MFMH C114

Chapter 114 — Modern Arc (III)

Shen Yanbei thought he must be sick, and not just any sickness, but the kind that muddled the mind.

He had bought two large bags of groceries and was now squatting like a fool on the stone steps outside Gu Changfeng’s iron gate, locked in a staring contest with the mutt from the neighbor’s yard. Fortunately, the dog didn’t bark at him; otherwise, he really would have lost all face.

Scratching his head, Shen Yanbei felt utterly stupid. He should have asked Gu Changfeng for his phone number. The first time, he had worried Gu Changfeng might be annoyed, so he hadn’t asked. But after Gu had helped him again last night, he still hadn’t asked and just stood there, watching him walk away!

Suddenly, a kindly voice sounded beside him. “Young man, why don’t you go inside? Forgot your keys?”

Turning his head, Shen Yanbei saw an old lady pulling a small cart loaded with a sack of rice and some vegetables and meat.

He smiled, embarrassed to admit he was here without having told Gu Changfeng first, and so had no way to get in.

“Young man, could I trouble you to help me carry these up again?” the old lady said cheerfully. “If you can’t get inside, come eat at my place first. I’ll make dumplings for you.”

Shen Yanbei froze, then quickly rose to his feet and hefted the rice and cart together. “Grandma, can you manage the stairs?” This old complex had no elevator, and her legs looked unsteady, her steps halting.

“It’s fine, these old bones can still hold up,” she chuckled, before looking at him with concern. “But young man, why have you grown so thin? Work can’t be wearing you down like this. Don’t think just because you’re young you can abuse your body.”

Was her eyesight poor too? Shen Yanbei scratched his head. “Grandma, I’m not him. I’m his… his friend.”

He supposed he could count as Gu Changfeng’s friend?

The old lady squinted closer, then laughed apologetically. “Oh my, forgive me! My eyes are failing, I can’t see clearly from afar. Sorry to trouble you.”

“It’s no trouble, just a small effort,” Shen Yanbei said, glancing up at the floors. “Grandma, which floor do you live on?”

“The third,” she answered, holding the rail and climbing steadily.

At her door, Shen Yanbei set down the cart. She fished out her key and opened the door. “Could you also carry the rice to the kitchen for me? The old man’s not home, and I don’t have the strength.”

When they entered, Shen Yanbei noticed there were no young people’s shoes by the rack. Casually, he asked, “Where are your children?”

The words had barely left his mouth before regret hit him. A lone elder living in such an old apartment clearly had reasons—he might be touching on a painful subject.

The old lady smiled faintly. “They’re all very busy. Always flying here and there. They’ve bought their own houses, started their families. They only come back during the New Year or holidays.”

Shen Yanbei frowned. “You’re elderly, you really should have younger people around to look after you.”

Handing him a cup of water, she sighed. “That’s what they say too, but…”

“This apartment was my husband’s and mine, our first home. We worked so hard for it. Now that he’s gone, I can only cling to it…” Her eyes grew damp, voice tinged with sorrow. “My son and daughter want me to sell it and live with them. But who would want to buy an old walk-up with no school nearby? It won’t sell, and it’s hard to rent out…”

Shen Yanbei was stunned. So her husband had passed away.

She dabbed at her eyes. “They’ve planned to bring me over next month, but this house won’t manage itself. The wooden furniture needs dusting, spraying for pests, or the bugs will eat it away…”

She fretted, “If the house isn’t taken care of, how can I move with peace of mind?”

Shen Yanbei, who had been listening quietly, suddenly said, “Grandma, how about… you sell the house to me?”

The old lady blinked. “What did you say, young man?”

“Sell it to me. Or if you don’t want to sell, rent it to me. I’ll look after the furniture,” Shen Yanbei blurted out, though inside he scolded himself.

Damn it! He was already letting Gu Changfeng’s good looks scramble his brain!

The old lady chuckled, shaking her head. “You can’t buy a house so casually. You and your friend are good lads. I appreciate the thought.”

“No, I—” Shen Yanbei’s face turned serious. “I really want to buy it! I don’t have much money, but I planned to buy a second-hand place anyway. Your apartment is so well maintained,” he glanced around, “and the layout and lighting are good. I like it.”

If he could buy it, Gu Changfeng could move upstairs. There were three rooms—Gu could live in one, and he…

His thoughts spun out of control. Shen Yanbei hurriedly reined them in, warning himself that Gu was not like him, and he should stop daydreaming.

“Young man, are you serious?” The old lady still doubted her ears.

“Truer than pearls!” Shen Yanbei pulled out his new phone. “Grandma, let me give you my number. You can discuss it with your family. If you decide to sell, you can contact me. My surname is Shen—just call me Xiao Shen.”

The old lady’s face lit with surprise and joy. “Xiao Shen, then stay for lunch. I’ll make dumplings for you!”

But just then, Shen Yanbei spotted Gu Changfeng outside through the window, riding his electric scooter home. He quickly declined. “No need, Grandma, my friend is back!”

Gu Changfeng had just noticed the bags left at his door when Shen Yanbei stepped out of the stairwell.

“You’re back!” Shen Yanbei hurried over, picking up the bags and waiting at the door for him to open it.

Gu Changfeng frowned. “What are you doing here?”

“Well…” Shen Yanbei rubbed his nose. “Thanks for helping me last night. I wanted to invite you to dinner.”

So he bought groceries early in the morning just for that? Gu Changfeng’s brows furrowed, his gaze complex. “Have you been waiting long?”

“Not really. I helped the lady on the third floor carry rice up, and stayed there a while.”

Gu Changfeng unlocked the door. “Come in, then.”

Shen Yanbei smiled and followed him inside.

Familiar now, he deftly unpacked the groceries, stowing beer and fruit in the fridge, carrying meat and vegetables into the kitchen.

“The shrimp today is fresh. Do you want it boiled with garlic or braised in sauce?” he asked, poking his head out.

Gu Changfeng was standing at the fridge, tilting his head back to drink water. His Adam’s apple moved with each swallow, sinfully attractive. Shen Yanbei unconsciously gulped too. Realizing what he was doing, he jerked his head back into the kitchen.

Gu Changfeng set down the empty bottle, wiped his mouth casually. “You didn’t have to go to such trouble. Last night I just happened to pass by.” The fridge was now crammed with seasonal fruit, his usual beer and water, even yogurt and eggs.

The other day, the young man had peeked into his fridge. He hadn’t expected him to remember the exact brands.

Gu Changfeng tossed the bottle in the bin and rubbed his face, sitting on the sofa.

From the kitchen came Shen Yanbei’s voice. “I know. I didn’t mean anything by it. I just wanted to cook you a meal, to make friends.”

Gu Changfeng froze, then heard him again: “Sorry for barging in without telling you first. If you don’t have time to eat, I’ll just leave the food in the fridge. You can heat it up later.”

His shifts ran from two in the afternoon until ten at night, so he did have time. But who went to such lengths—buying groceries, cooking themselves—just to “make friends”?

Gu Changfeng clenched his fists.

He was no good with people. He didn’t know if Shen Yanbei’s effort was gratitude or something else.

“Changfeng, could you come peel a couple of cloves of garlic?”

The young man’s tone was so natural, so easy, as if they’d been friends for years. The tension in Gu’s shoulders eased. He rose and entered the kitchen.

Handing him a plump head of garlic, Shen Yanbei turned back to the shrimp wriggling in the sink, deveining each one. “I think boiling them is best. Keeps the sweet flavor. What do you think?”

Gu placed the peeled cloves into a bowl. “Boiled is good.”

Shen Yanbei looked over, smiling. “Then boiled it is.”

The youth’s handsome face lit with his smile, and Gu lowered his head, dodging his gaze. “Mm.”

Once the garlic was peeled, Shen Yanbei shooed him out, saying the kitchen was too small. Gu didn’t sit, though—he leaned by the doorframe, occasionally passing him a plate.

Watching him roll up his sleeves, focused as he heated oil, Gu asked quietly, “Do you often cook for friends?”

“No,” Shen Yanbei tossed in ginger and garlic to sizzle. “They already have someone to cook. I’m just alone.” Then, as if casually, he added, “Your girlfriend must cook for you sometimes, right?”

Gu frowned. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Shen Yanbei’s spatula stilled. Turning his head, he asked cautiously, “You broke up?”

Gu shook his head. “I’ve never had one.”

Shen Yanbei’s heart thumped, bubbles of joy surging inside him. He steadied himself, pouring chili bean paste into the pan. “Then where’d your scooter come from?”

Gu gave him a puzzled look. “The girl who sublet this apartment to me sold it at a discount.”

Fireworks burst in Shen Yanbei’s chest. But reason reminded him—never having had a girlfriend didn’t necessarily mean anything. A man like Gu might meet someone and go straight for marriage.

The thought wiped the smile from his lips.

Seeing his grin fade, Gu’s brows knit. “Something wrong?”

“Ah?” Shen Yanbei forced a stiff smile. “Nothing. Just thought someone like you, this handsome, doesn’t suit a little scooter. You look better on a roaring motorcycle.”

Gu froze. In the youth’s bright eyes was nothing but admiration—for him.

“You’re handsome too,” Gu said slowly, his gaze steady, warm, and earnest.

Boom! A brilliant firework exploded in Shen Yanbei’s heart, leaving him utterly dazed.