Chapter 74 Side Story 6

Chapter 74: Extra Story 6

It was a beautiful, sunny day.

A few days ago, Uncle Li went back to his hometown to visit relatives, leaving the two useless bums—can't cook, can't do housework—alone in the house. Considering Shen Gali’s health required light meals, Nan Liujing volunteered to take over both meals. But in the end, it turned out he couldn’t make anything besides pumpkin porridge.

Some people are brilliant at work and school, but trip over the littlest things in everyday life.

With Uncle Li gone, Nan Liujing finally had a chance to have some alone time with Shen Gali. Hiring a housekeeper to cook? No way.

Shen Gali was quiet to begin with, but faced with Nan Liujing's cooking—so bad even a dog wouldn't touch it—he became even more silent. At most, he’d nibble on some side dishes that could be eaten raw, then quickly put down his chopsticks and headed upstairs to lie down.

Nan Liujing couldn’t understand it either. He had followed the recipe strictly, measuring every seasoning exactly, yet the result was nothing to write home about. Why?!

While Shen Gali was lying around upstairs, Nan Liujing sat in the living room, absentmindedly flipping through channels, wondering how to up his cooking game.

Then, he stumbled upon an interview program.

The host stopped a random person passing by and asked, "Are you married?"

The passerby replied, "Yes."

"Do you think your marriage is happy?"

"Happy!" The instant the passerby said "happy," their eyes lit up, making it seem like she really meant it. "My husband is amazing. He knows everything—astronomy, geography, history, you name it—and he takes care of all the household chores and even fixes appliances. You have no idea how ridiculously handsome he looks when he's fixing stuff. And on top of that, he earns well. On holidays, he just stays home with me and our son instead of running around."

Nan Liujing listened as the passerby went on and on about "my husband." It suddenly hit him: Shen Gali had never once called him "husband." Most of the time Shen Gali didn't even call him anything. On the rare occasions when he was angry, he'd use his full name: "Nan Liujing."

Could it be that Shen Gali wasn't happy in their marriage, so he couldn't even be bothered to say "husband"? So this is the famous marital crisis people talk about?

Knowing Shen Gali, Nan Liujing wouldn't be surprised if one day he said, "I don't want to go on anymore."

Nan Liujing tried to imagine Shen Gali softly calling him "husband."

His heart itched, his fingers tingled, and wave after wave of warmth flooded his body.

What had that passerby said? One had to be knowledgeable, skilled at fixing things to give a sense of security, and offer love and companionship. At the very least, you had to do those things to deserve being called "husband."

Lunchtime.

They sat across from each other in silence, eating the same old takeout.

Shen Gali snuck a glance at Nan Liujing and noticed his furrowed brows and quiet mood. Suddenly, he felt bad for being so cold lately, always brushing off his attempts to talk with a half-hearted "mmhmm."

Had he been too harsh?

In the past, he would have been happy if Nan Liujing left him alone for some peace and quiet. But things were different now. He admitted he loved this man, and sometimes he wanted to consider his feelings.

But even if he initiated a conversation, what should he say?

What a drag. Why do people even need to talk? Why couldn’t they just communicate with emojis like in chat apps?

As luck would have it, the TV in the living room, still on, announced:

"On the afternoon of the 18th, a major fire broke out at a warehouse in Jinhai. Thick smoke billowed, and firefighters rushed to the scene..."

Shen Gali took the opening: "Where in Jinhai?"

He wanted to ask which district the warehouse was in, though he didn’t really care. But at least it would break the ice.

Nan Liujing’s heart leaped at Shen Gali’s sudden question, but then sank in an instant.

He hadn’t been paying attention to the news at all.

But! He had to answer his wife’s question and show off his vast knowledge, so she'd admire and respect him.

Nan Liujing: "Jinhai… a warehouse."

Shen Gali: …

Forget it. Let's just drop the conversation.

Shen Gali fell silent, and Nan Liujing knew he had killed the conversation again.

Where in Jinhai?

Jinhai a warehouse.

This pointless exchange not only failed to earn him any credit with his wife, it just confirmed the stereotype that he's brain-dead.

The last time Nan Liujing felt like crying was when Shen Gali fell into the water and didn't even struggle. This time, it was because he'd blown the conversation.

That afternoon.

Nan Liujing sat in front of the TV, rubbing his temples in anguish. A foreign drama was playing on the screen, but he couldn't care less. His mind was stuck on the awkward lunch conversation.

He'd finally managed to climb up in Shen Gali's estimation—to the level of a toilet plunger. But now he was back to square one.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps behind him.

Nan Liujing quickly grabbed a financial magazine off the table, sat up straight, and tried to look refined as he casually flipped through it.

After thinking it over in his room, Shen Gali decided he should be the one to start a conversation. Though his top priority was still being a lazy bum, he'd managed to nap for a couple of hours before coming downstairs.

Noticing *Game of Thrones* playing on TV, Shen Gali acted like he didn't recognize it and asked casually, "What drama is this? Looks interesting. What’s its name?"

Nan Liujing, this is your shot. Don't mess it up.

Nan Liujing immediately looked up at the screen. He hadn't watched the show, so he figured the title was probably displayed in a corner of the screen. Scanning around, he finally spotted four characters in the bottom right corner.

He needed to answer his wife's question confidently and fast:

"Compound Shuanlong."

Shen Gali: …

Fine, I'm done talking.

The moment the words left his mouth, Nan Liujing realized that the text in the corner wasn't the drama's title—it was an ad for Compound Shuanlong, a medicine.

Hah.

The heartless capitalist, running such a huge ad just to make sure I embarrass myself in front of my wife—are you satisfied now?

Nan Liujing glanced at Shen Gali out of the corner of his eye and saw that he was looking at him as if he were some alien creature.

Nan Liujing couldn't take it. "I must have misread it. The ad placement these days is really excessive—ads cover way too much of the screen. I'm going to call and complain."

But government hotlines are always like that; even when Nan Liujing called, they'd still pass the buck. Nan Liujing spent the whole afternoon making seven or eight calls, and finally got his complaint through.

But by then, Shen Gali had already gone back to his room and was lying down.

"I filed the complaint successfully. Don't worry, from now on when you watch TV, there won't be any ads blocking the screen." Nan Liujing entered the bedroom, confidently bragging.

But Shen Gali completely ignored him, idly tapping away on his laptop keyboard.

"What's wrong? Computer trouble?" Nan Liujing looked at the blue screen, feeling secretly pleased.

He knew computers. Finally, he could impress his wife.

Shen Gali was about to say it looked like a system crash that needed a reinstall.

He turned his head, and Nan Liujing left and came back with a toolbox.

Shen Gali: ?

Nan Liujing's mind was now full of that line from the street interview: "My husband looks so handsome when he repairs appliances." Whether the computer problem was system-related or not, he was going to take that computer apart today.

He rolled up his sleeves, revealing his strong, sinewy forearms with visible veins.

He even tossed the screwdriver into the air, let it spin two hundred sixty degrees, caught it firmly and gripped it, the muscles in his forearm bulging slightly as he did so.

Then, Shen Gali watched as he deftly removed the computer case, smoothly took out each component, inspected and wiped them one by one, and then put them back. His tight, pursed lips formed a sharp, handsome line; the whole process was professional and smooth.

Nan Liujing glanced at Shen Gali's face out of the corner of his eye, his heart skipping a beat. Finally, he saw a hint of admiration on that usually indifferent face. Shen Gali's eyes, glistening and dark, were fixed on his hands like a kitten gazing at a god, as if the next words would be:

"Honey, you're so amazing. I admire you so much."

"I checked. It's not a motherboard problem; it's a system problem." Nan Liujing reassembled the computer, pulled out a tissue, and slowly dabbed at his hands.

He deliberately lowered his voice to sound like a knowledgeable insider.

But Shen Gali said, "What's this?"

Nan Liujing followed his finger.

A screw.

He looked at the reassembled computer case.

Great. It wasn't even a screw from the case; it was a screw from an internal component.

Shen Gali restrained himself as much as he could, but still couldn't help saying, "Stop messing with it. Just take it to a repair shop."

Crackle, crack.

Shen Gali seemed to hear a sound. "What broke?"

Nan Liujing smiled calmly. "Nothing."

Just my fragile, manly heart that was so eager to show off in front of my wife.

The computer was still sent for repairs. This time, it was Nan Liujing who fell silent.

After he came out of the shower, he saw Shen Gali leaning against the headboard, holding an iPad, watching a variety show starring Bai Wei. He was so focused, a level of focus he never showed when looking at Nan Liujing.

Nan Liujing sighed softly, dried his half-wet hair, and got into bed.

He thought this long night would be spent with the variety show as background noise. But just as he got into bed, a smooth, pale leg hooked around him, gently rubbing against him. The mix of their body heat dried the lingering dampness from his shower.

Nan Liujing looked at Shen Gali, who was trying to seduce him, but his eyes were still glued to the screen, his expression half-hearted.

But faced with that half-heartedness, he still felt relieved.

Shen Gali was trying to be considerate of his feelings.

This was just the way Shen Gali was. Maybe this half-hearted gesture was the best he could manage. There was no need to force him to prioritize one person over another; it would be too exhausting for him to please everyone.

Nan Liujing turned over and got on top, pressing his hands under the slightly parted hem of Shen Gali's shirt, his palms sliding outward against the skin, his fingertips hooking the hem and slowly pushing the clothes aside.

Shen Gali felt a tickling sensation on his chest, making it impossible to focus on the show. He pushed the iPad aside.

The overhead light was white and harsh, but Nan Liujing's body blocked it.

His thoughts began to blur, and the words he had originally wanted to say suddenly felt too complicated and long-winded.

In the end, all that came out was, "Every time I look at you, I'm actually really happy."

Nan Liujing raised an eyebrow, deliberately poked around the edge of the little daisy, and said, "And so?"

Shen Gali's mind formed a long string of words, but his thoughts were too jumbled to get them out.

"Whatever."

Others might not understand Shen Gali, but Nan Liujing certainly did.

"Whatever" in certain contexts was code for a firm "hurry up."

But he wasn't going to. If he couldn't be a warrior in life, at least he'd be a god of war in bed.

"What can I say? If I don't hear what I want, my little guy gets all limp."

"Honey!" Shen Gali gritted his teeth, raised both hands, and smacked his face. "Hurry up!"

Nan Liujing smirked and leaned down.

Although this wasn't the gentle, breezy "honey" he had imagined, but rather intense and rough, still, his heart felt just as he had fantasized—tingly and numb.

This was the sweetest thing he had ever heard Shen Gali say.