Desk-mate, Do You Like Me? - Chapter 58

Chapter 58

The deep tolling of the New Year’s Eve bell echoed in the crisp air, intertwining with the sudden burst of fireworks outside the window. Multi-colored flashes struggled to penetrate the glass, casting brief yet intensely splendid light and shadow in the dimly lit living room, like an ephemeral dream. They clearly illuminated the two figures on the sofa, tightly embracing, almost merging into one.

Li Mo hugged with great force, his arms like steel bands, pressing Xu Qing hard enough to feel a slight pain.

It was as if he wanted to completely knead this person into his very bone and blood, using this tangible sensation and body temperature to dispel the coldness and boundless loneliness that threatened to pierce through his heart and lungs.

Xu Qing did not struggle, nor did he move an inch. He simply quietly and completely endured the almost uncontrolled strength. One of his hands wrapped around Li Mo’s slightly trembling back, while the other gently rested on the back of his neck, his fingertips patiently and repeatedly stroking the short, prickly hair there.

This was a silent language, more powerful than any pale comfort. He was telling Li Mo with his actions: I am here, I am with you.

Time flowed in silence. The roaring sound of the fireworks outside gradually subsided, leaving only sporadic, unwilling bursts.

After a long time, Li Mo’s body, taut as a bowstring, finally relaxed little by little, but the tight embrace did not loosen. He didn’t lift his head, his face still deeply buried in Xu Qing’s warm neck, his voice muffled, thick with nasal congestion, and a hint of almost imperceptible choking: “…Idiot… why did you run back… Wasn’t your uncle’s house… lively? Wasn’t it good?”

He tried to use his usual, somewhat casual and teasing tone, but failed. The tail end of his voice betrayed the fragility he was desperately trying to hide.

“It was good.” Xu Qing’s answer was without hesitation, direct and clear, like a stone dropped into an icy lake, sharply cutting through the fog. “My uncle’s house was very lively, the food was fragrant, and everyone was very kind.” He paused, feeling Li Mo’s sudden holding of breath against his neck, and his voice became even softer, but also firmer. Word by word, it struck Li Mo’s heart: “But here is better.”

No superfluous explanation, no flowery words, just the simplest, most direct comparison, yet it carried an undeniable weight. Here is better, because you are here.

Li Mo’s arms instantly tightened again, like a drowning person grabbing the only piece of driftwood. He didn’t speak again, only burrowed his head deeper, expressing the turbulent emotions within with his actions.

Xu Qing let him hold him until he felt the body in his arms no longer tremble minutely, until the commotion outside completely subsided, leaving only the proper, joyously festive New Year’s greetings from the Spring Festival Gala hosts on the TV. He then gently pushed Li Mo’s shoulder, his tone returning to its usual steady calm: “Get up, we haven’t had New Year’s Eve dinner yet.”

Li Mo reluctantly and slowly released his arms. He looked up. Only the floor lamp was on in the living room, the light dim and ambiguous, but Xu Qing clearly saw his reddened eyes and his nose, which was wetter and darker than usual.

Li Mo realized it too and quickly and awkwardly looked away, raising the back of his hand to roughly wipe his face, trying to erase all traces.

“The dishes Uncle brought back… are probably completely cold by now…” He cleared his throat, trying to reclaim his usual nonchalant tone, but the effort was poor, his voice still hoarse.

“If they’re cold, we can just heat them up,” Xu Qing stood up and walked naturally to the wall. With a “click,” he flipped the switch for the main living room light.

Bright, warm light instantly flooded the space, like sunlight piercing through dark clouds, mercilessly driving away the last trace of gloom in the corner, and revealing the few untouched, exquisite takeout boxes with restaurant logos on the dining table.

“Or,” he turned and looked at Li Mo, a very slight, almost imperceptible indulgence in his eyes, “would you like to try what I make?”

The sentence was like magic. Li Mo’s eyes instantly brightened, and the remaining, not-yet-faded trace of vulnerability was immediately tossed to the winds.

He sprang up from the sofa, instantly injected with vitality, and followed closely behind Xu Qing into the kitchen. He didn’t forget his usual teasing to cover his earlier lapse: “Can you manage? I recall someone nearly burning a pot through the last time they tried a new dish. Don’t set the kitchen on fire on New Year’s Day; that would be truly lively, and calling the fire department would be so embarrassing.”

Xu Qing didn’t even bother to raise an eyelid, completely ignoring his banter. He walked straight to the refrigerator door, and the packed ingredients instantly came into view—these were all things they had carefully selected together, discussing and choosing them while pushing a shopping cart in the crowded supermarket a few days ago, originally intended for their anticipated New Year’s Eve dinner.

Now, these fresh vegetables, plump dumplings, and enticingly colored cured meats lay there quietly, as if waiting for something.

Xu Qing silently rolled up his sleeves, revealing his lean yet well-defined forearms. His tone was calm but carried an undeniable certainty: “Which one do you want? While I can’t cook a five-star meal, boiling dumplings, making noodles, or stir-frying two simple side dishes is no problem.”

Li Mo immediately crowded close, his warm body pressed against Xu Qing’s back, his chin almost resting intimately on his shoulder. His finger reached past him, pointing inside the fridge, and he started ordering without reservation: “That one! The dumplings with mixed seafood and shrimp! And that big piece of cured meat, stir-fry it with garlic sprouts! It must be super fragrant!” He paused, his gaze sweeping over the bag Xu Qing had placed on the counter, his voice carrying a hint of elusive anticipation and intimacy. “Oh, right, Mom… what delicious food did Aunt Liu ask you to bring?”

Xu Qing handed him the plastic bag with the festive pattern: “Here, my mom insisted on giving me this, said you should try some too. Have a snack first.”

Li Mo took the bag and opened it. Inside were clean, water-sheened red apples, and several pieces of traditional snacks and nuts that looked delicious. His eyes immediately curved into two new moons. He grabbed the largest apple unceremoniously, took a large bite with a “crunch,” the sweet juice bursting in his mouth. The sweetness seemed not to stay on his taste buds but to spread down his throat to the deepest part of his heart.

He leaned against the cool countertop, crunching on the apple while watching Xu Qing expertly put water on to boil, then wash the vegetables, slice the garlic sprouts, and cut the cured meat into uniformly thick slices.

His focused profile was bathed in the warm light of the kitchen ceiling lamp, covered in a soft halo. Even the slight trembling of his eyelashes was visible.

This scene had an indescribable magic, filling the emptiness in Li Mo’s heart, which had felt like it was suspended in mid-air, with something warm and substantial, making him feel full and secure.

It turned out that so-called reunion didn’t require an extravagant feast, nor the clamorous small talk of a crowd of people. It was about one person, when you felt abandoned by the world in a cold corner, turning back for you without hesitation, lighting a lamp for your return, and being willing to cook for you in a kitchen filled with the aroma of home-cooked food.

“Gurgle, gurgle—”

The water boiled, and white steam surged up, carrying the unique aroma of flour products, filling the small kitchen. Xu Qing carefully lowered the plump, round dumplings one by one into the rolling water. The transparent dumpling wrappers tumbled in the boiling water, gradually becoming porcelain white and full, like a school of cute little fish.

On the other side, the cured meat slices in the wok were already slightly curled, the transparent fat rendered out, mixing with the emerald green garlic sprouts. It exploded with an appetizing salty fragrance, so dominant that it even overshadowed the lingering smell of gunpowder occasionally drifting in from outside the window.

“All done, bring it out,” Xu Qing turned off the stove, his tone naturally commanding.

Li Mo immediately transformed into the most attentive assistant, nimbly carrying the steaming, white-smoke-billowing plate of dumplings and the plate of glossy, fragrant stir-fried cured meat and garlic sprouts to the dining table.

He also ritualistically found two identical small saucers, carefully poured dark vinegar and bright red chili oil, and set out the chopsticks.

The two finally sat across from each other at the dining table. The “New Year’s Eve dinner” before them was utterly simple—just a plate of dumplings and a plate of stir-fry, humble compared to the typical New Year’s Eve feast. But they were both steaming with genuine, inviting heat, radiating the scent of “home.”

“Try it and see if the seasoning is alright,” Xu Qing handed him the chopsticks, a hint of subtle expectation in his eyes.

Li Mo eagerly picked up the biggest, plumpest dumpling, blew on it hard, and then put the whole thing in his mouth.

The dumpling was obviously still very hot. He sucked in his breath from the heat, his cheeks puffed out, but he couldn’t bear to spit it out. He chewed while inhaling, giving a muffled thumbs-up, his eyes shining as he looked at Xu Qing: “Mmm… delicious! It’s so delicious!”

Watching his exaggerated yet genuine reaction, the mostly expressionless face of Xu Qing finally couldn’t help but crack into a faint smile, like the thawing of a frozen river. He also picked up his chopsticks and put a mouthful of garlic sprouts into his mouth. The taste was indeed good.

On the TV, the Spring Festival Gala continued tirelessly, songs and dances and skits taking turns, creating an illusion of a sea of joy. But at this moment, the two on the sofa no longer felt excluded from the excitement on the screen.

In this small, brightly lit space, with their steady breathing, their intertwining gazes, and the warm aroma of food, a complete, warm world had already been formed, surpassing all the superficial clamor of the world.

“Xu Qing.” Li Mo suddenly put down his chopsticks and sat up straight, calling his name very seriously, all traces of playfulness gone from his face.

“Yes?” Xu Qing looked up, meeting his eyes.

Li Mo stared deeply at him. In those eyes, which were usually somewhat nonchalant or teasing, too many complex and profound emotions were swirling now—gratitude like surviving a catastrophe, complete dependence and trust, and an intense, undisguised love that was almost overflowing. A thousand words crashed in his chest, eventually condensing into the two simplest, unadorned words: “Thank you.”

Thank you for coming back. Thank you for your choice. Thank you for… giving me a home.

Xu Qing met his gaze, without flinching. He clearly saw the turbulent sea in the other’s eyes. He shook his head gently, his tone steady and certain: “You’re welcome.”

He paused, as if making an important decision, and then added, his voice not loud, but with a rock-solid firmness, “From now on, we will spend every New Year together.”

Not a hesitant question, not a vague promise, but a categorical statement, about the present, and about all foreseeable future.

Li Mo was stunned, his pupils slightly dilated, seemingly unable to fully process the weight of the sentence. Immediately, a genuine and brilliant smile, like the morning sun breaking through the clouds, bloomed unreservedly on his face, instantly dispelling the last trace of gloom and unease in his eyes.

He nodded heavily, his voice tight with excitement, yet extraordinarily loud: “Mhm!”

After eating, the two worked together to clean the dishes. Li Mo insisted on taking over the dishwashing, under the pretext that “one shouldn’t just eat for free; one must reflect family value.” Xu Qing didn’t argue with him, leaning against the kitchen doorframe, watching his slightly clumsy but very earnest figure in rubber gloves, his gaze soft.

By the time everything was tidied up and the kitchen was clean again, the clock on the wall had quietly ticked past one o’clock in the morning.

Curled back up on the soft living room sofa, Li Mo, like a fully charged large dog, had regained his vigor, clinging intimately to Xu Qing, almost draping his entire body onto him.

He excitedly opened his phone. The first thing he saw was the deluge of messages in the family group chat. Yu Wenxiu had sent a photo—a charming night view of Sanya, a luxurious seafood feast covering the entire table, and Ye Jinlun’s smug, smiling face in little swim trunks, holding crab claws.

His tone gave no indication whether he was genuinely happy or held a grudge for being forgotten. He said wistfully, “The weather in Sanya is really nice…”

Xu Qing turned his head, looked at the photo on the screen, thought for a moment, and tried to comfort him with humor: “Mhm, will he be okay after getting sunburnt and turning into an African? I wonder.”

Hearing this, Li Mo couldn’t help but laugh out loud: “Although a handsome guy like me can rock any skin tone, I still don’t want to turn into an African.”

Just then, Li Mo’s phone chimed again; it was a notification from a specially designated contact. He unlocked the screen. It was a private message from his mother, Yu Wenxiu. There was no extra greeting, just another substantial transfer of money, with a simple and direct memo: [New Year’s money, buy something you like.]

Li Mo looked at the message and the string of cold numbers below it, his finger hovering over the screen for a long time.

Normally, he might habitually accept the money immediately, then reply with a “Thank you, Mom” emoji, completing a procedural exchange.

But now, he didn’t move. He turned his head, his gaze falling on Xu Qing’s quiet and peaceful profile beside him. Watching the light cast shallow shadows on his delicate skin, he suddenly felt that the string of numbers on the phone screen, representing material compensation, was infinitely less precious than one silent but warm glance from the person beside him.

He didn’t reply, nor did he collect the money. He simply silently turned off the screen and tossed the phone casually into the corner at the other end of the sofa, as if it were some irrelevant clutter.

Then, he reached out, put his arm back around Xu Qing’s shoulder, and gently rested his head against him. He found the most comfortable position and let out a satisfied sigh.

“Xu Qing,” he called out again in a low voice, his eyes closed.

“What is it now?” Xu Qing’s voice held a trace of imperceptible indulgence and helplessness.

“Nothing,” Li Mo rubbed his shoulder, his voice carrying the laziness of having eaten well and a feeling of complete contentment, like a large animal that had finally been petted and soothed. “Just calling your name.”

To confirm that you are still here. To confirm that this is not a dream. To confirm that this unique warmth truly and genuinely belongs to me.

Outside the window, under the deep night sky, occasional, unwilling fireworks struggled to rise, bursting forth at the highest point, using their last strength to adorn the tranquil firmament.

Inside the house, the lights were bright, and the warmth was cozy, completely isolating the cold of the winter night. The shadows of the two people leaned on the white wall, pulled long and intertwined by the light, as if they could never be separated again.

On this New Year’s Eve, some people were bathed in warm sunshine in distant lands, enjoying the joy of family reunion; others were on a cold patch of land in the north, using each other’s warmth and determined choice to construct a unique and complete happiness that belonged only to the two of them.