UI Chapter 63

This street wasn’t very wide, but it was deep and long. The shops on both sides mostly sold specialty snacks, while the night market stalls in front of them primarily offered daily necessities and small entertainment items.

Stepping on the warm granite pavement, Shen Ran stopped in front of a restaurant and said to Zhao Jiyu,
“Let’s just have stir-fried dishes.”

Glancing at the decently decorated restaurant, as well as the several tables of customers inside drinking and eating, Zhao Jiyu asked Shen Ran,
“If I weren’t here, what would you eat?”

“I’d be eating with my mom at the hospital cafeteria.”

“What about when you’re alone?”

Eating alone was much simpler. Shen Ran casually pointed to the noodle shop next door.

“Then let’s have noodles,”
Zhao Jiyu hooked an arm around his shoulder and, without giving him a choice, started leading him toward the noodle shop.

Shen Ran stood still and refused to move.
“You’re still not fully recovered. You shouldn’t eat something this lacking in nutrition.”

Zhao Jiyu looked at him.
“Is it because I’m still recovering, or because you’re worried I won’t be used to the food in a small shop like this?”

Shen Ran’s expression showed a hint of discomfort at having his thoughts partly exposed. Zhao Jiyu didn’t let him dwell on it.
“When I was a kid, I followed my uncle around quite a bit. I’ve had days where all three meals were just instant noodles, gone three days without a shower, and even stepped barefoot into cow dung in a field.”

Shen Ran couldn’t picture someone as clean as Zhao Jiyu stepping into cow dung, but Zhao Jiyu didn’t seem to care. He walked into the noodle shop, grabbed a menu, and ordered a bowl of the house specialty. Then he asked Shen Ran what he wanted.

Shen Ran ordered the same.

When the noodles arrived, the two ate in silence. Shen Ran worried that Zhao Jiyu wouldn’t like the taste, but to his surprise, he drank the entire bowl of broth and even let out a satisfied burp, smiling at himself.

The restaurant’s owner happened to be cleaning a nearby table. Seeing that they had finished eating, she turned to them and said,
“Boys, you don’t look familiar. How was the noodles?”

“Not bad,” Zhao Jiyu replied as he scanned the QR code on the wall to pay.
“The broth is rich, and the noodles have a good bite to them.”

The owner beamed with pride, clearly pleased that he appreciated the food.

Shen Ran said nothing. Only after they left the shop did he ask,
“Did you really think it was good?”

“It was good,”
Zhao Jiyu casually balled up the napkins they had used to wipe their mouths and tossed them into a nearby trash bin. Then, still draping an arm around Shen Ran’s shoulder, he continued walking.
“It’s not as good as Old Wu’s cooking, but the flavor was decent.”

“You didn’t think it tasted bad?” Zhao Jiyu countered.

Before meeting Zhao Jiyu, small noodle shops like this had been a regular part of Shen Ran’s life. Just as Zhao Jiyu said, they couldn’t compare to Old Wu’s cooking, but the taste was passable.

Thinking about how Zhao Jiyu was making an effort to accommodate him, Shen Ran suddenly felt a hard-to-describe melancholy.

He didn’t know how long this kind of consideration would last. Right now, Zhao Jiyu’s feelings for him were intense, and in his eyes, everything seemed simple. But what about later?

If Zhao Jiyu ever stopped loving him, wouldn’t their differences become the reason they broke up?

When he was with Li Ting, he had never thought about these things. But now, even before getting together with Zhao Jiyu, he was already worrying about them. He didn’t understand what was wrong with him—this kind of overthinking didn’t fit his personality at all.

After walking a little further, Zhao Jiyu stopped in front of a balloon shooting stall and asked,
“Wanna play? I’m really good at this.”

These balloon shooting stalls were common in night markets. When Shen Ran was younger and his father was still around, they used to go to town or the county on weekends, so he was familiar with these kinds of games. He asked in return, “How good? Why don’t you pick a prize, and I’ll win it for you?”

Zhao Jiyu raised an eyebrow and suddenly laughed.

Shen Ran thought he was doubting his aim, so he was about to scan the QR code to start the game when he heard Zhao Jiyu whisper close to his ear,

“Then when will you give me one again?”

The last three words were spoken even softer, but Shen Ran heard them clearly. Because of that single sentence—one that only the two of them would understand—Shen Ran found himself distracted. Every time he aimed at a balloon, he could feel Zhao Jiyu’s gaze on him, as if it had a tangible weight, roaming over his body. His mind started wandering uncontrollably.

By the end of the game, he had only hit three balloons.

The stall owner gave him a small consolation prize—a single piece of fruit-flavored candy.

Zhao Jiyu stood to the side, holding back his laughter. Shen Ran pretended not to notice, unwrapped the fruit candy, popped it into his mouth, and turned calmly to watch Zhao Jiyu pick up the gun.

But soon, he was stunned.

Zhao Jiyu’s grip on the gun was incredibly professional, nothing like someone just playing for fun. From testing the feel of the gun to loading it and aiming, his movements were fluid and precise. After hitting four balloons in a row without pausing, a few young passersby stopped to watch, and some girls even took out their phones to record him.

Shen Ran was well aware of how attractive Zhao Jiyu’s face was, so he didn’t try to stop the girls from filming. But when the camera turned toward him, aiming excitedly in his direction, he finally reminded Zhao Jiyu that it was time to go.

Zhao Jiyu hit all ten shots, leaving the stall owner astonished. Though clearly reluctant, the owner still pointed toward the prize section and asked which one he wanted.

Zhao Jiyu pointed to a pair of plush pigs at the bottom, connected in the middle by a red heart.

The owner told him that he had to hit 25 shots in a row to win that prize.

Without hesitation, Zhao Jiyu told Shen Ran to wait, bought two more rounds, and after hitting all his targets, he grabbed the plush pigs and stuffed them into Shen Ran’s arms.

Shen Ran looked down at the stuffed animals. The two little pigs were pink and white, adorably round, with their bellies connected by a bright red heart embroidered with the somewhat cheesy word “LOVE” in cursive.

He hadn’t expected someone like Zhao Jiyu—a grown man—to be interested in plush toys. His expression became a bit complicated.

Zhao Jiyu, however, casually opened an umbrella, blocking the strangers’ cameras, and draped an arm over Shen Ran’s shoulder as they kept walking.

The rain wasn’t heavy, but to keep the plush pigs from getting wet, Shen Ran instinctively held them close to his chest.

Zhao Jiyu glanced at him and chuckled.
“You like them that much?”

“Huh?” Shen Ran was a beat slow to react. Just as he asked, Zhao Jiyu stopped again, pointing at a street stall selling beef thumb-sized pan-fried buns.

“Let’s buy some of these,”
Zhao Jiyu suggested.

The aroma of the pan-fried buns filled the air. Shen Ran reminded,
“If you eat them, your stomach will hurt again.”

“I’m not afraid, just two,”
Zhao Jiyu insisted. He scanned the code to pay, took the paper bag from the vendor, and used a bamboo skewer to pick up one. After blowing on it, he held it up to Shen Ran’s mouth. “Open up.”

Shen Ran wanted to take it himself, but Zhao Jiyu dodged his hand and insisted on feeding him.

The umbrella shielded them from the world behind, but it couldn’t block the gazes of passersby. Shen Ran turned his face slightly to avoid being seen and quickly took a bite.

Zhao Jiyu smiled and asked how it tasted. Shen Ran nodded, “Delicious.”

After swallowing the bun, he noticed Zhao Jiyu still staring at him. “What?” he asked.

Zhao Jiyu said,
“You finally smiled.”

Shen Ran hadn’t even realized it himself. Zhao Jiyu then handed him the bamboo skewer.
“Your turn.”

He paused for a moment before understanding what Zhao Jiyu meant. His gaze lingered on the skewer for a second, then he turned his face away.
“You can eat it yourself.”

Since they were sharing an umbrella, if one person didn’t move, the other had to stay put as well. Shen Ran avoided looking at Zhao Jiyu, but he could tell the other wasn’t happy. He tightened his grip on the small pig figurines in his arms, still trying to compose himself when he heard Zhao Jiyu say behind him,
“Then I’ll collect what’s owed later.”

Before Shen Ran could argue, another pan-fried bun was pressed against his lips. Zhao Jiyu, still smiling, coaxed,
“Be good, open up.”

Somehow, he ended up eating most of the buns.

They stopped by a milk tea shop at the roadside. To Shen Ran’s surprise, this obscure place even had a sea salt watermelon latte on the menu. Zhao Jiyu was eager to try it, but Shen Ran, well aware of how unreliable such shops could be, advised him to go with the safest choice—jasmine green tea. Zhao Jiyu ignored him, took one sip, and was immediately speechless.

Seeing Zhao Jiyu’s expression—one of wanting to spit it out but forcing himself to swallow—Shen Ran couldn’t hold back his laughter. But then Zhao Jiyu snatched his jasmine green tea and swapped it with the sea salt watermelon latte.

“My stomach can’t handle coffee,” Zhao Jiyu said matter-of-factly.
“I was just tasting it for you.”

“How old are you?” Shen Ran scoffed.
“Still pulling this kind of trick?”

“You’ve never heard this saying?”
Zhao Jiyu put an arm around Shen Ran’s shoulder, his eyes crinkling behind his glasses as he smiled.
“In front of the person they like, a man will always be a boy.”

In the end, the awful sea salt watermelon latte ended up in the trash, and the two of them shared one cup of jasmine green tea. Every time Shen Ran habitually tried to bite the straw, Zhao Jiyu would promptly remind him not to.

Chatting like this along the way, they soon arrived at a brightly lit little shop.

This was a specialty goldfish shop. The owner was skilled at attracting customers, hanging over thirty transparent plastic bags filled with goldfish and clear water on the blue wall by the entrance. Warm light shone down from above, making the water in the bags look crystal clear and the goldfish appear vibrant. From time to time, people would stop in front of the wall to take pictures.

Shen Ran asked Zhao Jiyu if he wanted to go inside and take a look. Zhao Jiyu nodded and pulled him in.

The shop was only about ten square meters. Around the walls were various aquariums housing different breeds of goldfish. In the center, four square fish tanks were arranged together for a goldfish scooping game, where any caught fish could be taken home.

With just a glance, Zhao Jiyu recognized the game—it was similar to the goldfish scooping at summer festivals. After the excited elementary school kids ahead of them left empty-handed, he crouched down, accepted a set of ten scooping nets from the owner, and looked up at Shen Ran before starting.
“Which color do you want?”

Shen Ran had seen this kind of game before and knew it was difficult to succeed. But seeing Zhao Jiyu so eager, he pointed at a black telescope goldfish. “That one.”

Unlike his flawless shooting skills from earlier, Zhao Jiyu failed time and again with the fragile paper nets. The pile of broken scooping nets at his feet kept growing. Shen Ran reminded him that at this rate, he could have bought plenty of fish already.

But Zhao Jiyu refused to give up—he was determined to catch that black telescope goldfish. In the end, the fish got so scared that it hid in a corner and refused to come out. Defeated, Zhao Jiyu stood up, but after barely three seconds of disappointment, he decided to buy it instead.

The owner scooped up the black goldfish for him and prepared a fish tank. Zhao Jiyu then chose a red telescope goldfish to go with it. The owner also persuaded him to buy fish food and some colorful decorations for the tank. By the time Zhao Jiyu happily paid, Shen Ran felt a pang of distress—after everything, it had cost over 600 yuan.

But Zhao Jiyu looked completely satisfied. Seeing him like this, Shen Ran thought that this was how he was meant to be in life. There was no need for him to always match Shen Ran’s preferences in everything.

As they stepped out of the shop, Shen Ran was about to open the umbrella when he realized the rain had stopped at some point. In front of them, a five-tiered steamer at a nearby store was cooking buns, sending up waves of steam that drifted into the night sky under the warm lights. Wisps of vapor intertwined with the crisp air, painting a scene reminiscent of a Jiangnan alley after the rain.

At the alley entrance, a willow tree swayed gently in the night breeze. Shen Ran took a deep breath and felt his mood lighten.

Beside him, Zhao Jiyu walked over carrying the transparent fish tank and handed him a small goldfish care manual. “The owner said that Xiao Ran and Xiao Yu are delicate to raise. Read the manual carefully—their future is in your hands.”