Old Acquaintances  

Nightfall at Maplewood Farm.

Wenjay jolted awake from a chaotic nightmare, sitting up like a jack-in-the-box. He stared blankly at the white curtains dancing in the breeze on the patio. The haunting image of a bloody hole in the lunatic's forehead and Jian Wong's lifeless body on the ground refused to leave his mind.

What time is it? Wenjay wiped the sweat off his face and realized the clock was striking ten.

Eight hours. Eight hours since the horrific incident involving Jian and his son. He still couldn't shake off the shock.

He had never been this close to death before. When his grandpa passed away years ago, his mom had just dragged him by the hand for a distant glimpse outside the ICU.

Some things you don't realize are terrifying until you experience them.

"Woof woof!" Patton nudged open the door and ran in, his front paws on Wenjay, nuzzling him affectionately.

Ah, time to feed him… Wenjay gathered himself and headed downstairs with Patton.

He and Mingyoo had come straight back from the crime scene. The lunatic was shot dead by Zeeshow, and Jian Wong succumbed to his injuries. The only silver lining was that the explosives didn't go off, and all the hostages were safe.

Zeeshow was taken away by the Maplewood police. Before leaving, Highyang consulted Mingyoo, who didn't use the fake arrest warrant. Mingyoo silently smoked a cigarette at Jian's doorstep and then returned to Maplewood Farm with Wenjay.

They spent the entire afternoon in their respective rooms without any interaction. Wenjay had thrown himself on the bed and slept until the nightmare woke him up.

The kitchen light was on. As Wenjay entered, he saw a tall figure standing by the counter, fiddling with a fancy pasta machine.

Mingyoo was wearing a casual T-shirt, sweatpants, and dark green plaid slippers. His slender fingers were mixing flour and warm water. Behind him, something was simmering in an enamel pot on the stove, steam wafting. A few beads of sweat on his forehead, the tattoo behind his ear peeking out, he looked like a paradox of lazy sensuality and lurking danger.

"You're up?" Mingyoo glanced at him, grabbed a chef's knife, and started cutting the dough into squares. "Eat something before going back to sleep, or you'll wake up hungry."

Wenjay then realized that Patton was sent to fetch him. Although he wasn't really hungry, he appreciated the gesture and sat down opposite Mingyoo. "How are you holding up? How's your leg?"

"Hmm, I guess it's fine," Mingyoo turned down the heat and took a large bowl from the fridge. "Ever had this?"

In the bowl were diced lotus roots mixed with eggs, green onions, and ginger. It looked like some kind of filling. Wenjay looked at the dough Mingyoo had prepared and asked, "Is this... wonton?" He had never seen wontons with lotus root filling; usually, they were made with meat or shrimp.

"It's Bian Shi," Mingyoo picked up a piece of dough, wrapped the filling, and pinched it into a beautiful swallow shape. "A local specialty. Similar to wontons, but not quite the same."

The wrapping technique seemed different. Wenjay washed his hands and tried to mimic Mingyoo, gradually getting the hang of it. Mingyoo then left him to it and started making egg crepes.

The kitchen was calm and cozy. The air was filled with the savory aroma of mushroom soup, and the sizzling sound of eggs in the frying pan was like a gentle lullaby. Wenjay focused on the food in his hands, and the bloody images in his mind began to fade.

Suddenly, there was a noise at the window, and with a sprightly leap, a creature jumped in. It was Rommel, back from its nightly escapades. As usual, it held a squirrel in its mouth as a gift, even bigger than the last one, its tail still twitching.

"Woof woof!" Patton jumped up, wagging his tail eagerly. But Rommel, seeing Mingyoo, didn't pay much attention to Patton and hopped down with the squirrel, squatting at Mingyoo's feet.

"Back already?" Mingyoo nudged Rommel's head with his foot. The cat seemed to relish the attention, purring, and dropped the squirrel at Mingyoo's feet, meowing.

"For me?" Mingyoo bent down to look at the squirrel, winked at Rommel, and gestured towards Wenjay.

Rommel, looking somewhat reluctant, obediently picked up the squirrel and walked over to Wenjay, dropping it at his feet with a disgruntled "meow."

"Eh?" Wenjay looked at Mingyoo, then at Rommel, somewhat flabbergasted. "For me?"

"Meow," Rommel gave him a "you people are so troublesome" look, pushed the squirrel between Wenjay's feet, and gestured for him to play with it.

Wenjay's somber mood lightened up with this adorable interlude. He bent down to pick up the squirrel, and said to Rommel, "Thanks!"

"Meow," Rommel flicked its whiskers nonchalantly, turned, and scampered away to sit by Mingyoo again.

Mingyoo placed the egg crepes on a plate, and as he glanced at Wenjay, who was holding the squirrel in one hand and twirling its tail with the other, a subtle smile played on his lips. He took an empty cereal box from the cabinet and handed it to Wenjay, "Put it in here."

"Uh," Wenjay took the box and asked, "Can I set it free?"

"Do it tomorrow," Mingyoo pointed at Rommel, "otherwise, it'll get upset. And when it's upset, it gets all grumpy and throws a fit."

This little creature is quite a character.

After placing the squirrel in the box on the windowsill, Wenjay washed his hands and finished wrapping the Bian Shi. Mingyoo took two large bowls, lined them with shredded egg crepes, kelp, and daylilies, sprinkled some wood ear mushrooms, pickled mustard tuber, and dried shrimp, and poured the mushroom soup over it. A couple of drops of sesame oil, and the rich aroma filled the dining area.

Warm and delicious food is always the best comfort. Wenjay's face relaxed as he deeply inhaled the savory aroma.

Mingyoo turned off the stove, placed the cooked Bian Shi in the soup, and pushed a bowl towards Wenjay. As he did, he ruffled Wenjay's hair and said, "Eat up."

Wenjay felt a tingling sensation from his spine to the top of his head. He shivered involuntarily, and his ears turned inexplicably red. He scratched his head to hide his embarrassment and said, "Thanks."

This feeling… why does it seem familiar? Wenjay was lost in thought. As a kid who grew up without a dad, he had never experienced this kind of masculine, teasing yet affectionate gesture. But when Mingyoo's hand brushed the top of his head, there was a strangely familiar feeling.

Weird.

Maybe it was because he was really hungry, or maybe it was because Mingyoo's cooking was just that good, but Wenjay found his appetite and devoured a whole bowl of Bian Shi, still craving more.

Mingyoo saw the longing in Wenjay's eyes, typical of a food lover, and after swallowing the last Bian Shi from his own bowl, said, "If you want more, I'll make it next time. It's late, and it's not good to eat too much."

Wenjay, feeling a bit embarrassed, said, "I'll do the dishes. You should rest."

Mingyoo didn't argue and pushed his bowl towards Wenjay before lighting a cigarette and lounging back in his chair. Rommel, who had been lounging on Mingyoo's lap like a sultry queen, jumped out the window with a displeased "meow" at the smell of tobacco.

Wenjay put the dishes in the dishwasher and stood by the sink washing the enamel pot. He suddenly realized that the meal was entirely vegetarian, without a hint of meat. No wonder he could eat so much – having seen blood earlier, even a hint of meat would have made him throw up.

Mingyoo was such a considerate "fiancé."

"Feeling better?" Mingyoo asked after finishing his cigarette. His voice was a bit raspy but warm and soothing.

Wenjay felt a warmth in his heart and nodded. Mingyoo sighed and said, "It's my fault. I shouldn't have taken you to the scene today and exposed you to that."

Maybe it was because he was full, or his nerves were strengthened by the energy from the food, but Wenjay could now calmly recall the scene. He shook his head, placed the pot on the drying rack, and sat opposite Mingyoo. "It was unexpected. No one thought he would suddenly grab the gun." He thought about the moment before Zeeshow grabbed the gun and asked with confusion, "What happened then? It wasn't my imagination, right? Time seemed to freeze, and everyone's consciousness was gone for a few seconds. That's how he managed to snatch the gun from Highyang."

Mingyoo was silent. Wenjay pressed on, "Did you do it? The same thing happened the day you came back. You froze time and threw Jian out… So, did you create an opportunity for Zeeshow to kill that lunatic?"

"No," Mingyoo denied. "First, today was indeed an accident; I didn't expect him to do that. Secondly, the time freeze wasn't me; it was Zeeshow exerting his power. Only the one who causes it is unaffected."

Time freeze? Wenjay was astonished by this fantastical term. "Is all this real? Time freeze, supernatural cases, barriers…"

Mingyoo rubbed his forehead, "There are no barriers. What you felt as nightmares were probably spatial particle fluctuations caused by supernatural forces affecting the electrical vibrations in your brain."

"..." Wenjay was dazed by these complex scientific terms. "I didn't study much, don't trick me…"

"Listen," Mingyoo looked at him seriously. "I'm part of the Criminal Investigation Bureau's Supernatural Case Division. We investigate abnormal criminal cases nationwide. So, everything you've experienced in the last two days that can't be explained by science is normal, got it?"

Wenjay struggled to digest this, translating Mingyoo's words in his head to "I'm not exactly normal, so it's normal for you to encounter abnormal things when you're with me."

Is it too late to withdraw the marriage application?

"You'll get used to it," Mingyoo said sympathetically. "After all, we'll be going through the whole marriage and divorce rigmarole for several months. Try to take it in stride."

"Wait, wait!" Wenjay had a sudden brainwave and blurted out, "Why did you agree to this fake marriage with me? You're a law enforcement officer; why would you be so impulsive about something like this? Was it just because Yahlin asked?"

Mingyoo stared at him silently. After a moment, he broke into a knowing smile and took down a note from the fridge, writing something at the bottom.

"Wenjay Lee," Wenjay read aloud. "Mingyoo Jow."

Two distinct signatures. The first was Wenjay's name, in his own handwriting. The second was obviously Mingyoo's name, in his usual scrawling yet bold script.

Wenjay felt his heart racing for some unknown reason. He looked at Mingyoo, his mind strangely hazy. "Have I... have I met you somewhere before?"

Mingyoo snapped his fingers, stood up, and ruffled Wenjay's hair again. "It's late. Take a shower and get some good sleep."