KMYB | Chapter 58

Zhou Zeqi wasn’t especially fond of Western food, but his parents liked it. After hearing Zhou Zeqi mention that Xishui had recently lost his appetite because of the heat, they sent over two steaks that had just arrived at home, along with some other vegetables.

Though he didn’t particularly like Western food, Zhou Zeqi’s cooking was excellent.

Foie gras toast, assorted tempura, and several dishes he didn’t usually make.

Xishui would help out from the side, wiping plates, bringing dishes over, and so on.

Today, Xishui’s appetite was oddly good. He finished an entire steak.

Zhou Zeqi, on the other hand, lost his appetite. He set down his knife and fork. "You’re not sick of eating my cooking, are you?"

"…"

Xishui looked at Zhou Zeqi and shook his head. "Isn’t this also made by you?"

"Want something fresh, do you?" Zhou Zeqi leaned over the table, inclining slightly toward him, his meaning obvious.

Xishui took a big bite of the toast, crisp and charred at the edges. "Whatever you make tastes good to me."

Zhou Zeqi looked at him for a while, then refilled the water glass in front of Xishui. "The performance is the day after tomorrow?"

"Right," Xishui answered. Then he suddenly froze mid-bite. He wiped his hands and stood up. "If you hadn’t said it, I would’ve almost forgotten. The teacher gave us entry tickets, one for each person, and they’re front row seats, too."

"These tickets are really hard to get. Our class is just a minor player in this performance, and there are lots of other big names. The lead dancer from the National Dance company has a piece too, and she’s super amazing!"

Zhou Zeqi took the ticket Xishui handed him. "You’re not letting Auntie go?"

"I asked her. She said to let you go."

Zhou Zeqi was silent for a moment, then suddenly changed the subject. "You looked through my phone?"

Just now, when Xishui had said "pretty wife," Zhou Zeqi hadn’t asked him right away. So that was what he had been waiting for.

Xishui put a serving of foie gras toast onto Zhou Zeqi’s plate. His eyelids lowered a little, looking uncomfortable. "I wasn’t suspicious of you or anything. I just rolled over and saw your phone, and when I opened it, it went straight to the photo album."

Xishui poked at the plate with his fork. He had always spoken bluntly, rarely thinking things through as carefully as he was now. He opened his mouth several times, but every time, he felt the words he was about to say still couldn’t fully express how he felt.

"Actually…" he said slowly, lifting his eyes to look straight at Zhou Zeqi. "You saved so many photos. You could’ve told me from the start."

Zhou Zeqi tilted his head slightly and smiled. "Tell you?"

"Xishui," Zhou Zeqi called his name, clear and unhurried. "Do you know what kind of image you have in their eyes?"

Xishui didn’t really understand how that related to what he’d just said, but he still nodded. "I know, a very handsome image."

Zhou Zeqi: "…"

Outside of school, Xishui often appeared on the stages of all kinds of international ballet competitions, or on the stages of major theaters. He was the calling card of Jing Dance, and even more, the calling card of Jing University, someone with no flaws to be found anywhere on him.

Except when Lin Xiaojin was around, most of the time he was on his own, with almost no entertainment outside of studying. Standing beneath the stage lights, Xishui was a dancer everyone at Jing Dance recognized as someone who could one day shoulder the future of domestic ballet.

Even if Zhou Zeqi wasn’t much worse than him.

But when facing the person they liked, most people’s first reaction was to examine themselves and see whether they were worthy, and the answer they got was usually, subjectively, no.

When it came to Xishui, Zhou Zeqi had no confidence at all.

Xishui was silent for a while, then suddenly asked, "Have you watched a lot of my performances?"

Zhou Zeqi answered very casually. "Whenever time allowed, I went to every one."

"Why didn’t you tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"Tell me you liked me a long time ago."

"No need," Zhou Zeqi said, tapping the table twice to tell Xishui to keep eating. "Besides, don’t you know now?"

"But if you had told me, I would’ve been really touched."

Zhou Zeqi laughed. "Who asked you to be touched?"

Xishui pressed his lips together and looked at the two small piles of fennel on the plate, their clear green blur becoming hazy. "If you keep doing this, I’m going to feel really sorry for you."

Before his tears could fall, Zhou Zeqi stood and reached out in time to catch them. "Do you feel guilty about using me to lose weight before?"

Xishui’s eyelashes were damp, clumping together. His eyes were bright and wet. "Ah…"

Zhou Zeqi sat back down. "What’s with the 'ah'? Silly."

Zhou Zeqi’s cleverness showed in every way. For example, he liked Xishui and could tell at once. But Xishui was different. He could only awkwardly find excuses to get close to the person he liked.

Luckily, whether they were clever or not, they were both trying their best to move toward each other.

–

While Zhou Zeqi was washing up, Xishui ran back home and brought over the album he hadn’t taken out in a very long time. It was bigger than an A4 sheet of paper by a full circle, thickly bound and ornate.

This was all the photos Xishui had taken onstage from his first year of high school to his freshman year of college. Some were taken by teachers and classmates, some by his parents, and some by professional photographers. Li Wanzhi had said that recording growth was important.

Photos would be taken from many different angles, below the stage, from both sides, from the front-diagonal, from behind, from above, all sorts of angles.

Xishui skipped straight past his first and second year of high school and went directly to the photos from the second semester of his sophomore year, shot from the sides of the stage and from the front-diagonal.

If there were digital copies, Xishui could have zoomed in. But with these photos, he could only sit in the brightest patch of light and search painstakingly.

If Zhou Zeqi had been there, then from the direct angle behind the stage, he would definitely have been able to capture the audience seats. Some theaters didn’t have very many seats, and with Zhou Zeqi being as flush as he was, the seats he bought would definitely have been near the front.

Xishui found the first photo with Zhou Zeqi in it. It had been taken from the front-diagonal of the stage. Zhou Zeqi was in the second row, wearing a black baseball cap and looking slightly upward, in a black hoodie. Even though the shot was a little blurry and the distance was a little far, Xishui still recognized him at a glance.

Carefully, Xishui pulled this photo out.

This was a performance at the Shanghai Grand Theater.

The second one was their high school’s May Fourth arts performance. Because the venue was off campus, it had drawn quite a few people from outside the school to watch. This shot was a group photo of all the dancers with their backs to the stage and the students and audience below.

Zhou Zeqi didn’t have a seat. He was standing in the aisle at the very edge.

…

In almost every performance, Zhou Zeqi was there.

Xishui lay on the bed and sniffled. No wonder when he and Zhou Zeqi had made a pinky promise last time, Zhou Zeqi had said, "You’re onstage, I’m below the stage. I’ll definitely be there for every performance." He hadn’t been lying, and it hadn’t just been a promise. He had really done it before saying it.

Fifty-two photos, thirty-seven performances, thirteen cities, three countries. For three years, Zhou Zeqi had been Xishui’s audience member in the corner.

An unremarkable supporting role, finally stepping onto the stage to become the lead in the fourth year.

When Zhou Zeqi came out of the bathroom, he was only wearing loose pajama pants, no shirt to sleep in. The water he hadn’t fully dried off yet slid down along the lines of his abs. Seeing Xishui curled up under the blanket in a daze, he walked over, pulled him into his arms, and buried his face in Xishui’s neck to inhale hard. "Baby is so good."

Xishui didn’t react.

"What’s wrong?"

Xishui handed him the stack of photos from beneath the blanket. "These were taken out from the album. They all have you in them."

Zhou Zeqi lowered his head to glance at the photos. He took them, didn’t even really look, and set them on the bedside table. Then he stroked Xishui’s hair. "For this?"

"Mm." Xishui gave a soft hum.

"Mm… you’re very touched?" Zhou Zeqi pinched Xishui’s chin. Leaning down, he kissed him. "Then show some actual action?"

Xishui was practically dying of emotion right now. Even if Zhou Zeqi wanted the moon, he’d be willing to pluck it for him. Without thinking, he nodded. "Okay."

Zhou Zeqi’s eyes turned dark. He pressed his lips to Xishui’s warm ear and said something. Xishui’s face instantly went red from the base of his neck upward. "I don’t know how."

"Baby is so smart, how could you not know how?"

Xishui’s palm was pressed against Zhou Zeqi’s chest. He could feel the steady, powerful heartbeat right there, so close he could almost touch it. "Then, then I’ll try tomorrow."

Zhou Zeqi didn’t make things difficult for Xishui anymore. He picked him up whole and pinned him in the angle between the bed and the wall. "Then today, learn by watching how I do it."

Xishui did want to learn, but every time things got to the end, he felt like he was already completely out of his mind and unable to think at all.

This time was the same.

–

The next day, Xishui finished his morning practice, then found a new album at home and put the photos with Zhou Zeqi into it one by one. After he finished arranging them, the doorbell rang.

Xishui looked through the peephole and saw who it was. He hurriedly opened the door. "Dad."

"I knocked at the neighbor’s place, but no one opened the door." Xibuyao’s expression was calm, as if he wasn’t surprised at all that Xishui was staying at Zhou Zeqi’s place. He walked in and saw the album on the coffee table. "Why did you take out all the photos?"

Xishui closed the door. "Just, looking at them."

His father didn’t like Zhou Zeqi, so it was better not to bring him up too much.

Xibuyao didn’t ask any further. He sat down on the sofa and set the things in his hand on the coffee table beside the album. "Your passport, and some of your certificates."

Xishui nodded. "Okay, thank you, Dad."

After he answered, he poured Xibuyao a glass of water. Xibuyao didn’t drink it. Instead, he looked back toward the master bedroom and frowned slightly. "He still isn’t up?"

Xishui sat down on the single sofa nearby. "He’s been really busy with training lately."

Xibuyao’s brow was still furrowed. "Sleeping in isn’t a good habit for young people. Are you going to end up taking care of him later?"

"No, usually he takes care of me," Xishui said immediately.

"Then what about you?" Xibuyao asked.

"What about me?" Xishui didn’t understand.

"What do you do?"

Xishui scratched his knee. "I’m in charge of eating."

Xibuyao: "…"

Xishui himself also felt embarrassed. He added, "I also feed the cat, I help wash vegetables when he cooks, and I hang up the laundry too."

Xibuyao thought for a while, then lowered his voice. "Although these words should probably come from your mother, she’s really busy lately and probably can’t spare the time, so I came instead. Your mother said for you not to be too lazy."

He could only say this to Xishui. In front of others, Xibuyao definitely wouldn’t say Xishui was wrong.

Xishui said, "I’m very hardworking."

Xishui said, "I do everything I can."

Xibuyao looked at Xishui.

A few seconds later, just as Xibuyao was about to speak again, the bedroom door behind him opened.

Zhou Zeqi came out fully dressed, his brows and eyes still carrying the fatigue of just waking up, his hair a little messy. He walked over and sat down opposite Xibuyao, then said slowly, "Uncle, I don’t need Xishui to do anything for me, he just needs to dance."