary school and moved into a new neighborhood, he quickly hit it off with the kids in the residential complex. Song Muxiang had been a wild child when he was little, running around the entire complex playing soccer every day, making himself filthy before going home.
And then he caused trouble.
While playing soccer, he failed to control his kicking power, sending the ball flying straight into the fountain fishpond. The massive splash of water rained down entirely on Xia Zhaoye, who was crouching by the edge watching the fish, drenching him into a drowned rat on the spot.
When Song Muxiang went to fetch the ball, he happened to see the other boy soaked to the bone and completely silent.
Even after saying sorry multiple times, the other boy gave zero response. Overwhelmed with embarrassment, Song Muxiang could only take off his jacket, wrap it over Xia Zhaoye’s head, and bolt as fast as his legs could carry him.
In his pocket, he had kept five yuan he hadn’t been able to bring himself to spend—money originally intended for buying ice cream after soccer. Now, he could only part with his prized possession, offering up his entire net worth as compensation.
He had made up his mind in his heart never to play soccer in that area again, assuming he would never meet the boy again.
Who knew that two days later at the primary school entrance ceremony, he would see that familiar crew cut in the line once more?
Smiling warmly, the homeroom teacher shoved the quiet kid right next to him.
“Muxiang, you have a good personality. Help guide him a bit.”
Song Muxiang looked at Xia Zhaoye in a daze, and the latter turned his head as well, meeting his gaze.
After a few seconds of silence, Xia Zhaoye pulled a five-yuan bill from his pocket and stuffed it into Song Muxiang’s desk drawer:
“You dropped your thing.”
Song Muxiang raised his head, staring at the chandelier in the center of the living room, letting out a quiet sigh: “It’s actually been over ten years already…”
“What did you say?” Luo Yuan didn’t catch it clearly and leaned in closer to him.
“I said you’ve got a hole in your head.” Song Muxiang wiped his mouth with a napkin. “You knew Xia Zhaoye was back, and you didn’t even send your brother a message to check in?”
“Wasn’t I in a hurry to tell you? After all, he was your sidekick, not mine.”
Xia Zhaoye really could be considered his sidekick back then.
He didn’t just help intercept love letters and guard against teachers; even after Song Muxiang broke up with an ex, Xia Zhaoye would sit through a whole night listening to him hurl insults at the scum, passing a couple of tissues whenever necessary.
In a sense, his role had been remarkably similar to Luo Yuan’s mom-like presence.
Song Muxiang shot a side-eye. “Stop calling people a sidekick all the time. Who knows, maybe his whole vibe has completely transformed now.”
It certainly had transformed. He had turned into a flashy guy who sped around in a Porsche wearing sunglasses at night.
Saying that, he tossed the napkin away and turned to Luo Yuan: “You eat first, I’m not really hungry.”
“Full already? You only ate a few bites.” Luo Yuan had been diligently peeling crayfish the whole time and hadn’t managed to eat a single bite himself.
Song Muxiang didn’t answer. He only felt a strange sensation in his stomach.
A wave of nausea made him want to vomit.
He unconsciously scratched his neck a couple of times with one hand, wondering inwardly: Could morning sickness really start after just one month?
Luo Yuan popped a peeled crayfish tail into his mouth. Turning his head, he noticed that Song Muxiang had scratched a large patch of his neck until it was red. Just as he was about to say something, the phone on the coffee table vibrated repeatedly, followed by a video chat screen popping up.
That wave of nausea hit Song Muxiang again. He lowered his eyes to look: “Who is it?”
Luo Yuan picked up the phone, reading the caller’s name while chewing his food:
“Oh, Xia Zhaoye.”
“Wait.”