GT chapter 3

After watching the movie twice, Duan Xingchi put down the tablet, rested his hands behind his head, and stared at the ceiling light in a daze.

After all, he was in someone else’s home, and he and Luo Jin weren’t familiar yet. He didn’t feel as relaxed as he did at home, and there wasn’t much for him to do.

He was a bit bored.

He started wondering when Luo Jin would get off work. He didn’t yet know how to get along with him, but having someone else around would surely be better than being alone.

When noon finally came, he figured it was late enough for a nap. Relieved, he buried himself in the bed.

It was only about four in the morning in Country Y, so he was worried he might sleep straight through to the evening. To prevent that, he set an alarm for two o’clock.

But even so, it took six rounds of the alarm chirping before he finally got up. His hair was a mess from rubbing against the pillow, and he ruffled it again irritably.

Jet lag was really annoying. Duan Xingchi turned off the still-diligently-ringing alarm and cursed in English.

He made another cup of coffee and looked at his tired reflection in the full-length mirror in the living room — the exhaustion on his face and the dark circles under his eyes were painfully obvious.

The fatigue made him irritable. Sitting on the sofa, his face practically spelled out: I’m not happy.

…….

On his way home, Luo Jin stopped by the supermarket and bought a lot of groceries. When it was just him, he could eat whatever, but the young master couldn’t be treated so casually — the Duan family was a prominent one, and their meals at home were probably like New Year’s feasts every day.

He called Duan Xingchi. The phone rang for twenty or thirty seconds before it was answered.

When Luo Jin first met him, he’d noticed Duan Xingchi’s voice — low, unexpectedly mature for his age, and very pleasant to hear.

“Xiao Chi, what do you like to eat? I’m buying groceries.”

“Anything’s fine.”

“Send me what you want to eat.”

“Anything’s fine.”

He repeated it again.

“Then I’ll just buy a bit of everything.”

“Mm.”

After hanging up, Luo Jin couldn’t help wondering — was it just him, or did the boy sound annoyed? Was he being too chatty?

But come on, it was only two questions.

Luo Jin shook his head. Melting this little block of ice was clearly going to be a long-term project.

He carried bags full of meat and vegetables home, the plastic handles leaving red marks on his hands.

Duan Xingchi, sitting on the sofa, looked up at him when he came in.
“You’re back.”

“Mm.”

Luo Jin responded, changed his shoes, and carried the bags into the kitchen. He washed a plate of the fresh fruit he’d just bought and set it down on the coffee table in front of Duan Xingchi.

“Thanks.”

His tone was flat and indifferent — it didn’t sound particularly grateful, but it couldn’t be called impolite either.

“Eat something first. I’ll start cooking. Are you hungry?”

Duan Xingchi shook his head. Luo Jin glanced at him, feeling that he didn’t seem to be in a very good mood.

Luo Jin first cleaned up the leftover breakfast from that morning. By comparing what was eaten and what wasn’t, he roughly figured out what Duan Xingchi liked — that way, he’d have a better idea of what to make in the future.

After tidying up, he called out from the kitchen, “How about braised spare ribs for dinner? That’s one of my specialties — all my friends love it.

“Or maybe sweet-and-sour mandarin fish? I just bought the fish and had the seller clean it on the spot. If we keep it till tomorrow, it won’t be fresh anymore, but if you don’t feel like it, I can save it for another day.

“And maybe a vegetable dish? What kind of veggies do you like?”

He was trying to lighten the atmosphere between them, but after talking for a while, there was still no response. From the kitchen doorway, while tying his apron, he glanced toward the sofa.

Duan Xingchi already had a headache from his messed-up sleep schedule — his head had been buzzing all afternoon. Hearing Luo Jin chatter on made him a little impatient. But since he was staying in someone else’s home, and Luo Jin was only trying to be kind, he couldn’t show it.

Afraid that if he opened his mouth his tone would sound bad, he chose to stay silent.

He knew it was a bit rude, but he really was just… irritated.

“Xiao Chi?” Luo Jin called again.

“I said anything’s fine.”

“Ah, okay.”

Luo Jin stopped talking, turned back into the kitchen, closed the door, and started cooking four dishes.

Duan Xingchi wandered around the living room for a while, rubbing his temples. Then he began to reflect — maybe he’d been too cold. His mom had told him: this isn’t the Duan household, there are no servants here to cater to his moods. He was the guest; Luo Jin was the host. Luo Jin didn’t know about his slow-to-warm personality, so he should make an effort to change.

But changing one’s temperament wasn’t that easy.

After pacing the room several times, he walked to the kitchen door and knocked.

Inside, the sound of the range hood and sizzling food mixed together. Luo Jin probably didn’t hear, so Duan Xingchi simply opened the door.

Luo Jin was cutting potatoes.

The kitchen was hot, and a light sheen of sweat covered his forehead.

When Duan Xingchi came in and closed the door, Luo Jin finally noticed him.

“What is it?”

“Do you… need help?”

Luo Jin shook his head. “No need, I’m almost done.”

“Oh.”

Duan Xingchi didn’t leave. He leaned against the doorway and watched him for a while.

That night, when he had helped Luo Jin turn over in bed, he’d felt the contours of his muscles through the thin fabric of his robe — a lean layer of muscle, not bulky, but well-toned, as shown by the smooth lines of his calves.

And now, with the apron tied snugly around his waist, Duan Xingchi could see even more clearly — Luo Jin’s waist was slim.

Not a fragile kind of slimness, but firm and strong.

Perhaps sensing the gaze behind him, Luo Jin turned around, and Duan Xingchi, caught off guard, met his eyes. He coughed lightly, lowered his head, and looked away.

“It’s smoky in here. Go wait outside.”

Duan Xingchi didn’t know how to cook anyway, and with three dishes already plated and covered on the counter, it wasn’t like he could help much. Standing around doing nothing did feel awkward, so he turned and left.

When the door closed behind him, Luo Jin glanced back, then sighed quietly.

It didn’t feel great, trying to warm someone up who stayed cold, but out of a sense of responsibility — since he’d been entrusted to take care of the boy — he felt that, as the older one, it was up to him to bridge the distance and make things more comfortable between them.

Duan Xingchi went back to the sofa, sat down, and picked a few grapes from the plate.

They were pretty sweet.

Before long, Luo Jin brought out the dishes.

Four dishes and a soup.

They sat facing each other at the table.

Luo Jin handed him a pair of chopsticks. “Try it. Might not be as good as your family’s chef, but it should be decent.”

The Duan family’s chef was Chinese, so Duan Xingchi had grown up tasting dishes from every regional cuisine.

Luo Jin’s cooking was home-style — not fancy, not belonging to any particular cuisine — but to be fair, the taste was genuinely good.

“No, it’s really good,” Duan Xingchi said.

“As long as you like it.” Luo Jin breathed a small sigh of relief and started eating. Neither of them spoke again — only the faint clinking of chopsticks against plates filled the quiet room.

Luo Jin ate quickly, but afraid Duan Xingchi would feel awkward eating alone, he stayed seated, keeping him company.

Still, it felt strange for one person to eat while the other just sat there watching, so Luo Jin tried to make conversation.

“Did you sleep well last night? Was the bed comfortable?”

He hadn’t slept well, but the bed was comfortable, so Duan Xingchi nodded.

“Jet lag bothering you? I noticed you had quite a bit of coffee.”

He nodded again.

Luo Jin looked at his face — even paler than the day before, when he’d just gotten off a long flight. Clearly, he was still struggling to adjust.

“You could go out for a walk during the day. Fresh air might help.”

“Okay.”

This time, instead of nodding, he actually spoke — finally.

After that, Duan Xingchi set his chopsticks down.

Seeing that he was done eating, Luo Jin got up to clear the table, but Duan Xingchi stood too. “Let me help.”

The young master had probably never done such chores before. Luo Jin tilted his chin toward the sofa. “Go sit. I’ve got it.”

“Oh.”

Luo Jin noticed he said “oh” a lot — but maybe it was just him, because today’s “oh” sounded a bit dazed, not as cold as yesterday’s.

He wrapped up the leftovers in cling film and put them in the fridge. The dishes were easy enough to wash — after cleaning and drying them, he placed them neatly in the disinfection cabinet.

When Luo Jin came out again, Duan Xingchi was still sitting on the sofa. Suddenly, he remembered that when he went upstairs earlier, he had only brought up the new things he’d bought — Duan Xingchi’s suitcase was still in the trunk. The kid hadn’t even mentioned it.

“Oh, right — your luggage. I brought it back; it’s still in the car. I’ll go get it for you in a bit.”

“I’ll get it myself.”

Since he said that, Luo Jin figured he could take the chance to show him around the villa complex, so that when he wasn’t home, Duan Xingchi could go to the plaza or the pool to relax.

“Then let’s go together.”

Duan Xingchi clearly froze for a moment, but a few seconds later, he surprisingly didn’t refuse.

After changing clothes, they went out. Once they stepped outside, Luo Jin said, “I’ll show you around the neighborhood?”

“Mm.”

They walked side by side, but there was still about a person’s width of distance between them.

“The house is closer to the plaza, but it’s mostly old folks there — you might find it boring.

“The swimming pool’s that way, outdoors. There are more young people there. If you don’t like outdoor pools, that white villa over there is an indoor swimming hall. Behind it is a basketball court. Do you like playing basketball?”

Luo Jin turned his head to look at him. Duan Xingchi nodded. Back in high school, he’d been the captain of the basketball team, so not only did he like it — he was actually quite good at it.

That answer made sense. With that height, not playing basketball would be a waste.

They kept walking forward. Luo Jin pointed to a villa painted a soft gray-pink and said, “That one’s a mini theater, but I’ve never been there. I’ve got projectors in both my study and the living room — watching at home feels the same. You can use them if you get bored.”

“Okay, got it.”

With his hands clasped behind his back, Luo Jin walked like an old man. “Were you always this quiet back in Country Y too?”

Duan Xingchi shook his head honestly. Back there, he’d been with people he’d known for a long time. At first, he’d been just as quiet with them too, but once he got used to them, he’d opened up and become close.

But Luo Jin didn’t know what he was thinking. Seeing him shake his head actually made him feel a bit disappointed.

“I see.”

“Then is it because—” Luo Jin paused, “you’re not used to being here, or because… you don’t like me?”