In a Relationship With the Rugged Guy Next Door - Chapter 16

Chapter 16: “It’s okay not to be ‘good’…”

Chen Jingming felt completely drained—mentally and physically.

“Brother.”

“Yeah?”

“You’ve really lost your mind.”

“Haha!” Chu Feng didn’t feel the least bit angry at being scolded. He actually found the boy’s minor temper endearing. He reached out with his large hands, scooped Jingming up, and said, “Go take a shower.”

While Chen Jingming was in the shower, Chu Feng stood at the sink outside, scrubbing the pants Jingming had just taken off. As he washed, he filled him in on the events of the previous night.

Apparently, after getting drunk, Chen Lang and Manager Fu nearly came to blows. One called the other a “poser,” and the other called him “crude.” Li Yongjing had tried to mediate at first, but once the alcohol hit him, he started rambling about how he’d fought with his wife and she’d taken the kids back to her parents’ house.

Only Chen Jingming had remained quiet and obedient while drunk. Chu Feng had carried the rowdiest one, Chen Lang, back to the guesthouse first. By the time he finished moving everyone else and returned to the private room, he found Chen Jingming lying on the floor, hugging the wine jug.

“That couldn’t have been me,” Chen Jingming argued.

Chu Feng: “Who else could it have been?”

Chen Jingming said seriously, “I’m not that kind of person.”

“What kind of person are you then?” Chu Feng teased.

Chen Jingming turned off the shower and said, “I’m very good.”

He had always been the type to never do anything that would cause trouble or make people dislike him.

“You are indeed good,” Chu Feng said, wringing out the pants. He added, “But it’s okay not to be ‘good,’ too.”

Chen Jingming, who was drying himself off, froze for a moment. His body, still steamed from the hot water, seemed to have an excess of moisture.

Tears slipped silently from his eyes.

Chen Jingming was an expert at crying in secret. Even as the tears fell, he responded to Chu Feng in a steady voice, “I’ll be out in a second.”

Because Chen Jingming’s clothes had gotten dirty on the floor last night, Chu Feng had scrubbed them clean and hung them on the guesthouse rooftop to dry. Since his underwear had just been washed this morning, he had to “go commando” until they got home.

He wasn’t used to this at all as an adult. Before leaving the room, he kept checking himself in the mirror, worried about any visible outlines.

“It’s fine,” Chu Feng said, coming over to look. “It’s small; you can’t see anything.”

Chen Jingming: “Brother! What do you mean ‘small’!?”

It was clearly a perfectly normal size!

Chu Feng: “It’s okay if it’s small, as long as it works.”

Chen Jingming: “I am not small!”

Chu Feng: “I’ve seen it. It’s a bit small. A man’s should be big like mine.”

Chen Jingming pouted and stomped his foot in anger. “Hmph, yours is just too big! It’s a deformity!”

“Alright, alright, Brother’s fault. I’m the deformed one,” Chu Feng said, grabbing Jingming’s arm. “Let’s go. Time for breakfast. Li Yongjing went back to work, but Xiao Lang said he and Manager Fu are already at the breakfast shop.”

Chen Jingming: “Didn’t they fight?”

Chu Feng: “That was the alcohol. Once they sober up, they’re just business partners.”

…

Dagu Village was part of Changling Town, but it sat on the outskirts. It had been developed as a tourist village long ago, but business had always been lukewarm. The lack of tourists had a silver lining: it wasn’t over-developed and felt more authentic than most attractions.

The village was built along a mountain, with a massive reservoir at its base that looked more like a lake. Since it was the weekend, many people had driven in. On the main road, Chen Jingming and Chu Feng walked close together to dodge strollers.

“I’ve never been here before,” Chen Jingming remarked.

“Do you like places like this?” Chu Feng asked.

Jingming said he did.

“There are plenty of places like this. I’ll take you to more later,” Chu Feng said, pointing to a coffee shop at a crossroads. “Want a coffee? My treat.”

Chen Jingming: “Huh?”

Seeing that he wanted one, Chu Feng led him inside.

“Feng-ge,” the barista greeted him as she walked to the bar. “You’re here early. And this is?”

“My brother, Jingming.” He turned to Jingming. “Orange, call her Sister.”

Chen Jingming said obediently, “Hello, Sister Orange.”

Orange made them coffee and gave them a bag of cookies. Chen Jingming sat on a high stool at the bar, secretly observing the warm interaction between Chu Feng and Orange.

Since returning, this was the first time Jingming had seen Chu Feng so friendly with a woman his own age. When they chatted, Chu Feng rested both arms on the bar, making his shoulder lines even more prominent. They kept smiling and making eye contact.

Chen Jingming stuffed a cookie into his mouth aggressively.

“He is cute,” Orange noted. She glanced at Jingming and lowered her voice to Chu Feng. “But you shouldn’t raise him like a child. He needs a sense of boundaries.”

Chu Feng was dismissive. “What boundaries do two brothers need?”

Orange: “Because… do you really not know, or are you pretending?”

“Know what?” Chu Feng took a sip of coffee. “I only know we are the closest people in the world to each other. If I don’t treat him well, who will?”

Orange gave a helpless, fake smile. “Fine.”

…

They brought two coffees for Chen Lang and Fu Yu. When they reached the breakfast shop, only Chen Lang was left, staring pensively at a glass of milk.

“Brother Lang?” Chen Jingming sat next to him. “What’s wrong?”

Chen Lang scratched his cheek. “Nothing.”

Chen Jingming: “Where’s Manager Fu?”

“Left,” Chen Lang replied listlessly. “He said he’s going into the city today to check out some shops.”

Chu Feng sat down after ordering. “You didn’t go with him?”

Chen Lang’s eyes flickered with panic. “Why would I go? That’s his private itinerary.”

Chu Feng: “What’s that on your neck?”

Chen Jingming, who had been looking at a white camellia in the courtyard, whipped his head around. Following Chu Feng’s finger, he saw two very obvious… hickeys just below the collarbone?

“Mosquito,” Chen Lang said, pulling his shirt tight and buttoning it up.

“What mosquitoes are out this season?” Chu Feng, rarely seeing Chen Lang so subdued, was worried. “Let me see. Was it a poisonous bug?”

“It’s just a mosquito,” Chen Lang dodged.

“Right,” Chen Jingming chimed in quickly. “There are mosquitoes. I got bitten too.”

The arrival of their porridge and buns finally made Chu Feng drop the subject. Chen Jingming sat between the two of them. While eating his preserved egg and pork porridge, he secretly nudged Chen Lang’s foot under the table.

Chen Lang felt it, but immediately turned his back to play dead. Jingming tried again, anxious to know what had happened.

“I’ll wait for you guys in the car,” Chen Lang stood up and walked out before anyone could respond.

Chu Feng stirred his large bowl of noodles. “Strange.”

Chen Jingming watched Chen Lang’s uncharacteristically sluggish pace, wanting to say something but ultimately burying his head back into his porridge.

…

When everyone was gone, Chu Feng looked confused. “What’s wrong with everyone this morning?”

Chen Jingming: “Nothing.”

Chu Feng believed him; he didn’t think Jingming was the type of kid to lie, but his gut told him something was off.

As they walked to the parking lot, they passed a quiet martial temple where strange music was playing.

“What’s that?” Chen Jingming asked.

“Probably practicing Nuo opera,” Chu Feng said, carrying the extra coffees. “Lord Li of Dagu Village is a famous inheritor of the craft.”

At the entrance, Chen Jingming stopped to peek through a crack in the door. Inside, a person was wearing a patterned red and yellow robe and a large red mask.

“Wow…” Jingming stepped forward unconsciously. The mask looked heavy, with bold colors and exaggerated lines. Combined with the rhythmic gongs and drums, the dance felt like a beautiful piece of Chinese folklore.

But the body of the dancer didn’t look like that of an old man.

Chu Feng noticed it too. He stepped onto the stone steps and called out softly, “Xiao Quan?”

The dancer jumped, visibly startled. Seeing it was Chu Feng, he relaxed and jogged over. “Feng-ge.”

Chu Feng: “I thought it was your grandfather.”

“Don’t tell him,” the boy said. He didn’t take off the mask, but his voice sounded about the same age as Chen Jingming’s.

Chu Feng smiled. “Got it.” The boy gently closed the door.

…

Chu Feng went to work at the pasture, and Chen Jingming went with him. Chu Feng had an office there, so while he went to the slaughterhouse, Jingming stayed behind to play.

Chen Jingming sat in Chu Feng’s chair. The computer was on, and Chu Feng had told him he could look at anything. There were only a few folders on the desktop. Jingming looked through a few, but didn’t quite understand them.

His mind was still on the boy with the Nuo mask. Since returning to Changxi, he had met so many people whose lives were worlds apart from the city, yet each seemingly ordinary person had something unique about them.

Everything felt so fresh.

Chen Jingming opened a blank document and stared at it for a long time. A knock at the door broke his trance. A round-faced girl with braided hair peered in. “Jingming.”

“Hello,” Jingming stood up. He didn’t quite know where to look, because half of the girl’s face was covered in burn scars. He was worried about making her uncomfortable.

“My name is Meng Qingyu. I do the new media operations here,” she said, stepping inside without any self-consciousness. “You haven’t met me yet.”

Chen Jingming: “Right. Are you looking for my brother? He’s at the slaughterhouse.”

“No, no,” she waved her hand. “I wanted to ask when you’re going to film another video of the boss?”

The last one had been a hit. Since they couldn’t convince the busy boss themselves, they came to Jingming for help.

Chen Jingming scratched his head. “How about… this afternoon?”

“Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.”

“Jingming,” Meng Qingyu looked at him. “You really look like your mother.”

Chen Jingming: “You knew her?”

She nodded. “She often came to our village for consultations. Our village was the one burned by the forest fire.” She pointed to her face. “That’s when I got this.”

Her phone rang. There was no bitterness in her voice as she took the call, waved to Jingming, and whispered, “I’ve gotta go!”

Chen Jingming, Chen Chunyi, Chu Feng, Chu Yi, Chen Lang, Hu Xianyun, Li Yongjing, Seventh Uncle, Meng Qingyu…

The people and stories woven into this land were so vivid and profound. Chen Jingming stood there for a long time before sitting down.

He raised his hands and typed a title on the blank document: Memories of Changling.