Xia Yiyang drifted off to sleep in the hospital bed, and by the time he woke up again, the park was already closing.
The doctor pulled the blue curtain aside with a swoosh, brisk and efficient: “Wake up, wake up, young man, time to get up—the panda base is closing!”
Xia Yiyang opened his eyes groggily, his gaze drifting to the left, and there he saw Sheng Lin standing by the bed.
“Closing?” His brain hadn’t quite caught up yet.
Sheng Lin hummed in acknowledgment and helped him sit up. “How are you feeling now? Any discomfort?”
“Ah… ah!” The boy sat there for a long moment, taking it all in, feeling completely refreshed—clear-headed and sharp-eyed. At the same time, he also remembered what had happened before he passed out: Sheng Lin wiping him down.
His face flushed red again in an instant, and he said in a small voice, “Thank you for taking care of me.”
“No need to thank me.” The man’s expression was as calm as ever, as if everything that had happened in the hospital bed was perfectly normal. He bent down, pulled out the sneakers the boy had kicked off under the bed, loosened the laces, and placed them neatly at his feet.
Xia Yiyang busied himself with tying his shoelaces in a messy tangle, thinking to himself—was he overreacting? After all, they were both guys. Sheng Lin had wiped him down just to help him cool off and keep him from getting sick.
If the roles were reversed, if his boss got sick, then he, as the lowly assistant, would also be running around fetching tea and water at the bedside, trying to be the perfect little comfort blanket… right?
As they left the exam room, the doctor said to Xia Yiyang, “Your brother is really good to you. While you were asleep, he stayed right by your bedside the whole time. I asked if he wanted to sit on the chair outside for a bit, but he said no, he was afraid you’d wake up and not find him.”
“It’s only right,” Sheng Lin replied. “He’s young, and I’m the one who brought him out to have fun. Of course I’m responsible for his safety.”
“I’m not that young!” Xia Yiyang blurted out. “I’m already eighteen!”
The doctor laughed heartily. “Only eighteen! Whether you’re eighteen or eighty, it’s only natural for your brother to take care of you.”
Xia Yiyang muttered under his breath, “He’s not my brother.”
He’s my boss.
The doctor looked at the boy, then at the man beside him, and suddenly realized: “Oh, so you two are… got it, got it.”
Xia Yiyang: “?”
What did the doctor get now?!
…
Because Xia Yiyang had spent too much time resting in the exam room, he ultimately didn’t get to see the red pandas. They walked out through the individual visitor exit, and they were the last guests of the day. The park was quiet, nothing like the lively bustle of the morning.
The boy couldn’t help but sigh. He hadn’t seen the red pandas this time, and who knew when he’d get another chance.
Sheng Lin said, “The red pandas aren’t going anywhere. If you didn’t see them this time, you can come back next time.”
“I even brought fruit for them,” Xia Yiyang said, rummaging through the sports crossbody bag Sheng Lin was carrying and pulling out two large apples. Each one was bigger than a fist, heavy enough to be used as a weapon.
Sheng Lin let out a helpless laugh. “So that’s why your bag was so heavy—you stuffed these in there.”
Xia Yiyang thought to himself, I didn’t ask you to carry my bag. You offered.
Still, the boy felt a little guilty and tried to make up for it by handing one of the apples to him: “Boss, want one?”
Sheng Lin frowned slightly. “Washed?”
Xia Yiyang thought to himself, this man is so fussy. He casually rubbed the apple against his T-shirt and handed it back: “You took care of me just now, so now it’s my turn to repay you. Here, all clean.”
Sheng Lin: “…”
This kid—when he’s acting like a young master, he’s full of delicate airs, but when he’s not, he complains about others being hard to please.
Sheng Lin sighed, took the apple that the young master had vaguely wiped clean, pulled out a bottle of water from the crossbody bag, unscrewed it, and rinsed the apple’s skin repeatedly. Once he was sure it was clean, he handed it back to Xia Yiyang: “You can eat it now.”
Xia Yiyang: “Hehe.”
Crunch — he took a big bite, crisp, sweet, and juicy.
“Boss, you’re so good to me.” The boy munched on his apple while couldn’t help testing the waters. “But why are you so good to me?”
Unexpectedly, Sheng Lin turned the question back on him: “This counts as being good to you?”
“Of course it does.” Xia Yiyang counted on his fingers. “I had nowhere to stay, and you took me in; I got sick, and you took care of me; you even took me out to have fun and washed an apple for me…”
The more he spoke, the quieter his voice became, as if a hazy, blurry moon was rising from the depths of a pond. He wanted to reach out and scoop it up, but all he caught was a handful of splashing water.
“So I really am that good to you.” The corner of Sheng Lin’s mouth curled into a restrained, subtle smile. “How about this then—starting tomorrow, I’ll be bad to you.”
“?”
“From now on, at each employee meal, you can only have one bowl of rice.”
“!!!” Xia Yiyang blurted out, “No way!”
Sheng Lin: “Why not?”
Xia Yiyang argued with all his might: “I work really hard every day! You can’t expect an ox to turn the millstone without feeding it grass. It’s not like I’m asking for some rare delicacy—I just want fried kidney flowers, sweet steamed pork, spicy diced chicken, and steamed pork ribs with rice flour!”
“You’ve got quite the menu memorized.” Sheng Lin raised an eyebrow. “I thought I hired a little worker, but it turns out I hired an emperor.”
Xia Yiyang thought to himself, he was the little emperor of odd jobs—taking and eating from the boss was the real business at hand.
But Sheng Lin’s interruption completely threw Xia Yiyang off track, and he forgot his earlier question—why was Sheng Lin so good to him? It couldn’t be that Sheng Lin was actually his long-lost older brother, could it?
By the time he finished his apple, they had strolled to the parking lot. Xia Yiyang’s hands were sticky, so Sheng Lin poured more water over them to help him rinse off. Once they were both cleaned up, Sheng Lin retrieved the helmet and protective gear from the storage locker. This time, Xia Yiyang didn’t need his help—he put everything on himself, having gotten the hang of it.
Sheng Lin got on the bike first, and the boy placed his hands on the man’s shoulders and swung his leg over to get on as well. However…
“Why are you sitting so far away?” Sheng Lin pushed up the visor on his helmet and turned his head to look at Xia Yiyang in the back seat.
That morning on the way there, Xia Yiyang had been practically plastered against the man’s back, both arms wrapped around his waist. But now, Xia Yiyang was sitting all the way back near the tail of the bike, with a gap between them as wide as the Mariana Trench, holding onto Sheng Lin’s sweatshirt hem with just two fingers.
Anyone watching would have thought they were playing a game of Eagle and Chicks.
Xia Yiyang stammered, “This is… social distancing.”
“Social distancing?” Sheng Lin glanced down at Xia Yiyang’s legs straddling the motorcycle, thinking to himself—when he’d wiped the inside of the boy’s thighs just a little while ago, he hadn’t heard a word about any “social distancing.”
Had this word been invented in the last five minutes or something?
Still, Sheng Lin didn’t keep needling the young master.
He turned back, twisted the throttle, and the motorcycle shot forward—”Ah!” A startled yelp came from behind, and the young master immediately clung to Sheng Lin’s waist, pressing his upper body tightly against him as if his life depended on it.
Sheng Lin felt the hot, lean frame pressed against his back, and a trace of amusement flickered in his eyes beneath the visor.
—Social distancing.
He liked that word.
…
The ride back was slightly congested, taking nearly twice as long as the morning trip to get back to the shop.
“Auntie Zhao, Auntie Li, we’re back!” Xia Yiyang walked in holding his helmet in one hand and a bag of fruit in the other, his cheeks flushed from the wind the whole way. “Look what gifts I brought you!”
The two aunties, who had been leisurely chatting, heard the motorcycle and quickly got up from behind the counter to greet them.
Auntie Zhao said, “Oh, you kid barely earns a few coins—when you go out to play, you should buy stuff for yourself, not for us!”
But she took the fruit faster than anyone, her face beaming with a smile.
Auntie Li said, “You two came back just in time. We were just discussing what to have for dinner. It’s so muggy and stuffy out—how about cold noodles?”
Xia Yiyang’s eyes lit up: “Yes! Yes!”
Sheng Lin parked the motorcycle in the backyard, then went into the kitchen to cut up the fruit.
On the way back from the panda base, they had spotted a roadside fruit farmer selling homegrown kiwis. The van had a license plate from Guangyuan City, and the kiwis weren’t particularly large, but every single one, when cut open, revealed a deep blood-red center radiating outward.
Guangyuan kiwis are famous throughout Sichuan Province. They bought five pounds and carried them all the way back. Even though they’d been careful, some of the skins had gotten bruised and split.
But split skins didn’t affect the flavor. Sheng Lin first picked out the damaged kiwis, putting the rest in the fridge to chill. The skin of the bruised ones peeled off easily in one clean strip. The man quickly sliced them into pieces, stuck toothpicks in each, and called Xia Yiyang over to eat first.
“These are for the aunties—let them have the first bite.” The young master put on a fake show of politeness.
“Don’t pretend,” Sheng Lin said. “You think I didn’t hear you swallowing your saliva the whole way back?”
Only then did Xia Yiyang stop pretending and take a big, eager bite.
The blood-red kiwi was tiny, and as it entered his mouth, it first released the fruit’s signature tartness, which was immediately overwhelmed by a wave of rich sweetness. The fibers were so fine that he barely needed to chew—the flesh melted into juice, spreading across his tongue in a smooth, moist sensation. This unique flavor could only be savored at the fruit’s place of origin.
“Such a shame,” the young master said, after wolfing down the first piece and then slowing down to savor the second. “These kiwis are so delicious—why don’t they sell them downstairs at my place? They only have the yellow-fleshed or green-fleshed ones. I really wish my mom and dad could try some too.”
He was a good kid. At eighteen, he’d never been away from home this long before. Saying he didn’t miss his parents would be a complete lie. With his very first paycheck, he’d bought hotpot seasoning packets and sent them home. Now, tasting these kiwis, his thoughts went straight to them again.
But kiwis were so soft—shipping them would be inconvenient. He’d have to wait until Rongda University started, when his parents came to Rongcheng to see him off, before he could treat them to some.
He mumbled to himself for a while, completely unaware that Sheng Lin had caught every word.
By the time the young master finished his kiwi, Auntie Li’s “secret-recipe cold noodles” were just coming out of the kitchen.
Sichuan folks love cold noodles. The noodles used are a special yellow variety, completely different from northern hand-pulled noodles in both texture and color. Alkaline water is mixed into the flour during kneading. The noodles are cooked until about eighty percent done, then pulled out—unlike in the north, where they’re rinsed in cold water—and quickly spread out on a cutting board, tossed with rapeseed oil to prevent sticking, while an electric fan blows at them full blast. Noodles prepared this way are both chewy and exceptionally smooth.
As for the seasoning, balance is key—numbing, spicy, fragrant, sour, sweet, and savory all in harmony: garlic water, soy sauce, sugar, Baoning vinegar, and house-fried chili oil are must-haves. If conditions allow, a pinch of Sichuan pepper powder, the size of a fingernail… Of course, the aunties would never settle for the bagged pepper powder from the supermarket. They had to buy Hanyuan peppercorns from a specialty seasoning market—get a couple of ounces, bring them home, and grind them into a fine powder that would last at least six months in the kitchen!
“Noodles are ready! Noodles are ready!” Auntie Li called out to everyone. “Usually the boss does the cooking, but today, try my handiwork! The shredded cucumber is in that bowl—help yourselves!”
The bowl set in front of Xia Yiyang was the biggest and most generous, even larger than Sheng Lin’s.
The young master gestured at the massive portion: “This is way too much—there’s no way I can finish all this.”
Auntie Zhao said, “Just start eating, kid. You’re still growing—you usually ask for an extra bowl of rice anyway.”
Sheng Lin chimed in from the side: “Start with what you have, and whatever you can’t finish, give to me.”
“Then I might as well give you some right now,” Xia Yiyang said quickly. “I can’t have my boss eating my leftovers.”
Auntie Li interjected: “What ‘boss’? Everyone knows you two work together during the day, go home together at night, and hang out together on your days off… You’re closer than real brothers!”
Xia Yiyang was at a loss for words.
He instinctively looked at his boss, but Sheng Lin’s expression was perfectly calm, and he even asked if Xia Yiyang wanted more shredded cucumber.
“…” The young master pouted and handed his bowl over. “Yes, please.”
“So tell us,” Auntie Zhao said, already mixing her noodles, “how was your trip to the zoo today? Did you see the pandas?”
That hit Xia Yiyang right in the sweet spot. Between mouthfuls of cold noodles, he animatedly recounted all the pandas and panda cubs he’d seen today. When he got really excited, he even pulled out his phone to show the two aunties the videos he’d taken.
In the videos, the adorable pandas were either munching bamboo, strolling around, or playing with toys—their charm capable of melting every human in sight.
Of course, he deliberately skipped over the part about his heatstroke. On one hand, he didn’t want the aunties to worry; on the other… he really didn’t want to relive the details of Sheng Lin wiping him down.
Now, whenever he closed his eyes, he felt like he was back in that quiet, curtained hospital room, feeling the sway of the bed curtains and the numbing, tingling sensation of the cold-water-soaked towel gently pressed between his thighs.
“Looks like you two had a great time. So where are you going next weekend?” Auntie Li suddenly asked.
Xia Yiyang froze: “…Huh?”
Auntie Zhao said with concern, “It’s summer vacation now, and tourists are everywhere. I saw on my phone the other day that several scenic spots in Sichuan require booking tickets a week in advance online—otherwise, you won’t get a single one! You two need to plan ahead, or you’ll end up circling the entrance with no way in and no tears to cry!”
But—but the young master had never even considered going out with Sheng Lin again next weekend.
He’d thought this was just a one-time thing.
Before Xia Yiyang could figure out how to respond, Sheng Lin suddenly spoke up.
“Already planned,” the man said in a steady tone. “We’re taking an extra day off next week. I’m taking him up into the mountains to escape the heat.”
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