Chapter 7#

Chapter 7#

Last time, we were talking about eating.

Zhang Xingchuan was a terrible cook.

When he persuaded Tan Xiao to stay, he said he would cook. In fact, his cooking skills were only slightly better than his haircutting skills.

What? You’re asking how he knows how to cut hair? He doesn’t know how to cut hair at all, which is to say the cooking skills he possesses are also pitifully few.

The top-student-turned-CEO’s execution was still relatively passing. Following recipes he found online, he could manage to cook ingredients as instructed and put in all the required seasonings. The process was entirely correct, but the result had neither color, aroma, nor taste.

Fortunately, Tan Xiao happened to be a person with very little interest in food. Especially since he was a guest, he ate whatever the host gave him, wasn’t picky at all, and didn’t leave any leftovers.

The two of them played games until evening. Zhang Xingchuan followed a recipe and made two plates of seafood risotto. He was even smug while plating in the kitchen—a small risotto was a piece of cake.

When he brought it out, he gave one plate to Tan Xiao and one to himself. He took a spoonful and tasted it… it was so bad the CEO wanted to take an oxygen hit.

Tan Xiao ate his plate of risotto completely clean.

Zhang Xingchuan a bit suspected whether this “zaizai” (kid)’s sense of taste was malfunctioning.

Tan Xiao didn’t dislike good food; he just didn’t care that much about the taste for daily meals.

Moreover, Zhang Xingchuan cooking with an apron on while Tan Xiao sat at the dining table waiting for the meal greatly satisfied a certain spiritual need of Tan Xiao’s. This scene felt so much like home. The risotto was indeed terrible, but the atmosphere was priceless.

He had liked Zhang Xingchuan as a person to begin with, and now some emotional projection had been added to his original liking. In private, Zhang Xingchuan was truly a cute and gentle older brother next door.

The older brother’s cooking was also really terrible, so terrible.

In the evening, the two continued playing games.

Zhang Xingchuan’s phone was placed to one side. Messages came in from time to time, but he only took a casual look. Today, all the incoming and outgoing messages were New Year greetings, which could be replied to or not, and those that needed a reply weren’t urgent.

Once in the middle, a notification message came in, and he looked again.

Tan Xiao noticed that this time his gaze stayed on the screen a bit longer than with other messages.

“Is it an important message?” Tan Xiao asked. “Do you need to reply?”

Zhang Xingchuan said, “My dad.”

Asking if anything was wrong and wanting to make a video call.

In the evening, they stopped playing Zelda on their own and switched to It Takes Two to play together.

Tan Xiao said, “Then you reply first, I’ll wait for you.”

Zhang Xingchuan guessed that his father must have heard from Ms. Jiang about him bringing a boy home and wanted to criticize his “problematic lifestyle” in a video call. He didn’t really want to deal with the old man.

After thinking about it, it was the New Year after all. He still said to Tan Xiao, " I’ll go return a call. Play by yourself for a bit."

Tan Xiao said, “Okay.”

Zhang Xingchuan went to the next room to make the call.

The soundproofing of this house was quite good. Tan Xiao played on his phone quietly and could only vaguely hear the sound of Zhang Xingchuan talking to someone.

Zhang Xingchuan rarely spoke loudly, loved to laugh, and didn’t have much of a temper, like an emotionally stable capybara.

Who would have thought that after a few minutes, Tan Xiao suddenly heard the “capybara” next door start arguing with someone.

Eh? Zhang Xingchuan started arguing with his father?

Tan Xiao pricked up his ears. It definitely wasn’t for gossip; he just wanted to hear how a capybara argues.

Zhang Xingchuan was on a video call with his father. The audio from the video was already quite loud, and since the father and son were having a shouting match, the volume was turned up even more.

“Don’t think you’re so great just because you have some money. People who can’t live their own lives well will be a burden to the country in the future!”

“Then did you immigrate to Australia just to avoid being a burden to the country?”

“It’s none of your business!”

“Then stay out of my business, too.”

“Have I meddled in your business these past few years? You’re already thirty-six and haven’t started a family. Have I said a word?”

“You’re saying it right now.”

“I can’t even be bothered to say it. That high school classmate of yours has already gotten married and had children in the US. There’s no longer any possibility between you…”

The voice stopped abruptly. Zhang Xingchuan had hung up the video call.

Tan Xiao: God above, what did I just hear?

A female classmate who’s married and has children overseas? The CEO really has such a “white moonlight”?

A moment later, Zhang Xingchuan returned, picked up the controller, and continued playing the game.

“Are you okay?” Tan Xiao asked. “I didn’t listen on purpose, but you and your dad were shouting quite loudly.”

“He’s crazy,” Zhang Xingchuan said. “The feng shui in Melbourne is bad.”

Tan Xiao quietly observed his expression. After having his “sore spot” ruthlessly poked by his father, he only made a snide remark, seemingly without any feelings of sadness or resentment.

Tan Xiao, of course, had never had a “white moonlight” and had only seen them in movies and melodramatic novels. So, was Zhang Xingchuan’s behavior… correct?

During the subsequent gaming process, Tan Xiao began to feel absent-minded. He was very curious about Zhang Xingchuan’s mental state, that he could still leisurely play games here.

“Why do you keep looking at me?” Zhang Xingchuan noticed and asked strangely, “What’s on my face?”

“…” Tan Xiao said, “Stunning beauty.”

Zhang Xingchuan said, “You little flatterer.”

Tan Xiao said, “Brother Xingchuan, you’re almost beaming. Dare you say you don’t like me praising you like this?”

Zhang Xingchuan laughed, and his mood brightened up.

He had had an argument with the old man. It wasn’t exactly anger, but he was indeed somewhat annoyed.

The old man had launched an output, questioning if he had found a male college student as a lover.

He had done it on purpose to begin with and didn’t offer any explanation, only saying, “I know what I’m doing.”

The old man launched another output, finding fault from tricky angles.

Zhang Xingchuan had understood his father’s behavior logic a long time ago. Part of the reason for his father’s insistence on immigrating was also to escape, unable to accept the loss of his social status in China and the displacement of his position as head of the family; the watershed event was his retirement.

Zhang Xingchuan grew up with encouraging education and matured into a healthy-minded and outstanding university student, overseas student, programmer, entrepreneur, and private businessman. By his thirties, he had become a sunny and happy CEO. However, once his old father retired, his temperament changed drastically, and he suddenly began to “PUA” him for no reason.

Up to this point, it went in one ear and out the other for Zhang Xingchuan; he just listened and let it go, trying his best not to get angry on the first day of the New Year.

The old man just had to mention that married female classmate. It was something from so many years ago. Zhang Xingchuan had told them long ago that it was just groundless nonsense, yet he still had to bring it up.

Compared to the hideous old man, the “zaizai” Tan Xiao was truly incredibly cute.

Zhang Xingchuan thought to himself that if he had a child in the future, he must find a way to raise them like Tan Xiao—smart, cute, and with a good personality. If this were truly his own kid, and he wanted to be a “salted fish,” he would definitely give everything to make him the happiest salted fish.

They played until almost eleven o’clock. Zhang Xingchuan dropped the controller and said, “Time for bed. Let’s stop playing with zaizai for today.”

The generally peaceful first day of the New Year passed. On the morning of the second day, Tan Xiao slept in a bit. It was already past nine when he woke up. He felt quite embarrassed about sleeping in while being a guest. After quickly washing up and coming out, he saw Zhang Xingchuan just about to go out, and for once, he wasn’t in his “imitation civil servant” OOTD but was wearing a tracksuit.

“I thought you were going to sleep until noon,” Zhang Xingchuan said. “I’m planning to go out for a run.”

Tan Xiao said, “Then I’ll go too. I played games all day yesterday; I need some fresh air.”

Zhang Xingchuan found a tracksuit that he had bought but never worn, although it had been washed, and gave it to Tan Xiao.

They were similar in height, though Zhang Xingchuan’s shoulders were broader. His formal shirts wouldn’t suit Tan Xiao—they’d be too big—but a tracksuit didn’t have that problem.

Tan Xiao went to change his clothes.

Zhang Xingchuan stood at the entrance, waiting for Tan Xiao while looking at his phone. Hearing someone come out, he moved his eyes from the phone and looked Tan Xiao up and down.

At his core, he was still a straight-male programmer. His autumn and winter private clothes were mostly dark-colored, and his tracksuits were also all black. He didn’t feel anything when wearing them himself, but when Tan Xiao wore them—although he still looked good, since Tan Xiao would look good even in a plastic bag—the color was still dull and couldn’t fully highlight Tan Xiao’s vibrant aura.

Tan Xiao also looked at Zhang Xingchuan. When Zhang Xingchuan wore a tracksuit, he didn’t look like an entrepreneur at all; he looked like a track athlete—narrow hips and long legs—one who clearly knew how to run.

Tan Xiao joked, “This looks like a couple’s outfit.”

Zhang Xingchuan put away his phone and said solemnly, “Then why couldn’t it be a parent-child outfit?”

“Don’t take advantage of me.” Tan Xiao made a hand-blade motion as if to hit him, but he wasn’t actually angry.

He was very distant from his biological father in Switzerland. That man was cunning, mean, and boring—not even half as good as Brother Xingchuan.

Zhang Xingchuan’s home was very close to the Olympic Forest Park, a running mecca.

The CEO himself was a running enthusiast. When there were marathon events in the local or nearby cities while he was in school, he would go and run if he had time. Later, when he was busy with work, he also kept up with fitness and exercise, though he always felt that using gym equipment wasn’t as physically and mentally refreshing as running.

He originally thought Tan Xiao would find it boring and intended to run with him for a while, then go home when Tan Xiao didn’t want to run anymore, or just breathe some fresh air and chat in the park.

To his surprise, Tan Xiao was very good at running. His rhythm was good, his limbs and breathing were very scientific, and his running form was quite beautiful. He easily finished the five-kilometer loop around the lake in the South Park with Zhang Xingchuan.

The two took a short break by the lake and drank some water.

“Why were you pretending to be a rookie when we just left?” Zhang Xingchuan patted Tan Xiao’s back. The touch was slightly damp, and there was also heat radiating from his body, which made Zhang Xingchuan pause. He immediately withdrew his hand and continued, “You’re clearly an experienced runner.”

Tan Xiao had also seen that Zhang Xingchuan had looked down on him at first, so he had cooperated and pretended to know nothing about running, remaining silent throughout the five-kilometer lake loop just for this moment.

“I’ve participated in two Tsinghua campus marathons,” Tan Xiao said.

No wonder “slap-in-the-face” dramas have so many viewers; this was truly satisfying.

Tan Xiao said coolly and pretentiously, “One half-marathon and one full marathon. I got the bronze medal for the half-marathon in my sophomore year, and for the full marathon in my first year of graduate school, I was sixth.”

Zhang Xingchuan marveled cooperatively: “I’ve been disrespectful.”

Tan Xiao turned his face to look at the lake view, afraid he would accidentally laugh. That would be too much like a “small person” who had achieved his goal.

“I only did my undergraduate degree at Tsinghua and only participated in the campus marathon once,” Zhang Xingchuan said. “For the 2010 full marathon men’s group, I was the champion.”

“…” Tan Xiao almost lost his composure. He pretended not to hear and took off running.

Having slightly hurt Tan Xiao’s feelings, Zhang Xingchuan decided to spare his taste buds.

After returning from the park and showering and changing clothes, Zhang Xingchuan called Tan Xiao to go out and eat a meal fit for a human.