Why Does First Love Feel This Sweet? - chapter 6

Chapter: 6 The Name Known Only to One

As the provincial art exam drew near, Sheng Yi felt his “touch” returning. One evening, he put down his brushes earlier than usual. Stretching as he left the studio, he noticed the cold curry and chicken wings on the dining table. He had no idea when Rong Yu had found the time to come home and cook, given how busy he was.

Sheng Yi tasted a potato from the curry. It was sweet, with a hint of tomato sauce—exactly the flavor profile he loved. It was uncanny; Sheng Yi didn’t even know his own preferences yet, but Rong Yu seemed to have had a deep conversation with his stomach.

Though his memories were gone, someone was remembering for him.

He called Rong Yu. “What’s wrong?” Rong Yu asked, surprised to receive a call.

“Nothing, just checking when my wife is coming home,” Sheng Yi teased lazily. “Am I sleeping alone tonight?”

Rong Yu paused, calculating. “11:20 PM.”

“Let’s go get late-night snacks when you’re back,” Sheng Yi wheedled. “I’ve been stuck inside for a month. I’m going stir-crazy. Only BBQ can save me.”

“Alright,” Rong Yu’s low chuckle vibrated through the phone, making Sheng Yi’s ears tingle. “It’s cold. Dress warmly and wait for me.”

…

By 11:10 PM, Sheng Yi was waiting by the door, thinking of lamb skewers. He grew impatient and decided to walk down to the estate entrance to meet Rong Yu’s car.

The night air was crisp. A neighbor was grilling in their yard, the scent of charred meat making Sheng Yi’s stomach cramp with hunger. He reached into his pocket to check the time, but realized he’d left his phone inside.

“Young man, you live across the street?” a neighbor asked, waving a skewer. “Want some?”

“I couldn’t possibly…” Sheng Yi smiled shyly, then proceeded to accept.

Meanwhile, Rong Yu pulled up to the house and called Sheng Yi. No answer. He tried several times, panic rising. He searched the house—no Sheng Yi. He found the phone on the table and noticed a pair of sneakers missing from the rack.

Rong Yu sped through the villa complex, his face pale. He finally stopped to ask the neighbors. “The boy in the blue down jacket?” the neighbor said. “He ate some food here ten minutes ago and left that way.”

“Thank you.” Rong Yu grabbed a scarf and ran.

“Sheng Yi!” he called into the cold wind. “Sheng Yi! Hang-hang—!”

“Who is Hang-hang?”

Rong Yu froze. In the shadows beyond a streetlamp, Sheng Yi sat on a bench, smiling at him.

Rong Yu took a ragged breath, closing his eyes to steady himself. He walked into the darkness, his voice rasping. “What are you doing here?”

“Taking a walk,” Sheng Yi said. He didn’t want to admit he had gotten lost. After leaving the neighbor’s house, he had forgotten his purpose. The villas all looked the same, and he couldn’t find his way back.

Rong Yu’s face was hidden in the shadows of a pine tree. Finally, his cold hand touched Sheng Yi’s cheek. “Weren’t we going for BBQ?”

“Oh, right!” Sheng Yi remembered. “I came to meet you, but I ended up crashing the neighbor’s grill. His lamb skewers were incredible.”

“I see,” Rong Yu said, sounding exhausted. He wrapped the scarf around Sheng Yi and pulled him up. “Next time, don’t come out. Wait for me at home.”

Back in the car, under the lights, Sheng Yi saw how deathly pale Rong Yu was. “Xiao Yu, are you okay? Should we just go home?”

“I’m fine,” Rong Yu whispered, leaning back with his eyes closed.

Sheng Yi felt guilty. He thought Rong Yu was just shaken by the “disappearance.” He rubbed his hands together to warm them and reached out to cup Rong Yu’s face. “I’m sorry. I won’t run off—”

The rest of his words were muffled as Rong Yu pulled him into a crushing embrace.

“Xiao Yu?” Sheng Yi patted the man’s back, feeling the suppressed intensity of his emotions. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

“It’s you.”

“Hm?”

“Hang-hang.” Rong Yu buried his face in Sheng Yi’s neck. “You said… only I could call you that. But you’ve forgotten everything.”

…

That night, Sheng Yi fell asleep fully clothed, his stomach full of BBQ. Rong Yu entered with a glass of warm milk to find him out cold. He gently changed Sheng Yi into his pajamas.

As Rong Yu watched him sleep, their memories and dreams converged.

The Dream: Seven-year-old Sheng Yi had become a permanent fixture in Rong Yu’s room. One night, Sheng Yi snooped through Rong Yu’s diary. Diary Entry: “March 1st. Boring. Sheng Yi stole my bed again. He drools. So dirty. My dog, Xiao Jie, sleeps better than him…” Sheng Yi was furious. He had treated Rong Yu so well, and the boy was trash-talking him in a diary!

They had a “cold war” for a week. Finally, Sheng Yi apologized by bringing a new diary to Rong Yu. “You saw my secrets, so now I’ll give you mine. Don’t be mad.” In the corner of Sheng Yi’s diary, he had written two words: Hang-hang. “My childhood name,” Sheng Yi had said. “Only my mom calls me that. It’s my biggest secret. Don’t tell anyone.” Rong Yu had smiled. “Okay.”

Then, when they were twelve, Sheng Yi’s mother died of stomach cancer. That night, Sheng Yi sobbed under Rong Yu’s covers. “Xiao Yu… now you’re the only one who knows my secret. From now on… only you can call me that.”

…

Sheng Yi woke up, his lashes wet with tears. The voice from the dream lingered. He pulled on a coat and went down to the studio to paint.

Rong Yu, working on a medical paper, saw the light. He found Sheng Yi at the easel, adding highlights to a portrait. It was a woman with a warm smile—Sheng Yi’s mother.

…

The Art Exam: The day of the provincial exam arrived. Rong Yu checked Sheng Yi’s gear one last time. “Exam permit? ID? Pencils? Water bucket?”

“I’ve got it all,” Sheng Yi said. He felt a bit self-conscious being twenty-one among seventeen-year-olds, but in reality, he looked no different from them. If anything, he was more striking—his skin fair and healthy, his eyes bright with spirit.

Sheng Yi noticed several high school girls staring at Rong Yu (who was wearing a mask due to a slight cold). To distract himself from his nerves, he teased, “Xiao Yu, get back in the car. There are at least a hundred girls here who have a crush on you.”

A girl nearby waved at Sheng Yi. Before he could wave back, Rong Yu placed a hand on the back of his head and tucked him against his shoulder. The scent of laundry detergent and Rong Yu’s steady presence acted like a sedative, instantly calming Sheng Yi’s anxiety.

For the first time, to give Sheng Yi confidence, Rong Yu leaned into their “fake” marriage roles.

His voice, laced with doting warmth, came from above:

“Hubby, good luck on your exam.”