Yu's mother glanced at the vegetables and fruits, remarking to Yu Cheng, "Your grandpa also brought the vegetables I love to eat."
"Mom, is it possible that these are actually Zhong Shao's favourites?" Although reluctant, Yu Cheng exposed the truth.
"Can't you let me bask in some compliments? Honestly." the mother retorted.
Yu Cheng carried the vegetables, guiding his mother towards the kitchen, intentionally twisting her reference to "compliments",
"My mom is the most beautiful woman in the world."
"Stop talking nonsense," the mother intervened, pausing and turning to Zhong Shao, "How does Zhong Shao like his tomatoes prepared?"
Despite Zhong Shao consuming healthy meals almost daily, he wasn't particularly fond of green vegetables. Most of the time, food to him was just a means to satiate hunger and maintain health – the distinction between eating what he liked and what he didn't wasn't significant. However, when Yu's grandfather asked him if there were any vegetables he enjoyed from the garden, he immediately blurted out "tomatoes." "Whatever you want," Zhong Shao responded, curving to please the elders.
The mother lifted the pocket carrying the tomatoes, in high spirits, "I promise to make you eat two extra bowls of rice today!"
Zhong Shao moved the pocket left at the door to the kitchen, but before long, both of them were chased out of the kitchen under the guise of "disturbing the cooking process."
They stood facing each other at the kitchen entrance.
"Should we go to the study to see my father?"
Upon returning, Yu Cheng noticed his father's shoes on the shoe rack near the door. Zhong Shao nodded, "Sure."
Yu Cheng rapped on the study door three times with his knuckles and only turned the handle after hearing "come in."
The study room is elongated in shape, not large in size, but excels in the efficient use of space. On the inner side is the audiovisual area, while the outer side houses the calligraphy desk.
Yu's father is sitting at the desk writing, they both standing on one side and the other, silently waiting for the final stroke.
As soon as the pen is set down, Yu Cheng casually comments, "Father, your calligraphy has improved."
Unfortunately, his father, Mr. Fang, barely acknowledges his own son, almost as if saying "no distinction between young and old."
"Hello, I'm Zhong Shao, a colleague of Yu Cheng," Zhong Shao introduces himself formally, meeting Mr. Yu Cheng's father's gaze.
Mr. Fang remains expressionless, briefly pausing on Zhong Shao before smiling warmly. "I know you," Mr. Fang points to the audiovisual area of the study, saying, "Those are your DVDs. First time meeting you in person, young man, not bad, better than Yu Cheng."
Zhong Shao thinks to himself, does everyone in this family like calling others "young man"?
Yu Cheng silently wonders if there's any room left for his own character development. "Can you write?"
Mr. Fang asks Zhong Shao, who has been staring at the words on the paper.
"Why don't you give it a try?" Zhong Shao demonstrates some skill in calligraphy with a brush, but it remains at a basic level.
Taking the brush, he carefully examines a character that Mr. Yu Cheng's father wrote, then dips the brush in ink and writes the character "誉（Yu）" on the paper. After finishing, Zhong Shao puts down the brush and modestly says, "I apologise for my poor writing, Uncle."
"Humble indeed, your writing has its own unique style," Yu's father comments, then beckons to Yu Cheng, "Come over and write a character. Let me see if your basic skills are still intact after ten years of not writing."
Yu Cheng, feeling unusually nervous, touches his nose and writes the character "邵（Shao）" next to the character "Yu." Unlike Zhong Shao's reserved style, Yu Cheng's calligraphy appears more elegant and graceful.
Yu's father glances over, offering a nonchalant "Hmm" before smiling slightly and saying, "Not bad, you haven't disgraced our Fang family name."
Yu Cheng's surname is Fang, and his full name is Fang Yu Cheng.
"Dad, if you want to praise me, can you do it more openly?"
"You rascal!"
After chatting for a while, Mr. Yu cleared his study for the two young men and went to the kitchen to help out.
Zhong Shao walked up to the wall where his DVDs were stored and couldn't help but quip, "Fang Yu Cheng, I didn't expect you to have been spying on me for so long." From his first film at the age of fifteen to all versions of DVDs with both major and minor roles, some even ones he didn't have, are all here.
"Well," Yu Cheng replied calmly, "I've been wanting to collaborate with you for a long time."
Standing side by side, the two were almost the same height, but upon closer inspection, Zhong Shao was slightly taller by a thumb's length.
Zhong Shao turned his head, his breath escaping into his eardrums as his stray hair brushed against Yu Cheng's ear, igniting a subtle itch in his heart.
The air in the study suddenly warmed up significantly. It seemed like he just opened his mouth, yet he did speak, and the escalating itch felt less ambiguous compared to Zhong Shao's words.
He said, "You're not just spying on me as a person, are you?"
Even in his composure, Yu Cheng couldn't withstand such a direct and candid flirtation, his neck blushing noticeably. Yu Cheng raised an eyebrow with a light smile, suddenly calling out "Senior Brother," his blushing neck becoming even redder, and replied, "I can differentiate between love and brotherhood, there is a boundary between roles and me as well."
Zhong Shao chuckled softly, when did they start this back and forth teasing, it seemed to have begun when they went on vacation to England together.
These two sentences were exchanged just as they entered the cast, a quick question and answer session in the safety corridor, but Yu Cheng's answer was clear to Zhong Shao.
"It was Senior Brother who couldn't hold back first."
Yu Cheng: "..." Please stop, my earlobes are burning.
Zhong Shao didn't continue to tease Yu Cheng, instead he handed him his phone, asking him to take a picture.
That evening, Zhong Shao buried himself in his pillow, the refreshing scent of lemon laundry detergent wafting into his nostrils, filling him with a comforting sense of laziness. Aunt's tomato beef made him want an extra bowl of rice, while Uncle, despite his public position, was well-informed, talkative, and Grandpa, sharp-tongued but kind-hearted, was an adorable and respectable elderly figure.
The feeling of being at peace was akin to being at home, as if he finally understood.
The next morning, amidst the crowd rushing to school, Yu Cheng and Zhong Shao stood out behind the bustling children at the breakfast stall in front of Pingcheng Experimental Primary School.
"When I was in primary school, I used to have her sticky rice rollss meal every school day, five days a week," Yu Cheng glanced at Zhong Shao with a smile and asked, "Do you want to give it a try?"
The mobile vendor from their childhood days had transformed into a permanent store, and the owner, once a young mother with a few kids, was now a grandmother with a grandson.
The table was filled with an array of condiments, but the tofu topping remained a consistent choice.
"Sure," Yu Cheng's eyes fixed on the condiments, he nudged Zhong Shao's elbow and asked, "What toppings would you like?"
"What do you usually add?"
"Since high school, I haven't come back here. In my childhood, I always added crispy dough sticks, starch sausages, pork tenderloin, and pocket eggs."
"Same to you."
The school bell rang, Yu Cheng and Zhong Shao leisurely sat in the shop eating boxed lunches.
"How does it taste?"
Zhong Shao responded with a question, "Do you think its taste has changed?"
"It feels similar to the taste in memory."
"Then it must be delicious."
The taste that lingers in memory for a long time, unforgettable, is either a specific taste or just an old flavour.
The shop's owner had long forgotten about a young man who loved eating this roll, but this did not stop Yu Cheng and Zhong Shao from being satisfied.
Sipping on their soy milk, the two walked along the tree-lined path for 40 minutes. Yucheng checked the time, just past ten o'clock.
"Are you sure we can get in like this?" Zhong Shao pointed to the clothes they were wearing.
Although it had been ten years since graduation, fortunately, the school uniforms from No.1 Middle School had remained unchanged.
At this moment, Yu Cheng, known as the "youngest," was wearing his two summer school uniforms along with Zhong Shao.
At 17, being the "youngest," at 27, besides being more calm and humble, everything else seemed unchanged, his smile still as clear and pure.
"You are underestimating me too much."Yu Cheng waved to Zhong Shao and said, "Let's go, the outstanding graduate will get you in."
Zhong Shao lowered his eyes and smiled, with a sense of indulgence in his composure, "If we can get in that easily, why wear the school uniform?"
Yucheng boldly uttered two words, "Acting young."
Zhong Shao: "..." Alright.
The two successfully pretended to be young, perhaps due to the poor eyesight of the security guard on duty today.
They said what they said, and the security guard believed it, allowing the two to enter the campus posing as high school students from Class 2 of Grade 3.
Pingcheng No. 1 Middle School is divided into junior and senior sections, where the six years of Yu Cheng's life and memories linger.
Passing through the junior section on the way to the senior section, memories from over a decade ago do not need to be deliberately recalled. With each step, one can vividly recount the small stories that happened here.
Yu Cheng walked and pointed out, reminiscing about the numerous lessons learned in the process of growing up. Zhong Shao followed Yu Cheng's steps up the stairs, saying, "I didn't expect you to be quite mischievous when you were young."
"Indeed," Yu Cheng chuckled, "probably greatly influenced by my grandfather, I spent my younger years playing and having fun."
"Isn't that how youth should be?"
Unable to suppress the upward curve of his lips, Yu Cheng answered, "Yes."
Two individuals arrived at the deserted fourth floor of the laboratory building, gazing at the uniquely shaped U-shaped teaching building to the south, without reminiscing about their youth.
"Shall we do it again?"
"Do what again?" Yu Cheng pretended not to understand.
Instead of exposing the truth, Zhongshao spoke more openly, "To get to know each other again, or..."
A couple of students passed by from the opposite teaching building, Zhong Shao uttered the remaining few words, "To become more familiar."
Yu Cheng also saw those students, replied with a "okay," and initiated a rapid-fire question and answer mode.
"Do you like the role you played this time?"
"I do."
"Besides admiration, do you have any other comments about me?"
"I do."
"Care to share a bit more?"
"That's another question."
"Can you evaluate me as a person?"
"I'm very interested."
"What kind of evaluation is that?"
"That's another question."
Yu Cheng: "... " Zhongshao, are you in elementary school?
"Does acting lead to real feelings?"
The same question Zhong Shao once asked him, now, it was his turn.
"I understand the boundary between roles and actors very well."
Yucheng chuckled lightly and continued, "Have you ever thought about coming out publicly?"
"I'll go with the flow."
"Give an evaluation of our collaboration this time?"
"It was very satisfying."
"If you weren't an actor, what profession would you most like to pursue?"
"A producer."
"The same question," Zhong Shao said, "If you weren't an actor, what profession would you most like to pursue?"
"I haven't thought about it yet."
Zhong Shao believed Yu Cheng had indeed not considered this question, as a person with strong beliefs always knows what they are doing.
"I want to take you to see where I grew up."
"Am I that obvious?"
Zhong Shao didn't answer, his gaze fixed on the teaching building, a smile involuntarily appearing on his lips.