Chapter 9 Don’t Look at Him Like That

Chapter 9: Don't Look at Him That Way

Xie Fengshi could barely lift his legs by the time he got off work.

Aunt Lin’s "works one person like three" was no joke. Good Fortune had been nonstop busy since meal times began. Uncle Li was flipping the wok up front, while Xie Fengshi prepped ingredients, plated dishes, and washed dishes in the back. Aunt Lin came in midway to ask if he was tired. He kept saying "Not at all, not at all" while his hands never stopped moving.

By the time the last table of customers left, Xie Fengshi felt like his hands weren't his own anymore.

"Xiao Xie, hard work today," Aunt Lin handed him warm water. "Get some rest when you go back. It's fine if you come in a little late tomorrow."

Xie Fengshi downed it in one gulp, wiped his mouth, and said, "No worries, Aunt Lin. I'll come at my usual time tomorrow."

Aunt Lin smiled. "Alright, do what you think is best. Don't push yourself too hard."

Xie Fengshi acknowledged with a nod, untied his apron, and headed out. The night breeze hit him, making him shiver. He pulled his jacket tighter and dragged his legs toward the apartment building.

When he reached the building, he couldn't help but look up. It was pitch black, with only a few scattered windows still lit. He trudged up the stairs, the hallway light flickered weakly, half-dead as usual. He fumbled for his keys and walked toward his door. Halfway there—

"Xie Fengshi."

Xie Fengshi jumped in fright, nearly dropping his keys.

He followed the sound and saw a dark shape crouching in front of his door, tilting its head up to look at him.

Xie Fengshi clutched his chest. "Isaac! What are you doing squatting there?! You scared me to death!"

Isaac stood up slowly, wobbling a bit from having crouched so long. Xie Fengshi quickly reached out to steady him. "Why didn't you go back to your own place?"

Isaac stepped aside, revealing a huge supermarket shopping bag behind him. Xie Fengshi took a look—good grief, that bag was enormous, stuffed to the brim.

Xie Fengshi instantly understood. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Did you bring the whole supermarket back?"

Isaac shook his head. "I only bought enough to eat."

"Enough for how many days?"

"Tomorrow."

Well, Isaac's definition of "enough" was probably different from normal people's.

"So you've been waiting here for me?"

Isaac nodded.

"How long?"

"Not long."

Xie Fengshi didn't call him out on it. He bent down to grab the shopping bag, but Isaac stopped him as soon as his hand touched it. "I'll do it."

Isaac picked up the bag with one hand, effortlessly. Xie Fengshi looked at his own slender arms, then at Isaac's large frame, and silently withdrew his hand. "Fine, go ahead."

Xie Fengshi pulled out his keys and unlocked his door, then stepped aside to let Isaac in first. But Isaac didn't move. Xie Fengshi looked at him, puzzled. "What's wrong? Come in."

Isaac, still holding the bag, said, "Let's go to my place today. It's a bit bigger than yours."

In all the time they'd known each other, this was Isaac's first time inviting Xie Fengshi over. Xie Fengshi was curious, but he knew his place. If the other person didn't bring it up, he wouldn't push.

Xie Fengshi agreed readily. "Sure, but let's get this straight—I only do the cooking. You do the dishes."

Isaac nodded. His room was at the other end of the hallway. Today, Xie Fengshi finally got a chance to see it.

Isaac walked ahead with the huge shopping bag in one hand, stopped at his own door, and fished out his keys. When the door opened, Xie Fengshi peeked inside. Even though he had mentally prepared himself, he still couldn't help feeling jealous.

This wasn't just "a little bigger"—it was "a lot bigger"!

The room before him was in a completely different dimension from his ten-square-meter matchbox. Xie Fengshi was speechless for a moment.

The craziest thing was that there was even a small partitioned area. Through the half-open door, he saw a simple kitchen with a stove, sink, and refrigerator—everything one could need. Compared to his "kitchen," which was basically the area just inside his door, this was leagues better.

Xie Fengshi didn't know whether to go in or back out.

Isaac saw that he wasn't coming in and got a bit nervous. "What's wrong?"

Xie Fengshi turned and said, "You call this a bit bigger?"

Isaac thought about it seriously, then corrected himself. "A lot bigger."

"..."

Isaac carried the shopping bag inside and set it on the kitchen counter. He turned back to see Xie Fengshi still standing at the doorway. "Come in."

Xie Fengshi finally stepped inside. The second his feet hit the carpet, he felt instantly comfortable.

Xie Fengshi couldn't help stepping on it a few more times. He'd spent so long in a hospital bed, and since arriving here, he'd been stuck in that ten-square-meter room with a bed so hard that it took him days to get used to it, and even then barely.

Isaac saw him standing still after entering. "What's wrong?"

Xie Fengshi looked up with a sincere expression. "Where did you buy this carpet? I want to buy one too."

Isaac considered it. "I don't know. It came from home."

Hearing that, Xie Fengshi dropped it. He decided to forget he asked.

Then Xie Fengshi's eyes landed on the beanbag chair. It looked so soft that once you sank in, you'd probably never get out.

Isaac noticed where Xie Fengshi was looking. "Sit down."

Xie Fengshi shuffled toward the beanbag, saying, "Oh, how nice of you, but I still have to cook."

Then he plopped down. Holy crap, this was way too comfy!

He sank into the chair, going completely limp, and his eyes narrowed in contentment. All this time, he'd been working like a dog and going back to his little room to lie down on a hard bed. When did he ever get treated like this?

Isaac saw Xie Fengshi's eyes half-closed as he lounged in the beanbag like a cat that had finally found a cozy spot. "You can come over anytime," he said.

Xie Fengshi opened one eye to look at him. "Really?"

Isaac nodded.

Xie Fengshi closed his eyes again. "Nah, if I come too often, it won't be special anymore," he said lazily.

Isaac didn't quite understand Xie Fengshi's quirky logic, but he didn't push it. He turned and went to the kitchen to organize the items in the shopping bag.

Xie Fengshi lay sprawled on the beanbag for a few minutes before finally forcing himself up. He had to—if he stayed any longer, he'd never want to move.

He walked over to the little kitchen, where Isaac had already taken everything out and neatly arranged it on the counter.

Xie Fengshi glanced over and had a pretty good idea of what to make: "Tonight we'll have braised pork belly and stir-fried greens. For the leftovers, you can reheat them yourself tomorrow. Just stick the rest of the dishes in the fridge."

Isaac nodded in agreement.

Xie Fengshi picked up the brand-new apron hanging nearby and started working.

This kitchen was way more convenient than his pathetic excuse for a kitchen. The stove height was just right, the knives were comfortable to use, and most importantly, there was enough space that even if Isaac stood nearby watching, he wouldn't accidentally knock into him when turning around.

He first took out the meat to prepare it. He cut the pork belly into cubes, put them in cold water to blanch and get rid of the smell, while working he couldn't help remarking, "Your kitchen is seriously amazing, a thousand times better than mine."

Isaac stood by watching him work: "You can cook at my place from now on."

Xie Fengshi didn't stop his movements: "No way, using this kitchen once would make me addicted. And going back to my crappy kitchen would totally depress me."

Isaac didn't speak, but his expression said it all.

—Just cook here then.

Xie Fengshi pretended not to notice and focused on the meat in the pot.

He fished out the blanched meat and drained it. He added just a tiny bit of oil to the pan and added the meat pieces, stir-frying them. The pork belly sizzled in the pan, slowly rendering out fat, the surface turning a nice golden brown. Xie Fengshi used chopsticks to flip each piece one by one, his movements practiced.

Isaac watched intently. Xie Fengshi caught his expression from the corner of his eye and found it amusing. In all the time he'd known him, Isaac usually showed little interest in anything—except when it came to food. When it was mealtime, he couldn't hide his excitement.

When the meat was nicely browned, he took it out and set it aside. Using the rendered fat, Xie Fengshi added rock sugar to the pot and made caramel over low heat. The rock sugar slowly melted in the hot oil, turning into amber syrup. Then he tossed the meat back in and stir-fried, coating the pieces in a beautiful caramel color. He added cooking wine, light soy sauce, and dark soy sauce, then poured in boiling water until it covered the meat. He threw in two star anise and a small cinnamon stick, and a few slices of ginger, covered the pot, and let it simmer on low heat.

"Let it simmer; it'll be done soon."

Isaac had been watching the whole time: "Are you tired?"

Xie Fengshi smiled: "I'm fine, I'm used to it."

He said it casually, but Isaac frowned when he heard it: "If you get tired, just don't cook."

Xie Fengshi was taken aback: "Then you're not eating?"

"I can just get something from the convenience store."

Xie Fengshi laughed at his words: "You'd eat convenience store food? Who was it that told me convenience store sandwiches are disgusting last time?"

"That's a different story."

Xie Fengshi shook his head: "Don't worry about it. Cooking doesn't tire me out, really. Having someone waiting for me to come home for dinner... it feels good."

Xie Fengshi washed the greens and drained them, then put the rice on to cook. After finishing, he dried his hands and looked back to see Isaac still standing at the doorway, staring at the braising pot.

Xie Fengshi walked over and patted his arm: "Stop staring, it won't be ready for a while. Go sit in the living room and wait."

Isaac didn't really want to move, but Xie Fengshi had already headed for the living room, so he had no choice but to follow.

Xie Fengshi threw himself onto the ridiculously comfortable sofa. The moment he sank into it, he let out a satisfied sigh.

He was genuinely tired. The shop was crazy busy today—his wrists were sore from chopping vegetables, stood all afternoon, and his legs were still wobbly. But this kind of tired was real—it made him feel alive.

Xie Fengshi curled up on the sofa, finding a comfortable position, staring blankly at the ceiling. The sofa was so soft that his whole body relaxed, and his eyelids began to droop uncontrollably.

Isaac was right there. Seeing Xie Fengshi's eyes open and close intermittently like a phone on low battery that refuses to shut off, he said, "Just go to sleep."

Xie Fengshi mumbled "mm" in response: "Wake me when the meat's done..."

Before he finished speaking, his eyes closed.

Isaac noticed that Xie Fengshi's breathing had quickly turned steady. His black hair lay softly across his forehead. Curled up on the sofa, he looked smaller than usual. His cheeks were slightly puffed from the pressure of the sofa, making him look like a curled-up sleeping cat, all soft and fluffy.

Isaac watched for two seconds, then quietly fetched a blanket and draped it over Xie Fengshi. Xie Fengshi stirred a little, burrowing his face into the blanket and falling into a deeper sleep.

Only then did Isaac get up to check the stove in the kitchen. The pot was bubbling away, and the smell of braised pork belly got stronger. The whole room smelled amazing, making your mouth water. Isaac sniffed, turned the heat down a little, and continued to let it simmer.

He had just returned to the living room and sat down when there was a knock at the door.

Isaac frowned. Who would come at this hour? He'd lived here for so long, and no one but Xie Fengshi had ever knocked on his door.

When he opened the door, Kaelen stood outside, one hand in his coat pocket, the other still in the pose of knocking. Seeing the door open, he raised an eyebrow: "Good evening."

Isaac completely blocked the doorway, showing no intention of moving aside: "How did you find my specific room?"

"I looked it up."

"That's a violation of my privacy."

"You're my brother."

Isaac wanted to retort, but the meat aroma was too strong—so strong that his stomach spoke up before he could.

Kaelen's gaze traveled over his shoulder into the room. He could smell it too—it was impossible to ignore.

"You're cooking?" Kaelen's tone carried obvious surprise.

Isaac kept a straight face: "What, is that not allowed?"

Kaelen looked his younger brother up and down skeptically: "You can cook?"

"I didn't make it."

Kaelen understood: "Xie Fengshi."

Isaac didn't deny it, blocking the door even tighter. Kaelen wasn't in a hurry: "You've gotten fat and learned to hoard your food?"

"You're the one who's gotten fat!"

"Are you going to let me in?"

"No."

"Then I'll stand at the door?"

"Stand then."

Two seconds later, Isaac was the one to give in. Kaelen smirked, and he stepped inside.

The moment he entered, his eyes fell on a figure, and for a second he couldn't look away.

The sofa was so soft it made him look even smaller curled up in it. A dark blanket covered him, leaving only his face exposed. His black hair shifted softly as he breathed, his cheeks puffed up from the pressure of the sofa, lips slightly pursed, sleeping quietly.

Kaelen had seen Xie Fengshi twice before. The first time was on a dim path, standing in the halo of the car lights, meeting the boy's bright eyes. The second time was that morning at Good Fortune, where Xie Fengshi sat across from him wearing an apron, unconsciously tilting his head when he talked.

This time was the third, and the first time he was completely relaxed.

"What are you looking at?" Isaac asked warily.

Kaelen looked away: "Xie Fengshi?"

"Haven't you met him before?"

Kaelen said, "I have, but not like this before."

Isaac didn't catch the implication in Kaelen's words: "Don't bother him. He's had a long day today."

Kaelen looked at his brother with a teasing look: "Since when do you care about others?"

"I've always been." Isaac felt that didn't sound right, so he added, "Only about those I want to care about."

Kaelen said nothing more, but his gaze drifted to the person on the sofa.

The room was quiet, except for the bubbling sound from the pot. The aroma of braised pork grew stronger, making his stomach rumble.

Kaelen suddenly understood why Isaac refused to move out. If it were him, coming home to that smell every day after work, he wouldn't want to leave either.

"Have you eaten?" Isaac asked.

Kaelen replied, "Not yet."

Isaac gave a grunt, then said, "Do you want to eat together later?"

Kaelen noticed his brother's awkwardness and smiled: "Okay."

Isaac was uncomfortable under his gaze: "Don't overthink it. I just don't want to waste food. He made a lot."

"Yeah, I'm not overthinking."

"That look on your face says otherwise."

"I'm not."

"You are."

Kaelen wasn't about to argue with his childish brother: "How long has he been sleeping?"

"Not long, about twenty minutes," Isaac said. "I'll wake him when the pork's ready."

Kaelen stood there a moment longer, but eventually, the aroma lured him into the small kitchen.

It was a small kitchen, just a partitioned space, but it was clean and tidy. The pot on the stove was steaming, the pot bubbled loudly. Kaelen lifted the lid; steam hit him in the face. Inside, shiny red chunks of meat jiggled in the thick sauce. The fatty and lean parts were cooked just right—the skin translucent, the meat tender, shimmering with a glossy coating that made one's mouth water.

Kaelen picked up the chopsticks beside the pot and gently poked one piece. The meat instantly sank into a little hollow, so soft it nearly melted. The caramel color on the meat was even and appealing.

"What are you looking at?" Isaac came up behind his brother and peeked over his shoulder. "Never seen meat before?"

Kaelen put the lid back on: "Just curious. His cooking is as good as what our chef at home makes."

Isaac said proudly, "That's because his cooking is better than what we have at home."

Kaelen chuckled: "If Alan hears that, he'll be upset."

Alan was their family's Chinese chef, who had worked for the Zephyrs for over a decade. Even their picky old man praised him highly.

Isaac: "He's just never tasted Xie Fengshi's cooking. If he did, he'd know."

Kaelen laughed softly and dropped it. The meat in the pot looked as good as any professional chef's cooking—even better than many restaurants. The amber sauce was just the right thickness, the meat chunks uniform in size.

"Did he learn to cook?" Kaelen asked.

Isaac said, "He says he figured it out on his own."

Kaelen didn't believe it. Isaac shrugged: "I'll take his word for it. I'm not picky."

Kaelen chuckled and stepped out of the kitchen, his gaze again settling on the person on the sofa.

Xie Fengshi was still sleeping, in exactly the same position as before, wrapped tightly in the blanket, his face peaceful and visible, cheeks faintly flushed.

Kaelen walked quietly and sat down nearby. Isaac followed, plopping onto the carpet, leaning against the sofa, long legs sprawled out: "He must be really tired today."

Kaelen lowered his voice: "What does he usually do?"

"In the morning, sometimes he goes to school. At noon, he helps out in the kitchen. Takes a nap in the afternoon, then works until late at night, and comes back to cook dinner for me."

"Every day?"

"Pretty much."

Kaelen looked at him with a complicated expression: "And you just freeload every day?"

He almost said, 'How can you be so shameless?'

Isaac: "I bring the ingredients!"

Kaelen: …

"And I wash the dishes. He cooks, I wash. It's fair."

Kaelen didn't know whether to praise his brother for being sensible or to feel sorry for Xie Fengshi, who was already exhausted from work but still had to come back and cook for this kid.

Just as he was thinking, Kaelen's gaze fell on Xie Fengshi again. It looked like he was dreaming. He frowned briefly, then relaxed, burying his face deeper into the blanket, leaving only half his face and a tuft of messy black hair visible.

"Don't look at him like that," Isaac said.

Kaelen looked away: "Like what?"

Isaac couldn't find the words: "Just... don't get any ideas about him."

Kaelen said, exasperated, "I'm not getting any ideas."

"You're always like this," Isaac insisted. "Whenever you're interested in someone, you look at them like that."

Kaelen: …

Getting called out by his younger brother didn't feel great.