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His lips curved lightly, in amusement. There it was again that shy look Lin Xin got whenever he was caught off guard. The way his lashes trembled and the way his voice softened when he gets flustered… it was strangely addictive.
The moment he gets praised, he panics like a startled cat, Han Yan mused, fighting the urge to chuckle like an idiot. And yet, that's what makes him even more adorable.
Wait. Adorable?
Did he really just think Lin Xin was adorable? Han Yan nearly groaned, mentally horrified. He seriously wanted to grab those thoughts, crush it, and toss it straight out the nearest window.
Han Yan chuckled inwardly as he tried to keep a straight face. "If this is just soup, then I might start hoping for just soup every day from now on."
Lin Xin blinked, clearly at a loss for words. "You!" he stammered softly, lowering his gaze but a faint, unwilling smile tugged at his lips.
Han Yan caught it, a quiet laugh slipping out before he lifted his bowl. Somehow, his little reaction felt more satisfying than the meal itself.
Dong Hai, mouth still full, mumbled, "It's not just soup. It's so delicious!" Then, after swallowing, he added seriously, "You should eat more, Big Brother Han. I heard you fell from the mountain maybe a good meal will fix it."
Han Yan nearly choked, caught off guard by the bluntness. "Is that so?" he asked, the corner of his mouth twitching.
Dong Hai nodded firmly. "That's what Grandma always says. Good food makes people feel better."
Lin Xin's chopsticks paused mid-air, something flickering in his eyes before he smiled faintly. "That does sound like her," he said lightly. "Dong Hai, don't talk while your mouth's full or you'll choke."
Dong Hai pouted but obediently took another careful spoonful.
Lin Xin glanced at Han Yan, voice soft. "You should eat too, before it gets cold."
The air warmed again, the calm quiet between them like the gentle heat of the soup sinking into their bones.
Han Yan looked at both of them, Lin Xin's face looked lovely under the glow of the oil lamp while Dong Hai's determined little frown as he hunted the last bits of mushroom and something in his chest eased. For a moment, these two people felt like something real, something that might even belong to him alone.
Outside, the wind brushed the paper windows, carrying the faint murmur of a settling village.
Dong Hai yawned, leaning against Lin Xin's arm with sleepy defiance, the little boy was already tired from all the day's excitement.
With all the bowls now emptied and the air now cooled. Han Yan crouched by the stove in the small hall, he had moved it inside now the small hall was very warm.
The faint orange glow of the fire painted his face in shifting light. He slid another piece of wood into the flames and watched sparks flare as the water in the iron pot began to boil.
Steam curled upward, soft and white, blurring the edges of his reflection. He poked at the embers, just enough to keep them alive.
From inside came Lin Xin's gentle voice coaxing Dong Hai to wash up before bedtime. Han Yan smiled faintly to himself as he heard their voices.
He checked the water before adding a little cool water from the near empty jars, he thought about how he'd fetch more later and nodded in quiet satisfaction.
If only there were a gas cooker, he couldn't help but think with a low sigh. One twist and the flame would be perfect. No smoke, no ashes or even squatting until your back aches. He snorted under his breath.
And a light switch wouldn't hurt either. Maybe even a nice bath with warm water straight from the shower. Hah… wishful thinking.
But as he thought back in the modern world, it would've taken at most ten or fifteen minutes. Just from turning a knob and its done.
But here, it was smoke in his eyes and arching back. He sighed again, shoulders slumping pitifully.
Lin Xin sat close to him, setting the folded cloths nearby. "You brought it here?" he asked softly, the firelight painting gold along his lashes.
Han Yan's mouth curved. "Someone has to make sure the water's hot enough for you two to bath. Can't have you both freezing in your sleep."
Lin Xin blinked, flustered. "I… I could have handled it, you're still recovering" he murmured, eyes darting aside.
"Mm." Han Yan hummed, amused. "I'm sure you could and I told you am okay."
Dong Hai, already half-asleep, mumbled something from the corner getting both of their attention.
"Dong Hai," Lin Xin called softly. "Come here. It's time to take your bath before it gets too late."
Dong Hai rubbed his eyes. "Now?" he mumbled, but seeing Han Yan waiting, he shuffled over.
"Now," Han Yan said, patient but firm. He carried the bamboo bucket to the small washing corner separated by a bamboo screen, the floor still faintly warm from the fire.
Lin Xin rose up to help, but Han Yan shook his head. "It's fine. You've done enough today. Let him finish first then you can bath after."
Lin Xin hesitated, then nodded quietly. "Alright."
Water splashed as Dong Hai washed up, while Han Yan stayed near, adding more warm water when needed.
When the boy was done and bundled into a dry outer robe, he yawned wide.
"Go on," Han Yan murmured, patting his shoulder. "Go get some sleep."
Han Yan poured more hot water into the wooden basin that was already in the washing corner. "Here the water's ready," he said quietly. "Don't take too long, or it'll get cold."
Lin Xin nodded, gathering his robe and stepping behind the bamboo screen. The soft rustle of fabric followed, then the gentle splash of water followed later.
Han Yan immediately turned to the fire like it was the most fascinating thing in existence. He poked at the wood a little too forcefully. It's just water, he told himself. People bath every day. Nothing strange about it… so why am I feeling this way?
The water rippled again too loudly soft and steady. Han Yan's shoulders stiffened.
Just stay calm, he told himself. Normal evening is totally normal.
He tried to focus on the fire, but every sound felt amplified the dripping, the faint rustle of cloth, even the quiet exhale of breath.
Then, the bamboo screen shifted slightly.
"Yan-ge," Lin Xin's voice came out quietly. "Could you pass the drying cloth?"
Han Yan froze. "Ah...right."
He grabbed the soft linen cloth and held it out at arm's length, eyes firmly fixed on the floor. "Here you go."
A pale hand reached out from behind the bamboo screen. For one ridiculous second, Han Yan even forgot how to breathe.
"Thanks," Lin Xin said softly, as he closed the bamboo screen fully.
"You're… welcome," Han Yan muttered, then resumed poking the fire like it had personally offended him.
A moment later, Lin Xin stepped out, dressed in a fresh robe, his damp hair falling loosely over his shoulders. The faint scent of soap herbs drifted through the air clean, sharp, and far too distracting.
Han Yan looked back at the fire as if it might reveal the meaning of life.
"Finished?" he asked, while he battled to sound as casual as he could be.
"Yes," Lin Xin replied softly, He avoided eye contact as he squeezed the water from his hair with a cloth. "Th-thank you… again."
"Mm." Han Yan nodded without looking up. "No problem."
From the corner of his eye, he could see Lin Xin moving quietly to hang the damp cloth outside near the window. The simple motion was calm and graceful which only made Han Yan's chest tighten for no good reason.
Lin Xin glanced back, his voice low and uncertain. "Um… you can stop torturing the firewood now… I think."
Han Yan blinked, confused. "What?"
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