SG 26

The warmth from Yan Anqing’s palm passed through his skin into Chu Baiyan’s body. He stopped moving and let him hold his wrist, while his free hand took out his phone and turned on the flashlight.

The downstairs neighbor was a young man too. When Chu Baiyan went in to take photos, Yan Anqing waited by the door. After taking the photos, they rode the elevator down together. This time the elevator was empty, and Yan Anqing’s expression relaxed.

The cat in the bushes was nowhere to be seen. Chu Baiyan imitated a meow, and a dark shadow immediately jumped out of the shrubs.

He opened the can and placed it on the ground. The kitten began eating greedily and soon finished it. When it was done, Chu Baiyan crouched and petted its small head. The kitten lay down quietly and narrowed its eyes in pleasure.

“Do you want to touch it? This one doesn’t bite.” He looked up at Yan Anqing. Having fed the kitten since it was little, he knew its temperament well enough to let him touch it.

Yan Anqing crouched beside him and extended his hand over the kitten’s back, but he didn’t dare to touch it.

Chu Baiyan petted the kitten’s head with one hand and took Yan Anqing’s hand with the other, guiding it from the kitten’s neck down to its back, stroking it twice.

When he felt that the kitten didn’t reject him, Yan Anqing gathered his courage and stroked it by himself a few times. Chu Baiyan let go of his hand and looked at him. Yan Anqing, crouched there with his head slightly bowed, looked like a kitten himself. The curve of his nape showed when he lowered his head. The man and the cat together were the most beautiful sight in the night.

Grandma had never allowed Yan Anqing to touch stray cats, saying that a scratch would mean a rabies shot and that cats had fleas. But since Chu Baiyan said it was fine, Yan Anqing believed it without question.

After rubbing the kitten’s head a few more times, Chu Baiyan released it and opened another packet of cat food, pouring it on the ground. When the kitten buried its head to eat, he threw the empty can and wrapper into the trash bin nearby.

He took out disinfectant wipes and handed one to Yan Anqing to clean his hands, then used one himself.

“When I’m not here, don’t touch random cats. I only touch this one because I know it. Some cats are afraid of people, and they’ll bite if you touch them.” Chu Baiyan reminded him.

Yan Anqing answered softly, “Mm.”

By the time they got home, it was already past Yan Anqing’s usual shower time. But since he was in a good mood, he quickly adjusted his schedule and shortened his SpongeBob time.

In the middle of the night, a muffled thunder sounded outside, followed by rain hitting the window. When he was alone, if he woke up at night, he usually couldn’t fall asleep again.

Now that Chu Baiyan was on the couch, Yan Anqing listened to the rhythm of his breathing and the sounds when he turned over, and he fell back asleep.

The next morning, it was still raining. Yan Anqing didn’t like rain, but since it meant fewer customers at the shop, it became something he didn’t like but could accept.

Chu Baiyan stood on the steps of Starfish Pottery shaking water off the umbrella, holding the breakfast he’d just bought. On his suggestion, Yan Anqing had tried beef noodles once, and since then his fondness for tofu pudding had changed to beef noodles.

“The rain outside’s heavy. Perfect day to stay in.” Chu Baiyan tore a fried dough stick in half and handed a piece to him.

Even with the umbrella, his clothes were wet. The fabric clung to his skin, outlining his collarbone and chest. Chu Baiyan didn’t notice and picked up the chopsticks to eat a large bite of noodles.

Yan Anqing stared at him, his gaze fixed on the damp patches of his shirt.

“The noodles will clump up.” Seeing him not moving his chopsticks, Chu Baiyan reminded him.

“Your clothes are wet.” Yan Anqing bit into his dough stick.

Chu Baiyan looked down. His chest was wet from rain. “It’s fine. It’s hot. It’ll dry soon.”

Yan Anqing stopped talking and ate his noodles in small bites, his eyes wandering toward him every so often.

After breakfast, they went downstairs. The gray sky and misty rain made the light in the workshop dim. When the fluorescent lamps turned on, it looked like dusk.

Yan Anqing put on his apron and stood in front of Chu Baiyan, waiting for him to tie it. The straps drew in his waist, and a bow hung at the back.

He started working the clay. His palms stretched and pressed the lump, shaping it into a cylinder. He used his thumbs to make an opening, and the rough shape of a cup quickly took form.

Each finger moved with precision. He knew exactly where to thin, where to shape, and where to use the wooden knife, without needing to look.

Chu Baiyan who was watching was restless and curious. “Can you teach me to make a cup?” he asked.

Yan Anqing adjusted the last shape of the cup, and when the wheel stopped spinning, he lifted his head. “Okay.”

Once he tried it himself, Chu Baiyan realized that watching Yan Anqing make pottery and doing it personally were completely different things. The clay was obedient in Yan Anqing’s hands, yielding to every touch. In his, it refused to cooperate.

He couldn’t even keep it on the wheel. The lump flew off several times. His eyes understood, but his hands didn’t.

“You need to press the clay firmly onto the wheel.”

“When you open the hole, find the center.”

Yan Anqing guided him from the side, but it didn’t help much. Chu Baiyan tried several times and still failed.

“Watch me.” He brought over a small stool and sat facing him.

He put a failed lump onto the wheel’s center and added water, shaping it into a cone. He took Chu Baiyan’s hands and placed them on the clay, guiding him in lifting and pressing it down.

“This gets rid of air bubbles so it won’t explode when fired.” Yan Anqing’s hand rested on the back of his, showing him when to pull up and when to press down.

“You have to find the exact center, or it’ll fail when you open the hole.” He guided Chu Baiyan’s thumbs to the middle and pressed down together, forming a small hollow in the clay.

Chu Baiyan’s arms were under Yan Anqing’s, enclosing him like he was holding him. Both of their hands were covered in wet clay, slick from contact.

His larger hands covered Yan Anqing’s smaller ones, and under their joined touch, the clay on the wheel began to obey.

“Press your thumbs harder, pull out, make a straight cylinder first.” Yan Anqing demonstrated how to stretch it into shape.

“The cylinder’s the basic form. If you want a short round cup, pinch the rim and pull outward slowly. If you want a bowl, keep stretching.” He explained as he worked.

The cylinder became rounder, then wider, and finally turned into a bowl. When the wheel stopped, he trimmed the rim into a lotus-leaf shape with a wooden knife. After it set, he cut it off with a clay wire and set it aside.

“Try again.” Yan Anqing cut another piece of clay and placed it on the wheel. When he turned his head to look at Chu Baiyan behind him, his nose was just under his chin.

The wheel started spinning again. Between Chu Baiyan and the clay sat Yan Anqing.

“Move closer. Too far, your arms can’t reach right.” He reminded him.

The stool shifted forward, closing the distance between them. The scent of bergamot from Yan Anqing’s skin filled Chu Baiyan’s breath.

With practice from before, this time went better. Whenever a motion went wrong, the hand resting beside his would lift to adjust his movement.

Warm breath brushed across his cheek. Their bodies were close, his back against Chu Baiyan’s chest. Yan Anqing felt hot. Rainy nights were always stuffy. The air conditioner should probably be colder.

Under their joined hands, the clay slowly took shape. The body of a mug appeared.