Chapter 27: Just Has to Be Taller

“Ah Xu, do you want to go out for a walk?”

Rong Du came out of the kitchen, his apron already unfastened, folded, and draped over the back of a chair as he rubbed his hands against his pants to dry off the remaining water droplets.

He walked over to the front of the sofa, looking down at Ji Xu who was nestled there, the glow of the phone screen reflecting on his face, bright and vivid.

Ji Xu looked up at him, his eyelids half-drooped, displaying a lazy state of being both full and sleepy.

“Ate too much,” he said sluggishly, gesturing over his belly with his hand, “don’t want to move. My stomach is almost bulging out.”

He looked down, lifted the hem of his T-shirt to glance at his flat abdomen, let it down again, and with absolute confidence tilted his head backward, leaning against the sofa back to look at Rong Du.

Rong Du circled behind the sofa, bent over, and reached both hands from behind Ji Xu to gently cup his chin.

Ji Xu was forced to tilt his head up, his face cradled by Rong Du’s palms, the upside-down perspective letting him see Rong Du’s face inverted—the arch of his brow bone, his drooping eyelashes, the slightly curved corners of his mouth, all reflected in his eyes from an angle completely different from usual.

Rong Du’s thumb brushed along Ji Xu’s jawline, lightly scraping from the tip of his chin along the curve of his cheekbones, his touch as gentle as petting some fluffy little animal.

“You really should eat more,” Rong Du said, his gaze earnestly examining Ji Xu’s face, “there’s barely any meat on Ah Xu’s face.”

Ji Xu wasn’t pleased.

He had just weighed himself two days ago, and he was clearly several pounds heavier than when he first arrived in Haicheng; when the numbers popped up on Yuan Hanfei’s electronic scale in the dorm, he had even been secretly delighted.

He sat up with a whoosh from the sofa, turned around to face Rong Du, and held out his hand to wave it in front of Rong Du, his fingers fanning out and closing back up: “Rong Du, your eyesight is terrible; I’ve clearly gotten a bit chubby. I weighed myself two days ago, and I’ve gained almost four pounds.”

“Is that so?”

Rong Du’s gaze shifted from his face to his waist, and then to his legs, carrying a deliberately unhurried, almost reassessing scrutiny.

Ji Xu felt a little uncomfortable under his gaze, puffed out his chest, and stood up straight.

Suddenly remembering something, his eyes lit up, and he stepped half a pace closer to Rong Du, standing as straight as he could—straightening his back, stretching his neck, his toes lifting slightly before settling back down; he didn’t want Rong Du to think he was cheating.

“Rong Du, don’t you think I’ve grown a bit taller?”

Ji Xu raised his chin to look at him; the two of them were originally similar in height, and when standing together normally, Ji Xu was only slightly shorter by a centimeter or two, but that was because he was used to slouching a bit.

Now that he pulled his spine completely straight, the top of his head was almost level with Rong Du’s line of sight.

Watching him stretch himself so earnestly, the curve at the corners of Rong Du’s mouth widened gradually: “Maybe you did grow a little taller.”

“What do you mean ‘maybe’?”

Ji Xu dissatisfiedly stepped half a pace closer again; the two of them were standing almost face-to-face, the distance between their foreheads less than a palm’s width.

“I clearly grew taller.”

His voice carried an inexplicable confidence, though where this confidence came from was anyone’s guess; either way, he felt he had definitely grown taller, and it was by no means an optical illusion caused by gaining weight.

“I think I’m definitely going to be taller than you,” he continued to emphasize, even raising his hand to gesture above his head, his fingertips stopping above Rong Du’s brow bone, “look, I’m already up to here on you now.”

Rong Du finally couldn’t hold back a laugh.

He lowered his eyes, playing along with Ji Xu’s words: “Yes, yes, yes, our Ah Xu has indeed grown taller.”

His tone carried a kind of indulgent coaxing meant for a child, paired with a smile he couldn’t hold back at all, clearly not believing a single word.

Ji Xu could naturally tell that Rong Du was giving him lip service, but he chose to pretend he didn’t notice.

He gave a haughty nod, his chin slightly raised as if he had just completed some solemn declaration, and then extended his arm to sling it around Rong Du’s shoulder, patting him on the shoulder with his palm.

“Let’s go,” Ji Xu said in a particularly good mood, “I’ll keep you company for a walk outside.”

Rong Du raised an eyebrow: “Who said they didn’t want to move just now?”

“Can’t I change my mind now?”

Ji Xu pushed him by the shoulders toward the door, casually grabbing his keys off the shoe cabinet and slipping them into his pocket.

The two of them put on their shoes and headed out; the voice-activated lights in the stairwell lit up, Ji Xu’s footsteps ringing crisply on the stairs as he followed right behind Rong Du going downstairs.

Downstairs, the twilight in the alley was thick.

In late July, night fell late in Haicheng, but by this time, the sky had already turned a shade bordering deep blue and purplish-red; the streetlights had just turned on, their dim yellow light illuminating the concrete pavement in a warm, cozy orange.

Rong Du tossed two bags of trash into the dumpster downstairs, clapped his hands, and walked back over.

Ji Xu was standing under a streetlight waiting for him; the light fell from above, enveloping his entire self in a soft glow, even illuminating the loose ends of his hair with delicate gold edges.

He waved at Rong Du, and the two of them walked side by side out along the street.

This old district had no high-rises; the street wasn’t wide, lined on both sides with two rows of sycamore trees of unknown age whose canopies intertwined overhead into a dense green shade, the streetlight shimmering through the gaps between leaves to draw dappled, swaying shadows on the ground.

Most of the shops along the street were still open; the sound of a TV echoed from a barbershop, elderly people sat on low stools at the entrance of a small supermarket waving cattail leaf fans, and hot steam surged out from the half-rolled shutter of a noodle shop, carrying the aroma of scallion oil and noodles.

Some people had set up a small table by the curb to play chess, the pieces clicking crisply against the chessboard, surrounded by a ring of neighbors watching the excitement.

Ji Xu walked past those people chatting in the cool evening breeze, his footsteps blending with their chatter and laughter, making this narrow street feel exceptionally warm and lively.

Passing by a fruit stand, Ji Xu stopped.

The watermelons on the stall were cut in half and sealed with plastic wrap, their red flesh looking juicy against the black seeds, while baskets alongside were piled high with lychees and grapes.

He picked out a bunch of grapes for the owner to weigh; when Rong Du reached out to take it, Ji Xu placed the grapes into the hand Rong Du was holding things with, while he himself ran off to the boba shop next door.

When he came out, he had two cups of boba in his hands—one room temperature, one with ice.

Ji Xu stuffed the room-temperature one into Rong Du’s free hand, while he himself bit the straw of the iced one and took a big gulp.

Walking another block forward, the fragrance of grilled fish drifted out from a small roadside shop; oil sizzled on the iron plate, the fish skin grilled to a golden, curling crisp, topped with a generous spread of minced garlic and chopped chili peppers.

Ji Xu stood frozen in front of the stall, unable to move his feet.

He tilted his head to watch for a moment, then turned around to blink his eyes at Rong Du.

Thus, another plastic bag ended up in Rong Du’s hand, containing a whole grilled fish sealed in a foil box.

He held fruit and boba in his left hand, and grilled fish in his right, both bags hanging fully loaded from his fingers.

He looked down at the fully loaded state of both his hands, and then looked at Ji Xu ahead, who was still looking around at the roadside stalls as he walked—Ji Xu was currently stopped in front of a small stall selling handmade candied haws, tilting his head to inspect the skewers of candied strawberries wrapped in sticky rice paper inside the glass cabinet.

“Didn’t you say at home that you ate too much?”

Rong Du caught up and stood behind Ji Xu, his tone carrying a accustomed helplessness.

“Yet here you are eating again.”

Ji Xu turned back to look at him, the straw of his boba still held between his lips.

Hearing this, he took the straw out of his mouth and said with complete justification: “Doesn’t going out for a walk burn energy?”

He used his free finger to point at his own legs, and then pointed in the direction the street extended.

“After walking such a long distance and burning energy, of course I have to replenish it through eating.”

He spoke with utter seriousness, as if this were some unbreakable scientific truth.

After finishing, he turned back around, pointing at the skewer of candied strawberries wrapped in sticky rice paper at the candied haw stall: “Boss, one skewer of this, please.”

Standing behind him, Rong Du watched Ji Xu take a bite of the candied haws.

The strawberry burst inside its crunchy sugar shell with a crisp sound; Ji Xu’s cheek puffed out for a moment before returning to normal, a fragment of transparent sugar coating clinging to the corner of his mouth.

Rong Du let out a sigh, shifted the bag of grilled fish from his right hand to hang from his left wrist, freeing up his right hand to pick off the sugar fragment from the side of Ji Xu’s mouth.

Ji Xu felt his finger touch the corner of his mouth and didn’t dodge; instead, he tilted his face slightly and lowered his head to take a second bite of strawberry.

The walk back took nearly forty minutes, taking a wide loop to curve back into the alley entrance from another street.

By the time Ji Xu reached the alley entrance, his pace had noticeably slowed down.

His light, brisk steps turned into a sluggish drag; he stopped to rub his knees and glanced at the building door leading up to the fifth floor, his expression clearly writing out the words “I don’t want to climb the stairs.”

He built up his courage for a few seconds, then turned sideways to look at Rong Du, extending both hands toward Rong Du without saying a word, yet that expression and gesture said everything.

Rong Du glanced at him, transferred all the bags in his hands to be held in one hand, and then bent down in front of Ji Xu, his knees slightly bent, his back flattened out.

“Hop on.”

Ji Xu climbed onto his back without standing on ceremony, wrapping both arms around Rong Du’s shoulders and resting his chin in the crook of his neck.

Rong Du hooked his arms beneath Ji Xu’s knees to lift him up, securing him tightly on his back, and then walked into the building door holding a hand full of items.

As the voice-activated light in the stairwell turned on, the shadow of Ji Xu lying on his back was cast onto the steps, their two figures merged into a single outline, moving slowly with the ascending footsteps.

“I told you not to eat so much,” Rong Du’s voice echoed slightly in the stairwell, his breathing turning slightly heavier from carrying the weight up the stairs, “now you can’t walk, can you?”

He lifted Ji Xu slightly higher to make sure he was resting securely on his back.

Ji Xu rested comfortably on Rong Du’s back, his calves swaying lightly at his sides.

His fingers shifted from Rong Du’s shoulders to the side of his ear, tugging gently on Rong Du’s earlobe and squeezing it lightly, the force very soft, like playing with some novel toy.

“What, do you not want to carry me?”

His voice was right next to Rong Du’s ear, his warm breath fluttering across the helix of Rong Du’s ear.

Rong Du’s pace didn’t stop, but he could feel Ji Xu’s breath sweeping across the skin behind his ear, carrying the sweet scent of boba and candied strawberries, mixed with the faint residual aroma of honey pheromones on him.

Rong Du stepped up another stair, his voice steady: “I never said I didn’t want to carry you.”

Ji Xu remained quiet on his back for a short stretch of the stairs.

He had actually realized it himself recently—he seemed to be getting more and more unrestrained around Rong Du.

Back in middle school when he followed behind Rong Du as a little sidekick, he had been quite sycophantic, listening to whatever Rong Du said, pouring tea, bringing water, running errands, and buying snacks; because Rong Du protected him, he had to curry favor with him.

Later on, during the three years of high school when they barely stayed in touch, although he still held this person in his heart, that habit of “a henchman catering to the boss” had faded.

After coming to Haicheng, Rong Du was simply too good to him—so good that he didn’t need to curry favor or perform; as long as he was there, Rong Du would bring all the best things right in front of him.

And so Ji Xu discovered he was growing more and more willful—eating whatever he wanted, lying on the sofa whenever he pleased, asking for piggyback rides when he was too tired to walk, and even brazenly pulling the other’s ear to ask if he didn’t want to carry him.

He hadn’t been like this before; in the past, he was always afraid of being a burden to others.

Yet in front of Rong Du, he seemed to slowly strip away that shell of “fearing to be a burden,” exposing the truer, spoiled part of himself inside.

While he was lost in these thoughts, Rong Du had already carried him up to the landing between the fourth and fifth floors.

His voice sounded extra clear in the quieted stairwell, carrying slight huffs from climbing the stairs, yet every word was steady: “I can carry Little Pretty Ji for a lifetime.”

Ji Xu’s face, buried against his shoulder, snapped upward, the tips of his ears burning as if scorched by something hot.

He buried his face back into Rong Du’s shoulder, the tip of his nose pressed against the skin of Rong Du’s nape, his voice coming out muffled from the crook of the neck: “What are you talking about…”

His fingers unconsciously tightened around the fabric of Rong Du’s shoulder, his knuckles clenching and releasing, his ears burning hot.

Rong Du didn’t turn back to look at him; he simply carried him across the final step, stopping at the door to adjust him upward so he wouldn’t slide down.

Then Rong Du freed a hand to fish out the keys from his pocket, inserted them into the lock, and turned—the door opened.

The stairwell fell into a brief moment of quiet, leaving only the breathing of the two and the faint sounds of traffic from the street in the distance.

Carrying Ji Xu, Rong Du stepped through the door, bent down, and set him down to sit on the shoe cabinet by the entrance; Ji Xu’s feet dangled in midair, the tips of his ears still red.

Rong Du stood before him, looking up at him, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair hanging over Ji Xu’s forehead behind his ear, his fingertips lightly brushing past his cheekbones, saying nothing.

Ji Xu sat on the shoe cabinet looking at him, his lips moving as if wanting to say something to break this overly quiet atmosphere, but his mouth opened and closed again.

In the end, he said nothing at all, jumping down from the shoe cabinet and padding into the room in his slippers; after taking two steps, he turned back to glance.

Rong Du was bending over to straighten out his shoes, his movements casual and natural, as if that phrase “carry you for a lifetime” had just been a casual remark.

Yet Ji Xu knew it wasn’t; he knew very clearly in his heart that it was no casual phrase.

The tips of his ears were still burning hot even now, his fingers curled into his palms, his fingernails lightly scraping his palms.

He turned into the living room, buried his face into the sofa throw pillow, and let out a long, deep breath.

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