Chapter 03 – Registration

He Rong said he would return to the country a week later, but it took him ten days to sort things out. On the day he returned, it was noon. As soon as he opened the door, he saw Xiang Ning holding a small pot, eating instant noodles. He must have just heard the noise, as he stared at He Rong like a kitten caught stealing food.

He Rong pretended not to notice, changed his shoes, and then looked again. Xiang Ning stood by the entrance, his face flushed, with soup still hanging from the corner of his mouth.

“How are you eating instant noodles? Where’s Auntie?” He Rong tugged at his tie and asked.

Xiang Ning lowered his head and typed, “Auntie had to go back home because of a family emergency.”

He Rong nodded, acknowledging the information, and walked towards the kitchen. Xiang Ning followed closely, clutching the hem of his shirt, rubbing it nervously.

He Rong’s expression darkened when he saw several instant noodle wrappers in the trash bin.

Seeing He Rong stop, Xiang Ning curiously poked his head out, looking around but not understanding what He Rong was looking at, feeling puzzled.

“How long has Auntie been gone?” He Rong asked.

Xiang Ning thought for a moment, then raised his hand and showed five fingers.

He Rong didn’t say anything, opened the fridge, picked out some vegetables, and took off his suit jacket.

Seeing He Rong about to cook, Xiang Ning, surprised, hesitantly typed, “Do you need help?”

He Rong shook his head and said, “Go play outside.”

Considering they weren’t very familiar, Xiang Ning, fearing awkwardness, nodded and obediently went out.

Back in the room, his sheet music was scattered on the bed. Because He Rong hadn’t returned, all his things were piled in this bedroom. Fortunately, the room was large enough, but he had no desk, so the sheet music was haphazardly thrown on the bed.

He went over to tidy the bed, planning to take a nap.

The sunlight was perfect, the linen curtains blocking most of it, allowing only a gentle light to filter through, neither glaring nor overly dim.

Drowsily, Xiang Ning heard someone calling him. He struggled to open his eyes, feeling a bit annoyed: he was just about to fall asleep, who was calling him now?

When he saw He Rong’s face, he snapped awake.

He Rong seemed to smile and asked, “Want to come down for dinner?”

The person on the bed was dazed and didn’t react, not expecting there to be a portion for him.

He Rong didn’t wait for an answer and turned around, “Eat a bit more, you didn’t eat much earlier.”

Xiang Ning had no choice but to slip on his slippers and follow him downstairs.

On the table were three dishes: stir-fried shrimp, garlic broccoli, and a plate of green pepper and meat strips.

Xiang Ning’s surprise was evident on his face. He was already surprised that He Rong could cook, but he didn’t expect the dishes to look so good. He hesitantly sat down, instinctively looking up at He Rong.

He Rong turned to get chopsticks, “Eat.”

Xiang Ning tried the stir-fried shrimp closest to him and was truly stunned. The shrimp was fresh and tender, perhaps with the addition of white nuts, giving it a slight sweetness. The sauce coated the shrimp, sliding down his throat, leaving a refreshing taste on his tongue.

He couldn’t resist taking another piece.

He Rong didn’t mind; he was hungry from rushing back and hadn’t eaten yet.

Xiang Ning only ate a little before putting down his chopsticks.

After He Rong finished, Xiang Ning pointed at the table and then at himself, indicating he would clean up. He Rong didn’t hesitate, nodding:

“Thanks, there’s a dishwasher in the kitchen, just tidy up a bit.”

The first day of living with He Rong passed quietly.

The next morning, Xiang Ning felt a bit disoriented. He had been staying here for a few days, but sometimes he still instinctively thought he was in the small rental apartment until his consciousness gradually cleared, reminding him he was at He Rong’s house.

He went downstairs, and the house was empty. On the dining table was a pot of porridge, a steamer of buns, and a few side dishes, still warm. Xiang Ning found a note from He Rong on the table:

“Reheat if it’s cold.”

The porridge wasn’t cold, so Xiang Ning didn’t reheat it. The buns were filled with mushrooms and vegetables, probably bought from outside, with a slightly thick skin.

He ate a few bites and then fell into a daze: he didn’t know how to thank He Rong.

He had given him a place to stay while he was looking for a house, offered to pay him to redeem his house, and now he was cooking for him.

Xiang Ning suddenly felt a bit like crying, just a little bit.

After eating and tidying the table, Xiang Ning returned to his room. The room was spacious, filled with sunlight, looking warm and cozy.

He went over and sat on the bay window.

The marble windowsill, warmed by the sun, made Xiang Ning squint. He felt a wave of drowsiness and closed his eyes.

He Rong, without looking up from his documents, asked, “Do you have any free time this week?”

Yuan, the assistant, looked down and honestly replied, “No.”

He Rong frowned, “Find something unimportant to cancel. I have something.”

“Wednesday at six, there’s a cocktail party. Can that work?”

“No.” He Rong signed the document, put it aside, and continued, “I need it during the Civil Affairs Bureau’s working hours.”

Yuan paused, then said, “Thursday morning, there’s a company meeting to discuss a contract, which hasn’t been confirmed yet.”

“Which company?”

“Qinghai.”

“Cancel it.”

Yuan marked it with his pen.