Liang Ruixi slept until ten in the morning and woke up to find Zhou Yan gone.
On his phone, there was a message from Zhou Yan: “There’s congee warming in the rice cooker. Eat some when you get up. Something came up, so I went to the law firm. I’ll be back before lunch.” The message was sent at 8 AM.
Liang Ruixi asked him, “Why are you even working overtime on a weekend?”
Zhou Yan replied quickly, “I had some unfinished work. The law firm is close, and I saw you were still sleeping soundly when I woke up, so I just popped over.”
Liang Ruixi replied with an “oh,” put his phone down, buried his face back into the pillow, and lay in bed for a while longer before getting up to wash.
The bathroom mirror showed two tufts of hair sticking up from sleep. He patted them down, habitually reaching for hair gel, but then looked down and remembered that Zhou Yan didn’t use such fancy things. He could only wet his hair and smooth it down a bit.
There was indeed congee in the rice cooker, with some shredded radish in it. Liang Ruixi served himself a bowl and took a bite… huh? Spicy!
He beamed, “whooshing” down most of the bowl in the kitchen, and let out a satisfied burp. He felt even more strongly that Zhou Yan was thoughtful and meticulous.
Living with someone like this must be very happy, right?
Ai, what a pity that girl Xiao Zhi was truly blind…
Liang Ruixi rubbed his belly and sat on the sofa. He noticed a square rattan box nearby. Opening it, he found it filled with snacks and some common stomach medicines. He didn’t recall seeing it last time.
Liang Ruixi remembered that Zhou Yan also used to keep various snacks in the dorm during university, such as chocolate, boxed milk, and potato chips, and he’d specifically buy the good, expensive ones as well. But Zhou Yan himself never ate them; he mostly shared them with his roommates. He was a bit surprised: why did Zhou Yan still have this habit now that he lived alone?
He casually grabbed a bag of potato chips, tore it open, and settled onto the sofa to eat while playing games.
Around noon, Zhou Yan returned and walked closer to him. “What are you playing?”
“Honor of Kings,” Liang Ruixi was playing Zhao Yun, currently leading his teammates to push the high ground. His four fingers moved in unison, completely focused. Soon, the enemy crystal shattered, and the huge word “VICTORY” popped up on the screen. Liang Ruixi showed off to Zhou Yan, “MVP! Am I cool or not!”
Zhou Yan glanced at him. If it weren’t for the two tufts of hair on his head that even water couldn’t flatten, he might indeed have looked quite cool.
“This game looks a lot like the games you used to play. Are they all on mobile now?” Zhou Yan asked.
“It’s a bit different. The one in university was LOL, but the gameplay is similar.” Liang Ruixi had pulled Zhou Yan into playing a few times in university, but it seemed Zhou Yan wasn’t particularly interested in games.
Liang Ruixi stood up, stretched his arms, and asked, “What’s for lunch? My treat.”
Zhou Yan said, “There are quite a few restaurants downstairs at Shiyang Plaza and near Linshan Park Mall. Want to check them out?”
Liang Ruixi: “Alright.”
The two changed their shoes and headed out, walking to Shiyang Plaza.
On the first floor of the mall, there were several common chain restaurants. As they walked, Zhou Yan introduced him to the area, “The ground and first basement floors are commercial areas, and the upper floors are office buildings. The law firm where I work is on the twelfth floor of Building A.”
“That’s so convenient! There are foods and drinks, and it doesn’t even take ten minutes to get to work. No wonder you always run to the law firm…” As Liang Ruixi spoke, he suddenly spotted a Mala Xiang Guo[mfn]Spicy stir-fry pot[/mfn] restaurant nearby and exclaimed happily, “Hey? There’s Mala Xiang Guo! Let’s eat that!”
Zhou Yan paused, not responding. Liang Ruixi tilted his head to look at him. “What’s wrong?”
Zhou Yan seemed a bit hesitant. “Didn’t you just go to the hospital for gastroenteritis last week? Can you handle spicy food?”
“That was ages ago! After a week of stomach medicine, I’m completely healed!” Liang Ruixi tugged on Zhou Yan’s arm. “Come on, let’s go!”
Zhou Yan pursed his lips as Liang Ruixi forcefully pulled him into the restaurant.
After they sat down, Liang Ruixi opened the menu to pick: “How about a medium set? Seems like enough for two…”
Zhou Yan: “Can they make it non-spicy?”
Liang Ruixi was surprised: “How can you eat Mala Xiang Guo without chili? He thought Zhou Yan was still worried about his stomach, so he advised, “Ai, it’s really fine. We Changshui people eat spicy food like it’s a regular meal…” Then he remembered and teased Zhou Yan, “Or has your spice tolerance regressed since we last met?”
Zhou Yan looked up at this, and a hint of pain seemed to flash in his eyes, making Liang Ruixi startle, his smile freezing on his face.
Indeed, Zhou Yan, being a native of Nanshi, couldn’t eat spicy food at all before.
Right after they enrolled, Liang Ruixi saw he was feeling down and said he knew a way to cheer Zhou Yan up. So, he dragged him to “Xiangshuai Xiang Guo” by the south gate of the campus.
Liang Ruixi even thoughtfully ordered a medium-spicy one, encouraging him by saying he’d get used to it. But this medium spice was the absolute limit for Zhou Yan, who never ate spicy food. He gasped for air after one bite, crying “tears like a spring.”
Liang Ruixi even laughed at him, saying he couldn’t handle it, that he was teary-eyed from just a little spice, like a rabbit.
Zhou Yan had never been told he “couldn’t” do something since childhood, and then being described as a “rabbit” by Liang Ruixi, he was so angry he almost turned on him right there.
But after Liang Ruixi finished laughing, he busied himself by handing Zhou Yan an iced soda and eagerly asked the waitress if there was any ice, telling Zhou Yan to chew on it directly to cool his tongue.
Even though he was laughing, his eyes sparkled with joy, and his concern was genuine.
After just two bites, Zhou Yan had already sworn to himself that he would never eat it again. Yet, under Liang Ruixi’s encouragement and the torment of that scorching, freezing sensation, he silently shed tears but actually finished the meal.
Afterward, Liang Ruixi asked him, full of expectation, how it was. Zhou Yan, in a huff, said, “It was horribly bland.”
Liang Ruixi’s previously bright eyes instantly dimmed. He looked a bit lost, perhaps a little hurt, and softened his voice, saying, “Then how about we try something else next time?”
That look of disappointment made Zhou Yan feel sorry for him, as if he had hurt the heart of a sincere young man.
So later, when Liang Ruixi broke up with his first girlfriend, Zhou Yan also proactively asked, “Do you want me to go to that Xiangshuai Xiang Guo place for a meal with you?”
Through these repeated interactions, Zhou Yan gradually transformed from someone who couldn’t eat any spice at all into the person he was now.
As he recalled, the last time he cried because of eating spicy food was two years ago, after that meeting with Liang Ruixi ended. One day, he remembered and went back to the Xiangshuai Xiang Guo by the south gate of the campus. The taste was the same, but he ate it with tear-filled eyes and incessant sobs.
But Zhou Yan knew that this time, it wasn’t due to a physiological reason.
Liang Ruixi was made uneasy by Zhou Yan’s gaze, and he backed down: “Then I’ll order a non-spicy one? We can just eat it like regular stir-fry. That pot is constantly used for spicy food, so I think the dishes cooked in it should naturally have some aroma…”
“Wouldn’t mild spice taste bland to you?” Zhou Yan sighed and conceded, “Forget it, just order the medium-spicy one.”
Liang Ruixi scrutinized him for another two seconds, confirming that Zhou Yan wasn’t forcing himself, then scanned the QR code to place the order.
When the pot arrived, Liang Ruixi took a bite and immediately beamed, “The taste is good!”
Zhou Yan picked up a piece of broccoli and ate it very gracefully; he didn’t seem to be unable to stand the taste, but his brow was always slightly furrowed, as if something was on his mind.
“Do you have any plans this afternoon?” Liang Ruixi tried to make conversation.
“There is some unfinished work, but I can take it home,” Zhou Yan asked him. “What about you? Any plans?”
“Nothing else really,” Liang Ruixi thought for a moment, then said, “I’ll keep you company.”
“Accompany me?” Zhou Yan asked, surprised.
He said it unintentionally, but being questioned by Zhou Yan made it sound a bit ambiguous again.
Liang Ruixi hummed, “Cherish it, it’s only because today is the weekend. Do you think I’d still cling to you every day like in university?”
After he finished speaking, he immediately lowered his head to drink his beverage, trying to hide his inner turmoil. A few seconds later, he heard Zhou Yan slowly say, “It’s not impossible either.”
Liang Ruixi: “……”
After the meal, Zhou Yan said he was going up to get his laptop.
Liang Ruixi noticed a bubble tea shop downstairs and said he’d buy two drinks and wait for him there.
As soon as Zhou Yan left, Liang Ruixi rubbed his face and took two deep breaths, reminding himself to maintain proper boundaries.
After buying the bubble tea, Liang Ruixi received a call from Zhou Yan, who said a client had unexpectedly arrived at the law firm and might cause a slight delay. He asked if Liang Ruixi wanted to come up to his office and wait.
Liang Ruixi declined, “No, I’ll just go to your place and wait for you.”
Anyway, he had the key.
He carried the bubble tea back to Zhou Yan’s place and sat on the sofa, bored, not knowing what to do.
Bars only opened in the evening. On weekend days, Liang Ruixi usually stayed home, practiced singing, played games, or went shopping and watched movies with his girlfriend.
The company he worked for operated from nine to six, with rare overtime. When he first started working, he’d occasionally review books for the judicial exam he was thinking about, but after giving up on the exam, he hadn’t really looked at them again. He used to think all jobs were like this, but now, seeing Zhou Yan busy at the law firm even on a weekend, striving for his career, while he himself was idle, he couldn’t help but feel a bit empty.
On the coffee table was the latest edition of Criminal Trial Reference. Liang Ruixi casually picked it up and flipped through it.
Familiar words leaped from the pages, but the information was blocked from entering his mind, as if an invisible barrier stood between his brain’s information reception system and processor. Liang Ruixi irritably put the book down and picked up his phone to reopen his game.
After a few rounds, his earlier enthusiasm waned. Seeing that Zhou Yan still wasn’t back, Liang Ruixi couldn’t resist the urge to go check out his law firm.
Liang Ruixi tidied up, preparing to head out. While putting on his shoes, he accidentally knocked over the shoehorn. He picked it up and hung it back. Knowing Zhou Yan liked things neat, he also picked up a slipper, intending to put it in the shoe cabinet. Unexpectedly, when he pulled open the cabinet door, he saw a pair of rabbit-head slippers inside.
Liang Ruixi froze for a moment, then took them out to look.
Huh, aren’t these the plush slippers I gave Zhou Yan back in freshman year?
That winter, when he was constantly freeloading off Zhou Yan’s bed — they were both healthy eighteen or nineteen-year-old youths, and the dorm beds were already too small, yet Liang Ruixi insisted on squeezing in with Zhou Yan. All night, they’d have to lie on their sides, either he was hugging Zhou Yan or Zhou Yan was pressing against him. Liang Ruixi was warm and comfortable, but Zhou Yan’s sleep quality definitely suffered; he’d wake up with a grim face every day. Liang Ruixi knew Zhou Yan was accommodating him. After several nights of free “human warmth,” he considered getting Zhou Yan a gift to compensate him, even hinting early on that he had a surprise.
He spent thirty-some yuan online and picked out a pair of plush slippers. It took six days for the package to arrive.
That night, after eating in the cafeteria, Zhou Yan said he had to go to the student union to submit an activity proposal. Liang Ruixi went alone to the off-campus express station to pick up the package. When he got back to the dorm and opened it, he was dumbfounded.
His roommate saw it and teased him, saying, “Liang Ruixi! Why did you buy a pair of rabbit-head slippers?”
Liang Ruixi explained, “I bought these for Zhou Yan…”
The air solidified for a moment, and the person laughed even louder: “Come look! Liang Ruixi bought Zhou Yan a pair of rabbit-head slippers!”
Liang Ruixi was also bewildered: “I clearly picked tigers; why did they send me two rabbits?”
But the slippers were clearly a men’s size, gray with a hint of pink, and the rabbit ears on the toe were especially lively, looking like two fluffy, pinkish-gray rabbits. Liang Ruixi quickly took out his phone to check the order and realized it wasn’t the seller’s mistake; he had indeed ordered the wrong ones. He hadn’t looked closely after placing the order, and they were shipped just like that.
His roommate’s shouts attracted many onlookers. Rooms 325 and 326 were across from each other, so Wei Ran and his friends also came over when they heard the commotion: “Awesome, Liang Ruixi, you actually dared to buy these for Zhou Yan to wear?”
“Rabbit slippers? Aren’t these for girls, hahaha…”
“You’re too wicked, Campus Heartthrob. Zhou Yan will probably want to beat you to death when he sees them!”
Liang Ruixi shooed them away: “Alright, alright, stop messing around, I’m going to return them!”
Just as he was about to pack the slippers back up, Zhou Yan returned. The boys immediately started to egg him on: “Zhou Yan! Liang Ruixi bought you a pair of rabbit slippers!”
“Super cute, come try them on, haha…”
Zhou Yan was pushed into the center by the group, staring at the gray rabbit slippers on the floor. He asked Liang Ruixi with a strange expression, “This is the gift you secretly spent a week preparing for me?”
Liang Ruixi quickly hugged the rabbits to his chest: “No, no, I bought the wrong ones!”
“But they’re pretty good!” The others laughed.
“Exactly, just go with the flow!”
“Don’t waste Campus Heartthrob’s good intentions, class monitor!”
Amidst the jeers, Zhou Yan, like a duck being herded, had no choice but to take off his shoes and put his feet into the two gray rabbits in front of everyone.
Everyone burst into laughter again, and some classmates even took out their phones to photograph Zhou Yan’s feet.
It was also because Zhou Yan was usually too serious. He had the highest entrance exam score among the freshmen, was publicly praised during military training, and when the counselor nominated him for class monitor, the entire class voted unanimously. In less than half a year, he joined the student union’s secretariat and maintained close ties with student leaders from all grades…
After half a year of getting to know him, everyone was familiar with him, but few dared to joke with Zhou Yan privately. Now that they had such an opportunity, they naturally had to seize it to try and get closer to him.
Liang Ruixi squatted on the ground, looking closely at the rabbit ears on Zhou Yan’s feet, and couldn’t help but let out a “pfft” of laughter — these slippers simply didn’t match Zhou Yan’s demeanor, yet, on his feet, they were somehow a little cute.
“You’re still laughing!” Zhou Yan reprimanded him in a low voice.
Liang Ruixi quickly straightened his face, not daring to look at Zhou Yan’s expression anymore.
After everyone had laughed, messed around, and dispersed, Liang Ruixi finally apologized to him: “I really bought the wrong ones. I originally wanted to buy you tiger ones. If you don’t want to wear them, just give them back to me. I’ll return them and buy you a new pair.”
“You could even buy these wrong? You idiot.” Zhou Yan still seemed a bit annoyed, but after scolding him, he helplessly said, “Forget it, just leave them.”
Liang Ruixi originally thought Zhou Yan would just stuff the slippers into the closet and never look at them again. Unexpectedly, Zhou Yan wore them every day when he returned to the dorm, walking around with a calm expression. At first, everyone joked about it, but eventually, they got used to seeing them.
The following spring, Zhou Yan aired out the slippers and put them away, only to take them out again in the winter of sophomore year. By then, he was already the vice president of the student union. There were a few times when he had to organize student activities, and he would wear those rabbit head slippers to go downstairs at night to brief the freshman staff members on tasks, scaring the juniors into silence.
Zhou Yan somehow earned the nickname “Rabbit Head President” in the student union. Afterward, any new students who joined and saw Zhou Yan would be puzzled: “His hair is clearly thick; why do they call him ‘Bald Head President’[mfn]They sound the same[/mfn]?”
Liang Ruixi only found out later that the day he gave Zhou Yan the slippers was Zhou Yan’s birthday. So, naturally, Zhou Yan treated the slippers as his birthday gift. In the spring of their junior year, Zhou Yan even took them out and washed them once. Upon seeing this, Liang Ruixi couldn’t help but exclaim how well those thirty-some yuan had been spent.
However, seven years later, seeing those same slippers in Zhou Yan’s shoe cabinet again filled Liang Ruixi with mixed emotions. After years of wear, washing, and sun exposure, the two rabbits were already bald and peeling, their color a dull gray. Why was Zhou Yan still keeping them?
Damn it… are they even wearable anymore?!
The author has something to say:
[Little Interlude]
Liang Ruixi: I really bought the wrong ones; I originally wanted to buy you tiger-head slippers…
Zhou Yan: Do you think I’d have been happy if I’d received tiger-head slippers?
