Having decided to take the competition seriously, Qiu Qiu increased his daily singing and instrument practice from one hour to one hour each morning and evening. He had a very clear analysis of himself: he knew he was a naturally gifted singer. Advancing relied not only on his excellent voice but also on his outstanding looks, which were a key bonus.
Fortunately, most contestants in the regional division were rather "amateurish." Holding a good hand of cards, Qiu Qiu felt confident about securing at least third place and moving up. However, beyond that... he would probably really need to rely on his godfather's influence to hire a good vocal coach for some proper lessons.
But that meant owing his godfather more money again. Qiu Qiu felt like the few hairs on his head were turning white from worry...
That evening, Fu Ruien had a business dinner and wouldn't be back for supper. After finishing his homework, Qiu Qiu sat on a high stool by the bar, cradling his guitar and strumming while practicing songs. On the table before him were several sheets of music—some were famous works by masters, others were little melodies Qiu Qiu had tried composing himself.
Qiu Qiu planned to stop singing pop songs if he made it to the national competition and instead perform his own compositions. However, he hadn't systematically studied composition or arrangement. He could happily write a dozen or so measures on a whim, but he just couldn't make the beginning and ending feel complete.
Writing a song was like writing an essay. While getting it all out in one go was great, repeated refinement was also necessary. Only such a work could withstand the test of time and deserve to be called "timeless."
It seemed he needed to learn from the experience of his predecessors—Zou Ji from the Warring States period was strikingly handsome. He looked in the mirror in the morning, compared his beauty to that of Lord Xu from the north of the city, and after his reflection, was inspired to enter the palace and satirically advise the King of Qi. Qiu Qiu decided he should learn from him. Looking in the mirror every day might just help him write a song.
He was just huffing and puffing, pen in hand, trying to fill in the score when suddenly there was noise from the front door.
"Godfather? You're back?" Qiu Qiu quickly put down his guitar and ran towards the door, completely unaware that his (metaphorical) tail was wagging.
He turned the corner in a few steps and then slammed on the brakes—it wasn't just Fu Ruien entering, but also his secretary and bodyguard.
Fu Ruien was frowning deeply, his face pale, three buttons of his shirt undone, the fabric completely soaked with sweat and clinging to his body. His bodyguard was supporting him by one arm, helping him walk slowly into the house. Behind Fu Ruien, the secretary carried his briefcase and suit jacket in one hand and a bag of medicine in the other, looking anxious.
Fu Ruien had a hand pressed against his stomach. Seeing Qiu Qiu come out to greet him, he greeted him back wearily.
Qiu Qiu hurried over and helped the bodyguard support Fu Ruien towards the living room.
Once Fu Ruien collapsed onto the sofa, Qiu Qiu busied himself fetching hot water and looking for brown sugar.
Seeing him flustered, Fu Ruien reminded him, "I have a stomach problem, not my period. Why are you looking for brown sugar?"
Qiu Qiu smacked his forehead. He was so used to taking care of his mother that whenever he saw someone holding their stomach, his first instinct was to force brown sugar water on them.
He poured a large cup of water, stuck out the tip of his tongue to test the temperature first, and then brought it to Fu Ruien's lips.
The secretary, accustomed to big storms and waves, didn't even raise an eyebrow at the Grey Wolf cartoon mug in Qiu Qiu's hand. He took out a few pills, carefully instructing Qiu Qiu on how many hours to wait before giving the boss another one.
Fu Ruien's gastritis was an old problem. When he was young and busy with work, he never ate on time and frequently attended business dinners. He had been rushed to the emergency room twice with stomach perforations. In recent years, he had been paying attention to his health and hadn't had a flare-up. Who would have thought that tonight's dinner, where he successfully closed a big deal, would lead him to celebrate a bit too happily, have a couple extra drinks, and collapse?
The illness was clearly in Fu Ruien's body, and he wasn't even that bothered yet, but Qiu Qiu's eyes were already turning red.
Fu Ruien had long known this kid was a little crybaby—he'd made him cry before by teasing him. He hadn't expected to see him shedding golden tears again today.
How could a boy's tears be so heart-wrenchingly endearing?
"People say young girls are made of water. What's with you crying at the drop of a hat?"
Qiu Qiu puffed out his cheeks with effort, making the dimples by his mouth appear. "Can't I be made of wine instead?"
Fine, fine, of course. Just looking at him every day was enough to make his godfather drunk.
Fu Ruien pulled him down to sit on the sofa beside him, used his palm to wipe away his tears, then shoved the water cup into his arms, coaxing him to go get another glass of water. Qiu Qiu's feet seemed to be fitted with wind-fire wheels. He ran to get it and ran back, not spilling a single drop of water.
The medicine worked quickly, and combined with Fu Ruien's usual attention to his health, he started to recover after about twenty minutes. Strength returned to his limbs, and his face wasn't as deathly pale as before.
The bodyguard wanted to help him back to the bedroom to rest. Fu Ruien shot Qiu Qiu a look, and Qiu Qiu immediately remembered the tent he had pitched on the bed.
Yikes!
Qiu Qiu quickly took over supporting Fu Ruien from the bodyguard, patting his chest and guaranteeing that he alone could carry his godfather back.
The dutiful bodyguard was just about to speak when the secretary quickly pulled him aside, signaling him not to say anything more.
Qiu Qiu didn't notice the silent exchange between the two. He carefully helped Fu Ruien into the bedroom, got him onto the bed, wet a towel, and wiped his face and hands.
Whether truly weak or just pretending, Fu Ruien leaned against the headboard, quietly watching Qiu Qiu bustle around him.
Seeing Fu Ruien's shirt drenched in sweat, Qiu Qiu urged him to change into pajamas.
Fu Ruien said, "I don't have the strength. You help me take it off."
They were both men, so the upright Qiu Qiu didn't overthink it at first. He leaned over, his fingers deftly working their way down Fu Ruien's shirt.
As each button was undone, the shirt naturally slid open along the curves of his body, inch by inch revealing Fu Ruien's well-proportioned, muscular physique.
Qiu Qiu held the damp towel and gently wiped away the sweat, but his movements became increasingly clumsy and uncoordinated. He didn't dare look up, his mind went blank, and his face instead flushed red.
Suddenly, Fu Ruien raised his hand and lightly pressed it over Qiu Qiu's.
Only then did Qiu Qiu realize he wasn't the only one so nervous his palms were sweating.
He looked up at Fu Ruien, bewildered and at a loss, soft like a block of freshly formed tofu that would fall apart at a touch. "...Godfather..."
Fu Ruien lowered his eyelids slightly and said in a low voice, "Go out and see off Xiao He and the others. I'll change into my pajamas myself."
Qiu Qiu felt as if granted a great pardon. In an instant, all the chaotic thoughts in his head vanished. His legs weak, his waist soft, he stood up from the bedside and walked out with his head down.
Behind him, Fu Ruien leaned against the headboard, watching the way he marched out of the bedroom in unison (arms and legs moving together), and smiled, feeling quite pleased.
...
In the living room, Secretary He Yu was lecturing the bodyguard.
"Are you an idiot? You still wanted to go into the boss's bedroom?"
"But I've taken him in before when he drank too much..."
"That was before! Now that Young Master Qiu has moved in, who knows what extra things are in that bedroom? The less you see, the longer you'll keep your job."
The bodyguard quickly nodded. "Thank you, Brother He."
Qiu Qiu happened to hear the last few sentences. His face, which hadn't cooled down yet, turned even redder. He stammered an explanation, "Secretary He, there's nothing in the bedroom, just an extra tent on the bed."
Oh, a "tent." Not one pitched on the bed, but one pitched between the boss's legs, right?
He Yu's eyes held a look that said, "You two really know how to play, it's okay, I understand."
Qiu Qiu really felt like he could die crashing into his guitar and still not be able to explain himself clearly.
Since Fu Ruien's place didn't have a guest room for them to stay overnight, Qiu Qiu couldn't ask them to remain. After seeing the secretary and bodyguards off, he returned to the living room to tidy up the books and guitar. He deliberately dawdled for quite a while, waiting until the blush had faded from the face of the person in the mirror, before finally going back to the bedroom.
Fu Ruien was already lying down but hadn't fallen asleep yet. The stomach pain had softened his usual imposing aura considerably.
Afraid of disturbing him, Qiu Qiu placed a glass of warm water by his bedside and said softly, "Well then... goodnight, Godfather."
The little squirrel Qiu Qiu tiptoed back into his own small tent. Having been busy running around all evening, he was exhausted and didn't have the heart to glance at his schoolwork before bed. He turned off the pendant light inside the tent, thinking he'd fall asleep quickly, but he tossed and turned in his sleeping bag, unable to summon any drowsiness.
Although he had turned off the tent light, the bedroom lights were still on. The dim bedside lamp illuminated a small patch of floor, its warm yellow light outlining Fu Ruien's figure.
Suddenly, Fu Ruien's figure moved.
Qiu Qiu watched as Fu Ruien sat up in bed and slowly moved over to the front of his tent.
"Knock, knock, knock," said the big bad wolf outside the tent. "Qiu Qiu, may I come in?"
Without a moment's delay, Qiu Qiu wriggled out of his sleeping bag and lifted the tent flap for Fu Ruien.
Qiu Qiu was accustomed to sleeping in just his underwear. His clean body was exposed before Fu Ruien for only a second before being swallowed back up by the sleeping bag.
Fu Ruien steadied himself, then crawled into Qiu Qiu's little tent.
This was Fu Ruien's first "formal visit" to Qiu Qiu's "room," so naturally he took a careful look around. The small tent was neat and orderly, with the pendant light and mosquito net properly hung. Qiu Qiu, wrapped in his sleeping bag, slept against the wall, and in the corner were the clothes he had changed out of, along with his phone and power bank. Everything was clean and tidy. Qiu Qiu was the most home-loving, domestically-inclined boy Fu Ruien had ever met.
The tent wasn't big, so with two adults inside, it was inevitable that their limbs would touch.
Fu Ruien reached out and poked the spot where Qiu Qiu's dimple would be, saying gently, "Qiu Qiu, I'm sorry. Godfather made you worry today."
Thinking of how pale Godfather's face had been from the pain earlier, Qiu Qiu's heart ached terribly. He said nervously, "...Godfather, you must live to be a hundred."
Fu Ruien was a bit confused, not understanding where this was coming from, and could only reply, "Mmm, and you too, Qiu Qiu."
"I don't need to. Living to eighty-one is enough for me."
"..." Fu Ruien was taken aback. His heart, which had been tempered countless times by time and worldly affairs, kept getting softened whenever he encountered Qiu Qiu.
Amused, he pulled Qiu Qiu over, hugging him through the sleeping bag, and couldn't resist kissing his little dimple.
Qiu Qiu blushed as he was kissed, hesitated for two seconds, then turned his head to the side.
Fu Ruien thought he was unwilling to have his 'tofu' eaten, but to his surprise, Qiu Qiu urged in a small voice, "The... the other side too."
So Fu Ruien gently kissed his left cheek as well.
The two of them lay in the tent, shoulder to shoulder, chatting softly all night. Later, Qiu Qiu drowsily fell asleep, his head resting on Fu Ruien's arm, his whole body buried in his godfather's embrace.
—After "cohabiting" for so long, Fu Ruien had finally successfully "stayed the night."
