TWSITAOCP Chapter 39

Knock. Knock. The door was lightly tapped twice.

The morning chorus of birdsong, the sound of a car engine, and the sizzling sounds from the kitchen downstairs blended into a noisy cacophony, yet the room remained utterly silent.

“They’re not awake yet. Don’t bother calling them. They’ll go downstairs to eat when they wake up,” Yuan Yu said.

“They can really sleep,” came a sigh from a young woman.

There were two sets of high-heeled footsteps. One descended from upstairs to downstairs, then abruptly stopped in front of another door in the distance, followed by two thunderous slams on the door. The young woman shouted into the room without a shred of decorum, “Yu Si! Where did you hide my car keys?” 

“I didn’t take them!” 

The housekeeper muttered, “The sun is already high in the sky.“

“Why are they–?” Yu Liao paused as he passed by, asking, “Do we have any visitors?”

Yuan Yu said, “Xiao Xiu rested here yesterday.”

Yu Liao seemed surprised for a moment, then muttered something under his breath.

Initially, Yuan Yu had probably intended to wait for the two of them to wake up. After all, with a guest in the house, it wouldn’t be right for her, as the hostess, to remain absent the entire time. But the room had been quiet for too long. 

The gate opened repeatedly, cars started and left one after another, and even as the entire house settled back into silence, there was still no movement from inside. 

Yan Xiu woke up once when the first car engine sounded. It was around the usual time for the school’s wake-up bell to ring.

Weekends at the Yan household had never been this noisy, so he was briefly taken aback. It took him a moment to groggily realize he was at the Yu family’s home. 

Then he fell asleep again.

He woke up a second time around ten o’clock. The first thing Yan Xiu saw when he opened his eyes was soft, short hair that reached under his chin.

Young Master Yu had probably never shared a bed with anyone before. Once asleep, he was very territorial, spending the entire night trying to push the intruder off the bed.

Yan Xiu woke up several times. Eventually, he simply placed a quilt as a barrier between them, though he had no idea how Yu Sui had managed to roll over it. At this moment, Yan Xiu could barely move. Yu Sui’s arms were wrapped around Yan Xiu’s waist and abdomen over the quilt, tightly gripping the headboard. About seventy percent of his body weight was pressed onto Yan Xiu. 

Yan Xiu struggled to prop himself up. Yu Sui lifted slightly with the movement, then sank back down heavily, landing squarely on Yan Xiu’s waist and abdomen. 

A boy’s lower abdomen is a sensitive area. Even through the quilt, Yan Xiu’s brows instantly furrowed. For a moment, his expression went blank. His raised hand hovered over Yu Sui’s back several times, strongly tempted to toss this troublemaker out. 

The troublemaker, perhaps sensing this murderous intent in his dream, scratched his neck before grabbing his collar and rolling into the other side of the blanket.

The last time Yu Sui bought a bed, he had chosen the largest one available. The Yu family was superstitious, believing that the size of the bed determined a person’s potential for growth—much like not buying shoes that are too small for growing feet. Whether it actually worked was debatable, but Yu Sui’s height had indeed increased impressively since he entered his growth spurt. 

Now, with one roll, Yu Sui ended up far away. He curled up in another corner of the bed, instinctively pulling the quilt over himself before turning over, presenting the back of his head to Yan Xiu as he continued sleeping. 

Freed from the weight, Yan Xiu’s limbs felt light again. He sat up against the headboard, wrapped in the quilt, and checked the time on his phone. A few minutes later, he pushed the quilt aside and got up to wash up. 

Just as the sound of running water came from the adjacent bathroom, Yu Sui, curled up in the corner of the bed, abruptly opened his eyes. Dazedly scratching his hair, he hugged the blanket tighter and silently shifted toward the head of the bed. 

He had actually woken up a little earlier than Yan Xiu—just a fraction of a second, right as his consciousness surfaced, Yan Xiu had opened his eyes. 

Poor Yu Sui hadn’t even had time to figure out why he was lying in the same bed as his deskmate before he accidentally knocked his deskmate senseless the next moment. 

He clearly heard Yan Xiu’s muffled groan. 

Boys of sixteen or seventeen are like trees bearing fruit on the verge of ripeness, where even a passing breeze stirs up restless green fruit. It’s precisely the age where they’re easily provoked and unsettled. 

Yu Sui propped himself up on his legs and slowly rubbed his face. A wave of guilt and embarrassment washed over him. The young master looked up, only to forget there was a wall behind him and slammed his head against it. This time, he was truly stunned, falling straight onto the pillow and blankets like he’d been shot, clutching the back of his head and remaining motionless.

The commotion was quite loud. Yan Xiu shook off the water droplets and came out, his gaze first sweeping around the floor—the handsome Yu wasn’t on the floor.

Then he looked at the bed; the guy was lying face down, like he was doing a backbend.

Yan Xiu stood by the bed for two seconds, then reached out and gently patted Yu Sui’s hands, which were resting on the back of his head. “Did you bump your head?” he asked.

“…It’s fine.” Yu Sui loosened his grip, turning his face to the side to reveal one eye, its eyelid drooping slightly from sleep. “Have you washed your face?”

Yan Xiu didn’t ask when he woke up. “I was just about to.”

Yu Sui buried his face in his hands again. “Then go ahead, don’t worry about me.”

Yan Xiu raised an eyebrow slightly, but said nothing. He picked up the corner of the blanket that had fallen to the floor and tossed it over Yu Sui, then went straight to the bathroom to wash his face.

A few minutes later, Yu Sui leaned against the bathroom doorway with his phone, confessing without being prompted. He stared intently at the screen, his voice hesitant. “Hey… was that earlier serious?” 

Yan Xiu: “…”

Yu Sui continued looking at his phone, his focus so intense as if some momentous national crisis had occurred that morning.

Yan Xiu chose the third option between “You actually woke up” and “Why didn’t you keep pretending?” and said, “Why don’t you try it yourself?”

“Huh?” Yu Sui couldn’t help but glance at Yan Xiu with a startled look.

Yan Xiu seemed to have no intention of discussing this further with Yu Sui. He slammed the door shut, locking the young master out.

It was quite awkward.

Yu Sui grabbed a new set of toiletries from the shelf outside, slipped on his slippers, and went to use the other bathroom next door.

He held a toothbrush in his mouth, then wet his hands, and brushed the stray hairs from his forehead behind his head, his cold hands covering his burning ears.

He suddenly remembered reading somewhere that when things are awkward, as long as you’re not awkward, it’s others who end up feeling awkward.

Yu Sui had no idea whether Yan Xiu felt awkward or not, but he himself was a tangled mess. 

This was the worst. 

Yu Sui thought back with some regret—what on earth had possessed him to bring Yan Xiu home? 

The young master’s bad habits came one after another, forming a complete, lengthy, systematic chain of events. Awkwardness would inevitably lead to procrastination, obsessive-compulsive tendencies, and overall sluggishness. In the end, it was Yan Xiu who finished up and came over to call him down for breakfast. 

With breakfast pushed to this hour, lunchtime would arrive before they’d fully digested, so Aunt Sun hadn’t prepared anything too elaborate for them. 

Yan Xiu sat opposite Yu Sui, his gaze slightly lowered as he ate while skimming through an English morning newspaper. 

Very much like a seasoned old cadre. 

Yan Xiu and Yu Sui had used the same shower gel yesterday, and for the first time, he didn’t have that cool, herbal scent on him.

The table was long, and the two of them only occupied one corner. No one from the Yu family ate at this time, so the dining room was quiet. The warm light illuminated the area, creating a fleeting, peaceful atmosphere.

In this atmosphere, Yu Sui’s heart skipped a beat, and he hastily shifted his focus. He swallowed half an egg and picked up his phone to make a voice call to Yang Feiwen. 

No one answered—Yang Feiwen was still asleep. 

In Yu Sui’s dormitory, Yang Feiwen and his two companions overheard the cousin’s profession. Young people are naturally curious about things with an air of mystery and excitement, and Yu Sui had described his cousin as almost divine. The three of them became envious and repeatedly expressed their desire to have their fortune told by his cousins.

But Yu Sui would never actually invite his cousin over. Seeing that Yang Feiwen and the others were more enthusiastic than serious, he simply borrowed the easiest-to-use divination sticks to bring for them to play with. 

As for Yang Feiwen, he had insisted on coming over purely because he heard Yan Xiu was at Yu Sui’s house yesterday. 

With Yang Feiwen not showing up, Yu Sui lazily made his way upstairs to tidy up the mess from the night before. He hung his head listlessly, cleaning up with little enthusiasm. 

Yan Xiu had already done a rough cleanup last night, so there wasn’t much to tidy up now. Yu Sui threw everything into the toy box, his gaze falling on the fortune-telling container on the table.

He picked up the container and shook it, suddenly hearing Yan Xiu ask, “Didn’t you not want to cut your hair before?”

“…”

This topic came too abruptly. Yu Sui was startled and subconsciously scratched his head. Young people often have a lot of unspoken thoughts in their early years. When he first got his haircut, Yu Sui had spent the whole night thinking of excuses, but in the end, none of them were needed—Yan Xiu hadn’t even asked.

But now that so much time has passed, Yu Sui should have gotten his hair trimmed a second time. Hearing this question so suddenly, he couldn’t immediately recall what excuse he’d come up with.

Thinking back on that night of tossing and turning, Yu Sui found it almost amusing. Getting a haircut was such a normal thing—hair grows, you cut it; you didn’t have time before, but now you do. He was the one with something on his mind, not the whole world. 

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to,” Yu Sui snapped back to reality, glancing at Yan Xiu. “I just didn’t have time before, right?” 

Not knowing if Yan Xiu had accepted this answer, Yu Sui lazily fiddled with the fortune-telling container, raising his eyelids: “…Would you like to draw one first?”

As mentioned before, the Yan family didn’t believe in mysticism.

Yan Xiu leaned back against the headboard, his chin slightly raised. He was still wearing Yu Sui’s hoodie, probably bought at the same time as the one Yu Sui was currently wearing, only the color was different.

He glanced at the divination sticks for a couple of seconds, recalling the “auspicious” stick he had randomly pulled out during a moment of half-awareness. 

“Do you believe in this?” Yan Xiu asked. 

“No, I’m an atheist raised under the Five-Star Red Flag,” Yu Sui replied without hesitation. 

Yan Xiu: “…”

Yu Sui poured the sticks out and gathered them back together, before glancing at them quickly to put them back.

“It’s not really about believing or not. For me, it’s more of a tool to help with thinking,” Yu Sui pondered, choosing his words carefully. “This tube here holds about forty sticks. Yan Wuyan has another one with seventy or eighty, and there are even some with over a hundred. So the probability of drawing a particular result is roughly one in forty, one in seventy or eighty, or one in several hundred. Each outcome is chosen from within a predetermined range.” 

Yu Sui lowered his gaze. “Just like what I did earlier. I looked at all the sticks at once, then asked a question and drew one. The answer to that question must be among these forty some sticks, which doesn’t seem very logical. So why bother drawing lots? It’s just that when you can’t figure something out on your own, it might give you direction.”

 Just like I used to be. Yu Sui added silently in his heart, then stole a glance at Yan Xiu. 

He had simply fallen for someone, that was all.

The young master, who had never loved anyone in his life, was flustered. He didn’t have a strong desire to be with Yan Xiu; he just felt things were alright as they were.

He didn’t want to think about anything further, so he simply gave himself a pessimistic outlook, thus extinguishing any youthful ambition that might have been growing unchecked.

At least for now, he was still by Yan Xiu’s side. At least Yan Xiu was still his “elder brother from another family.” Yu Jingyuan always said that families were closely connected, with generations of ties that meant even across oceans, a single call would be answered—the same as a platonic relationship.

Yu Jingyuan had a tendency to prioritize friends over family in the past, a trait Yu Sui had always disliked, but now he was exceptionally grateful. Because Yan Xiu was there, because he had drawn an unbreakable bond between himself and Yan Xiu.

“So it’s still worth drawing,” Yu Sui concluded hastily, shaking the tube of sticks and asking quietly, “It’s free—no harm, no foul.” 

He regretted his long-winded explanation almost immediately, feeling as if he had been hinting at something. But the Yan family was particularly rational. He thought Yan Xiu wouldn’t pay any attention to this sort of thing, yet Yan Xiu nodded and said, “Alright.” 

Yu Sui let out a soft “ah” and handed over the tube awkwardly. “Then you shake it. 

Yan Xiu took the container, but didn’t shake it immediately. For a moment, he seemed about to say something, but his expression suggested he changed his answer: “I haven’t decided what to ask.”

Yu Sui was taken aback again, though it felt perfectly reasonable. Yan Xiu had always been highly disciplined, seemingly free of desires. If something couldn’t be resolved, he simply let it go. 

Yu Sui tried to think for him. “You can ask anything… like whether you’ll get a spot in G7?” 

Yan Xiu’s face clearly read “not interested” and “I already know I will.” 

“…” The young master couldn’t be bothered to entertain him further. He rested his hands behind his head and lay back on the bed. He lightly kicked Yan Xiu and stared at the lines of his profile. He had been about to say, “Then ask when the disciplinary committee will disband,” but suddenly changed his mind. 

Yu Sui’s lips twitched slightly: “How about asking about romance?”

“No.” Unexpectedly, Yan Xiu was even more decisive this time.

Yu Sui paused. “Why not?”

“There’s nothing to ask.”

“…” Yu Sui gave a soft “Oh,” and blinked, “Sorry, I forgot you’re a God. Gods don’t have emotions or desires.”

This time, it was Yan Xiu who kicked him, his gaze sweeping coldly over Yu Sui’s head 

Yu Sui turned his head, his face pushed by the bed, facing Yan Xiu. He clicked his tongue. “Why are you getting physical?”

For a long moment, Yan Xiu simply watched Yu Sui, as if trying to see through that perpetually deceptive face to uncover what lay hidden beneath 

It was in this quiet interval that Yang Feiwen woke up. Groggily rousing from sleep, he belatedly dialed Yu Sui’s number. 

Just as the ringtone began to play, Yu Sui heard Yan Xiu give the contained two firm shakes. No stick fell out, and instead, Yan Xiu calmly replaced the lid. 

“I’m not a God.”

Yan Xiu set the container down on the table, swung his long legs off the bed, and pulled Yu Sui up by the hand. Lowering his gaze, he said plainly, “I just don’t need to have my fortune told.” 

 

Author’s Note: Chapters three and four are like this. Hmm.