SG 14

Yesterday during a break between shows, Chu Baiyan went to the Starfish Hall to find the keeper and ask where he could buy some rare starfish that could be raised at home. The keeper said the aquarium had a dedicated supplier and suggested he contact them directly. They didn’t sell retail, but if he mentioned it in advance, the supplier could bring a few when delivering to the aquarium.

The keeper sent a voice message to the supplier and shared their WeChat contact with Chu Baiyan, then joked, “Don’t you already spend all day in the water watching fish and starfish? Still not tired of them?”

“I’m buying for a friend.” Chu Baiyan lowered his head and added the supplier’s contact while answering casually. That day, he had learned that the starfish in Yan Anqing’s tank were only “Sea Swallow,” “Lin’s,” and “Blue Finger,” all common species. Since Yan Anqing liked starfish and the sea, Chu Baiyan decided to choose something that matched his tastes.

The keeper laughed. “You young people mostly keep cats and dogs, not starfish. People who keep aquatic creatures are usually lonely.”

Chu Baiyan’s fingers stopped typing. He knew it was a joke, but the image of Yan Anqing living alone appeared in his mind, and his chest tightened, like drinking lemon water without sugar, the sourness slowly spreading inside.

That morning, Chu Baiyan still brought tofu pudding, fried dough sticks, and rice cakes for Yan Anqing. Yan Anqing sat upright while eating. His movements were slow but steady, and every bite was serious. When he ate the fried dough sticks, he dipped them in the tofu pudding soup before taking a big bite. It was an ordinary breakfast, yet he ate it as if it were the finest delicacy.

Chu Baiyan preferred savory breakfasts, but watching Yan Anqing eat with such focus made his own food taste better.

The new “merman” plate had been colored and dried, and it was finally time to glaze it. After breakfast, they entered the workspace. Yan Anqing put on his apron and turned his back naturally, letting Chu Baiyan tie the strings.

Since childhood, his grandma had taught him not to trouble others with things he could do himself. Except for his grandparents, he believed that asking for help too often made people dislike him. Yet for some reason, around Chu Baiyan, it felt natural to rely on him. Chu Baiyan tied the bow in no time.

After sieving the glaze three times and filling the sprayer, Yan Anqing placed the colored “merman” plate on a stand and began glazing it. For ceramics with a three-dimensional surface and many details, spraying created a smoother, more even coat than brushing or dipping.

Spraying glaze required precision. The strength of the hand had to stay consistent, and the motion speed could not change, or the misted glaze would not cover evenly. Yan Anqing held his breath and focused. When the first layer was done, he exhaled.

One coat wasn’t enough. After the surface set, he used a soft cloth with polishing paste to smooth uneven spots before spraying again. Each time he finished a layer, he checked his phone. It was past nine, and his grandma still hadn’t come.

When the last layer was done, he put down the sprayer and looked at the clock. It was already ten.

“Your alarm didn’t ring.” Yan Anqing looked up in surprise. Chu Baiyan’s alarm always rang at nine forty-five.

“I’m off on Mondays. I don’t need to go to the aquarium.” Chu Baiyan explained.

Yan Anqing lowered his eyes to the glazed plate. “Can you stay all day today?”

“Do you want me to stay all day?” Chu Baiyan smiled unconsciously and left the decision to him.

Yan Anqing answered with a soft “mm.” At first, he felt happy, then a little disappointed.

“After glazing, the plate has to dry for a while. When it’s no longer damp, it can go in the kiln. You can take it tomorrow.”

It was good news, but when the plate was finished and he gave it to Chu Baiyan, there would be no reason for him to visit again. Yan Anqing could still go to the aquarium, but he wouldn’t be able to talk to him. The thought of that made his happiness fade.

Chu Baiyan didn’t realize where his thoughts had gone. He assumed Yan Anqing worried he might get bored after finishing the plate.

“What else are you planning to make today? Watching you work is interesting.”

Yan Anqing didn’t answer. He stood up and walked out.

“Where are you going?” Chu Baiyan followed, confused.

Yan Anqing walked to the counter and reached to move a chair behind it. Chu Baiyan hurried over and lifted it first.

“For me to sit?” he asked, pretending not to know.

“You’ll get tired if you stand.”

Only when Chu Baiyan sat down beside him did Yan Anqing cut a piece of clay with a wire, knead it a few times, and place it on the wheel.

He pressed the lump into a dome and lifted and lowered it repeatedly until a cup began to take shape. Then he used a wooden knife to form it into a rounded mug. After setting it with a fan, he cut it from the wheel, flipped it over, and trimmed the base with a scraper. Finally, he rolled the scraps together, shaped them into a strip, and attached it as the handle.

A round-bellied mug appeared, but it looked plain. Yan Anqing cut a smaller piece of clay and pinched several tiny bits from it, rolling them into small balls on a towel, pressing them flat with his fingers, layering them one by one into a rose.

Then came a second one. Everything seemed to follow a clear program inside his head. Whatever shape he needed, he created it easily. Watching him made Chu Baiyan’s fingers itch.

“Can I make a petal?”

Yan Anqing said nothing. He placed a few small pieces of clay in front of him and continued his own work.

Chu Baiyan copied his movements, rolling the clay into a ball, flattening it into a disk. The steps were the same, but his disk cracked around the edges. Yan Anqing’s didn’t. He tried again and got the same result.

“Why does mine crack around the edges?” Chu Baiyan showed his piece.

“Your hands are too dry.” Yan Anqing pushed a sponge soaked with water toward him and said, “Roll the clay on a damp towel. Before you press it, touch the sponge so your hands stay wet. If they’re too dry, the edges will crack.”

There was a towel on the table, but Chu Baiyan hadn’t realized it was part of the process.

He followed the instruction, rolled on the towel, moistened his hands, and pressed. A smooth, even circle appeared with no cracks. He made several more and stacked them together. They were rough, but they looked like a rose.

“It’s kind of ugly.” He set the rose on the table.

Yan Anqing picked it up, refined the edges with a thin wooden knife, and looked at it.

“This works.”

Chu Baiyan leaned closer. After Yan Anqing’s adjustment, his rose looked much better. He was about to praise him when the bell at the door rang.

“Baby, are you making pottery?” Grandma entered and saw through the glass partition that there was someone beside Yan Anqing.