TVDC 7: Closeness

The first time He Zhiyuan saw Qiu Xuning cry was yesterday, when Qiu Xining came back. The moment he laid eyes on him, his tears brimmed over, looking utterly shaken. The second time He Zhiyuan saw him cry was now.

After being discharged, it was as if all the strength in Qiu Xuning’s bones and flesh had been wrung out. With the slightest twist, tears would spill out like water.

“You—” He Zhiyuan let out a single word before cutting himself off, his voice fading into silence.

Qiu Xuning refused to lift his head. He wanted to speak, but the moment he opened his mouth, his throat felt blocked. If he tried to say anything, he knew it would dissolve into sobs, and that would only be more humiliating.

He bent down, set the bowl of rice on the floor, sniffled, and with his head lowered, turned to leave.

He Zhiyuan suddenly caught his wrist, his voice low and unhurried. “Wait.”

Qiu Xuning struggled a little, but couldn’t break free. His shoulders kept trembling, the sound of his sobs especially stark in the quiet space. His head drooped so low it seemed about to fall against his chest.

Because of the way he was standing, his slender neck looked especially striking. It was delicate like a swan’s, carrying a fragile sort of beauty. Under the bright light, it even glimmered faintly.

Even at night, Qiu Xuning still wore his cap, with a few strands of black hair slipping out from beneath the brim.

From He Zhiyuan’s angle, he could only see part of his cheek. Flushed from emotion, his face had taken on a rosy tint, and even the thin curve of his ear was tinged with pink.

Qiu Xuning seemed to sense his gaze and forcibly turned his head the other way, avoiding his eyes.

“Wait a moment,” He Zhiyuan said quietly.

Qiu Xuning sniffled, his throat bobbing several times before he finally managed to speak, “What is it?”

He Zhiyuan’s eyes darkened, his voice low and rough with a husky edge. “I can get along with you.”

Qiu Xuning wiped at his tears, wanting to look back at him, but no matter how much he wiped, the tears just wouldn’t stop. The embarrassment made his face burn, so he tugged the brim of his cap down to hide his swollen eyes, and from beneath it, he stole a glance at He Zhiyuan’s face. “…Really?” he whispered.

He Zhiyuan released his hand, answering with a faint “Mm.”

With his back still turned, Qiu Xuning sniffled again. “I didn’t tell anyone about your watch and I don’t blame you for hitting me. It was my fault—I did the wrong thing and made you angry. I’m sorry.”

In truth, the way Qiu Xuning spoke with such a heavy nasal tone was almost funny, but He Zhiyuan didn’t laugh. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a tissue, and held it out to him.

Seeing the tissue, Qiu Xuning looked a little startled, almost flattered. He took it and mumbled his thanks, “Thank you.”

He dried his tears, then pressed the cool back of his hand gently against his eyes to ease the burning heat around them. Only then did he turn back around, his voice finally clearer as he asked, “…Are you hungry?”

Before He Zhiyuan could reply, Qiu Xuning continued, “You didn’t have dinner, you must be hungry.”

As he spoke, he cautiously lifted his eyes to glance at He Zhiyuan. The moment their gazes met, he quickly lowered them again. His eyes must be swollen and red right now—unsightly.

He Zhiyuan said, “Mm, I am hungry.”

Qiu Xuning wanted to smile, though nerves still tugged at him. “Then… will you eat…?”

He Zhiyuan didn’t answer. Qiu Xuning bent down, picked the bowl back up, and, without daring to look at him, held it out.

He Zhiyuan didn’t move. They stayed frozen like that, Qiu Xuning still holding the bowl out. His thin arms began to tremble, and finally he couldn’t help but glance up at He Zhiyuan, whispering, “It’s yours anyway, it’s better to eat it than let it go to waste.”

He Zhiyuan raised his brows slightly, his gaze deepening. Those clear, amber eyes of his, usually so bright, seemed like a silent tide beneath the dark sky at night, carrying a surge that never showed on the surface.

Qiu Xuning only dared a fleeting look before quickly turning away. He couldn’t bring himself to meet his eyes; they felt too sharp, too piercing, as if they could shatter every emotion he tried to hide, leaving him with no courage to draw closer.

Just as Qiu Xuning’s nerves were about to give way and he was ready to pull back, He Zhiyuan finally took the bowl from his hands.

Seeing this, Qiu Xuning’s lips curved into a smile, though he quickly pressed them together again, leaving only the faintest trace of shyness on his face.

But then he remembered what He Zhiyuan had said earlier—that he had thrown away the snacks Qiu had brought him. The smile vanished from his lips.

“Don’t throw it away…” he stammered, then added, “Meat is expensive now, you shouldn’t waste it.”

He Zhiyuan glanced at him, then began eating the bowl of rice right in front of him.

By now the dishes had long gone cold, but the rice beneath was still faintly warm.

Zhou Mingmei might be sharp-tongued and harsh, but her cooking was skilled and seasoned. Her food was genuinely delicious. At lunch, however, He Zhiyuan had eaten at school. The cafeteria in a private school was outsourced, the lower the cost, the higher the profit, so the taste was poor. Since He Zhiyuan only had a meal card, he had no choice but to eat cafeteria food. It was easy to imagine how much his stomach had suffered these past days.

Though He Zhiyuan tried his best to maintain an air of elegance while eating, he couldn’t quite hide the hunger in his pace. In just a few minutes, the bowl of rice was gone.

Seeing He Zhiyuan finish, Qiu Xuning felt a burst of joy, and it showed on his face in a lively smile. “W-was it good?”

He Zhiyuan cast him a glance but didn’t answer, simply handing the bowl back. Qiu Xuning took it, his eyes drifting past him, where he saw only a narrow bed. It’s just a wooden plank laid across two stools.

A sudden ache rose in Qiu Xuning’s chest. He thought, no matter how capable He Zhiyuan might become in the future, he was still just a seventeen-year-old boy living under someone else’s roof right now, without even a proper bed to sleep on.

His fingers gently rubbed the smooth porcelain bowl as he hesitated before saying, “I’ll convince my parents to let you move back. This place isn’t good.”

The room He Zhiyuan used to stay in was diagonally across from Qiu Xuning’s, much smaller than his own but far better than this storage room. At least it had a decent, spacious bed.

He Zhiyuan took a step back, his tall frame blocking Qiu Xuning’s line of sight. “No need. This is enough.”

He looked at Qiu Xuning, his gaze flickering slightly, and said softly, “Thank you.”

Qiu Xuning froze, a blush rising across his cheeks like evening clouds. He waved his hand, wanting to smile but not daring to, pressing his lips together to hold back the joy as he murmured, “Don’t mention it, we’re family.”

Family?

He Zhiyuan noticed that not only had Qiu Xuning’s face turned red, but even the thin curve of his ears peeking out from beneath his dark hair was flushed even deeper. His gaze darkened slightly, yet he made no attempt to refute Qiu Xuning’s words.

Qiu Xuning felt happy, though a strange emotion stirred within him as well. It seemed to him that he and He Zhiyuan were finally drawing closer. He lifted his eyes, which now shone as if starlight had fallen into them, and said softly, “Then… then if I give you something in the future, don’t throw it away, okay?”

When he said this, he was still a little nervous, and his voice trembled slightly. He was afraid that He Zhiyuan might reject him, but at the same time, he felt some anticipation, thinking that he could use this opportunity to slowly help He Zhiyuan get closer to Qiu Shunming’s family and ease the distance between them.

Qiu Xuning leaned forward slightly, the emotions in his eyes fully exposed, just waiting for a word from He Zhiyuan.

Qiu Xuning’s eyes, sparkling with a mixture of hope and anxiety, looked dazzling in the bright light. He had no idea that at this moment, all his feelings—joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness—were in He Zhiyuan’s hands. A single word from him could bring disappointment, and a single word could bring joy.

He Zhiyuan gazed at Qiu Xuning, but he only glanced at He Zhiyuan’s eyes briefly, like a dragonfly skimming the surface, then slightly lowered his gaze, focusing instead on He Zhiyuan’s smooth, elegantly defined jawline. In the end, he still didn’t dare to meet He Zhiyuan’s eyes directly.

“It won’t be thrown,” He Zhiyuan said, lowering his own gaze. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the pink bunny slippers on Qiu Xuning’s feet. It was soft and tender, perfectly matching Qiu Xuning’s “fragile” demeanor.

Qiu Xuning let out a sigh of relief, feeling happy. He wanted to say something more, but by this point, there was nothing left to say.

He rubbed his eyes, which were a little red and warm. At this moment, he really should have been going back to do his homework, otherwise, he might have to stay up late. His biological clock was fixed—he would get sleepy on schedule and simply couldn’t stay up.

“…I’ll be going then. Good night,” Qiu Xuning said softly, glancing one last time at He Zhiyuan’s handsome jawline.

He Zhiyuan paused and averted his gaze. “Mm.”

He didn’t say “good night” back, and Qiu Xuning felt a twinge of disappointment. But in the end, his happiness outweighed his disappointment.

This time, he really hadn’t come at the wrong moment.

Perhaps it was because he felt at ease, or because a hidden worry had been resolved, leaving him relaxed. Qiu Xuning slept soundly tonight.