Chapter 63

Shudu's lips curved into a slow, deliberate smirk as he leaned against Xue Tuzi, his breath ghosting over the latter's neck. His voice dropped to a husky whisper, "I'd love to eat your dumplings." His sharp canines gleamed like polished ivory under the dim, flickering light of the kitchen, adding an almost feral edge to his grin. Xue Tuzi, unfazed, ignored the blatant provocation and grabbed a bowl, his movements precise and controlled as he began ladling steaming dumplings into it.

Shudu's predatory gaze roved lazily over Xue Tuzi, lingering at every curve and angle of his form until his eyes unapologetically landed on a more intimate area. Before his wandering hands could act on his thoughts, Xue Tuzi abruptly shoved the steaming bowl of dumplings into his face. Shudu's smirk faltered, replaced by a small frown as the heat from the bowl's rising steam curled into his nose. He took the bowl, his fingers brushing against Xue Tuzi's briefly, but the latter had already turned away, uninterested. 

Xue Tuzi served himself without sparing Shudu another glance and made his way to the table where Jiao Jiao, the little Gu worm, was perched. The tiny creature eagerly slurped at his soup but recoiled almost immediately, its round, bug-like eyes welling with tears as it waved its little nubs in distress.

"Xiao Jiao," Xue Tuzi sighed, his tone soft with exasperation as he placed a cool cloth against the creature's burning mouth. "I told you it was hot. You must be more careful." His hand lingered gently on the Gu worm's tiny head, and with a flicker of tenderness, he pressed a reassuring kiss to it.

Shudu's eyes narrowed, a flicker of something unreadable flashing across his face as he watched Xue Tuzi fuss over Jiao Jiao with a care so precise it felt intimate. His gaze followed every movement as Xue Tuzi dipped his spoon into Jiao Jiao's bowl, brought it to his lips, and blew on the contents. The small mole at the corner of Xue Tuzi's mouth seemed to highlight the fullness of his lips as he cooled the dumpling soup with meticulous patience before offering it to Jiao Jiao.

"Here," Xue Tuzi murmured as the Gu worm eagerly bobbed its head, opening its tiny mouth for the next spoonful. The sternness in Xue Tuzi's gaze softened further, giving way to a faint chuckle as he teased, "You're such a glutton." Another spoonful followed, cooled and delivered with the same gentle care.

Shudu's smirk returned, curling wider as he glanced down at his own now-empty bowl. He had wolfed down the dumplings without even pausing to savor them, the taste forgotten in the face of his other appetites. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he sneered lazily, "Those other dumplings would've been better."

His eyes glinted with mischief, their meaning unmistakable as they locked onto Xue Tuzi. The latter, unbothered, merely rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to Jiao Jiao.

"Who taught you how to make them?" Shudu asked, his deep, unblinking eyes fixed on Xue Tuzi. His gaze was steady, almost predatory, as though he could strip away every layer of clothes with just a look. Xue Tuzi ignored the weight of it as he took a deliberate, unhurried bite of his dumpling. The juice spilled from the delicate skin, trailing down his lips and gathering at the sensual mole nestled at the bottom corner of his mouth.

Xue Tuzi felt the intensity of Shudu's stare and finally looked up, his eyes sharp but guarded, their edges softened by the thick fringe of his lashes. "My Gege taught me," he answered quietly, his voice calm but laced with a faint note of nostalgia. His gaze flickered back to the bowl in his hands as he added, "I liked eating Gege's dumplings." His lashes brushed against his cheekbones, and for a moment, the light of the kitchen cast delicate shadows over his face, highlighting his restrained expression.

Shudu's lip curled, a scoff escaping him as he leaned back, his posture languid yet brimming with disdain. "Your mind is so filthy," Xue Tuzi remarked, his tone laced with annoyance and disgust. The corner of his mouth twitched as he caught the double meaning lurking in Shudu's words.

Xue Tuzi blinked, his brows pulling together in sudden exasperation. The realization of Shudu's insinuation dawned on him, and a faint flush of irritation rose to his face. "We didn't have much at the orphanage…" he began, his voice quieter now, tinged with a sense of defensiveness as he looked away from Shudu's smirking face. His grip on the bowl tightened slightly as the memory resurfaced, unbidden and vivid.

Xue Tuzi remembered the first time he laid eyes on the young, handsome man who had come to the orphanage to help prepare food for the New Year celebration. He had never seen anyone so striking, so radiant. The man's long black hair was swept up into a high bun, glossy and perfectly kept, without a single strand out of place. His robes were impeccably clean, free of the dirt and wear that seemed to cling to everything at the orphanage. But it wasn't just his appearance that captivated Xue Tuzi—it was the warmth in his gentle eyes, the way they softened as he followed the monks into the kitchen area, a quiet presence amidst the bustling preparations.

Starstruck and barefoot, his small body filthy from the grime of orphanage life, trailed behind the man like a shadow, careful to stay out of sight. He peeked into the kitchen and found him seated at a worn wooden table, deftly folding dumpling after dumpling. His movements were precise yet unhurried, his long fingers twisting and shaping the dough with care. A gentle melody hummed from his lips, filling the space with a soothing rhythm that made Xue Tuzi's chest ache with longing.

"What's your name, little one?" the man asked, his voice soft and tender, as though speaking louder might shatter the fragile moment. He didn't lift his gaze from the dumplings, his focus unwavering as he continued to work.

Xue Tuzi startled, letting out a small shriek before darting behind a wooden pillar, his heart hammering in his chest. He peeked out cautiously, stealing glances at the man, who hadn't stopped his steady rhythm. Dumpling after dumpling, he sweetly twisted each one into delicate knots before placing them onto a bamboo steamer. The warm aroma of freshly prepared dough and spices wafted through the air, curling into Xue Tuzi's nose and making his stomach rumble audibly.

The man paused for a moment, his hands slowing as he glanced over his shoulder, catching sight of the little child peeking around the pillar. A soft chuckle escaped his lips, the sound low and comforting. "Come now, I don't bite," he said, his voice carrying the same tenderness as before. His phoenix-shaped eyes, tilted just slightly at the corners, held a hint of sorrow despite his smile. When his gaze dipped, his thick lashes brushed against his cheeks, shadowing his expression in a way that made him seem almost otherworldly.

Hesitant and unsure, Xue Tuzi stepped forward, his small hands clutching at the edges of his tattered, dirt-stained robe. His tangled hair fell in uneven clumps around his face, and his bare feet, covered in grime, shuffled against the cold stone floor. He kept his head low, biting his chapped lower lip as shame burned hot in his chest. How could someone as filthy and insignificant as him dare to approach such a radiant, ethereal figure?

The young man noticed his hesitation and set down the dumpling he'd been shaping. Without a word, he reached for a cloth, dipping it into a nearby bowl of water. Rising from his seat, he crossed the room with calm, measured steps and crouched before Xue Tuzi. Gently, he took the boy's chin in his hand, tilting his face upward.

With careful, deliberate motions, he wiped away the layers of grime on Xue Tuzi's face. The coolness of the damp cloth against his skin made Xue Tuzi flinch at first, but the man's touch was so gentle, so unlike anything he'd ever known, that he soon relaxed. For the first time, Xue Tuzi could see his reflection in the man's kind, sorrow-tinged eyes. 

"What's your name?" the young man asked softly, his brows knitting together in concern as he continued wiping the grime from the child's face with a cloth. His touch was gentle, but there was a firmness to his movements, wiping away the layers of dirt.

"I—I don't have a name," Xue Tuzi stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. His wide, dark eyes remained locked on the young man, a mixture of awe and vulnerability swimming within them.

The young man's hands paused for a moment as he absorbed the boy's response, a flicker of shock crossing his otherwise composed face. "No name?" he repeated softly, almost to himself. Then, after a brief hesitation, he asked, "And how old are you?"

"I—I don't know," Xue Tuzi mumbled, his voice quivering with shame. He averted his gaze, unable to meet the young man's kind yet piercing eyes.

The man sighed, his gentle wiping growing momentarily more forceful as he tried to clean a persistent smudge near the corner of Xue Tuzi's bottom lip. The child flinched, jerking his face away as the young man suddenly stopped, his hand frozen mid-air. Realization dawned in his eyes, and his stern expression softened instantly.

"I see… It's a birthmark," he murmured, his tone apologetic. Lowering his hand, he carefully cupped the child's face, his thumb brushing lightly over the mole he had mistaken for dirt. "My apologies."

His lips curved into a faint smile as he straightened, stepping back to appraise the child. "Well, Xiao Haizi needs a name, does he not?" he said with a quiet chuckle. Without waiting for an answer, he scooped the child up effortlessly, his strong arms cradling Xue Tuzi's slight frame as he set him down onto a nearby wooden chair.

"Are you hungry?" the young man asked.

Xue Tuzi nodded vigorously, his little legs swinging as his dirt-streaked feet dangled off the edge of the chair.

The young man sighed softly, almost indulgently, and reached for a steaming dumpling from the bamboo steamer. Bringing it close to his lips, he blew on it gently, the steam curling away like wisps of cloud. "It's hot," he warned, his voice low and soothing.

Xue Tuzi parted his lips eagerly, revealing a few missing teeth. The young man guided the dumpling into the child's mouth, his motions careful, as though he feared the child might break under too much force.

The explosion of flavor lit up Xue Tuzi's face. He licked his lips, savoring every bit, his wide eyes shining as they begged silently for more. The young man chuckled softly, unable to resist the child's earnest expression, and continued feeding him one dumpling after another, each one cooled with the same patient care.

By the time Xue Tuzi's belly was full and round, he leaned back against the chair with a contented sigh. The young man placed the bowl firmly down on the table. "No more," he said sternly, though his tone remained warm.

Xue Tuzi's doe-like eyes widened in protest, his lips pouting and brows furrowing in a feeble attempt to sway the man's resolve. But the young man was unmoved.

"No more," he repeated firmly, his lips quirking at the child's obvious displeasure.

Seeing his efforts fail, Xue Tuzi puffed his cheeks indignantly, his narrow eyes shooting a glare toward the man as he walked away with the bowl. Before he could sulk for too long, he felt a gentle poke against his swollen belly.

"You're quite the little glutton," the young man teased, his voice laced with humor. "Perhaps your name should be Xiao Pangzi."

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he raised a hand to cover his smile, watching the child's face twist into an exaggerated frown.

"No…" Xue Tuzi whined, dragging the word out as he shook his head. "It's too ugly."

The young man's laughter spilled over, bright and melodic, filling the kitchen with warmth. "Alright, then," he said, kneeling down so they were eye level. 

He lowered his hand, his eyes widening slightly as he smiled. "Oh… and what should we name you?"

Xue Tuzi fidgeted, his small, dirt-covered feet scuffing the ground as he looked down shyly, avoiding the man's gaze. The young man crouched before him, his elegant hand reaching out to gently pat the child's matted hair. Tilting the boy's chin up with two fingers, he asked softly, "What's your favorite animal?"

Xue Tuzi's dark eyes, wide and brimming with admiration, locked onto the young man's face. "I… I don't have one," he said quietly, his voice tinged with sadness.

The man's smile faltered for a moment, a shadow of pity crossing his features. Without hesitation, he scooped the boy up into his arms, cradling him effortlessly as he carried him outside. The cool evening air brushed against their skin as they stepped into the courtyard, where a small rabbit darted across the worn stone path, its nose twitching curiously before disappearing into the nearby bushes.

"Hmmm… how about a bunny?" the young man mused, glancing down at the child nestled against him. Xue Tuzi, overwhelmed by the man's warmth and presence, buried his face into his chest.

The scent of the young man was intoxicating—sweet, floral, and clean, a fragrance entirely unfamiliar to Xue Tuzi, who closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, wanting to memorize it.

A soft chuckle broke through his reverie. "You're a dirty little bunny now… but after a bath, you'll be Xue Tuzi."

Xue Tuzi's head lifted, his gaze meeting the man's smiling, tender eyes. The warmth in them made his chest swell with an unfamiliar but comforting feeling. "Xue Tuzi," the young man repeated, as though testing the name on his tongue. "Do you like it?"

The boy nodded timidly, his voice barely above a whisper as he mumbled, "Gongzi, what is your name?"

The young man's smile softened further, his phoenix eyes glimmering with quiet affection. "You can call me Gege."