Page 19

By the time the driver dropped him off at home, the alcohol had belatedly gone to his head. He got out of the car and entered the villa. As he pushed open the front door, two party poppers went bang, and confetti rained down from above.

He looked up and met the sight of Fu Cheng's bright, rosy face.

"Happy birthday, brother!"

Fu Yuhe brushed the shiny scraps of paper out of his hair.

There was no way Fu Cheng had come up with this idea. Fu Yuhe turned his head and saw Shen Yi standing to the right of the door, with Fu Cheng on the left, like a pair of door gods.

The young man stood tall, holding a violin. He tilted his head slightly against it, his lowered eyes giving him a beautiful, serene look. Then the lights in the villa went out.

As the sound of a violin played close to Fu Yuhe's ear, Fu Cheng lit the candles on a cake and carried it over from the other side.

When the violin finished playing "Happy Birthday," Shen Yi's voice sounded beside Fu Yuhe's ear. "Happy birthday, Brother Fu."

"Your idea?" Fu Yuhe's voice was a little hoarse. He pressed his aching temple.

"Mm-hmm." The young man's voice had a lazy drawl.

Fu Yuhe gave his assessment. "Not much of one."

Shen Yi said, "Setting the mood is enough. You wouldn't like it if we went too far, would you?"

He sounded so certain, as if he knew Fu Yuhe well, that it made Fu Yuhe itch to put him in his place.

He narrowed his eyes and pressed his tongue against his cheek, then turned his head and caught the outline of Shen Yi in the shadows. He couldn't make out his expression, but he thought Shen Yi was probably smiling.

Shen Yi had originally meant to make things even more "lively and over the top," making enough of a fuss to break Fu Yuhe's usual impassive expression. But yesterday, Fu Yuhe had given him a signal that he wanted to make peace. Shen Yi had reflected on it and decided he ought to meet him halfway.

It was his birthday, after all. Besides, Fu Cheng trusted him so much-how could he disappoint the good little brother? Just enough birthday atmosphere would do. Too much, and it would be a shock instead of a surprise.

"Brother, brother, make a wish and blow out the candles." Fu Cheng guided him through the proceedings like a dedicated host.

Fu Cheng had a mysterious fixation on celebrating his birthday, so Fu Yuhe tried to clear some time for it every year. But the celebrations were always simple. He didn't like sweets, so they usually didn't buy a cake. Instead, Fu Cheng would cook a bowl of plain noodles in a watery broth as longevity noodles.

The candles on the cake illuminated Fu Yuhe's face, one side in candlelight and the other in shadow.

"Put it on the table. You might trip in the dark," Shen Yi said from the side.

"Oh, right." Fu Cheng turned and headed back.

The light receded from him inch by inch. Fu Yuhe's fingers curled, and then a hand caught his wrist, pulling him along when his feet seemed rooted to the spot.

"Come on, Brother Fu. Fu Cheng's really looking forward to eating the cake," Shen Yi said.

Fu Yuhe didn't like sweets, but Fu Cheng did.

Perhaps because the alcohol had gone to his head, Fu Yuhe didn't make an issue of Shen Yi taking hold of him. He let Shen Yi lead him step by step toward the candlelight.

He had come in from outside with a chill all over him, but the palm wrapped around his wrist gradually warmed it. They made it to the table, and Shen Yi let go. Fu Yuhe could still feel where his hand had been.

He curled his fingertips.

Chapter 9: Gift

Fu Yuhe still remembered how Fu Cheng had left the house yesterday, tossing out an "I'm going out" with no intention of saying anything more to him. When Fu Yuhe asked where he was going, Fu Cheng had told him to mind his own business, though the answer had really been easy to guess.

Today, Fu Cheng seemed to have put their grievances behind him with a smile, abandoning his earlier determination to see their "cold war" through to the end. He held the cake and urged Fu Yuhe to blow out the candles, smiling brightly and sweetly.

His gaze paused for a moment. From the corner of his eye, he glanced at Shen Yi, who stood half a step behind him, then quickly looked away. He bent over as if helpless to refuse Fu Cheng and did as he wanted, blowing out the candles.

"It's getting late. Go to bed early," he said.

"How can we do that?" This time it was Shen Yi who answered. "You haven't eaten any cake yet, Brother Fu."

With the candles blown out, the living room lost its light and was briefly plunged into darkness. Fu Yuhe couldn't see Shen Yi's expression. As he listened to the drawn-out end of his sentence, he gently rubbed the pads of his index finger and thumb together.

"Fu Cheng and I made the cake together," Shen Yi said, lowering his voice. "We put so much heart into it. Aren't you touched, Brother Fu?"

Fu Yuhe suddenly tugged at the corner of his lips and lowered his voice too. "I am. How could I not be? I should repay you properly."

Shen Yi said, "There's no need to repay me."

Fu Yuhe's voice had remained a little hoarse since he'd been drinking, making it more magnetic than usual. He said unhurriedly, "That wouldn't be right."

How could he not see that Shen Yi was deliberately trying to throw him off balance every time, teasing him as if he were a cat...

Fu Yuhe's gaze darkened.

He was no kitten. If someone tried to tease a tiger as if it were a cat, one careless move could see the tiger devour them, bones and all.

With his attention drawn to Shen Yi, Fu Yuhe didn't notice that Fu Cheng had quietly left the table in the dark.

Fu Cheng had tried this route several times in the dark, and he reached the stairs without a hitch. He pressed the switch, and the string of lights hanging from the banister lit up like little stars.

Now they had the cozy atmosphere for a birthday celebration.

"Let's cut the cake, brother!" Fu Cheng came over in a few strides. Lowering his eyes, he picked up the cake knife and offered it to Fu Yuhe as respectfully as if he were offering his big brother a cigarette.

Fu Yuhe said, "...I'll wash my hands first."

Fu Cheng withdrew his hand. "Oh."

Fu Yuhe said, "If you want some, cut it yourself."

"No, the first slice has to be for you," Fu Cheng said.

Beside them, Shen Yi pulled over a chair and sat down as naturally as if he were in his own home. "It's about the sense of ceremony."

Fu Cheng nodded. "We need a sense of ceremony."

Fu Yuhe said, "..."