A week remained before school started, and students were returning one after another. Qin Shu and Xie Lanzhi also ended their little seaside honeymoon.
When the plane landed, Qin Shu turned on his phone and, in the group chat [Has Brother Yun Bent Today], announced his kingly return.
[Xie Love Letter: Hu Hansan is back again (hands on hips)]
When he had left, he was still an innocent, naïve boy who knew nothing of the world; now he was a battle-hardened warrior (not really). Qin Shu turned to glance at Xie Lanzhi, who was texting his parents to let them know he’d landed safely. Feeling his gaze, Xie Lanzhi looked up slightly. “Hm?”
Qin Shu’s heart took a critical hit—no matter how many times they grew together, he would still be struck by Xie Lanzhi’s charm at the most casual moments.
Tilting his head, Qin Shu leaned on Xie Lanzhi’s shoulder and said, “Brother, how did you grow up like this? So good-looking.”
Xie Lanzhi laughed. “Why the sudden fangirling?”
“Can’t I?”
“You can—towards me. Not towards anyone else.”
“I haven’t towards anyone else.”
Xie Lanzhi only lowered his head and said two words: “The pool.”
“……” Seriously? He just took two glances at someone else’s abs, and from the way Xie Lanzhi held onto it, he was going to remember it for life. At this rate, when they were in their seventies or eighties, sitting in wheelchairs watching aunties dance square dance, Xie Lanzhi would still bring it up.
Before getting off the plane, they both put on heavy down coats. After half a month at the seaside, they’d both tanned a shade darker. Qin Shu didn’t mind at all—boys could be darker without issue. And Xie Lanzhi, tanned, looked even more mature.
Qin Shu scrolled through the group chat while walking. Xu Ning had sent a cute cat sticker to welcome him back, but the other two… were less welcoming.
[Unbendingly Straight: Oh. And? So? What are you trying to say.]
[Overlord Chu: None of my d*mn business.]
[Xie Love Letter: (look at the guy upstairs.jpg)]
[Xie Love Letter: (funny, that’s exactly what my dog says.jpg)]
[Overlord Chu: (funny my *ss, you are my dog.jpg)]
[Xie Love Letter: 0.0]
One winter break gone, and the kid’s wings had hardened—he could even meme-fight now.
[Unbendingly Straight: I came back yesterday. Spent all day lying in the dorm, bored out of my mind. Overlord Chu, come play ball tomorrow.]
[Xie: We’ll see.]
[Overlord Chu: You guys play, I’ll pass. My back hurts.]
Qin Shu stared at the words “back hurts”, deep in thought, when suddenly his hood was tugged.
Looking up, he met Xie Lanzhi’s eyes. “Watch where you’re walking.”
“Brother, are we going back to school?”
Xie Lanzhi nodded. “I’ll invite you to keep living at my place, you know.”
Qin Shu blinked. He’d been eating, sleeping, and sometimes even bathing with Xie Lanzhi these days. Even before winter break, he’d stayed over at his place a few days. He was so used to it, he hadn’t realized—they weren’t technically living together yet.
“You’re inviting me to move in with you?”
Xie Lanzhi: “What else?”
Qin Shu stroked his chin. “I’ll think about it.”
Xie Lanzhi raised a brow. “Still need to think?”
Qin Shu solemnly: “I’m afraid you’ll get smothered to death by my clinginess.”
“Not likely. I’m cling-resistant.”
Of course Qin Shu wanted to live with him. But they had only just started dating. Wouldn’t moving in so quickly lead to what people online said? From three times a day to once every three days? If that were the case—perfect! His poor waist would finally get a break!
“Okay, okay, let’s live together,” Qin Shu said, eager. “I’ll cook lots of good food for you.”
Xie Lanzhi was satisfied. “It’s easier if I buy food for you instead.”
“Then buy me that spicy chicken hotpot behind the school gate later?”
“Sure.”
But Xie Lanzhi lied. He didn’t take Qin Shu for chicken hotpot.
Father Xie appeared at the arrivals gate and caught them red-handed.
Qin Shu, sitting on a suitcase with Xie Lanzhi pushing him along, nearly toppled over when he saw him. He shot upright, spine ramrod straight, almost bowing a ninety-degree Japanese bow: “U-Uncle, Happy New Year!”
What kind of plot twist was this?! Father Xie showed up, and Xie Lanzhi hadn’t even warned him?! He’d met him once before, and the biggest impression he had was of his overbearing aura—and his ability to kill conversations dead.
Xie Lanzhi was surprised too. “Dad, why are you here?”
Father Xie: “Your mom misses you. She sent me to pick you two up.”
Qin Shu’s eyes went wide—what, pick “you two” up? Why did this feel like meeting the in-laws?
Xie Lanzhi said, “Why didn’t you give me a heads-up?”
Father Xie: “Your mom said, if we told you in advance, you wouldn’t agree.”
Xie Lanzhi was speechless. He turned to Qin Shu: “Want to go?”
Qin Shu wanted to cry. With Father Xie right there asking, could he possibly say “No”?
Father Xie drove them home himself. Along the way, father and son only exchanged a few words, all of them about Mother Xie, and the rest of the time was silence.
Ah, silence! Tonight, silence is the Cambridge River!
Father Xie didn’t drive straight home—he stopped at a milk-tea shop. “Wait in the car.”
Xie Lanzhi: “You buy it for her, she drinks it, tomorrow she’ll be yelling about dieting again.”
Father Xie: “Let her.”
Watching his back, Qin Shu mused, “So buying milk tea for your woman is a family tradition?”
Xie Lanzhi: “Mm. He’s been buying for her well into his forties.”
Xie’s parents lived in the very same neighborhood Qin Shu once roasted as “map-cannon fodder.” Mother Xie welcomed Qin Shu warmly, even trying to take his luggage. No matter how hard he refused, she snatched the suitcase and staggered a couple steps. Xie Lanzhi couldn’t take it—he grabbed it back. “Just leave it by the door. We’ll head back to campus after dinner.”
Mother Xie complained, “What’s with you? You’ve only stayed home a few days this whole winter break. Count your fingers.”
Father Xie said, “Stay one night. Leave tomorrow.”
Qin Shu knew Xie Lanzhi was worrying he’d feel uncomfortable, so he took the initiative: “I heard this neighborhood has the best city night view. Senior, I want to see it.”
Since the junior said so, Xie Lanzhi didn’t insist further. “We’ll see it from my room.”
Mother Xie clasped her hands together, eyes curving into crescents. “That’s wonderful! Lanzhi hasn’t brought a friend to stay over in so long.”
Qin Shu caught the key point—so long = he used to. “Brother, who did you bring home before?”
Xie Lanzhi: “Lu Jingyun.”
Qin Shu: “And he slept in the same room as you?”
Xie Lanzhi flatly: “Do I look insane to you?”
Qin Shu burst out laughing. Mother Xie, confused: “Who’s Lu Jingyun? I thought his name was Lu… something Carp?”
Qin Shu fought with all his willpower to manage his expression—he didn’t want to laugh too hard and scare Mother Xie’s delicate heart.
Xie Lanzhi laughed too. “That story’s complicated.”
Qin Shu picked up the cue. “He’s that type, Auntie, you know, that type.” He gestured wildly, trying to make her picture instant-noodle hair, only confusing her more.
Father Xie cut in: “Time to eat.”
Mother Xie snapped out of it. “Right, right, dinner! To welcome our guest, I cooked personally tonight!”
Father Xie and Xie Lanzhi both stiffened. Qin Shu, not knowing the truth, praised with all his might: “Auntie, amazing! Senior brother, how come you didn’t inherit her cooking skills?”
“…I did.”
While Qin Shu went to wash his hands, Xie Lanzhi asked his mom, “Mom, you really cooked dinner?”
Mother Xie whispered, “I personally… called the hotel to order it.”
Xie Lanzhi sighed in relief.
“But I want to set up the image of a virtuous wife and good mother in front of your junior.” To make it convincing, she’d even messed up the perfect plating, so it looked more “homestyle.” “So you—” she pointed at her son, then her husband—“and you, cooperate, got it?”
Xie Lanzhi: “…”
Father Xie: “Got it.”
At the table, Qin Shu felt like he’d used up a lifetime’s worth of rainbow farts. But Mother Xie’s food was genuinely amazing—especially the squirrel mandarin fish, which blew his mind. Why am I suddenly kneeling and singing “Conquer”?
“This dish really tests knife skills. Auntie, you even sliced the fish so evenly!” Qin Shu gave a thumbs-up. “A model for us all!”
Mother Xie modestly said, “Oh, it’s just an ordinary home dish.”
“Can you teach me? Then I can cook it for Senior.”
Father Xie, sipping soup, paused at the second half of that sentence.
Mother Xie froze for a moment, then forced a smile. “Sure, sure.”
After dinner, Xie Lanzhi supported stuffed-to-bursting Qin Shu back to his room. Qin Shu suddenly burst out laughing.
Xie Lanzhi: “???”
“Look at you—you look like you’re helping a pregnant woman.”
Xie Lanzhi patted his belly lightly. “Then give me one.”
“Ah, can’t.”
Xie Lanzhi casually: “Because I always wear protection?”
“…” He already knew he could never win when Xie Lanzhi started driving, so why did he still keep trying? He hated it!
The room at his parents’ place looked different from his current one—more like a teenager’s room. NBA posters on the walls, a punching bag hanging from the ceiling. The room opened to a balcony, overlooking the best night view of the city.
Qin Shu pointed across the river. “That’s where we walked at Christmas, right?”
“Mm.”
“How long did you live here?”
“All three years of high school.”
“High-school Brother…” Qin Shu narrowed his eyes, picturing Xie Lanzhi underage. “I want to see. Got photos?”
Xie Lanzhi thought, then said, “Yeah.”
Qin Shu’s expectations shot through the roof—surely he was about to see crisp HD uniform shots of a sixteen-year-old god. Instead, Xie Lanzhi pulled his ID card from his wallet and handed it over. “Here.”
Qin Shu’s head filled with little question marks.
“It was taken in high school.”
One glance, and sure enough, the photo was still ridiculously handsome. Hair shorter, skin paler, features softer, no expression, cold aura—definitely a “look but don’t touch” male god.
“Not enough, not enough! Don’t you have other pics, like in uniform? Or selfies?”
“I rarely take selfies.”
“Why? Such a waste.”
“Because other people take too many.”
Xie Lanzhi was indeed often secretly photographed, and he couldn’t be bothered to care. Qin Shu remembered his own phone wallpaper was probably from someone’s candid posted on the school forum. So Xie Lanzhi didn’t like it, huh.
“Oh, then never mind.” Qin Shu cupped his face in both hands, grinning. “I’ll just look at the real thing.”
Xie Lanzhi caught his hands. “If you want a picture, we can take one together.”
“Good idea, we’ve never had one.”
Qin Shu wanted the night view in the background—selfies couldn’t capture it. Xie Lanzhi said, “I’ll get the tripod and camera.”
“No need, just ask your mom to take it.”
Xie Lanzhi chuckled. “Not shy at all, huh.”
“It’s just one photo…” Qin Shu suddenly remembered. “By the way, Brother, do your parents know about us?”
“They don’t.”
“Oh…”
“I mean, I don’t know if they do. Maybe they’ve guessed. I’ve hinted enough—no way they wouldn’t pick up on it.”
Qin Shu instantly grew nervous. “They seem to like me. Shouldn’t hate me, right?”
Xie Lanzhi ruffled his hair. “You’re this funny and cute—nobody could hate you.”
Qin Shu went off to find Mother Xie. She’d changed into a fluffy loungewear set, sitting cross-legged on the sofa chatting with Father Xie.
“I already promised to teach him!”
“Mm, I saw. You agreed real quick.”
“But I can’t cook it!”
“Didn’t think of that when you lied?”
“Was it lying? Image-building is not lying!”
Father Xie paused, then said, “I’ll contact the hotel’s head chef, ask him to give you a few private lessons.”
“Thanks, hubby! Love you, heart gesture!”
Qin Shu: “…” Oh-ho.
Meanwhile, in the [Did Brother Yun Turn Gay Today] groupchat—all five were in the same city. Lu Rulu shouted, “Anyone up for skewers?” Ten minutes later, no replies. Heart aching, he posted again: “My treat.” Still dead silence.
Fuming, he opened the delivery app. While waiting for his order, he scrolled Weibo—only to see a new post from Xie Lanzhi. Simple, no words, just a photo.
In it, Xie Lanzhi’s hand rested casually on Qin Shu’s shoulder, lips tilted in a small smile. Qin Shu beamed brightly, throwing up a tacky scissors-hand. Behind them shone the city’s most dazzling lights.
Lu Rulu: “…” D*mn, got time to flaunt on Weibo, no time to check the group?
Of course he knew the point—posting it publicly meant more people would see, and fewer would harass them later. But he didn’t care—he wanted to rant!
“What, Moments wasn’t enough? Had to flaunt it on Weibo too? What next, announce your marriage certificate? Want us to set up banquet tables at the village gate?”
But after typing it out, his roommate’s cold, expressionless face popped into his mind. He hesitated three seconds, then deleted it all.
Instead he typed: [Unbendingly Straight]: Wow, so perfect and happy! I’m super jealous, when will I get out of singlehood, sob sob sob sob.”
When he came back with his takeout, he saw a reply under his comment—judging by the username, it was his ex.
[It’s Beibei]: Only when the chickens finish the rice, the dogs lick up the flour, and the fire burns through the lock.jpg
Lu Rulu: “…F*ck.”
