Chapter 25 – Can I not leave

Translator: Abo Dammen

What an incredible coincidence.

Chi Zhao stared blankly at his phone screen, not knowing how to reply. Fu Nan’an’s name and profile picture looked completely different from Zhong Yangqiu’s. He didn’t know how he could have mistaken them.

Chi Zhao swore this wasn’t intentional on his part.

Their relationship had already grown distant; Chi Zhao hadn’t wanted to trouble Professor Fu with this matter. His fingertip hovered over the screen, hesitating to reply, when Fu Nan’an called directly.

The phone buzzed. Chi Zhao almost threw his phone. He hurriedly said goodbye to Liu Yang, jogged to a quiet place, and finally answered the call.

“Professor Fu, I…” Chi Zhao’s voice trembled slightly. He opened his mouth, wanting to explain that he had sent the message to the wrong person. Fu Nan’an, thinking he was still anxious, reassured, “Don’t worry. I’ve already spoken to Nurse Liu.”

Compared to Chi Zhao’s trembling voice, Fu Nan’an’s voice was much steadier. He seemed to still be in the ward area as voices could faintly be heard in the background. Through the receiver, Chi Zhao heard him say “sorry” to someone nearby, followed by the sound of footsteps, and the surroundings quieted down. “I told Nurse Liu you’re working on a project with me. He probably won’t ask you again.”

Perhaps because it was over the phone, the slight sense of distance between them disappeared, replaced by a subtle intimacy. The corners of Chi Zhao’s lips twitched. He said softly, “Thank you.” Fu Nan’an said gently, “What are you thanking me for? No need for thanks with me.”

His tone was warm, and so was Chi Zhao’s heart. Chi Zhao’s heart felt warm, like a hot spring bubbling. Blushing, he explained to Fu Nan’an that he had sent the message to the wrong person, that he had meant to send it to Zhong Yangqiu. Fu Nan’an laughed and said, “I guessed as much.”

He really had guessed early on. Chi Zhao wouldn’t call him “bro” in a message. But since he saw it, Fu Nan’an wouldn’t not help. His tone was gentle, yet carried weight. “If you encounter this kind of situation again in the future, just call me directly.”

Interns do odd jobs wherever they are, and being bullied is common. Chi Zhao didn’t think doing a bit more work was a big loss, but the feeling of having someone backing you up is different. Professor Fu, as a senior doctor, always cared for them. He wouldn’t let them be wronged.

The depths of winter were the coldest time. After chatting with Professor Fu for a while, Chi Zhao’s heart warmed up. After hanging up, he slowly walked back to the dormitory building. The cold wind poured into his clothes through the collar, yet Chi Zhao still felt comfortable and reassured.

Time flew until New Year’s Eve. His roommates had all left, the entire hallway empty except for Chi Zhao. The dorm manager directly gave him all the keys.

It wasn’t his first time spending the New Year alone, and Chi Zhao was used to it. He went to the supermarket downstairs, bought some dumplings to boil, and after hesitating for a while, also bought a can of beer to go with it.

It’s the New Year after all, itshould be a bit more ceremonious.

Dormitory buildings supposedly forbid using stoves, but every room secretly keeps a low-power thermal cooker. The one Chi Zhao bought had low wattage and wasn’t dangerous. The small pot simmered half a bag of dumplings slowly, which was also quite different in taste.

A bowl of dumplings warmed him up from the inside. Chi Zhao drank some more beer. The steam grew thick before his eyes, and his mind grew a bit chaotic.

What does one think about when the mind is chaotic? Chi Zhao blinked and called Fu Nan’an.

“Professor Fu, Happy New Year!”

When he received the call, Fu Nan’an was sitting at his desk “reading” a Braille book. The enthusiastic voice sounded in his ear. Fu Nan’an’s eyes curved slightly. “Happy New Year, Chi Zhao.”

Unlike the quiet dormitory building, it was quite lively around Fu Nan’an. Although the city prohibited setting off fireworks, some people still did it secretly. The crackling sounds fell clearly on his ears. After all, ears aren’t like eyes, you can’t block them no matter what.

“Professor, what are you doing over there? Why do I hear firecrackers?” Chi Zhao’s voice was very enthusiastic, naturally overriding the sound of firecrackers. Fu Nan’an put down the book in his hand, felt his way to the window. Chi Zhao, not wanting to hang up so quickly, was still trying to keep the conversation going. “Professor, where is your home? Can you still set off fireworks there?”

“I’m still at the hospital,” Fu Nan’an’s hand rested on the windowsill edge, answering him. “I didn’t go home for the New Year.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go back, it was just a coincidence.

Fu Nan’an’s parents were both university teachers. They retired a couple of years ago, but the old couple couldn’t stay idle and traveled all over. This year, they said

they wanted to spend the New Year in Hainan. Fu Nan’an still had work to finish, and since they usually saw each other often anyway, he didn’t go with them. “They went off for their ‘couple’s private time. I’m not butting in.”

The Fu family all had laid-back personalities, not fussing over superficial things. Family harmony was an everyday matter, not something that hinged on a day or two. But Chi Zhao clearly didn’t think so. Hearing this, he immediately became anxious. “How can that be? It’s the New Year after all!”

“Then what should I do?” Fu Nan’an was seeing him so flustered for the first time and smiled, teasing him. “They’re already in Hainan. I can’t exactly fly over now, can I?”

Chi Zhao’s mind blanked for a moment, and he blurted out, “Then I’ll spend New Year’s Eve with you!”

As soon as the words left his mouth, both of them were stunned. Chi Zhao regretted it especially. They weren’t relatives or anything, so spending New Year’s Eve together was a bit strange. Chi Zhao unconsciously poked the dimple on his cheek, explaining flusteredly, “I… I didn’t mean it like that… I just thought, since you’re alone and I’m alone, we might as well make do–- no, that’s not what I meant.”

Halfway through, Chi Zhao abruptly shut his mouth.

What kind of mess is this, Chi Zhao thought, chagrined. The more I explain, the more flustered I get.

Chi Zhao continued poking his dimple, too embarrassed to know what to say. Fu Nan’an opened his mouth gently. “Alone in the dorm?”

Chi Zhao nodded. “Yeah… they all went home.”

Fu Nan’an asked again, “Lonely in the dorm?”

Chi Zhao kept nodding. “…A bit.”

Saying it wasn’t lonely was impossible. His roommates had gone home long ago. The Spring Festival was inherently a time for family reunion, making Chi Zhao’s solitude feel even more lonely.

He was the only person left in the entire building. Chi Zhao was actually used to it. Before, he would return to the orphanage every year to visit the teacher who had taken care of him. But the teacher passed away unexpectedly two years ago, and since then, he had no family left.

“Actually, it’s fine,” Chi Zhao didn’t want Fu Nan’an to worry and deliberately laughed cheerfully. “Being alone in the dorm is quite comfortable too. I can sleep when I want and get up when I want, just like living in a big villa by myself.”

Chi Zhao was long accustomed to enduring these feelings alone. He smiled, trying to brush the matter off, but then heard Fu Nan’an sigh softly and say, “Come over to my place. At least we can talk for a while.”

Chi Zhao froze for a couple of seconds before processing it. “R-Really? Is it okay? Won’t it be too much trouble?”

“My home isn’t far from the hospital,” Fu Nan’an’s tone held no trace of impatience. He said, “I’ll send you the address. Take your time on the way.”

“Okay, okay!” Chi Zhao was so happy he nearly dropped his phone.

After hanging up, Fu Nan’an sent the address. Chi Zhao looked at it over and over. He never dreamed he’d have the chance to spend New Year’s Eve with Professor Fu. Even now, it felt like a dream. He pinched himself hard before truly believing it, the smile on his face practically overflowing.

He was overjoyed.

Fu Nan’an told him to take his time, but Chi Zhao simply couldn’t slow down. He swiftly changed clothes, gathered his things, and before leaving, downed the remaining half-bottle of beer in one go.

As the saying goes, “Liquid courage makes the timid brave.” It was Chi Zhao’s first time going to Fu Nan’an’s home, so being nervous was normal. He felt he should bring something but didn’t know what. In the end, he cooked another pot of dumplings, packed them in a container, tucked it inside his coat against his chest, and set off for Fu Nan’an’s place.

The twelfth lunar month was the coldest time. It was past eight, already dark. The north wind felt like knives on his skin, but Chi Zhao’s heart remained warm. Worried about the dumplings getting cold, he kept his hand over them, shielding them. The first thing he did upon arrival was shove the container into Fu Nan’an’s arms. “Professor Fu, eat dumplings!”

The plastic box felt heavy against his chest. Fu Nan’an’s fingers traced its shape. “Why did you bring dumplings?”

“I guessed you probably hadn’t eaten any,” Chi Zhao smiled, speaking quite seriously. “You have to eat dumplings for the New Year. It’s tradition.”

“Is that the tradition?” Customs vary by region. Fu Nan’an’s family didn’t have this tradition; they never ate dumplings for the New Year, so naturally, he hadn’t today either. “I really haven’t had any.”

“Then you must try them!” Chi Zhao immediately offered him the dumplings like presenting a treasure, his eyes eager. “I just cooked these.”

It was hard to refuse such earnestness. Fu Nan’an actually didn’t eat dinner in the evenings, but he still smiled slightly and said, “Alright.”

Chi Zhao had brought plenty of dumplings. Fu Nan’an divided them into two bowls. They sat facing each other, eating and chatting.

The dumplings were ordinary, just frozen ones; regardless of the filling, the taste was similar. The thermal cooker’s power was limited, so the wrappers were a bit soggy. But this plate of very common dumplings took on a different flavor because of the person sharing them. Chi Zhao had already eaten a bowl earlier but still found these delicious.

The corner of Fu Nan’an’s lips quirked up. “You like dumplings?”

“Y-Yeah, sort of.” Chi Zhao smiled sheepishly. He ate quickly, with only one dumpling left in his bowl. He poked it with his chopsticks and said, “Mainly, I think it’s about the tradition.”

Chi Zhao was indeed quite a traditional person. His upbringing shaped that; the education he received from childhood was like this. When the dumplings were almost finished, he reminded Fu Nan’an to leave one, symbolizing “surplus year after year.” As they chatted, the conversation turned to his childhood.

“When I was little, my family would always fry chicken pieces and meatballs for the New Year,” Chi Zhao described to Fu Nan’an with a smile. “You know, those big iron woks, as big as your arms circled around. You could fry a lot of things at once, and you could smell the fragrance from far away.”

The Spring Festival was indeed Chi Zhao’s favorite holiday, not just for the fried food, but more because his parents wouldn’t hit him during those few days. Relatives would visit, and his parents were afraid he would cry and bring bad luck, and also afraid the relatives would gossip if they saw.

They would dress him in new clothes and teach him pretty things to say. Even if Chi Zhao did something wrong, they would be very magnanimous and tell him, “It’s fine, it’s the New Year.”

It’s just a pity that happy times were always short-lived. Once the New Year passed, everything changed. After the relatives left, his parents would revert to their old ways. All their frustrations were taken out on Chi Zhao, blaming him for not being as promising as the relatives’ children, beating him until he couldn’t even stand up, and the next day still making him do chores.

The topic became a bit heavy here. Actually, Chi Zhao hadn’t meant to steer it this way. Perhaps it was because it was so warm at Professor Fu’s place, or perhaps it was the bit of alcohol he’d had before coming, but he had unconsciously ended up talking about this.

“Let’s not talk about this anymore.” Chi Zhao touched his face. He hadn’t noticed anything before, but now he realized his face was red, probably from that can of beer. He smiled and said, “It was all so long ago. Actually, I don’t remember it clearly anymore.”

“Alright, we won’t talk about it.” If Chi Zhao didn’t want to speak, Fu Nan’an wouldn’t press. He just looked at Chi Zhao gently and said, “It’s all in the past.”

Chi Zhao made an affirming sound and repeated, “In the past.”

It was in the past. After frost and snow, even the harsh winter feels warm. Sitting in the bright room facing Fu Nan’an, with the heater right by the dining table, the dumplings were warm and so was his heart. There was no moment warmer than this. Riding on the warm atmosphere, Chi Zhao asked Fu Nan’an about his views on homosexuality. Fu Nan’an was silent for a moment, then said, “True love knows no gender.”

Professor Fu didn’t seem too willing to discuss topics of love, so Chi Zhao didn’t ask further. Getting this answer made him happy enough. After all, harboring that little secret thought, he didn’t want Fu Nan’an to dislike him.

A steaming hot meal of dumplings finished, and the distance between their hearts unconsciously closed. They chatted for a long time. Unknowingly, it passed midnight, and snowflakes began to fall outside. A layer of white snow covered the ground, and the originally noisy streets quieted down. After eating, they talked a while longer. When it was about time, Fu Nan’an asked Chi Zhao, “Would you like to stay here tonight?”

Chi Zhao rubbed his face and politely declined, “I should still go back.”

If Fu Nan’an hadn’t mentioned him leaving, Chi Zhao would have naturally stayed over. But now that it was brought up, he felt he had to be polite. When Fu Nan’an invited him, he had said “talk for a while.” Now they had eaten dumplings and seen in the New Year. He had already troubled Professor Fu for quite some time. The dormitory was only a ten-minute walk from Fu Nan’an’s home. Suggesting to stay over himself would seem rather presumptuous.

Chi Zhao went to the kitchen to wash the container, smiling somewhat apologetically. “I’ve been at your place for so long, it’s time I headed back. Don’t you think?”

He actually wanted Fu Nan’an to urge him to stay, deliberately using a rhetorical question, hoping to smoothly end up staying. Who knew Fu Nan’an would nod and say okay, not persuading him at all, and even reach out to hand him his coat from the rack. “Alright then, head back. Take care on the way.”

Chi Zhao choked slightly, not expecting things to develop this way. But the words were already said; he could only follow Fu Nan’an’s lead. “…Okay.”

It happened too fast. Chi Zhao truly hadn’t processed it. They were just having a warm conversation, and now he had to leave. His heart couldn’t quite accept it.

The door opened. The cold air outside rushed in sharply, forming a stark contrast with the warm room inside. Chi Zhao genuinely didn’t want to go. He dawdled slowly, upset at himself for not saying he wanted to stay earlier.

“Why are you standing there motionless?” Chi Zhao lingered at the entrance, not leaving. Fu Nan’an gave his back a slight push from behind. Perhaps it was this feeling of being pushed away that triggered Chi Zhao, or perhaps it was the alcohol from before coming over. In any case, Chi Zhao truly did not want to leave. The blood in his vessels grew restless. His body reacted before his mind could. His mind went blank with impulse, and he directly turned around and hugged Fu Nan’an.

“Professor Fu…” He buried his head against Fu Nan’an’s neck, nuzzling lightly, his voice carrying a hint of grievance. “Can I please not leave?”