Rainy days are perfect for hot pot.
Outside, a torrential downpour drenched everything, while inside, the hot pot bubbled on the induction cooker, the spicy aroma wafting up with the swirling steam, aggressively filling the entire living room.
Song Nanxing sniffed hard: “It smells amazing.”
He eagerly went to the kitchen to help Shen Du bring out the dishes.
Shen Du wore an apron, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing sinewy arms that radiated strength. Song Nanxing reached out to take the slices of meat he had cut. Their fingers briefly brushed, the warmth of another person transferring over. Song Nanxing’s heart skipped a beat.
His ears inexplicably felt hot. As he carried the meat out, he shot a glare at Cheng Jianning, blaming him for his restless thoughts with his reckless talk.
Cheng Jianning was oblivious, his nerves coarse. He was also tempted by the hot pot’s aroma and had wanted to help in the kitchen, but the little octopus hiding under the table suddenly shot out a tentacle and gave him a sharp pinch for no apparent reason.
Under the tiny octopus’s tyranny, Cheng Jianning had no choice but to stay put, afraid to move.
Fortunately, Song Nanxing returned with the meat slices. Seeing him as a savior, Cheng Jianning stood up quietly and whispered, “Your octopus is out again.”
Song Nanxing looked down and saw the little octopus clinging to the table leg. When it noticed Song Nanxing looking, all eight tentacles waved happily.
Before Shen Du came out, Song Nanxing hurriedly grabbed the octopus and threw it back into the fish tank, giving it a stern warning not to escape again.
Shen Du came out carrying the prepared hot pot dipping sauce, beckoning Song Nanxing to start eating.
The square dining table was pushed against the wall. The three of them each took a side—Shen Du and Cheng Jianning sat opposite each other, with Song Nanxing between them.
Although Cheng Jianning felt that Shen Du seemed somewhat unfriendly toward him, he knew better than to bite the hand that fed him. He enthusiastically complimented, “Your cooking is amazing. Just the smell alone is mouthwatering.”
Seeing Shen Du pick up his chopsticks, Cheng Jianning eagerly grabbed a piece of meat, swirled it in the pot, and popped it into his mouth. It was both hot and fresh, delicious enough to bring tears: “What kind of meat is this? Shen Du’s knife skills are incredible, slicing it so thin.”
Several plates of thinly sliced meat were laid out on the table, making it hard to tell the quality at a glance.
But after a quick dip in the broth, the flavor was so fresh it made the tongue want to swallow itself.
Shen Du said, “Beef. I marinated it with some spices.”
Cheng Jianning gasped from the heat and eagerly dipped another slice: “Oh, marinated, no wonder the taste isn’t too obvious, but it’s really good.”
Shen Du ignored him, naturally swirled some meat and placed it on Song Nanxing’s plate: “This is fresh lamb, processed to remove any gamey smell. Try it.”
Song Nanxing’s cheeks puffed slightly, meat still in his mouth, mumbling a thank you.
Shen Du stared at his slightly reddened, swollen lips from the spiciness, continuing to prepare meat for him.
At first, Cheng Jianning was too busy eating to notice. When he got halfway full and went to the fridge for a drink, he noticed Shen Du’s plate was spotless, barely touched, while Song Nanxing’s plate always had just the right amount of cooked meat placed on it.
Hesitating, Cheng Jianning stopped dipping meat, his gaze flicking back and forth between the two.
Song Nanxing hadn’t noticed. Seeing Cheng Jianning staring blankly at him, he asked in surprise, “Are you full already?”
Cheng Jianning snapped out of it and, not daring to look at them, shook his head hard: “No, it’s just too spicy, I’m drinking some water to cool down.”
*****
Shen Du had prepared just the right amount of food. The three of them finished everything cleanly, with no waste at all.
Song Nanxing and Cheng Jianning wanted to clear the dishes, but Shen Du said Cheng Jianning was a guest and shouldn’t have to do it, so he took over.
Then Song Nanxing was inexplicably sent away, and he and Cheng Jianning each took a can of iced cola to sit on the sofa watching TV.
Because of the earlier suspicion, Cheng Jianning kept glancing toward the kitchen.
The tall man in the apron busied himself in the kitchen. Though his scholarly air seemed out of place with the fiery kitchen atmosphere, the image of him standing at the sink, methodically washing dishes, was strangely harmonious.
It was like… it was like…
After thinking for a while, Cheng Jianning suddenly came up with the perfect description—just like a diligent, house-proud wife managing the household chores.
His heart stirred tumultuously, and he glanced at Song Nanxing.
Song Nanxing was slouched on the sofa, relaxed and carefree, looking more like a husband who had eaten at home and now shirked all responsibility.
Cheng Jianning: “…”
Song Nanxing had said they were just meal partners. But now it seemed meal partners was a lie—living together for life was the real deal.
Maybe Song Nanxing used that euphemism because he feared Cheng Jianning wouldn’t accept the truth.
Unable to hide his thoughts any longer, Cheng Jianning cleared his throat and nudged Song Nanxing’s elbow, whispering, “It’s 2024; I respect all orientations.”
He felt that at this point, Song Nanxing should understand him.
Whether gay or straight, everyone was equal in his eyes, so there was no need for Song Nanxing to hide anything.
Song Nanxing: “Huh?”
He didn’t know why Cheng Jianning suddenly brought up this topic and could only awkwardly agree, “Me too?”
Cheng Jianning thought, so that’s how it was!
He grasped Song Nanxing’s hand sincerely and said, “Mr. Shen is a good man. I wish you both happiness.”
Song Nanxing: ??????
His confusion turned to shock, and he instinctively turned to look toward the kitchen at Shen Du.
But Cheng Jianning hadn’t lowered his voice when he said that, and Shen Du just happened to be coming out of the kitchen.
The living room was only a few steps from the kitchen.
Shen Du glanced their way, clearly having heard everything.
Song Nanxing’s ears burned red with embarrassment. Unable to meet Shen Du’s eyes, he turned to glare at Cheng Jianning: “Are you misunderstanding something?”
His tone was a mix of exasperation and flustered anger.
Cheng Jianning reassured repeatedly, “I have no problem with homosexuality, really. You don’t have to feel burdened around us.”
Song Nanxing glared at him, cheeks burning, embarrassed enough to wish he could disappear on the spot. His overheated brain raced to figure out how to shut Cheng Jianning up and make Shen Du pretend he hadn’t heard anything.
But Shen Du clearly had no intention of ignoring it. For the first time, he showed Cheng Jianning a genuinely friendly smile: “Thank you. Though society is more open now, people like you who are this accepting are still rare.”
Song Nanxing: ??????
He turned his head toward Shen Du again and again, his neck nearly creaking stiffly, unable to understand what Shen Du meant by that.
Shen Du smiled at him and went to the dining area to wipe the table clean.
Song Nanxing felt like his brain had turned to mush, his face burning hot. He stared blankly at the TV, daydreaming, and didn’t even snap out of it when Cheng Jianning told him he was leaving.
After calling his name three times, Song Nanxing finally came to: “What’s up?”
Cheng Jianning repeated, “The rain has eased. Zhou Xuan said he’s going to the shelter, so I’m catching a ride with him.”
Song Nanxing mechanically said, “Oh, come back and visit when you’re free.”
Cheng Jianning waved off the offer and, on his way to the dining area, even made a point to say goodbye to Shen Du.
Shen Du was very friendly, seeing him out in place of Song Nanxing: “Come again next time. The meat today was quite heat-inducing; if you feel unwell, take something to clear the heat.”
Cheng Jianning made a mental note and thought to himself on the way down that it must have been his imagination before.
Shen Du was a good person. Why would he target him?
After Cheng Jianning left, only Shen Du and Song Nanxing remained, and realizing this, Song Nanxing began to feel restless.
His eyes fixed intently on the TV, his fingers anxiously tapping the remote.
He kept pondering what Shen Du’s words meant.
It should just be agreement with Cheng Jianning’s view, right? Nothing else?
While his mind was wandering, Shen Du approached him and leaned down to ask, “What are you thinking about, so lost in thought?”
Shen Du was tall; bending down like that, he looked even more imposing, especially with that striking face so close, making Song Nanxing dizzy and uneasy.
He stammered, unable to answer.
But Shen Du was very frank: “Are you bothered by what I said earlier?” Straightening up, he looked at Song Nanxing with gentle eyes, a trace of helplessness and sorrow between his brows: “Sorry, I don’t want to lie about this—I do like men. If you can’t accept it…”
He hesitated and didn’t finish the sentence.
“No…” Song Nanxing snapped out of it, swallowing hard, “It’s not that I can’t accept it, just a little surprised.”
The sorrow between Shen Du’s brows disappeared: “That’s good.”
He seemed to worry no more about it and turned back to the kitchen. A soft, low voice came from there: “You ate quite a bit of meat today; I made some hawthorn juice in case you have digestion issues…”
Song Nanxing sank into the sofa, pressing his cold hand against his burning cheeks.
…
Fortunately, the awkward tension between the two men didn’t last long. After Shen Du finished tidying the kitchen, he went next door.
Song Nanxing finally didn’t have to keep up appearances and collapsed exhausted onto the sofa.
The puppet and the little octopus came over to the side of the sofa to watch him. The little octopus poked Song Nanxing with a cold tentacle, causing tiny bumps to rise on his skin. Annoyed, he pushed it away: “Stop bothering me.”
He flipped over, facing the sofa.
After a while, he sat up and hugged the puppet resting on the armrest like a pillow.
He murmured softly, “Shen Du likes men…”
That man… could it be him?
But he quickly dismissed his own thoughts, feeling he was overthinking. Shen Du only said he liked men, not that he currently had someone he liked.
Thinking of this, Song Nanxing felt restless.
He suddenly sat up and forced himself to stop overthinking, grabbing the remote and flipping channels endlessly.
The same few shows flickered back and forth, and he couldn’t focus.
He switched to the news.
The news was reporting on a newly emerging tree skin disease, warning citizens to protect themselves when going out, advising people to keep away from banyan trees by the roadside and to call the 9999 hotline or 110 if any suspicious trees were found.
Song Nanxing thought about the heavy rain today and the sawed-off tree stumps—wondering what their condition was now. He messaged Li Hao to ask.
The cleanup and guarding work on site was handled by Li Hao’s side.
Li Hao quickly replied: “No changes so far. Each stump has been isolated with police shifts guarding to prevent ordinary people from approaching. No need for your help for now. But the health center received many tree skin disease patients today, so be careful when going out.”
With nothing to do, Song Nanxing sulked and turned off his phone to stare into space.
But when he stopped, his mind began racing again, and his ears felt hot once more.
He slumped off the sofa and decided to visit the sixth floor to see if Jing Rao had finished repairing the cloth rabbit doll.
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