Nanke Yifu Chapter 7
bySeeking Chi Fu (7)
Chi Fu originally intended to call Yan Laixi directly, but felt that calling the full three-character name was a bit awkward. Calling him Nanke was also fine; after all, Nanke was the name he first knew him by.
His meal with Yan Laixi was on a Sunday, with only six days separating them until their next meeting. For the first three days, Chi Fu was immersed in the joy of having eaten with Yan Laixi, exchanged contact information, and added him as a friend. For the latter three days, Chi Fu was immersed in the joy of seeing Yan Laixi again soon.
To what extent was he immersed?
Spring had arrived for the year, and this week, almost every slightly familiar classmate believed that the spring of Chi Fu’s life had also arrived.
As for Yan Laixi, it was a different scene entirely.
The other party hadn’t discussed where they should meet this weekend. Was he waiting for him to reach out? Or did he simply not want to keep the appointment?
The reality was that Chi Fu was so focused on his excitement that he completely forgot they had only set a time but not a location. Yan Laixi spent his days clutching his phone, waiting for a message, but the red dot never appeared next to the avatar that had recently popped up in his friends list.
On Saturday night, Yan Laixi nervously sent a message to Chi Fu.
“Are you free tomorrow? I’ll give you the charm we talked about last time. Where should we meet?”
The moment the message was sent, the reply was an instant “!”, followed by a rapid-fire string of messages. The typing speed was probably faster than Yan Laixi’s, who typed on a keyboard every day.
“I forgot we hadn’t set a location!”
“Are you free all day tomorrow?”
“Should we go out? Or should I come to your place to pick it up?”
“It’s supposed to rain tomorrow afternoon, so remember to bring an umbrella if we go out.”
“I just remembered too,” Yan Laixi replied, stretching the truth. “I don’t have anything else planned for tomorrow.”
It will rain tomorrow…
Yan Laixi looked around, then got up and walked through his house, inspecting every room.
It was acceptable, reasonably tidy. Cleaning up for one night would definitely make it suitable for hosting a guest tomorrow.
He typed and deleted a line of text, and combined with his walk around the house, it took about two minutes before the message was finally sent.
“How about you come to my place?”
The reply was still instantaneous: “Sounds good.”
The chat box had been quiet for the past two minutes, and Yan Laixi thought he had gone to do something else.
“What time should I come? And where is it?”
Yan Laixi sent a string of addresses, precise down to the house number.
“If you can’t find it tomorrow, I’ll come down and meet you,” he said. He thought for a moment and asked, “Is 11 AM okay?”
For someone who had a perpetually Reversed Day-Night Cycle and usually slept around six or seven in the morning, this time was already very early. Any earlier would mean staying up all night.
Chi Fu replied with an “OK” emoji and said he would see him tomorrow. The chat box fell silent again.
That night, Yan Laixi on his side of the screen gave his house a thorough cleaning, inside and out, ensuring every corner was spotless. Chi Fu on his side of the screen rummaged through his wardrobe and spent an hour pre-styling his hair in front of the mirror. Everyone wants to appear in front of the other person looking their best, whether it’s for a few hours or just a few seconds or minutes.
Joy and anticipation always make one giddy. Yan Laixi, whose body ached from doing housework, took a shower, set his alarm, and collapsed onto the bed, falling asleep without even drying his hair. Naturally, he didn’t remember to check the refrigerator. Not long after, Chi Fu woke up three hours earlier than planned, sat on his bed, stared blankly for five minutes, got up, washed up, spent over an hour making himself presentable, checked himself in the mirror for ten minutes, and then stood still, staring blankly for another five minutes. Unable to wait any longer, he decided to leave early.
He went out for breakfast first, eating the meal more meticulously than embroidery for fear of staining his clothes. When he checked the time afterward, it was still very early.
It truly seemed like fate connected them. He and Yan Laixi lived in adjacent city districts. Forget the Maglev Transit; they didn’t even need the underground passage. The Transit Rail could get him there, though he would need to transfer.
Chi Fu actually preferred taking the Transit Rail; it was more fun. He could also switch to comfort mode and use it purely as transportation, but as someone who habitually treated the Transit Rail as an amusement ride, he was psychologically worried about messing up his carefully styled appearance.
Yan Laixi’s home was easy to find. Emerging from the underground, a short walk straight ahead led to the apartment complex where he lived. Following the saved address on his phone, Chi Fu easily found himself standing in front of Yan Laixi’s door. The time had just reached 9:43 AM.
Yan Laixi was probably still asleep.
Chi Fu tried to look casual yet dignified as he leaned against the wall, fiddling with his phone. He noticed the visitor log recorder on Yan Laixi’s door. The other party would immediately see that he had arrived once he woke up. He had originally planned to wander around aimlessly for a while and then pretend to have just arrived when it was time to knock, but now it seemed unnecessary.
No need to pretend he hadn’t been there, but there was a need to put on a show.
Chi Fu hoped that when Yan Laixi woke up, seeing Chi Fu on the screen would, if not make his eyes light up, at least be a good start to the day for him.
When the alarm woke Yan Laixi, seeing the person standing outside the door did indeed make his eyes light up. Not just his eyes, but his mind lit up too—like a bolt of lightning striking, leaving nothing but a bright blankness.
He distinctly remembered setting his alarm for 10 AM! Why was he making the guest wait outside!
Yan Laixi didn’t even care about his appearance, rolling out of bed and running to open the door without even putting on slippers.
“I’m sorry, I just woke up, that…” He was flustered, apologizing and grabbing slippers, until he told Chi Fu to sit down anywhere while he plunged into the bathroom. Chi Fu didn’t manage to get a single word in.
Yan Laixi looked at himself in the mirror: sleepy-eyed, hair like a bird’s nest, barefoot, and his pajama collar half-open. He buried his face in his hands, feeling too embarrassed to go out and face anyone.
On the other side of the wall, Chi Fu thought differently.
So this was what the real, private Yan Laixi was like. He would also panic and forget to wear shoes, speak incoherently, and sleep with messy hair. He wasn’t like the person sitting behind a desk, whose demeanor was proper, speech elegant, and delicate face always wore a perfect smile.
He tapped lightly on the bathroom door with his knuckles and asked, “Can I step into your bedroom? I saw you were barefoot just now. I’ll bring your shoes over.”
“Yes, go ahead, make yourself at home.”
Yan Laixi’s voice came through the door, slightly muffled. Just as Chi Fu turned around, the door separating them was opened from the other side.
“No, no, I’ll get them myself. Wait for me, I’ll be right back.” Yan Laixi came out, skirted around Chi Fu, quickly ran to the bedroom to put on shoes, and then ran back to shut himself in the bathroom again.
Three minutes later, a tidy and alert Yan Laixi emerged, returning to the familiar appearance Chi Fu knew.
“I apologize, how long have you been waiting outside?” he asked Chi Fu apologetically. He took out the fruit tea he had bought temporarily yesterday, brewed it with warm water set to a constant temperature last night, and placed it on the coffee table along with the sugar bowl.
“Just ten minutes or so.” The log recorder showed the time, so there was no point in minimizing it. Chi Fu took the teacup and showed Yan Laixi the time on his phone. “Besides, I came too early. You didn’t oversleep.”
Seeing the numbers before the two vertically aligned dots were a one and a zero, Yan Laixi visibly relaxed. “I thought I set the alarm wrong…”
“It wouldn’t matter if you did. It’s just a little wait,” Chi Fu said. “It’s spring now, the temperature is perfect, neither cold nor hot.”
“It does matter,” Yan Laixi countered. “I made you travel all the way to my house, and I overslept. That’s unacceptable… Ah! Wait a moment.”
Chi Fu had just brought the cup to his lips when Yan Laixi stopped him.
He opened the sugar bowl he had brought over, turning the spoon handle toward Chi Fu, and said, “That tea is sour. It tastes better with some sugar.”
Chi Fu held the cup with both hands, looking up at Yan Laixi. “How much should I put in?”
“I’m not sure,” Yan Laixi said. He had just bought it last night and only tried it once. Besides, everyone’s taste was different. “I put in quite a bit last time. You can add it little by little and stop when you think it’s right.”
Chi Fu: “Why don’t you add it first? I want to see roughly how much I should put in.”
Although the measuring spoon was small, when Chi Fu saw Yan Laixi scoop the third heaping spoon of white sugar into the cup, he still asked, “Won’t that be too sweet?”
Yan Laixi switched spoons, stirred the tea in the cup, tasted it, and said, “No, it could use a little more.”
“It’s fine if you add too much sugar,” he said, pointing to the teapot on the counter. “If it’s too sweet, add tea; if it’s too sour, add sugar.”
Chi Fu was skeptical about the “not too sweet” claim, but he still scooped three heaping spoons of sugar into his own cup, stirred it, and took a sip.
It really could use a little more! It seemed his and Yan Laixi’s tastes were similar, at least in their judgment of sweetness.
“Why did you set an alarm?” Chi Fu asked. Setting an alarm for 10 AM when they agreed to meet at 11 AM didn’t seem like someone afraid of oversleeping. “It’s fine if you can’t get up early. I have nothing planned all day anyway.”
“If you come earlier, you can stay longer,” Yan Laixi said, then asked Chi Fu, “Have you eaten?”
Chi Fu nodded mechanically. Yan Laixi said, “Then I’ll just prepare my own food,” and headed toward the kitchen.
Yan Laixi said he could stay longer if he came early, and he asked if he had eaten.
This meant that Yan Laixi had genuinely invited him over as a guest, not just to hand over a charm and leave!
This meant that, to Yan Laixi, he was someone who could come over to hang out at his house.
This realization made Chi Fu incredibly happy. The manifestation of this happiness was that the person in question followed Yan Laixi around like a puppy, bouncing along wherever he went.
Thus, Chi Fu witnessed the entire process of Yan Laixi making food for himself.
Yes, food. Not even the thickest filter was enough for Chi Fu to call that stuff “a meal.” It was, at most, a substance that could maintain human vital signs.
Since he was eating alone, Yan Laixi couldn’t be bothered to cook properly. He took out leftover fried rice from the fridge—which was just rice, eggs, and soy sauce dumped into a pan and stirred until scattered, looking incredibly unappetizing, with a taste as dismal as its appearance—poured it into the pan, turned on the heat, and stirred it a couple of times. Seeing it looked a bit dry, he turned around, added some water, and poured it in.
Then, he simply used a spoon to scoop it onto the previous plate and started eating next to the stove. He didn’t notice Chi Fu following him to the doorway at some point.
Chi Fu, who was stunned, finally spoke up: “Brother, how about I cook you a proper meal?”
Perhaps the morning’s chaos had already ruined the image he originally wanted to maintain, because Yan Laixi was quite candid now, even having the presence of mind to ask Chi Fu, “Why are you calling me ‘Brother’ again?”
“I was a bit stunned, my brain didn’t catch up,” Chi Fu leaned closer, looked at the contents of the plate, and couldn’t help but frown. “Does that even taste good?”
“No, it doesn’t,” Yan Laixi answered straightforwardly. “But it’s easy. Since it’s just me eating, as long as it doesn’t kill me, it’s fine.”
“Not killing you isn’t enough,” Chi Fu said, pointing to the refrigerator. “Can I see what you have in your fridge? If you find it troublesome, I’ll cook for you. Eating is very important. It’s not just about not being hungry; it affects both health and mood.”
“You can look, but you really don’t have to,” Yan Laixi said. “Lunch will be soon. I’ll definitely cook a good lunch. It’s just one meal.”
“You’ll only cook well for the next meal, right? Because I’m here.” Chi Fu sighed and said, “How about I come over every day to mooch off your meals? I’ll be your chef, just needing food in return.”
“Sounds great,” Yan Laixi said with a smile. “But I doubt you’ll want to come after two days.”
“Why?” Chi Fu asked.
“Because I’m a picky eater,” Yan Laixi said. “I won’t eat this or that. Cooking for me is a hassle.”
Chi Fu retorted, “You’re picky, but you’re not picky about this stuff that clearly can’t taste good?”
“It’s different,” Yan Laixi explained. “The ingredients and cooking methods I eat, no matter how bad they taste, won’t turn into a flavor I won’t eat.”
“That’s something we non-picky eaters can’t understand. Well, let me see what we’re having for lunch.” Chi Fu stared at Yan Laixi with what amounted to a warning look. “Let’s agree now: I’m cooking lunch.”
“No problem,” Yan Laixi agreed readily. “I don’t like cooking anyway.”
Yan Laixi’s cooking wasn’t actually bad; he could even make some seemingly exquisite small desserts, provided he was willing to put in the effort. When he was the only one eating, that premise usually wasn’t met. Since Chi Fu was here today, Yan Laixi had planned to cook a rare good meal if they didn’t order takeout, but since the other party was willing to cook, he was happy to relax.
Chi Fu opened the refrigerator. As expected, he didn’t see a single green leaf.
That wasn’t entirely accurate, because Yan Laixi’s fridge contained one sprouted potato, which was the only thing that counted as a vegetable.
Looking at the rest, the garlic was sprouted, the ginger was shriveled, there was no scallion or spices, and the starch was unopened.
Chi Fu asked Yan Laixi, “Do you order takeout often?”
“It’s alright. Not every day, but quite a bit.” In the time they talked, Yan Laixi had already shoveled down the plate of fried rice in two bites and put the plate and pan in the sink to wash. “What’s wrong?”
“That’s great,” Chi Fu said. “Eat more takeout. It’s healthy.”
He closed the fridge and asked Yan Laixi, “Is there a supermarket nearby? I need to buy some groceries. Your fridge is full of instant and semi-finished foods, except for the meat.”
“Ah…” Yan Laixi scratched his chin. He knew he had forgotten something when he bought the fruit tea yesterday! He forgot to prepare ingredients!
“There’s one if you go around the back,” Yan Laixi said. “Shall we go together?”
“Sure, now?” Chi Fu glanced at his watch. “It will take time to prepare the ingredients when we get back. Now should be about right.”
“Then I’ll go change.”
Chi Fu was wearing a faux two-piece shirt today, sleeves rolled up, accessories on his wrist, and an irregular plaid skirt that was short in the front and long on the sides decorating the space between his shirt hem and trousers, giving him a very youthful look. To match him, Yan Laixi chose a loose-fitting shirt with a thin knit vest over it, loose trousers, and thick-soled ankle boots. He wasn’t much older than Chi Fu, and standing side by side, they looked like classmates out together during a holiday.
“What do you want to eat?” Chi Fu asked Yan Laixi, with a hint of pride in his tone. “I can make anything you want. I know so many dishes, and I can learn anything I don’t know right now.”
If he couldn’t learn it immediately, he could go back and study it slowly, ready for the next opportunity to bring it to Yan Laixi. Chi Fu already had a new goal: first, to make Yan Laixi fall in love with his cooking; second, to find excuses to cook for Yan Laixi often; and finally, to thoroughly spoil this person’s palate, making him completely abandon his purely sustenance-based cooking methods.
“Anything?” Yan Laixi asked. “Even things that are troublesome to make?”
“Of course. It’s still early. There’s time to make anything you want,” Chi Fu joked. “Unless you ask me to carve a plate of flowers for you, that might take too long.”
“Then I want fish,” Yan Laixi said, gesturing. “Grilled or steamed is fine, the kind with just one large bone in the middle.”
“No problem,” Chi Fu said. “We’ll ask them to prepare it when we buy it, so it won’t be troublesome to take back.”
“Really?” Yan Laixi was delighted. It had been a long time since he had eaten good fish. “I actually really like that kind of fish, but I don’t know how to cook it myself, and I usually don’t order it for takeout, so I rarely get to eat it.”
“Then you can try my cooking today. If you like it, just call me to make it for you next time you want it,” Chi Fu said. “What else do you want to eat? My goal today is to be promoted to your private, exclusive chef.”
“Only cooking for me?” Yan Laixi smiled. “That’s a great honor, but you don’t have to focus only on me.”
“Focusing on you is enough. I’m not a picky eater,” Chi Fu said, glancing again at Yan Laixi’s wrists and neck exposed outside his clothes. Ever since seeing the man’s breakfast, he felt he looked excessively thin. “I need to feed you as much as possible. Look how skinny you are.”
Yan Laixi looked down at himself. Through the loose clothing, he wondered what Chi Fu could possibly see. “Am I?”
“What do you mean, ‘Am I’?” Chi Fu held out his own wrist next to Yan Laixi’s. Although the difference wasn’t huge, it was clear that Yan Laixi’s wrist was thinner and more bony. “My wrist is already considered thin, and yours is even thinner than mine!”
“Mine is just fine-boned,” Yan Laixi countered. As he spoke, his eyes suddenly lit up. He pointed to one side and said to Chi Fu, “I want that!”