Proactively Attracted chapter 27
New Year’s Wish
The two of them were so busy together prepping food that there was no room for Lu Xingjia to join in.
So, he sat at his desk, reading slowly while waiting for dinner to be served.
They lived in an old-style apartment complex, right in the city center. The windows of their room faced the main street.
On New Year’s Eve, the streets were bustling, filled with crowds. In the noisy air, one could faintly hear a supermarket nearby playing “Congratulations, congratulations to you” and advertisements for big discounts.
Inside, the home was just as lively and cozy. Lu Xingjia left the door slightly open, with a direct view of the kitchen.
From the kitchen came playful noises. Xiang Yizhi dabbed a bit of flour on He Xi’s face; He Xi, puffing up angrily, reached out with her flour-covered hands to squeeze his stubbled cheek. Their behavior was so childish that even Lu Xingjia, was starting to feel embarrassed for them.
The atmosphere was so sweet it seemed like pink bubbles were floating in the air. Lu Xingjia, however, couldn’t concentrate on his book. He rested his head on his arm, occasionally fiddling with his old flip phone.
How was Qin Mudong doing?
What was the issue that made him turn down his invitation?
Maybe it was something he couldn’t talk about?
But no matter what, Lu Xingjia couldn’t just drag him over by force to spend New Year’s together.
Lu Xingjia let out a deep sigh at his desk, hoping the midnight chime would come soon.
……
In the supermarket, people were gathered in small groups, chatting and laughing.
A cool and aloof-looking boy walked alone through the crowd. Dressed all in black with one hand casually in his pocket, his cold expression clashed with the festive atmosphere—he looked gloomy and lonely.
He strode up to a shelf and grabbed two large packs of instant noodles. As he passed the refrigerated section, a cheerful promoter stepped in his way.
“Young man, it’s the New Year! Want a bag of dumplings?”
“No…” Qin Mudong declined without thinking.
“These are our newest pork and corn dumplings—they’re selling like crazy! Everyone who’s tried them loves them!”
Pork and corn…?
Qin Mudong’s gaze flickered slightly. He silently accepted the bag of dumplings from the promoter.
Lu Xingjia liked corn. That’s why He Xi always made corn-filled buns.
Dumplings should taste about the same.
“Go ahead and take them! They’re absolutely delicious!” The chubby promoter smiled so wide her eyes nearly disappeared. “Anything else you need? Tangyuan? Spring rolls? We’ve got everything—”
“No need.”
This time, Qin Mudong didn’t give her a chance to finish. He tossed the dumplings into his basket and walked away quickly.
The promoter shook her head, used to all kinds of strange customers. She lifted her megaphone and continued shouting, “Come take a look! Dumpling sale happening now! Originally priced at—”
Once outside the supermarket, the noise was instantly shut out.
Qin Mudong carried the large shopping bag with one hand and made his way home alone.
He pulled out his keys and opened the security door. The light flickered before coming on. He carried the bag into the kitchen.
Two big packs of instant noodles, two cartons of eggs, some green vegetables… and one large bag of pork and corn dumplings.
He sorted everything into the nearly empty fridge. When his fingers brushed the bag of frozen dumplings, they paused for a moment.
In northern tradition, dumplings are eaten during the New Year to symbolize peace and reunion in the coming year.
Qin Mudong didn’t understand what use these vague, intangible wishes had. Could misfortune really disappear just because a wish was made?
But still, his hand trembled slightly as he tore open the bag of frozen dumplings, still crusted with ice crystals.
He fetched water, added the dumplings, and turned on the stove.
Before long, the water came to a boil, bubbles gurgling up and bursting as they reached the surface. The plump white dumplings floated up, round and full.
For some reason, Qin Mudong thought of Lu Xingjia bundled up like a little dumpling in his thick winter clothes.
So cute, it made one want to…
Bang.
He suddenly slammed his fist hard against the tiled kitchen counter. The small wooden cutting board wobbled slightly, and a bit of the dumpling broth splashed out.
Panting, he leaned wearily against the cold tiles, forcing himself not to think any further.
Once the cutting board stopped shaking, everything returned to calm.
As if nothing had happened, Qin Mudong turned off tHe Xiat and scooped the dumplings into a bowl.
At some point, fireworks had started outside the window, and the TV was playing a comedy skit. The volume was turned up all the way, and Qin Mudong sat cross-legged on the floor, holding the bowl, his eyes fixed on the screen—though unfocused.
In such a quiet and hollow house, even with the noisy TV blaring, it still felt lonely.
He didn’t really have anything important to do. Even on New Year’s Eve, he was alone, curled up in a cold house.
He just didn’t dare get close to Lu Xingjia anymore.
Qin Mudong had always known he wasn’t like most people.
His obsession with things went far beyond what others could imagine.
If someone used his textbook, he’d throw it away. If someone wore his clothes, he’d never wear them again. The milk candies from his grandfather were his possessions—if someone dared touch them, they had to pay the price.
Until that day, under the sparse starlight, he realized he had come to see that boy—with stars hidden in his eyes—as his possession too.
But, unfortunately, that boy wasn’t an object. He was someone he could never rightfully desire.
He couldn’t go on like this. He really might not be able to resist locking that boy away with chains, hiding him where no one could ever find him.
That boy would hate him, fear him, cry from terror, regret ever getting close, and beg to be let go. And yet, the thought that all the boy’s emotions—his joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness—would revolve around him, sparked a sense of twisted satisfaction deep in Qin Mudong’s heart.
He was a complete and utter freak.
A star that bright shouldn’t be stained by someone like him.
The clock’s hand kept turning, and soon, it would be midnight.
When the clock struck twelve, it would mark the beginning of a new year.
The bowl of dumplings was already empty, but Qin Mudong remained in the same posture, staring at the TV without moving.
His heart thudded dully in his chest, as if it had been soaked in a bowl of brine—salty, bitter, and swollen.
It was like he was hoping for something, but also afraid of something.
Under the same sky, the TV was broadcasting the same scene everywhere.
The minute hand drew closer and closer to twelve, and the hosts were already reading their pre-prepared lines.
Lu Xingjia was sitting on the couch, stuffing a steaming hot dumpling into his mouth, sucking in air from tHe Xiat.
To welcome Xiang Yizhi’s visit, He Xi had opened a bottle of red wine.
Lu Xingjia, still underage, couldn’t drink. But the two adults had each drunk quite a bit.
Xiang Yizhi, usually cold and reserved, now had a rosy flush on his cheeks. He was chattering away to He Xi.
He talked about finding a new batch of ingredients he wanted to give her, then praised her beauty and kind heart. Finally, he insisted on singing a duet with her.
And He Xi? Not much better. She actually grabbed her chopsticks like a mic and began singing with him.
Lu Xingjia let them carry on, watching the Spring Festival Gala countdown by himself on the sofa.
Five minutes.
Three minutes.
Two minutes.
The clock’s minute hand circled round. With only two minutes left until midnight, Lu Xingjia quickly stuffed the last dumpling into his mouth, put down his bowl, and dashed into his room.
“Jia Jia, wha-what’re you doing?” He Xi slurred, clearly tipsy.
“Something came up!” Lu Xingjia called from his room.
“Leave him be,” Xiang Yizhi said, taking her hand and intertwining their fingers. “Xiao Xi, I’m just really, really happy today. I never thought you’d actually invite me to your home…”
Bang! Lu Xingjia shut his door, blocking out all the noise from the outside.
He quickly picked up his phone and deftly dialed the 11-digit number he knew by heart.
Bzzz—
Bzzz—
As soon as the call connected, neither of them said anything.
The noisy background of a TV could be heard from the other end.
“The New Year bell is about to ring. Dear viewers, let’s count down together! Five—four—three—two—one…!”
Just before the host finished, Lu Xingjia beat him to it and blurted out, “Happy New Year.”
The TV erupted with joyful music, the hosts smiling brightly, cheeks flushed: “Happy—New—Year!”
Qin Mudong reached out and turned off the TV. The room instantly went silent.
“Happy New Year,” he said softly.
A slightly hoarse voice, tinged with a faint electric buzz through the receiver, still landed clearly in the ear—almost lingering with tenderness.
Lu Xingjia suddenly felt a little hot. He unconsciously licked his lips and foolishly repeated, “H-Happy New Year.”
Qin Mudong stood by the window, gazing out at the lights flickering across the city. The corner of his lips curved into a faint smile.
Lu Xingjia always had that kind of magic—just one encounter with him, and the gloom, irritability, and all the dark emotions lurking in the shadows would miraculously dissipate.
As if in response to some unseen force, Lu Xingjia’s heartbeat sped up a little.
He too stood by his window, looking up at the star-filled night sky.
“You…” He swallowed and asked, “Do you have a New Year’s wish?”
Qin Mudong closed his eyes lightly. “I don’t believe in that.”
“Just say one,” Lu Xingjia whispered playfully. “Look how many stars are out tonight. If you make a wish on the stars, it might just come true.”
In the northern winter, the sky was high and often smoggy—such a starry night was rare.
The night sky was a deep blue, dotted with glittering stars, each one lighting up the dark canvas like tiny flames.
Qin Mudong’s lips lifted slightly. He replied softly, “I don’t have one.”
“It’s getting late. Get some rest.”
With that, he hung up the phone before Lu Xingjia could respond.
He turned off the living room light and felt his way back to the bedroom in the dark. Sitting at his desk, he casually lifted the lid of a small wooden box.
Inside were all kinds of notes—torn pages from homework books, neatly cut sticky notes, even pieces of tissue paper—piled together and filling the box to the brim without him realizing it.
Qin Mudong stared deeply at this messy pile of notes.
The stars in the sky would never grant his wishes.
Because what he wished for—was a star itself.
…….
On the other end, listening to the busy tone on the phone, Lu Xingjia sighed in disappointment.
He couldn’t help feeling that something about Qin Mudong’s attitude was off—like he had gone back to being distant again.
Had he done something wrong?
Author’s Note:
Just to clarify—Mudong won’t hurt Jia Jia, not now, not ever.