Chapter 1: Arrival in Haicheng

Haicheng in July was like a steamer; even the air felt thick and sticky.

As Ji Xu squeezed out of the railway station exit dragging his luggage, the T-shirt on his back was already soaked, clinging thinly to his shoulder blades.

Surrounding him was a dense crowd—labors shouldering woven bags, tour guides waving tiny flags, and young parents holding their children by the hand.

The clamor of voices merged with the heat wave, roaring ceaselessly into his ears.

He paused, using the back of his hand to wipe the sweat from his temple, and then immediately caught sight of Rong Du.

Rong Du was standing under a crooked plane tree near the exit, wearing a faded blue short-sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his shoulders, exposing his solid forearms.

He had grown taller since middle school, but his facial features remained unchanged—the same clean, sharp contours, dark eyebrows, and bright, clear eyes.

He was standing on tiptoes scanning the crowd, and the moment his gaze swept over, it locked straight onto Ji Xu.

Then he smiled and waved his hand vigorously.

Ji Xu felt his heart skip a sudden beat.

Dragging his suitcase, he stumbled through the crowd, its wheels clattering loudly against the tiled floor.

Running up to Rong Du, he hardly thought twice before throwing himself forward to embrace him.

Rong Du carried a faint scent of laundry detergent mixed with a touch of sweat, but it wasn’t unpleasant.

Burying his face into Rong Du’s shoulder, Ji Xu mumbled softly, “Rong Du, I missed you so damn much.”

“I missed you too, Pretty Little Ji,” Rong Du’s voice sounded from above, laced with a warm laugh.

Then a hand pinched Ji Xu’s cheek.

Thin calluses on his fingertips felt slightly rough as they grazed the skin.

“Still the same feel as before—so soft.”

Ji Xu jerked his head up and clamped his hand over Rong Du’s mouth.

The tips of his ears burned intensely, and he instinctively glanced around.

Thankfully, it was crowded enough that no one was paying attention to them.

Lowering his voice, he forced the words out almost through gritted teeth: “Don’t call me that.”

Rong Du’s eyes crinkled in amusement, his eyelashes brushing against Ji Xu’s palm with a ticklish sensation.

Pulling Ji Xu’s hand down, he transitioned from a pinch into a hold, interlocking his fingers with Ji Xu’s: “What, embarrassed? I’ve been calling you that for years.”

“That was different.”

Ji Xu turned his face away, watching as Rong Du reached out with his other free hand and naturally took over the luggage handle.

“I was young back then…”

“You’re not exactly old now either.”

Rong Du looked him up and down with a teasing glint in his eyes.

“Still so thin. Have you been eating properly these past few years? Did anyone bully you in high school?”

Ji Xu walked along with him toward the roadside, momentarily startled by the question.

High school… actually, no one had bullied him.

When freshman year just started, a few troublemakers did see how small and lean he was and tried to cause trouble.

However, once the results of the first monthly exam came out and he placed third in the grade, his homeroom teacher—a middle-aged Beta—patted his shoulder and declared publicly in class: “Student Ji Xu may be small in stature, but he has immense power. If any of you dare to pick on him, come answer to me first.”

From then on, he consistently stayed in the top five for every exam and won several awards in academic competitions.

Gradually, no one entertained those thoughts anymore.

Besides, he was an Alpha after all.

Even if he didn’t look the part, if a fight ever broke out, the physical advantage of an Alpha was undeniable, and nobody wanted to invite trouble.

Yet as those thoughts circled through his mind, Ji Xu kept them to himself.

He merely offered a quiet hum of acknowledgment.

Rong Du didn’t press further either.

Leading him to an electric scooter parked by the curb, he patted the back seat: “Hop on, let’s head home.”

The scooter was a very ordinary model in deep blue, its seat covered with a layer of sun-reflective silver cloth.

Rong Du placed the suitcase horizontally on the footrest, clamping it between his legs, before turning back to gesture with his chin toward Ji Xu.

Ji Xu straddled the back seat, hesitated for a moment, and reached out to grasp the fabric at Rong Du’s waist.

“Hold on tight.”

Rong Du twisted the throttle, and the scooter surged forward with a hum.

The wind instantly rushed past, lifting the damp wisps of hair on Ji Xu’s forehead.

The cityscape began to retreat, the plane trees on both sides merging into a green blur, with occasional rays of sunlight breaking through the leaves and flickering against his eyelids.

He quietly tilted his face, his chin almost resting on Rong Du’s shoulder.

Behind Rong Du’s neck was a small mole, tanned to a soft light brown by the sun.

The ride from the train station to Rong Du’s place took about twenty minutes.

The scooter turned into a narrow alley lined with old-style residential buildings.

Their exterior walls were clad in small white tiles, peeling off in places to reveal the gray concrete beneath.

A few dust-covered tricycles were parked downstairs, and in the corner, elderly residents sat on small wooden stools waving cattail fans.

Rong Du pulled up in front of one building, locked the scooter to the iron railing, picked up the luggage, and walked into the stairwell.

“Fifth floor, no elevator. Can you manage?”

Rong Du looked back at him.

“I’m not made of paper.”

Ji Xu followed him, stepping onto the first stair.

The stairwell was dimly lit, the walls covered in various small advertisements, and the edges of the steps were worn smooth and shiny.

He counted the floors.

Turning the corner at the fourth floor, he caught the appetizing aroma of home cooking wafting from someone’s apartment—it was the scent of stir-fried shredded pork with green peppers.

As Rong Du pulled out his keys to unlock the door, Ji Xu stood behind him, gazing at his back.

Rong Du’s shoulders were noticeably broader than in middle school, and a thin sheen of sweat on his nape glowed faintly in the light filtering through the stairwell window.

The key inserted into the lock with a crisp click.

“Come on in.”

Rong Du pushed the door open and stepped aside to let him in.

The rented apartment was indeed compact—just one bedroom and a living room.

In the living room sat an old sofa draped with a blue-and-white checkered cover.

On the coffee table stood an enamel mug holding a few small, unnamed purple wildflowers.

There wasn’t much furniture, but everything was kept meticulously clean, the floor mopped until it almost reflected figures.

The window was open, a gentle breeze billowing the white curtains into the shape of sails.

Standing in the middle of the living room, Ji Xu looked around, feeling an instant wave of tranquility settle over his heart.

This was far better than he had imagined.

Growing up, he had always lived in eight-person dormitories with squeaky iron bunk beds, broken locker locks, and someone snoring loudly in the middle of the night.

Small as Rong Du’s place was, it belonged entirely to the two of them.

Rong Du wheeled his suitcase into the bedroom.

The bedroom wasn’t large either, with a double bed occupying most of the space.

On the nightstand sat a desk lamp and a book.

Leaning the suitcase against the corner, Rong Du turned back with a smile: “Looks like I’ll have to trouble my Pretty Little friend to share a room with me.”

“It’s totally fine, this is already wonderful.”

Ji Xu stepped inside, running his fingers over the bedsheet.

It was light gray, freshly washed, carrying the exact same detergent scent as Rong Du.

Suddenly remembering something, he added, “You take the bed, I can just sleep on the floor.”

“What nonsense are you talking about?”

Rong Du walked over, flicking him playfully on the forehead.

“The bed is plenty big—can’t two grown men share it? Besides, you hardly take up any space.”

Ji Xu opened his mouth, wanting to retort ‘I am an Alpha after all,’ but looking into Rong Du’s eyes, the words dissolved.

He nodded with a quiet ‘mhm’.

“Alright, unpack a bit first,” Rong Du turned toward the kitchen.

“I’ll go cook us something. You must be hungry, right? I bet you didn’t eat properly on the train.”

Ji Xu was indeed hungry.

From leaving this morning until now, he had only nibbled half a piece of bread.

But he didn’t say so, merely watching Rong Du’s silhouette disappear into the kitchen doorway before kneeling down to unzip his luggage.

There wasn’t much inside the suitcase—a few summer clothes, two pairs of shoes, a stack of books, and a picture frame wrapped in an old towel.

He took out the frame, wiped away imaginary dust, and placed it gently on the nightstand.

The photo was taken on the day they graduated from middle school.

The two of them stood under the large scholar tree at the school gate; Rong Du had an arm wrapped around his shoulder, while Ji Xu looked smaller and thinner than now, still with a bit of baby fat, smiling into the camera until his eyes narrowed into crescents.

Rhythmical chopping sounds rang out from the kitchen.

Ji Xu took out his clothes one by one, folded them neatly, and placed them into an empty compartment of the wardrobe.

It was a simple fabric wardrobe with a sticky zipper.

He had to tug a few times before it opened.

Inside hung several of Rong Du’s clothes—equally simple T-shirts and jeans, arranged neatly.

Just as he was folding his last T-shirt, Rong Du’s voice called from the kitchen: “Axu, come help me peel some garlic.”

Ji Xu responded and walked into the kitchen.

The kitchen was even smaller than the living room, barely big enough for two people to turn around.

Rong Du stood with his back to him before the stove, spatula in hand, as the pan sizzled with eggs hitting hot oil.

On the cutting board lay sliced tomatoes, bright red, their juices seeping out to soak the board.

“Garlic is in the basket,” Rong Du gestured with his chin toward the side.

Ji Xu took two cloves of garlic from the bamboo basket and peeled them by the sink.

The dry skin peeled off effortlessly under his fingers, revealing smooth, white cloves beneath.

A sudden sense of surrealism washed over him.

Just a few hours ago, he was sitting stranded in the waiting room of a small-town railway station, staring blankly at the flickering train schedules on the screen, surrounded by strangers and buzzing announcements.

Now, he was standing in this cozy little kitchen, listening to the sizzle of the frying pan, smelling the sweet-and-sour aroma of tomatoes bursting in hot oil, with Rong Du right beside him.

Rong Du scooped the fried tomatoes and eggs onto a plate, poured a bit more oil into the pan, and prepared for the next dish.

Glancing sideways at Ji Xu, he suddenly reached out and brushed his cheek: “Got a bit of garlic skin on you.”

Ji Xu didn’t pull away.

Rong Du’s fingers lingered on his face for just a fraction of a second before retracting, indeed holding a tiny piece of dried garlic skin.

Placing the peeled cloves into a bowl, Ji Xu asked, “What else needs to be done?”

“Stir-fried shredded pork with green peppers—your absolute favorite back then.” Rong Du retrieved green peppers and a piece of lean pork from the fridge.

“Go sit outside and wait, the kitchen is hot.”

Ji Xu didn’t leave.

He leaned against the kitchen doorframe, watching Rong Du slice the meat.

Rong Du had impressive knife skills, slicing the pork into uniform strips and the green peppers to equal width.

His profile was illuminated in soft light by the small lamp over the stove, his eyelashes casting a delicate shadow beneath his eyes.

“Rong Du,” Ji Xu suddenly spoke.

“Hmm?”

“It’s nothing,” Ji Xu pursed his lips.

“Just… thank you.”

Rong Du’s chopping paused briefly before resuming, though the corners of his lips curled upward: “Thank me for what? Go clear the table, dinner’s ready in a minute.”

Ji Xu turned and walked to the living room, moving the purple wildflowers from the coffee table to the windowsill, then taking the enamel mug to the kitchen to wash it clean.

By the time he returned, Rong Du was already walking out carrying the dishes.

Two dishes and one soup: stir-fried tomatoes with eggs, stir-fried shredded pork with green peppers, and seaweed egg drop soup—simple, home-cooked food steaming with inviting warmth.

Rong Du dished out a heaped bowl of rice for him.

As Ji Xu took the bowl, the comforting blend of rice and cooked dishes wafted over, suddenly making his nose feel a bit prickled with emotion.

He lowered his head and took a bite of the shredded pork and green pepper.

The meat was tender, infused with the mild spiciness of the peppers—tasting exactly like his memories.

“Is it good?” Rong Du sat across from him, holding his chin in his hand and watching him, not having picked up his own chopsticks yet.

Ji Xu nodded, his mouth full of food, letting out a muffled ‘mhm’.

Rong Du smiled, reaching across to gently ruffle his hair: “Eat slowly, don’t choke.”

Outside the window, the sky gradually darkened as the orange-red sunset glow slanted through the glass, resting gently upon the edge of the coffee table and soft across Rong Du’s side profile.

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