DCISBS chapter 30

Xie Quan couldn’t figure out what kind of game Lu Nanyang was playing.

He was exhausted that day, having to deal with teachers’ praise, classmates’ envious flattery, and piles of little gifts from girls sneaking them to him.

He’d already tossed the flowers and decorations on the way home, keeping only a teddy bear and a few boxes of chocolates.

He used to throw those away too, but today, thinking about a certain cohabitant who liked to pick up trash, he figured maybe he’d want them—so he brought them back on a whim.

As soon as he walked in, he heard the kitchen’s range hood humming. The sliding door was closed, and someone was bustling around inside.

…What kind of whim is this young master on today?

Xie Quan tossed the bear onto the couch, flung the chocolates onto the dining table without caring whether they shattered inside.

Probably hearing the noise, the kitchen door slid open a crack, and Lu Nanyang stuck his head out. “Back so early?”

Xie Quan pointed at the table, saying only one word, “Chocolate.”

Lu Nanyang came out of the kitchen and, acting all mysterious, closed the sliding door behind him. “Another gift from a girl?”

Xie Quan looked at him. “Nope. I bought it myself just to reward you.”

Lu Nanyang paused for two seconds before realizing this jerk was being sarcastic.

“You’re gonna die one day and it’ll be because…” Lu Nanyang started opening the box of chocolates.

“…Because you’re insufferable,” Xie Quan finished his sentence for him. “Just eat.”

Lu Nanyang took a crisp bite, tossing a piece into his mouth as he said,  “I heard you won first prize in the city’s medical skills competition. Congrats.”

Xie Quan folded his arms and gave him a look. “A weasel paying respects to a chicken.”

Lu Nanyang held up the chocolate. “Come on, I’m not even worried you poisoned me.”

Xie Quan laughed.

“Tonight, just sit and wait to be fed,” Lu Nanyang pointed at the couch. “Watch this young master show off his skills!”

Xie Quan feigned surprise. “You have skills?”

“Fuck off.” Lu Nanyang disappeared into the kitchen and shut the door.

Xie Quan smiled as he leaned against the couch, his head resting on the perfumed teddy bear.

Lu Nanyang’s apartment was a bit bigger than his old one, the one that burned down. The living room windows were wider, and there was even a bay window.

A few books sat on the bay window, pretending to look presentable—but they were either novels or comics, all worn out from being flipped through so much, the pages curled and unsightly. Next to them was an ugly clay vase, not holding flowers but two pinecones, probably picked up from who-knows-where.

Everything looked horrendously mismatched, yet together, they had a kind of unruly, lively charm.

He and Lu Nanyang really weren’t compatible.

If these things were in his room, he’d have thrown them out as trash in a heartbeat.

But maybe it was this very incompatibility that meant he didn’t have to put on a facade around Lu Nanyang. He could show his real self without reservation—forming a strange, subtle kind of connection.

Sometimes, Xie Quan found it interesting. He got curious. He wondered where this connection might go, and how it would eventually break.

The kitchen door slid open, and a strange mix of oily smoke and burnt smell drifted out.

The chef himself didn’t seem to notice, cheerfully carrying out a plate. “Dinner’s ready!”

Xie Quan walked over and saw on the table: a plate of stir-fried greens with scorched edges, a dish of red-braised eggplant so black it was unrecognizable, and rice that looked dry and over-steamed.

“Well?” Lu Nanyang held a spatula proudly.

Xie Quan clapped slowly a few times. “Not bad. At least the kitchen’s still intact.”

The young master didn’t even catch the sarcasm—his expression got even prouder. He pulled out a chair for Xie Quan and set the table like a gentleman. “Wait, there’s still the main dish.”

Xie Quan looked at him with exasperated amusement—like watching a happy little puppy.

A puppy whose joy was always so simple. And impossible to understand.

“Ta-da!” Lu Nanyang brought out the final dish and placed it in the center of the table.

Xie Quan’s eyes landed on the plate—and his smile froze on his lips. The color drained from his face, like an ice sculpture flash-frozen at sub-zero temperature.

Cilantro stir-fried beef.

“Well? I didn’t mess this one up, right?” Lu Nanyang happily tapped the plate. “I made it three times! Followed the recipe step-by-step. Look at how green the leaves are! And the beef—perfectly cooked, I even tasted it…”

“Who told you to make this?” Xie Quan cut him off, his voice trembling.

Lu Nanyang blinked, confused. “You mentioned your mom used to make this a lot, so I thought maybe I could try…”

“Who told you to make this!!” Xie Quan shouted, suddenly standing up.

“You—” Lu Nanyang was startled by his raised voice. Before he could finish speaking, there was a loud crash. The plate of beef—and the side dish—were swept off the table. Ceramics shattered all over the floor, and sauce splashed all over Lu Nanyang.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Lu Nanyang stared at him in disbelief.

“What the hell is wrong with you?! If you’ve got so much damn love to give, go volunteer in the countryside!” Xie Quan’s voice shook with emotion. “Stop trying to play savior all the time—”

Xie Quan stopped mid-sentence, his face turning pale and looking horrible. He bent over, gagging. Lu Nanyang noticed his face was terrifyingly pale, his chest heaving violently as if he couldn’t breathe in any oxygen, and somehow his palm had been cut by a shard of broken porcelain, the dark red blood trickling down his wrist. He didn’t even notice, still using that hand to brace himself on the dining table.

He clearly didn’t look normal.

“Xie Quan…” Lu Nanyang raised his hand, trying to comfort him. “You’re hurt.”

“Mind your own business!” Xie Quan spat out a few words through clenched teeth and then quickly rushed into the bathroom. Even through the door, Lu Nanyang could hear the sounds of him gagging.

The sun had set below the horizon, and the lights in the room hadn’t been turned on in time. In the foggy, dim light, the place was a mess—spilled food was everywhere, and as soon as someone moved, they would kick a broken porcelain shard, making a harsh sound.

Lu Nanyang lowered his eyelids, silently staring at the floor, before walking into the kitchen. He turned on the faucet, cupped some cold water in his hands, and splashed it onto his face.

The water dampened his forehead, the wet strands sticking to his skin, causing droplets to fall down along the line of his jaw.

In the haze, he remembered a similar experience from the past.

Before he came to Yuncheng City, before he took the surname Lu, there had always been a stray dog lingering near the grass by the school. He vaguely remembered it being a poodle or something, a breed that clearly had been abandoned. It was a good-looking dog, but its curly fur was filthy and tangled.

Lu Nanyang and a few of his friends would secretly feed it after school. After a few days, the dog gradually started to trust them, coming closer and closer while eating.

One time, the dog even came right up to him to eat a sausage. Lu Nanyang was excited. After feeding it for so long, this was the first time he was so close to the dog, so he took the chance while the dog was focused on the sausage to reach out and pet its head with his other hand.

But, contrary to what he had expected, the dog was startled and bit his hand. The sharp canine teeth even managed to break a few bones.

Fortunately, he was still young at the time, and his bones were not fully developed, so they were soft. If it had happened now, his left hand would have been useless.

His hand was stitched up with more than ten stitches at the hospital and had to wear a steel plate for several months. His parents were furious and said that if they ever saw that dog again, they would kill it.

He wasn’t sure if the adults’ threat had any effect, but the stray dog never appeared again.

In truth, Lu Nanyang had never blamed the dog. He knew very well that it wasn’t the dog’s fault—it had only been scared.

Lu Nanyang grabbed a broom and mop, cleaned up the mess on the floor, picked up the broken porcelain pieces one by one, wrapped them up, and threw them in the trash. Finally, he wiped down the table.

Then, he took off his clothes, which had been splashed with soup, threw them into the washing machine, and watched it spin.

After finishing all of this, he walked to the bathroom door and knocked.

There was no more dry-heaving from inside, but the sound of quick, strained breathing remained.

“Xie Quan,” Lu Nanyang slowed his speech, speaking each word clearly, “I know you’ve been working hard on that competition recently, so I just wanted to try making you a meal. I don’t know why you reacted this way. If you’re willing to talk, I’ll listen.”

There was no response from the other side of the door.

“By the way, about what happened in the bathroom, I thought about it, and it was my fault.” Lu Nanyang leaned against the doorframe and slowly spoke, “You know, I used to be a soldier, I’m rough around the edges in daily life, and I’ve never shared a place with anyone before. I apologize now. I’ll try to be better about it in the future.”

Still, there was no sound. Lu Nanyang, as if not caring, continued speaking.

“Also, your hand’s injury is quite severe. Even if you don’t go to the hospital, you should at least bandage it. Otherwise, it could…” Lu Nanyang chuckled, “Almost forgot, you’re the doctor. You taught me that not treating it properly could lead to an infection.”

Finally, the bathroom door was yanked open. Xie Quan, like an angry leopard, grabbed Lu Nanyang’s collar and glared at him fiercely. “What the hell do you want?”

Lu Nanyang’s expression remained calm. “Isn’t it tiring to have so much hostility toward everyone? I just want to help you.”

Xie Quan smiled, a cold, cruel glint flashing in his eyes. Then, he yanked on Lu Nanyang’s hair and pulled him sharply backward.

Lu Nanyang was caught off guard, slipped, and was half-dragged into the bathroom, then slammed hard onto the floor.

His knees hit the cold, hard tiles, and the pain was so intense that he almost cursed out loud.

Just as he was about to raise his head, Xie Quan pressed his head hard again, making him unable to move.

“Well, you want to help, right?” Xie Quan sneered as he unbuckled his belt with one hand. “Kneel properly.”