Extra 4: 2025 New Year’s Day Extra

Translator: Abo Dammen

December 31, 2024.

Weather: Sunny.

At 6 PM sharp, Chi Zhao and Fu Nan’an sat together in the audience seats of the Ren’ai Welfare Home’s New Year’s performance, watching the innocent, smiling faces of the children on stage.

This was the welfare home where Chi Zhao had once lived.

In all the years since leaving the welfare home, Chi Zhao had maintained contact with the teachers there. During holidays, he would return to visit the teachers and children, and he also made regular donations to the home.

This year, the welfare home was holding a New Year’s performance event, and the director had called Chi Zhao immediately, hoping he could come see the children.

In recent years, the welfare home’s situation hadn’t been good. Funding was a major issue. Chi Zhao’s donations had been a great help to the home, something the old director had always remembered.

Back when Chi Zhao was at the welfare home, the director had been deeply impressed by this thin, small boy. The Chi Zhao of that time was far from as talkative as he is now. He didn’t like to speak and hid in corners every day reading books, but his eyes were bright and sparkling, possessing a spirited energy that people really liked.

In the last couple of years, Chi Zhao’s work had gotten increasingly busy, and the number of times he returned to the welfare home had indeed decreased significantly. Hearing the director’s request, he agreed immediately.

It was only upon arriving that Chi Zhao discovered the catch: the old director hadn’t just invited him to watch the performanc, she also wanted him to say a few words on stage, to set an example for the younger brothers and sisters.

Chi Zhao had come with Fu Nan’an. The two stood side by side. Chi Zhao didn’t say anything at the time, but after the old director left, his expression immediately fell, like a puppy that had been bullied.

Fu Nan’an naturally spotted the issue immediately. He smiled and asked him, “What’s this? Is our Teacher Chi not happy about going on stage?”

“Professor Fu, don’t tease me. Everyone knows you’re the expert at public speaking, able to pull it off effortlessly without preparation.” Chi Zhao gave him a pained smile and said, “I’m not like you. I’ve always been most afraid of going on stage, especially impromptu speeches like this.”

Fu Nan’an raised an eyebrow and said, “Didn’t you perform quite well on Doctors’ Day?”

Chi Zhao’s face flushed red, though it wasn’t clear what he remembered.

His face red, he glared at Fu Nan’an and said, “Don’t mention that day again!”

On Doctors’ Day, Chi Zhao had performed on stage as a young doctor. The act his group performed was… utterly cringe-worthy, something he’d rather not remember. And of course, Fu Nan’an had recorded it, watching it over and over.

That night, Chi Zhao had used many little tricks to make Fu Nan’an willingly delete those videos, leaving only a few photos.

“This time, you are not allowed to record videos of me again!” Chi Zhao remembered this crucial point and hurriedly warned Fu Nan’an. “I really don’t have a habit of reviewing my own embarrassments!”

“I really don’t think it was an embarrassment,” Fu Nan’an shook his head with a laugh, took Chi Zhao’s hand, and gently kneaded the back of it, saying, “You did your absolute best; there’s nothing to criticize.”

Chi Zhao opened his mouth, wanting to say something more, but Fu Nan’an continued, “Besides, for me, the time I get to see you is far too little. I want to record every precious moment… Could you bear to let me have such a regret?”

His tone was somewhat plaintive, as if Chi Zhao forbidding him from recording was an unforgivable crime.

“……”

Chi Zhao was silent for a long moment, then let out a soft sigh and conceded, “Fine, you can record if you want. I won’t stop you. Just don’t play it in front of me at night.”

After being together for so many years, Professor Fu’s skill at acting spoiled had clearly grown. He could now easily handle the very Teacher Chi who once had to teach him about “love.”

Of course, Chi Zhao was also very happy to be handled by him.

Fu Nan’an, knowing when to stop, smiled and agreed. He gave Chi Zhao’s hand another squeeze to reassure him. “It’ll be fine, don’t be nervous. Just say a few simple words. The audience is just a group of kids, your younger brothers and sisters. The old director didn’t ask you to come to deliver a long, literary speech. Your very presence itself sets a powerful example for them, even more than the content of your speech.”

Chi Zhao took a deep breath and let it out slowly, still somewhat worried. “I understand the logic, but as soon as I get on stage, my adrenaline spikes. I’m afraid I won’t be able to control myself and won’t be able to say a single word.”

“Then what should we do?” Fu Nan’an raised an eyebrow slightly, deliberately asking him, “Should we tell the director and cancel the impromptu speech, or should I go on stage for you and say a few simple words instead?”

“That won’t do!” Chi Zhao immediately retorted, his eyes wide. “The old director said the younger kids really want to see me, to hear me talk with them. How could I disappoint them?”

Only after speaking did he realize he’d fallen into the trap. Fu Nan’an was looking at him with a face full of laughter, his eyes filled with approval.

Chi Zhao shook his head somewhat helplessly and said, “Don’t worry, Professor Fu, I won’t run away at the last moment. With so many younger brothers and sisters here, I will prepare properly.”

Fu Nan’an gazed at him tenderly, his thumb gently pressing the fleshy area between Chi Zhao’s thumb and index finger. The slightly rough pad of his finger gave a sense of security. “Don’t be afraid,” he said. “I’ll be right there in the audience watching you.”

Professor Fu’s expertise wasn’t limited to just acting spoiled.

He was the jewel weighing securely on Chi Zhao’s heart. With him there, Chi Zhao’s heart could settle and find peace.

The time to go on stage arrived quickly. Chi Zhao stood on the stage, looking at the many innocent faces in the audience, so nervous he could barely speak. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Fu Nan’an’s gentle eyes.

Chi Zhao took a deep breath and finally began to speak: “Hello everyone, children… I’m your gege, Chi Zhao…”

Five minutes felt both short and long. Chi Zhao felt his hands, hanging at his sides, trembling uncontrollably, and the voice coming through the microphone was shaky too.

When he finished his last sentence, Chi Zhao felt as if he had just received a great pardon. His legs were like jelly as he walked off the stage. Returning to Fu Nan’an’s side, he didn’t even dare ask how he had done, afraid that Fu Nan’an would bring out the recorded video. It would be too embarrassing.

Finally, the old director walked over, patted Chi Zhao on the shoulder, and said with a smile, “You spoke very well, Xiao Chi. The children sitting near me clapped so hard their palms turned red.”

After the director left, Chi Zhao mustered a little courage, poked the hand of Fu Nan’an beside him, and asked in a hushed tone, “How… how was I just now?”

The performance on stage was still ongoing, cheerful music echoing around them. Fu Nan’an tilted his head slightly, his warm breath brushing against Chi Zhao’s neck. “Do you want the truth or a white lie?” he asked.

Chi Zhao really had no confidence in himself. He hesitated for a moment, then said to Fu Nan’an, almost like he was acting spoiled, “Whether it’s the truth or a lie, just praise me, Professor Fu.”

“Then it’s the truth,” Fu Nan’an said with a low chuckle. He then reined in his smile, his tone turning serious. “Naturally, there were flaws. You were nervous, you stumbled over your words, it was a bit halting. But the overall feeling was that it came from the heart. People could sense what you wanted to express.”

Chi Zhao was stunned by his praise. It took him a long moment before he broke into a smile, his eyes curving into happy crescents. “You’re just too good at complimenting people. No wonder you’re a psychology professor.”

“I said it’s the truth,” Fu Nan’an replied with a somewhat helpless sigh. He made a move to take out his phone. “I recorded the video. If you don’t believe me, see for yourself—”

“No, no!” Chi Zhao shook his head decisively, his expression firm. “I’d rather starve to death, die outside, or jump off from here than watch that video you took!”

Fu Nan’an didn’t press him, promptly and neatly putting his phone away. “Alright,” he said. “If you don’t want to watch it, then you don’t have to.”

The performance ended. Several teachers came over one after another, praising Chi Zhao for his good speech. A little girl even came running over happily and gave Chi Zhao a bouquet of flowers she had made herself from wild grasses.

When they returned home, the two sat together on the sofa. Chi Zhao was visibly restless. With a fawning expression, he scooted closer to Fu Nan’an. “Professor Fu,” he said, “when will you be done using your phone? Can you let me see that video you took?”

Fu Nan’an had originally been using his phone to handle emails. Hearing this, he turned the phone face down on the sofa beside him. “Who was it that said tonight, ‘I’d rather starve to death than watch the video’? I don’t seem to remember. Do you remember, Teacher Chi?”

“Don’t tease me, Professor,” Chi Zhao continued to snuggle against him, his tone quite matter-of-fact. “They all said my speech was good. Of course I want to see what exactly I said.”

“‘They’?” Fu Nan’an raised an eyebrow, deliberately teasing him. “Meaning you didn’t believe what I said?”

Realizing his slip of the tongue, Chi Zhao’s tone instantly softened. He hummed pleadingly, “How could that be, Professor? I believe you the most. I like you the most. I love you the most…”

“Mmm, I love you too.”

The ever-elegant and upright Professor Fu was very easy to appease and quite pleased by this. He lowered his head to kiss the corner of Chi Zhao’s lips, then handed him the phone. “It’s in the photo album. Find it yourself.”

There were no secrets between their phones; they could look through each other’s anytime. Since Fu Nan’an told him to look, Chi Zhao openly did so, found the video from the evening, and looked at the screen with anticipation.

The moment the sound started, Chi Zhao cringed so hard he could have dug a hole with his toes. He steeled himself and kept listening, feeling so embarrassed his scalp tingled.

Admittedly, the speech wasn’t as bad as he had imagined, but it was clearly not an exemplary one either. At best, it was a passable speech, neither remarkable nor faulty, hardly worthy of so much praise from everyone, nor of being treasured in Fu Nan’an’s phone.

The video ended automatically when it finished playing. Chi Zhao handed the phone back to Fu Nan’an as if tossing away a hot potato, his face red as he said, “I get it now. Next time, I won’t believe a single word any of you say. Especially you, Professor Fu, you’re just completely spoiling me.”

“Is it really that exaggerated?” Fu Nan’an shook his head with a helpless laugh. “I can’t accept your accusation. Every word I said was sincere.”

Chi Zhao frowned. “Then your judgment must be off.”

Fu Nan’an narrowed his eyes slightly, placed a hand on Chi Zhao’s shoulder, and squeezed the back of his neck in a threatening manner. “I’ll give you one more chance.”

Chi Zhao’s eyes widened slightly, wanting to say something more, but Fu Nan’an pinched his chin and kissed him, his voice lowered. “…I won’t allow you to speak that way about my beloved.”

“Mmph…”

Fu Nan’an kissed him until he was almost breathless. It was a long time before Fu Nan’an finally released him, tenderly wiping away the physiological tears that had welled up in the corners of Chi Zhao’s eyes. His tone softened as he asked, “Which parts do you feel you didn’t express well enough? If you don’t mind, shall we analyze the reasons?”

“This is hard to describe specifically…” Chi Zhao’s cheeks were still flushed, but he nestled naturally against Fu Nan’an’s side. “It’s mainly because I’ve heard you give speeches so many times. You’re always so good, forthright and natural, quoting classics with ease. Compared to you, I fall far short.”

Fu Nan’an smiled, not refuting him, and simply said, “I remember when we first met, you bumped into me and were so stammering you could barely speak. Isn’t that right?”

Chi Zhao was taken aback, not expecting him to bring that up.

Fu Nan’an continued, “Later, even by university graduation, you weren’t much better. I attended your graduation speech too. You stood on the stage, so nervous you had to pause and catch your breath after just a few sentences.”

Chi Zhao clearly recalled the scene and was about to plead with Fu Nan’an again, but Fu Nan’an didn’t give him the chance. “The you of now is indeed not perfect yet, I admit all the objective issues. But I’ve watched you progress step by step. I know you’ve been constantly transforming all these years.”

Fu Nan’an’s hand still rested on Chi Zhao’s shoulder. His palm was dry and firm, pressing against Chi Zhao’s neck, imparting a sense of undeniable strength.

“When I first met you back then, I never imagined that awkward, impulsive youth would grow into the person you are now.” Fu Nan’an looked at Chi Zhao with those slightly dimmed eyes of his, eyes given to him by Chi Zhao, and now holding only Chi Zhao’s reflection. His voice was full of warmth and laughter as he said, “You are the most outstanding young person I’ve met in all these years. That has never been a lie. You still have plenty of time to grow, enough to become exactly who you want to be.”

The corners of Chi Zhao’s eyes grew bright and shiny again, but not with the same physiological tears as before.

His voice was slightly muffled. “Professor Fu, you seem to have forgotten the most important thing.”

Fu Nan’an: “What?”

Chi Zhao raised his arms and wrapped them around Fu Nan’an’s neck, looking earnestly into his eyes. “I will keep growing, keep striving upward, but you must always, always stay by my side.”