Chapter 43 The Next Step

Chapter 43: The Next Step

On New Year's Eve, Pei Zhi woke up early.

Not because something woke him, but because he woke up on his own.

He lay in the guest room bed, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling for a long moment before remembering where he was.

The blanket had a faint lavender scent—not the discounted laundry detergent from his apartment, but some expensive brand he couldn't name.

The same one Lin Xishan used.

That thought secretly made him happy.

After he got dressed and headed downstairs, Lin Jinyao was already busy in the kitchen. Though she was a wealthy matriarch, she always insisted on cooking personally on New Year's Eve.

She had an apron on and turned when she heard footsteps, smiling. "Xiao Pei, you're up so early? Xishan's still sleeping—he never gets up before ten when he's home."

Pei Zhi stood at the kitchen doorway, hesitating before speaking. "Auntie, do you need any help?"

"No need, no need—just have a seat," Lin Jinyao waved him off, turning back to stir the pot. A couple seconds later, she added, "Oh, by the way, do you know how to make dumplings?"

"A little," Pei Zhi said cautiously.

Honestly, he was probably way better than "a little."

His mother had taught him how to wrap dumplings. Every New Year's Eve while she was still alive, they would make them together.

That was one of the few warm memories he had of that home.

"Great, then you can help me out later. Xishan's father wraps dumplings as big as buns, and Jichuan's fall apart in the pot—half of them end up as soup. Neither of them is any good for it." Lin Jinyao sighed. "And his dad just has to make them too. If his company hadn't called him into the office just now, he'd still be here, saying he's 'doing his part.'"

The corner of Pei Zhi's mouth curved up. This kind of grumbling made him feel at home.

It felt like family fussing over him, not like he was just some guest.

He washed his hands, put on the extra apron Lin Jinyao handed him, and stood at the counter to knead the dough.

His movements were steady—pressing with the heel of his hand, folding, pressing again, in a smooth rhythm.

Lin Jinyao glanced over a couple times, said "You've done this before," and went back to her work.

A little while later, Lin Yuanzhou came out of his study and paused at the kitchen doorway.

He watched Pei Zhi rolling out dumpling wrappers, his eyes lingering on those skilled hands for a moment. "You wrap better than I do."

That was probably supposed to be a compliment.

Pei Zhi didn't know what to say. Even though this was Lin Xishan's dad, he was scared of older men—a leftover shadow from his past.

Luckily, the man didn't seem to expect an answer. He walked over to help Lin Jinyao with whatever needed doing.

—Even though he kept getting scolded for being clumsy, the smile on Lin Yuanzhou's face showed he was having a good time.

So this was what a close-knit family looked like.

Pei Zhi had never experienced anything like this before.

It made him kind of happy.

When Lin Jichuan came downstairs in his pajamas, he wandered into the kitchen to get some water. When he saw Pei Zhi in an apron wrapping dumplings, he was instantly half-awake.

"You know how to wrap dumplings?" Lin Jichuan's tone sounded like he was asking an alien.

"Yeah."

Lin Jichuan stood nearby with his cup of water, watching for a bit. He noticed Pei Zhi's dumplings had even pleats and tight seals—they looked better than his mom's.

He took a sip of water, mumbled something nobody could make out, and got scolded by Lin Jinyao for wandering around in his pajamas. He slunk back upstairs, embarrassed.

Lin Xishan did better—he came down fully dressed, though his hair was still sticking up all over the place.

He sat down next to Pei Zhi like it was the most natural thing in the world and started wrapping dumplings with him.

Even though almost every one needed some kind of rescue from Pei Zhi, Pei Zhi was happy.

That afternoon, Lin Jichuan surprisingly didn't shut himself in his room to practice.

He sat on the living room couch with his new bass, pretending to tune it while his eyes kept drifting over to Pei Zhi.

Pei Zhi sat on the armchair across from him, looking down at his phone.

Lin Jichuan cleared his throat.

Pei Zhi looked up.

"So," Lin Jichuan's fingers slid along the neck of the bass, "about your band's new album arrangements—I listened to a few of the demos. On the second track's interlude, isn't the bass line a little thin?"

Pei Zhi put down his phone and looked at Lin Jichuan.

Lin Jichuan felt a little awkward under his gaze and was about to take it back when Pei Zhi spoke first: "Zhou Yan said the same thing. He wanted to add a bass solo in the interlude but hasn't found the right melody yet."

Lin Jichuan's eyes lit up, but he quickly hid it. He plucked a couple of strings, looking down at the bass. "I could give it a shot. Of course, just a suggestion—you don't have to use it."

"Okay."

Lin Jichuan froze. "For real?"

"You're one of the investors," Pei Zhi said. "And your brother says your music theory is solid."

Lin Jichuan's face went through a bunch of expressions before settling into a forced calm.

Of course, Lin Xishan could tell at a glance that his brother was over the moon inside—having grown up together, he knew every one of Lin Jichuan's tells.

Lin Jichuan started plucking the strings, and Pei Zhi leaned against the armrest of the couch, occasionally pointing out when a note was sharp or flat.

Lin Jinyao poked her head out of the kitchen to look at the two in the living room, then pulled back and whispered to Lin Yuanzhou, "Your son and Xiao Pei are getting along pretty well."

Lin Yuanzhou was focused on chopping the green peppers he'd been told to do. "Mm."

"Can't you react a little more?" Lin Jinyao rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"I'm very pleased."

Lin Jinyao shot him another look, but the corner of her mouth was curved up.

In the evening, it started to snow. Not heavily—just fine flakes drifting down, settling in a thin layer on the windowsill.

Lin Jinyao set out a table full of dishes in the living room.

Eight-treasure stir-fry, braised fish, white-cut chicken, sweet and sour pork ribs, oil-braised prawns, stir-fried seasonal vegetables, dumplings, and a steaming pot of chicken soup in the center.

Eight dishes, for good luck and prosperity.

Lin Jinyao nodded with satisfaction: "Alright, everything's ready."

Lin Yuanzhou held Lin Jinyao's hand: "You've worked hard."

"You too."

Lin Jichuan pursed his lips—his parents were still as affectionate as ever, still showing off their love every day.

Pei Zhi was seated next to Lin Xishan. His bowl was already piled into a small mountain with three servings of food from Lin Jinyao.

He ate slowly, head bowed.

Lin Xishan tossed a peeled shrimp into Pei Zhi's bowl.

When Lin Jichuan saw this, his chopsticks nearly slipped into the soup bowl.

Holy crap, was his brother possessed? Didn't he hate peeling shrimp?

As a single guy, he just didn't get it.

After the New Year's Eve feast, Lin Jinyao pulled out some red envelopes from under the coffee table. She first handed one to Lin Jichuan, then one to Lin Xishan, and finally walked over to Pei Zhi, handing him one.

Pei Zhi instinctively leaned back, raising both hands to block in front of him: "Auntie, you don't have to."

"Why not? It's New Year—isn't it just natural for elders to give red envelopes to the younger ones?"

"What do you mean you're not?" Lin Jinyao pressed the envelope into his hand, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Aren't you family? If you're sitting at this table today, you're one of us. Take it."

Pei Zhi looked at the red envelope, his fingers curling a little.

Lin Xishan said softly beside him, "Just take it—my mom has never failed to force a red envelope on someone." Only then did Pei Zhi slowly reach out and accept it.

The envelope wasn't thick, but it felt heavy in his hands.

"Thank you, Auntie." His voice was a bit hoarse.

Lin Jinyao patted his hand without a word, then turned and headed back to the kitchen to fetch the fruit platter.

After New Year's Eve passed, the days flew by like a thawing stream.

Over the next few days, Pei Zhi got a feel for the household's daily rhythm.

Lin Yuanzhou left for the company on time every day. Lin Jinyao practiced calligraphy in the study in the mornings. Lin Jichuan was either practicing his instrument or holed up in his room doing God knows what.

Lin Xishan was occasionally called into the study by Lin Yuanzhou for a talk, and he always came out looking unfazed.

They left the Lin family home on the fifth day of the new year. Lin Xishan's vacation was over—the project team was getting back to work—and Pei Zhi also had to get back to recording his album.

With their bags packed, they stood at the front door putting on their shoes.

Lin Jinyao came out of the kitchen carrying an insulated bag and handed it to Pei Zhi: "There are wontons I wrapped this morning, already frozen. Put them in the fridge when you get back, and just boil them when you want some. There's also a bottle of hair oil—don't forget to use it."

Pei Zhi took the bag, opened his mouth to say thanks, but Lin Xishan spoke first: "Mom, you're so biased—I didn't get any wontons to take with me."

"You have the cafeteria at school; Xiao Pei doesn't have that." Lin Jinyao said, as if it were obvious, then turned to Pei Zhi, her tone softening. "Xiao Pei, come by whenever you want—just give me a heads-up, and I'll cook you something good."

Pei Zhi nodded seriously.

Lin Xishan slung an arm around Pei Zhi's shoulder and smiled at his mother: "Don't worry—you'll have plenty of chances to see him."

Lin Yuanzhou walked out of the living room, stood in front of Lin Xishan, and patted his shoulder. The father and son exchanged a look—nothing was said, but everything was understood. Then Lin Yuanzhou turned to Pei Zhi and extended his hand.

Pei Zhi shook it.

Lin Yuanzhou's palm was dry and firm. He gripped once, then let go, and said four words: "Hope the album goes well."

"Thank you." Pei Zhi no longer felt the nervousness from their first meeting.

The car Lin Xishan ordered arrived. After they got in, the car slowly pulled out of the villa complex.

Pei Zhi glanced back and saw through the window that Lin Jinyao was still standing at the door, waving at them.

He placed the insulated bag on his lap, slowly rubbing his thumb over it, looking a little incredulous: "Lin Xishan."

Lin Xishan hummed lazily in response.

Pei Zhi turned to look at him: "I used to always spend New Year alone. Last year I ate a cup of instant noodles in my rented apartment, then went to the rehearsal room and practiced guitar all night long—because there was nowhere else to go."

Lin Xishan reached out and took Pei Zhi's hand in his own palm, saying, "Not this year. And not ever again."

Pei Zhi didn't pull his hand back. He leaned back in his seat, closed his eyes, and breathed steadily.

They'd been driving for about twenty minutes when Pei Zhi suddenly opened his eyes and looked down at his hand.

Lin Xishan was still holding it—fingers interlaced, palm against palm.

This kind of contact wasn't new, but today Pei Zhi suddenly realized something.

He wasn't nervous.

No racing heart, no churning stomach, no urge to pull his hand away.

He just let Lin Xishan hold his hand, and it felt totally normal. So normal that he'd almost not noticed it.

"Lin Xishan." His voice was a bit tight. "You're holding my hand, and earlier your dad shook my hand too."

"So? We hold hands every day." Lin Xishan didn't get what the big deal was.

"I didn't feel like throwing up. Not at all." Pei Zhi said.

Lin Xishan turned to look at him, his gaze shifting from confusion to seriousness, then to barely contained joy.

He didn't say anything dramatic—he just held Pei Zhi's hand a little tighter.

"No rush," Lin Xishan said. "We can't get too optimistic. Take it slow."

Pei Zhi nodded, but the curve at the corner of his mouth refused to go down.

After returning to school, the campus hadn't reopened yet, and Lin Xishan still commuted daily.

His routine was fixed: wake up at 6:40, eat the breakfast Pei Zhi made. Pei Zhi's cooking had improved significantly over the short break—the fried eggs had gone from charcoal to golden, and though they were occasionally still too salty, at least it was edible food.

After breakfast, he took the bus to school, spent the whole day in the project team's office, and came back around seven or eight in the evening, with Pei Zhi waiting for him at home.

This routine went on for nearly two weeks.

The first follow-up appointment after the New Year was on a Wednesday afternoon.

This time, Pei Zhi didn't hesitate and had Lin Xishan come into the consultation room with him.

Xie Zhien quirked an eyebrow when she saw the two of them walk in together, but said nothing.

As usual, she first asked Pei Zhi about the frequency of his somatization symptoms over the past few weeks, his sleep quality, and his medication adherence.

Pei Zhi answered each one.

When asked about sleep quality, Pei Zhi said, "I slept better over the New Year."

"Was there anything special that happened over the holiday?"

"I went to his place." Pei Zhi pointed at Lin Xishan.

Lin Xishan smiled. "That's right, went to my place and met my parents."

Xie Zhien jotted down a few notes, then looked up and said approvingly, "Very good."

After the routine assessment, Xie Zhien closed her notebook, took off her glasses, rubbed the bridge of her nose, and then looked at Pei Zhi. "I'm going to ask you a pretty personal question next. You can choose not to answer."

Pei Zhi nodded.

"How often have you and Mr. Lin been intimate recently?"

Pei Zhi's expression stiffened for a moment. His ears turned bright red, and his fingers curled inward slightly on his knees.

Lin Xishan coughed beside him, his gaze drifting toward the view outside the window.

Even he was embarrassed by this.

"Pretty often," Pei Zhi said quietly.

Xie Zhien asked seriously, "Have you had any bad reactions? Nausea, vomiting, body stiffness, or the urge to push the other person away?"

Pei Zhi took a deep breath and shook his head. "No," he said.

Xie Zhien wrote a few lines before looking up again. "Your somatic symptoms have dropped to a negligible level. You're still on the medication, but if this trend continues, I'll consider reducing the dosage further at the next check-up."

She paused, her gaze shifting between Pei Zhi and Lin Xishan.

"So," Xie Zhien said, "you can try the next step."

Pei Zhi's ears were completely red now.

He sat there with his back straight, as if he'd just been given some major mission.

Coming out of the consultation room, Pei Zhi walked on ahead in silence. Lin Xishan followed half a step behind, watching his red ears and the light golden strands of hair blowing in the wind.

"What's the rush?" Lin Xishan caught up and walked alongside him.

"Nothing." Pei Zhi stared straight ahead, his voice returning to its usual cool tone.

But his hand reached out by itself, hooking around Lin Xishan's pinky finger.