Fei Du seemed even stiffer than the cast on his arm. He’d apparently gone into flight mode, yet in the end, he didn’t end up running. Sitting in the car surrounded by Luo Wenzhou’s mix of pop and folk music, Fei Du remained frozen until Luo Wenzhou parked at his own building.
“The doctor said to avoid smoking, alcohol, and sex. And don’t go wandering around outside now that you’re in a cast. Experience how an elderly man would live his golden years.” Luo Wenzhou tilted his chin toward Fei Du. “Get out.”
Fei Du gazed at him for a while with an unreadable expression, then carefully lifted his injured arm and wiggled out of the car in an exceptionally uncoordinated manner. After that, he walked so slowly that Luo Wenzhou had to keep stopping and waiting for him to catch up.
“Seriously, Young Master? Good thing I live on the first floor. Otherwise, I’d have to carry you up.”
Fei Du remained silent and didn’t bite back. He was like a cat that had set foot outside its territory for the first time. Every muscle in his body was on high alert as he moved step by step toward Luo Wenzhou’s door.
The instant Luo Wenzhou opened the door, the master of the house poked his small, round head outside to survey things. He seemed to have been waiting there for quite a while. Luo Wenzhou glared at him. “Luo Yiguo! Get back inside! Don’t block the way!”
The large cardboard box in Luo Wenzhou’s hand was blocking Luo Yiguo’s view. The cat could smell cream, and he suspected that this was some new offering from his loyal poop scooper. He stretched out his neck as he reached to scratch at the box, not bothering to be polite at all. That was when he noticed an unfamiliar man behind Luo Wenzhou.
Fei Du and Luo Yiguo exchanged glances. Fei Du, who was fairly reserved, just took a small step back. Luo Yiguo, on the other hand, raised his hackles, let out a scream that didn’t seem to have come from a cat, and made a 180-degree turn on all four paws. His claws scraped against the polished floor, his large, marble-like eyes glaring as he pressed himself to the ground. In this “powerful” pose, he turned and made eye contact with Fei Du again. Then he turned tail, stuffed himself into the crevice between the sofa and the floor, and refused to come out.
Luo Wenzhou was speechless. He was kind of embarrassed to have raised such a scaredy-cat.
“No need to take off your shoes,” he told Fei Du, and pointed at the sofa. “Sit wherever you like. The cat wasn’t so scared of strangers before. Last time a coworker came over, he chased them around for the whole visit. How come he’s only afraid of you? Luo Yiguo! Get out here! You’ll get yourself covered in dust and then rub it all over my bed, asshole!”
Luo Yiguo played dead.
“Do you want to be fed or not?!” Luo Wenzhou yelled at the sofa.
This time, Luo Yiguo heard him. Two perky whiskers peeked tentatively from under the sofa. Then, smelling a stranger, the cat shrank back.
Comrade Luo Yiguo was so frightened of Fei-zong that he’d now gone on a hunger strike.
With no other choice, Luo Wenzhou opened a can of wet food and tossed it beside Luo Yiguo’s bowl. Then, after going through his cabinets, he threw a box of candy at Fei Du, who sat stiffly on the sofa. “See whether that’s expired yet. I’m going to go fry up a few random things for dinner. But I’m warning you now, I don’t cater to rich young masters. You’ll have to eat whatever I make, so don’t be as picky as usual.”
For once, Fei Du didn’t object. He was so rigid it looked as though he was sitting not on a sofa, but on one of the Roof of the World’s treacherous mountaintops.
Luo Wenzhou headed back into the kitchen, and Fei Du waited a while before opening the candy box, maneuvering awkwardly with one hand. There were all kinds of weird, intriguing candies inside; this was probably one of those boxes of assorted candies that you’d buy during the new year. Several pieces of chocolate had melted into postmodern shapes that would look utterly unappealing to anyone. At the very bottom of the box was a fairly simple, rough paper bag. Inside was a handful of milk candies. Fei Du froze. He knew what these candies tasted like: Their milk flavor wasn’t strong enough, and they always lost their shape and stuck to your teeth.
After Fei Du’s mother passed away, the young police officers had often given him these cheap milk candies. He always thought that it was gentle, caring Tao Ran who’d gotten them for him.
Fei Du pulled out a piece out of candy, ripped the wrapper apart with his teeth, and tossed the candy into his mouth. He looked toward the kitchen. The range hood was blasting, and a knife clicked rhythmically against a cutting board. Luo Wenzhou’s back appeared every now and again through the doorway.
Luo Wenzhou had claimed that he would just “fry up a few random things,” but he actually put in some effort, and he was a pretty good cook. In no time, he’d put together an entire table of dishes, including vegetables and meat. Then he set the cake in the center. After a moment’s thought, he put a candle on it.
He looked up and caught Fei Du’s gaze, then asked somewhat awkwardly, “What are you looking at? I’m not singing you a birthday song. Do you want to make a wish? You could wish not to be hit by a car on your next birthday or something.”
“Okay,” said Fei Du.
The pair stared at the cutesy, cartoonish candle for a while. The mood was bizarre, like they were mourning the past or something.
Regretting his efforts immediately, Luo Wenzhou urged, “You’d better blow it out. This is kind of stupid.”
Fei Du was like a living candy jar—he didn’t feel joy unless there were sweets in his life. There weren’t many types of cake he was unfamiliar with, but birthday cake was one of those rare few. He might have had one when he was very young. He remembered there being a lot of guests at his house back then; his birthday had basically just been a spectacle for others. He had only been given a tiny token piece of the exorbitantly expensive cake, and then the confection was taken away. When he asked for another piece the next day, there weren’t any…because the cream had no longer been fresh.