UCTOOT CH150

The weather was clear and bright that day, sunlight streaming through the windows as a pure white contrail cut across the azure sky.

It happened to be a Sunday, only a few days into Shi Shu’s new semester.

During the Lunar New Year, Xie Wuzhi had stayed at his home from New Year’s Eve through the third day of the first lunar month. Afterward, Shi Shu began tagging along with his parents to visit relatives, while Xie Wuzhi flew back to Beijing, leaving them in an online long-distance romance for a while.

Every few days, Xie Wuzhi would make the trip over, often in the dead of night, braving rain and snow, carrying a layer of chill on his skin upon arrival.

Bo Mo and Father Shi had grown accustomed to this boyfriend of Shi Shu’s, greeting him naturally whenever they saw him in the morning.

When the new semester finally started, Xie Wuzhi came to drive Shi Shu back to campus.

Yet that very evening, Shi Shu went out for dinner with his roommates Liang Yucai and Yao Wenbo, not returning to Xie Wuzhi’s place until eight or nine at night.

Sometime in the middle of the night, Shi Shu suddenly had a dream.

He dreamed of Liushui Nunnery. Back when Xie Wuzhi had just become an advisor to the Prince, there had been a few remarkably leisurely days. Xie Wuzhi would pour clear tea and sit beneath the veranda reading, while Shi Shu scampered all over the melon patches. But once, after crouching down to play with Laifu, his head suddenly spun when he stood up.

He nearly took a tumble.

Realizing Shi Shu’s anemia had yet to improve, on top of reading, Xie Wuzhi decided to properly formulate daily meal plans.

Back then, Xie Wuzhi was merely a minor advisor with little sway, and young to boot, so every day he took Shi Shu to the market for groceries.

Ordinarily, a scholar shopping for groceries in person would appear shabby and low-class, inviting scorn. Later, once Xie Wuzhi attained high status, he quickly hired pages and ceased meddling in the kitchen. But during that period, having just returned to secular life from Xiangnan Temple and scraping by in humble poverty with his younger brother, going out to buy groceries was not entirely out of place.

Novel tunes and delicate laughter drifted from bustling pleasure quarters, while flutes and strings tuned in teahouses and wine taverns. Shi Shu followed behind him step for step. Xie Wuzhi wore austere, plain robes, dignified and aloof; Shi Shu looked no more distinguished, browsing chickens, ducks, and geese at the market, weighing cuts of pork, and picking up bok choy to check for crisp freshness.

Shi Shu could say with absolute certainty: if Xie Wuzhi wanted to win someone over, no one on earth could match him.

Because Xie Wuzhi never slacked off for a single second, capable of playing a warm, attentive, caring companion with flawless precision, completely wrapping the other person around his finger.

The Buddha’s hand and the spider’s thread.

The Buddha lowers a spider’s thread to rescue a man, only for him to plummet back into the sea of suffering by his own doing.¹

Had genuine love not blossomed between them, fostering dependence under his care only to be coldly cast aside, falling into despair and ruin would have been the fate of anyone who crossed Xie Wuzhi’s path.

During that period, Xie Wuzhi had been lowering that very spider’s thread to Shi Shu.

Carrying groceries and meat back to the small courtyard at Liushui Nunnery, washing them in ancient well water, he diced and simmered braised pork belly, clear stewed pigeon soup, braised ribs, braised pork trotters, stir-fried bok choy, and steamed egg custard. Shi Shu often tended the stove fire beside him, watching in astonishment as Xie Wuzhi chopped and cooked.

He formulated a weekly nutritional meal plan, followed without fail every day.

When Shi Shu woke in the morning, breakfast was ready.

After spending the morning playing with Laifu, lunch was ready, followed by a hearty, wholesome, delicious dinner at night.

Even to this day, Shi Shu fondly remembered Xie Wuzhi’s cooking. Once he had made yam and pork rib soup, and the broth was insanely delicious: light and clean, yet savory with the rich aroma of meat and a lingering hint of sweetness.

Waking from this dream in the middle of the night, Shi Shu’s very first words were: “…For lunch, I want yam stewed with ribs.”

Having just stepped off the treadmill and showered, Xie Wuzhi was drying his damp hair with a towel. Hearing that, he replied, “Alright.”

“What else do you want to eat?”

Shi Shu: “A lot… braised pork trotters with that dipping sauce you used to make. Meatballs, stir-fried zucchini, shredded chicken salad…”

Xie Wuzhi: “I’ll make them for you.”

Shi Shu vaulted upright in bed: “Awesome!”

After breakfast, Xie Wuzhi drove him to the supermarket. Shi Shu trailed behind him asking about different vegetables, while Xie Wuzhi picked up a packaged tray of seafood to check the origin.

Setting down a bunch of celery, Shi Shu looked up at his posture. Whether in work or in life, he approached everything with meticulous gravity.

Sifting through leafy greens, Shi Shu asked, “Xie Wuzhi, why are you so patient when you cook?”

Placing the seafood into the shopping cart, Xie Wuzhi said, “Every human must navigate food, clothing, shelter, and transport. If one is temporarily spared the worries of daily meals, it is likely because their mother is looking after them.”

“For me, cooking restores a sense of order to life.”

Shi Shu had heard him say that before: “Don’t you get tired of cooking every day?”

Xie Wuzhi: “Cooking for you, I never tire of it.”

“Thank you, Brother Xie! I’ll eat everything you make clean, too.” Shi Shu tossed onions into the cart.

As he looked around, Xie Wuzhi remarked, “When I stayed at your place, didn’t you buy breakfast for me every morning as well?”

Put like that, Shi Shu remembered. Over the winter break, Xie Wuzhi had usually arrived in the dead of night, flying thousands of miles straight from work, thoroughly drained, so he tended to wake later in the mornings.

Meanwhile, on vacation, Shi Shu was hauled out of bed every morning by his dad for mountain hikes, morning jogs, street walks, and park strolls: “Young people need fresh air and sunlight!”

Ten thousand steps on WeChat by eight in the morning!

On the walk home, Shi Shu would pick up breakfast for Xie Wuzhi: sometimes sweet fermented rice wine, hot dry noodles, dumplings, or rice vermicelli; sometimes a bit of everything. Back in the room, he would crouch beside the bed to wake him for breakfast.

Usually Shi Shu called him softly first: “Xie Wuzhi.”

Waking up, Xie Wuzhi would take Shi Shu’s hand and press it against his cheek.

Thinking of that, Shi Shu zoned out for a second.

Once you actually dated him, Xie Wuzhi was quite high-maintenance in his emotional needs.

A bit needy, inventing jealousy out of thin air, starving for affection.

At the thought, Shi Shu’s brow softened into a fond smile, tossing a carton of tomatoes into the cart.

Whatever. He loved him for who he was, flaws and all.

Back home, Xie Wuzhi cooked while Shi Shu bustled around assisting him, the kitchen counters lined with prepped meats and vegetables.

As Shi Shu helped rinse bowls and tidy up, his phone chimed. It was Du Zihan, asking to hang out that afternoon. Over winter break, Du Zihan had spent only a few days around New Year’s at home, spending the rest in his university lab, and now wanted to come over to Beijing Sport to visit Shi Shu.

Shi Shu agreed to meet him at the sports field. By noon, a sumptuous feast covered the table. Shi Shu called his parents, who grumbled about why he hadn’t stayed home through today before heading back to campus.

Shi Shu: “It’s fine, it’s fine! I’ll be back home again next weekend.”

Bo Mo said, “Put whatever you can’t finish in the fridge.”

Shi Shu: “I know, I know, I know.”

“The package your dad sent arrived too, remember to pick it up. Fresh fruit; share it with Xiao Xie, and make sure to wash it twice.”

“Yes, yes, yes, got it.”

Only then did they hang up.

Sunlight bathed the campus sports field at Beijing Sport. Winter was showing signs of receding, the sun warming their backs.

Cheers and the sharp clatter of competitive games drifted from behind the chain-link fencing as students clustered across the courts, scattered applause breaking out now and then.

Wearing a down jacket over a plaid button-up, Du Zihan spotted Shi Shu and waved frantically: “Over here!”

Holding badminton rackets, Shi Shu asked, “Is it really that cold? Wearing a down jacket under broad daylight?”

Du Zihan: “Don’t ask. Spending the whole winter break cooped up in the lab drained my vitality.”

Glancing behind Shi Shu, he spotted Xie Wuzhi: “Holy crap, your guy came too?”

Unzipping the racket bag, Shi Shu handed him one: “We live in a society ruled by law now. Don’t be scared.”

Du Zihan retreated warily, putting distance between them until he reached the opposite side of the court line.

While Shi Shu played, Xie Wuzhi sat on the bleachers not far away, where crowds lounged basking in the early spring sun.

Clean white sunlight washed over everyone’s shoulders.

A foreign couple sat nearby, striking up a conversation with him; wearing sunglasses, Xie Wuzhi watched Shi Shu play while conversing in calm, measured tones.

Du Zihan returned a shot: “Xiao Shu-bao, I’ve been pondering something.”

Effortlessly volleying it back, Shi Shu glanced over at Xie Wuzhi’s spot, feeling at ease.

Returning Zihan’s shot, he asked, “What are you pondering?”

Du Zihan: “Why do I feel like my game has improved? I remember whenever I played with friends before, I was always the one chasing down missed shuttles, unable to keep a rally going for more than two strokes.”

Shi Shu curled his lips: “So what are you implying?”

Du Zihan: “Are you deliberately aiming the shuttlecock right into my racket?”

The shuttlecock floated gently over the white line, hovering softly in the air.

Shi Shu: “I wouldn’t say that.”

Du Zihan grinned: “You look way too relaxed though! Can you play seriously? And stop staring at your boyfriend every two seconds.”

Shi Shu kept volleying while glancing back at Xie Wuzhi.

Truth be told, Du Zihan only knew Shi Shu was an athletic major, with little grasp of his actual level.

After a rally of over a dozen strokes, Du Zihan finally botched a return.

“Shi Shu, your skill level seems pretty neck-and-neck with mine.”

Twirling the racket in his palm, Shi Shu smiled: “You asked me to get serious?”

“Bring it on, bring it on!” Du Zihan was buzzing with excitement.

Thinking back to a few days ago, curious about why Du Zihan spent every day in the lab, Shi Shu had asked him to send over an aerospace vehicle blueprint and orbital equations. After staring at it for a few seconds, Shi Shu had said:

“Why is there so much English?”

Du Zihan: “…”

Then he had roared with laughter: “Shi Shu, you… HAHAHAHAHA!”

When Shi Shu had caught on: “…………”

Now, flicking the returning shuttlecock over the net, Shi Shu arched a brow: “You asked for it.”

Du Zihan: “I did, I did! Bring it!”

Serving it over, Du Zihan scrambled to return it: “Not that tough after all—”

Before the words left his mouth, Shi Shu vaulted into the air. Before Du Zihan could even swing, the shuttle slammed onto his side of the court.

“? Wait a second, I spaced out just now.”

“Not bad, not bad! Again!”

The next point came just as blindingly fast. Shi Shu struck it effortlessly without apparent exertion, but the moment Du Zihan lunged forward, the shuttlecock drilled into the court like an arrow.

“???” Du Zihan stopped, at a loss for words.

Shi Shu broke into laughter: “Zihan, even Laifu plays better than you.”

Du Zihan: “Again!”

On the court, Du Zihan descended into an endless nightmare of fetching shuttles. Every time he sent one across, Shi Shu merely flicked his wrist; the shuttle traveled at lethal speed, homing ruthlessly into unreachable corners before Du Zihan could react.

Getting demolished, Du Zihan chuckled helplessly while serving short, then deep, with identical results. On the final point:

Shi Shu leaped straight from the court, his crisp white T-shirt riding up to reveal a lean waist, his tall, athletic frame drawing taut as a bow as he smashed the shuttle down!

The feathers streaked through the air. Du Zihan yelled, “Holy shit! Real-life Prince of Tennis or what?!” Stunned by the sheer coolness of the shot, he tossed his racket aside, laughing hysterically: “I yield, I yield! Xiao Shu-bao, take it easy on me!”

Shi Shu switched back to geriatric rally mode. A moment later, his roommates arrived at the field as well.

Shi Shu introduced Liang Yucai to Du Zihan: “You guys play, I’m going to take a breather.”

Beads of sweat glinted on his fair forehead. Handing off the racket, he took the stairs two at a time, heading toward where Xie Wuzhi was seated.

The sunlight was bright and gentle, warming his skin like a soft caress. Having just finished a phone call, Xie Wuzhi’s eyes were fixed on Shi Shu, having taken in every second of the action on the court.

Sitting down beside him, Shi Shu took the mineral water bottle Xie Wuzhi had already uncapped for him. Out of nowhere, he heard him murmur: “You two look quite sweet together.”

“…………” Shi Shu nearly choked on his water.

“I had no idea you were so adept at coaxing friends into high spirits.”

Reaching out, Shi Shu found his hand and clasped his fingers: “Alright, out with it. How do you want me to coax you?”

Basking in the warm sun, Xie Wuzhi half-narrowed his eyes. A moment later, he drew a small gift box from inside his coat, opened it to reveal a ring, and slipped it onto Shi Shu’s ring finger: “Happy birthday. This is our first winter back home, and your first birthday in spring.”

The silver band on his finger bore etched patterns.

Shi Shu interlocked their fingers, palms burning warm.

Lively clamor resonated across the field. After two rounds against Liang Yucai, Du Zihan stood dumbfounded, finally exclaiming: “Wait, bro, are you on the national team?!” The surrounding roommates dissolved into laughter beneath the bright, cloudless sky.

The very sun that had once shone over ancient temple eaves now illuminated the treetops beside the running track. In a fleeting trance, memories flickered past: blizzard nights, neighing warhorses, wind chimes swaying beneath eaves, journeying behind a pack donkey, narrow mountain passes.

Those four years held blooming blossoms as well as bitter, freezing winters. They had been so brave; hence, a boundless future belonged to them.

Shi Shu slipped the matching ring onto Xie Wuzhi’s finger: “Yeah.”

The past, the present, the future.

Ever upward, ever forward.

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1. Reference to Ryūnosuke Akutagawa’s The Spider’s Thread. ↩︎