Shoutout to Kari for the commission!
Although they were complementary, two people whose personalities were completely opposite were bound to argue sometimes.
Le Cheng sometimes argued with Zhou Shirui too, but most of the time, it was merely bickering.
Because whenever he got angry over something trivial, Zhou Shirui would always correct himself immediately.
And most of the time, or at least in Zhou Shirui’s eyes, Le Cheng was the one who was constantly making mistakes, although Le Cheng himself would refuse to admit it ninety percent of the time.
“Why didn’t you eat lunch?” Zhou Shirui lowered his eyes and quietly stared at him.
Even though they were already extremely close, the sense of pressure Zhou Shirui gave off when he put on a stern face still made Le Cheng nervous. He tried to cover up his guilty conscience with volume. “I forgot. You know, when I start drawing, I completely lose track of time… And I obviously set an alarm. It’s just, it just didn’t go off…”
His voice grew quieter and quieter during the last two sentences, almost like a mosquito. Sure enough, Zhou Shirui reached out, looking just like a strict, dutiful school discipline director, and said coldly, “Phone.”
He was going to check whether Le Cheng had actually set an alarm.
Le Cheng felt uneasy. He slowly went to get it, then handed over his phone with extreme trepidation, frantically trying to remember whether he had actually set one today.
He remembered that he had, but sometimes, when you used an excuse too many times, your memories could start getting mixed up…
Zhou Shirui held his phone. At that moment, Le Cheng unleashed an astonishing amount of strength. Zhou Shirui was caught off guard and, on his first attempt, actually failed to pull it out of his hand.
Le Cheng did not look up, secretly pretending he was not using any strength.
It took another tug before Zhou Shirui finally got the phone. He lowered his eyes and glanced at the screen. The wallpaper was a photo of the two of them together. He then raised his eyes to look at Le Cheng, who was staring down at the floor, kicking his toes back and forth like an elementary school student, scratching here and fiddling with that there to conceal his guilty conscience.
Zhou Shirui carefully looked through the phone and saw a 13:18. Only then did his brows relax slightly.
Le Cheng had a very small habit. Every time he set an alarm, he would set it again from scratch, changing only the hour while keeping the minutes the same as when he originally set the alarm.
For example, this 13:18 meant that Le Cheng had set it at 10:18.
Le Cheng pretended to be busy, but he was actually sneaking glances at him. When he saw Zhou Shirui’s expression gradually soften, he instantly perked up and completely changed from his guilty look just moments ago. “I told you I set it! You just didn’t believe me!”
He looked as though he had every right to be indignant.
Zhou Shirui returned the phone to him without saying a word. His dark eyes quietly lowered. Under that gaze, Le Cheng slowly deflated like an angry pufferfish. He blinked a few times, took his phone, then came over and touched Zhou Shirui’s fingers. When Zhou Shirui still did not react, he gave his forearm a little squeeze, and finally tilted his head up and nibbled at Zhou Shirui’s lips.
At this point, Le Little Cheng’s apology plan came to a perfect conclusion, because whenever things reached this stage, Zhou Shirui would reach out and hold the back of his neck, asking him: “…Will you do this again next time?”
Le Cheng was not particularly enthusiastic about admitting his mistake. After hesitating for a while, he answered, “I won’t do it again…”
His voice even trailed off at the end.
Zhou Shirui did not care whether he was willing or not and said seriously, “Remember to eat next time. Eating irregularly all the time is especially bad for your stomach.”
After a pause, Zhou Shirui added, as though being very fair, “Of course, this isn’t entirely your fault. The alarm was too quiet, so it’s normal that you didn’t hear it.”
Only then did Le Cheng’s perpetually drooping face lift again. After a while, he said, “Maybe I set the volume too low.”
Zhou Shirui curled his lips slightly and slowly went along with him. “…Mm. Turn it up next time.”
Sometimes Zhou Shirui would be so busy that he had no time to come home, and Le Cheng would take the opportunity to let himself go like this.
Le Cheng nodded when he heard that. Their moods always passed quickly after bickering over little things. Before long, Zhou Shirui went into the kitchen to cook, and Le Cheng followed him to help.
Neither of them seemed capable of holding a grudge over such small things.
And since this little problem had a solution, the next day, Le Cheng discovered that Zhou Shirui had hired another woman to cook. Whenever Zhou Shirui was not at home, he would call her to come over and make food, solving the problem of Le Cheng forgetting to eat at its root.
Since Zhou Shirui no longer needed to return to school, he would occasionally go on business trips as well.
But even when they were apart, the two of them would video call and talk on the phone. Zhou Shirui would also be even more serious about requiring Le Cheng to report what he was doing, as though he wished he could reach through the screen and keep an eye on him himself.
The longer they were together, the more things Zhou Shirui began to manage. It was not because he lacked a sense of security. Rather, Le Cheng gave him so much reassurance that Zhou Shirui could not help wanting a little more, and then a little more.
“You need to drink more water.” On the other side of the screen, Zhou Shirui was wearing a pair of silver-rimmed glasses.
His gaze came through the screen, and Le Cheng met his eyes and nodded. “I know.”
“When are you coming back?” Le Cheng asked, lying on the bed.
“Tomorrow,” Zhou Shirui said.
“Okay.” Le Cheng nodded. “Then I’ll go to the airport to pick you up tomorrow.”
“It’s too cold,” Zhou Shirui said. “Don’t come.”
Le Cheng secretly rolled his eyes. He was not made of fragile glass, but Zhou Shirui was always like this, trying to help him avoid every possible risk of getting hurt in daily life.
“Oh…” Le Cheng drawled. “Then I’ll wait for you at home… and make you some pork rib soup!”
After living together for so long, Le Cheng’s cooking skills were still nothing to brag about, but his soup-making skills had improved by leaps and bounds. Whenever he brought up a soup he liked to make, he could go on and on. “I’ll make the savory kind you like. Didn’t you say last time that you really liked it?”
“And I can make tremella milk pudding now, too. It turns out really well, soft and glutinous, and the consistency is just right.”
“When you come back, I’ll show you. I think I have a real talent for making soup…”
Zhou Shirui gazed at Le Cheng’s sparkling eyes on the screen, his mouth opening and closing as he talked. He was obviously very noisy, yet an incomparably gentle and peaceful feeling arose in Zhou Shirui’s heart.
But the next day, after Le Cheng finished making the soup, Zhou Shirui did not come back.
Le Cheng tried to video call him, but the call was switched to voice.
Zhou Shirui said, “Something suddenly came up. I might have to stay a few more days.”
Le Cheng understood, but he still could not help frowning. “Then how many days?”
Zhou Shirui calmly said, “Two or three days.”
“Okay.” Le Cheng could not really say anything more. Whenever Zhou Shirui was tired from work, he cared about him more than anyone.
But after two or three days, Zhou Shirui still had not returned. Instead, because Le Cheng had been careless about keeping warm, he opened the window and stood there letting the cold air blow over him for a while after showering, and ended up catching a cold.
His voice was nasal, and his throat hurt. To keep Zhou Shirui from noticing, Le Cheng did not dare call him and could only message him instead.
By the time Zhou Shirui actually returned, a week had already passed.
Le Cheng’s cold had not completely cleared up yet. His throat still hurt a little and his voice was slightly hoarse, though his energy had improved considerably.
He had failed to take good care of himself while home alone. If Zhou Shirui found out, he would inevitably get a lecture. So, two hours before Zhou Shirui came home, Le Cheng deliberately practiced speaking in a higher, lighter voice.
It failed.
Trying to force his voice higher sounded worse than not doing it at all.
When he heard the door open, Le Cheng hurried over to greet him. When Zhou Shirui took off his coat, Le Cheng took it from him.
He did not say a word the entire time, unusually quiet. Zhou Shirui watched him without revealing anything. Suddenly, he reached out and pinched Le Cheng’s cheeks between two fingers, squeezing his mouth into a round shape.
“Mm…?!” Le Cheng asked, “What are you doing?”
Zhou Shirui lowered his lashes. “Why aren’t you talking?”
“What am I supposed to say…” Le Cheng was a little guilty. He coughed twice and cleared his throat before saying, “Are you hungry? The auntie made dinner, and I made soup too.”
His attempt to change the subject was rather clumsy, but Zhou Shirui only stared at him for two seconds without saying anything. The auntie was still in the kitchen cooking the last dish. Le Cheng pushed Zhou Shirui toward the sink to wash his hands.
When the last dish was served, Le Cheng ate with great enthusiasm. The auntie wiped her hands and, before leaving, said, “Little Cheng, I put the medicine from the dining table away in the medicine cabinet. Don’t forget about it later.”
Zhou Shirui immediately asked, “What medicine?”
Le Cheng’s eyes widened. Before he could stop her, the auntie said, “I think it’s cold medicine. Little Cheng has had a cold for several days now. He even went to get an injection a few days ago.”
The auntie closed the door and left. Le Cheng nervously poked at his rice. The dining table was very quiet.
Zhou Shirui ate as usual. For a while, the only sound was the ticking of the clock, like the calm before a storm.
After dinner, Zhou Shirui put the bowls into the dishwasher. Le Cheng sat on the sofa watching television. When he heard footsteps, he unconsciously changed the channel.
“Is your cold better now?” Zhou Shirui suddenly asked.
“Huh?” Le Cheng hesitated for a moment before saying, “Yeah, it’s better.”
“Is it?” Zhou Shirui asked.
After a pause, without waiting for Le Cheng to answer, he asked, “How did you catch a cold?”
“…I just suddenly caught one,” Le Cheng said. “Maybe I got chilled while I was drying my hair.”
Zhou Shirui looked at him, his dark eyes heavy, as though storm clouds were gathering within them. Le Cheng did not dare say anything, but suddenly noticed something strange about Zhou Shirui’s shirt.
“What’s this?” He took two steps forward and tugged Zhou Shirui’s sleeve upward. There, wrapped around his sturdy forearm, was a bandage.
“What is this?” Le Cheng asked anxiously. “You’re hurt? When did this happen?”
Zhou Shirui pulled his sleeve back down, not letting him see, his tone sounding as though he were perfectly calm. “…It’s nothing. I just accidentally got scratched.”
“Then why are you using a bandage?” Le Cheng frowned. “Are you trying to fool me?”
Zhou Shirui paused. “…No. It’s already healed now.”
“Then is the reason you came back so late because you were injured?” Le Cheng was not that stupid. After thinking about it, he said, “You’re back now because you’re better, right?”
Remembering how Zhou Shirui had suddenly stopped letting him video call and unexpectedly postponed his return, Le Cheng became more and more convinced that his guess was right. He could not help asking, “Why aren’t you saying anything?”
The same question came back to him. Zhou Shirui pressed his lips together and explained things as simply as possible. “…I accidentally cut myself while eating out. I got three stitches at the hospital. I’m fine now. Something really did suddenly come up at the time.”
“Three stitches?” Le Cheng suddenly felt like he could not breathe properly. “Does it still hurt? When are you getting the stitches removed? If it wasn’t intentional, then why didn’t you tell me?”
A string of questions came pouring out. Zhou Shirui opened his mouth, but for once, he did not know how to answer.
Le Cheng stared at him for several seconds, then suddenly turned around and walked away.
Zhou Shirui reacted quickly and grabbed his wrist. “It doesn’t hurt anymore. I…” But halfway through his sentence, his gaze landed on Le Cheng’s reddened eyes.
“Did you think that if you didn’t tell me, I wouldn’t have to worry?” Le Cheng looked straight at him. “Then how did you feel when I didn’t tell you things? Did you worry even one bit less? You require me to report everything to you, not leave out a single thing. What about you? Do you report everything to me like that?”
“I’m sorry, Chengcheng.” Zhou Shirui frowned as he said it.
Le Cheng said nothing and tried to pull his hand away.
Zhou Shirui held onto him and refused to let go. Le Cheng could not overpower him, and his chest felt as though it were burning. He rarely felt this way, but now he snapped angrily, “Let go!”
Zhou Shirui loosened his grip slightly. “This time, I was wrong. Chengcheng, I’m sorry. I…”
“Were you wrong?” Le Cheng said. “Then do you know what you did wrong? Why did you choose to hide something this serious from me? This isn’t the first time you’ve done this. Why do you think only you have the right to worry about me, but I don’t have the right to worry about you?”
Zhou Shirui said, “No. I never thought that.”
“Yes, you did.” Le Cheng looked at him. “You did, because you think that even if you tell me, there’s nothing I can do to help you. I’ll only hold you back and do things you think are unnecessary. You don’t trust me at all, so you choose to hide things from me. You keep doing this, over and over.”
“You’re making it so that I don’t even have the right to care about you.”
Zhou Shirui’s heart felt as though it had been completely yanked upward, hanging high in midair and making it difficult for him to breathe.
He wanted to say that was not it. He had never thought that way. Le Cheng was emotional and intelligent, and Zhou Shirui admired and recognized those qualities in him. He would never think that way about him.
“Zhou Shirui.” Le Cheng finally said, “You’re holding us to completely different standards.”
His eyes were very red, as though he were about to cry. Hearing those words, Zhou Shirui’s heart seemed ready to leap out of his chest. The moment Le Cheng turned around, he could not stop himself from stepping forward and pulling him into his arms.
“What are you doing?” Le Cheng struggled. “Let go.”
“No.” Zhou Shirui shook his head. “It’s not like that. I’ve never thought that way.”
“You didn’t?” Le Cheng lowered his eyelashes. “But you already did it.”
He could no longer remember how many times Zhou Shirui had hidden things from him like this.
Zhou Shirui held him tightly, his voice unusually strained. “Yes. I hold us to different standards. I treat you and myself differently. I’m sorry. Is that okay?”
Le Cheng did not speak.
Zhou Shirui continued, “But I never thought that way.” After a pause, as though the words were difficult for him to say, his voice lowered. “I never thought that way. I was wrong. I don’t want to see you upset. I don’t want to see you sad, even if it’s because of me. I was just afraid… I just didn’t want you to see me like this. My need for control is too strong, my possessiveness is too strong. I want you to have the best. I want to give you the best, even if the person giving it to you is… me.”
Le Cheng seemed not to have heard him clearly. “What?”
Zhou Shirui spoke quickly and not quite clearly enough, but Le Cheng was still smart enough to understand.
Rather than saying that his need for control and possessiveness were too strong, it was more that he cared too much, wanted too much, wanted to give Le Cheng the very best. Even if what he was giving him was himself, he still did not want to expose his vulnerable, less-than-strong side in front of the person he loved.
Tears still fell, landing on the back of Zhou Shirui’s hand. Le Cheng did not know how to describe the feeling. He had already tried so hard. He had tried so hard to love Zhou Shirui. They were both getting better, yet somehow he still had not done it right, and Zhou Shirui still thought this way.
In the end, he hugged Zhou Shirui tightly in return and said softly, “But… I can protect you too. I can let you be the little one who gets taken care of. I can do it. You can trust me.”
But Le Cheng had already done it. Zhou Shirui’s chest seemed to burn. “I know. I’ve always known.”
It was simply a habit, an ingrained instinct that made him continue doing things the way he had always done them.
Le Cheng hugged him while Zhou Shirui reached out and gently wiped away his tears. Finally, Le Cheng pulled him down to sit.
“Does it really not hurt anymore?” Le Cheng looked at him with watery eyes. “You have to tell me the truth this time.”
“A little.” Zhou Shirui said. “It still hurts a little.”
Le Cheng gently blew on the bandage, then lifted his hand and softly kissed it, like a little child.
An indescribable feeling seemed to travel from the scabbed-over wound all the way to Zhou Shirui’s heart, making his eyelashes tremble, as though something were tightening around his heart and filling it completely.
“A kiss makes it stop hurting.” Le Cheng said this, then lowered his head and quietly added, “…Actually, I lied just now too. My throat hurts a little as well.”
Zhou Shirui froze for several seconds, then gently leaned closer and softly pressed his lips against Le Cheng’s. The kiss was tender and careful, full of cherishing. He pulled away slightly, as though imitating Le Cheng’s words, and said quietly, “Then a kiss makes it stop hurting.”
Only then did Le Cheng smile until his eyes curved. He deliberately said, “Why are you copying the way I talk?”
“Am I not allowed to?” Zhou Shirui pecked his lips again. “There are still so many things I have to learn from you.”
Le Cheng hummed twice. “Good that you know. I’m not stupid at all.”
“Mm, very smart.” Zhou Shirui played along. “Much smarter than me.”
Le Cheng practically had his tail sticking straight up. Then, as though he had remembered something, he suddenly jumped up and shouted, “I still have tremella milk pudding simmering!”
With that, he pattered away.
Before going to bed that night, Le Cheng opened the bandage again under the doctor’s instructions to take a look. The wound had already scabbed over, but the new flesh was bright red. He could not help sniffing, then disinfected it and put on a new bandage.
Lying together on the bed, Le Cheng carefully switched places with Zhou Shirui, moving to the better side so that he would not press against it. Only then did he wrap his arms around Zhou Shirui’s waist and say, “Go to sleep.”
Zhou Shirui gently patted his back, coaxing him, “Mm, go to sleep.”
The night was so peaceful. Moonlight illuminated the side of Le Cheng’s face, making it look soft and fair. His breathing was even, as though he were already asleep.
“Actually, you’re already very good.” Le Cheng suddenly spoke, without opening his eyes. “You’re already really, really good.”
Zhou Shirui paused, his heart seeming to be swept up in layers of waves. “Really?”
“Yes.” Le Cheng said firmly, “In my heart, you’re the best. No matter what it is, I like you. But can you stop being so hypocritical? Will you change?”
“I will.” Zhou Shirui held him even tighter. “I definitely will change.”
“That’s good.” Le Cheng’s lips curved slightly. He opened his eyes and leaned over to give him a kiss. “I believe you.”
Zhou Shirui nodded, and Le Cheng closed his eyes again, burrowing his head into his arms to find a comfortable position before falling asleep.
Zhou Shirui reached out and tucked the blanket around him again before finally relaxing.
Perhaps outsiders always thought that he was the rational and calm one in the relationship, but Zhou Shirui understood clearly that this was only because Le Cheng’s love was too good, too wholehearted, and too abundant.
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