For a moment, Song Nanxing almost thought he hadn’t woken up from his dream.
Song Cheng hadn’t come home early, and his mother was walking over with a plate of freshly baked egg cakes, smiling gently as she asked if he wanted some.
Song Nanxing’s emotions wavered in a daze, and it took him a long while to come back to himself.
This time, he didn’t bother with polite refusals to Shen Du. He reached out and took the white porcelain plate, nostalgia coloring his mood:
“Thank you. Ever since my mom disappeared, I haven’t tasted such fragrant cake again.”
The cakes from bakeries were more delicate and beautiful than the old-fashioned egg cakes in his memory, but for some reason, Song Nanxing always felt they lacked the sweet aroma that used to fill the whole house. He’d bought some for himself twice, but after that, he didn’t really like cake anymore.
Seeing that he liked it, Shen Du said, “I baked a lot, but didn’t bring too much in case you didn’t like them. If it’s not enough, don’t be polite with me.”
The distance in Song Nanxing’s eyes faded a lot, and he smiled in agreement.
After chatting for a few minutes at the door, Shen Du left.
Song Nanxing closed the door and, unable to wait until he reached the living room, popped a small cake into his mouth. The cake was only the size of an egg, and its texture was just as soft and fluffy as it looked, with a sweet aroma spreading through his mouth.
The familiar sweetness chased away the last traces of unpleasantness from his dream, and Song Nanxing squinted his eyes, feeling content.
He kicked off his slippers and walked barefoot to the sofa, ready to slowly savor the delicious little cakes.
Just then, a round head slowly peeked out from the armrest of the sofa—Puppet was gripping the armrest with both hands, half of its body sticking out, its pitch-black eyes staring at him.
Only now did Song Nanxing notice that his backpack on the coffee table was open, and Puppet had somehow managed to sneak out.
Seeing it staring at him, Song Nanxing thought it was interested in the cakes. He held the plate out toward it, offering, “Do you want one?”
Puppet suddenly shook its head. Song Nanxing thought it was refusing, but then saw a blue tentacle tip poke out from the dark hole of Puppet’s eye.
Song Nanxing: ……?
He leaned over to look under the armrest and saw Little Octopus trapped under Puppet, and Puppet wasn’t much better off—Little Octopus’s eight tentacles were tightly wrapped around its legs and body. No wonder Puppet was clinging so hard to the armrest; if it didn’t, it would be dragged down by Little Octopus and wouldn’t be able to show its head at all.
Song Nanxing was silent for a moment, then acted as peacemaker: “Since you’re all under the same roof now, get along, no fighting.”
He picked up another little cake and ate it, and then asked Little Octopus as well, “Do you want some cake?”
Little Octopus’s arms wavered uncertainly. After a moment, it let go, quickly crawling up onto the sofa armrest. Its amber eyes stared fixedly at Song Nanxing. Puppet, freed from its bindings, also climbed up, gripping the armrest, half its body leaning forward, its black eyes equally focused on Song Nanxing.
It seemed neither of them wanted to eat the cake.
Since they didn’t, Song Nanxing was happy to eat a few more himself. He ignored them and polished off the entire plate of little cakes.
Next door in Room 402, Shen Du stood in the empty apartment, golden light swirling in his eyes.
He seemed to be witnessing something amusing, the corners of his mouth lifting as he murmured, “He’s really adorable.”
The tentacles filling the room twisted and writhed, all agreeing with him: “So adorable.”
“So adorable.”
“So adorable.”
*****
After that pleasant dream, Song Nanxing completely relaxed, taking a week off to rest at home.
Every day, aside from checking in with his work group, he mostly looked forward to what delicious food would come from next door.
Shen Du’s cooking was truly amazing. Not only could he make soft and fluffy little cakes, but he also baked all kinds of cookies. After being spoiled with treats a few times, Song Nanxing found it impossible to resist the temptation and finally gave in.
He thought about what he could give Shen Du in return, and maybe he could use the chance to suggest splitting the grocery bill and dishwashing, while Shen Du handled the cooking. They could officially become meal buddies.
Just thinking about being meal buddies with Shen Du made Song Nanxing secretly happy.
He rummaged through his house, searching for a suitable gift for Shen Du, but found nothing but instant noodles and self-heating hotpot in his cupboards and fridge. He used to buy some groceries, cooking for himself when he got tired of instant noodles.
But ever since tasting Shen Du’s cooking, Song Nanxing had lost all appetite for his own food.
“Looks like I’ll have to make a trip to the supermarket.”
Song Nanxing glanced outside. The weather was good—no rain, the sky not as gloomy as usual, the edges of the pale gray clouds tinged with white, a faint halo of sunlight peeking through. Not a bad day at all.
He decided to go shopping.
The big supermarket was seven or eight kilometers from Happiness Garden, so Song Nanxing rented a car from the property office before heading out.
Maybe because of the nice weather, there were quite a few people at the supermarket.
Song Nanxing parked, pushed a shopping cart into the store, and felt a bit dizzy at the sight of so many people. He hadn’t seen such a crowd since the rainy season started and everyone stayed home.
He picked out snacks and fruit first, then headed to the fresh food section.
There were even more people there. Song Nanxing, puzzled by the long line, joined the end and asked the young woman in front of him, “What’s on sale here? Why is there such a crowd?”
The young woman replied, “They’re selling fresh crayfish. I heard they’re big and sweet, just came in, and there aren’t many, so they’re really popular. Not sure if there’ll be any left by the time we get there.”
Song Nanxing, tall as he was, stood on tiptoe and looked over the sea of heads. He saw the seafood staff scooping up crayfish with nets.
The crayfish were bright orange-red and lively, their claws waving.
This season, crayfish were indeed rare. With everyone cooped up at home during the rainy season, it was a treat to get something fresh—no wonder so many people lined up.
Song Nanxing thought about it and decided to buy some too. He wondered if Shen Du knew how to cook crayfish.
After waiting in line for half an hour, Song Nanxing finally bought a bag of fresh crayfish and headed home.
It was still noon when he got back. Song Nanxing put away the groceries, then carried the crayfish and fruit to knock on Room 402’s door.
Shen Du opened the door quickly, dressed in loungewear, looking like he’d just woken up. The curtains were drawn and not even the lights were on, the room behind him pitch black.
Song Nanxing realized he might be intruding. “Were you napping? Did I wake you?”
Shen Du yawned, his deep, gentle voice tinged with sleepiness, sounding especially attractive: “No, I just woke up. What’s up?”
Song Nanxing shook the things in his hands. “I’ve been freeloading off you these days, so I went to the supermarket and bought some crayfish and fruit as a thank you.”
Shen Du took them with a smile, not bothering with formalities. “Then I’ll gladly accept.”
Song Nanxing smiled and mumbled an “Mm,” dragging his feet, not wanting to leave. He pressed his lips together, his eyes wandering, trying to figure out how to bring up the meal buddy idea without sounding awkward.
Shen Du stood across from him, looking down as if he knew Song Nanxing had something to say, patiently waiting.
Song Nanxing quietly took a breath and stammered, “I’ve been freeloading off your meals… How about we split the grocery bill?”
Shen Du looked disapproving. “I just said, you don’t need to be so polite.”
“Once or twice is fine, but if it keeps happening, I’ll feel bad always eating your food.” Song Nanxing summoned his courage and looked at him, blurting out, “Didn’t you say you can never finish all the food when you cook for one? Maybe you need a meal buddy?”
He looked up, his eyes bright with hope, clearly eager for a positive answer. “I’ll buy the groceries and wash the dishes, you do the cooking.”
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Get a man’s heart through his stomach~