Xia Yiyang coughed so hard he could barely catch his breath. The tips of his ears were an unnatural red, and a pool of tears glistened in his eyes, making him look rather pitiful.
Sheng Lin quickly handed him water and patted his back: “What made you choke all of a sudden? Is the hotpot too spicy?”
Across the table, Qin Zaozao quickly pushed his bowl of plain water in front of the teenager: “Little Xia, just do what I do—rinse it before eating! It’s not embarrassing!”
Xia Yiyang firmly pushed the bowl of water back.
“Brother Lin,” he forced himself to calm down and looked up at Sheng Lin. “You said Rongda—as in the Rongda right across from our shop?”
Sheng Lin: “Yes.”
Xia Yiyang: “Why have you never mentioned it before?”
Sheng Lin found it amusing: “Why would I specifically mention that? Selling ice jelly doesn’t require a diploma.”
“…” That was true.
From what Xia Yiyang knew of him, Brother Lin was definitely not the type to flaunt his prestigious degree to show off. If he were that vain, would he be content running a simple ice jelly shop?
…
After the late-night hotpot meal, Xia Yiyang reeked of hotpot. Sheng Lin walked home with him, letting the night breeze both aid digestion and air out the smell.
But Xia Yiyang walked rather absentmindedly.
He’d insisted on walking on the curb to “gain height” because he thought Sheng Lin was too tall—but he’d barely taken a few steps before falling off the curb and nearly twisting his ankle.
Sheng Lin caught him: “What’s wrong with you?”
Xia Yiyang: “What do you mean?”
“Try playing dumb one more time?” Sheng Lin said. “Ever since I told you that Qin Zaozao and I graduated from Rongda, you’ve been in a daze. Even a ghost could tell something’s on your mind.”
The young master had to admit: “I was thinking about something. I was wondering—is the employment rate for your school and department a bit too low?”
“?”
“Look—you and Master Qin are the only two Rongda mechanical engineering graduates I know. One became a fortune-teller, the other sells ice jelly…” He looked worried. “How do you transfer majors at Rongda? Is it easy?”
Sheng Lin thought he’d misheard: “Weren’t you the one who just told Qin Zaozao that whatever you want to do after graduation is ‘proper’? Now you’ve changed your mind?”
Xia Yiyang muttered quietly: “Of course I changed my mind. Before, I was just hearing a story—now I’m the one in the story.”
Though his voice was soft, the night street was so quiet that every word reached Sheng Lin’s ears clearly.
Sheng Lin stopped in his tracks, his gaze heavy with confusion: “What do you mean by that?”
“Exactly what I said!” Xia Yiyang bravely met his gaze, then immediately looked away guiltily. “Brother Lin, I got into AE#$%^$%&*%.”
His words came out so fast it was like they’d burned his tongue.
Sheng Lin strained to hear: “You got into what?”
Xia Yiyang took a deep breath and said it again: “I got into ST￥%&% University’s #￥… school.”
This time it was a little slower, but the key words were still unclear.
But it was enough. More than enough.
Sheng Lin vaguely guessed the answer.
He hardly dared to believe it.
He was afraid of getting his hopes up too soon. Afraid it was just a false joy.
“Yiyi,” he called his name, each word spoken slowly and deliberately. “Are you trying to tell me that you got into Rongda’s School of Mechanical Engineering? Is that right?”
“…”
“You’re going to be my junior, aren’t you?”
“…”
“You’re going to stay in Rongcheng, aren’t you?”
Sheng Lin held his breath, waiting for an answer, not rushing.
After what felt like an eternity, the reluctant teenager finally glanced up at him and gave a very quick, very slight nod.
“Yes.”
Xia Yiyang heard himself say: “Brother Lin, I’m staying in Rongcheng. I’m going to be your junior.”
Before the words had even fully landed, Sheng Lin pulled Xia Yiyang into his arms, locking his arms around him and holding the teenager tight.
He’d always thought he’d prepared himself for goodbye, that he could calmly offer his blessings when Xia Yiyang left. But it wasn’t until this moment—until this miracle arrived—that he heard the suppressed voice in his heart: he didn’t want him to go. He wanted him to stay by his side.
“Wh-what are you doing?!” Xia Yiyang instantly bristled, trying to escape his embrace. “We both reek of hotpot—it’s disgusting!”
“It’s okay,” Sheng Lin lowered his head and breathed in the scent of the person in his arms—yep, definitely a hotpot smell. “I don’t mind you.”
“I smell great—it’s me who minds you!” The young master felt like he was suffocating in Sheng Lin’s embrace. How could someone have such a broad chest, and why was he holding on so tight?
But try as he might, Xia Yiyang couldn’t break free. Sheng Lin’s arms were too warm, too gentle—like a summer breeze smoothing out all his crumpled teenage anxieties, letting him lose himself completely in this night.
The only ones sharing this night with them were the camphor leaves rustling overhead.
Xia Yiyang whispered: “Brother Lin, I’m sorry I lied to you—I said I was just working a summer job, but I was really going to leave for college as soon as it ended.”
He heard Sheng Lin’s chest vibrate as he spoke: “I already knew.”
“What?!” He instinctively struggled, but was pressed back down again.
“Xia Yiyi, did you really think you were hiding it well?” Sheng Lin looked down at him, a smile in his eyes, and in that smile was the reflection of the boy. “I knew from your very first day of work. You said you were working to support your family—but what ordinary family could raise a pampered little emperor like you? Your first week on the job, you’d never washed a dish, never swept the floor, never cut fruit, and you couldn’t even be bothered to right a bottle of honey that had tipped over…”
Xia Yiyang stomped hard on his foot and squeezed out two words through his teeth: “Re-phrase.”
Sheng Lin winced in pain and could only rephrase: “I really did know from your first day. You’re so smart, so quick-witted—you can learn anything after being taught once and even apply it in new ways. How could you possibly be just a laborer? You’re clearly a top student, the kind who’s meant for college. Getting a degree is the real deal—you’re bound for great things. Working here making ice jelly is honestly a waste of your talent.”
“Mmm~” Xia Yiyang was floating from the praise. “That’s more like it.”
Still, he had to add: “Since you already knew I got into college, why didn’t you ask me all this time? Do you know how agonizing it’s been, trying to figure out how to tell you? I couldn’t eat, couldn’t think, couldn’t sleep!”
Couldn’t eat? Sheng Lin hadn’t noticed that.
Couldn’t sleep? Sheng Lin hadn’t noticed that either.
Sheng Lin sighed helplessly: “I thought you were going back to Beijing for school. I was afraid that saying too much would only make it harder for you.”
“Oh, so you’ve been wanting me to leave all along!” Xia Yiyang huffed. “My admission letter is sitting right in my suitcase. I was going to show it to you, but now I don’t want to.”
This time, Xia Yiyang mustered his strength and shoved Sheng Lin away, then turned and stomped off toward home.
But he walked slowly, dragging his feet, thinking with every step—why hasn’t Sheng Lin caught up yet? Why isn’t he coming to coax me?
After fewer than ten steps, Xia Yiyang stopped and turned back to look at Sheng Lin.
The man stood beneath the layered shadows of the trees. Up close, the complex expression on his face was completely visible.
What’s this…
Xia Yiyang thought—why was Brother Lin looking at him like that? Like he’d found a lost treasure, or like he’d finally managed to keep a cat that longed for freedom from running away.
Before his brain could catch up, his feet were already carrying him back toward Sheng Lin.
And Sheng Lin opened his arms to welcome him.
The teenager crashed into the man’s embrace.
This time, Xia Yiyang raised his arms willingly, sliding them under Sheng Lin’s armpits, his fingers digging deep into the fabric of the other’s back, twisting it into messy wrinkles. His knuckles turned white from the force, and his chest ached from the pressure—but the boy didn’t loosen his grip by even a fraction.
He tentatively pressed his cheek against Sheng Lin’s neck.
How strange—he didn’t need to stand on tiptoe, nor did he need to bend down. Like two perfectly interlocking puzzle pieces, they fit together just right.
…
That night, after showering, Xia Yiyang and Sheng Lin lay side by side on the big bed in the bedroom, neither sleeping a wink until dawn began to break. Only then did they finally collapse from exhaustion and fall asleep at the same time.
That’s right—they’d talked the entire night 🙂
Of course, it was Xia Yiyang pestering Sheng Lin to talk.
The young master had so many questions: What was college life really like? Was it true there was no fixed class structure? Did professors really not remember every student? Didn’t that mean you could skip class whenever you wanted? Did all professors take attendance? What were elective courses vs. required courses? Did you have to scramble to sign up for classes? What happened if you didn’t earn enough credits? Was passing finals really all that mattered? And you could actually choose aerobics or tai chi sword for PE…?
By the middle of the night, Sheng Lin was exhausted, but Xia Yiyang’s eyes were still wide and bright as an owl’s, staring at him expectantly, waiting for answers.
Sheng Lin’s heart softened yet again: “You can only ask one last question.”
Xia Yiyang seized this precious opportunity: “So what’s the employment rate for your school and department…”
Sheng Lin let out a long sigh, reached out, and covered the boy’s eyes with his palm: “Sleep.”
Xia Yiyang refused. His eyes kept blinking, his long lashes brushing against the man’s palm, sending an undeniable tickle through it.
So naughty, yet so delicate.
Xia Yiyang slept until the sun was high in the sky. By the time he finally dragged himself out of bed, the aunties had already arrived and opened the shop.
Sheng Lin got up and went to work at his usual time, showing no sign of having stayed up with the young master until dawn. He was as energetic as ever—truly a physical monster.
When Xia Yiyang came downstairs, it was just in time for lunch. Today’s meal was simple—a bowl of homemade noodles with blanched water spinach on the side, the perfect summer combination for beating the heat.
Seeing Xia Yiyang arrive, the aunties teased him: “Oh my, our college student finally smelled the food and got out of bed!”
“Ahh!” Xia Yiyang turned red from his fingertips to the tips of his ears. “How do you guys know too?”
Sheng Lin handed him a bowl of noodles: “Isn’t this good news? Let the aunties share in the joy.”
Xia Yiyang muttered: “You should have let me say it myself. Now that you’ve told them, there’s no surprise left.”
After two months of getting along, the two aunties had come to treat the young master like their own grandson. Learning that he’d gotten into college made them happier than anyone.
Auntie Zhao widened her eyes and slapped her thigh: “I remember the results came out in July! You waited all this time to say something—you really know how to keep your mouth shut!”
Auntie Li chimed in: “Are you saying we old ladies aren’t worthy of knowing? Looking down on us, huh!”
“No, no, no!” Xia Yiyang forgot all about his noodles and sat up straight. “Aunties, please don’t misunderstand. I actually wanted to tell you a long time ago, but… I didn’t dare.”
“Getting into college is a happy occasion—what’s there to be afraid of?”
Xia Yiyang scratched his head: “I know it’s good news too. But we’ve spent so much time together and grown close. Just thinking about leaving you all made me too sad—and I was even more afraid you’d be sad. So I kept putting it off, and the more I put it off, the more I hesitated. The more I hesitated, the more I put it off. And then I just couldn’t bring myself to say it.”
The two aunties felt a pang of emotion: “You silly kid, always overthinking things! You’re someone with a bright future ahead of you. As long as you remember us, and come visit us and the boss next time you’re in Rongcheng, that’s more than enough.”
Xia Yiyang: “?”
He instinctively looked at Sheng Lin.
Sheng Lin raised an eyebrow at him and spoke slowly: “I only told them you got into college—I didn’t tell them which one. That’s your good news, so of course you should announce it yourself.”
How could Xia Yiyang not understand?
He immediately announced: “Aunties, even though I got into college, we’ll still see each other often. My school is right across from our shop!”
“That’s right—I got into Rongda!”
This news truly thrilled the two aunties. In the hearts of Sichuan people, Rongda’s reputation was extremely high. Knowing that Xia Yiyang had chosen to stay in Rongcheng and attend Rongda filled them with pride.
Auntie Li slapped her head: “Oh my, so Xiao Xia got into Rongda! Then our red envelopes are too meager—we can’t possibly give them now.”
Xia Yiyang’s eyes lit up: “I get red envelopes too?”
Auntie Zhao pulled a small red envelope from her pocket: “Didn’t we tell you? In Sichuan, when someone gets into college, we hold a celebratory banquet—and at the banquet, the kid always gets red envelopes.”
Xia Yiyang felt embarrassed: “But I didn’t have a banquet.”
Just then, Sheng Lin tapped his bowl: “This counts.”
The aunties followed suit: “That’s right! This counts!”
As they spoke, the two aunties tucked the small red envelopes into Xia Yiyang’s pants pocket.
The amounts inside weren’t large—just for good luck, even less than what the young master used to get for a single day’s allowance. But Xia Yiyang was still overjoyed. Beijing didn’t have the tradition of celebratory banquets, but that didn’t matter—he’d felt genuine blessings in this tiny kitchen.
He put away the envelopes and turned his gaze back to Sheng Lin, holding out his palm with a sly smile: “Brother Lin, where’s your red envelope?”
The aunties fanned the flames: “That’s right—you’re the boss. You can’t escape this!”
To their surprise, Sheng Lin remained perfectly composed and actually pulled something out of his pocket.
“I didn’t prepare a red envelope, but I did prepare a little gift for you.” Sheng Lin reached his hand out to Xia Yiyang and let his fingers relax—a small metal object dropped into the boy’s palm.
Unexpectedly, it was a—fortune cookie.
It was tiny, weighty, and its surface had been polished smooth, gleaming with a metallic sheen.
It had been cut into a rounded pouch shape, tightly sealed at the opening, with a leather cord threaded through the top.
Xia Yiyang held it in his hands, surprised and delighted.
“Brother Lin, this…”
“I was going to make you some edible ‘fortune cookies’ with ingredients from the kitchen. But food disappears once eaten—metal lasts longer. It can stay with you.”
Sheng Lin motioned for Xia Yiyang to lower his head, then hung the delicate little necklace around his chest and tied a knot at the back of his neck.
The cool metal pendant came to rest perfectly at the center of the boy’s collarbone, quickly warmed by his body heat.
Xia Yiyang’s fingers toyed with the metal cookie. He couldn’t imagine how Sheng Lin had stayed up all night to make this, just to make up for a passing complaint.
“Brother Lin,” the teenager said solemnly, “thank you for this gift. I’ll take good care of it.”
Sheng Lin shook his head: “It’s me who should thank you.”
“…?”
“Xia Yiyi, thank you for staying by my side.”
Leave a Reply