Xie Quan’s home was right next to the market, less than a five-minute walk away.
On the way, Lu Nanyang saw at least four or five middle-aged women greet Xie Quan with a smile, and he responded enthusiastically, seeming to know everything about their families.
“Aunt Zhang, just came back from tea?”
“Aunt Li, is Xiao Ya feeling better?”
“Mrs. Fang, I heard your husband got promoted? Congratulations!”
Lu Nanyang remembered posts he’d seen on the school forum—every one of them mentioned how detail-oriented Dr. Xie was. He could remember trivial things about patients that even they forgot, even months later.
It really was a likeability boost. But at the same time, Lu Nanyang couldn’t imagine the amount of energy Xie Quan had to spend on this.
People only had so much energy. To spend it all on pleasing others—Lu Nanyang didn’t get it.
They stopped in front of an older building. Xie Quan pulled out his keys and opened the building’s main door. “Old neighborhood, no elevator—gotta climb.”
Lu Nanyang followed behind, holding the creaky metal door so it wouldn’t swing into his face. “What floor?”
“Sixth,” Xie Quan answered without looking back.
“…Great,” Lu Nanyang muttered, closing the door and resigning himself to the climb.
Xie Quan’s apartment was different from what Lu Nanyang imagined. It was a small, narrow old-style layout, with cracked and peeling walls and faded paintings whose original colors could barely be seen.
But it was extremely tidy. Everything was organized to an almost obsessive degree—like a paradise for neat freaks.
Xie Quan opened the shoe cabinet, changed into slippers, and sprayed his hands with a small bottle. “There are disposable slippers on the left. Bathroom’s at the end of the hallway, right side.”
“What’s that?” Lu Nanyang asked, eyeing the bottle in Xie Quan’s hand.
“Alcohol,” Xie Quan said, putting the bottle back. “After studying medicine, everything feels dirty.”
He changed his shoes and headed straight to the kitchen. Judging by the water sounds, he was washing the fish.
Lu Nanyang slowly put on the disposable slippers and mimicked him, spraying alcohol on his hands. The sharp scent spread through the air—it was the same as Xie Quan’s office.
Cold, jarring, and aggressive—not the kind of smell that fit in a cozy old home. But on Xie Quan, it made perfect sense.
Lu Nanyang suddenly felt curious about what kind of parents could raise a kid like Xie Quan.
He walked into the tiny kitchen with the groceries. It was small enough that two people would have to carefully navigate just to move around. “Want help?”
Xie Quan, sleeves rolled up, was cleaning off the remaining fish scales and innards. His movements were efficient and practiced. The way his long fingers moved back and forth across the fish’s body made Lu Nanyang wonder if he handled human flesh on the operating table the same way.
“You know how to cook, young master?” Xie Quan raised an eyebrow at him teasingly.
“Not really, I—” Lu Nanyang paused, suddenly realizing something felt off. He frowned. “You’ve been investigating me?”
Xie Quan chuckled. “Listen to yourself. How could I possibly have that kind of ability?”
He turned off the water, lifted the fish to drain the excess, then placed it on the cutting board. “Besides, things like that don’t need any investigation. You’re more famous than you think, Young Master Lu.”
Lu Nanyang was the type of person whose emotions were written all over his face. Xie Quan could tell exactly what he wanted to say just by his hesitating expression.
“But that night at the bar, I really didn’t know who you were. I wasn’t trying to use you to climb any social ladder,” Xie Quan said. “I just saw someone I liked the look of and decided to give it a shot, that’s all.”
“Well, your way of giving it a shot was certainly… unique,” Lu Nanyang said coldly.
Xie Quan smiled and pulled a small knife from the knife rack. The kitchen, like the living room, was spotless. The knife gleamed like new, catching the light the moment he picked it up—its blade was so polished you could almost see your reflection in it.
He simply lowered his head, pinned down the dead fish that was still twitching slightly, scored each side with a decorative cut, and stuffed some scallions, ginger, and seasoning inside.
“Lu Nanyang, I was in the wrong that night. And besides, nothing even happened, right?” Xie Quan softened his voice, speaking gently. “I didn’t get what I wanted, and I got punched for it too. So, if anything, we’re even now. Why not just let it go?”
That pleading tone made Lu Nanyang uncomfortable. He clicked his tongue, “You think that’s why I hit you?”
“No, you were worried your good friend might end up on my sinking ship,” Xie Quan said with a cheerful smile. “You’re so considerate of your friend, but he didn’t even appreciate your good intentions and ended up throwing a tantrum at you on the spot. If you ask me, a friend like that—”
“Shut up,” Lu Nanyang warned.
Xie Quan shrugged, then zipped his lips with a finger gesture to show he’d stop talking.
Lu Nanyang watched Xie Quan for a moment and figured he didn’t really need help, not with how skilled he was. Plus, the kitchen was way too small—if he went in, they’d practically be back-to-back. He gave up on the idea.
“If you’re bored, just watch some TV. The remote’s on the small round table. Dinner won’t take long,” Xie Quan said. “Anything you can’t eat?”
Lu Nanyang was about to say “no” but hesitated and changed his answer: “Spicy and greasy stuff.”
Xie Quan smiled at him.
“I’m following doctor’s orders,” Lu Nanyang said.
“Good boy,” Xie Quan said with a grin.
Lu Nanyang ignored him and shut the kitchen’s sliding door.
He didn’t really want to sit in someone else’s house and just watch TV like it was no big deal, so he leaned against the wall and stared absentmindedly at the decor.
The whole situation felt bizarre beyond words. He hadn’t been over to a friend’s house since high school—and Xie Quan wasn’t even a friend. Not even a casual hookup.
Lu Nanyang had always thought that inviting someone to your home was a very personal gesture. The state of someone’s house often revealed their most private, most hidden self.
All he wanted was a chance to ask Xie Quan about the police report. He hadn’t expected to get invited over for dinner.
Were they really that close?
Half a hookup, three fights, and two injuries shared between them.
Or maybe Xie Quan just didn’t care. Maybe he brought anyone home. Maybe his parents were rarely around?
The thought made Lu Nanyang frown in disgust. He didn’t even want to sit on the couch.
He leaned against the wall and played on his phone for a bit. Soon, his neck started to ache. He glanced sideways at the kitchen—the sliding door was still closed, and the range hood inside was roaring away. Xie Quan probably wouldn’t notice him for a while.
Lu Nanyang put away his phone and peeked into the hallway.
The apartment was small, and the hallway was so narrow only one person could pass through at a time. Besides the bathroom, there were just two rooms—one was locked, and the other door was slightly open.
He approached the half-open door and gently pushed it. Just one glance from outside the room, and he knew—it was Xie Quan’s bedroom.
The room was tiny, containing only a desk, a single bed, and a bookshelf. The bedding was neatly folded. The desk, bookshelf, and even the floor were stacked with books—all kinds of books.
Lu Nanyang stepped in for a closer look. Every single book was a medical textbook or study material. Not even a single novel in sight. Though there were a lot of books, the room wasn’t messy at all. Each book was neatly arranged in order, with worksheets and notes all categorized and placed at the end.
Lu Nanyang felt a bit emotional. He had thought studying law was already intense, but compared to med students, it was nothing.
The more he looked, the more he felt Xie Quan seemed almost inhuman.
With such a heavy academic load, he still found time and energy to maintain all those messy social relationships just to preserve some so-called reputation. Wasn’t it exhausting?
Just as he was about to leave, something in the trash can caught his eye—a small white medicine bottle, already empty.
Lu Nanyang squinted, trying to read the label. “Di… xi…”
Right then, a voice suddenly rang out behind him, catching him completely off guard. “What are you doing?”
Lu Nanyang jumped and nearly tripped over the stack of books on the floor. “Jesus, could you not sneak up like that?!”
Xie Quan was still wearing his apron, sleeves rolled up and slightly damp around the elbows. He stood there with arms crossed, looking at Lu Nanyang with calm amusement. “I called you twice. You didn’t hear. So? What is it in my room that’s so fascinating?”
“…” Lu Nanyang was silent for a while, then said, “Knowledge. The sea of knowledge swept me away.”
Xie Quan nodded. “Why don’t you fill your stomach with knowledge, then?”
Lu Nanyang coughed awkwardly. “Maybe next time.”
On the table, two dishes were served—one meat, one veggie. A mouthwatering bowl of spicy and sour fish, and a sad-looking plate of stir-fried cabbage with not even a drop of soy sauce.
Lu Nanyang: “…”
He picked up his chopsticks and asked tentatively, “This fish… spicy?”
“Mm, I like spicy food,” Xie Quan said as he ladled a spoonful of bright red, oily fish broth into his bowl.
“But I remember you said that with my wound infected, I shouldn’t eat spicy food, right?” Lu Nanyang asked.
“That’s right,” Xie Quan replied cheerfully, pushing the plate of stir-fried cabbage toward Lu Nanyang. “So this one’s yours. The fish? That’s just for me.”
“…” Lu Nanyang set his chopsticks down on the table. “Don’t you think this is a bit much?”
“Is it?” Xie Quan pointed at the fish with his chopsticks, then at the cabbage. “Who bought the fish? Me. Who bought the cabbage? You. Who doesn’t know how to cook? You. So I did it for you. What’s wrong with that?”
“By your logic, I should be paying you a service fee?” Lu Nanyang laughed angrily.
“Don’t be so polite. I’ll waive that part for you,” Xie Quan said with a grin.
“Oh, how generous. Thanks a lot,” Lu Nanyang said with a fake smile, getting up from the table. “Don’t trouble yourself. Both dishes are yours. Enjoy. I’m clearly not worthy.”
He heard Xie Quan sigh behind him, and the sound of chopsticks being set down.
“I can’t stand people like you—always beating around the bush instead of speaking directly. Isn’t it just that you want me to tell the police that in that alley that afternoon, you weren’t the one who struck first?”
Lu Nanyang froze and turned around.
At some point, Xie Quan had crossed one leg over the other, lounging with ease, looking at him calmly. “I’m actually pretty easy to talk to. I don’t mind making deals with people I’ve had issues with. As long as it’s an honest exchange—heart for heart—everyone gets what they want, right?”
Lu Nanyang understood what Xie Quan meant. He looked at the man in front of him in silence. “What do you want?”
Xie Quan smiled and stood up, walking toward Lu Nanyang.
