Chapter 7: Pretty Hands Aren’t Meant for Dishes

On the evening he received his wages, Ji Xu stared at the balance on his phone in a daze.

After working a summer job for over two months, he had saved less than six thousand yuan, but to Ji Xu, this was already a significant sum.

On the day he left, Old Liu gave him an extra fifty yuan, saying he had done well on his last day, and stuffed two skewers of grilled chicken wings into his hands for the walk home.

Chu Siran was quite generous as well.

When Ji Xu managed to make him happy, he would occasionally send red envelopes.

Altogether, those bits and pieces added up to several thousand yuan.

Ji Xu thought to himself that if Chu Siran sent any more, he might actually succumb to corruption.

During the final ten days before the school semester began, he gave himself a vacation.

He no longer had to rush to the shop at five o’clock every afternoon to stand until dawn, nor did he have to endure the oil smoke that made it impossible to open his eyes, or listen to the harsh scraping sound of iron skewers turning over the charcoal grill.

He slept exceptionally deeply that first night.

Perhaps the string in his heart that had been pulled taut for so long had finally slackened.

He slept straight through until the sun was high in the sky, with the light seeping through the gaps in the curtains warming his eyelids.

Ji Xu was baked awake by Rong Du’s body heat.

He turned over groggily, his consciousness still hovering on the edge of sleep, but his body reacted first, nuzzling toward that source of warmth.

His forehead pressed against something warm and soft.

Buried in it, his nose caught the familiar scent of laundry detergent alongside a faint, clean fragrance that belonged solely to Rong Du.

Extending his arm, he naturally placed it across Rong Du’s waist, curling into that embrace like a cat that had found a heater.

Rong Du did not move.

In truth, he had been awake for a while, opening his eyes at first light.

Seeing Ji Xu beside him sleeping blissfully unaware, he hadn’t had the heart to get up.

Lying on his side, he had propped himself up on an elbow and watched Ji Xu for a long time.

He watched the boy’s eyelashes cast tiny fan-shaped shadows beneath his eyes, watched the subtle twitch of his nose, and watched his chest rise and fall with every breath.

Later, he simply lay flat and extended his arm, waiting for Ji Xu to lean over on his own.

After waiting for about twenty minutes, that fluffy head indeed nudged its way over—first his forehead pressed against Rong Du’s shoulder, and then his entire body rolled into his arm.

Ji Xu’s face was buried near the crook of Rong Du’s neck, his warm breath softly brushing against his collarbone.

Lowering his head, Rong Du rubbed his nose against the top of Ji Xu’s head, catching that now thoroughly familiar scent of honey.

After a night of sleep, the pheromone scent was richer than during the day—warm, sweet, and constantly seeping from the gland at the back of Ji Xu’s neck, dyeing the surrounding air as sweet and rich as honey.

Resting his chin on top of Ji Xu’s head, Rong Du tightened his arms and pulled him closer into his chest.

This action brought a feeling of indescribable satisfaction surging into his heart, as if something long vacant had finally been filled.

Ji Xu lingered in his arms for a few more minutes before slowly, very slowly, waking up.

His voice still carried the soft, nasal tone of someone who had just woken up, echoing muffled from against Rong Du’s chest: “Are you not working today?”

“Mhm.”

Rong Du placed his hand on Ji Xu’s back, feeling the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric of his T-shirt.

“The company is moving, so we have a few days off.”

“Oh…”

Ji Xu trailed off, nuzzling against Rong Du’s chest once more.

Then, as if suddenly coming to his senses, he snapped his eyes open and shrank backward.

He raised his head.

His face was still flushed red, but his eyes were clear, blinking twice as if he hadn’t even realized how he had just slithered into someone else’s arms.

He pushed Rong Du’s arm away, turned over and sat up, the blanket sliding down his shoulders to reveal a slightly rumpled collar.

He rubbed his eyes, ran a hand through his bedhead, stepped barefoot onto the floor, and walked straight to the bathroom without looking back.

Rong Du lay on the bed, his arm still suspended in the air in that hugging posture, his fingertips still carrying the residual warmth of Ji Xu’s back and that lingering honey scent.

He watched Ji Xu’s back disappear into the bathroom doorway, heard the splashing sound of the tap being turned on inside, and slowly lowered his hand.

Curling his fingers, he pinched his own knuckles as if trying to grasp something that had already slipped away.

Staring at the ceiling for a few seconds, he let out a sigh, threw off the blanket, got out of bed, and shuffled into the kitchen in his slippers.

When the noodles were tossed into the pot, the gurgling sound of boiling water filled the entire room.

Rong Du chopped some green onions and fried two eggs.

He added light soy sauce, sesame oil, and a splash of vinegar to the noodle soup.

The fragrance quickly drifted out, sliding past the door crack and into the bathroom.

Halfway through brushing his teeth, Ji Xu’s nose twitched.

He quickened his pace, rinsed his mouth, wiped his face, and rushed out.

Pulling out a chair, he sat down at the dining table.

Rong Du brought out two bowls of noodles—one had a bit more noodles topped with a whole fried egg, while the other had slightly less with a punctured egg, its golden yolk oozing out from the cut and melting into the broth.

Ji Xu received the bowl with the intact fried egg.

Lowering his head, he slurped up a mouthful of noodle soup, hissed from the heat, and immediately picked up a pair of chopsticks to shovel another bite into his mouth.

“Rong Du, your cooking is so delicious.”

With his mouth full of noodles, Ji Xu spoke indistinctly, but his expression was utterly sincere.

His eyes narrowed into crescents, his cheeks bulging.

Sitting opposite him, Rong Du picked up his own chopsticks and took a bite of noodles, though his gaze remained fixed on Ji Xu’s face.

Watching him devour more than half the bowl ravenously, a thin sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead, his face showing a hint of distress when his chopsticks broke the egg yolk only to be quickly replaced by satisfaction—Rong Du lowered his head to take two bites, the corners of his mouth remaining upturned the entire time.

Ji Xu ate until his bowl was completely clean, drinking up even the soup.

Setting down the bowl, he wiped his mouth and took the initiative to stack the two empty bowls together, preparing to carry them to the kitchen.

Just as his hands touched the rim of the bowl, Rong Du stood up, walked around the table, and took the stack of tableware from his hands.

“I’ll wash the dishes today,” Ji Xu said, his hands still extended to take them back.

“You have to let me do some work.”

Rong Du looked down at Ji Xu’s hands.

Extended in midair, those hands were slender and fair, the knuckles distinct without being prominent, the nails trimmed neatly.

The pads of his thumb and index finger were faintly flushed pink from holding hot plates over a long period.

Now spread open within his line of sight, the five fingers were slightly parted, the palm lines clear and clean.

Rong Du shifted the tableware to his left hand, reached out his right hand, and cupped Ji Xu’s hand.

His thumb gently brushed across the back of Ji Xu’s hand with an extremely light touch, as if touching something fragile.

“Hands this pretty,” Rong Du said, his voice low, his gaze resting on their intertwined hands, “how could they be used to wash dishes?”

Ji Xu’s face instantly flushed red.

Held by Rong Du, his hand tried to pull back, only to be squeezed tightly for a brief second.

Rong Du’s palm was dry and warm, the thin calluses on his fingertips rubbing against the skin of his hand, stirring up a dense, ticklish sensation.

His mouth opened and closed, the roots of his ears burning bright red.

“It’s not that exaggerated…”

His voice grew smaller and smaller.

Only then did Rong Du let go of his hand, carrying the tableware as he turned toward the kitchen.

The sound of the running tap drifted over, his back swaying slightly in front of the sink.

His shoulders were broad; when he bent over, his T-shirt pulled up a bit, revealing a small patch of firm skin on his lower back.

Standing by the dining table, Ji Xu rubbed the hand that had just been held, his fingertips still retaining that warm tactile feeling.

After a brief internal struggle over whether to go in and help, he ultimately sat back down on the chair, comfortably resting his head against the backrest to daze out.

He truly had been spoiled lazy by Rong Du.

During his first few days in Haicheng, he would actively compete to do chores—washing dishes, mopping the floor, wiping the table, doing everything.

Each time, Rong Du would say, “Let me do it, let me do it,” and nudge him away from the sink.

Later, he gradually gave up resisting.

Once the tableware was placed on the table, Rong Du would take it away; when the floor got dirty, Rong Du would mop it upon returning from work; when clothes accumulated for two days, Rong Du would stuff them into the washing machine in one go.

Initially, Ji Xu felt embarrassed, secretly thinking that he was an Alpha after all—how could he be taken care of like this by a Beta?

However, that embarrassment lasted only a few days.

The human instinct for comfort was simply too powerful.

Once he grew accustomed to having someone tidy up everything perfectly, his hands and feet naturally grew lazy.

After eating, he would slump onto the sofa, finding washed fruit on the coffee table, an empty trash can, and slippers placed right by his feet.

He hadn’t done a single household chore in over two months.

It was as if all the trivial, troublesome matters in life were silently digested by Rong Du alone, leaving only comfort and contentment by the time they reached him.

Leaning against the backrest, listening to the stream of water and the light clatter of dishes in the kitchen, Ji Xu suddenly felt a slight prickle in his nose.

He sniffed hard, suppressing that trace of sourness, and shouted loudly toward the kitchen: “Rong Du, are we going out to play today?”

“It’s rare for you to have a day off.”

Rong Du poked half his body out from the kitchen, water still dripping from his hands.

“Where do you want to go?”

Ji Xu pondered.

Having been in Haicheng for over two months, his scope of activity was limited to the line between Rong Du’s rented apartment and the barbecue shop, plus a small supermarket for groceries and a few small eateries.

Although the name Haicheng contained the word “sea,” he hadn’t even smelled seawater yet.

Hesitating for a moment, he spoke tentatively: “…The seaside?”

“I haven’t seen the sea yet.”

Rong Du’s expression froze for a moment, but then his brows smoothed out, and the corners of his mouth arched upward.

Wiping his dry hands twice against his apron, he walked out of the kitchen, reached out, and gave Ji Xu’s head a playful rub.

“Alright, let’s take our Ah Xu to see the sea.”

When heading out, Rong Du stuffed two bottles of water, a pack of biscuits, a sun-protective jacket, and an umbrella into his backpack.

Watching him from the side, Ji Xu felt that the way he packed looked like a parent taking a child on a spring outing, and the corners of his mouth couldn’t stop curling up.

The two changed their shoes and left.

Going downstairs, Rong Du walked ahead while Ji Xu followed behind him.

Sunlight streamed in through the window at the turn of the stairwell, falling onto Rong Du’s shoulders and making that light gray T-shirt glow brightly.

There weren’t many people on the bus, so they found a two-seater by the window.

Sitting on the inside, Ji Xu pushed open a crack in the window.

The sea breeze poured through the gap, carrying an unfamiliar, damp, and slightly salty smell.

It was completely different from the air he had smelled at the train station the day he arrived in Haicheng—fresher, livelier, and vaster.

Leaning against the window sill, the wind blew his hair backward, revealing his smooth forehead and slender brow bone.

Sitting beside him, Rong Du turned his head to look at him.

Ji Xu’s eyes were slightly squinted against the wind, his eyelashes casting a small fan-shaped shadow on his cheekbones, his lips turned up in a smile.

He looked like a small animal finally poking its head out of a burrow—curious and ecstatic.

After getting off at the stop and walking for about seven or eight minutes, rounding a row of low shops and a few crooked palm trees, his field of vision suddenly opened up.

The sea.

Standing on the last step, Ji Xu watched that overwhelming blue flood into his entire vision.

The sky was pale blue, and the sea was deep blue mixed with a bit of gray-green, melting into a hazy line where they met.

Waves crashed up one after another, white foam shattering on the sand, producing a rhythm of whoosh—whoosh— endless and steady, like the earth breathing.

Scattered across the beach were a few sunshades and a few children squatting to dig in the sand, looking like tiny colored dots moving in the distance.

When the sea breeze blew over, it carried force, blowing his T-shirt tightly against his chest and back while his hair flew backward.

He felt as though an invisible large hand were pushing him back half a step.

“…”

Ji Xu opened his arms, raised his head, and closed his eyes facing the direction of the wind.

The wind poured into his collar and cuffs, cool and refreshing, carrying the crisp chill of sea waves and moisture.

His fingers spread wide, feeling the touch of the wind flowing between them.

Leaning his body slightly backward, it seemed as if he might be lifted up by the wind and fly away in the next second.

Standing slightly behind him to the side, Rong Du looked at his spread arms, his wind-blown clothes, and his expression of being completely immersed in the wind.

He raised a hand to shield his eyes, which were squinting against the piercing sunlight.

The white light reflected off the sea surface pulled his shadow out very long, casting it onto the sand at Ji Xu’s feet.

The two shadows overlapped and separated, swaying back and forth with the wind.

“Let me take you down to splash around.”

Rong Du reached out and pulled the back hem of Ji Xu’s shirt, dragging him back from that entranced state.

Opening his eyes, Ji Xu looked down at the golden sand beneath his feet, grinned wide, kicked off his sandals, and dashed into the water.

The feeling of his toes stepping into the wet sand was soft and cool.

Waves surged up to submerge his ankles before receding, carrying away a small patch of sand from beneath his feet.

Lowering his head, he watched his feet wrapped in seawater and shivered slightly—the seawater was colder than he had imagined—and then he burst into laughter again.

Rong Du followed unhurriedly behind, picking up Ji Xu’s sandals and placing them high up on the dry sand where they wouldn’t get wet.

Then he squatted down, drawing a crooked heart shape in the sand with his finger.

Just as he finished drawing, a wave surged up, washing the heart until only half an arc remained.

Watching that half arc get smoothed over by the seawater, Rong Du stood up and walked in Ji Xu’s direction.

Ji Xu was bending over in the shallow water, picking up a seashell that had been washed ashore.

Under the sunlight, the back of his neck glistened with seawater and beads of sweat.

That gland bulged slightly beneath the skin, its honey scent mingling with the salty sea breeze, so faint it was almost uncatchable.

Walking over, Rong Du stood beside him, looking out at the boundless sea shoulder to shoulder with him.

The wind blew over once more.

This time, Ji Xu did not open his arms again.

He simply stood quietly, his shoulder touching Rong Du’s shoulder, his toes sunk into the wet sand as the waves licked their ankles in endless ebb and flow.

“Rong Du,” Ji Xu suddenly spoke, his voice somewhat scattered by the sea breeze, “thank you for bringing me here.”

Rong Du turned his head to look at him.

Ji Xu didn’t turn back, still looking out at the sea surface, but the corners of his mouth were curved, and his eyes were glistening under the white light of the ocean.

Rong Du draped his arm over Ji Xu’s shoulder, his fingertips lightly touching the back of his neck.

“What’s there to thank?”

Rong Du said.

“I can bring you here every day from now on if you like.”

Ji Xu tilted his head, the tips of his ears turning red once more.

Yet he didn’t dodge Rong Du’s hand; instead, he leaned even closer to his side, their shoulders pressing tightly together.

At their feet, the sea waves receded and surged back up—whoosh—whoosh— as if they would never stop.

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