Chapter 54: Chengnan Bookstore 1
Ever since he got his own dedicated slippers and a dedicated little blue bowl, Yi Ke had been showing up at Fuxing Garden 201 on time almost every weekend. Zhuang Ningyu’s wake-up time was also forced to move up by an hour. Both of them tacitly understood and enjoyed this arrangement. The first victim of this ambiguous phase was the young waiter at the Qiaojiao Beef restaurant, Huang Afa. He lost his regular Saturday order, and so, upon seeing Zhuang Ningyu one time, he deliberately asked in a roundabout way, “Teacher Zhuang, what did you have for lunch?”
Zhuang Ningyu, holding a glass of lemonade, replied, “Brittany blue lobster, butter-poached leopard coral grouper, creamed asparagus rolls, and a strawberry soufflé.”
Huang Afa: Utterly and completely defeated.
It was another new Saturday. At nine in the morning, Zhuang Ningyu groggily glanced at the time. The doorbell was silent, so he dozed off for a little longer. Nine-thirty, still nothing. More than half an hour late for work without prior notice meant a deduction of the entire day’s wages. Zhuang Ningyu fumbled for his phone, expertly added the person to his blacklist, rolled himself up in the blanket, and went back to sleep.
An hour later, the doorbell finally rang with a “ding-dong.” Yi Ke stood outside, holding newly bought groceries, panting and asking pitifully, “Why did you blacklist me again? Is it because I didn’t send you a ‘love you puppy’ emoji when I said goodnight yesterday?”
Zhuang Ningyu: You guess.
Yi Ke couldn’t guess, but he could snatch his wife’s phone and forcefully remove himself from the blacklist. The morning sun was lovely. Zhuang Ningyu sat in a lounge chair by the window, rocking back and forth as he read a leisure book. He was wearing the loungewear Yi Ke had bought last time. The cashmere material was smooth, soft, and draped well. It was slightly one size too big, the sleeves covering his hands, but since he didn’t do any housework anyway, it didn’t matter. “Evil is neither matter nor void; evil is merely the absence of being, not a being itself.” The book in his hand, The City of God, was a hundred times more effective as a soporific than alprazolam on such a warm, quiet weekend. Zhuang Ningyu yawned and headed for the bedroom. “I’m going to sleep a little more.”
Yi Ke, busy in the kitchen, reminded him, “Get up in an hour to have some chicken soup.”
Zhuang Ningyu collapsed onto the bed with a crash and let out a lazy “Mm.”
The soup simmered on low heat, and the aroma of food filled the room, wafting out into the hallway. The elevator door opened with a “ding.” A middle-aged couple, laden with bags, stepped out. Both were sturdily built and tall, carrying the lean and capable air of people who spent a lot of time outdoors. 201 and 202 were connected, so there was only one household on this floor. Zhong Yu said with surprise and delight, “Our son has learned to make soup?”
Zhuang Yan, shouldering a new chair transported from South America, said, “I told you. He’s a grown man. How could he be secretly eating barbecue in the middle of the night every day? It’s just you overthinking.”
The keypad lock was new, so the two of them rang the doorbell. The sound of “pitter-patter” footsteps approached. Zhuang Yan sighed in his heart, as expected of my son, even his footsteps are so cute. He put down the chair, rubbed his palms together, and the moment the door opened, he enthusiastically opened his arms—
—and stopped zero point zero one centimeters from Yi Ke.
The two of them stared at each other. Zhong Yu, standing to the side, asked with a puzzled expression, “Young man, may I ask who you are?”
“Hello, Uncle and Auntie.” Yi Ke quickly stood up straight. He had specifically spruced himself up before leaving this morning, his hair styled with enough gel to rival a superstar, looking handsome and dashing enough that people would believe he was on his way to walk the red carpet at Cannes. It was just that his clothes didn’t match. The classic Taobao loungewear set had already faded slightly from washing, and he was holding a small cat-shaped silicone ladle. Zhong Yu sized up the ridiculously mismatched handsome man before her and asked tentatively, “Are you Xiao Yu’s colleague? I think I’ve seen him post a group photo.”
“Yes, my surname is Yi, Yi Ke. Uncle, Auntie, please come in and sit.”
The person in the bedroom was still asleep. Although Zhuang Ningyu had vaguely heard the commotion in the living room, he hadn’t heard it clearly and thought it was just Yi Ke on another app-based shopping spree. He couldn’t be bothered to pay attention, never dreaming that his parents would break the code of conduct and launch a sneak attack by returning home unannounced. Yi Ke was making tea in the kitchen. Zhuang Yan couldn’t hold back and whispered to his wife, “Is he wearing my clothes?”
Zhong Yu: “Shut up. I’ll buy you new ones at the mall later.”
Zhuang Yan: “…Is this about new or old clothes!”
The tea was fragrant; the tea leaves were brought by Yi Ke. In fact, ninety percent of the things in the kitchen were newly added by him. Zhuang Yan put down his teacup and asked, “Why isn’t Xiao Yu up yet?”
Zhong Yu covered her face with one hand.
Yi Ke: “He worked overtime last night!”
Zhuang Yan: “Hehehe, it’s good for young people to work overtime, good, good.”
The timer in the kitchen beeped. Yi Ke stood up from the sofa again. “Uncle, Auntie, please have some tea first. I’ll go check on the cod fillet in the pan.”
His phone was charging on the bedside table, so he couldn’t ask for help remotely. He could only stand by the pan and urgently ponder whether he should leave after cooking or stay and eat with them. At that moment, Zhuang Ningyu in the bedroom was awakened by the smell of pan-fried cod. He stretched languidly, extending a hand from under the covers to unlock his phone—a new message—
AAA Fusen Fruit Store Boss Wang: Professor Zhuang, I saw uncle and aunt just got back. I left a box of oranges at your door for you. I won’t knock to disturb you. Remember to get it.
Uncle and aunt just got back.
Zhuang Ningyu stared at this line of text, lost in a brief moment of confusion.
Message received fifteen minutes ago.
Fifteen minutes ago.
Uncle and aunt got back.
The rustling sounds outside the bedroom door continued. Zhong Yu walked into the kitchen. Yi Ke’s hand slipped, and the spatula almost fell to the floor. The chicken soup was ready, and the cod had been plated. Yi Ke braced himself and said, “There’s also a vinaigrette salad. I made the dressing a bit sweet, you just need to pour it in. Auntie, you and Uncle can eat. I have something to do, so I’ll be leaving first.”
“What’s the rush? Stay and eat before you go.” Zhong Yu took an apron from the side, tied it, and said with a smile, “I’ll cook the rest of the dishes. You go sit in the living room and have some fruit. They’re strawberries grown by your uncle’s friend, very sweet. What’s in this cup?”
“Dried apple and lily bulb water,” Yi Ke quickly replied. “…Uh, I’ve had a bit of a cough lately.”
The kitchen was filled with the sounds of frying and stir-frying. Zhuang Yan couldn’t sit still by himself and walked to the bedroom door. He turned the handle and pushed it open with a “bang.” Zhuang Ningyu, who had been squatting for a while, clutched his head as if nothing had happened. “Dad.”
Zhuang Yan pointed a finger towards the kitchen.
Zhuang Ningyu’s expression didn’t change. “A friend.”
And before his dear father could ask further “what kind of friend,” he brushed past him and went straight to the kitchen. “Mom!”
Yi Ke was relieved and urgently asked with his eyes, Should I leave now?
Zhuang Ningyu clapped him on the shoulder. “Work unit—”
Zhong Yu was unmoved. “What work unit? Wash your hands and eat!”
Zhuang Ningyu: “…”
The honor of the first sit on the dining chair that Zhuang Yan had carried back from thousands of miles away went to Xiao Yi. When serving the rice, Zhuang Ningyu directed, “Dad, you use that white bowl!”
Zhuang Yan, holding his own blue, lace-trimmed bowl, realized something, and his heart broke a little.
The atmosphere at the dining table was harmonious because Yi Ke was truly an outstanding young man in every aspect. Even his appetite was of the worry-free type that elders love. If Zhuang Yan had had a daughter—then unmarried cohabitation would be even more unacceptable! He cleared his throat, about to express his opinion, but was kicked under the table by his wife. The kids are eating, don’t you start with your ‘ahems’ and ‘coughs’.
Zhuang Yan: “…Xiao Yi, come on, eat more, eat more.”
The most frustrating part for the two elders came after the meal. Before leaving, Yi Ke went into Zhuang Ningyu’s bedroom to change his clothes. Zhuang Yan stood by the window, pinching the acupoint between his nose and upper lip. The security door opened and locked again, the elevator door opened and closed. Zhong Yu saw Yi Ke all the way to the building entrance before returning. When she got home, Zhuang Ningyu was sitting on the sofa, holding a cup and gulping down the loving apple and lily bulb cough-soothing water. Zhuang Yan, standing to the side, was heartbroken. “Why is it a man?”
Zhuang Ningyu replied, “Because people are free.”
Zhuang Yan did not want to discuss philosophy at this moment. He wanted to get himself some Angong Niuhuang Wan to calm his twitching symptoms and help restore his conscious awareness. Zhong Yu took the empty cup from her son’s hand. “When did it start?”
Zhuang Ningyu felt this question was a bit difficult to sort out, because strictly speaking, the two of them hadn’t actually started yet. But saying “we’re just ordinary friends” was also a bit too fake. After all, he had been very well taken care of during this period, with clothes brought to him and food served to him. The house was full of traces left by Yi Ke. So he gave a perfunctory answer, “A month or two, I guess.”
How did they end up living together after just one or two months? Zhuang Yan: Even more heartbroken!
But heartbroken or not, he didn’t stop the young man from coming back the next weekend. Zhuang Ningyu bought Yi Ke a new set of loungewear, upgrading from 100% pure cotton to 100% pure cashmere, a clear sign of his elevated status. Yi Ke sat in his dedicated dining chair, watching him drink soup and asking with a hint of nervousness, “Are uncle and aunt not coming to your place today?”
“They’re not,” Zhuang Ningyu said. “They have a lot of friends to meet up with. They can’t be bothered with me for now.”
That’s good. Yi Ke let out a deep sigh of relief. He moved his chair closer to his wife and picked up a spoon to feed him shrimp fried rice. “Don’t just drink soup.”
“By the way,” Zhuang Ningyu remembered to ask, “the book club event you mentioned last time, when is it?”
“Next Sunday,” Yi Ke said. “I’ve already signed up. Sister Jing said a lot of people are participating this time, probably because the New Year is coming up, so everyone is free. The old place isn’t big enough, so the location has been temporarily changed to the new wing of the Chengnan Bookstore.”
The Chengnan Bookstore first opened in the university town. Because the owner had a unique eye for selecting books, the business was very good, and its scale of operation grew larger and larger. The new wing was located in the suburban Qinghu Art Park. It had three floors and, from a distance, looked like a white bird in flight. It hadn’t officially opened yet, which was why the book club was able to book the venue at an extremely low price.
Neither Zhuang Ningyu nor Yi Ke had ever been to Qinghu Art Park before, so they were unfamiliar with the roads. On the day of the event, they drove around inside for three or four laps before finding the entrance to the parking lot. By the time they arrived at the bookstore, they were already five minutes late. The organizer, Sister Jing, smiled and said, “It’s fine, President Fu hasn’t arrived either. You two can sit down and have a drink first.”
Yi Ke felt like he had seen a ghost. “Didn’t he go to Turin, Italy for the 18th Clean Energy Technology Week?”
Zhuang Ningyu turned his head in confusion. How do you know that in such detail?
Yi Ke: Don’t you worry about that.
Zhuang Ningyu: “…”
Fu Han was also a member of the book club. He paid his dues on time, so it was reasonable and proper for him to want to attend the event. When he appeared, he was dressed in his usual suit, with two bodyguards. His thin, silver-rimmed glasses made him seem cold and distant. Only when he saw Zhuang Ningyu did his expression soften slightly, a hint of a smile appearing. “Long time no see.”
Zhuang Ningyu said, “I thought you weren’t interested in Russian literature.”
“I’m indeed not interested,” Fu Han said, looking at his beautiful eyes. “But it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you, and I couldn’t get you to go out with me, so I had to sign up for the book club.”
Zhuang Ningyu was basically immune to such confessions. He gave a couple of perfunctory replies without a change in expression and went up to the second floor. Yi Ke was curled up on a sofa in the corner, holding a cup of suspiciously colored, artificially flavored green apple juice, sipping it without any taste. He looked as if he had been dyed green. The moment he saw Zhuang Ningyu, he immediately dropped the cup and demanded, “What did he just say to you?”
Zhuang Ningyu: “The usual.”
Yi Ke: “I knew it!”
To come to a book club event when he’s not even interested in Russian literature, it’s simply a desecration of the great Dostoevsky!
Zhuang Ningyu didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Don’t talk nonsense.”
Yi Ke pointed to a page in the book and recited with righteous indignation, “To talk nonsense is the sole privilege of humankind over other organisms. Talk nonsense and you’ll get to the truth! I talk nonsense, therefore I’m human!”
Zhuang Ningyu looked at this lively, handsome man and sighed from the bottom of his heart.
Yi Ke reverted to his pitiful, obedient posture. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m worried,” Zhuang Ningyu patted his head. “This bookstore is too small. The stage won’t be big enough for your performance later.”
