As they reached the fork in the hallway towards the cafeteria, Jiang Hua led him back in the direction of the apartment.
Tong Sui asked, “Oh? Aren’t we going to eat in the cafeteria?”
He was pulled into the apartment.
The dining table was set with several dishes that had already been prepared, steaming hot.
Compared to the standard meals served in the cafeteria, the food on the table looked a bit “amateurish.”
Tong Sui was momentarily stunned.
“Did you make this yourself?”
Jiang Hua responded with a simple “Mm.”
Seeing Tong Sui enjoy the food prepared by someone else, his face lit up with joy, and a sense of urgency welled up inside him.
After escorting Tong Sui back to the research institute, Jiang Hua did not return to the apartment directly. Instead, he took a detour to one of the few shops still selling fresh ingredients and bought a pile of supplies.
All the training Jiang Hua had ever received had been based on the lowest standard of survival.
There exists a gap between being able to eat and eating well.
Thus, he also bought a cookbook on gourmet dishes.
Fortunately, he was adept with his knife and managed to make something acceptable following the recipe.
Jiang Hua said, “Sit down and give it a taste,”
“Mm-hmm.”
Tong Sui sat down and picked up a piece of food with his chopsticks. A familiar feeling washed over him, as if he had been transported back through time.
He felt a wave of nostalgia, and his eyes began to water slightly.
“What’s wrong? Is it not tasty?” Jiang Hua had tasted each dish beforehand and confirmed they were decent.
But seeing Tong Sui’s eyes turning red made him concerned.
He picked up a empty plate and said, “If it tastes bad, just spit it out.”
“It’s not that,” Tong Sui quickly held back his tears, “The taste of the dishes reminds me of a very close family member, and I miss him so much.”
Tong Sui looked up at him, his dark eyes misty and filled with profound emotions that left Jiang Hua momentarily bewildered.
To Jiang Hua, family and friends felt too abstract; he had never truly experienced that bond.
The strongest emotions he felt were only uncontrollably manifested when he saw Tong Sui, causing him to do things he found strange himself.
He longed to see Tong Sui happily eating the food he had prepared.
Thus, he nervously prepared this meal.
That anxious feeling was like handing over a weapon to Tong Sui; if he was unhappy, he could execute it at any time.
Tong Sui said, “I truly like today’s dishes, I really do.”
Jiang Hua could see that Tong Sui was not merely comforting him or being insincere; he genuinely enjoyed it.
His heart, which had been hanging in suspense, finally relaxed.
He sat down.
He hardly touched his chopsticks during the meal and instead stared intently at Tong Sui, hoping to engrave the scene in his memory forever.
Jiang Hua felt as though he had returned to many years ago, to that humid and dark room.
The exhaust fan spun in circles.
It divided the light into countless shards, casting them onto the thin, small child kneeling on the ground.
Jiang Hua stood beside him like an outsider.
A man with blonde hair tossed a dagger in front of him while coldly saying, “9527, you don’t need friends.”
The child on the ground trembled, powerless to refute.
Jiang Hua bent down, picked up the dagger, stepped forward, and plunged the sharp edge into the man’s left chest.
Bright red blood flowed out.
The man collapsed, and the boundless darkness enveloping him tore open.
Light poured in.
Jiang Hua pulled away from that nightmarish memory, finding everything before him so beautiful he felt a bit dazed.
He was no longer someone who needed to define himself through tasks and regulations; he no longer belonged to any organization.
Once Tong Sui filled his stomach, he put down his chopsticks.
Noticing Jiang Hua’s absent-minded expression, he waved his hand in front of him, “Captain Hua, what are you thinking about? You seem lost in thought.”
Jiang Hua reached out and grasped his wrist.
His eyes were dark, like a sapphire hidden in shadow, “Do you really want to know?”
Tong Sui paused for a few seconds before nodding.
He held Tong Sui’s hand, his fair fingertips brushing against the calluses on his thumb and index finger.
“Do you know how these calluses came to be?”
Of course, Tong Sui knew.
These particular calluses could not have formed in just two months of the apocalypse; only someone who had held a gun for years would have them.
“My world was starkly different from the one where we lived together for over a decade. My world was pitch-dark and filthy. As long as I could earn money, I would take any job, and over the years, I’ve lost count of how much blood is on my hands.”
Jiang Hua’s gaze was fixed intensely on Tong Sui before him.
He thought he would see disgust or fear reflected on that frequently startled face.
But Tong Sui reacted differently than he had expected.
Tong Sui stood up, approached, and gently wrapped his arms around him, his hands resting on his back and the nape of his neck.
“It won’t be like that in the future.”
A jolt ran through Jiang Hua, as if he had heard something shatter.
The narrow gap between them widened.
Countless beams of warmth and light flooded into his damp, moss-covered dark corners.
Tong Sui lowered his head, lightly brushing against his eyelids, “I won’t let you stay in the darkness. As long as I’m here, I will always be with you.”
Jiang Hua’s hand moved up, holding the back of Tong Sui’s neck, rubbing the jutting vertebrae.
“I believe you.”
He tightened his grip, holding Tong Sui’s head firmly.
“You have no chance to back out now.”
Tong Sui lowered his head, kissing him. In their private space, the soft sounds they made amplified in the quiet, filling the air around them.
The chair legs scraped against the floor, producing a slightly grating sound.
Subscribe
Login
0 Comments