The Dinner Table
By the time He Qing and Lu Wenyuan returned to the shrine, the sky had darkened completely.
The lantern hanging beside the gate cast a warm circle of light onto the stone path.
For a moment, both men slowed their steps.
The smell reached them first.
Fresh rice.
Vegetables.
Soup.
And something lightly fried.
Simple food.
Ordinary food.
Yet after a long day, it felt strangely comforting.
He Qing immediately brightened.
"Mr. Taller Shen!"
His voice echoed through the courtyard.
"I'm starving!"
A pause.
Then Shen Qiyao's voice came from inside.
"That is your normal state."
He Qing looked offended.
"I have many states."
"You do."
"See?"
"Unfortunately."
The reply arrived so calmly that Lu Wenyuan almost laughed.
He Qing gasped dramatically.
"Did you hear that?"
Lu Wenyuan nodded.
"I did."
"He insulted me."
"He did."
"Betrayal."
"Indeed."
Satisfied that someone finally understood him, He Qing marched toward the dining room.
Shen Qiyao was already arranging dishes on the table.
For a brief moment, he looked up.
His gaze moved between the two.
Then paused.
A small crease appeared between his brows.
Something was different.
He Qing immediately noticed.
"What?"
Shen Qiyao looked away.
"Nothing."
"That was a lie."
"It wasn't."
"It was."
Lu Wenyuan quietly sat down.
A faint smile appeared.
"A-Yuan."
"Hm."
"They've been arguing like this the entire time, haven't they?"
Shen Qiyao was silent.
Which was answer enough.
He Qing pointed triumphantly.
"See?"
Unfortunately, nobody knew what he was proving.
The table soon filled with food.
Three bowls.
Three pairs of chopsticks.
Three cups.
The scene felt unexpectedly natural.
Almost as though Lu Wenyuan had always been there.
That realization surprised Shen Qiyao more than he cared to admit.
For years, this shrine had remained unchanged.
Quiet.
Predictable.
Simple.
Now, within a few days, everything felt different.
Across the table, He Qing was already reaching for food.
"Wait."
His hand froze.
Shen Qiyao pointed.
"Rice first."
He Qing stared.
"You noticed?"
"I always notice."
Slowly, He Qing withdrew his hand.
Muttering something about unreasonable rules.
Lu Wenyuan watched the exchange.
Then unexpectedly laughed.
"A-Yuan."
"Hm."
"You sound exactly like Old Tutor Zhao."
The room fell silent.
For a moment, Shen Qiyao actually looked offended.
"That is an insult."
"No, it isn't."
"It absolutely is."
"It isn't."
"It is."
He Qing looked between them.
Then suddenly grinned.
"Good."
Both men turned toward him.
"Now there are two people arguing with Mr. Taller Shen."
The smile disappeared from Shen Qiyao's face immediately.
Lu Wenyuan nearly choked on his tea.
"That's your conclusion?"
"Of course."
He Qing sounded completely sincere.
"The balance has finally been restored."
"No balance was required."
"That's exactly what a tyrant would say."
"A tyrant?"
"Yes."
"A tyrant who cooks for you."
"..."
"A tyrant who gives you a place to live."
"..."
"A tyrant who prevents you from drinking excessive amounts of wine."
The silence grew longer.
Finally He Qing lowered his head.
"I dislike how strong your arguments are."
Lu Wenyuan laughed.
Properly laughed.
The sound filled the room.
For a brief moment, Shen Qiyao found himself staring.
The expression felt familiar.
So familiar that it hurt slightly.
Years ago, before everything had changed, laughter like this had been common.
Shared meals.
Shared conversations.
Ordinary evenings.
The memory appeared unexpectedly.
Then vanished just as quickly.
Across the table, He Qing was still complaining.
"One day I'll gain the upper hand."
"No."
"One day."
"No."
"Eventually."
"No."
Lu Wenyuan shook his head.
"A-Yuan always wins."
The confidence in his voice was immediate.
Absolute.
As though this was simply a fact of life.
He Qing frowned.
"You sound very certain."
"I've known him for twenty years."
The answer arrived naturally.
Without thought.
Yet the moment the words left his mouth, the room became slightly quieter.
Twenty years.
The number lingered.
For the first time, He Qing truly realized how much of Shen Qiyao's life existed beyond the shrine.
Beyond the mountains.
Beyond everything he knew.
Shen Qiyao lowered his gaze toward his bowl.
Lu Wenyuan seemed to realize what he had said.
A faint shadow crossed his expression.
Fortunately, He Qing rescued the conversation immediately.
"So."
Both men looked up.
"When Mr. Taller Shen was young..."
A dangerous smile appeared.
"...was he embarrassing?"
Shen Qiyao closed his eyes.
Slowly.
Very slowly.
"No."
"He absolutely was."
Lu Wenyuan answered before anyone else could.
He Qing's eyes lit up.
The excitement was immediate.
Shameless.
Pure.
Shen Qiyao suddenly regretted allowing either of them near wine.
Very deeply.
And judging by the matching expressions across the table—
things were about to become significantly worse.
The wine was opened.
That, Shen Qiyao thought, had been his first mistake.
Allowing Lu Wenyuan and He Qing to sit together had been the second.
Allowing them wine had been the third.
The evening only continued deteriorating from there.
The small jar sat between them on the table.
Three cups.
Three people.
And unfortunately for Shen Qiyao, two of them had suddenly discovered a shared interest.
That interest was embarrassing him.
"A-Yuan climbed a tree once."
He Qing immediately looked up.
Shen Qiyao closed his eyes.
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
Lu Wenyuan looked completely innocent.
"Would you like to hear the story?"
"I would."
"Good."
Shen Qiyao silently questioned every decision that had led him to this moment.
Across the table, He Qing leaned forward.
"A tree?"
"A very tall tree."
"What happened?"
"A-Yuan insisted a kitten was trapped."
The answer came immediately.
He Qing nodded.
"That sounds like him."
"It does."
Lu Wenyuan lifted his cup.
"He climbed halfway up."
"A reasonable beginning."
"Then the kitten climbed down by itself."
The room fell silent.
He Qing blinked.
Then blinked again.
"...What?"
"The kitten climbed down."
"And Mr. Taller Shen?"
"Still remained in the tree."
He Qing slowly turned.
Shen Qiyao calmly continued eating.
As though this conversation had absolutely nothing to do with him.
"What happened next?"
"A-Yuan discovered he was considerably better at climbing up than climbing down."
The silence lasted exactly one heartbeat.
Then He Qing burst out laughing.
The sound nearly shook the room.
"You got stuck?!"
"No."
"You absolutely got stuck."
"No."
"A-Yuan."
Lu Wenyuan looked disappointed.
"You were rescued by three servants and a gardener."
He Qing nearly fell sideways.
His laughter became completely uncontrollable.
For the next several minutes, every time he looked at Shen Qiyao, he started laughing again.
Shen Qiyao deeply regretted everything.
The wine disappeared steadily.
Not enough to make anyone drunk.
Just enough to soften the edges of memory.
Eventually the laughter faded.
Lu Wenyuan's expression softened.
"A-Yuan was always bringing injured animals home."
Immediately He Qing stopped laughing.
"Really?"
"Constantly."
The older man smiled faintly.
"Birds."
"Rabbits."
"Once a fox."
"A fox?"
"A very angry fox."
That sounded exactly like something Shen Qiyao would do.
Lu Wenyuan rested his cup on the table.
"The servants eventually stopped asking questions."
The lantern light flickered softly.
"He'd simply appear carrying some wounded creature."
"And then spend days taking care of it."
He Qing glanced toward Shen Qiyao.
The image was easy to imagine.
Too easy.
"You never told me that."
"You never asked."
The answer came calmly.
"That's unfair."
"Life is unfair."
He Qing narrowed his eyes.
"You sound very pleased with yourself."
"Mn."
The response arrived immediately.
For some reason, that made Lu Wenyuan laugh harder than anything else had.
The atmosphere continued warming.
One story became another.
Then another.
The years between them gradually shrinking.
"A-Yuan hated poetry gatherings."
"What?"
"He hated them."
"No, he didn't."
Lu Wenyuan looked shocked.
"I was there."
"So was I."
"You attended because Father ordered it."
"That isn't the point."
"It is exactly the point."
He Qing looked between them.
Then pointed.
"You hated them?"
"They were loud."
That sounded entirely reasonable.
"He spent most of his time escaping."
Lu Wenyuan added helpfully.
"I did not."
"You climbed out a window."
Once.
"You stole a horse."
Once."
"You hid in a library."
"A perfectly acceptable location."
The answer arrived without hesitation.
He Qing laughed again.
The image felt impossible.
Every version of young A-Yuan sounded strangely alive.
Mischievous.
Kind.
Human.
Not the distant figure He Qing had unconsciously imagined whenever people spoke of Shen Qiyao's past.
For a while, the stories continued.
Some funny.
Some ridiculous.
Some surprisingly gentle.
Then gradually—
The tone changed.
Not abruptly.
Just naturally.
Like a river turning course.
Lu Wenyuan's smile softened.
"There was a winter..."
The room quieted.
"A-Yuan spent almost three months preparing a gift."
Shen Qiyao lowered his cup.
The memory returned instantly.
"He was eleven."
The older man laughed quietly.
"And absolutely refused help."
He Qing rested his chin on one hand.
"What kind of gift?"
"A scarf."
The answer surprised him.
"A scarf?"
"An extremely ugly scarf."
"It was not ugly."
"It looked like a wounded snake."
The room fell silent.
Then He Qing started laughing again.
Even Shen Qiyao looked offended.
"It was perfectly acceptable."
"It was tragic."
"It served its purpose."
"It frightened several servants."
Eventually, Lu Wenyuan's laughter softened.
"He made it for his mother."
The words settled gently between them.
And suddenly—
Nobody laughed.
The room became quiet.
The lantern continued burning.
Outside, the bamboo leaves whispered softly against the night wind.
For several moments, no one spoke.
Then Lu Wenyuan smiled.
A small one.
Warm.
"He carried it everywhere for weeks."
Shen Qiyao looked down at his cup.
The memory hurt.
But not in the way it once had.
More like touching an old scar.
Something that still existed.
Yet no longer bled.
Across the table, He Qing remained unusually quiet.
He didn't ask questions.
Didn't push.
Didn't joke.
For some reason, that silence felt kinder than words.
The wine continued disappearing.
Slowly.
Comfortably.
The night deepened.
And eventually—
He Qing's responses began arriving later than usual.
"Aren't you listening?"
"I am."
"You answered the wrong question."
"...Did I?"
"Yes."
"Oh."
Several moments passed.
Then:
"What was the question?"
Lu Wenyuan laughed.
Shen Qiyao sighed.
The signs were becoming familiar.
Very familiar.
He Qing blinked slowly.
Then yawned.
Then immediately denied doing so.
"I wasn't tired."
"You are."
"No."
"You are."
"No."
His head dipped.
Rose again.
Dipped once more.
"A little."
The confession came reluctantly.
The lantern light painted soft shadows across his face.
The wine hadn't made him drunk.
Only sleepy.
Comfortable.
Safe.
For reasons he didn't entirely understand, Lu Wenyuan found himself smiling.
The scene felt strangely peaceful.
Like something precious.
Like something A-Yuan had needed for a very long time.
Across the table, He Qing blinked again.
Then stared at absolutely nothing.
For nearly a full minute.
"...He Qing."
No response.
"...He Qing."
A blink.
Then:
"Hm?"
"You were asleep."
"I was listening."
"You were dreaming."
"Maybe."
The answer came honestly.
Which somehow made it worse.
And as the night continued slipping quietly toward midnight, even the stories began slowing.
Not ending.
Just settling.
Like embers after a fire.
Warm.
Gentle.
Waiting for the night to carry them the rest of the way home.