Singlehood Syndrome

Making eggplant dishes is more complicated than regular home-cooked dishes. If you don’t soften the eggplant by frying it at the beginning, it will be challenging to bring out the flavors later during the stir-frying process.

Xiang Mo enjoys eating eggplant but doesn’t cook it often himself. One reason is that using too much oil feels wasteful, and the other reason is that frying makes the dish high in calories.

However, the minced pork and eggplant dish that Du Chi makes doesn’t have these issues.

After seeing off the two students, Xiang Mo went to the kitchen on the second floor. Du Chi was wearing an apron and preparing the ingredients for cooking.

There were two aprons in the kitchen. One was Xiang Mo’s, with a hand-painted landscape on pure white fabric, and the other one belonged to Du Chi, with plain red and blue stripes and lacking any distinguishing features.

In these past few days, Du Chi had been wearing Xiang Mo’s apron while cooking, probably knowing that it looked more pleasing.

Forgetting his annoyance at being watched while cooking, Xiang Mo walked over to Du Chi and asked, looking at the eggplant on the countertop, “Can you avoid frying and still get the same effect?”

The chopped eggplant was sprinkled with a little salt, which seeped into the eggplant, making it release some moisture. The originally tight eggplant pieces became soft and droopy, indeed looking as if they had been fried.

“We still need to squeeze out the water,” Du Chi said, his hands moving skillfully as he chopped some scallions.

Xiang Mo, with nothing else to do, decided to lean on the countertop and watch Du Chi cook. Not long after, Sanmao suddenly came into the kitchen and stood up on his hind legs, placing his paws on Du Chi’s arm.

Du Chi looked at Sanmao on his left and then at Xiang Mo on his right, with a somewhat amused and somewhat helpless expression. “Teacher Xiang,” he said.

Only then did Xiang Mo remember their division of labor and said a bit awkwardly, “Sorry.”

Both man and dog were waiting for Du Chi to feed them, so it was no wonder he had that expression.

Not staying in the kitchen any longer, Xiang Mo went to the third-floor balcony with Sanmao for a walk. Since walking the dog was a daily routine, Xiang Mo didn’t mind taking Sanmao out for a stroll.

On the way, they ran into a neighbor walking their dog. The neighbor chatted with Xiang Mo, asking about Sanmao’s age. Xiang Mo was at a loss on how to answer, so he said, “This is a friend’s dog.”

Helping the neighbor walk the dog felt a bit strange, so he just said it was a friend’s.

When they returned home, the neighbor next door, Mr. Zhao, suddenly came to the art studio.

It turned out that Mr. Zhao’s elderly mother passed away, and he and his wife had to return to their hometown to handle the funeral arrangements. However, their daughter, Zhao Xiaoqiao, was preparing for the college entrance exam and couldn’t leave. Therefore, Mr. Zhao asked Xiang Mo to look after Zhao Xiaoqiao, take care of her meals, and prevent her from wandering around.

Seeing that it was not difficult, Xiang Mo agreed.

Zhao Xiaoqiao was a well-behaved girl, with excellent grades in school, and everyone in the neighborhood knew she was a top candidate for a prestigious university. The girl was quiet and gentle, with a simple ponytail. If Xiang Mo had a sister, he would wish she was like Zhao Xiaoqiao.

Mr. Zhao closed the noodle shop and left for his hometown, leaving a new member at Xiang Mo and Du Chi’s dining table.

“How’s my cooking?” in the somewhat silent dining room, Du Chi initiated the conversation.

Xiang Mo’s relationship with Zhao Xiaoqiao was quite good. If only the two of them were present, Zhao Xiaoqiao would probably be more relaxed. However, she was not familiar with Du Chi, so she kept her head down while eating, making the atmosphere a bit awkward.

“It’s good,” Xiang Mo took the baton and asked Zhao Xiaoqiao, “What do you think?”

The restrained girl finally lifted her head and said, “It’s delicious.”

“Your older brother Du Chi’s cooking.”

Perhaps not needing Xiang Mo’s help, Du Chi managed to strike up a conversation with Zhao Xiaoqiao about their high school life and shared interests. Now, Xiang Mo became the one who couldn’t interject in the conversation.

After the meal, Zhao Xiaoqiao took the initiative to clean up the kitchen, saving Xiang Mo a lot of trouble.

Remembering Mr. Zhao’s request before leaving the kitchen, Xiang Mo asked Zhao Xiaoqiao, “Do you need to do your homework here later?”

“Yes,” Zhao Xiaoqiao said, “My dad might video call to check on me.”

Mr. Zhao entrusted Xiang Mo to look after Zhao Xiaoqiao while she did her homework, not to keep an eye on her all the time, but to check in more often to prevent her from using her phone.

Xiang Mo found it difficult to understand. With Zhao Xiaoqiao being so outstanding, why would Mr. Zhao be so strict with her?

“I haven’t been a parent, so I can’t understand the worries of being one,” thought Xiang Mo. Nevertheless, he agreed to watch over Zhao Xiaoqiao for a while. He initially intended to let her handle things on her own, but he was surprised to see how obedient she was, finishing up in the kitchen and then sitting down to do her homework at the dining table.

As May came, the weather gradually became hot, and annoying mosquitoes started to become active.

Feeling sorry for Zhao Xiaoqiao being alone in the kitchen, Xiang Mo decided to bring the fan from his room to help her. However, he soon realized that the absence of airflow in the room made the fan essential, as the heat was stifling.

Although turning on the air conditioning was an option, it wasn’t quite that hot yet, and they didn’t want to resort to it at this point. After hesitating for a moment, Xiang Mo put on his flip-flops and went to the third-floor balcony to catch some fresh air.

At around 7 or 8 in the evening, the sky had already begun to darken, although the lingering warmth of the setting sun could still be felt in the air. The gentle night breeze outside felt much more comfortable than the stuffiness in the room.

As Xiang Mo entered the balcony, he spotted Du Chi sitting on a reclining chair with a can of beer in his hand. Sanmao lay lazily at his feet, and the scene of the two of them in the evening sun looked quite harmonious.

“Getting some fresh air?” Du Chi noticed Xiang Mo’s footsteps and turned to ask.

“Yeah,” Xiang Mo sat down on another reclining chair next to Du Chi, “It’s a bit stuffy inside.”

“Definitely,” Du Chi shook the beer can in his hand, “Want some beer?”

Xiang Mo didn’t usually drink much. His alcohol tolerance was quite low, and half a can of beer would make his face turn red. However, on this hot and humid evening, a chilled drink seemed appealing.

“Is it in the fridge?” Xiang Mo inquired.

Du Chi only had one can of beer at hand, and he had already drunk most of it. Xiang Mo didn’t want Du Chi to go out of his way to get him a beer.

“In my room.”

Du Chi disappeared into his room and returned with two frozen cans of beer.

“Your room has a mini-fridge?” Xiang Mo took the beer from Du Chi, popped the tab open, and took a sip.

The cold sensation refreshed him, dispelling the remaining warmth in the air.

“Is it okay?” Du Chi opened a new can of beer and offered it to Xiang Mo.

Xiang Mo raised his beer can in agreement and clinked it against Du Chi’s. The two of them simultaneously took a gulp of beer.

As the last rays of the setting sun vanished, the sky turned completely dark.

As the alcohol started to take effect, Xiang Mo felt his mind lightening up, almost floating on clouds, pleasantly tipsy.

Putting down the half-empty beer can, Xiang Mo turned to look at Du Chi beside him and said, “Can I teach the students how to draw muscle structures in this weekend’s sketch class?”

“Hmm?” The topic seemed a bit sudden, and Du Chi met Xiang Mo’s gaze, slowly realizing what he meant, “Using me as a model?”

“Yes,” Xiang Mo nodded, “You just have to take off your clothes, and I’ll use a marker to outline the muscle lines on your body as a demonstration for the students.”

It might seem like an unreasonable request on a normal day, but perhaps because of the mood at the moment, Xiang Mo didn’t feel anything was wrong with suggesting it.

“How would you demonstrate?” Du Chi asked.

“I’ll use a marker to outline the muscle lines on your body,” Xiang Mo explained, “Then I’ll explain to the students which muscle is which and how to draw them naturally. The marker can be washed off afterward.”

“Are you saying you want to draw on my body?” Du Chi seemed a bit hesitant about the idea.

It wasn’t really drawing; it was just marking the boundaries of each muscle, explaining to the students which muscles were which and how to draw them naturally. It was a fairly common teaching method in sketching classes. Nevertheless, from Du Chi’s tone, he didn’t seem too keen on the idea.

“Is it okay with you?” Xiang Mo raised the beer can again, thinking that if Du Chi wasn’t comfortable with the idea, then they could forget about it.

“What if I have a reaction?” Du Chi suddenly asked.

Cough, cough!

Startled by the unexpected question, Xiang Mo wiped off the beer from his lips with the back of his hand and stared at Du Chi, asking, “Can’t you control yourself a bit?”

Du Chi chuckled, lifted the beer can, and took a big gulp, making his words muffled, “I’ve been holding back for too long.”

As they spoke, Sanmao suddenly climbed up from the floor and ran to the edge of the balcony. He leaned over the railing and emitted a low growl, alerting them to something happening downstairs.

“Sanmao.” Du Chi called out.

Sanmao always became vigilant whenever a stranger appeared near the house. Xiang Mo figured there must be someone passing by downstairs, but since he felt like moving around a bit, he walked over to Sanmao’s side, casually resting his elbow on the railing as he looked down with the dog.

What they saw was quite surprising.

Down below, where Zhao Xiaoqiao should have been doing her homework, she was with a boy in school uniform.
The location was a small alley behind the old house, rarely frequented by people.

Perhaps Xiang Mo’s strange behavior of peering down caught Du Chi’s attention, and he also came over to the balcony. As soon as he arrived, the two people downstairs embraced each other and started kissing.

Xiang Mo raised an eyebrow, feeling somewhat taken aback.

“Hmm.” Du Chi’s expression also showed surprise, “I didn’t expect that.”

Teenage romance was not encouraged, but the innocence and purity of such feelings were truly rare. Especially after entering society, where relationships became entangled with materialism, the pure love of youth seemed like a bygone era, leaving people with a sense of regret and nostalgia.

“Teacher Xiang,” Du Chi suddenly spoke.

He turned his gaze away from downstairs, looking at Xiang Mo, and asked, “When was your first kiss?”

Xiang Mo instinctively tried to recall, but as his eyes roamed over Du Chi’s lips, he inexplicably became entranced.
Du Chi’s lip contour was distinct, forming a perfect M-shape. The two vertical lines on his philtrum were prominent, adding a three-dimensional quality to his face. His lower lip was slightly thicker than the upper one, and Xiang Mo couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to bite it.

“Xiang Mo?” Du Chi slightly parted his lips, leaning towards him, “Do you like kissing?”

Having only had one beer, he shouldn’t be drunk.

As Xiang Mo gazed at Du Chi’s lips, his mind sent out danger signals repeatedly.

If he wasn’t mistaken, it seemed like Du Chi wanted to kiss him—

Xiang Mo: Am I mistaken?

Du Chi: You guess.