Chapter 25: CH 18

Chapter 18: Relying on Each Other for Sleep

There was no one at home. Cotton Candy was the first to come out and warmly welcome them, while Orange was in the corner of the sofa, simply lifting his head from the noise. After determining it was just them who’d come home, he then lowered his head and turned his back to them to continue sleeping.

Song Yu took off his outer school jacket. He told Yue Zhishi to sit on the sofa and asked him what he wanted to eat. Yue Zhishi had just lifted the dog into his arms and froze when he heard Song Yu’s question — he placed the dog down and followed behind Song Yu into the kitchen. “Song Yu gege, are you cooking?”

Song Yu pulled down the apron hanging on the kitchen wall and tied it around himself. “Is it strange for me to cook?” 

Yue Zhishi shook his head, sitting to the side of the kitchen island. The little Pomeranian dog climbed up his leg and snuggled into his arms. 

“It’s been a long time since I ate your cooking.” 

In the past, Song Jin’s business was a lot busier than now. Lin Rong needed to help take care of the company and was constantly not at home. Song Yu and Yue Zhishi were very young still at that time. They’d tried hiring a nanny, but she once didn’t pay attention to the food she was cooking and gave Yue Zhishi an allergic reaction serious enough to stay in the hospital. From that point on, they didn’t dare hire any nannies. If Lin Rong was too busy, then it would be Song Yu who cooked. Being surrounded by cooking from a young age, Song Yu could be considered quite skilled at it. 

Two little children, one small dining table and a few home cooked dishes — this was a memory Yue Zhishi could see by simply closing his eyes.

“I want maocai.” The Pomeranian’s head rested on the kitchen island, Yue Zhishi caressing his downy head. “And cake.”

Song Yu turned his head back at him as he stood in front of the open fridge, pointing at the corner of his mouth as he raised an eyebrow. 　

Yue Zhishi only then remembered. He touched his mouth and still felt some pain. “But I want to eat it.”　

Song Yu didn’t say anything, merely starting to prepare the ingredients. Yue Zhishi didn’t want him to work by himself, so he also went over to help despite not really know how to cook. He could only help wash the vegetables. The scrape on his fist stung a bit from the water. Yue Zhishi didn’t make a sound, only pausing his movements slightly, but the water suddenly stopped pouring from the faucet. 

“You don’t wash them cleanly enough.” Song Yu tore off a kitchen towel and handed it to him.

Yue Zhishi wiped away the water on his hands. “Then…”

“Stand there,” Song Yu said, head lowered and focused on cutting the vegetables. “It’s fine if you just watch.”

Cotton Candy happily ran over to circle around Song Yu’s legs. Yue Zhishi bent over and picked him up, holding tightly onto his paws. “Don’t bother gege.”

Song Yu cut off a chunk of the beef tallow hot pot base Lin Rong had previously prepared. Once it went into the wok, it felt like the entire kitchen came alive, hissing and steaming. Ginger and garlic went into the now melted chilli oil, the aroma spreading everywhere. Hot water was poured in while the wok was still hot, and the red soup bubbled up and down as it boiled. 

Song Yu tasted it after he added in some further seasonings and thought it was a bit salty. He threw in a variety of cut vegetables. 

As he watched over the wok, Song Yu separated the egg yolks from two eggs and mixed them with wheat free flour. He then gave the egg whites and a hand mixer to Yue Zhishi, signalling him with a look.

Whipping up egg whites was Yue Zhishi’s most favourite thing to do — it could always improve his mood very quickly. It was a magical experience watching the egg whites gradually change from liquid to puffs to finally resemble clouds.

“They’re ready,” Yue Zhishi said, lifting away the hand mixer. The ‘clouds’ formed little peaks as the whisks were pulled out. The peaks were signs of success, and Yue Zhishi was rather satisfied. “Perfect.”

After he plated up the maocai, Song Yu started making pancakes. “There’s not enough time for a cake, this will be faster.”

“A pancake is still a cake,” Yue Zhishi said while he nodded, emphasising the English words.  

Time passed, and the kitchen island soon carried two bowls of rice, a small pot of steaming maocai and a blueberry pancake, two different styles of food combining together. Fatty beef slices were stewed until they melted in the mouth, and when covered by some bright red chilli oil, just the look of them could stir the appetite. Song Yu took out a small glass jar and drizzled some golden osmanthus syrup over the pancake and then pushed it to Yue Zhishi. 

Yue Zhishi picked up a piece of fish and carefully put it into his mouth. He was very cautious when chewing, and his stiff movements were slightly amusing. 

The maocai was full of flavour, numb and spicy at the same time. Yue Zhishi started sweating after eating some of it and stuffed a piece of the syrup covered pancake into his mouth to help cool down the burn. It was soft and spongy like a thick piece of chiffon cake, the flavour warm and smooth. 

His uneasy feelings from the morning slowly dissipated in the midst of red chilli oil and honey.

Everything can be fixed by some delicious food. 

Song Yu ate in silence until he suddenly left his seat and returned with a bag filled with ice. “Put this on your eye.” 

He finally mentioned it. Yue Zhishi took the ice bag and mumbled his thanks, elbow resting against the table as he placed the ice against his eye. He held it for a little bit before he couldn’t help but raise his head. “Is it really ugly?”

Song Yu focused on eating. “You know the answer to that.”

He clearly didn’t care about the issue of his ruined face in front of other people, but Yue Zhishi was very afraid of Song Yu seeing his swollen eye, to the point he disdained himself. He didn’t understand where this difference came from. Sighing, Yue Zhishi said remorsefully, very seriously, “I should’ve dodged that punch.”

Song Yu put down his bowl. “Yue Zhishi, shouldn’t you be regretting the fight instead?” 

“I don’t regret it.” Yue Zhishi looked at him. “I didn’t do anything wrong.” 

Yue Zhishi’s reply somewhat distracted Song Yu. It was like seeing himself when he was younger, so stubborn he refused to admit his mistake despite being beaten until blood streamed down his head.

But Yue Zhishi didn’t want Song Yu to misunderstand him — he actively relaxed the initially obstinate attitude he held in front of the class adviser and started to explain himself. “Gege, I didn’t mean to cause trouble. I actually didn’t plan on fighting in the beginning, it’s just that…” 

Without waiting for him to finish, Song Yu interrupted, “I know.” 

“The person you hit,” Song Yu said, gazing at Yue Zhishi’s eyes as if he already knew the answer. “What did he say?”

Yue Zhishi abruptly stiffened, his hand tightening on the ice bag. His head drooped down as well, almost like a plant wilting in strong sunshine. 

“He said… it’s because my mom’s dead that I’m poking my nose in other people’s business.”

When Wang Qian asked, he wasn’t willing to answer. When Jiang Yufan asked, he didn’t want to answer. Even if Lin Rong or Song Jin had immediately been called, Yue Zhishi could also stop a single word from passing his lips. But for some reason, once Song Yu asked, he answered.

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It seemed like he could only be weak in front of Song Yu.

“I hit him because I couldn’t hold myself back.”

Actually, Song Yu had already guessed the reason. His class representative had been carrying their homework downstairs and just so happened to see Yue Zhishi being scolded in the office. Song Yu initially didn’t believe it when the news spread in class — he was clearer than anyone else that Yue Zhishi didn’t like being in the spotlight. Even if he really was helping a classmate, he still wouldn’t take the initiative to hit someone.

But afterwards, when he heard the bullied student had no parents, Song Yu largely guessed the cause behind the fight.

Even a small dog would bite someone if they stepped on its tail.

But he’d never wanted to be the rebuking older brother. Pretentious, reproachful adults have already done too much. Sometimes they couldn’t even understand children could have their own worries, let alone consider those worries to be important — so they only know how to discipline, to force those children to make unwilling promises. They would never try to care about how those children felt, whether they were in pain, or how badly they were suffering. 

Disciplining or caring — Song Yu was inadequate at both of them.

He watched as Yue Zhishi silently ate with his head lowered, his eyes quickly blinking several times as if he could force the tears back. Song Yu couldn’t tell what what he was feeling, but he discovered that the current Yue Zhishi sitting in front of him was no longer the child who only knew how to hide behind him and cry. 

“Then did you win? Or did he win?”

Yue Zhishi never expected Song Yu to ask him something like that.

He sniffled and lifted his head. The uninjured side of his mouth was smeared with chilli oil, but his expression was fully serious. “I won. I fought four people by myself. I was a bit flustered after someone yelled the teachers were coming, so I didn’t manage to dodge that last punch. My eye wouldn’t have been hit otherwise.”

It looked like he really cared about that punch to his eye. Song Yu grabbed a tissue and was about to hand it to him, but Yue Zhishi said, “I’m not crying. It’s just too spicy.”

Song Yu could only reach over and calmly wipe off the oil on his mouth.

Maybe because it felt like he gave himself away by protesting too much, or maybe because Song Yu personally wiped his mouth for him, but Yue Zhishi’s ears started to burn. He frantically stuffed another piece of the pancake into his mouth and almost choked, coughing for a long while. 

After finishing the food, the two of them cleaned up with enough time remaining for an afternoon nap. Yue Zhishi’s eye felt a lot better after being iced. He went back to his room and looked at himself in the mirror. His eye was black and blue — it really was hard to look at.

Song Yu closed his curtains and lay down onto his bed, casually browsing through his phone. It was full from Qin Yan’s texts. He’d just closed his eyes when he heard knocking on his door, and without even opening his eyes, he said, “What is it?”

“I want to sleep with you,” Yue Zhishi said. His words were clear and direct, but he didn’t take even half a step into the room. 

If this was the past, Song Yu would refuse without a second thought. But today he didn’t — he shifted over on his bed, silently giving permission. 

Yue Zhishi immediately climbed on top. Song Yu opened his eyes, thinking to give him a pillow, but he saw a blindfold sitting on Yue Zhishi’s head. He lightly pulled on the strap and asked, “What’s this for?” 

Yue Zhishi held onto his blindfold. “I want to wear it.”

Song Yu didn’t prevent him from doing so and turned over in the bed. Yue Zhishi obediently lay down as well, quietly gazing at Song Yu’s back. He felt like it’d been a long time since he last slept with Song Yu. When they were younger, he would climb onto Song Yu’s bed with a pillow every time it rained and stick closely to his body. He was less afraid that way, and it was only during those times when he wouldn’t be pushed away. 

But Song Yu was afraid of heat and would always mind when Yue Zhishi, a little meatball of warmth, hugged or clung onto him. Yue Zhishi learned to rest only his forehead on Song Yu’s back, utterly restrained in fulfilling his need to feel secure.

This might be the first time he fell asleep with Song Yu during the day. It just had to be with a ruined face, too. 

Yue Zhishi touched his forehead against Song Yu’s back. He could feel his gege’s heartbeat through his skin and bones, and it felt like he could even smell the very familiar scent of rain, soft and wet and full of hope. 

The illusion was like a hypnotic drug, the steady beat and imagined smell quickly lulling away his defences and pushing him into sleep.

The drug only worked when he was by Song Yu’s side.

He couldn’t help but think — if he could stay like this for the rest of his life, he wouldn’t need anything else.

But he knew he couldn’t. He was no longer that three-year-old child who used all the ways he could think of to stop Song Yu from getting married. He could no longer recklessly cry, and he could no longer open his mouth and say things just to make himself happy.

Yue Zhishi fell asleep with these thoughts. In his dream, everyone’s faces were blurry and unclear: his parents who died early, the adults with sympathetic eyes and the children pushing and shoving at him. Only their voices were very clear.

[Children with no parents are so pitiful.]

[Oh, so you’re an orphan.]

Those voices twisted together and formed a dark shadow, chasing after him as he ran through his winding dream. He couldn’t escape. He wanted to call out Song Yu’s name — just his name — but he had no voice when he opened his mouth. 

“Yue Zhishi, Yue Zhishi…”

He startled awake, his whole body covered in sweat. The image of Song Yu, now grown up, slowly sharpened in his field of vision. Yue Zhishi deeply sighed several times, eyebrows tightly drawn together. “I had a nightmare.” He somehow thought of something Jiang Yufan said a few days ago. “It felt like sleep paralysis.” 

Finished speaking, he very coolly flipped over. “I’m going to continue sleeping.” 

Song Yu lay back down, remnants of the sweat on Yue Zhishi’s forehead still on his palm. He stared at the ceiling, and all he could see was Yue Zhishi’s unresponsive face.

“Yue Zhishi.”

Hearing Song Yu call his name, Yue Zhishi made a noise in response. His voice was the slightest bit nasally and sounded as if he was cutely whining. He cleared his throat, trying to pretend it didn’t happen.

“You used to be such a crybaby when you were younger. You always gave me a headache when you cried, and it made me want to send you away.” 

Song Yu spoke very lightly despite his words of complaint. Yue Zhishi continued facing away from him, unconsciously pressing his lips together. He wanted to retort back, but then Song Yu opened his mouth again, quiet uncertainty threading through his words. 

“How come you don’t like crying anymore now that you’ve grown up?” 

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