Seeing him looking all pleased and cocky, Xiao Bing still hadn’t the heart to mention the possibility that Song Xuetan might be love-sick. “My brother is here, I’m going out for a bit, I’ll be back later.”
“Go on, go on.” Yan Qi waved his hand, his mind full of Song Xuetan. With a whole day of intense filming, it was a rare moment to rest, yet the surnamed Song was still running around in his brain, completely unaware of fatigue. He turned over to lie sideways on the rocking chair, the tip of his tongue brushing past the seam of his lips, his sleeve swaying to cover a face full of aftertaste.
Fu Yanle poked his head out, leaning against the back of the rocking chair, and said, “Yo, what are you doing?”
“Shit!” Yan Qi pulled himself out of the nostalgic memory and glared at Fu Yanle. “You scared me!”
“If you do no evil, you don’t fear ghosts knocking on your door.” Fu Yanle stared at him. “From far away I saw you wriggling on the chair like a maggot, with maiden-like hand-covering, are you love-sick?”
Yan Qi felt guilty. “Sick my foot!” He hurriedly found a decent excuse. “I missed my son.”
Another one missing his son.
Fu Yanle was baffled, saying, “When did you secretly add a branch to the Yan family behind our backs? Do uncle and auntie know?”
“They don’t know yet, I plan to give them a surprise.” Yan Qi bluffed casually, “My son is so good-looking, when I bring him back they’re guaranteed to love him to death.”
“Then the day your son returns to the ancestral fold will be your day of death.” Fu Yanle patted the back of the chair, suddenly throwing out a topic. “Ah Qi, you’ve been filming with Brother Xuetan for a while now, and you live in the same house. Answer me honestly, what do you think of him?”
Yan Qi narrowed his eyes, more vigilant than a dog guarding its food. “Why ask that?”
“It’s like this, a friend of mine has some thoughts about Brother Xuetan, meaning to reach out, and I—”
“What!” Yan Qi sat up straight abruptly. “What friend? Do I know him? Why does he want to get close to Song Xuetan? He”
“Stop!” Fu Yanle pressed him down. “Don’t rush, don’t rush, listen to me. He likes Brother Xuetan so much that he’s super nervous, but I think Brother Xuetan is super easy to get along with, so he said I have friendship-filtered goggles on. I thought to myself that makes sense, so I came to ask you. Look, you don’t have goggles on for Brother Xuetan right, your view of him is closer to reality, so”
“So you want to help your friend hit on Song Xuetan?! You even want to make me your tool!” Yan Qi stood up, saying anxiously, “What friend? Lu Minghe or that Li Yan? A playboy still wants to hit on Song Xuetan, they’re not cut out for the same path.”
Fu Yanle raised an eyebrow, leisurely saying, “I don’t think you can put it that way. When a playboy meets true love, it’s possible for him to be single-minded and deeply affectionate.”
“Even turning over a new leaf isn’t worthy of Song Xuetan, let alone it just being possible!” Yan Qi put his hands on his hips, turning around twice in agitation. “Let me tell you, Song Xuetan is very pure, he gets as shy as a shrimp even filming kissing scenes, he can’t outplay those who have seen countless people. You introducing them is pushing Song Xuetan into a fire pit, you’re too bad!”
“Is that so?” Fu Yanle said thoughtfully, “So you think Song Xuetan is exceptionally good?”
“Of course, does his goodness even require me to” Yan Qi slammed a hand over his mouth, blinking twice, and lowered his hand under Fu Yanle’s half-smiling gaze, swallowing stiffly. “I’m doing this for your own good.”
Fu Yanle: “Oh.”
“Really, I really am for your own good.” Yan Qi tried desperately to salvage it. “If you introduce them, what happens if Song Xuetan gets emotional scars and it affects your friendship? Besides, matching a pure youth with a playboy, how are you any different from a pimp?”
Fu Yanle pretended to be angry. “What pimp? Li Yan is a bit unfaithful in love, but the guy is great at doing business, and he has plenty of resources in the entertainment industry. Oh, are wealthy viewers not allowed to seek commercial cooperation with their favorite actors these days?”
Yan Qi was dumbfounded. “What kind of nonsense is that?”
Fu Yanle spread his hands. “Li Yan and his mom are both Brother Xuetan’s fans, you know. The mother and son often watch TV and follow dramas. If you had an idol, and you had to talk and interact with him at close range, wouldn’t you be nervous?”
Yan Qi said resentfully, “Then why’d you say playboy, making me misunderstand!”
“You misunderstood by yourself, you were the one who said the word playboy first, you know. I was just following the conversational flow to express my view, how would I know you’d drift so far off track?” Fu Yanle shrugged innocently, smiling mischievously. “Didn’t expect you to be quite nervous about Brother Xuetan, though.”
“It’s not being nervous, it’s the truth! We’re just not a match to begin with.” Yan Qi muttered, rubbing his ears, rubbing out a rush of scorching red that exposed itself entirely in Fu Yanle’s eyes.
Fu Yanle had heard a word from Yu Jingchen, saying Yan Qi had ghosts in his heart and his gaze toward Song Xuetan wasn’t quite right.
So he hadn’t dropped by on his way to visit the crew today; he had come specifically to test it out. Song Xuetan was as still as a mountain, so he couldn’t probe anything out for now, but this fool Yan Qi was a leaky sieve, full of bluster yet unable to hold back a thing.
It was just that looking at Yan Qi’s foolish appearance, he clearly hadn’t fully woken up to it yet.
Fu Yanle rolled his eyes, patted Yan Qi’s shoulder, and said meaningfully: “Don’t worry, big brother will help you.”
“Huh?” Yan Qi asked blankly, “Help me with what?”
Having slept not a single hour the previous night and pulling an all-nighter at the crew tonight, Yan Qi draped the newly bright sky over his shoulders as he returned to the hotel, feeling as though he were about to go downstairs and kowtow to the ancestors of the Yan family.
It was hot and there were mosquitoes, a double whammy that left Yan Qi with zero appetite, wanting only to lie down under the air conditioner and ascend on the spot. But glancing twice at the central island, it was clean as new; Song Xuetan clearly hadn’t eaten breakfast yet.
During the period of living together, Yan Qi found that Song Xuetan didn’t care much for daily life. He was well-behaved on set eating nutritional meals, but if mealtime arrived while he was at the hotel, he would skip eating whenever possible. Even when coaxed, his appetite was like a cat’s.
No wonder he had so little human vitality when they first met; turns out he really was someone trying to fast from food.
Yan Qi sighed, postponing his sleep plans, turned on the fire to boil a small pot of mung bean porridge, and prepared a small dish of pickled cucumbers, a small dish of stir-fried vegetarian greens, and two boiled eggs. He arranged the bowls and chopsticks first before knocking on Song Xuetan’s door.
He knocked three times, but there was no answer from inside. Yan Qi didn’t plan to knock again, afraid Song Xuetan would wake up and transform into a machine gun, mercilessly strafing him. Contemplating keeping the porridge warm, he took out his phone, preparing to leave Song Xuetan a WeChat message, but unexpectedly the door opened.
Song Xuetan held the door handle in one hand, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe, his eyes not even open.
He really was like a lazy cat.
Yan Qi stared at Song Xuetan’s face, his fingers curling slightly. “I made mung bean porridge, get up and have some before sleeping.”
Song Xuetan forced his eyes open, leaning in to glance at Yan Qi’s face. “You,” his early morning throat dry and hoarse, he coughed once and continued, “Why didn’t you eat outside before coming back? Pulling an all-nighter filming is exhausting, why bother torturing yourself with another trip back.”
Could he not be exhausted? Who was he making this meal for—well, Song Xuetan probably had no idea.
Yan Qi let out a soft hmph, saying, “I’m young, pulling an all-nighter is nothing.”
“But you haven’t slept for two nights in a row. I saw you had action scenes last night too, your brain must have been dragged away by the wire-rigging,” Song Xuetan exposed him. “You even have dark circles.”
Yan Qi touched his eyes and said, “That’s smoky eye makeup, your eyes are broken. Stop talking nonsense, wash your face quickly, come over and eat breakfast. Once you eat, I still have to wash the dishes.”
Song Xuetan said: “You go back to your room and sleep first, I’ll eat and wash them myself—”
An alarm clock rang out from inside the room. Yan Qi reached out, flipped Song Xuetan around, and made a motion to push him inside. “Go on—”
“Crash!”
An object hit the floor, making a sound, and the alarm clock instantly ceased.
Yan Qi gloated, “Your alarm clock is dead, you’ll need to buy a new one—”
“Xuetan!”
A low, raspy male voice interrupted Yan Qi. His expression changed drastically, and he couldn’t help tightening his grip on Song Xuetan’s shoulder. That man inside the room called out once more, his tone overwhelmingly intimate. Incredulous, Yan Qi said, “You have someone in your room? You brought a man back!”
Song Xuetan was stunned by the roar. “Huh?”
“Huh your ass, you still have the face to huh!” Yan Qi suddenly turned Song Xuetan back around, demanding, “Are you in a relationship? You’re in a relationship with a guy!”
Song Xuetan looked at him for a few seconds, opening his mouth to answer, only to feel the grip on his shoulder abruptly tighten in strength, as if terribly afraid of hearing his answer. He found it amusing inwardly, his mouth opening wide. Before he could squeeze out a single word, he let out a yawn first.
“You!” The veins on Yan Qi’s forehead were bulging with strain. “Could you possibly have gone looking for a duck? Huh? Huh! You’re filming right now, I’m working hard pulling an all-nighter at the crew, and when I come back I don’t forget to make you breakfast, but you went looking for a duck for a night of spring breeze, living it up so carefree!”
Song Xuetan said: “Can’t I?”
“Of course not fine, yes, you can, you can!” Yan Qi gritted his teeth. “If you want to whore, if you want to love, roll off somewhere else! You brought someone back and treated me like what?” He glared at Song Xuetan with extreme hatred. “You look for a duck, you actually look for a duck, you, you! What kind of duck is this good? I must take a look to see what kind of gold-inlaid duck—”
“What duck, what duck?”
Fu Yanle popped out from behind Song Xuetan, resting his head on Song Xuetan’s shoulder, looking completely dazed as he said, “What are you talking about first thing in the morning? Roast duck? Who bought it?”
“Yan… Yanle brother?!” Yan Qi’s eyes widened, just hit by the shock of “Song Xuetan brought a man home and they live in the same room,” only to be struck dumb with terror by “this man is Fu Yanle.”
His gaze was like a fierce wolf, sniffing back and forth frantically across the two faces, countless possibilities rising in his mind, only to be suppressed desperately by him. Yan Qi’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he said tentatively: “You two… slept, slept together last night?!”
“What?” Fu Yanle let out a yawn, standing right here, but his brain was still tucked in the bedding.
Song Xuetan kindly reminded him: “Oh, he thought I brought a duck back to sleep with, and that duck is you. The horrified look on his face right now is probably suspecting we slept together last night, and you’re cheating on his older brother.”
“Fucking hell!” Fu Yanle gave a start, instantly waking up. “Yan Qi, you little bastard, is the water in your brain channeled from the Yellow River!”
“I!” Yan Qi gave Song Xuetan a resentful glare. “You framed me!”
Song Xuetan spread his hands. “Didn’t you curse the man in my room as a duck? Or didn’t you misunderstand?”
“I said the man in your room was a duck, I didn’t say Brother Yanle was a duck!”
“But the man in my room is Yanle, so he is the duck in your words. And when you saw Yanle, your first reaction wasn’t a sigh of relief, but rather even greater shock, which means the Yellow River in your brain is churning and flooding.” Song Xuetan flicked the static-cravat on Fu Yanle’s head with his finger, his eyes full of pity.
Fu Yanle’s gaze whipped over. Yan Qi took half a step back and said to Song Xuetan, “Surnamed Song, you’re too bad!”
“I think you’re asking for a beating!” Fu Yanle raised a hand and gave him a knuckle-rap. “Yellow-eyed appraisal of yellow, dirty-minded, utterly detestable!”
Yan Qi rubbed his forehead aggrievedly. “Sorry, okay?”
Fu Yanle acted imperious. “Then why aren’t you hurrying up to fix the food?”
“Oh.” Yan Qi turned and walked away, not forgetting to shoot Song Xuetan a glare over his shoulder. Song Xuetan arched an eyebrow at him, his mouth opening slightly to form a tiny silent shape—idiot.
Yan Qi decided to put some rat poison in the mung bean porridge.
“Go wash up.”
Fu Yanle wrapped his arm around Song Xuetan, pulling him into the room, squeezing in front of the vanity to wash his face and brush his teeth. Fu Yanle was an exquisite gentleman; after washing his face, he still had to go through a morning skincare routine. Compared to him, Song Xuetan was extremely rough—wiping his face dry, he stepped out of the bedroom first.
Yan Qi was dishing the porridge into small bowls. Song Xuetan walked over and waited for a few seconds, but Yan Qi didn’t raise his head, treating him completely like a breath of air.
Putting on airs now, are we?
Song Xuetan bent down, locked eyes with Yan Qi, and pressed a hand to his forehead. “Does it hurt?”
Yan Qi gave him a white look. “The culprit, you were framing me just a moment ago, and now you come to play the good guy, I don’t want it.”
“Wasn’t it you who misunderstood me first? Not only misunderstanding that I brought a duck back to sleep with, but also misunderstanding that I was tangled up in something unclean with a good friend.” Yan Qi opened his mouth to refute, but Song Xuetan raised an eyebrow to stop him. Yan Qi pouted, looking like a little fellow who was both guilty and stifled. Song Xuetan found it funny in his heart, yet still said: “You always misunderstand me.”
Yan Qi caught an obscure grievance in Song Xuetan’s tone, couldn’t help freezing, and stammered: “I, when did I misunderstand you?”
“Earlier you misunderstood that I was angry with you and was avoiding you, playing a tragic romance drama all by yourself. Now you misunderstood again that I lack self-discipline and am messy with a good friend. Both times you failed to figure things out yourself, yet you still have the nerve to shout blindly.” Song Xuetan turned around, his tone dropping low. “Am I really that bad in your heart?”
Finished.
Yan Qi pressed his lips together, saying hurriedly: “I didn’t mean that, you, you…” He couldn’t “you” out anything concrete, his eyes darting around in panic, but his view was filled with pots and pans, none of which could replace him in coaxing Song Xuetan. With no other choice, Yan Qi could only start by offering a dry apology.
“No need.” Song Xuetan lowered his eyes. “Think whatever you want of me.”
The spoon in Yan Qi’s hand plunged into the porridge. He took a step forward, pressing close to Song Xuetan, his mind filled entirely with images of his dad coaxing Madam Qi, and his older brother coaxing Fu Yanle. Those two gentlemen each had their own high-level tricks, but the commonality was lowering one’s posture, 100% attitude, sweet tone, and substantial content.
He racked his brains, and finally squeezed out a sentence.
“Don’t be mad, I’ll buy you something delicious.”
Song Xuetan looked over, locked eyes for a few seconds, abruptly chuckled, and said, “Coaxing a kid?”
Yan Qi shook his head. “I’ve never coaxed a kid.”
“Don’t you have a younger brother?” Song Xuetan sat down, choosing the bowl with the least porridge.
“Oh, I never coaxed him either, he always coaxed me.” Yan Qi turned to wash his hands, peeling a boiled egg for Song Xuetan. A few seconds later, feeling that doing this wasn’t quite right, he also peeled an egg for Fu Yanle.
“I’m here.” Fu Yanle took his seat, disgustedly pushing the bowl of eggs toward Yan Qi. “Filming is hard work, eat an egg to build up your body.”
Yan Qi hummed. “You’re just picky.”
“My older brother isn’t here, so I’m not picky. When he comes back, I won’t have a choice.” Fu Yanle picked up his bowl, drank a few mouthfuls of porridge, put it down, and said, “Hey, Ah Qi, have you called home recently?”
Yan Qi nodded. “I called them all. Madam Qi even said she wanted to visit the crew earlier, but I intercepted her and sent her back.”
“True, the weather is so hot, don’t let auntie toss herself around.” After finishing that concern, Fu Yanle prepared to concern himself with the next one.
It’s just that Song Xuetan’s situation was a bit special. Although Song Xuetan had never talked about his family, ever since they met, he had never seen Song Xuetan’s family members, nor heard Song Xuetan mention them. Even once before, when he was flipping through Song Xuetan’s phone contacts to call Fang Zhouji, he discovered that his family’s phone numbers didn’t exist in the contacts at all, as if Song Xuetan’s family members consisted only of his cat.
For his sense of presence to be reduced to this extent, either his family environment was cold to the extreme, or it was a situation even more unspeakable than coldness.
Fu Yanle didn’t want to inadvertently scratch Song Xuetan’s tender spot, so he asked casually: “By the way, Brother Xuetan, have you been in contact with that netizen friend of yours recently?”
Yan Qi was surprised. “You even have netizens.”
Song Xuetan’s hand holding the spoon stiffened, and he said calmly, “Yeah.”
“His netizen friend is no joke, the two of them can be called a textbook version of childhood sweethearts on the internet. They’ve been in contact for what, ten years now?” Fu Yanle clicked his tongue. “These days, netizens who haven’t met in ten years yet still maintain communication are pretty rare. It’s simply a stroke of fate given by the heavens.”
Childhood sweethearts? A guy.
Yan Qi gulped down some water and asked casually, “Chatting this much, must be similar in age, right?”
Song Xuetan glanced at him, his tone normal: “He’s a few years younger than me, around the same age as you, just in the prime of youth.”
Being able to chat on Song Xuetan’s level meant his emotional intelligence wasn’t low, probably similar to those guys who were great at coaxing young girls. Young, able to speak and coax well, and also long-lasting—Yan Qi buried his head in his porridge, his mood depressed, almost choking to death on the tender, soft mung beans the size of pinheads.
Fu Yanle was still talking about that netizen. Yan Qi chewed on a pickled cucumber and suddenly said: “I have a netizen too.”
“You have a netizen too?” Fu Yanle was greatly shocked. “Good boy, you hide deep.”