“Living room, dining room, kitchen—basically, I’ve barely used them.” Lu Nanyang casually tossed his bag on the couch and pointed out the directions to Xie Quan. “My bedroom’s on the south side, yours is the north one. The bathroom’s on the right, and the shower—”
Xie Quan interrupted, “Have you ever slept in the north bedroom?”
Lu Nanyang paused. “Maybe once or twice, not much.”
“Then the sheets, duvet cover, and pillowcases all need to be changed, and the desk, chair, and bed frame need to be disinfected,” Xie Quan said as he pulled his suitcase toward the north room. “But don’t worry, I’ll handle it myself.”
A wave of anger surged up in Lu Nanyang’s chest. “You—”
But all he got in return was the slam of a door closing and the sounds of disinfectant spray being used.
By the next day, Lu Nanyang already regretted inviting Xie Quan to move in.
The entire night, there hadn’t been a moment of peace from the north bedroom. Every piece of furniture had been sprayed down. The bed sheets, covers—even the cushion covers—were stripped and thrown into the washing machine. By the time Lu Nanyang looked in again, the room no longer looked anything like it had before.
The ornaments on the desk had been packed into a bag by Xie Quan. The tablecloth and cushions were all replaced with new ones, even the curtains had been yanked down and swapped for blackout ones.
The room’s style instantly shifted from bright and youthful to gloomy and sterile. With the overwhelming smell of disinfectant, the whole place now radiated serious funeral parlor energy.
“Come on, fine, replace the bedding, but the curtains too?” Lu Nanyang pointed at the window in disbelief. “Dude, this room doesn’t even get much sun!”
“Did I pay rent or not?” Xie Quan crossed his arms and looked at him.
“…You did.”
“Then why are you interfering?” Xie Quan said with a bright smile.
And that wasn’t even the worst of it. Xie Quan’s living habits could drive anyone crazy.
He disinfected the toilet seat thoroughly before using it, disinfected the sink before washing his hands, disinfected the dishes before eating…
Okay, fine. Lu Nanyang could tolerate that. He respected people’s lifestyle choices—especially since he was the one who invited Xie Quan. If it weren’t for the house fire, the guy wouldn’t even have needed to move in.
But what he couldn’t tolerate was being woken up at 1 AM by Xie Quan bursting into his room, ordering him in a bossy tone that from now on, he must sit down to pee.
“Are you out of your damn mind?!” Lu Nanyang threw a pillow at him.
“Am I crazy, or you?” Xie Quan snapped, frowning. “Do you know how much urine splashes out when you pee standing up?”
“Bullshit!” Lu Nanyang shouted, “I’ve got great aim, okay?!”
Besides, ever since Xie Quan moved in, he had been especially mindful of toilet hygiene.
“Come here.” Xie Quan grabbed his arm, dragged him out of bed to the bathroom, pointed at the toilet. “You’ve got great aim, huh? Go ahead, pee. I’ll watch.”
Lu Nanyang flung off his hand. “Are you insane?”
Suddenly, Xie Quan snapped off the lights, then pulled out a UV flashlight and shone it around the toilet, smirking coldly. “See that?”
Lu Nanyang stared in disbelief.
Who the hell uses a UV light in their own home?!
“No matter how accurate you think you are, if you pee standing up, microscopic urine droplets will splash. Look—here, here, even on the tiles. All over. How am I supposed to use the bathroom like this?”
“And you didn’t think about my habits at all?” Lu Nanyang glared at him. “If I sit down, I’ll bump into the front of the toilet. Isn’t that disgusting?”
“That’s your sitting posture problem. Has nothing to do with me,” Xie Quan replied coldly.
Lu Nanyang let out a bitter laugh. “Fine. Want me to move out so you can have the place to yourself?”
To his surprise, Xie Quan crossed his arms and said without hesitation, “That would be even better.”
Furious, Lu Nanyang slammed the door and moved back into his dorm that very night.
At least his dormmates—even the most annoying one, Wen Fei—weren’t half as irritating as Xie Quan.
But since he was the one who invited Xie Quan to move in, he couldn’t bring himself to kick him out. So he just stayed in the dorm most of the time, only coming back on weekends or when he needed his computer.
If he couldn’t fight it, he’d just avoid it.
….
Whether it was classes or shifts at the infirmary, Xie Quan kept his schedule packed. He left early every morning. Lu Nanyang, on the other hand, only went back during his free time. Most of the time, by the time he walked through the door, the light in Xie Quan’s room was already off, and by the time he woke up the next morning, Xie Quan was long gone.
So, for two weeks straight, the two of them more or less managed to coexist peacefully.
But another person living in the house inevitably left some hard-to-ignore traces.
For instance, sometimes when Lu Nanyang woke up in the morning, he’d find a bowl of noodles sitting on the dining table with a note left by Xie Quan: Made too much. Eat if you want, or just throw it out.
Xie Quan’s handwriting was clean and neat, completely different from the wild scribbles typical on medical prescriptions.
So, he could write legibly. Or was it that doctors had a secret code only their peers could understand when it came to prescriptions?
Lu Nanyang was genuinely touched and canceled his food delivery on the spot, picking up the bowl of noodles. But after the first bite, he felt he should have just thrown it out—his mouth and throat were burning.
Another time, Lu Nanyang had the sudden urge to cook for himself, only to open the fridge and be greeted by a chaotic mess of mangled raw pork. The cuts had been sliced open with disturbing precision and then carefully stitched back up with thread. With that many pieces, it looked more like a mad surgeon’s horror lab than a kitchen.
Or like the night he came home, flipped on the lights, and found the floor covered in messy books and documents—draft papers or maybe prescription notes scattered like snowflakes, barely any space to step.
A cup had been shattered on the dining table, ceramic shards scattered everywhere. Lu Nanyang frowned and swept them into a dustpan. Just as he was about to toss them in the trash, he noticed an empty diazepam bottle inside.
The light in Xie Quan’s room was off, but the bathroom light was still on. Lu Nanyang stepped inside and, unsurprisingly, picked up a faint acidic smell in the air.
Standing outside Xie Quan’s door, Lu Nanyang could vaguely hear the sound of tossing and turning, and coughing from inside. He hesitated but didn’t knock. Instead, the next morning, he sent a message.
Xiang Nanyang: Did you throw up again last night?
Xie Quan took a while before replying.
Drowning: …Why do you care so much?
Xiang Nanyang: If your stomach’s bad, stop eating so much spicy food.
Xiang Nanyang: And medicine irritates the stomach too. Healing takes more than medicine—it needs good care. If you end up only able to eat liquid food, what will you gain from this?
About twenty minutes later, Xie Quan slowly replied.
Drowning: Haven’t you opened the fridge these past few days?
Xiang Nanyang: ? I have.
Drowning: What’s in it?
Xiang Nanyang: Cucumber, lettuce… and your stack of horror movie-prop stitched pork.
Drowning: Any chili?
Xiang Nanyang: …
Xiang Nanyang: No.
Drowning: I haven’t eaten anything spicy for days. If you didn’t notice that, you must be blind.
Lu Nanyang stared at the screen speechlessly. Xie Quan always had a way of turning perfectly decent words into sharp, cutting remarks.
…..
The weather that day was great. The sky was a brilliant blue, with big fluffy clouds drifting lazily by, occasionally blocking out the harsh sun.
Just as they stepped out of the dorm, the school’s loudspeaker cheerfully announced: “Congratulations to Xie Quan from our medical school for winning first prize in the city’s clinical skills competition, bringing honor to our school…”
“Xie Quan? That name sounds kinda familiar.” Jia Rong looked at Wen Fei. “Isn’t he the handsome guy you brought to Da Ze’s birthday party?”
“Hm?” Wen Fei took out one earbud, lazily asked, “Which one? The cop? The programmer? Or the tattoo artist?”
“…” Jia Rong stared at him. “You collecting guys from every walk of life or what?”
“The doctor who played a duke at Da Ze’s birthday,” Lu Nanyang added casually.
“Oh, him.” Jia Rong grinned and bumped Lu Nanyang with his shoulder. “That your boyfriend?”
Lu Nanyang nearly choked on his own spit. “What?!”
“There’s been a whole gossip thread going around the school forum,” Jia Rong said. “Something about the young master Lu keeping the campus heartthrob from the med school. Some dramatic public display of affection in the library…”
“You’ll believe any dumb rumor, huh?” Wen Fei took out his other earbud with a sneer. “Forget that Lu-ge is straight as a steel beam. Just from the way he used to treat Xie Quan… if those two ever got together, I’d eat sh*t on the spot.”
“…” Lu Nanyang was silent for a while. “You don’t have to be that extreme…”
If Wen Fei ever found out Xie Quan was living with him now, who knew what kind of face he’d make.
Better he never find out.
“What’s this clinical skills competition anyway? Is it a big deal?” Da Ze asked. “They’ve been announcing it all morning.”
“It’s a city-level competition with a first-place prize—of course it’s a big deal,” Jia Rong replied. “My cousin told me usually people prep for months in advance, but that Xie guy apparently just walked in and took first place without training.”
“Damn,” Da Ze said in awe. “That’s the difference between geniuses and scrubs, huh.”
Lu Nanyang didn’t say anything, but it was like a switch clicked in his head. He finally understood all the stitched-up pork in the fridge and the books strewn across the floor late at night.
To outsiders, the word “genius” could explain everything effortlessly. But Lu Nanyang knew—even if true geniuses existed, they didn’t get everything handed to them while lying in bed with their mouths open.
Xie Quan was good at hiding his vulnerability, his messiness, and his hard work. Whenever he appeared in public, he always looked calm and composed, as if he could handle everything with a blink of an eye.
People liked to believe in genius, in God’s chosen, in the perfect boyfriend. As if having such a person in the world—even if it wasn’t them—could prove that the world wasn’t all cruel and unreasonable, that perfect happiness still existed somewhere.
But from the very beginning, Lu Nanyang never believed in any of that. That’s why he could see through Xie Quan’s mask at a glance. He also knew exactly what kind of terrifying sacrifice it took to maintain that mask.
Wen Fei and Da Ze were still chatting idly, while Lu Nanyang walked behind them with his head down, taking out his phone to message Xie Quan.
He felt like he should say something, but after typing a bunch of words, he ended up deleting them one by one.
In the end, he only sent a simple message.
Xiang Nanyang: Are you coming home tonight?
Xie Quan replied pretty quickly.
Drowning: ?
Drowning: What, you think I’m gonna sleep on the street?
Lu Nanyang ignored his sharp tongue.
Xiang Nanyang: Okay, I’ll come home too.
