Love Gene Defect - Chapter 6

After the meal, Ji Zhaoyuan meticulously cleaned his beloved cast iron pan. Not only did he rinse it with warm water, but he even coated it with a shiny layer of oil. Chu Jiuge watched the process from the kitchen door, dumbfounded.

Chu Jiuge pointed at the pile of bowls and plates stacked to the side. “Aren’t you going to wash those, too?”

“Of course.” Ji Zhaoyuan sidled over and handed him the dishcloth, ”You do it.”

He didn’t want to touch the dishcloth, so he took a step away from Ji Zhaoyuan. “Your hands are wet already. It makes more sense if you wash the rest as well.”

“I was afraid you’d ruin the pan if I let you wash it,” Ji Zhaoyuan said as he carefully placed the cleaned pan back on the rack. “It’s expensive.”

As Ji Zhaoyuan spoke, he squeezed hand soap into his palm and lathered it into a foam. He spread the soap evenly over each finger. “I cooked the meal. You can’t eat for free.”

He carefully washed his hands. His slender fingers bent, intertwined, and stretched beneath the flowing water. Ji Zhaoyuan’s nails were neatly trimmed, rounded and smooth, with a soft pale pink hue encasing faint crescent moons. An exceptionally beautiful pair of hands.

Strangely, Chu Jiuge simply watched. Those hands seemed to touch a hidden switch in his heart, causing time to stretch into a slow, languid flow. He forgot to protest, and could only obediently answer. “…Alright.”

For the first time in his life, Chu Jiuge attempted household chores. The results turned out surprisingly well. Whether or not he’d actually cleaned anything was a different matter, but at least he hadn’t broken a single thing.

He snapped his fingers and called Ji Zhaoyuan over, his tone tinged with pride. “Perfect score!”

Ji Zhaoyuan spared the dishes a perfunctory glance, said nothing, and headed upstairs.

He’d taken a day off so he could specifically pick Chu Jiuge up from the airport. After sharing a meal together, it was already past one in the afternoon.

Retrieving two documents from his study, he returned to Chu Jiuge with a spare key and a note. “The guest room is on the right-hand side of the second floor. The WI-FI password is on this note. And sort out dinner on your own.”

After a twenty-hour flight and a large meal, Chu Jiuge was feeling especially drowsy. He nodded silently as he watched Ji Zhaoyuan leave, before following his instructions and locating the guest room, hauling his luggage inside.

On the bedside table stood a cartoonish lamp with a shade resembling a watermelon rind. The curtains were pink, adorned with lace trim.

Chu Jiuge glanced at the bed. It was clearly smaller than standard, not even large enough for him to stretch his legs. The situation was somehow both amusing and exasperating to him.

If he wasn’t mistaken, this was Ji Zhaoyuan’s sister’s room–Ji Xigua.

He was simply too tired to care that the room had an owner. Chu Jiuge changed into his pyjamas and collapsed onto the bed without a second thought.

The bed sheets smelled faintly of laundry detergent and sunlight. They’d likely been freshly changed.

He mumbled to himself: he’d have to have it out with Ji Zhaoyuan when he returned. The bed was ridiculously small, more like a child’s play set, leaving half his legs dangling without support…and something else…

Chu Jiuge’s thoughts trailed off as his eyelids grew heavier and heavier.

Before long, he grew quiet. His nostrils flared gently, his breaths alternating between long and short. He was clearly asleep.

When Chu Jiuge opened his eyes again, he was greeted by the crimson glow of the setting sun pouring through the window. The light cast a slanted, dark red shadow across the room, in which he was enveloped.

Naturally still groggy from sleep, Chu Jiuge rubbed his eyes and stood beside the window. The sky was beautiful. Clouds and sunset melted together, as if they were both real and an illusion, and he found himself momentarily captivated.

The several loud growls of his stomach eventually pulled him out of his trance. Chu Jiuge’s expression fell into a pout, as if he were a frustrated child.

He couldn’t use the food delivery apps from back home to solve his immediate hunger. The idea of cooking for himself was akin to him jumping straight from the second floor.

Chu Jiuge sighed, overwhelmed by despair, as if he were some tragic hero facing his final stand. Surely, he would soon meet his end.

With one hand propping up his chin, he leaned against the window. In his boredom, he idly twirled the keyring around his index finger.

From his spot at the window, Chu Jiuge watched three cars approach from afar. Two of them turned into the small road leading to Ji Zhaoyuan’s house—one stopped at the intersection, and the other stopped in front of the house next to Ji Zhaoyuan’s.

From the farther car, an elderly woman got out, holding two large paper bags of groceries. An elderly man, clearly suffering from impaired mobility, left the house to greet her, followed by a dachshund. The two elders shared a kiss and returned inside.

The door of the closer car swung open. Chu Jiuge could hear the chatter of three young women speaking Chinese.

Laughing, Chu Jiuge leaned half of his body out the window and whistled at them. “Hi!”

He chatted with them for a short while, before he subtly mentioned that he didn’t have dinner plans. With a roguish smile, he winked his right eye. A shy girl with shoulder length hair blushed and quietly responded, “If you don’t mind, you can come over and eat.”

Chu Jiuge was in a great mood, his steps almost floating as he left the house. Before leaving, he even blew a kiss at the giant ‘twisted mahua’ on the wall.

While Chu Jiuge was full and satisfied, things weren’t going so well for Ji Zhaoyuan.

With a loud bang, a stack of documents was slammed onto his desk. Ji Zhaoyuan dropped his pen and rubbed at the small indentations on the bridge of his nose left by his glasses. He looked at the visitor, his head slightly throbbing.

The visitor was Lin Yu, from the office next door. He was nicknamed the social butterfly of the biological sciences and specialized in marine biology.

Ji Zhaoyuan’s connection with Lin Yu could be traced back to high school. At that time, Ji Zhaoyuan’s social skills were far worse. He was silent and withdrawn, solely focused on his interests, and completely unwilling to engage with the world around him. On the rare occasions he did speak, he invariably ended up offending people.

He always kept to himself, glancing at people from the corner of his eye and acting indifferent, barely acknowledging others.

It was inevitable that he’d be ostracised and bullied over time. Ji Zhaoyuan was fortunate enough to be naturally good-looking, he excelled in academics and he also learned taekwondo. Therefore, even though his personality invited resentment, nobody dared to provoke him.

Unlike Ji Zhaoyuan, Lin Yu was fair-skinned and delicate, with a soft personality–a stereotypical Asian boy. When cornered by violence-prone white boys, all Lin Yu could do was tremble, tears and snot mixing messily on his face. He didn’t dare to do anything else.

Perhaps out of a sense of camaraderie for a fellow Chinese person, or maybe just because he found bullying distasteful, Ji Zhaoyuan stepped in without much thought to save the pitiful Lin Yu. He hadn’t expected that Lin Yu would turn out to be the kind of person who would use others’ backing to act tough.

With someone backing him up, the ‘delicate flower’ bloomed and revealed that it was actually a carnivorous plant. Lin Yu instinctively mastered the art of feigning weakness to take down the strong.

Using Ji Zhaoyuan’s reputation, Lin Yu dominated his way from high school to university.

Still, Lin Yu was one of Ji Zhaoyuan’s few friends.

“Here, the SAT materials you wanted. And here’s the contact information for the language class.” Lin Yu handed him a business card, then casually perched himself on Ji Zhaoyuan’s desk. “Isn’t Reily still quite young? Besides, she’s a native-born American–why would she need to attend a language class? Is it for one of your relatives?” Lin Yu shook his head. “You’re not the type to meddle with others’ affairs, so what’s going on? Something up?”

Ji Zhaoyuan felt somewhat helpless. He could only respond after Lin Yu had finally finished questioning him. “My mother sent over a kid. It’s for teaching him.”

“How important is this kid that they need you to teach them? Are they planning to apply to Harvard or Princeton?” Lin Yu leaned closer, meeting Ji Zhaoyuan’s eyes. “Wait, first tell me if it’s a boy or girl.”

“Adult male,” Ji Zhaoyuan replied, avoiding Lin Yu’s gaze. He glanced down at his watch–almost 11PM. Tidying up his belongings quickly, he stood. “I’m leaving.”

“So early?!” Lin Yu tugged at Ji Zhaoyuan, his expression wide with surprise. “You’re acting really strange today.”

“You called an adult male a kid. How can you describe him in such contradictory terms? And normally, you’re fine making eye contact with me, but you clearly just avoided it.” Lin Yu hopped off the table, scrutinizing Ji Zhaoyuan from head to toe. “Weller, what’s going on?

“I’m worried the person at home will ruin my kitchen.” Ji Zhaoyuan pulled his hand back and grabbed his car keys, heading out the door.

Before Lin Yu could react, Ji Zhaoyuan had already left without looking back.

Ji Zhaoyuan pressed the elevator button and watched as the numbers lit up in sequence, steadily approaching his floor.

Despite the hallway being quiet, save for the occasional figure rushing past clutching files, the entire Barrows building was lit up as if it were daytime. Everyone was absorbed in their tasks, busily going about their work.

No wonder Lin Yu was surprised. Heading home this early was unusual, especially for Ji Zhaoyuan.

One of the diagnostic criteria for Autism is a strict adherence to specific, repetitive rituals and activities. Ji Zhaoyuan’s daily routine included preparing lunch, eating, cooking only half a bowl of rice and cleaning up within an hour, then finishing work precisely at midnight. Yet, today, every single one of these routines were completely disrupted.

For most people, unexpected twists in daily life are perfectly normal. But for Ji Zhaoyuan, it was a different story.

To be precise, it was actually dangerous. Any deviation from an established routine could trigger significant anxiety in someone with Autism.

With a soft ding, the elevator doors slid open. He stepped into the cold metallic box, pressing his lips into a tight, straight line.

Ji Zhaoyuan’s doctor, Dr Adam, suggested that when experiencing such unbearable chaos, a sense of order could be restored through writing.

He hesitated for a moment before sending a text to Dr Adam.

Dr Adam replied quickly, but didn’t address Ji Zhaoyuan’s worries directly.

Ji Zhaoyuan paused, then flicked to a photo his mother had sent him earlier. His mother’s request had been part of the reason, but he knew it was the blindingly radiant smile in the photo that had really clouded his judgement. Otherwise, there was no way that he’d let an unfamiliar young man live in his home, much less put any effort into tutoring him.

The Chu Jiuge on the screen appeared to have just finished playing basketball. His blue jersey was soaked, and his sun-kissed skin seemed to shine under the bright sunlight. That smile was captivating. Chu Jiuge’s eyes squinted slightly, giving him the look of a well-fed leopard cub, and his lips were half-pursed, half-curved.

Ji Zhaoyuan’s fingertips gently brushed against Chu Jiuge’s dimples in the photograph as he struggled to find the words to describe him. After what felt like an eternity of organising his thoughts, he still couldn’t figure out how to meet Dr Adam’s expectations. With a sigh, he began typing a response.

As soon as he sent the text, another thought occurred to him. He reopened the chat thread.

Also, he fits my aesthetic.