DCTMOAS Chapter 51

Chu Cheng had returned to Tingzhou ahead of schedule, originally planning to give himself ten days to find a new place and move. He hadn’t expected it all to be settled so quickly.

Ever since moving into Fantian Scenic Residence, his daily routine had boiled down to nothing more than eating, drinking, and collapsing into bed — and he couldn’t be living more carefree if he tried.

In the blink of an eye, a week passed and it was already the fifteenth day of the lunar new year.

According to Tingzhou tradition, every Lantern Festival each district would hold its own celebration: a bonfire performance by the riverside, a lantern fair at Yuhu, lion dancing in Nanwan…

A few days ago, Lu Yan had already been pestering them to go watch the light show at the night market street tonight. Teacher Yu’s condition was that he had to finish all his winter break homework first.

So, in order to pass the inspection, Lu Yan had no choice but to write furiously. With the boy’s boundless energy restrained like that, both floors of the house were noticeably quieter.

Chu Cheng walked into the study on the first floor. Even though he’d rented this room along with the bedroom, he hadn’t really stepped foot in here much since moving in. While everyone else was busy studying and working, it was the perfect time for him to tidy things up.

A few days ago, he’d ordered some books online — Chinese language materials he’d need for the new semester — and he planned to sort and organize them.

Opening the glass door of the bookcase, what greeted his eyes was row upon row of neatly arranged trophies, medals, and certificates.

Lu Yan really lives up to his reputation as a top model student, Chu Cheng thought. He glanced over casually — only to realize that all the names on those certificates said Yu Siting.

Olympiad competitions, physics contests, math competitions, Hua Cup… Just from these results alone, it wasn’t hard to imagine what a prodigy he must’ve been in his teens.

No wonder this guy can’t empathize with blockheads. He was literally a science competition god back in the day.

There were so many awards that Chu Cheng was afraid of getting them dusty or breaking these sentimental things by accident, so he just texted him instead, asking him to come down and handle it himself.

A few minutes later, Yu Siting walked in with a big black plastic bag.

“They’re just things that collect dust — I brought them over when I moved, but there’s no place to stash them,” he said, brushing his hand over the shelf. The medals clattered noisily into the bag.

“I was worried I’d damage them — hey… be careful!” Chu Cheng saw how rough he was being and figured he might as well do it himself.

Yu Siting squatted down to pick up some certificate folders that had fallen to the floor.

“Looking at all this, your competition scores must’ve been amazing back then,” Chu Cheng said as he bent down to help, curiosity getting the better of him. “So… why’d you quit halfway through and switch to a teacher’s college?”

At that, Yu Siting’s movements paused slightly.

Clearly, this was a sensitive topic — there must have been a special reason, one that even Teacher Zhong didn’t know about.

Chu Cheng noticed this subtle detail and was about to discreetly change the subject when, in the next second, he heard that low voice.

Yu Siting said, “Because I came out.”

“…What?” Chu Cheng was genuinely shocked, instinctively thinking he’d misheard.

Yu Siting explained naturally, “Back then, I confessed to my family that I didn’t like girls. The old man at home was furious — he thought I’d gone crazy from all the math competitions, and that same month, he forced me to quit them all.”

“You’re serious? You’re not messing with me?” The sheer weight of what he was hearing was hard to process — Chu Cheng looked up at him, lost for words.

He must’ve still been a minor at the time, right?

“The old man thought I only said that because I didn’t have any girls around me, that I didn’t know how to interact with women,” Yu Siting went on. “So when it came time to apply for college entrance exams, he only gave me two choices: either go to a foreign language university or a teacher’s college — both with a big gender imbalance — and if I managed to have a ‘normal’ relationship, then I’d be allowed back home.”

Seeing that Chu Cheng still seemed skeptical, Yu Siting met his eyes with a dead serious expression, making it clear that none of this was a joke. “Back then, I had no say in anything. If I wanted to keep the surname Yu, I had to do what he said. So in the end, I chose to major in math education.”

Chu Cheng opened his mouth but hesitated, then asked softly, “And… did you obediently date someone?”

“No.” Yu Siting shut that down immediately. “My father decided I was hopeless and gave up first.”

The study fell silent for a moment. Neither of them said a word.

Yu Siting sized up the person kneeling in front of him and smiled lightly. “Why so quiet all of a sudden? Do you really mind that I’m gay?”

Chu Cheng admitted to himself that, yes, he was a little shaken, but not entirely because of the other man’s sexuality. He thought carefully before speaking. “Do you like competitions?”

Yu Siting hadn’t expected that question and didn’t answer immediately. So Chu Cheng clarified, “Or rather, do you like physics and math?”

“I’m indeed good at those, but I wouldn’t say I like them,” Yu Siting replied.

His answer reminded Chu Cheng of what Teacher Zhong had once said: what Yu Siting liked was problems — difficult problems.

“That’s good, then.” After a brief silence, Chu Cheng let out a faint sigh, a note of understanding relief in his voice. “Otherwise, your life would’ve changed too drastically.”

“Nothing’s really changed.” Yu Siting sounded almost too casual, making no effort to hide it. “I still have zero interest in women.”

Chu Cheng: “……”

That’s not what I meant at all.

“If you find anything else, just deal with it however you want. The rest of the stuff in this house shouldn’t have any more stories left to hear.” Yu Siting stood up, lifted the bag — now almost full — into his hand, gave an inscrutable smile, then turned and walked out to deal with it.

What the heck. You’re the one who brought it up, it’s not like I was dying to pry.

Chu Cheng shifted his legs, numb from squatting, and made a face at the departing figure’s back.

When dinnertime came, Yu Laoshi cooked up a pot of tangyuan he’d bought from the supermarket and had the chef at a nearby restaurant prepare a few side dishes to be delivered.

Steam rose from the dishes, mingling the savory aroma of the food with the sweet fragrance of black sesame. Chu Cheng and Yu Siting were already seated at the dining table, but only Lu Yan was still dawdling about.

The kid had been writing from upstairs all the way down, clutching his exercise books — one moment perched on the stairs, the next sprawled across the bay window — perfectly embodying what it meant to be thoroughly miserable.

So even the mighty city’s top scorer had moments when he was utterly defeated by homework.

Chu Cheng couldn’t help but laugh. “I feel like you’ve been writing all day — how can you still have so much left?”

“It’s because…” The teenager shot a fierce glare at his uncle but ended up swallowing his complaints and muttered under his breath, “He gives me ten worksheets today, then tomorrow throws two whole books at me. Otherwise, I’d be done already.”

“Don’t ask too much — or he’ll start blaming you next.” Yu Siting handed over chopsticks and bowls, adding lightly, “When have you ever seen Young Master Lu shortchange himself? If he’s hungry, he’ll come over and eat.”

Chu Cheng chuckled, thinking that made sense too, so he lowered his head and focused on his meal, not wanting to interfere further.

After dinner, the sky grew darker and darker. The night was pitch-black now, which meant the lantern festival was about to begin.

Finally, Lu Yan seemed to have finished some monumental task — he sprang to his feet.

He carried the entire stack of exercise books over to Yu Siting, asking, “Are you going to check it, or is he?”

Yu Siting, who was leisurely watching TV and eating fruit, tilted his head slightly to see past the figure blocking his view, and ordered the person on the other side of the sofa, “Teacher Chu, get to work.”

Chu Cheng, having “taken shelter under someone else’s roof,” felt his lips tighten — he’d just eaten their food and hadn’t even offered to wash the dishes. So now he could only obediently follow the eldest brother’s orders.

Seeing his homework passed straight into Teacher Chu’s hands, Lu Yan pressed his palms together devoutly and waggled them in front of his chest.

“Please, go easy on me.”

Accompanied by the low hum of the documentary on TV, Chu Cheng began checking the homework right there under the watchful eyes of the real head of the household. He’d only flipped through a few pages before his handsome brows knit together.

[“I already know how to do this type of problem”]

[“Too easy — can’t be bothered”]

[“Done so many of these, they’re worn out”]

Reading these little notes scrawled under the blank problems, Chu Cheng felt a mix of helplessness and exasperation. This kid had gambled correctly — banking on the fact that Teacher Yu wouldn’t check his work personally.

Only when all the workbooks had been flipped through did Yu Siting finally tear his gaze away from the TV.

Out of principle and basic professional ethics as a teacher, Chu Cheng couldn’t lie. “Can’t exactly say it’s all done.”

Yu Siting pulled a napkin and wiped his hands, then asked calmly, “How long should I beat him for?”

Lu Yan, petrified by the coffee table: “……”

Chu Cheng rushed to smooth things over. “Uh… it’s not that serious.”

“Oh?” Not only did the kid slack off — now the teacher was covering for him? Yu Siting couldn’t quite comprehend that.

But Chu Cheng caught sight of the boy’s desperate “I-wanna-go-out” look and chose to indulge the little rascal. He personally stepped up to negotiate: “Let him finish after the lantern festival, okay? Or do you really plan to make him ‘one boy, one pen, one miracle overnight’?”

Yu Siting glanced at his nephew out of the corner of his eye, his elegant fingers tapping rhythmically along the rim of the glass fruit bowl.

“Go get dressed.”

“Nice!”

The living room echoed with the boy’s jubilant cheer and the sound of him dashing upstairs.

Once Lu Yan was out of earshot, Yu Siting turned to Chu Cheng and switched to his “lecturing mode.” “Indulgence and spoiling aren’t good methods of education — please keep that in mind, Teacher Chu.”

Chu Cheng looked at him with a smile. “Then why did you agree?”

Yu Siting also got up to fetch his coat, back turned as his voice dropped low. “Because I won’t undermine you in front of the child. Next time, be mindful.”

The drive from the riverside to the night market was one Yu Laoshi could do in his sleep now — he knew every turn. He didn’t even need GPS; the only reason he had to loop around a few times was the sheer number of pedestrians crowding the roads.

Unlike their previous trips here, the Lantern Festival traffic restrictions meant they had to park even farther away tonight.

But Chu Cheng thought that was perfect. Back home, there was an old saying that walking a hundred steps on the Lantern Festival night would keep a hundred ailments away. The group weaved through the night market streets, lit like paintings under the street lamps, with the whole place buzzing with life.

Compared to Christmas, this kind of festival radiated a distinctly Chinese romance. Looking up, they could see colorful lanterns strung overhead — their paper adorned with gold and silver accents, each delicate painting exquisitely detailed.

In a place this lively, there was no way to stroll at leisure. They could only drift along, carried by the tide of people.

Halfway through, the crowd suddenly surged in a wave of commotion. Chu Cheng felt himself jostled a couple of times when he heard Lu Yan calling out to him.

“Teacher Chu, look over here.”

Chu Cheng followed the voice and saw, right in the middle of the street, a troupe of beauties in traditional hanfu dancing gracefully. Their glances were enchanting, sleeves swirling and steps weaving dazzling patterns that made it hard to take your eyes off them.

The two of them lingered for a while, enjoying the traditional dance and musical performance. Then Lu Yan, brimming with excitement, tugged Chu Cheng toward another direction.

“Slow down — I haven’t seen your uncle since just now,” Chu Cheng said, tiptoeing to get a better view. Even with his height advantage, it was useless in this shoulder-to-shoulder crowd — he couldn’t see far at all.

Lu Yan, however, urged him on. “Come on! Who brings a math teacher along to guess lantern riddles anyway?”

“Hey! Wait up—”

“See the prize booth over there? I want the biggest lantern — that’s not too much to ask, right?”

And so, half dragged by Lu Yan, Chu Cheng found himself swept into the riddle street. He’d tried to put up a token struggle, but the festive atmosphere was simply too infectious — soon he was laughing and playing along wholeheartedly.

Having grown up steeped in books and poetry, Chu Cheng had a deep love for words — whether Buddhist scriptures or old operas, he could recite them offhand. Naturally, when it came to guessing riddles, he was an absolute ringer.

Before long, they had so many little prizes that they could hardly hold them all. The two of them laughed their way through the bustling street until they reached a fork in the road.

On either side of the small lane, lanterns swayed and shimmered, their glow mingling with the lights from countless stalls — most of which were selling couple-themed trinkets. There were hairpins and masks, engraved bracelets, matching pendants you could piece together.

Naturally, the people wandering this area were mostly couples. And so, Chu Cheng and Lu Yan, with their fresh young faces, stumbled right into the middle of it.

Lu Yan glanced around and frowned slightly. “Why does the vibe feel… weird here?”

Chu Cheng chuckled and explained, “Because in Daoism, the Shangyuan^[1] Festival is the first full moon night of the year. Besides peace and harmony, it also has a more romantic connotation — it’s considered one of the three traditional Lovers’ Days in ancient times. The fifteenth of the first lunar month is Yuanxiao, the third day of the third month is Shangsi, and the seventh day of the seventh month is Qixi.”

“Oh~ Now that you say that, I get it.” Lu Yan grinned and disappeared into the dense crowd.

Chu Cheng lowered his head, looking over the knick-knacks on the stalls.

Maybe it was the festive atmosphere, but he felt that these otherwise ordinary trinkets all looked rather exquisite tonight. He picked up a small glass ornament shaped like a persimmon and turned it over in his hand.

“Look at this…” Chu Cheng turned around, ready to share it — only to find that his dear rascal had already vanished.

He squeezed out of the crowd, retracing their path to look for him. But after searching high and low, he came up empty-handed — until finally, he spotted Yu Siting’s tall figure strolling leisurely through the sea of lanterns.

“Who are you looking for?”

“I think I lost the kid,” Chu Cheng confessed.

Yu Siting let out a soft chuckle. “Even if you lose him, he won’t stay lost.”

“But there are so many people…” Chu Cheng still sounded worried.

Yu Siting seemed perfectly used to all sorts of scenarios. Calm and unhurried, he said, “Don’t worry about it. There’s a good chance he’s already gotten bored and caught a cab home by himself.”

“Huh?” Chu Cheng actually ran a mental calculation on how likely that scenario was — but before he could settle on an answer, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

He got a WeChat message, glanced down at it, and said, “It’s from Lu Yan.”

Yu Siting didn’t even bother to ask what the boy had said. “He’s not really that into all this bustle anyway. He just stirred things up so we’d all come out.”

“That’s exactly it.” Chu Cheng turned the phone screen to show him, half amused, half exasperated. “He wants me to keep you out a bit longer so he has time to finish his homework.”

Yu Siting looked utterly unsurprised. “Ignore him. If you’re tired of wandering, let’s head back.”

But Chu Cheng wasn’t willing to let go of the beautiful atmosphere so easily. He shook his head. “I can keep going for a bit. I heard there’s a fireworks show at nine — want to find a good spot to watch?”

“I remember there’s a teahouse up high by the handmade candy shop. We should be able to sit down there.” Yu Siting gestured toward it, relying on memory.

Chu Cheng readily agreed and followed him.

The traditional teahouse was full of old-world charm. They climbed the exterior staircase, painted a deep red, and the higher they went, the farther they could see — the view growing more breathtaking with each step.

From above, they could see the street laid out under the night sky, a sea of lanterns glowing as one, throngs of people moving like a living river.

Tonight, the festival crowds were massive — the teahouse interior was packed to the brim. Chu Cheng and Yu Siting could only order a fruit platter and a few snacks, then settle at a corner of the terrace to chat.

The minute hand on Chu Cheng’s watch slid toward nine o’clock. In the swell of anticipation, the fireworks show for the Lantern Festival began right on time.

In the sea of voices, a few warm-up fireworks hissed into the sky, bursting like scattered shooting stars.

Many guests up on the teahouse terrace set up their phones, ready to snap photos or record videos.

When he saw the camera gear around him, Chu Cheng was reminded of the last time he’d watched fireworks — that New Year’s Eve livestream.

Smiling faintly, he leaned closer to the man beside him, teasing him to predict which show would be more spectacular — this one, or that one from before.

Yu Siting sat there calmly, straight-backed, lifting his cup for a sip of tea. “Tonight’s.”

He answered so quickly that Chu Cheng laughed. “Why’s that? You have so much faith in it — no wonder you even climbed up here to grab the best view.”

“The fireworks themselves won’t be all that different.” Yu Siting’s gaze stayed fixed on the brilliant cascade of sparks in the distance. He added quietly, “The difference is, last time we didn’t get to see them together.”

It sounded like the words had simply slipped out.

Chu Cheng froze for a moment, caught off guard. He turned his head, eyes drawn to that striking profile — so often lit up beneath the eaves by the glow of the lanterns.

---

Author’s Note:
Because he’s a straight guy, he’s always been pretty blunt when it comes to dealing with another man. But ever since he learned the other’s orientation, he’s slowly realized there’s a mountain of unspoken tension about to explode…

Chu Cheng: Something’s definitely off with this guy. I’ll keep an eye on him.