Chapter 69 Mood Forecast

Chapter 69: Weather Forecast

In the morning, Shen Ci had a dream—he wasn’t sure if it was his first time or not.

Today, when Shen Shiyan called him to get up, he was a bit reluctant. After dozing off and on for a while, he woke up to find he was almost late. He changed into clean clothes, grabbed the sandwich from the table, and rushed out the door without even making his bed.

Shen Shiyan didn’t think much of it and slowly began tidying up.

Suddenly, his hand paused. His eyes swept across the bedsheet, and without a word, he stripped off the sheets the housekeeper had just changed yesterday and threw them into the washing machine.

Second period had just ended. During the ten-minute break, Shen Ci decided to tackle the last big problem on his test paper. He flipped it over and noticed a few slightly crooked lines of handwriting in the blank space at the bottom—a concise problem-solving approach.

He had taken off in a hurry yesterday, so Shen Shiyan must have packed his backpack.

When the bell rang for class, Shen Ci’s heartbeat quickened. He tore off a Post-it note, quickly wrote out the correct answer following the given approach, and pasted it above the problem. Then, he took scissors and cut out the part where Shen Shiyan had written, cutting it into a neat square.

The math teacher began the lesson.

Shen Ci’s racing heart didn’t calm down with the bell, but he listened attentively. While the teacher wrote on the board, he took out the little paper scrap and looked at it, the more he looked at it, the cuter he thought the handwriting was.

“Are you dating someone?” Song Qiuchi asked during the next break as she prepared materials for the upcoming class.

Shen Ci was a bit dazed. “No? What’s there to date for?”

“Then why have you been smiling at that piece of paper all class?” Song Qiuchi rested her elbow on the desk, chin propped on her hand, watching him.

“It’s not…” Shen Ci smiled again and generously placed the paper scrap on Song Qiuchi’s desk. “My daddy wrote this with his left hand. Cute, right?”

Song Qiuchi: “…”

The end of June passed with Shen Ci still feeling awkward about that day’s sex ed lesson, and then summer vacation—and the peak of summer—arrived.

The stuff he brought back from school was all piled up in the study. Shen Ci sat on a stack of textbooks, feeling the AC cool air creep into his collar.

“Daddy, I want to go out this afternoon. I promised to treat Chen Bufan and Xiao Song to a meal, just the three of us.”

Shen Ci had plenty of freedom at home, but he still made a habit of checking in with Shen Shiyan.

“Mm.” Shen Shiyan was flipping through Shen Ci’s summer homework. “Do you have enough money?”

“I can’t even spend it all,” Shen Ci teased. There was a thick stack of consecutively numbered red envelopes just sitting in the cabinet, and every time he went out, Shen Shiyan would transfer him some extra just in case.

“Where are you going to eat? I’ll have the driver drive you.” Shen Shiyan put down the math homework, which was already above the eighth-grade level.

“No need, Daddy.” Shen Ci stood up. “It’s not far from Yunxi. I’ll skateboard there.”

Over the past few years, Shen Ci had been pretty spoiled. Shen Shiyan was always nervous about him going out alone—not just because he might eat something bad and mess up his stomach again, but more because the Shen family was a mess. Even at school, a place as conspicuous as this, Shen Rong had picked on Shen Ci several times; being off school grounds was even riskier.

“What are you going to eat?” Shen Shiyan started tidying the desk.

“A place on Yunbei Road called something like ‘Secret Spiced Bullfrog.’ Chen Bufan says their bullfrog hotpot is amazing.” Shen Ci figured Shen Shiyan wouldn’t know this place; he always did business at fancy restaurants.

Shen Shiyan frowned a little. “Is it all spicy?”

“The name makes it sound that way.” Shen Ci’s voice faded from the study, then came back. He stood at the study door, now in a fresh white outfit. “But I don’t think so—hotpot always has different kinds of broth. Actually, the spicy kind is tastier, the meat is really tender. Too bad I can’t eat it… well, maybe just a little…”

Shen Shiyan watched him leave and come back to the door, each time with a few more accessories or trinkets. This time, he was carrying a skateboard.

“Mild spice is fine.” Shen Shiyan lowered his head. “Don’t go overboard. Be home before eleven.”

“Got it!” Shen Ci didn’t think he was being naggy; his face broke into a bright smile.

“Mm. Call me if anything happens.”

Shen Ci answered a WeChat voice call from Song Qiuchi, nodding to Shen Shiyan as he confirmed the location. Only after getting Shen Shiyan’s response did he wave and head out.

The door clicked shut, and the whole side courtyard went quiet.

The study floor and desk were covered with Shen Ci’s materials. Shen Shiyan sighed and started putting the books one by one into the empty shelves in the back. The bookshelf covered an entire wall, split into two sections. On the left were Shen Shiyan’s textbooks and notes from his tutoring sessions, along with some leisure reading. The other side looked far more childish: the first book was *Fifth Grade Math (Volume 2)*, and in sequence, the last was *Second-Year Junior High Sprint (Physics)*, which Shen Shiyan had just put up.

After arranging everything by height, Shen Shiyan turned to his own section. The compartment at the very top, where the foxtail grass rabbit sat, now had a custom sliding glass door. The metal track was smooth, opening almost silently.

Inside, items were arranged from small to large, but because each piece differed in color and shape, the order was neat yet chaotic.

Shen Ci often gave him handmade things. Shen Shiyan’s fingertips paused over a somewhat ugly clay figurine. There was no dust on it, and it seemed to still retain the warmth of Shen Ci’s fingers from when he first tried pottery at twelve.

The figurine showed two little people: the taller one was Shen Shiyan, the shorter one was Shen Ci.

A trace of tenderness flickered in Shen Shiyan’s eyes. Pulling himself from the memory, he closed the cabinet door, gathered Shen Ci’s summer homework and commonly used books from the desk, and arranged them meticulously.

A pen fell and rolled to the back of the desk. Shen Shiyan bent down to pick it up. With his arm prosthetic still being repaired, he looked clumsy and uncoordinated. As he steadied himself on the desk, he accidentally knocked off an English vocabulary book sitting at the edge. With a *shush* sound, the pages fluttered in the air. In the two seconds it took to fall, a thin pink envelope slipped out from between the pages, with a rabbit drawn on the front. It floated a few times before landing at Shen Shiyan’s feet.

“To Shen Ci, Personal.”

Shen Shiyan saw the words written on it, but the envelope wasn’t sealed. A matching pink letter paper poked out from the opening, as if flaunting its sender’s feelings for Shen Ci. The writer had put in effort; from the clear outlines on the back, the first sentence was probably something like, “Classmate, I like you.”

Annoying. Shen Shiyan’s mood turned from sunny to cloudy.

He struggled with himself for a long time but ultimately didn’t read the full letter. He placed it back exactly where it was in the vocabulary book.

The last test paper was put away, and the study returned to its previous tidiness.

The room was quiet. Shen Shiyan pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling he was meddling too much, and afraid that over time, Shen Ci would stop listening to him—or even shut him out of his life and feelings entirely.

Cloudy turned to stormy.

At 9:48 PM, two things lay before him: one was the love letter he’d taken out again, from some unknown sender to Shen Ci; the other was his phone, displaying Shen Ci’s messages.

“Shen Ci: Daddy, we’re done eating!!”

“Shen Ci: The navigation says I’ll be home in 25 minutes!!”

The tone and repeated exclamation marks showed Shen Ci was in a great mood.

Shen Shiyan didn’t reply. At 10:08, five minutes before the navigation time Shen Ci had sent.

The love letter was tucked into an economics history book Shen Shiyan rarely read.

Kids this age shouldn’t date, Shen Shiyan thought firmly.

Whether Shen Ci had seen the letter or not, Shen Shiyan had already decided to act.

Soon, Shen Ci arrived home. Shen Shiyan probed a bit and quickly concluded that Shen Ci had no idea the letter existed.

Shen Shiyan felt his breathing ease slightly. He rested his chin on the back of his hand, listening to Shen Ci rave about how delicious the bullfrog hotpot at Secret Spiced Bullfrog was, mixed in with gossip from Yunxi the three of them had discussed at the table. When it came to the exciting parts, the light in Shen Ci’s eyes seemed to sparkle.

Actually, he wasn’t sure if it really sparkled, but Shen Shiyan loved looking into his eyes. Right now, he felt a sudden urge to kiss them.

Stormy turned to partly cloudy.

Lost in thought, Shen Ci called him several times—from “Daddy” to “Brother” to a drawn-out “Ge,” and back to “Daddy.”

“Daddy! Are you even listening to me?”

Snapping back, he curved his lips and nodded.

Partly cloudy turned to sunny.