Several days after the exams ended, Mai Ding began preparing to go home for New Year. Mai Ding had to spend it with his parents, while An Zi Yan had to spend it with Grandpa. Which meant they were facing separation. Separation. What a heavy word. Their joined hands suddenly did not want to let go.
Mai Ding packed early and sat beside An Zi Yan. “You’ll miss me, right? Right?”
“Depends.”
“Depends on what?”
“If I happen to feel it’s necessary.”
“It is extremely necessary.”
Mai Ding stood, hauled An Zi Yan off the sofa, and pulled him toward the door. “Come on. Go grocery shopping with me. I’m making an entire Manchu–Han Imperial Feast today.”
“You want me to rate your bragging?”
“Go to hell. Hurry up before everyone picks out all the good ingredients.”
Elio’s Notes: The Manchu–Han Imperial Feast is a legendary, extravagantly elaborate Qing-dynasty banquet. Mai Ding is exaggerating wildly; he simply means he plans to cook a huge spread.
An Zi Yan followed Mai Ding to the supermarket. Someone like An Zi Yan attracted attention wherever he went. Mai Ding noticed plenty of people sneaking looks at him and felt ridiculously proud. This man belongs to me. Mine. Unable to resist, Mai Ding slipped his hand through An Zi Yan’s arm.
“What kind of rotten vegetable is this? They actually dare sell it in a supermarket?”
“What rotten vegetable? That’s what it’s supposed to look like. Sometimes I think you seriously lack basic common sense about things like this.”
“What use is that kind of common sense?”
“Just because you think it’s useless doesn’t mean it actually is.”
An Zi Yan curled his lip dismissively and pushed the shopping cart while Mai Ding filled it with the vegetables and seasonings they needed. Once they finished shopping, Mai Ding waited by the entrance while An Zi Yan paid. Suddenly, a couple approached. The woman was carrying an enormous bouquet of roses and looked blissfully happy, and every few steps she and her boyfriend glanced lovingly at each other. They really are affectionate. Come to think of it, An Zi Yan had never given Mai Ding flowers before. Then again, expecting that kind of romantic gesture from him was probably harder than killing him.
An Zi Yan came out carrying the groceries and saw Mai Ding staring absentmindedly at the roses in the woman’s arms. “Want some?”
Mai Ding snapped out of it and shook his head. “What would I want flowers for? I’m not some little girl. Hurry up, I’m starving.”
An Zi Yan studied Mai Ding’s expression thoughtfully.
Mai Ding really did cook an enormous amount of food, filling the entire table. He clapped his hands in satisfaction. “Dinner!”
An Zi Yan came over and sat down. “Why did you make so much?”
“Because I wanted to. And somebody originally wanted to spend New Year together, but apparently that isn’t possible.”
“Mai Ding.”
“Mm?”
“What do you want for a New Year’s present?”
It was rare for An Zi Yan to ask something like this voluntarily. Naturally, Mai Ding was not about to waste the opportunity. “I want a lot of things.”
“Let’s hear them.”
“Talking big, aren’t you? Don’t get scared after I tell you.”
“Are you going to say it or not?”
“I want lots and lots of romance.” That was rather difficult for An Zi Yan. Romance was practically an alien concept to the bastard. Judging by everything he had done in the past, his understanding of romance and Mai Ding’s seemed to exist in completely different dimensions.
“Oh.”
“Hey! What kind of response is ‘oh’?”
“I only asked. I never said I was definitely giving it to you.”
“Then why ask at all?”
“To give you hope, then disappoint you.”
“An Zi Yan, believe me, I’ll stab you to death with my chopsticks.”
“Aah, I’m terrified.” The expression An Zi Yan wore while saying it was enough to make someone vomit blood. Mai Ding had never met anyone so horrible. The problem was, there was absolutely nothing he could do about him.
After dinner, it was about time to leave. An Zi Yan put Mai Ding’s luggage in the back seat. Once Mai Ding got into the car, he asked, “When are you going home?”
“After I drop you off.”
“Then why don’t you drive around a few more times first?”
“Why?”
“So I can stay with you a little longer.”
“If you want to stay with me that badly, come home with me.”
“In your dreams. Your family is terrifying.”
An Zi Yan started the car and soon pulled up outside Mai Ding’s house. He leaned over and kissed Mai Ding’s left cheek. “Be good.”
Mai Ding touched his cheek, climbed out, bent down to drag his luggage from the back seat, then stood beside the car with his bag. “You know what I want to hear.”
Mai Ding was only saying it casually. He had absolutely no expectation that An Zi Yan would genuinely say it.
But this time, An Zi Yan actually surprised him, although his tone was completely wrong. “Aah, aah. I love you. Happy now? Don’t get even uglier over New Year.” Then he drove off at full speed.
Mai Ding shouted after the disappearing car, “Peh!!”
On the first morning after returning home, Mai Ding opened his eyes and was startled to find a single white rose on his bedside table. A small card was attached. He took it off and recognized An Zi Yan’s handwriting immediately: This kind of flower dies easily.
Mai Ding’s face darkened. What the hell is that supposed to mean? And how had the flower even gotten onto his bedside table without him noticing?
He complained, but the corner of his mouth still rose uncontrollably. Unable to wait, Mai Ding called An Zi Yan. On the other end, An Zi Yan was still asleep.
“What?”
“Did you send the flower?”
“So what if I did?”
“Why did you send me a flower? And how did you even get it in here?”
“So what if I sent you a flower? None of your business. I’m exhausted. I’m going back to sleep.” With that, An Zi Yan ruthlessly hung up. Sometimes Mai Ding genuinely wondered whether he was the man’s lover or his mortal enemy.
Still, Mai Ding leaned closer and smelled the white rose. A delicate fragrance drifted toward him and soaked straight into his heart.
On his second morning home, Mai Ding woke up and found another rose in the glass where he had put the first. This one was blue, and another card was attached. This time, it contained only words: Same as above.
On the third morning, Mai Ding woke to a yellow rose. The card again contained the same words: Same as above. Mai Ding was starting to suspect An Zi Yan had photocopied the damn things.
On the fourth morning, it was a pink rose—and naturally, another card bearing the same two words.
By the time the glass was filled with roses of every color, it was already New Year’s Eve. The flowers were undeniably beautiful, but Mai Ding’s initial feeling of being moved was gradually being replaced by fear. Somehow, a new flower mysteriously appeared inside his bedroom every morning. No matter how he looked at it, this was beginning to resemble a horror movie.
Elsewhere, the long-suffering Zhou Ge called An Zi Yan. “You can’t treat people like this. You make me climb into Mai Ding’s house every single night just to deliver roses, and I’m not even allowed to wake him up.”
“You fucked Ellen on my bed. I haven’t settled that score with you yet.”
“Mai Ding really is a fucking tattletale. If I’d known, I would’ve smothered him with a pillow while I was in his room.”
“If he dies, you’ll be the first person buried with him.”
Though really, Mai Ding, when are you finally going to remove that ladder outside your window yourself?
Mai Ding drew in a breath, stared at the roses, and swayed gently along with the music. Another year was almost here.
You’re making everything sweeter and sweeter. Do you realize I’m not going to be able to take much more of this?
If I ever get diabetes, it’ll definitely be because you’ve been giving me too much sweetness lately.
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