He Yu watched Xie Xiaobao’s cheeks puff as he chewed, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips, feeling the quiet pride of feeding a hungry kitten.
Though it was supposed to be Xie Xiaobao accompanying He Yu for lunch, most of the shrimp ended up in Xie Xiaobao’s stomach, with He Yu eating only two.
Xie Xiaobao loaded his dipping sauce with chili, leaving his lips red and glossy. As he finished the last shrimp, he licked his lips with a hint of regret.
He Yu saw through him but didn’t comment, chuckling softly and ringing for the waiter to steam more.
Since Xie Xiaobao had claimed he wasn’t eating, He Yu hadn’t ordered much—just one plate of shrimp, now gone, plus a portion of crab and three types of shellfish.
After two days of restraint, Xie Xiaobao let loose. As the crab neared its end, he eyed it longingly, clearly reluctant to finish.
He Yu hadn’t expected him to eat so much—hardly the behavior of someone who’d eaten at home. He ordered more dishes, but worried about the cooling effect of seafood, he asked the waiter to bring a bowl of porridge.
Xie Xiaobao wiped his hands and mouth, sitting obediently across from He Yu, his eyes slightly guilty. He’d said he wouldn’t eat much, yet he’d devoured nearly everything while He Yu mostly peeled shells for him.
He Yu poured him another cup of tea, asking gently, “How’d you get this hungry?”
Xie Xiaobao scratched the tablecloth, mumbling, “I lied. I haven’t eaten in three days.”
He Yu frowned, leaning forward slightly. “What’s going on?”
Xie Xiaobao spilled the beans about his diet plan, scratching his cheek. “I just want to slim down a bit.”
He Yu’s frown deepened, studying him. “Where are you fat? You look great. You’ve grown taller and seem slimmer than when you were a kid.”
“Did you see those online comments?”
Xie Xiaobao nodded, looking a bit wronged. “They all called me fat. I thought… maybe slimming down would be healthier.”
“They’re talking nonsense,” He Yu said, peeling a mantis shrimp. “You’re perfect as is. I checked your profile—your weight’s in the normal range. No need to diet.”
“Besides, a bit of chub brings good luck. Others can only dream of it.”
Xie Xiaobao blinked, stunned. “R-Really?”
He Yu, dead serious, placed the peeled mantis shrimp on his plate. “Of course. Besides that water army, have any of your fans called you fat? They all say you’re cute, right?”
Xie Xiaobao thought it over. True, aside from the smear campaign, no one had called him fat. Even his second brother said he hadn’t gained weight last time they met.
The knot in his heart unraveled. Xie Xiaobao grinned, peeling a mantis shrimp for He Yu and placing it on his plate. “I get it. Thanks!”
He Yu eyed the messily peeled shrimp, his brow twitching, but he ate it anyway.
With his worries gone, Xie Xiaobao’s guilt over eating vanished. He dove in, polishing off two more plates of shrimp and one of shellfish, showing no signs of stopping. He Yu raised an eyebrow and intervened. “Porridge is coming. Seafood’s cooling—have some to settle your stomach.”
“Oh.” Xie Xiaobao, still wanting more, obediently set down his chopsticks.
The seafood porridge arrived, its briny aroma filling the air. Unable to wait for it to cool, Xie Xiaobao slurped it down eagerly.
After finishing the bowl, he rubbed his round, full belly, sighing contentedly.
He Yu wiped his mouth. “More?”
Xie Xiaobao patted his stomach, shaking his head. “I’m full.”
He Yu chuckled. “Let’s walk it off then.”
After paying, they strolled out. The restaurant was on a bustling commercial street lined with eateries and entertainment. They wandered through the crowd, surrounded by liveliness, comfortable in silence.
After the meal, Xie Xiaobao’s view of He Yu shifted. Though He Yu seemed stern and unapproachable, he was gentle and easy to talk to in person.
Not scary at all.
Xie Xiaobao mentally apologized for judging him by appearances and silently awarded He Yu a “good guy” card.
After aimlessly wandering a couple of loops, they found a quieter spot to rest.
Xie Xiaobao tilted his head, looking at He Yu. “Do you remember everything from when we were kids?”
He Yu met his gaze, expression soft. “Yeah, all of it.”
Xie Xiaobao pursed his lips, a bit apologetic. “I… I don’t actually remember anything from back then. I was fibbing earlier.”
He Yu laughed. “I know.”
Xie Xiaobao blinked, belatedly flushing. “You knew?”
He Yu tapped his forehead, smiling. “You’re a bad liar.”
Xie Xiaobao scratched his cheek, embarrassed but curious. “Did we play together a lot as kids?”
He Yu nodded, sharing some childhood stories.
Little Xie Xiaobao was a chubby, fair-skinned, docile kid. His brother and He Yu’s grandma were close, so Xie Xiaobao often tagged along to visit.
Back then, He Yu was a mischievous ringleader, the neighborhood’s child king. He’d drag the timid goodie-two-shoes around, causing trouble. Whenever Xie Xiaobao got scared, he’d hide behind He Yu, clutching his shirt and whispering “big brother.”
He Yu skipped the naughtier bits, sharing fun anecdotes instead. Xie Xiaobao listened, enthralled but regretful. “It’s a shame I don’t remember.”
After eating the wild fruit, his body became unstable. Sent to the island, he endured the pain of forced growth, blurring his early memories.
Once his condition stabilized, he moved out alone, meeting Old Wang and Song Kewen, his first real friends, whom he cherished deeply.
“It’s okay if you don’t remember,” He Yu said, seeing his disappointment. “We can start fresh as friends.”
Xie Xiaobao thought it over, eyes sparkling, and agreed.
“It’s getting late. I’ll drive you back.” He Yu checked the time and stood.
The car stopped at Xie Xiaobao’s building. They said goodbye, and He Yu waited until Xie Xiaobao was upstairs before driving off.
Full, happy, and with a new friend, Xie Xiaobao hummed, bouncing with each step. As he fished for his keys at the door, he suddenly realized—didn’t He Yu say he had something to talk about?