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Cheng Xiaoshi hopped off the wooden chair. “There! Not so dull anymore, is it?”
Lu Guang flipped a page of his book. “I never said the room’s dull. You, on the other hand…”
“Because it is!” Cheng Xiaoshi waved a hand, gesturing to their hotel room. He moved the chair to another side of the room, then climbed on top of it again. “We’re snowed in. Might as well make the most of our time here.”
“I already am. You don’t need to hang up flashy decorations.”
Cheng Xiaoshi clicked his tongue. “You’re so not fun.”
After Lu Guang’s cosplay photoshoot up the mountains, they—Cheng Xiaoshi, Lu Guang, and the anime club president—returned to their lodge. The plan was to stay for one night, then properly hike the mountain the next day. But unexpectedly, snow fell overnight, and it hadn’t fully melted by morning. None of them felt like trekking through soggy staircases, but driving down the mountain without snow tires wasn’t a good idea either.
Cheng Xiaoshi and the anime club president unanimously agreed on a staycation. Immediately after that, the president locked herself in her own room, no doubt binge-watching the latest donghua series. Lu Guang wordlessly walked to his and Cheng Xiaoshi’s shared room, snuggled under the covers, and began reading a book.
Only Cheng Xiaoshi felt restless.
How could he not? He had finished going through all the photos from yesterday’s shoot until his eyelids were heavy. He had touched up the ones the club president and Lu Guang picked. He had even gone through the whole photo collection for the second time, just because. A third would just creep Lu Guang out.
By late morning, Cheng Xiaoshi had taken to strolling around the lodge facility. That was when he got an idea.
The lodge was decked in red, green, and gold decorations. Christmas wreaths decorated each door, mistletoe leaves hung from the windows, and banners saying “MERRY CHRISTMAS” and “HAPPY NEW YEAR” in glossy paper were taped to the walls.
On the other hand, the rooms were completely bare. If you shut the curtains, you wouldn’t even remember the festive season. Yes, it was that dull, and Cheng Xiaoshi wouldn’t hear otherwise.
So he walked up to the receptionist with his best customer service smile, asked if there were spare decorations that he could borrow, and returned to his and Lu Guang’s room with a box held in front of his chest.
Lu Guang lowered his book suspiciously. “What’s in there?”
“Decorations!” Cheng Xiaoshi placed the box on the coffee table next to the window with a huff. He had peeked into the box when the receptionist handed it to him, but now he inspected each item carefully. Red and gold plastic baubles, silver wreaths from thinly cut pieces of paper, synthetic pine needles, and more celebratory banners with different wording and designs.
“You’re ridiculous,” Lu Guang deadpanned. ‘We’re only staying for a day. At most two, if the snow doesn’t let up.”
“The length of our stay doesn’t matter,” said Cheng Xiaoshi, already unfurling one of the green garlands. “It’s the feeling that counts.”
“How insightful.”
“I’m gonna ignore your mocking tone,” said Cheng Xiaoshi pointedly. “Now, Lu Guang, where do you think I should put this?” He extended the garland as far as his outstretched arms could reach.
At some point, Lu Guang had resumed looking at his book. He didn’t look up when he replied. “I don’t care either way.”
Cheng Xiaoshi pursed his lips together, but Lu Guang didn’t look up to see that, either. “Lu Guang! So mean!”
“You’re the one who thinks the room is dull. Decorate it yourself.”
Cheng Xiaoshi huffed, but he knew Lu Guang could be stubborn if he put his mind to it. “Fine! I’ll break my back, and you just enjoy the fruits of my labor.”
“Hmm, have at it.”
Cheng Xiaoshi stomped his feet, but Lu Guang had said all he wanted to say. So for the next thirty minutes, Cheng Xiaoshi decorated every corner of the room in loud silence. That is to say, he huffed and puffed every few minutes, exaggerating his annoyed grunts and tired sighs. He felt like his mom or Uncle Qiao, doing work while silently complaining to guilt him and Qiao Ling into helping.
By his fifth “Aiyo, it fell off again,” Cheng Xiaoshi learned that Lu Guang would never fall for it.
When Cheng Xiaoshi finished putting up the final piece of decoration—standing on his tiptoes to hang a wreath above the curtains—the sun was high in the sky. It started melting the snow that was piling up in the parking lot, though you could hardly call it a pile.
“The snow’s so half-assed,” Cheng Xiaoshi muttered. He was standing in front of the window, both hands on his hips. Damn, he was really starting to look like Uncle Qiao. Cheng Xiaoshi immediately fixed his posture. “We can't hike, but there’s not enough snow to play with, either.”
“Not how you want to spend the last day of the year?” said Lu Guang from behind him. His voice was accompanied by the click of a door.
Cheng Xiaoshi turned, and his eyes widened. At some point, he did hear Lu Guang leaving the room, but he thought Lu Guang was finally getting bored and decided to take a stroll, too. Then he’d feel inspired after seeing the decorations around the lodge and decided to help him.
Instead, Lu Guang returned with an armful of food in plastic containers.
“Lu Guang!” Cheng Xiaoshi gawked. “Where did you get all this…?”
“The cafeteria.” Lu Guang placed the provisions on the kitchen counter. He checked his watch. “Breakfast ended at ten-thirty, so I went down to the buffet and grabbed some last-minute.”
“Lu Guang!” Cheng Xiaoshi repeated. He couldn’t help but laugh. “I didn’t know you could be so cheap!”
Lu Guang began opening the lids of the containers. “And whose fault is that?”
Cheng Xiaoshi snickered. It was his fault. During their trip to Yingdu, Cheng Xiaoshi told him they should take advantage of the all-you-can-eat breakfast by sneaking some food up to their room before the buffet was cleared. Then, they could just eat breakfast food for lunch and dinner.
“Cheapskate,” Lu Guang had said, aghast. “Not to mention shameless.”
“Suit yourself,” Cheng Xiaoshi stuck out his tongue. “All my money’s used up for plane tickets and hotel. I’m eating English waffles for dinner, and you can’t stop me.”
Cheng Xiaoshi smiled at the memory and at Lu Guang. Sadly, Lu Guang was busy reheating rice porridge in the microwave.
“It’s almost eleven,” Lu Guang said, taking out two plates from the counter. “Early lunch now or late lunch before we leave?”
“Unlike you, Guang Guang, I’ve been moving around. So early lunch.”
Lu Guang rolled his eyes, but Cheng Xiaoshi caught a smile playing on his lips as he transferred apple slices to plates.
The afternoon was slow. Cheng Xiaoshi played his mobile game as he lay in all sorts of positions on the bed. Leaning against the headboard, lying flat on his back, turning around and lying on his stomach, sitting cross-legged on the mattress… A few times, he heard Lu Guang criticizing his posture, but whatever.
Soon, Cheng Xiaoshi grew bored of his game. His usual gaming friends were lucky enough to not be stuck at home, so they couldn’t play together. The strangers he was paired up with were noobs that only pissed him off, or pros with too much time on their hands, which quickly reminded Cheng Xiaoshi of his own sorry condition. It killed the mood.
What killed the mood even more was the sight that greeted him when he turned to lie on his side, facing the glass window.
“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me.” Cheng Xiaoshi put his phone down and scrambled up. He ignored the game’s sound effect that announced his defeat and made a beeline to the window. He could see thin, cotton-like wisps floating from the heavens. They landed on the ground, the hood of cars, and the branches of trees, silent and mocking.
“It’s snowing again,” Lu Guang’s soft voice stated the obvious. He sounded detached, like he didn’t care either way.
Before Cheng Xiaoshi could reply, Lu Guang’s phone buzzed. “The president just messaged me,” he said. “It seems like we have to stay another night. The club’s paying, don’t worry.”
Cheng Xiaoshi groaned. Payment was the least of his worries. “We’re spending New Year’s Eve here?” He flopped into the chair that had been serving as his footstool all day and looked around the room. The bright decorations now seemed hollow.
Lu Guang followed his gaze. “I guess it’s a good thing you decorated?”
Cheng Xiaoshi laughed. He had been bored out of his mind the whole day, but Lu Guang’s awkward attempt at cheering him up sparked a bit of warmth in his chest.
“Yeah, well…” Cheng Xiaoshi looked through the window and let out a heavy sigh. “I just wish we could spend it at the studio.” It would be his first New Year’s Eve with Lu Guang, and he wanted to spend it at home, where so many of his firsts had been made. First picture, first steps, first day home from school, first day reopening the studio…
Where more of their firsts would be made, Cheng Xiaoshi’s hopeful heart thought wistfully. First kiss, first day as a couple, first “I love you,” first time… Well, only if Lu Guang would like him back.
Lu Guang hummed, and Cheng Xiaoshi could hear his mattress shifting. “What do you guys usually do?”
“Oh, we have this tradition,” Cheng Xiaoshi started, his lips already forming into a grin. “We order hotpot, right, and we cook in the sunroom. There’s always loud music. Qiao Ling’s parents always join the celebration, and they bring meat skewers, so there’s always loud old people music.” Here he paused to roll his eyes. There were noises in the kitchen, but something in him knew that Lu Guang was still listening. “Which kinda means we always talk while shouting, because how else are you supposed to talk to middle-aged uncles and aunties when there are fireworks above you, and Tián Mì Mì is on max volume? Huh…” Cheng Xiaoshi paused again. “I wonder what Aunt and Uncle are doing right now, since Qiao Ling’s off on vacation and we’re not in the studio either…”
Great, now a thin layer of guilt was piled on top of his mild frustration, too.
“Probably doing the same things you described, except there are no youngsters complaining about their music taste,” said Lu Guang from the kitchen. “What else do you do?”
“Uh…” Cheng Xiaoshi racked his brain for memories. “My dad used to grill barbecue outside, but we’ve been doing it less and less. Everyone’s too lazy to clean the grill. Oh, yeah. I guess there’s this thing Qiao Ling and I used to do when we were younger. We measured each other’s heights on the wall. Technically, it’s on New Year’s, not the eve, but it’s pretty much a whole package, anyway. We refused to eat our first breakfast of the year before measuring each other,” he chuckled. “Come to think of it, maybe we should do it again, but the height marks won’t even change…”
His voice trailed off. His eyes had just caught the first spark of fireworks in the darkening sky. “Say, isn’t it too early for a fireworks display?”
Lu Guang finally emerged from the kitchen. “I guess so,” he said, placing two plates full of stir-fried rice noodles decorated with bright vegetables, deep brown peanuts, and tender pieces of meat. Cheng Xiaoshi inhaled deeply, and his mouth immediately watered. From the presentation and smell, he would never guess this was breakfast food that Lu Guang had stuck in the microwave.
Lu Guang made a second trip to the kitchen, and he returned with another plate of fluffy steamed buns. Cheng Xiaoshi laughed in disbelief. “Did you raid the buffet?”
Lu Guang didn’t reply, but he smiled as he sat down on the chair across from Cheng Xiaoshi. He grabbed a plate and twiddled with his chopsticks, but instead of joyfully enjoying his haul, he looked at the faraway sky, where more and more fireworks began to bloom.
Cheng Xiaoshi had no choice but to take his own plate. The crackling spark in his chest grew into a flame when he realized Lu Guang was waiting for him—expecting him, even—to eat first.
So he did, slurping his noodles and savoring the rich spices. The long noodles had the perfect texture, and the spiciness of the broth was just right. Cheng Xiaoshi smacked his lips, enjoying his meal as well as the fireworks display.
Their high altitude gave him a different view of the fireworks. There were no longer giant explosions that hurt his ears and made him shout, “No, Uncle, that’s not how the song goes. Trust me, I sing it a billion times in karaoke…” This time, he witnessed beautiful flowers of red, gold, and white in a garden of dark blue, and their crackles were pleasing to the ears, like the sound of a fireplace in those old movies.
The wonder must be clear on his face, because Lu Guang said, “A change in tradition isn’t so bad sometimes.”
Cheng Xiaoshi blinked and turned towards him. “What was that?” He dug into his noodles again.
“This is a different New Year’s Eve from what you’re used to.” Lu Guang gestured to the window. “But it’s not so bad, is it?”
Cheng Xiaoshi laughed. “You’re right. I wouldn’t be able to see this from the studio.”
“And we wouldn’t be eating breakfast food for New Year’s Eve dinner.”
“And Qiao Ling would’ve helped me with the decorations.”
Lu Guang snorted. “Fine, fine.”
“And I…” Cheng Xiaoshi clamped his mouth shut. He almost said it. His big mouth almost said it.
And I wouldn’t be alone with you, just the two of us.
“Hm?”
Cheng Xiaoshi chewed on his noodles to give himself time to think. He swallowed. “And I… well, I definitely don’t have to yell while speaking to you!”
Lu Guang chuckled.
There was a moment of silence between them, blanketed with warmth and peace. Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang savored their noodles and steamed buns as they watched more and more flower-like sparks shoot into the sky.
Yeah. A change in tradition wasn’t so bad.
Unexpectedly, Lu Guang broke the silence first. “But next time…”
Cheng Xiaoshi stuck the last piece of steamed bun into his mouth. “Yeah?”
“Next year,” Lu Guang amended himself. “I’d like to see your New Year’s Eve traditions for myself.”
Cheng Xiaoshi’s lips parted. He forgot to chew for a few seconds. But Lu Guang was back to admiring the fireworks.
Maybe Cheng Xiaoshi was seeing things. Maybe it was the trick of the light. But he would tell anyone who would listen—a tint of pink dusted Lu Guang’s cheeks.
The spark in his chest turned into a flame, and then burned to an inferno that even the heaviest of snowstorms couldn’t quench.