LA ⋆ Chapter 25: Surely Happy

Sheng Yao still didn't much like the New Year.

The normal rhythm of life was disrupted, and there were no relatives or friends to visit.

Cheng Ai sent a message saying he was staying home to keep his dad company while guests visited. From the first to the third day of the New Year, people would be coming by.

Sheng Yao said that must be exhausting. Cheng Ai sent back a reaction sticker of "little monkeys clocking in."

"This is so boring, I want to go back to work," Sheng Yao sighed after finishing his Nth round of Xiao Xiao Le.

Sheng Yi swept a look over him like he was crazy: "I bet you just want to see him."

"Who said that, I want to make money," Sheng Yao countered. "Time is passing, and it always feels like money is slipping away."

"Sheng Yao, I think your life needs something else in it, or you're becoming more and more like a fake person," Sheng Yi said. But even as he said this, the laptop in front of him was open to a freelance side gig he'd taken on. Sheng Yi closed the laptop. "Why don't we go on a trip?"

Sheng Yao's eyes lit up: "Where do you want to go?"

Sheng Yi opened a map and flipped through it quickly, then said, "Let's go to Shenyang. It's close."

Two rough guys' trip was decided on the spot—buy tickets, pack luggage, not a second wasted. They left that afternoon, the bullet train rolling northward, from the gray city into a world of swirling snow.

This was the first truly meaningful "trip" for Sheng Yao and Sheng Yi since birth—not studying abroad in another city, not working away from home, but going somewhere else to wander, to stop and start, to simply loaf around.

Sheng Yao and Sheng Yi didn't choose the hot tourist spots. Every day they started from the nearest morning market, browsed and ate, then wandered the nearby streets and alleys.

Ash-gray was the city's dominant color. Sheng Yao stopped at a certain intersection and looked up at the smokestacks not far away. These were the kind of smokestacks very common in the Northeast, with red-and-white stripes at the top, billowing clouds of smoke on winter days.

Sheng Yao raised his camera and took a photo of the smoking smokestack, sending it to Cheng Ai.

"Cheng Ai: You went to the Northeast?"

"Sheng Yao: Yeah, just went suddenly."

"Cheng Ai: Is it fun? What places did you go?"

"Sheng Yao: Just wandered the streets and alleys, didn't go to any tourist spots."

"Cheng Ai: I want to rewatch The Piano in a Factory[[1]] now."

"Sheng Yao: Wait till I get back, we'll watch it together."

"Cheng Ai: Okay."

At noon, the two of them ate a bowl of hot hand-pulled noodles, then went back to the hotel. Taking advantage of the carbon monoxide drowsiness, they didn't step out at all that evening.

Night came early. When Sheng Yi woke up, he found Sheng Yao staring blankly by the window.

The city's image was vivid, the shadow of steel and heavy industry slowly dissipating, new residential developments rising up alongside abandoned steel mills, the traces of the previous era humming softly in the wind and snow.

Sheng Yi realized it—like Sheng Yao, he was being wound around by the past.

The Spring Festival holiday ended. Back to work!

Cheng Ai returned to work, but Sheng Yao still had a few days left.

Cheng Ai asked Sheng Yao to pick him up after work. Sheng Yao said okay, just go straight to the parking garage, I'll wait for you there.

Cheng Ai rushed out of work. The moment he exited the elevator, he started searching for Sheng Yao's figure, quickly spotting him by the car. A person bundled up but not looking bulky was leaning against the hood, with something placed on the ground.

As Cheng Ai jogged over, he pulled off his outer jacket, and his mouth corners never came down. When he was still two or three meters away, he pulled out his car key and tossed it to Sheng Yao, who raised his arm and caught it in the air.

"What's this?" Cheng Ai walked closer and picked up the thing to look at it.

Sheng Yao's face flushed a light red. "Northeast rice," he said softly. "Hauled it back on my own body, no tricks, just pure feeling."

Cheng Ai happened to see Sheng Yao's lowered lashes, and his heart surged, his throat going dry. "Get in the car," he said, then turned toward the passenger seat first.

Sheng Yao opened the car door and got in.

Cheng Ai put the rice in the back seat, then pulled open the passenger door.

Once inside, Cheng Ai leaned directly toward Sheng Yao, cupped his face, and kissed from his eyes to his lips, holding on for a long time.

Sheng Yao gasped between breaths and patted Cheng Ai: "What if someone sees? I don't care, but what about you?"

"Does the boss care who the boss kisses?" Cheng Ai gave Sheng Yao's lip a light bite. "I don't care either."

That bite was like electricity running through him. Sheng Yao's whole body went rigid, like a hamster whose pressure point had been struck, suddenly dazed.

"Sheng Yao," Cheng Ai's voice was like fire burning.

"Hm?"

"Nothing," Cheng Ai gave a light peck at the corner of Sheng Yao's lips. "Drive. Let's go home."

"…"

Tomato-braised beef brisket, braised lamb spine, crucian carp and tofu soup, stir-fried romaine lettuce. Served with a bowl of rice heaped high.

Today's meal was a bit heavier on the oil. Cheng Ai remembered the first time he saw Sheng Yao.

On a dusty construction site, workers stood, sat, squatted, huddled together with boxed meals in their hands. Sheng Yao sat cross-legged among them, gnawing on a steamed bun, barely chewing before swallowing a few mouthfuls at a time.

"Sheng Yao, I don't think I ever told you when I started liking you," Cheng Ai said, looking into Sheng Yao's eyes.

Sheng Yao looked up from his rice, eyes widening: "Huh? I guessed it was when you asked me to buy cake."

Cheng Ai shook his head: "The summer of your first year at university, at the Project X construction site. I was there too."

Sheng Yao looked blank: "I don't remember."

"That's okay, you don't need to remember," Cheng Ai smiled at him. "I want you to know that I've liked you longer than you think."

"Thank you," his chopsticks fell slowly. "Thank you, Cheng Ai."

The Piano in a Factory tells the story of a laid-off worker who built a "steel" piano for his daughter out of scrap metal. Small people have their own hardships and happiness; ordinary life brings suffering, but it can also be lived with flavor.

When Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake suite began to play, Cheng Ai held Sheng Yao in his arms and kissed him deeply.

Sisyphus must surely be happy.

(The End)

#Extra