Back when Xuan Congnan was renting a place of his own, items like a first-aid kit simply didn’t exist in his home.
Seeing Gu Shi pull out a first-aid kit and take out what appeared to be safflower oil from it left him momentarily dazed.
“Did you get hurt outside?” Xuan Congnan asked.
Having returned drenched in the rain, failing to change out of wet clothes promptly and take a hot shower makes it easy to catch a cold, so Gu Shi had already gone to his bedroom to shower. While he was showering, Xuan Congnan had sat on the sofa in his bedroom.
With the sound of rain still falling outside, Gu Shi was unwilling to return to his bedroom alone, leaving Xuan Congnan with no choice but to follow him in.
“I got hurt,” said Gu Shi, who was dressed in navy blue long-sleeved, long-legged loungewear.
“Hm?” Xuan Congnan lowered his head to check himself over. “I’m not… Oh, the wrist isn’t a wound, it’s fine.”
Gu Shi reached out a hand. “Let me rub some on.”
The safflower oil was opened, releasing its distinctive scent.
Xuan Congnan rolled up his long sleeve to reveal his slender wrist, marked with two bruised, purplish fingerprints. “Thank you.”
With someone else in the house, Xuan Congnan stayed right beside him, and Gu Shi’s complexion lost the pallor it had when he first returned.
Were it not for the fear of heavy rain and thunder, summer rain would be the kind of sound that induces drowsiness; Xuan Congnan’s eyelids had long since started feeling heavy. He loved sleeping during times like this, feeling as though he were safely and snugly wrapped up.
The rain continued without stopping, and since Gu Shi was unwilling to return to his bedroom alone, Xuan Congnan stayed in the living room to keep him company.
Gu Shi placed his warmed palm over Xuan Congnan’s wrist, lowering his voice. “The matter you had to deal with, did you go to meet your ex-boyfriend?”
Reclining sideways against the sofa, Xuan Congnan fought to keep his eyelids open, lacking any real vigilance. “Not really. He tracked down Xuan Zhuoyao, my cousin, you probably remember him, he came looking for me at that place last time. He had Xuan Zhuoyao come to me and gave him one hundred thousand yuan.”
His relationship with the Xuan family was poor, but he didn’t make a habit of dodging them. Yet what Shen Qian wanted was precisely for Xuan Congnan to “stop hiding.”
The thunder had stopped, but the sound of rain continued to patter outside the window. Gu Shi kept his eyelids half-drooped as he carefully massaged Xuan Congnan’s wrist. Tonight, because of Gu Shi’s dread of severe weather, their hands had come into close contact and still remained pressed tightly together, a mere breath apart.
It was as if a rainy night had swiftly bridged the gap in their simple flatmate relationship, and Xuan Congnan felt like talking.
“I recorded our entire conversation at the restaurant,” Xuan Congnan said. “Tomorrow I’m going to report it to the police and tell them they sold and bought my private information illegally without my consent. Do you think the police will take the case?”
“They will,” Gu Shi said. “The amount involved in their transaction is significant.”
“That’s good, then,” Xuan Congnan said.
“I’ll go with you to the police station tomorrow,” Gu Shi offered.
“You should just stay at home,” Xuan Congnan shook his head, recalling Officer Li’s words. “Don’t cause a traffic jam.”
Gu Shi looked somewhat vexed. “I didn’t think about being an actor or a celebrity back then.”
“Then how did you end up a top-tier traffic star anyway?” Xuan Congnan asked.
With the wrist massage finished, Gu Shi tightened the cap of the safflower oil and put it back into the first-aid kit, staying silent.
“What are you looking at me for?” Xuan Congnan asked strangely.
Gu Shi lowered his gaze. “Nothing.”
Listening closely, Xuan Congnan remarked, “It doesn’t seem to be thundering anymore. Why don’t you go back to sleep?”
Gu Shi didn’t budge. “What if it starts thundering again in a minute?”
Left with no choice, Xuan Congnan continued to sit there, waiting for the rain to stop.
There was only one long sofa, and the two of them couldn’t very well squeeze onto it to sleep together. With time to spare, Xuan Congnan opened the audio recording on his phone, tapped on the latest file, and began editing.
Xuan Congnan: “He sold me out for a hundred thousand yuan, and you bought me for a hundred thousand yuan. Is that what this is?”
Shen Qian’s voice came through: “You’re always so reluctant to see me, I just wanted to.”
Xuan Congnan: “I’ve told you more than once that my relationship with them isn’t good. Now that you’ve given them money, have you figured out how to clean up the mess later? You’re using money to teach them to treat me like a cash cow.”
“Today Xuan Zhuoyao can go home with a hundred thousand yuan, and tomorrow Zhuoyajun will come asking you for two hundred thousand or five hundred thousand.”
“Let me ask you: to find me, you definitely gave Xuan Zhuoyao a hundred thousand yuan. Do you admit to that?”
“Mm, I gave him one hundred thousand.”
“If there’s a next time, are you going to go find my uncle or aunt? Are you going to give them a million to buy me?”
Xuan Congnan kept only the parts where they discussed money—the parts Shen Qian had admitted to with his own mouth.
The heavy rain gradually died down, and Gu Shi suddenly spoke up. “Did you like him a lot?”
“Hm?” Xuan Congnan raised his eyes, a look of fatigue from staying up late clouding his vision.
Then, processing what Gu Shi had asked, a trace of clarity returned to his eyes.
It had been a little over a month since he broke up with Shen Qian, yet the past year still felt remarkably close to Xuan Congnan.
“He actually has a pretty good personality,” Xuan Congnan said objectively.
“My personality.” Remembering what Zhuoyajun had said a few days ago about his emotional detachment, Xuan Congnan spoke honestly anyway, “I honestly don’t know if I ever liked him all that much. But I did, think about marrying him.”
“Oh,” Gu Shi said.
By half-past one in the morning, the heavy rain had stopped entirely. Lying in bed, however, Xuan Congnan found himself wide awake instead. Clutching his blanket as he stared up at the ceiling, he couldn’t fathom why he had spilled his heart out to Gu Shi like that.
Once the emotional wave passed, it felt thoroughly awkward.
Why on earth would he say those things to an outsider?
Ever since his mom and dad passed away, it had been a very long time since anyone had genuinely listened to him speak.
Pulling the blanket up to his chin, Xuan Congnan wrapped himself tightly inside, closed his eyes, and forced himself to sleep without letting his mind wander.
The umbrella he had forgotten to hang out on the balcony yesterday because he was preoccupied with Gu Shi had been set up by Xuan Congnan to dry today.
Since today was neither rainy nor blazing with harsh sunlight, Xuan Congnan went out with complete peace of mind.
He headed to the police station to file a report and record a statement, detailing everything that had happened yesterday.
Before long, both Shen Qian and Xuan Zhuoyao were summoned to the police station.
Xuan Zhuoyao hadn’t fully woken up yet; upon receiving the call from the police station, he initially thought it was a scam, but seeing the local police prefix on the caller ID, he scrambled out of bed in a panic.
Upon learning the ins and outs of the situation, he blurted out incredulously, “Xuan Congnan, you actually went to the police?”
Xuan Congnan ignored him, though an officer barked sternly, “You guys traded his personal information for a hundred thousand yuan, shouldn’t he go to the police?!”
Xuan Ye had a natural penchant for gambling and was frequently tracked down by creditors because he couldn’t pay his debts, meaning the police had visited before.
Whenever men in uniforms appeared, Xuan Ye would cower like a rat in a gutter, hiding away and leaving Zhuoyajun and Xuan Zhuoyao to handle everything.
Seeing it so often, Xuan Zhuoyao had developed an ingrained terror of the police, as if they were always there to haul his old man away.
Because of Xuan Ye, he and Zhuoyajun could never hold their heads high, no matter how many designer clothes and bags Zhuoyajun rented, it could never conceal that reality.
At the officer’s shout, Xuan Zhuoyao shrank his neck in fright and didn’t dare utter another word.
Shen Qian, by contrast, remained entirely nonchalant from start to finish.
Xuan Congnan had already mentioned meeting at the police station today when he left yesterday, so he had anticipated what this was about.
A pair of eyes seemed glued to Xuan Congnan, but Xuan Congnan refused to even look his way, turning and walking out the moment he finished signing the paperwork required by the police.
The matter wasn’t resolved yet, meaning Shen Qian and Xuan Zhuoyao couldn’t leave just yet. The hundred thousand yuan in Xuan Zhuoyao’s possession would undoubtedly have to be returned down to the last penny, though Xuan Congnan didn’t care about the logistics.
Behind him, Xuan Zhuoyao glared at him with venomous eyes as he walked out of the police station and vanished around the corner.
Sure enough, that evening, Xuan Congnan received a call from Zhuoyajun.
Clearly, she had learned of the entire ordeal and shrieked like a madwoman over the phone: “A hundred thousand yuan! That’s a hundred thousand yuan! Have you lost your mind to pick a fight with money of all things?! Besides, Yaoyao got that money fair and square through his own means, what right do you have to make him give it back?! You actually had the nerve to call the police?! Xuan Congnan, where are you living right now? Just wait till I come over and beat you to death!”
Xuan Congnan was sorting through his paints in the living room art studio, his phone resting on the floor. Hearing this, he replied, “I’m at the police station. Come on over.”
Zhuoyajun’s tone grew slightly calmer. “What are you still doing there?”
The blue paint had run out. Xuan Congnan gazed at the paint box, which was down to its bare bottom, sighed, and said, “I’m telling the police about how you planned to sell me off to President Zhang for a million yuan. Illegal human trafficking is a lot more serious than whatever Xuan Zhuoyao did.”
“You!” Zhuoyajun’s voice turned icy. “Do you even know who you’re messing with? Do you really think the police can save you from everything? If President Zhang decides to play hardball with you, there won’t be a place left for you in this city!”
With that, as if struck by a thought, she scoffed mockingly. “If you were going to call the police, you would have done it long ago, why wait until now? Stop putting on a grown-up act to threaten me; your mother’s paintings are still in my hands. Back then, just to keep her final piece of work, your uncle and I spent 12 million to buy it. You should be down on your knees thanking me.”
Xuan Congnan said apathetically, “If it weren’t for my mother’s paintings, your whole family would be dead by now.”
“Congnan.” The door to the art studio was tapped from outside by Gu Shi.
Xuan Congnan pulled his gaze away from the mostly empty paint box and answered, “Yeah.”
“Come out and eat. You can paint tomorrow,” Gu Shi said.
When it came to kitchen work, aside from boiling store-bought noodles and dropping an egg in, Xuan Congnan couldn’t cook a thing. Whenever Gu Shi cooked, Xuan Congnan was completely useless as a helper; once the vegetables were washed, there was nothing left for him to do.
He could only retreat to the art studio to tinker with his own things.
The two high-end brand pure white T-shirts he had ordered a few days earlier had arrived, and Xuan Congnan had intended to paint, only to find he couldn’t even bring himself to hold a brush for the longest time. He opened the studio door and walked out. “What’s for dinner today? It smells amazing.”
“I stewed some old hen soup,” Gu Shi said. “You’re a bit too thin, you need to build yourself up.”
Xuan Congnan looked down at himself, then touched his face.
There was plenty of meat on his face, so he countered, “I’m fine.”
“How tall are you?” Gu Shi asked.
“One meter eighty.”
“How much do you weigh?”
Xuan Congnan had always kept a close eye on his weight—not to lose weight, but to gain it—and kept a scale at home. “Fifty-six kilograms.”
“Too skinny,” Gu Shi said. “You need to eat more and put on some weight.”
Xuan Congnan said sincerely, “Two kilos of that meat were actually built on your cooking.”
Before meeting Gu Shi, Xuan Congnan had hovered at fifty-four kilograms. He had been stuck at that number for half a year, unable to budge.
“I’m honored,” Gu Shi said.
Xuan Congnan smiled faintly. “Thank you, Gu Shi.”
A brimming bowl of old hen soup was placed before Xuan Congnan. “Mm,” Gu Shi acknowledged.
He had run out of paint and needed to buy new ones. Xuan Congnan kept this on his mind; he didn’t want to buy online since seeing things in person at a physical store gave him peace of mind.
With classes all day tomorrow and final exams to study for, he figured he would make a trip to a brick-and-mortar art supply shop when he had free time.
The next evening, coming home from the library, Xuan Congnan noticed the lights in the art studio were on.
Gu Shi happened to be stepping out of the room, explaining, “I bought some things. Keeping them in the living room wasn’t ideal, so I put them in here for you first.”
“What did you buy?” Xuan Congnan walked over to look, a vague premonition stirring in his chest.
McHardy Chinese cinnabar pigment, natural ultramarine pigment, Windsor & Newton paints… Box after box was stacked neatly in the corner, each package looking heavy enough to hold fifty or sixty pounds. Next to them, various other painting tools and supplies were packed into separate boxes. Xuan Congnan figured that even if he painted every single day, these supplies would easily last him two years.
Whenever Xuan Congnan bought paints, he never bought branded ones because they were simply too expensive. For him, as long as they worked smoothly in his hands, that was enough.
These boxes of paint.
Gu Shi said, “I don’t know anything about painting, so I just bought whatever other people recommended. This should be enough, right?”
“More than enough.” Still in a state of shock, Xuan Congnan pointed at the incredible pile filling the floor and asked, “Why did you buy so much? If it sits too long, it might go bad.”
“You can afford to be a bit wasteful with it,” Gu Shi said.
What art lover wouldn’t feel their heart race at the sight of all this? Xuan Congnan felt his fingers itch; he wanted to drop dinner entirely and immediately test out the new paints and tools.
Exercising restraint, he said, “Thank you.”
Gu Shi stared fixedly at him. “You like them.”
“Mm,” Xuan Congnan said.
Breaking into a smile without pretending to refuse or saying he didn’t want them, he said, “Thank you, Gu Shi.”
His smile was so dazzling it seemed to catch Gu Shi off guard; lowering his eyelashes to avoid looking directly at him, Gu Shi replied, “Mm.”
Ever since meeting Gu Shi, Xuan Congnan felt he had grown extraordinarily lucky. He lived his days relatively happily, feeling that having a flatmate like Gu Shi was truly top-tier.
Thinking of all the things Gu Shi had done for him, Xuan Congnan, who always hated taking things without returning a favor, suddenly felt a pang of embarrassment. He had never done a single thing for Gu Shi.
“Is, is there anything you need help with?” Xuan Congnan asked, using his serving chopsticks to place a piece of food into Gu Shi’s bowl.
Caught completely off guard, Gu Shi hurried to extend his bowl to catch it. “Hm?”
“I can do something for you, too,” Xuan Congnan said. Then, feeling that wasn’t rigorous enough, he added, “As long as it’s not illegal and within my ability, I can help you with whatever you need.”
“There is,” Gu Shi said. He put down his chopsticks, sat up straight, and answered without a moment’s hesitation.
Xuan Congnan put down his chopsticks as well, adopting a serious attitude. “What is it?”
“Marry me,” Gu Shi replied without missing a beat.