HL 19

“What the hell are you talking about? Tofu pudding obviously has to be savory,” Xu Nanxiao said, looking disgusted. “Sweet tofu pudding—is that even fit for human consumption?”

Ying Yusheng, who usually went along with him, refused to back down this time. “I’ve eaten sweet tofu pudding my whole life—with osmanthus syrup and sugar water. It’s delicious. Don’t you like sweet things?”

“Tofu pudding is different,” Xu Nanxiao curled his lip. “You damn southerner, what do you know about tofu pudding?”

“Heh.” Ying Yusheng propped his chin on his hand and gave a faint, unruffled smile. “Since when does someone from Yanqing District get to call themselves a true-blue Beijinger?”

“Fuck! I—”

Before he could finish, two bowls of tofu pudding were slammed down in front of them.

“What’s there to argue about? One sweet, one savory—both right here. Problem solved,” the housekeeper said, hands on her hips.

Ying Yusheng realized how childish he’d been and smiled apologetically, nodding his thanks. “Sorry—yes, thank you, Auntie.”

“Thanks,” Xu Nanxiao muttered awkwardly, then picked up his spoon and buried his head in his bowl.

As he ate, he suddenly heard Ying Yusheng say, “The sweet tofu pudding is really good. Want a taste?”

Xu Nanxiao looked up to find Ying Yusheng’s spoon already extended to his lips, the other man smiling as he said, “Ah—”

Xu Nanxiao nearly broke out in goosebumps. He leaned back and said disdainfully, “I’m not eating anything fed to me by a guy.”

Ying Yusheng shrugged, withdrew his spoon, and pushed the bowl slightly toward Xu Nanxiao.

Seeing Ying Yusheng’s expectant look, Xu Nanxiao sighed and, as if just going through the motions, scooped up a spoonful and put it in his mouth.

The silky tofu pudding slid down his throat with the amber-colored syrup, and his tongue gave a sudden tremor—a faint, elusive warmth of ginger rising from it.

“?”

Seeing Xu Nanxiao’s eyes light up suddenly, like a child who’d just gotten candy, Ying Yusheng knew he liked it and unconsciously curved his lips.

“How is it?”

“…Not bad.”

Xu Nanxiao was about to sneak another spoonful from Ying Yusheng’s bowl when his phone suddenly rang.

He kept sneaking bites of Ying Yusheng’s tofu pudding while pressing the answer button, mumbling into the phone, “Yingjie? What’s up?”

But the voice on the other end was an unfamiliar girl’s, and the background was noisy—she had to raise her volume for Xu Nanxiao to hear her clearly: “Excuse me, are you Yingjie’s older brother?”

“Yes,” Xu Nanxiao frowned and put down his spoon. “What’s wrong?”

“Lu Yingjie is drunk out of his mind. He’s insisting on seeing you, and we can’t talk him out of it no matter what. If you have time, could you please come over now?”

Lu Yingjie normally never touched alcohol—even when urged to drink, he’d refuse. Xu Nanxiao never dreamed he’d get dead drunk at a bar.

So all this time, he’d just been playing the good boy in front of him.

Xu Nanxiao immediately got the bar’s address from the girl, threw on his denim jacket, and was about to head out. He turned, about to say something to Ying Yusheng, when he noticed the other man’s expression had turned cold and gloomy, his spoon listlessly mashing the tofu pudding in his bowl.

“What’s wrong with you?” Xu Nanxiao asked.

But by the time Ying Yusheng looked up, his face was once again gentle and refined, as if everything had been an illusion.

“Me? What’s wrong? Go on—don’t keep Yingjie waiting.”

Xu Nanxiao didn’t think much of it. He acknowledged with a sound and left the house.

Arriving at the bar, Xu Nanxiao spotted Lu Yingjie at once. Lu Yingjie had his eyes closed, being propped up by several guys and girls, swaying unsteadily.

“Hey, stand up straight!”

“No, no, I can’t hold him anymore—how is this guy so heavy!”

Xu Nanxiao called out, “Lu Yingjie!”

Under the astonished gazes of the group, he strode over in a few steps and asked with a frown, “What happened to him?”

At the sound of Xu Nanxiao’s voice, Lu Yingjie’s ear twitched. He groggily opened his eyes, froze for a moment, then immediately pushed away the classmates holding him up and threw his arms around Xu Nanxiao, nearly knocking him off balance.

“Ge…” His voice choked with tears, he buried his face in Xu Nanxiao’s shoulder, his whole body trembling.

Lu Yingjie was half a head taller than him and solidly built, pressing down on Xu Nanxiao until it was hard to breathe. Adjusting to a more comfortable position, Xu Nanxiao patted Lu Yingjie’s back as he asked the onlooking classmates, “What happened to him?”

The girl with the ponytail said, “Yingjie’s been in a bad mood lately. His roommate snores, so he hasn’t been sleeping well—he’s been having some neurasthenia. And today, a paper he’d been preparing for a long time got rejected by JPSP.”

“We came out for drinks to cheer him up,” the guy on the right added.

“Um, excuse me, are you Yingjie’s…”

“Older brother,” Xu Nanxiao answered curtly. Then he pushed Lu Yingjie back, turned him around, and slung one of Lu Yingjie’s arms over his shoulder.

Xu Nanxiao rubbed Lu Yingjie’s head firmly. Seeming to realize that Xu Nanxiao was now by his side, Lu Yingjie’s sobs gradually quieted down. He hung his head and stopped moving.

“Thanks for today. We’re heading off now.” Xu Nanxiao turned to the group. “You all should get home early too. And don’t take him out drinking again.”

The classmates nodded quickly.

It took some effort for Xu Nanxiao to get Lu Yingjie into a taxi.

He thought that if Lu Yingjie woke up and found himself hungover at his teacher’s place, he’d probably be too mortified to live. So Xu Nanxiao found a nearby hotel and decided to stay out with Lu Yingjie for the night.

From the moment they got into the taxi, Lu Yingjie had been in a deep sleep.

The back seat of the taxi was cramped, and the smell of alcohol mixed with the car’s air freshener—not exactly pleasant.

Lu Yingjie slumped to one side, his head resting against the window. At least now he was calm. The streetlights swept across his face in strips, his skin so pale that the faint blue veins beneath were visible. Even without his usual bright, dewy, innocent eyes, he still looked exceptionally well-behaved.

Lu Yingjie muttered something unintelligible and unconsciously nuzzled against the window, like a puppy finding a comfortable corner. It made something in Xu Nanxiao’s chest inexplicably soften—endearing and a little comical.

The driver, seeing how young Lu Yingjie was and that their destination was a hotel, couldn’t help but ask, “Is this your friend?”

Xu Nanxiao, startled from his thoughts, looked up, not understanding where the driver was going with this. “I’m his brother.”

“Brother? You don’t look alike…”

“None of your business?” Xu Nanxiao snapped impatiently, successfully shutting the driver’s yapping mouth.

After composing himself, Xu Nanxiao couldn’t help but glance at Lu Yingjie again.

That was right—everyone who heard they were brothers said they didn’t look alike. How could they? They weren’t really brothers—their veins didn’t carry the same blood.

Then why had he been Lu Yingjie’s older brother for all these years? And why had he rushed over tonight, not even finishing his tofu pudding?

Though he was only twenty-eight, after one thing after another and disappointment after disappointment, Xu Nanxiao could feel his emotions gradually wearing thin. He felt hollowed out, unable to muster that so-called “love” anymore, unable to form any resilient “connections” with anyone.

And Lu Yingjie was the last person he’d formed a “connection” with before losing that ability. You could even say that Lu Yingjie was his only “connection” in this world.

He was like a kite adrift, ready to float away from this world at any moment—a worthless life, nothing to pity. But Lu Yingjie held onto that string for him.

Yet even that string wasn’t all that sturdy, really.

After all, they’d been apart for too long.

From eighteen to twenty-five—ever since Lu Yingjie’s family moved away seven years ago—they’d had no contact. And in those seven years, Xu Nanxiao had gone through his father’s imprisonment, an accidental death he’d caused, and the desertion of everyone around him—every second of it, he’d endured alone.

When Xu Nanxiao lay sleepless in the detention center, he’d sometimes think: if only Lu Yingjie were here. Even though he’d only run around in a panic and be useless, at least having someone to huddle with, to lick each other’s wounds, would have made it less unbearable. Just like countless times when they were kids.

Later, Xu Nanxiao got used to having no one by his side.

He found that he could manage without Lu Yingjie too.

Perhaps somewhere deep in his heart, Xu Nanxiao did hold a little resentment toward Lu Yingjie for leaving without a word. That one line—”I changed my phone”—had swept away all those unanswered call logs.

And with Xu Nanxiao’s personality, he would never press for answers.

Xu Nanxiao dumped Lu Yingjie onto the hotel bed.

Along the way, Xu Nanxiao had been covered in the smell of alcohol, mixed with the sweat from the heat. Even he was disgusted with himself, so he decided to take a shower first.

Just then, Xu Nanxiao noticed that Lu Yingjie had woken up at some point. Lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, he was silently crying—tears soaking a small patch of the bedsheet by his ear.

“What’s wrong? It can’t really just be because your paper got rejected, can it?” Xu Nanxiao let out a long sigh, frowning as he crouched by the bed. “Look at you—so pathetic.”

“Ge,” Lu Yingjie said in a trembling voice, “will you let me live with you?”

Xu Nanxiao froze.

“I want to live with you. I don’t care if it’s two hours on the subway every day. Please don’t live with Professor Ying anymore—live with me, okay?”

“Why?” Xu Nanxiao didn’t understand.

Why?

Lu Yingjie would never let Xu Nanxiao know why—just as Xu Nanxiao didn’t know that the reason Lu Yingjie’s family had moved away back then was because, at fourteen, Lu Yingjie had come out to his family for Xu Nanxiao’s sake, causing an earth-shattering upheaval.

Nor would he know how much Lu Yingjie had sacrificed to keep his parents from harming Xu Nanxiao, the bone-deep longing he’d endured over the years, or how much effort he’d put into reuniting with him—and was still putting in.

Perhaps that was precisely why Ying Yusheng had never taken Lu Yingjie seriously. Lu Yingjie was too hesitant, cowering in the safe zone of “little brother” and never daring to step out.

If Xu Nanxiao were to marry a woman in the future, Ying Yusheng wouldn’t hesitate—he’d come over smiling and break his legs to take him away. But Lu Yingjie would only cry and wish him a happy wedding.

“My head hurts so much… I haven’t slept well for months. My roommate snores, and I’m a light sleeper… I told them, and they said I was being too picky and isolated me. I really can’t take it anymore…”

The more Lu Yingjie spoke, the more tears flowed—for his grievances, for his heartache, for the truth hidden behind lies.

As he cried, he suddenly felt a pair of warm hands wipe away his tears. He froze, his sobs catching in his throat.

Lu Yingjie turned his head, the corners of his eyes red, and looked at Xu Nanxiao, whose expression was one of pure impatience.

“Move out tomorrow and live with me. I’ll rent a new place.” Xu Nanxiao flicked him on the forehead and relented. “There—happy now? You useless little waste.”