In a Relationship With the Rugged Guy Next Door - Chapter 18

Chapter 18: “Spring is counting down, and so is summer…”

He had intended to sleep his fill, but after the bowl of noodles, he wasn’t that sleepy anymore.

Thinking back to how strange Chen Lang had been yesterday, Chen Jingming was worried. He decided to get up, wash, and head over to Chen Lang’s house.

Chen Lang’s family still lived on the Old Street. They used to be much wealthier than Chen Jingming and Chu Feng’s families because they ran the town’s rice mill. They had a large house with a massive plum tree in front.

Chen Jingming and Chu Feng lived in the middle of the Old Street; walking toward the New Street would lead right to Chen Lang’s place.

It was late spring. The willow branches had grown thick, and the wind blew them right into Jingming’s face. He had planned to take the riverside path, but after being “whipped” by a few branches, he retreated to the street on the opposite side.

Along the way, he saw an old woman carrying two baskets of bayberries (yangmei).

“Want to buy some?” she asked.

Having been away for so many years, Jingming no longer knew which fruits ripened in which season; in the city, he just bought whatever was in the supermarket.

He asked cautiously, “Are they sweet?”

The woman set down her load. “Have a taste.” She handed him a few. “The first batch is a bit tart; see if you like them.”

“Thank you.” Jingming popped one into his mouth, and the sourness made his whole face pucker.

The woman laughed. “Kids never like the sour ones.”

Jingming smiled. “It’s okay, I’ll take some, Grandma.”

“Do you have elders at home?”

“Mhm.”

Jingming bought two pounds and had them put into two separate bags.

…

The front door to Chen Lang’s house was closed. Jingming knocked a few times.

“Jingming?”

Jingming looked up. Chen Lang, with hair like a bird’s nest, poked his head out of a second-story window. “What are you doing here?”

“My brother said you weren’t feeling well, so I came to check on you,” Jingming said.

“Oh.” Chen Lang looked utterly listless. “Wait a sec, I’ll come down and open the door.”

The first floor of Chen Lang’s house used to be a storefront. After the rice mill closed, his parents sold rapeseed oil and dried noodles there before moving to the New Street. Now it was mostly empty, housing Chen Lang’s motorcycle and miscellaneous junk.

“Did you eat breakfast, Brother Lang?” Jingming followed him inside. “Where does it hurt?”

Chen Lang: “My butt hurts.”

Chen Jingming: “Huh?”

Chen Lang turned around, looking desperate. “The night before last… I slept with Fu Yu.”

“Oh…” Jingming processed this for a second. “Wait, what? Then why does your butt hurt?”

Chen Lang: “Being the one to initiate doesn’t mean you’re the ‘top’.”

Jingming felt like he’d been struck by lightning. “You mean you actively… did that to him? Wait, no, didn’t you guys hate each other? He wouldn’t let you smoke, and you almost fought!”

Chen Lang continued hobbling up the stairs. “That’s exactly why I wanted to show him who’s boss. Hiss…”

Jingming followed him upstairs with the bayberries. “Brother Lang, you don’t have to lie to save face with me. I won’t tell anyone.”

“…” Chen Lang slumped sideways onto the sofa. “Fine. I don’t know what happened, honestly. I woke up like this after being drunk.”

Jingming scratched his head. “Well… it’s okay. You’re both adults.”

“You little brat.” Chen Lang couldn’t help but laugh. “Listen to you talking like a grown-up. But I am actually worried. I’m afraid he’ll hate me because of this and pull out of the partnership.”

Jingming thought to himself: If he hated you, why did you guys do it? Hate-sex?

He sat down nearby. “I don’t think so. Manager Fu is picky, sure—rich second generation and all—but you can tell he’s a man of principle. He wouldn’t let personal matters ruin business.”

Chen Lang: “Principle my ass. He didn’t even use a condom.”

“Oh, oh…” This was the first time Jingming had heard such blunt details. “I see…”

“You wouldn’t understand.” Chen Lang rubbed his waist. “What’d you buy? Bayberries? Wash some for me. Then go cook me a bowl of noodles.”

Jingming stood up obediently. “Sure thing, Brother Lang.”

Chen Lang: “Two over-easy eggs.”

“Okay~” Jingming opened the fridge and pulled out some ingredients. He saw some minced meat and fresh peas, so he made a stir-fry to top the noodles. He tasted it; it was pretty good.

Chen Lang took a bite, looked at Jingming with a sigh, and kept eating.

“Brother Lang.” “Mm?” “What did it feel like? Did it hurt a lot?”

Chen Lang: “…”

Chen Jingming: “I’ve seen videos before, and people usually seem to enjoy it.”

“You…” Chen Lang was already in pain; he couldn’t believe the questions coming out of this kid’s mouth. “Go home, okay?”

Jingming felt sheepish and didn’t dare ask again.

Seeing him like that, Chen Lang felt bad. Holding his waist, he explained: “It’s because Fu Yu, that dog, is not gentle at all. No lube, just forced it in. Understand?”

Jingming quickly nodded with a smile. “Got it, got it.”

Chen Lang laughed helplessly. “Let me educate you. The people in those videos are veterans; they’re loose as hell. A virgin like you? If Old Cow ever tried to shove it in, you’d end up in the hospi—”

“AH!!” Jingming couldn’t take such crude talk. He let out a yell to interrupt Chen Lang. “Brother Lang, what are you saying!”

Chen Lang: “Oh, please. You two sleep in the same bed every night. Don’t tell me you haven’t felt anything.”

Chen Jingming: “I haven’t!”

Chen Lang gave a wicked smile. “Well, watch yourself. Straight guys don’t know their own strength.”

Jingming recalled everything Chu Feng had done recently, and his ears began to burn. He gave Chen Lang a guilty, fake smile.

“That won’t happen.”

…

After breakfast, Chen Lang lay on the sofa watching TV, checking his phone every few minutes. Jingming helped tidy the house and scrubbed the kitchen clean. Chen Lang even made Jingming do his laundry and help him catch a stray goose in the yard. Jingming was so busy he barely had a sip of water.

In the afternoon, Chen Lang pulled himself together and rode his bike to take Jingming to the city to get a new SIM card.

“Are you still using the old one?” Chen Lang asked.

“It’s always on airplane mode. I’m afraid to turn it on,” Jingming replied.

Chen Lang hummed. “You’re doing better now, right? Your brother didn’t let me mention it when you first came back.”

“Much better,” Jingming explained. “I’m changing the card because I want to register new accounts. Plus, since that number was leaked, strangers keep calling. It’s inconvenient.”

Seeing Jingming so candid made Chen Lang feel relieved. “We’re glad. Your brother treasures you too much; he still thinks you’re a kid. It’s like he’s the only one who aged in thirteen years, while you stayed the same.”

“Brother Lang.” “Mm?” “After I left back then… was my brother doing okay?”

It took a while for Chen Lang to answer. “Not really.”

On the way to the city, they passed through a long, long avenue lined with plane trees. The afternoon sun was perfect, and when Jingming looked up, he saw nothing but vibrant green. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting mottled shadows. At a roadside cafe, some young people were drinking beer in broad daylight, one of them singing with a raspy voice, “Drunk, singing by the river…” Jingming softly sang the next line: “…forever loving you is what I said.”

Perhaps people who work with words are naturally sensitive, or perhaps Jingming was just a crybaby. He cried when he was happy, he cried when he was sad, and he cried when he was moved.

Good thing he had a helmet on, or Chen Lang would have teased him.

Jingming suddenly missed Chu Feng. Knowing they were breathing the same wind made him feel safe and happy.

I should start writing from the spring, Jingming thought.

Just like when he first started writing, he wanted to record life—record this spring. Memories of Changling weren’t just from thirteen years ago; they could be from a second ago.

The sun was hot, and the wind was cool. Spring was counting down, and so was summer.

…

By the time they got back from the city, Chu Feng was already home, stewing beef in the kitchen. He figured if Jingming wasn’t going to be “strapped to his belt” all day, he needed to have some easy-to-eat food ready at home.

The recipe for braised beef was one Chu Feng’s grandmother had taught him. Jingming had eaten it as a child. He leaned against the kitchen doorframe, watching Chu Feng stew the brisket.

“What’s up?” Chu Feng was wearing a tank top, no apron, stirring the tomato and potato beef brisket with a long wooden spoon. The brisket was almost done, the sauce thickening and bubbling loudly over the high heat.

Jingming stepped inside. “Nothing. Just wanted to watch.”

Chu Feng picked out a piece of brisket—half fat, half lean. The potatoes were stewed so soft they were turning into a mash, blending with the tomato juice to coat the beef. The rich aroma was mouth-watering.

“Blow on it.”

Jingming was in such a hurry to eat that he blew on it twice, but Chu Feng reached out to block his mouth. “It’s hot, Baby.” He blew on it a few more times himself before letting Jingming have it.

“You went to see Xiao Lang today. How is he?” Chu Feng asked.

On the table sat the pot of brisket, a plate of freshly braised beef, and a dish of garlic lettuce.

Jingming, eating happily, mumbled, “He’s fine.”

“That’s good then.”

“Brother,” Jingming asked, “how is it going with Manager Fu? Are they going to collaborate?”

This was what Chen Lang was most worried about. An order from the Crescent Hotel was a massive opportunity to open up out-of-town markets for Changling beef. It was incredibly important. Jingming waited for the answer, feeling a bit tense.

Chu Feng acted as if everything were normal. “Yes, they are. They always were. Today, Manager Fu’s assistant contacted me to sign for a three-month supply to start.”

“No… surprises?”

“Why would there be surprises?” Chu Feng looked at Jingming, puzzled.

Jingming, always a poor liar, lowered his head guiltily. “I didn’t mean it like that…”

Chu Feng: “I feel like you and Xiao Lang have been acting weird these last two days. Especially him. Tell me, what’s actually wrong with him? A cold?”

Jingming didn’t want to lie, but Chu Feng was a persistent, old-fashioned “parental” figure. Thankfully, Chu Feng’s phone rang, saving Jingming’s life.

He took the call on speaker. It was the grandmother from the town’s incense shop. She said the power was out at her house and asked if Chu Feng could take a look. Since they were finished eating, Chu Feng said he’d head over right away.

There weren’t many ways to make a living in town, so most young people left for work, leaving the elderly and children behind. Whenever a TV broke, the internet went down, or a phone wouldn’t connect, people came to Chu Feng and Chen Lang.

Jingming went with him, treating the walk as a post-dinner stroll.

The issue at the grandmother’s house wasn’t complicated—just old wiring. Chu Feng shut off the breaker and replaced a section of the wire. While Jingming held the ladder, the grandmother asked if he was Jingming.

“Yes, Grandma, I’m Jingming,” he said with a sweet smile.

“I heard you were back, but I hadn’t seen you yet.” The grandmother, heavily hunched, smiled and asked, “How are your parents over there? Are they healthy?”

The elderly woman didn’t know what had happened; she only knew that the people who adopted him were well-off and kind. Seeing Jingming now, he looked bright and healthy.

“Grandma,” Chu Feng suddenly interrupted. “A few days ago you said the security camera was broken. Is it fixed?”

Grandma: “No. I called the service center several times and no one came. My granddaughter keeps nagging me about it.”

Jingming knew why Chu Feng had suddenly changed the subject. He could have answered the question about his parents, but Chu Feng thought he was too fragile for it.

He smiled and followed the new topic: “How about I take a look at the camera in a bit?”

“You know how to do that?” Chu Feng looked down at him.

Jingming tilted his chin up. “Why wouldn’t I? That’s exactly what I studied.”