Chapter 21: Barbecue
Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations
Editor: Karai
The old Xishan building where they used to have classes had already been torn down. Compared to the newly built Xueyuan building, the Dongshan building looked old and worn, like a relic from another century. Lin Su figured that at this rate, Dongshan wouldn’t last much longer, so he took out his phone and snapped a few photos to remember it by.
Shi Wenze stood behind him, idly reading the famous quotes on the wall. Back in school, he only remembered one—Lu Xun—but now he noticed the portraits of Turgenev and Socrates flanking it. One said to believe in yourself; the other said that striving for ideals was the happiest thing in the world. Probably meant to encourage students, but Shi Wenze thought it looked more like a cheerleading squad for romance. Simple and common words, sure—but with oil-painted portraits hanging on the wall, they suddenly seemed urgent, inspiring you to seize the moment and pursue your love right now.
Shi Wenze exhaled lightly and struck a confident pose—only to catch sight of a security guard. Not a romantic guard, but the high school’s security. The man held a baton and asked cautiously, “What are you two doing here?”
Shi Wenze rubbed his nose and whispered into Lin Su’s ear, “Want to try sneaking over the wall like we missed out on back in high school?”
Lin Su didn’t mind, but the guard looked to be at least sixty. Could he really handle a Jackie Chan-style chase? Probably not, so he signaled Shi Wenze to calm down and told the guard, “We used to study here, just came back to see the Dongshan building. We’re leaving right away.”
The guard didn’t buy it. “Who let you in? Come with me to the security office.”
“Geez, no need, sir, we’re leaving right now,” Shi Wenze grabbed Lin Su’s wrist and started to leave. But at the end of the hall, another figure appeared.
Wearing a blue shirt, a middle-aged teacher carried a stack of transfer student files. He was humming happily, looking forward to having a star student join his class—then he saw the two guys playing chase with the guard. Shocked and angry, he called out, “Shi Wenze! Stop right there! What are you doing again?”
Some things really are written in your DNA. Hearing that familiar voice, Shi Wenze stopped in his tracks. He even felt like writing a 500-word apology and grabbing a broom to sweep the playground again. The whole routine of skipping class and getting caught? He’d truly mastered it.
The teacher, Wang Hongyu, asked the guard for details, then sent him back to the security office. Shi Wenze clasped Lin Su’s shoulders and pushed him forward, putting him between himself and the teacher. “You go first. I need a good student as a shield.”
Lin Su thought: If this went on Weibo, people would definitely be advising us to break up, okay?
Wang Hongyu saw the move and was both annoyed and amused. He had class to teach and no time for this nonsense, so he just asked when Lin Su had returned to the country, reminded them not to climb the wall or disturb younger students during class, and hurried back to the building.
Shi Wenze sighed. “Even after all these years, Old Wang’s nagging hasn’t changed a bit.”
“Next time you have time, come visit the teachers,” Lin Su said. “Come on, let’s go get some barbecue.”
Shi Wenze’s favorite old barbecue stand was tucked away in a back alley. It started as a small cart, then a small storefront, and somehow over the years had become a local internet celebrity. Streamers often came to film there, and during peak hours it was nearly impossible to find a seat.
But no matter how busy, Shi Wenze’s face still carried weight. The owner, surnamed Sun, was happy to see him and didn’t make them sit outside. Instead, he gave them a VIP room—the old kitchen transformed with a table and chairs. The late-night diner branch of Shanhai High had officially opened.
Uncle Sun didn’t remember Lin Su much but was happy to hear he was also a Shanhai student. “Then you must’ve studied hard. Not like Xiao Wen—he came by all the time. When I was busy, he’d help with the grilling and picked up some tricks.”
“Helping out never got him a discount,” Shi Wenze joked. He rode a motorcycle and couldn’t drink, so he grabbed two Cokes. The ceiling was low, so he had to duck to avoid hitting his head. “Business is so good, why don’t you move to a bigger place? This street’s supposed to be getting torn down, right?”
“Not just this shop—the whole street. We’ve found a new place nearby,” Uncle Sun said, turning on the exhaust fan. “But I’m closing soon. My brother and his wife are taking over. Their new spot’s bigger. Bring more friends to support us there.”
Uncle Sun had run his barbecue shop for most of his life. With his secret spice blend, generations of students had elevated him to legend. Now that he was retiring at the end of the month, he planned to return to his hometown and rest.
Hearing this, Shi Wenze felt… hard to describe. Xishan building was gone, this barbecue joint was closing, and it felt like his high school memories were slowly fading away. He glanced at Lin Su, who probably felt the same. Their eyes met, and suddenly a burst of light “whooshed” out, illuminating the dim kitchen.
Lin Su jumped, and Shi Wenze hurriedly pulled him and a chair back. The owner sprayed oil flamboyantly, producing another flare.
Lin Su never expected a barbecue to come with a fire juggling show. He nervously touched his hair, wondering if he needed to join the failed perm club overnight. But Uncle Sun, this dangerous man, kept playing with fire—his hands trembled wildly, like he was performing a wild musical piece.
Shi Wenze wanted to shout “Stop! Calm down!” but worried it’d make him look like the weird kid from high school. He grabbed Lin Su’s hand and explained, “He didn’t do this back then. Has the barbecue scene gotten so competitive?”
Lin Su was captivated by the show. He watched as Uncle Sun tossed squid by hand—what a Cthulhu-worthy feast. Seeing the appreciative audience, Uncle Sun got even more excited. His skills were graceful and smooth, making even the best noodle pullers jealous.
With a loud “thud,” plates of grilled skewers landed before them. Uncle Sun wiped his face with a towel. “Eat up, I need a breather.”
Shi Wenze: “No need to work so hard, really.”
Lin Su took a bite and was immediately impressed. After several skewers, his impression of Shi Wenze shifted from “Why didn’t you take me here in high school?” to “Why didn’t you bring me here sooner?” The former was the sad melancholy of neglected love; the latter, a delicious kind of betrayal. Clearly, feelings alone won’t fill you up—you gotta eat well.
Shi Wenze cautioned, “Slow down, slow down.”
Lin Su bit into a lamb chop, as “The Great Wall” played in his mind like an epic soundtrack. They ate for nearly two hours. Uncle Sun refused to take Shi Wenze’s money—back then, Shi Wenze often brought various “social connections” here and helped the business. This last meal before closing was on the house. Shi Wenze thought about his own wandering, irresponsible image.
After some negotiation, they compromised: Shi Wenze paid, and Uncle Sun gave him a fresh lamb leg, recently sent from home, to take back and roast.
By now, night was nearly falling. Shi Wenze had originally planned to take Lin Su for a ride around the edge of the city, but unexpectedly, a lamb leg fell from the sky. It was wrapped in a burlap sack and hung from the handlebar of his bike, looking like Aunt Wang who had just rushed out of the market grabbing discounted fresh meat. Clearly, no one living a normal life should be riding a heavy bike like this. Lin Su pointed at it and asked, “Do you want to take this home now?”
Shi Wenze thought to himself that if he didn’t take it home right away and let it keep dripping blood like that, some concerned citizen would probably call 911. Then, suddenly inspired, he said, “How about I bring it to your place? We can pick a weekend to roast it. Your yard should be perfect for a barbecue.”
Lin Su agreed, “Okay.”
They say when one door closes, another opens—that’s probably what this meant. The leg of lamb, which had seemed so out of place in their relationship, suddenly became a catalyst for their romance. By this point, both of them felt they owed Boss Sun a banner for good luck.
Shi Wenze and Lin Su returned to Qinghu Garden together. Inside the living room, Lin Lu sat dazed on the sofa, her eyes fixed blankly on Du Siyue in front of her. She could only see his lips moving nonstop but couldn’t catch a single word; all she wanted was for him to stop.
When the door outside clicked open, Lin Lu felt a wave of relief and tried to slip away. But the moment she opened the door, she saw her brother and Shi Wenze arriving together like a couple—two husbands returning home. Her headache worsened. No matter where she went, people kept forcing her to ship couples.
Lin Su looked confused. “What are you doing here?”
Du Siyue, startled, blurted out, “What the hell is in that bloody sack?”
Lin Su glanced at the wall clock. “It’s the guy who didn’t come home until 8 p.m. last night and came to bother my sister.”
Du Siyue was speechless. Shi Wenze put the leg of lamb into the fridge and washed his hands. When he came out, he heard Du Siyue rambling about a new plan.
Lin Su interrupted, “How many followers does your alternate account have now?”
Du Siyue waved dismissively. “Let’s put that plan on hold for now. Not even a thousand.”
“Not even a thousand is… how many?”
“Two.”
Lin Su admired him quietly. Negative growth?
Du Siyue had plenty of grievances to share. He shifted over on the sofa, motioning for Shi Wenze to sit with them. Though they were still strangers, the world was cold, and a little warmth was always good.
He explained how hard it was to infiltrate the fan groups. After joining, he sent red envelopes, manipulated data, shared giveaways—he did everything necessary. Jiang Yuhao’s public square had been booming thanks to his big prizes. His alternate account’s followers once skyrocketed to thirteen.
“So I got cocky,” Du Siyue admitted. “I tried posting a photo of myself, saying this handsome guy isn’t bad either.”
He quickly lost eleven followers, leaving only two—one a giveaway bot on Weibo, the other a zombie account.
After hearing his tale of losses, Lin Su patted his shoulder. “Forget it. Give up. The entertainment industry isn’t for you.”
Lin Lu stood at the bar counter pouring water. “Du, not only do you refuse to quit, you even want to stir up a fake couple with Jiang Yuhao.” Though it didn’t concern her, just hearing about it made her pity the top star and his obsessed fans. Lin Su gave Du Siyue a look that screamed “weirdo.” Feeling wounded, Du Siyue said, “I want a painting by Cang Daming.”
Lin Su didn’t get it. “How would that help you leech off Jiang Yuhao?”
Du Siyue was confused. “What Jiang Yuhao? I want the painting as a gift for my dad’s friend to help me with a project. What does Jiang Yuhao have to do with it? Could you maybe stop obsessing over that man all the time? Who’s really your brother? If Jiang Yuhao and I both fell into a river, who would you save?”
Lin Su answered without hesitation, “Him.”
“Fine, but you gotta give me the painting first,” Du Siyue insisted. “The one in your bedroom—the Baikal Lake painting. I’m taking that.”
Shi Wenze’s brow twitched when he heard that. Lin Su grabbed Du Siyue just as he was about to head upstairs. “No way. That painting can’t go to you.”
“Come on, I really need it. Whether we sign a contract depends on that Baikal Lake painting. This isn’t a small business.” Du Siyue was pulled back onto the sofa with such force that his tailbone hurt. “I already checked upstairs. The frame is dirty and cracked, and you don’t even like Cang Daming. You said so in that interview—two minutes of pleasantries, then you called me for an hour to complain like a broken record. Now why are you suddenly so attached to it?”
Lin Su was speechless. Shi Wenze too. The silence was deafening. The sudden concern from a crazy friend was the worst, and hearing news about Cang Daming hit hard. Lin Su couldn’t cover his mouth in time; memories came crashing back, twisting painfully. Yes, he really didn’t like Cang Daming.
But Shi Wenze had watched that interview and spent a lot of money and effort to buy a painting by Cang Daming. That afternoon, when that splash of blue appeared in the garbage truck driven by the cleaning uncle, Lin Su changed his mind completely and thought maybe he could start liking it a little. Through the blue of Baikal Lake, what he really saw was a battle-worn Shi Wenze—a stand-in in a tragic story.
Du Siyue shouted loudly again, “Why do you two suddenly look so awkward?”
Shi Wenze patted Du Siyue’s arm. “Bro, if you say another word, don’t you think things will get even more awkward?”
Lin Su’s head was buzzing, and all he wanted was for him to shut up. “There are five paintings in Cang Daming’s series. Why don’t you ask the others?”
“Isn’t it easiest for you to do that?” Du Siyue said. “If you’re too attached, I’ll ask some other magical conch. Two of the paintings are out of town—I’m too lazy to bother—and one was taken to Russia by some Dmitriyevich guy I don’t know. The last one… guess who’s got it?”
Lin Su didn’t want to think. “Jiang Yuhao.”
Du Siyue’s whole body stiffened. “Why are you always hung up on Jiang Yuhao? Could it be that you couldn’t resist temptation and became a fan of that scheming man?”
Lin Su stared back at him calmly. “If you say one more useless word, I’ll make your alt account trend on social media.”
Du Siyue sighed, “You’re ruthless,” then raised his hands in surrender. “It’s not Jiang Yuhao. It’s Song Tao. Aren’t you going to the private banquet at Jiayong Auction House on the 15th? He’s the marketing director there. How about you introduce us? If not, I’ll figure out something else.”
“No problem,” Lin Su said. “Alright, you can go now.”
“Alrighty.” Du Siyue got what he wanted, stood up happily, and asked Shi Wenze, “You coming?”
Shi Wenze said he had other things to do. “We’re not the same.”
Lin Lu finished her water but didn’t leave. She propped her arms on the bar, resting her chin in her hands, watching the drama with great interest. Although a devoted fan of nobility, she didn’t usually ship couples, but every now and then, she enjoyed watching people’s fanfiction. Lin Su promptly sent Du Siyue away, then turned to Shi Wenze. “Come to my bedroom.”
Maybe still caught up in the awkwardness of Cang Daming and the Baikal blue painting, Lin Su’s voice sounded a bit cold. Without another word, he headed upstairs like a domineering CEO, about to unleash some illegal but passionate love scene. Shi Wenze followed Lin Su upstairs.
Lin Lu eyeballed their height and build difference. Her brother, standing nearly six feet tall, looked like a corgi next to Shi Wenze. She doubted he could forcibly do anything illegal anyway, so she settled in comfortably, wrapped in a blanket, and turned on a variety show—watching Xia Jiayang’s latest antics.
Lin Su’s bedroom was decorated mainly in gray and white. A soft rug lay by the floor-to-ceiling window, perfect for midnight stargazing.
The blue of Baikal Lake had once been a key prop for his melancholy mood plays, but now Lin Su didn’t want to see the painting at all. He just wanted to drown himself in a latte, then publicly sever ties with Du Siyue.
But on the other hand, in this respect, the two were oddly couple-like. Both surrounded only by a bunch of foolish friends, no romantic wingmen. Life was hard. They were deeply emo.
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