Red Beans and Lingering Shadows

Their gazes met and locked, holding each other’s eyes in a prolonged silence.

Jiang Yan was utterly captivated by Lin Yu’s beauty. Quickly, he recovered, grabbing a thick blanket and gesturing for Lin Yu to sit on the sofa. He worried that even after a hot shower, the boy might catch a cold or develop a fever, so he made sure to keep him warm, even adjusting the climate control. It was late November in the north, and the heating was already on. The living room was now quite warm, and a fine sheen of sweat had appeared on Jiang Yan’s forehead. Yet, his only concern was Lin Yu, fearing he might not get warm enough.

Lin Yu, meanwhile, was enveloped by Jiang Yan’s gentle gaze, as if slowly encased in his radiant light, being purified little by little from the mire he had been in. He yearned to surrender to this moment, to let time stand still. But just as quickly, he snapped out of his yearning, lowering his head, a self-deprecating sneer forming in his mind. ‘How shameless,’ he thought.

“Mn,” he murmured softly, and though he had no desire to eat, he obediently accepted the bowl of porridge. A faint, sweet aroma of red beans wafted into Lin Yu’s nostrils, instantly seizing control of his emotions.

When his grandmother was alive, she had ceaselessly prepared countless red bean dishes for him, from the autumn he turned six until he was twenty-one. Then, it had all abruptly stopped.

Lin Yu had, in truth, long grown tired of the taste of red beans, even developing a strong aversion to them. Yet, for his grandmother’s sake, no matter how unpalatable they were, he would pretend to love them and eat them all. The long-term consumption of food with the same flavor, despite other dishes for variety, had long since instilled a sense of resistance in Lin Yu towards food. Even when he boarded at the only high school in the neighboring town, his grandmother would often deliver red bean soup to him every few days. The psychological burden his grandmother’s painstaking efforts had placed upon him was something he had never once revealed. He couldn’t recall how many years it had been since he found eating so difficult. But now, gazing at this bowl of tremella and red date porridge, speckled with a few red beans, Lin Yu’s emotions began to spiral once more. He struggled to rein them in, yet suddenly felt ravenously hungry, his stomach aching from the emptiness.

Suddenly, he seemed to develop an intense interest in the porridge, all aversion to food completely vanishing. Lin Yu clutched the bowl, his movements stiff and exaggerated, gulping down a large mouthful of porridge. He wasn’t sure what it tasted like; he only wanted to frantically integrate every red bean, every symbol of his grandmother’s boundless love, into his very being. How long had it been? He had been almost incapable of swallowing food completely and smoothly, each meal consisting of tiny, difficult bites, often feeling nauseous once the food reached his stomach. But today, as he looked at those few red beans, perfectly cooked until they burst open, he devoured them like a hungry tiger. His movements gradually accelerated; he scooped large mouthfuls of the thick porridge into his mouth, as if he had forgotten to breathe, swallowing relentlessly, swallowing…

“Lin Yu?” Jiang Yan quickly noticed the peculiar way Lin Yu was eating. “Slow down!” He reached out to snatch the bowl, fearing he would choke himself eating like that.

However, Lin Yu’s reaction seemed to accelerate tenfold. He recoiled swiftly, not even glancing at Jiang Yan, and continued to shovel large mouthfuls of porridge into his mouth. Unable to swallow quickly enough, porridge dribbled onto his pajamas, then dripped onto the floor. Suddenly, an expression of panic, as if he had lost something extraordinarily precious, flashed across Lin Yu’s eyes. The bowl slipped from his hands and shattered. Yet, he seemed utterly oblivious to the sharp shards, grabbing the porridge from his pajamas and stuffing it into his mouth. Then, with a thud, he knelt on the floor, scooping up the porridge mixed with broken ceramic and unhesitatingly forcing it into his mouth.

His grandmother had taught him from a young age never to waste food. His intense agitation at this moment stemmed from his desperate refusal to lose any of his grandmother’s love. Red beans had been his grandmother’s only means of providing him with nourishment when she couldn’t afford to buy tonics.

“Lin Yu! What are you doing?” Jiang Yan was startled by the actions of the grief-stricken young man. He pulled the boy, whose gaze was rapidly losing its focus, to his feet and pressed him onto the sofa, checking his fingers for any cuts.

“I’m so hungry, so hungry, I want red beans.” Lin Yu pleaded piteously, looking at Jiang Yan, who held him as if in an iron clamp. “I want to eat red beans.” Watching him howl and beg, almost frantically, continuously muttering ‘red beans,’ Jiang Yan’s heart sank. ‘Damn it,’ he thought. ‘It seems red beans are also something that triggers Lin Yu. Otherwise, normally, he’d be shouting that he wants to eat a proper meal, right?’

The emotionally unstable Lin Yu was once again half-dragged, half-carried by Jiang Yan back to the bedroom. He pressed the nurse call button by the bed and politely requested, “Could you please clean up the living room? I’m terribly sorry, a bowl broke.”

“Of course, I’ll be right there,” the junior nurse replied.

Lin Yu continued to mutter and plead softly, a fragile whisper imbued with a sudden intensity. He clutched Jiang Yan’s collar tightly, refusing to let go. “I’m really so hungry, give me red beans…”

“I’m sorry, Lin Yu,” Jiang Yan apologized sincerely. “My parents truly spoiled my character; I’ve been presumptuous about many things, believing that whatever I did was for others’ good. I didn’t consider that my assumptions would make you… like this. Can you tell me if there are other things you can’t touch or see?”

“I beg you…” Lin Yu couldn’t comprehend Jiang Yan’s words at that moment. He was stubbornly fixated on experiencing the taste of red beans, the taste of his grandmother. He no longer had his grandmother, but red beans still existed in this world, didn’t they?

He remembered Cai Xinyu’s furious outbursts whenever his grandmother frequently cooked red bean dishes. The man, with his menacing expression, would slam his hand on the table, cursing vehemently: “Why is it always red bean rice, red bean buns, red bean porridge? Who puts red beans in fish stew? Are you senile and sick in the head? I’m warning you, from now on, red beans are banned from this house! They taste disgusting!”

Lin Yu had slammed the table back at him then: “If you don’t like it, let me take Grandma and leave. I like them.”

“If you ever talk about leaving again, I’ll use my position to pull some strings and send that old hag to her grave!”

Lin Yu’s chest tightened with rage. “You!”

“Stop eating! A whole table of red beans, it’s infuriating!” Cai Xinyu overturned the table, his face a mask of fury, and forcefully dragged Lin Yu into the bedroom, unleashing his daytime anger upon him. His grandmother watched the mess on the floor, listening to the gentle, well-behaved Lin Yu being bullied in the room. She silently wiped away tears, pulled out her life-saving pills, and tried to control her heart condition. “If this old hag’s death could make Xiao Yu’s life a little better, if it could free him from this beast, I wouldn’t care to live,” his grandmother had said sadly, putting the medicine back.

“Grandma…” Lin Yu, jolted out of his trance, numbly uttered two syllables. Lying on the bed, the face of the person before him gradually came into focus: it was Jiang Yan, looking anxious and full of self-reproach.

Lin Yu’s vision slowly sharpened, and his emotions suddenly became remarkably calm. He apologized coolly, “I’m sorry, I don’t want to be like a madman…” He knew he had issues; tormented by Cai Xinyu for three years, he had suppressed too much for too long. Yet, occasionally, he couldn’t control his emotions, needing to resort to self-harm to alleviate his pain. He knew this wasn’t right, but… Lin Yu couldn’t manage to adjust his emotions every time. In the past, when he lost control in front of Cai Xinyu, whether he was cursed at or beaten, he didn’t care. He even wished Cai Xinyu would beat him to death, granting him release. But for his grandmother’s sake, he couldn’t die, so he would obediently listen to Cai Xinyu once more.

“Let me go,” he pleaded. “Otherwise, I’ll cause you more…”

“I’m the one who caused you trouble; I acted on my own initiative and never asked about your situation.” Jiang Yan, however, dared not ask, fearing that any question might trigger painful memories and lead to another emotional breakdown. He felt utterly helpless. Without a trace of blame for Lin Yu’s loss of control, Jiang Yan simply felt a profound pity for the poor boy. ‘If he didn’t have a psychological condition, he wouldn’t be like this,’ he thought.

Jiang Yan watched as Lin Yu calmed down, slowly releasing his hold. Sitting by the bed, he wanted to ask if Lin Yu would like to eat something else, but having twice triggered the boy’s emotions by acting on his own judgment, Jiang Yan hesitated to speak. He quietly observed the emotionless figure staring at the ceiling, a worried frown on his face. In the unlit room, illuminated only by the faint glow of the streetlights outside, the silent movement of air was almost palpable.

****

Suddenly, a phone rang, startling Lin Yu. Lying flat, he quickly sat up, curling himself into a small ball in the corner.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jiang Yan quickly pressed to decline the call, reaching out to comfort Lin Yu. But Lin Yu turned his head away, a clear refusal. He lowered his eyes, shaking his head to indicate he was fine.

Jiang Yan retracted his hand, sighed helplessly, and stepped out to return the call. In the living room, he saw Wang Jian, who had wheeled in some IV equipment.

“Why aren’t you going in?” he asked.

“You two are alone in a room; do you think I’d dare?” Wang Jian teased.

“Stop joking, go quickly. This kid has serious psychological issues; you need to arrange for a doctor to treat him right away,” Jiang Yan urged, then left the room.

– Did you talk to him? Did he agree to record the show?

– No.

‘The boy needs rest and recovery.’

– Why not? His image is too perfect, absolutely stunning! He’s the second person I’ve ever seen, besides you, who’s truly breathtaking! I must get him, sign him, promote him!

– No need to flatter me incidentally. I’m not falling for that.

Sun Yali “tsk-ed.”

– The entertainment industry needs a face like his; he’d be a massive hit!

– The boy is hospitalized; he’s not suitable for work in the short term.

– Hospitalized? You know him? He wasn’t just some random passerby you photographed? I had someone look into him this afternoon, but the person they contacted wasn’t him; it was some boyfriend of his, who was very aggressive and rude.

– Cai Xinyu?

The mention of that name instantly irritated him.

– How did you get in touch with Cai Xinyu?

– I found the kid’s phone number! Big data is so transparent; just spend a little money. I even found his QQ number.

Jiang Yan understood: Lin Yu had a phone, which he’d left at Cai Xinyu’s house.

– Sister Sun, please don’t have any contact with Lin Yu’s ex-boyfriend in the future. Lin Yu is with me now, and he’s not doing well physically, so he’s really not suitable for recording variety shows.

He reiterated his stance.

– Is that so… Alright then, let the production team find other actors. If Lin Yu gets better and needs it, do bring him into the entertainment industry.

Sun Yali wasn’t concerned with the great film emperor Jiang Yan’s social circle, but she was extremely reluctant to miss out on this handsome boy. She still tried to negotiate.

– Okay, Sister Sun, I’m hanging up now.

– Alright, bye.

Jiang Yan waited for Sister Sun to hang up before turning to re-enter the patient room. Wang Jian had already set up Lin Yu’s IV drip and was conversing with him, his expression and tone reminiscent of someone coaxing a child.

“Let’s call it Youyou then. ‘Free and unrestrained’—how wonderful, and quite a lovely name,” Wang Jian even gave a thumbs-up in approval.

Lin Yu felt a little embarrassed; he was twenty-one, not three and a half.

“What ‘Youyou’?” Jiang Yan gently interjected into the conversation, smiling warmly as he looked at the docile Lin Yu.

Wang Jian quickly answered, “The poor little cat you risked your life to save. Lin Yu said he hopes the white kitten can live a lifetime freely, healthily, and happily, so he wants to name it Youyou.”

“Yes, that’s a beautiful name,” Jiang Yan immediately affirmed. “How did you come up with such a good name?”

Lin Yu’s cheeks flushed slightly; he really wasn’t three and a half…