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墨書 Inktalez
The first step to becoming a couple: cooking a meal together.
For Xin Yi, the kitchen was a relatively unfamiliar place. Over the decades since he could remember, the most he had ever done in what was called a kitchen was boil water and occasionally search for spare utensils tucked away in a corner.
So, when he hesitated to ask if he could help, he felt quite nervous under Song Bunan's skeptical gaze. Standing by the sink, Song Bunan held a wriggling fish in his hands, looking at Xin Yi with a distrustful expression that seemed to question whether he could actually cook.
I can't. When Song Bunan handed him the fish, suggesting they kill it first to prove his cooking skills, Xin Yi chose to give up right then and there, clearly indicating that he had never set foot in a kitchen. The triumphant look on Song Bunan's face confirmed Xin Yi's suspicions as he swiftly took back the fish and dealt with it decisively.
"I can tell just by looking that you can't cook," Song Bunan said cheerfully, quickly using a small spoon to scale the fish as they talked. "But this kind of meal is simple enough that I don't need any help. I'm quite good at cooking."
The scales and innards were tossed into a designated trash bag. Watching Song Bunan skillfully fillet and slice the fish, Xin Yi asked what had prompted him to learn how to cook.
Without turning around, Song Bunan replied that he and his brother had been taught household chores by their parents since they were young. They believed that one needed to learn how to work in order to learn how to live, and this way, when they started their own families in the future, the burden of chores wouldn't fall on just one person. "So whenever there's work at home, we all pitch in. When we were little and couldn't reach the stove, Mom would have my brother and me handle the scallions and garlic while Dad chopped the vegetables."
Xin Yi remained silent, taking note of this new information. He had never known that family interactions could take such a form. In his life, he had encountered many families—some with housewives, some with stay-at-home dads—who often quarreled over trivial matters, which struck him as quite unbelievable.
"After moving out, it's much more freeing. If I want to cook today, I can; if not, I can leave it be without being nagged by my parents—it's really nice. Cooking is my talent; I can learn most dishes just by watching my parents make them once. As I grew up, I learned and experimented on my own—it became easy for me to make delicious food. So whenever I have time at home, I definitely cook for myself."
With nimble hands and feet, Song Bunan finished preparing the fish and wrapped it in plastic wrap for later. Seeing that there was still time left, Xin Yi leaned against the doorframe as he watched Song Bunan categorize and store other ingredients before bringing out what they would eat now.
"Brother Xinyi, if you have any food preferences or dislikes, remember to tell me so I can pay attention when cooking in the future. And let me know what you like to eat too!" The soy milk was still warm; after adding sugar, its texture was smoother compared to when it was unsweetened. The pastry was crispy yet tender inside, with a filling that made one unable to stop eating.
Meeting Song Bunan's gentle gaze, Xin Yi replied that he had no particular dislikes and wasn't picky about food. This made Song Bunan look up suddenly with a pout, expressing that his mom would be super happy to hear this and would praise him while scolding him and his brother.
"Are you both picky eaters?" Xin Yi asked curiously after swallowing the last bite of his pastry. Song Bunan took a big sip of soy milk and replied defiantly, "We're not picky eaters; we just got spoiled by too much good food and don't really like bad-tasting things. Blame my parents for being such good cooks."
Only families filled with happiness could raise such confident children, Xin Yi thought quietly to himself. He truly envied Song Bunan's family; just hearing him describe it conveyed a sense of warmth and harmony from their parents that gave them enough confidence to face and argue about what might be seen as flaws in other contexts.
He was unsure whether Song Bunan knew he was an orphan. During these days, he had never heard the other ask about his family situation. Instead, Song Bunan often shared amusing stories about his own family, occasionally recounting some embarrassing moments involving Song Buxian in a particularly careful tone.
On the first day he was carried back home and discovered by Song Buxian, Xin Yi felt a momentary lapse of focus and tension. However, when Song Bunan talked about it, he seemed unnaturally calm, slumping on the sofa while mimicking his brother's mannerisms and tone from that day, even making sarcastic comments about his own thoughts on certain matters.
"Would your brother disagree?" Xin Yi asked as he finished the last sip of soy milk, feeling an inexplicable wave of insecurity about their relationship. After all, setting aside their work situations and focusing solely on family, he wasn't exactly the best choice.
Song Bunan, with oil smeared across his face, glanced at him in confusion and questioned why his brother would need to agree. "If he can bring someone home for my mom to see, then he's already someone who can be included in the family tree. Why would he disagree with me finding someone? If he has any objections, I would sincerely suggest he hire a lawyer to defend himself."
"What about your family?" Xin Yi sought a definitive answer to ease his mind.
Finally looking up after finishing his food, Song Bunan hesitated before speaking in a troubled tone. "My mom is fine with it; she has known I like guys for a while. It's my dad that's a bit tricky—he's somewhat old-fashioned and sees love between men as something that needs fixing. But it's not a big deal; I've defied him before over the years. Worst case, I'll just get scolded; he won't kick us out. Don't worry."
The latter part seemed like self-reassurance. After saying this, Song Bunan nodded vigorously as if giving himself a boost of confidence. Soon after, he appeared to remember something and repeatedly looked up at Xin Yi with a conflicted expression, pondering whether to speak but ultimately deciding against it. His contorted demeanor made Xin Yi feel uncomfortable.
"Just ask," Xin Yi couldn't hold back any longer. "Aren't couples supposed to be honest with each other?"
Caught in his intentions, Song Bunan awkwardly chuckled and shrank back slightly, resting his chin on the drink bottle as he murmured quietly, "Your profile says you joined Mighty Falcon at a young age and didn't mention any family situation. I haven't heard anything about it..."
"If there’s no one we need to visit over there, is there a grave we need to go to?"
Seeing Song Bunan's round face scrunch up as if about to burst into tears made Xin Yi understand what he was worried about. His situation was hardly a secret within Song Bunan's network of information; every time family-related topics came up, Xin Yi could sense that Song Bunan was deliberately avoiding discussing anything related to families. Now that he had mustered the courage to ask directly, it must mean he had decided to genuinely introduce him to his family.
Perhaps this was what some books referred to as a match made in heaven. A previously congested part of Xin Yi's heart suddenly opened up completely as he accepted this relationship wholeheartedly. Meeting Song Bunan's gaze earnestly, he replied:
"I have no relatives; I only have teammates in Mighty Falcon. As for graves or anything like that, I have none." Seeing him so candid clearly put Song Bunan at ease as well; he instantly returned to his lively self, quickly tidying up the plastic bags on the table while humming a tune as he headed to the kitchen.
Looking back, there had been people in his life who could be called "partners." But those individuals always carried motives that were difficult for others to understand. They thought him too cold and unromantic, disliked how work would often lead him to lose contact and updates, and held a strong aversion towards his "home," even commenting that it was less popular than a hotel.
Was Song Bunan being purposeful with him? Yes, but it was something he could understand. The other person possessed a fierce intelligence towards outsiders and a charming liveliness with those close to him. He was sincere, speaking his mind without holding back or making others guess. In many matters, he had his own insights that could provide assistance. Perhaps this mode of interaction was necessary between couples, or maybe it was simply how the two of them related to each other.
This was far more enjoyable than any past relationships, making him willing to live with the other person and gladly agree to cohabitation, accepting the warmth radiating from someone like a little sun.
His boss always seemed to have a strange yet accurate intuition about such matters. From the very beginning, when he commented on his jealousy towards Song Bunan, it seemed that every subsequent step was within his expectations. Upon learning that the two had confirmed their relationship and were officially living together, he didn’t ask many questions but simply reminded him not to forget about work. Later that night, he sent a message filled with cheerful banter.
It was nothing less than happiness—happiness that he finally had someone willing to build a family with him.
“Hey? Brother, what’s up?” The person in the kitchen suddenly answered the phone, continuing to chop vegetables without missing a beat. “I’m at home. Of course I’m at home; I’m chopping vegetables. How could I be lying? Don’t slander me! I went to the morning market at the community entrance today; round trip, I didn’t even walk a kilometer. How could I be at the store? Nonsense! Everything in my store has already been taken back; there’s nothing else I need to pick up. No way! I haven’t left the house today; after dinner, I’m going to take a nap and won’t go anywhere tonight—just staying home. Alright, you’re busy then.”
“You must be drunk.” The person hung up with a look of disdain, pinching his phone between two fingers as he walked out. “My brother suddenly said he passed by my store and thought he saw me inside getting something. Crazy! I clearly told him yesterday that I hadn’t left anything behind…”
The complainer abruptly fell silent, frowning as if recalling something. Xin Yi noticed his changing expression and responded, “Someone must be looking for you.”
Song Bunan shook his head, indicating that it was unlikely. He placed his phone on the table and pondered for a long while before speaking up: “They’re probably looking for a corpse.”
If that burned body was a test subject, it would make sense for them to go back searching for it. However, so many test subjects had disappeared over these days—why were they specifically looking for this one?
“There were four reported missing from that team, but given the circumstances at the time, their chances of survival are slim. If those missing individuals have already been modified, they would indeed make excellent weapons considering our physical strength,” Song Bunan said with a glint of fierceness in his eyes, chuckling darkly.
“Could it be that something went wrong with them?”
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