By the time Sheng Lin finished wiping down and came out of the bathroom, Xia Yiyang had already burrowed under the covers.
The empty instant noodle cup had been tossed into the trash. The young master was curled up facing away from him, playing on his phone under the blanket.
There was no power in the room, and the rain outside was still heavy, so Sheng Lin could only vaguely make out a mound of blankets on the bed, with the glow of the phone screen shining out from beneath it like stolen moonlight.
Sheng Lin: “Going to bed so early?”
A muffled reply came from under the covers: “Tired.”
“?” Sheng Lin glanced at his watch. “It’s only eight o’clock.”
The young master replied: “I didn’t sleep well last night, and today I hiked and got caught in the rain. I need to sleep early.”
The excuse was reasonable enough.
But the real reason was that Xia Yiyang had seen The Giant Flashlight through the bathroom glass and wasn’t mentally prepared to face its owner just yet.
So he could only take refuge in the nest he’d built with his blankets, wrapping himself up tight into a small ball—that was the only way to soothe his pounding heart.
The two beds were incredibly close together. He deliberately turned his back to Sheng Lin’s bed, pressing himself into the corner of his own.
Seeing this, Sheng Lin assumed he was genuinely exhausted and didn’t disturb him further. He quietly hung their wet clothes by the window.
Hopefully they’d dry by tomorrow. (Highly unlikely.)
And hopefully little Xia Yiyiyi would sleep dreamlessly through the night. (Also unlikely.)
…
The rain fell all night long. When Xia Yiyang woke up the next morning, his entire body felt like it had been run over by a truck.
He was in so much pain he couldn’t even get out of bed—his legs ached fiercely from his pelvis down, as if they didn’t even belong to him anymore.
So this was the power of hiking?
No wonder they said: if no one loves you, go hiking—because after hiking, your whole body hurts.
Sheng Lin had gotten up early. Seeing Xia Yiyang groaning and writhing around in bed wrapped in his blanket was quite amusing.
“What’s wrong?”
“Boss—no, Brother Lin, my legs hurt.” Xia Yiyang was now calling him “Brother Lin” quite smoothly. He pleaded pitifully, “You hiked yesterday too—don’t you hurt at all?”
Sheng Lin shook his head. He jogged at least five times a week; the exertion from yesterday was nothing to him.
He walked over to the bed, pulled the groaning young master upright—but the moment he let go, the boy flopped right back down.
Xia Yiyang now finally understood how the Little Mermaid must have felt walking on knives after becoming human. He suspected that the moment his feet touched the floor, he’d turn into foam.
Sheng Lin: “You really won’t get up? It rained all night, but now it’s stopped—the air outside is especially nice.”
Xia Yiyang hugged his blanket tighter: “No.”
Sheng Lin: “The power’s back on. You said you didn’t like the sponge bath last night—now you can take a proper hot shower.”
Xia Yiyang rolled over in bed, still giving the same answer: “No.”
Seeing how uncomfortable he was, Sheng Lin decided to respect his choice: “If you’re this miserable, you can just rest at the homestay today. Our bus back to Rongcheng isn’t until evening anyway. I’ll go cancel the crayfish fishing—”
“—Brother Lin, even though I’m really sore, you planned this crayfish trip for so long and I’d feel terrible letting you down. So I think we should just go now!” Xia Yiyang struggled to pull himself out of bed, speaking with great consideration. “Please don’t feel bad—you’ve taken care of me so much, it’s only right that I go along with your plans.”
Wasn’t the lobster in The Little Mermaid named Sebastian? It had been so long—he really should catch up with his fellow crustacean.
The rain-washed mountain air was especially fresh and invigorating, filled with the pleasant scent of plants. It was a bit chilly—the jacket Xia Yiyang had worn yesterday was still wet, so he could only drape the panda blanket Sheng Lin had bought him over his shoulders. A little childish, but perfectly warm.
It turned out the crayfish fishing spot Sheng Lin had mentioned was right behind the homestay—a shallow reed-filled pond connected to the upstream waterfall. The flash flood from yesterday’s rain had swelled the pond, making the water murky and cloudy; only vague clusters of aquatic plants could be seen at the bottom.
Xia Yiyang asked incredulously: “There are really crayfish here? All I see is muddy water.”
Sheng Lin explained: “Muddy water makes it easier to catch things. Crayfish naturally live in reed marshes, where they hunt small fish and shrimp.”
The path to the best fishing spot was slippery and wet. Xia Yiyang was feeling unwell and couldn’t walk fast, so he had no choice but to lean on Sheng Lin’s arm, hobbling along slowly and painfully. Sheng Lin carefully supported him, matching his pace, and reminded him to watch his step.
The homestay owner asked: “What’s wrong with this young man?”
Xia Yiyang grimaced and complained: “Overdid it yesterday—now my back hurts, my butt hurts, my thighs hurt—everything hurts.”
Sheng Lin comforted him: “Don’t worry, I’ll give you a massage when we get back.”
“Don’t you dare trouble yourself,” the young master said awkwardly. “We did the exact same amount of exercise, but you’re bouncing around while I’m aching all over. If the aunties find out, they’ll make fun of me again.”
The homestay owner looked at Sheng Lin, then at Xia Yiyang, and suddenly understood.
“Ahh, ohh… I see.”
So these two guests were that kind of relationship—why had they booked twin beds yesterday? A big bed would have been so much more comfortable.
The owner pointed out a good fishing spot and handed them the pre-prepared fishing poles and bait.
Xia Yiyang wasn’t a complete beginner at fishing—as a kid, he’d gone fishing with his dad once. But they’d spent an entire afternoon with his dad catching nothing, and Xia Yiyang had gotten so sunburned that his neck peeled and his skin darkened by three shades. When they got home, his mom gave them both an earful, and no one ever mentioned fishing again.
Although they’d caught nothing that time, Xia Yiyang remembered his dad’s gear being quite elaborate—several types of bait and multiple fishing rods.
But all the homestay owner gave them was a few pieces of pork liver, each about the size of a circle made by thumb and index finger. As for the fishing rods—they were just branches broken off a tree, with cotton string tied to them. No hooks at all!
Legend had it that Jiang Taigong fished with a hookless rod, and still caught those willing to bite. But Xia Yiyang touched his chin and didn’t find any beard growing there.
Xia Yiyang suspected the homestay owner was messing with him, and he had ample evidence. Sheng Lin, however, was unfazed. He tied a piece of pork liver to one end of the string, with the other end attached to the branch, and handed this crude “fishing rod” to the young master.
“Fish,” the man said.
“How?”
“Just like this.” Sheng Lin motioned for Xia Yiyang to lower the pork liver into the shallow water. “When you feel a pull on the other end of the rod, lift it up.”
Xia Yiyang took the rod hesitantly: “This fishing rod is way too casual—there’s not even a hook—”
Before he could finish, he actually felt a faint tug on the rod! Something seemed to have grabbed the pork liver and was pulling it down into the water!
He reflexively lifted the rod—and a feisty little crayfish was indeed dangling from it!
The crayfish had one claw clamped tightly onto the pork liver, while the other claw waved threateningly in the air, like a pirate captain defending its treasure.
Sheng Lin calmly extended his long-handled net and with a deft flick, the crayfish’s grip gave way and it dropped into the net.
Xia Yiyang blurted out: “My Sebastian!”
Sheng Lin: “?” He paused for a second, then handed the crayfish over. “You know it?”
“Not really—I saw it in a movie where it played a supporting role.”
Upon hearing this, Sheng Lin poked the little crayfish, which was still brandishing its claws, with the fishing rod: “No wonder it’s so feisty—turns out it’s a movie star.”
By the shallow pond, a staff member listened to the conversation between Xia Yiyang and Sheng Lin with great confusion, feeling like they were speaking in riddles. The most incredible part was that their nonsensical banter actually seemed to connect.
She asked the homestay owner: “Boss, have those two handsome guys lost their minds?”
The homestay owner replied with an air of profound wisdom: “What do you know? If you don’t talk nonsense when you’re courting someone, then when are you supposed to talk nonsense?”
…
The young master spent the entire morning fishing for crayfish by the shallow pond—and miraculously, his back stopped aching, his legs stopped hurting, and he could squat for hours without feeling tired. He did the fishing, while Sheng Lin played support beside him—handling the net, poking with the rod, baiting with pork liver, and also peeling oranges and fanning the young master.
In the end, they hauled in a full bucket of crayfish, each one as big as a palm, claws waving aggressively, ready to escape if given half a chance.
The homestay offered processing services—steamed or spicy—but the wait time was fairly long.
The two went back to their room to tidy up. Before long, a staff member knocked on the door to tell them the crayfish were ready.
“So fast?” Xia Yiyang was surprised. “I thought you said it would take a long time?”
“The bucket you caught hasn’t been cooked yet,” the staff member explained. “This portion was pre-ordered by Mr. Sheng yesterday—iced crayfish, prepared early this morning and chilled in the fridge until now. Perfect timing.”
Xia Yiyang had never even heard of iced crayfish! Back in Beijing, Guijie Street had plenty of crayfish joints, but they only served hot preparations like spicy or steamed. When it came to food, Sichuan people definitely knew best.
They didn’t go to the dining area—they had the crayfish brought straight to their room. The table was set by the floor-to-ceiling window, and they enjoyed the bamboo mountain view while feasting on crayfish—nothing could beat this.
The bright red crayfish were neatly arranged in a glass dish, completely soaked in amber-colored sauce. Large chunks of clear ice floated in the liquid, sending out cold vapor that coated the outside of the dish with fine droplets of condensation. A few slices of lemon garnished the top, their fresh citrus fragrance wafting over and making the young master’s mouth water.
He rolled up his sleeves, ready to attack the first crayfish, when Sheng Lin suddenly stopped him.
“Wait,” Sheng Lin frowned at the server. “Your iced crayfish—are they soaked in yellow wine?”
…Wine?
Xia Yiyang sniffed the air and only then realized that the crayfish in front of him did indeed have a hint of alcohol.
The server explained: “Our crayfish sauce includes huadiao wine… Oh dear, can you not drink?”
It turned out there’d been a misunderstanding when placing the order. Most iced crayfish on the market used a soy sauce-based marinade, but this homestay added huadiao wine for extra fragrance, making it their signature dish beloved by returning customers. Sheng Lin hadn’t known this and had ordered incorrectly.
Sheng Lin pointed at Xia Yiyang: “He’s young—do you have a non-alcoholic version? Can we switch?”
“Who says?!” Xia Yiyang quickly grabbed two crayfish with both hands, afraid they’d be taken away. “I just turned eighteen—I’m not a minor. What’s wrong with a little wine in the food?”
What boy hadn’t secretly stolen sips of his dad’s alcohol in high school? Not to brag, but Xia Yiyang had downed an entire can of Yanjing Pure Draft and still managed to finish two math worksheets afterward.
He swiftly twisted off the head and claws of the crayfish, then gave the body a twist and a shake—the shell came off cleanly and effortlessly. The huadiao-infused meat was firm and springy. With one bite, the subtle aroma of wine mixed with refreshing lemon danced across his palate.
“!!” His eyes went wide. “This is so good!”
As he spoke, he peeled another crayfish and offered it to Sheng Lin’s mouth.
“Brother Lin, try it.”
His logic was simple: once Sheng Lin tasted how delicious these wine-marinated iced crayfish were, he’d never want to send them back!
Sheng Lin looked down at the glistening piece of shrimp meat offered to his lips. After a pause, he leaned in and took a bite.
The man’s thin lips brushed lightly against the young master’s fingertips—a warm touch that lasted less than a second, yet seemed to leave a permanent mark.
“Really good.” The wine’s fragrance spread between his lips and teeth. Sheng Lin looked into the young master’s eyes and said, “Since you like it, we’ll keep it.”
“…”
In that moment of eye contact, the warmth of the wine spread from the tip of his tongue all the way to his fingertips.
The young master flusteredly dropped his gaze and busied himself peeling another shrimp.
Look at this crayfish! It had a shell, claws, a tail… It looked—it looked really… crayfishy.
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