Chapter 17 - Early Discovery Means Early Treatment
When he said the first two parts, Sun Zinan had been quite moved; after hearing the nonsense that followed, he quipped coldly, “Professor Tang, you really have the nerve.”
His tone was very threatening, but it didn’t have much impact spoken from within the other’s embrace.
Tang Kai laughed lowly. “With your physique, you can’t even run that fast. I wouldn’t be at ease sending you to steal electric cars.”
Sun Zinan, “Go to hell.”
Tang Kai’s body held the warm and dry fragrance of wood. This scent had already become his signature impression, and gave others an indescribable sense of security.
Sun Zinan had never considered relying on someone else before. He was usually the one others relied upon. His complicated family relationships and job destined him to a life of undertaking his burdens alone. This was something he had been accustomed to since early on and had become a second nature.
But Tang Kai’s appearance had changed his regular routine. Sun Zinan had lived for almost thirty years, yet this was the first time he had experienced the power of a boyfriend.
Leaving aside his outward appearance, Tang Kai’s greatest strength lay in his willingness to continue walking the same path as him, even though he knew the road ahead was not a smooth one.
Sun Zinan lay on his side. The big bed felt stable and welcoming, but he had the illusion he was slowly sinking into it.
Perhaps he had already fallen into it and hadn’t noticed; there was no escape.
“All right, do you feel reassured now?” Tang Kai reached over and turned off the bedside lamp. He lowered his voice and soothed, “I’m here with you, don’t be afraid, let’s sleep.”
Sun Zinan followed the sound of his voice and closed his eyes.
He actually managed to sleep decently throughout the night, despite not being used to it as it was his first time sleeping with someone else in the same bed. Tang Kai slept very quietly and didn’t move a lot. He didn’t bother Sun Zinan very much. Yet Tang Kai obviously slept somewhat lightly; when Sun Zinan woke up once in the middle of the night and sleepily, hazily wanted to turn over, the movement alerted Tang Kai and Sun Zinan found himself wrapped gently back into his embrace.
He didn’t understand at first and only suddenly remembered in the depths of his sleep-induced thoughts a common point: people with heart issues should lie facing the right to avoid compressing the heart.
Within the dim bedroom, he could hardly trace the outline of the deeply sleeping man and could only hear the sound of his uniform and even breathing, like the tide of the ocean, beating against his ears wave after wave.
The color of the night was so tender.
Sun Zinan woke up first the next day. The sleeping postures of the two had not changed but the two quilts had become entangled into one. His pajama pants had rolled up, revealing his bare ankles pressed against Tang Kai’s calves. His skin was warmly flushed; when he lifted his head, he gazed up at his tall, straight nose and long lashes.`
Sun Zinan felt a somewhat indescribable abashment. Perhaps he himself hadn’t thought he’d ‘cross the line,’ so he quietly withdrew his legs back under his quilt.
Along with his movements, Tang Kai quickly woke up. He wasn’t quite lucid yet, and unconsciously reached out to encircle Sun Zinan back into his embrace. He asked drowsily, “Awake?”
Sun Zinan felt like his chest was a little stifled, and he patted at the arm across his waist. “Come on, let me get out of bed. You can keep sleeping, it’s still early.”
It seemed that Tang Kai was actually sleepy; he did whatever he was told and obediently moved his hand away. Sun Zinan lifted his quilt up and got out of bed to wash up. After he had cleaned everything up and pushed the door open, he saw Tang Kai hugging the blankets with a head full of messy hair, sitting blankly on the bed like a small child.
He looked up at the sound of the door opening, and asked Sun Zinan, “Morning, how do you feel? Any discomfort?”
In this situation, these words didn’t sound quite right no matter how one looked at it. Sun Zinan had recovered his spirits and was once again a lively, mischievous person. He leaned against the doorframe and replied, “Morning, not uncomfortable at all. You served me well last night.”
Tang Kai, “...”
Firing ridiculous words this early in the morning—could this man get any worse?
“Thanks.” He said expressionlessly, “You were excellent as well.”
They both turned their heads and laughed for a while.
Sun Zinan walked over to pinch Tang Kai’s face and peeled at his messy bedhead. As he urged him to wash up, he thought to himself that it was really impossible to take off this pink filter after wearing it for so long. He even thought Tang Kai’s current, slightly bullied look was pretty cute.
The two of them left the Sun family before 8 o’clock. Tang Kai drove him to the hospital for a checkup. Because they didn’t know the specifics of the checks, they didn’t eat breakfast to retain an empty stomach for any potential scans. Sun Zinan was afraid Tang Kai would have low blood pressure from not eating and told him to buy something small on the way to take the edge off his hunger. Comrade Tang Kai, however, had the pure spirit of sharing joys and sorrows, and insisted on waiting for him to finish his checkup so they could eat together.
Fortunately, results were released quickly in private hospitals. The electrocardiogram and color doppler imaging showed nothing wrong with the heart, and the chest x-ray didn’t have any abnormalities. The doctor finally found a possibility from his medical history: Sun Zinan had a weak body since childhood and had had bronchitis and pneumonia before. His lung functions had not developed well and he did not exercise often. His pulmonary flow reserve was not functioning properly—when his emotions were intensely stimulated, breathing would become a struggle.
In short, it wasn’t a serious illness, but his lack of physical activity and the special circumstances had caused yesterday’s symptoms.
At last, Tang Kai’s teetering heart finally calmed down and sank back into his stomach. Sun Zinan thanked the doctor. When he came out of the hospital, he decided to take half the work day off. In order to soothe Tang Kai’s worried heart, he brought him along for some dim sum.
Sun Zinan returned to work in the afternoon and Tang Kai went back to campus. When he had time, he called his father to report the chaotic events of the previous night. Tang Zhenhua was an experienced man and this wasn’t the first time he had witnessed something like this. He confidently expressed that he would take care of it, then casually asked how his ‘daughter-in-law’ was doing.
After listening to Tang Kai’s objective, scientific, and unexaggerated description, he sighed. “Little Sun is a good kid, he has a clear conscience. Go comfort him some more. It’s not a big deal, so don’t let him take it to heart.”
He continued, “Remember to get a checkup at the hospital. Fainting from anger while calling your name is something TV dramas don’t even show anymore. I think you’ve been too burnt-out—early discovery means early treatment. Don’t be shy about going to the doctor.”
Tang Kai, “...”
The PhD student who had come into his office to hand in his report suddenly felt a surge of killing intent through the door. Frightened, he quickly crossed his chest and clasped the prayer beads in his hand, silently praying that the two lines of data he fabricated would never be discovered by his boss.
After he got off work that evening, Tang Kai rejected Sun Zinan’s offer to drive over and pick him up. He drove back to his place by himself. Sun Zinan arrived home earlier than he did and Tang Kai opened the door to discover him cooking in the kitchen.
“Didn’t I say to rest? Put that down, I’ll do it.” Tang Kai set his bag down and was about to enter the kitchen when Sun Zinan turned around and pointed at him with a spatula.
“It’s just making a meal, I won’t die. Get out, did you wash your hands before running to the kitchen?”
Like a little daughter-in-law berated by her husband’s mother, Professor Tang went to wash his hands, feeling rather wronged.
Sun Zinan poured the stir-fried shiitake mushrooms and shrimp from his pan over blanched vegetables. The dish was a bright red, steaming in the heat, absolutely enticing. The sweet and sour spare ribs contained in the pan beside it had just soaked enough in its juices. It was placed onto another plate and served along with the first dish. He didn’t bother with making a soup tonight and just made two types of steamed eggs.
Summer was the best time for cooking sweet and sour foods. They were refreshing without the greasiness. Anyways, unpalatable food did not exist in Tang Kai’s mouth. Sun Zinan could only evaluate the quality of the food by himself and felt quite satisfied. He picked up a vegetable from the plate and placed it in Tang Kai’s bowl. “Do you know what this is?”
“Bok choy?” Tang Kai took a close look and felt that it was different from the common type of bok choy—its stalks were thicker and the roots were more swollen, like a small, round hammer. “A different variety of bok choy?”
Sun Zinan replied, “It’s from the same family as you, called xiao tang cai.”
Tang Kai mistakenly thought he was talking about ‘sugar vegetables’ and was a little doubtful. “Why is it called sugar vegetables, it’s not sweet.”
Sun Zinan, “Puahahaha...”
Tang Kai’s head was full of fog. “En? What’s so funny?”
“You’re right, it’s not sweet.” Sun Zinan was laughing so hard the tips of his chopsticks were trembling. “You’re the one who’s sweet.”
Under the sound of his laughter, Tang Kai’s face went red in doubt.
“Act a bit more dignified,” he said solemnly. “Don’t be so confident because you’ve already have me. Eat your food properly.”
Sun Zinan almost choked from laughter.
After dinner, Tang Kai volunteered to put the dishes into the dishwasher. While Sun Zinan chopped and prepped in the kitchen, Tang Kai curiously scooted over in an endearing way. “What are you making?”
Sun Zinan, “Making two baskets of steamed buns, changing up the taste. Aren’t you sick of eating toast and eggs every morning?”
Tang Kai’s admiration for Sun Zinan suddenly rose to a whole new level. “You even know how to make steamed buns?”
Sun Zinan didn’t think before bragging and immediately opened his mouth to say, “Not only that—prepping and cooking, the eight great cuisines, bread and desserts, I’m fully well versed in all of them.”
Tang Kai was thoroughly convinced and clapped enthusiastically. “How amazing!”
“Ahem.” Sun Zinan had not expected this silly child would actually believe in him and hurriedly changed the subject. “You’ve lived abroad for a pretty long time too, why didn’t you learn how to cook?”
“I tried,” Tang Kai admitted honestly, “But they thought I was making a small nuclear reactor and wouldn’t let me into the kitchen.”
“...Okay.”
Sun Zinan was deeply impressed by the scientific and technological expert Professor Tang.
In fact, he already had a vague feeling that Tang Kai had eaten too many meals at the school canteen, which would explain his often unusual dish suggestions. Something like chicken stewed with egg tofu was considered fairly acceptable, but he would sometimes ask if sweet potatoes could be stir-fried with bamboo shoots or if seaweed could be stewed with pumpkin.
“What about you?” Tang Kai asked, “Did you also learn cooking while studying abroad?”
Sun Zinan, “En.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
Tang Kai thought for a bit, and said tactfully, “I thought you wouldn’t be distracted by such daily basics.”
A young master like Sun Zinan would have been looked after since childhood. He could obtain any chef he wanted and he wasn’t even a person who had much of an appetite. Why would he go down to the kitchen himself?
Sun Zinan understood what he meant but didn’t feel offended. However, he recalled the past and let out a sigh. “I didn’t learn it on purpose...I guess I was bored and had nothing to do at that time.”
Sun Ying had sent him abroad before he had even turned eighteen. He was a stranger in a foreign place with no friends or family; when he entered adulthood, his peers were chasing their ideals in life while he was the only one left bewildered, not knowing where he stood nor where to go in the future.
Sometimes, Sun Zinan felt like he was a puppet tethered by strings, his freedom in the hands of others, unqualified to even resist and much less capable of controlling his own life.
Amidst the confusion and perplexities that surrounded him, he had nowhere to settle down and the uncertainty drove his life into a deep depression. Fortunately, Sun Zinan had still retained some of his senses and was rather alert to his condition. He immediately went to see a psychiatrist when he realized he often had these thoughts. It took him about two years of medication and therapy to slowly find the light at the end of the tunnel.
Cooking was a hobby he had picked up to relieve his anxiety when he was suffering. The world was unpredictable and unruly, but oil, salt, ginger, vinegar, and the heat of the fire—these were things he could control.
As he gradually mastered his abilities and became familiar with cooking, he also slowly recovered his sense of authority over his own life. He finally understood, accepted, and faced a world he would never be able to completely control.