MFW 18

That night, after Li Fei finished showering and stepped out, he was startled to find Fu Siting standing stiffly by the door.

His persistent presence reminded Li Fei of the first night he came home, clutching his little dinosaur toy.

“…”

“What’s wrong? Is there something you want to say, Xiaoting?”

Fu Siting remained silent.

Li Fei had grown accustomed to his silence and inscrutability. Just as he was rapidly scheming how to coax him out of it, the stiff figure suddenly spoke: “Today… I was happy.”

After a moment’s pause, he added: “I’ve been happy before too.”

“These past few days… I’ve been happy the whole time.”

“…”

“Thank you.”

Li Fei froze. Xiaoting, who usually hid his emotions so well, could be unexpectedly candid at times.

But this seemed to be his limit.

After saying those words, he stiffened again, motionless. Just as Li Fei thought this was already precious enough, Fu Siting suddenly reached out his arms on his own initiative. With a very stiff embrace, he held Li Fei.

“…”

Li Fei had acted in countless films, portraying many complex emotions. Yet never had a moment felt so…

After getting into bed, Fu Siting unexpectedly moved closer to him.

Li Fei simply grabbed him like he had that morning, pulling him into his embrace. After a moment of stiffness, Fu Siting quickly relaxed his body. For the first time, he fell asleep in Li Fei’s arms, completely defenseless.

“.…..”

“……”

Alright, today it was Li Fei’s turn to be unable to sleep.

At least, all traces of sleepiness vanished in that instant. He studied Fu Siting in his arms. Hmm. Whether he had amnesia or not, he was still this adorable.

Li Fei planted a light kiss on his hair.

It was a kiss for sixteen-year-old Fu Xiaoting, and also for his amnesiac, clueless fiancé.

Tomorrow… what kind of program should they do?

…

That night, Fu Siteng slept exceptionally soundly.

When he woke in the morning, daylight had already filled the room. Li Fei was still asleep. He lay quietly nestled in Li Fei’s embrace, listening to his steady heartbeat and his own accelerating, chaotic heartbeat.

After a while, he moved, but Li Fei still didn’t wake.

He silently waited for the little prince to awaken.

He hoped Li Fei would groggily grope him all over, just like yesterday.

Human greed really shouldn’t be nurtured carelessly, Fu Siteng suddenly realized… He was now starting to take it for granted, developing so many, many desires.

A moment later, Li Fei stirred.

He was just as groggy as yesterday. Cradling Fu Siteng’s face, his eyes half-open and unfocused, he leaned in and began rubbing his nose against Fu Siteng’s.

Fu Siteng: “…”

Fu Siteng: “……………”

He’d thought Li Fei was about to kiss him.

This was bad.

If this continued, he’d only grow more and more greedy, each day breeding bigger, deadlier desires.

Half an hour later, Li Fei finally woke up properly, but today he lingered in bed, reluctant to get up.

Fu Siteng found this somewhat novel.

Only belatedly did he realize that Li Fei had always projected an aura of formidable competence and effortless mastery, but never one of “relaxation.”

Fu Siteng struggled to articulate the sensation, Li Fei’s overall impression was that of a precise individual.

Never late, never making mistakes, never lingering in bed, never losing his mind. As if he was perpetually alert and meticulous.

That Li Fei probably wouldn’t… wrap his arms around his waist first thing in the morning, rubbing against his chest for no reason. And certainly wouldn’t murmur sleepily in his arms with that half-awake tone:

“I’m so hungry, but I really don’t feel like getting up to cook…”

“…”

“Besides, my cooking isn’t good anyway. I don’t feel like eating it at all.”

“…”

Fu Siting thought for a moment, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. “Then today… how about I make breakfast?”

Li Fei’s voice sounded sleepy: “Hmm?”

“I can cook. I’ll make it.”

“Hmm… But didn’t Xiaoting lose his memory? Does he still have the skill to make breakfast?”

Fu Siteng nodded: “I can do it.”

…

Li Fei had succeeded again.

Tricking his amnesiac boyfriend into cooking, he really had no shame.

But from Li Fei’s perspective, who was to blame when Fu Siting had been cooking and feeding him for two years of cohabitation? Fu Siting’s cooking was incredibly delicious, having long since spoiled his palate.

Once you’ve lived in luxury, it’s hard to go back to frugality. A week straight of scrambled eggs and bacon—typical white people eals—had Fu Siting on the verge of breaking down, and Li Fei was about to lose it too.

What made it worse was that their housekeeper, being white, only knew how to cook white people food.

Li Fei eventually resorted to ordering takeout rather than letting the housekeeper cook.

In his view, white people’s palates were fundamentally flawed, sugar made everything cloyingly sweet, cheese unbearably salty, meat greasily overcooked. How could anyone stomach such tasteless drivel?

All things considered, tricking a sixteen-year-old high school boy with amnesia into cooking was cruel.

But not being cruel to him meant being cruel to myself!

That said, Li Fei still put on a show of being nice: “Are you sure? Is this too much to ask? Maybe we should just order takeout instead. What do you want? A burger?”

His phone was seized.

Fu Siting’s gaze was unwavering: “I’ll cook.”

Fu Siteng excelled at turning ordinary ingredients into delicious meals. After all, his life held few sources of joy or excitement, so eating became one of the few things that brought him a little happiness.

The simplest, quickest, and most reliable breakfast he knew was an egg pancake.

All it took was some flour, a few eggs, a bit of oil and sugar, cooked until lightly browned.

Fu Siteng never imagined that someone so familiar with cooking would encounter difficulties in the kitchen.

He was too accustomed to the gas stove at home that required multiple attempts to ignite and the small, dented iron pan. Now, facing the luxurious, professional-grade, high-end multi-function gas stove and kitchenware in this opulent kitchen… he was dumbfounded.

He certainly hadn’t anticipated having a cheer squad while cooking.

The moment he picked up the pan, Li Fei slipped an apron around his waist from behind. As soon as he cracked an egg, Li Fei handed him olive oil. When he began stirring, Li Fei perched on the nearby cabinet to watch. Basically, every move Fu Siteng made was met with praise.

“Look at our Xiaoting whisking that egg batter always so silky smooth.”

“Our Xiaoting’s heat control is always spot-on.”

“Mmm, smells amazing.”

Men are such fools, they get carried away with compliments.

Fu Siteng’s hands moved much faster now. After all, he’d been cooking for himself since childhood, yet in ten years, no one had ever praised him.

When was his first time holding a spatula? Fu Siteng thought back, probably around six years old.

Ever since his grandmother passed away when he was five, he’d had to cook for himself.

Jiang Yueping never cooked a single meal for him. Fu Siting vaguely recalled that in the year after his grandmother died, she fed him nothing but store-bought steamed buns, flower rolls, and fried dough sticks, occasionally plain sponge cakes.

Nothing but various flour-based foods. Fu Siting barely ate any meat or vegetables that entire year, suffering from severe malnutrition.

When he came to his senses, he was already trying to take the limp, wilted meat and vegetables from the fridge, mimicking how his grandmother cooked, attempting to use a pot to cook them.

That’s how six-year-old Fu Siting learned to cook for himself. He also learned to patch old clothes, glue shoes with superglue, and more. When the house ran out of rice or flour, he’d even take several dozen coins from the piggy bank to fill his stomach. Then, dragging a small construction cart he’d found somewhere, he’d haul home sacks of rice and flour.

Of course, a six-year-old boy in ragged clothes and worn-out shoes, buying noodles all by himself, stood out too conspicuously among the neighbors.

Gossip spread quickly. People often whispered behind his back, saying his mother, Jiang Yueping, was selfish and self-serving. She only cared about seeking pleasure with other men outside, completely neglecting such a young child.

Adults teased Fu Siting, saying, “Your mom doesn’t love you. She abandoned you.”

They called his mother a promiscuous, bad woman.

Back then, Fu Siting was still young. Hearing these words, he would hide alone in the empty house, crying quietly against the peeling wall corner.

But as he grew older, he began defending his mother in front of those people.

She was indeed often absent from home.

But at least she hadn’t just walked out like his father did. She didn’t care for him, but she still bought him things occasionally and gave him some pocket money, ensuring he didn’t go hungry.

It was just that her love for him seemed genuinely less than the love she gave to the men outside. Only after being dumped would she resolve to return home for a short stay. During those times, she would appropriately play the role of a warm, loving mother.

Jiang Yueping was exceptionally beautiful in her youth.

The reason she could marry four more times after separating from Fu Siteng’s father was precisely because of her beauty, she could snap her fingers and have men lining up endlessly.

Yet beauty proved often useless.

Jiang Yueping herself couldn’t fathom why, despite her tendril-like clinging to every man who came at her beck and call, she never managed to hold onto a single one.

Though rumors painted her promiscuous, Jiang Yueping wasn’t the type to juggle multiple partners.

She was intensely devoted, clinging fiercely to men, bombarding them with relentless calls.

Yet even with such proactive advances from a beauty like her, men often took advantage before quickly growing tired of her “aggressiveness” and “madness,” eager to cast her aside.

This cycle repeated endlessly. Jiang Yueping couldn’t understand it herself, crying and cursing daily: “Men are all scum.”

Countless times she’d cling to Fu Xiaoting, crying that she’d never seek out men again, vowing to spend her life devoted solely to her son. Yet come the next day, she’d still lose her head the moment she met a new man.

This left young Fu Siting, barely seven or eight years old, understanding early on that when people make promises, you should treat them like the wind, don’t believe a single word.

The pan sizzled as the egg pancake cooked to perfection.

Even with unfamiliar cookware, his casual flipping still achieved the ideal heat. A golden, slightly charred pancake emerged flawlessly.

Serving the meal, Fu Siting pushed Jiang Yueping’s troubles from his mind.

Li Fei even solemnly took photos of his pancake.

“…” One shot from the left, one from the right. What had the pancake ever done to deserve this? Finally, after snapping the pictures, he picked it up and took a big bite.

“Delicious!”

Fu Siteng’s ears flushed red, and his eyes crinkled a little.

Who said hardship was meaningless? All those years cooking alone had finally paid off. The Little Prince from Planet B612 actually loved his omelette, devoured it with such relish.

It was peaceful.

These days, he often wondered what Li Fei saw in his future self.

True, the twenty-eight-year-old Fu Siteng was reasonably good-looking and had a successful career. His credentials weren’t bad, but one mustn’t forget the environment Li Fei had grown up in.

He was immersed in both the entertainment world and the elite social circles. In either circle, just pick anyone at random, who wasn’t handsome or beautiful? Who didn’t have a great figure? Who didn’t have money to burn?

Li Fei had been surrounded by the world’s most elite and dazzling individuals since childhood. Fu Siteng held no inherent advantage over them. What had made him stand out?

He never found the answer.

But at least, Li Fei loved the food he cooked.

This thought made Fu Siting’s eyes light up. Not only could he make breakfast, but he could also cook lunch and dinner, ensuring every meal was visually appealing, aromatic, and delicious.

Oh, and he washed clothes entirely by hand, always getting them exceptionally clean!

…

However, in reality, Li Fei’s household never gave him the chance to be a “gray boy” washing dishes or doing laundry. (metaphorical term Fu Siting uses to describe himself as a poor, neglected, or overlooked child.)

Golden Oak’s dedicated housekeeper arrived daily at set times, handling grocery shopping, meal prep, laundry, and dishwashing.

After dinner, Li Fei nudged him. “Pick out something comfortable. Let’s get ready to go.”

But he hadn’t yet told Fu Siteng what today’s activity entailed.

What could it be? Only after getting into the car did Fu Siteng finally ask.

“Oh, we’re going to pick up the dog.”

“…”

“That filthy little stray you found last month when we went to Chinatown. It was sick and infested with parasites. We kept it at the pet hospital for a month of treatment. We scheduled today for the pickup.”

He glanced up and suddenly noticed Fu Siting’s expression had become indescribably complex for a split second.

“…”

“What? Didn’t Fu Siting like puppies back in high school?”

No.

No, he did.

He absolutely loved puppies!

He’d always wanted to have one, for so very long.

His childhood home felt so empty; he’d desperately wished for a puppy’s companionship.

But that home simply didn’t seem to have the means to support a puppy, and he feared he couldn’t care for it properly. So many years passed like that.

And now, he was finally going to have a puppy?

The pet hospital was soon reached. Fu Siting’s heart pounded as he looked at the many cages inside. Until the doctor carried out a puppy barely larger than a palm and held it before him.

That was absolutely the puppy Fu Siteng had dreamed of.

The puppy he’d longed to raise in his dreams was precisely this kind of short-haired, local breed, its fur somewhere between creamy white and pale yellow. He’d even thought of naming such a puppy “Cheese.”

Because the most memorable thing he’d ever eaten, from childhood to adulthood, was a small piece of cheese bread.

It was handed out during a spring outing in elementary school, sweet, salty, and fragrant, a taste he’d never experienced before, an unforgettable delight.

…

The puppy’s fluffy body trembled slightly, its eyes holding a hint of timidity.

Fu Siteng’s heart instantly melted. He tentatively reached out, but the puppy whimpered and tried to hide.

In that moment, he was charmed by the adorable way the little dog twisted its plump body away. Yet, his heart bitterly ached, stinging his eyes.

His hand froze mid-air, until Li Fei also extended his own.

True to his reputation as a fairy-tale prince, the simple gesture drew the little creature closer, its round eyes blinking as it allowed him to pet it.

Li Fei effortlessly scooped the puppy into his arms. “There, there. No need to be afraid.”

“Here, Fu Xiaoting, go ahead and pet it.”

In Li Fei’s arms, the puppy finally stopped dodging. Fu Siting cautiously reached out and finally touched its soft, warm fur.

Li Fei picked up the puppy’s paw: “Fu Xiaoting, open your hand.”

The puppy’s paw landed in his palm, its texture feeling almost unreal. Li Fei glanced at the bag of dog treats on the table: ” You feed it.”

“……”

The puppy’s tongue was wet. As it licked the food, it also licked Fu Siting.

After finishing the bag of treats, Li Fei handed the puppy to him: “You can hold it now.”

“……”

The puppy’s body looked small, and felt even smaller when held.

Yet it was bursting with energy. The puppy finally seemed to sense Fu Siting’s kindness, nudging his hand with its fluffy little head and making soft whimpering sounds. Fu Siting held the puppy stiffly, his eyes burning as if tears were about to spill.

Back home, the puppy ate its fill, then curled up on a small blanket by the floor-to-ceiling window and fell asleep.

Fu Siting was still in a daze.

Just days ago, his life had been dark and hopeless. Why was he so happy now?

The puppy snored softly. He whispered to Li Fei, “What should we name it?”

Li Fei considered it. “Cheese? You mentioned wanting to call it that before.”

Fu Siting fell silent for a moment, listening to his own breath. “Really? Can we?”

Li Fei narrowed his dark eyes. “‘Cheese is power’, isn’t that perfect?”

Fu Siting was satisfied.

That afternoon, the puppy woke from its nap and immediately caused trouble.

The moment it was out of sight, it knocked over the vase the housekeeper had just arranged, splattering red nutrient solution all over itself.

Fu Siting: “I’ll wash it!”

The puppy was exceptionally uncooperative during bath time. Fu Siting had to repeatedly catch it in the bathroom. Before the dog was even clean, the dye had instead stained him.

“…”

“Good boy, good boy,” he could only gently hold the puppy down, coaxing softly, “I know you had a rough past and don’t like water. But you really need to get clean. Just bear with it a little longer, okay?”

It took Fu Siting nearly two hours to successfully bathe and dry the dog. Exhausted, he collapsed onto the sofa afterward.

A strange thought suddenly crossed his mind: Could it be that in Li Fei’s eyes, his sixteen-year-old self also resembled an unruly, traumatized little puppy?

At dusk, Fu Siting took the puppy out to the garden again for a playful romp.

The puppy scampered ahead joyfully, occasionally glancing back to make sure he was still there before continuing its exploration.

Fu Siting patiently followed along, not expecting much.

But the puppy brought him back a pinecone, then whimpered and rubbed against his pant leg, begging to be picked up.

In the end, he carried the puppy back to the room. For the rest of the evening, the puppy lay belly-up on his lap, comfortably eyes closed, its limbs occasionally kicking contentedly.

Fu Siting: “…”

He didn’t speak, nor did he dare move. When Li Fei looked over, his gaze was filled with the same expression one reserves for something adorable.

Yeah, puppies really are adorable.

It seemed like he truly had everything now…

Author’s Note:

Li Fei: It is adorable, “puppy” is adorable.

Xiaoting had only been nurtured for a few days, yet he already had love to share with the puppy.