UI Chapter 51

Ignoring the person behind him, Shen Ran broke free from his embrace and continued swimming forward.

By the time they reached the side of the yacht, Old Wu had already heard the commotion and came out. He lowered the rope ladder and pulled them up. Shen Ran climbed aboard first, and by the time Zhao Jiyu stepped onto the deck, Shen Ran was nowhere to be seen.

As Old Wu put away the rope ladder, he noticed Zhao Jiyu pulling off his swim cap, his expression not looking great. He asked,
“You two okay?”

“We’re fine.” Zhao Jiyu slicked his wet bangs back.
“Did he go shower?”

“Probably. I saw him go down.”

“He didn’t touch the ramen. Make something else.”

“Okay. What about you? Still don’t want to eat?”

“No.”

Pushing open the glass sliding door, Zhao Jiyu walked into the cabin with water still dripping from him. The bedroom bathroom door was tightly closed, and through the frosted glass, a hazy figure wrapped in steam could be seen. Thinking back on his behavior earlier, he realized he had indeed gone too far. He took a set of clean clothes from the wardrobe and placed them by the bed, then wrapped himself in a bath towel and returned to the deck.

The small table had been cleared, and in place of the previous dishes, Lao Wu had brought over two fresh coconuts. Zhao Jiyu picked one up, leaned against the chair, and drank while sitting there for about twenty minutes until Shen Ran came up.

The man had taken a shower—his hair was still wet—but he had changed into the clean clothes Zhao Jiyu had left for him.

Sitting down on the chair next to him, Shen Ran took the other coconut Zhao Jiyu handed him, took a sip, and frowned.
“Why isn’t it cold?”

“You shouldn’t drink cold things after being in the water,”
Zhao Jiyu said.
“Be good. This helps cool you down—drink it all.”

Shen Ran glanced at him and automatically ignored the words “be good.” After finishing the coconut, Lao Wu brought over a freshly cooked bowl of peppered lamb vermicelli soup.

As soon as the scent of lamb reached him, Shen Ran’s stomach grumbled embarrassingly. Zhao Jiyu held back his laughter and reminded him,
“Eat quickly, be careful not to burn yourself.”

Shen Ran looked up at Lao Wu. “Only one serving again?”

Thinking he found it too little, Lao Wu said,
“If it’s not enough, I can make more.”

“No need. Just bring me a bowl.”

When Lao Wu brought the bowl, Shen Ran picked out all the lamb, scooped some broth, and placed it in front of Zhao Jiyu. “Eat.”

Zhao Jiyu hadn’t expected that he asked for a bowl just to share. He stared at the finely chopped green onions floating in the broth. The words of complaint about being picky with food were at the tip of his tongue but swallowed back. He took the spoon, scooped a sip of the broth, and was surprised by its rich flavor. The lamb was tender and soft, and the way the person across from him lowered his head while eating vermicelli looked particularly adorable.

Scooping up a piece of lamb, Zhao Jiyu brought it to Shen Ran’s mouth and said,
“I can’t finish so much.”

Shen Ran didn’t refuse, but he also didn’t open his mouth. Instead, he tilted Zhao Jiyu’s hand, letting the lamb drop into the bowl before picking it up with his chopsticks to eat.

One bowl wasn’t enough to fill them both, so Lao Wu made two Chinese-style rice burgers, grilled another batch of honey chicken wings, and served an apple tart. While eating, Shen Ran still felt bad about the food Lao Wu had discarded earlier. Lao Wu reassured him that nothing was wasted—there was a garbage disposal system on the yacht that processed food waste into organic fertilizer.

It was the first time Shen Ran had heard of such a machine. He asked where the fertilizer was used, and Lao Wu explained that he had a friend with a farm where all the processed waste was sent.

Zhao Jiyu asked,
“Want to visit the farm?”

Shen Ran looked at Zhao Jiyu, biting on his cola straw as the corners of his mouth lifted in a smile. He couldn’t hold back his laughter.

At that moment, the air seemed to be filled with the fresh sweetness of fruit candy, and the earlier unpleasantness was completely brushed away. Zhao Jiyu stared at him intently and asked,
“What’s so funny?”

Shen Ran covered the corner of his mouth with his hand, shook his head, and didn’t answer. Zhao Jiyu stood up, moved to sit beside him, and said,
“Come on, tell me. Let me be happy too.”

“You won’t be happy,”
Shen Ran said, biting on the straw before taking another bite of the apple tart.

Seeing the lingering amusement in his eyes, Zhao Jiyu said,
“Now I have to know even more. Are you secretly cursing me in your head?”

Shen Ran swallowed the crisp apple chunks.
“Why would I waste my time thinking about you?”

“Which is exactly why you should tell me. Come on,”
Zhao Jiyu insisted.

Shen Ran took another bite, letting Zhao Jiyu wait in suspense before finally saying, “I was just thinking that if I said I wanted to go, you’d probably arrange a farm visit for me next time.”

Zhao Jiyu had been brimming with curiosity, but this was the answer he got. It wasn’t as intriguing as he’d imagined, but it was exactly what he had been thinking himself. He chuckled, picked up Shen Ran’s fork, and speared a piece of apple tart. “So, do you want to go?”

Shen Ran had intended to tease Zhao Jiyu and regain the upper hand, but when he looked up, the man was gazing at him with such a gentle expression that he had no choice but to turn his face away.

The sea shimmered under streaks of golden sunlight—beautiful, yet glaringly bright. Shen Ran watched it for a moment before shifting his focus to the small table in front of him, but even then, he couldn’t completely escape Zhao Jiyu’s gaze.

Even without words, Zhao Jiyu’s eyes carried enough emotion to weigh heavily on his shoulders.

That afternoon, Shen Ran took a nap on the sofa, and when he woke up in the evening, he felt refreshed.

On the deck, Lao Wu had set up an automatic grill, and the dining table beside it was filled with marinated ingredients—seafood, meat, and vegetables—all vibrantly arranged, making the meal look both nutritious and appetizing. Shen Ran felt hungry just looking at it.

He glanced around, but Zhao Jiyu was nowhere to be seen. So he asked Lao Wu,
“Is he downstairs?”

“He’s napping too,”
Lao Wu said while busying himself.
“In his room.”

Shen Ran headed down the stairs. The bedroom door was closed, and when he tried the handle, he found it wasn’t locked.

Zhao Jiyu lay with his back facing the bed’s entrance, a thin blanket draped over him.

Shen Ran had rarely seen Zhao Jiyu sleep during the day. He tiptoed closer and peeked over. Zhao Jiyu was deep asleep, showing no sign of waking.

Yesterday, while eating marinated seafood, Shen Ran had noticed the bloodshot veins in Zhao Jiyu’s eyes behind his glasses. Zhao Jiyu had explained that it was his first time handling a major project and that there was a lot to learn. Shen Ran had told him to rest early after dinner, but Zhao Jiyu had simply laughed it off and even dragged him to sit by the sea in Baicheng for a while.

Before sleeping, Zhao Jiyu had taken a shower, and now he was wearing a tank top and shorts. Shen Ran pressed the back of his hand against Zhao Jiyu’s exposed arm—it was cold. Gently, he pulled the blanket up to his neck.

He had thought his movements were careful enough, but his wrist was suddenly caught.

The sleeping man turned toward him, smiling even before he opened his eyes.

Shen Ran felt like he had been caught doing something wrong. He tried to pull his hand back twice, but Zhao Jiyu held on firmly.

Then he heard Zhao Jiyu’s drowsy voice say,
“Lie down and sleep a little longer?”

Shen Ran stopped trying to pull his hand away and looked at the nightstand.
“No, I slept plenty.”

“I can tell,”
Zhao Jiyu said, opening his eyes to look at him.
“You were even snoring just now, like a little pig.”

“Impossible,” Shen Ran denied immediately.
“I don’t snore.”

Zhao Jiyu laughed so hard his shoulders shook. As he propped himself up on the mattress, the blanket slipped down to his waist, revealing his chest and arms beneath a dark-colored tank top. Their builds weren’t too different, but Zhao Jiyu’s shoulders were broader, and his skin was fairer.

Shen Ran found himself staring at his collarbones, his thoughts momentarily unfocused—until the ringtone from his pocket interrupted him.

They were still within a signal zone. Seeing that the caller was Aunt Wen from back home, Shen Ran answered. On the other end, Aunt Wen called his name, but then Xu Huijuan took the phone.

“Ranran, no worries, no worries. Your Aunt Wen called the wrong number,”
Xu Huijuan explained.
“Are you at work?”

Shen Ran glanced at the person in front of him—Zhao Jiyu was also looking at him, absentmindedly rubbing his fingers. Shen Ran pulled his hand away and got up to step outside.
“No, I’m out with a friend.”

“Is it Mingjin?”

“No, someone else.”

“Well, take care of yourself. Don’t stay out too late—get some rest.”

Xu Huijuan gave her usual reminders. After chatting briefly with his mother, Shen Ran hung up. By then, Zhao Jiyu had also gotten up, and the two of them headed to the upper deck.

Lao Wu had already plated the grilled food, while Zhao Jiyu went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of white port. Shen Ran remembered that Zhao Jiyu had opened the same wine the last time he was here, which made him feel a little strange.

Dinner was relaxed. The entire sea was wrapped in a misty sunset glow, and even the sound of the waves felt gentle. Afterward, Zhao Jiyu picked up his mirrorless camera and took photos of Shen Ran, capturing the fading sunlight and the vast expanse of stars.

During this time, they also went fishing. Even though they sat there for hours without catching anything, it was a rare moment of ease. By the time it passed 11 p.m., Shen Ran still didn’t feel like sleeping.

For the late-night meal, Lao Wu prepared Spanish mackerel dumplings and fish maw chicken soup. Shen Ran had just digested dinner, so he hesitated in front of the feast, not touching his chopsticks. Zhao Jiyu thought he didn’t like the food, but then Shen Ran frowned and said,
“I think I’m getting fat. I can’t keep eating like this.”

“Where are you getting fat? I just applied sunscreen on you this morning, and I couldn’t even pinch an inch of fat,”
Zhao Jiyu said.

Shen Ran pressed his lips together, glancing at the faint outlines of Zhao Jiyu’s abs under his tank top. Then he thought about his own abs, which were nearly disappearing. “I haven’t gone running all summer.”

Zhao Jiyu shoved the chopsticks into his hand.
“Eat first, then worry about it later. We can’t waste food.”

That hit Shen Ran’s weak spot. He finished the meal and sat around for another half an hour before finally starting to feel sleepy. He turned to ask Zhao Jiyu if he wanted to go rest, only to find that Zhao Jiyu had slumped against the chair, dozing off.

He had just napped in the afternoon—how was he already this tired again? Shen Ran remembered that Zhao Jiyu had been so busy these past few days that he hadn’t even gone home. Planning to grab a blanket for him, Shen Ran got up, but Zhao Jiyu woke up right then. He stood groggily and said, “Let’s go to bed.”

Zhao Jiyu slung an arm around Shen Ran’s shoulders as they walked back to the cabin. When they reached the stairs, he let go but instead grasped Shen Ran’s wrist.

The warmth of his skin against Shen Ran’s wrist was noticeable with every step back to the room. The moment he saw the bed, memories of past encounters with Zhao Jiyu flashed through his mind.

Turning away, Shen Ran reached for the doorknob.
“There’s a small sofa in the hallway. I’ll sleep there.”

Holding the door shut to stop him from leaving, Zhao Jiyu lowered his gaze slightly and looked at him.
“Don’t worry. This time, until you’re ready, I won’t touch you again.”

Shen Ran’s heart felt as if it had been lightly but firmly struck. He instinctively looked up.
“Ready for what?”

Zhao Jiyu took his hand, intertwining their fingers, and spoke with deliberate seriousness: “Let me be your boyfriend.”