Lovely Allergen: Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Appreciation Time Limit

Early dating?

A large pot dropped down from the sky, and it knocked Yue Zhishi senseless. “No…” He frowned, his hand still docilely holding onto that earphone, and he muttered quietly to himself, “I’m not early dating.”

He’d even solemnly and seriously rejected her, too.

Curving his head, he once again looked at Song Yu and loudly retorted, “I’m not early dating!”

Song Yu continued to remain silent, and so Yue Zhishi could only ponder by himself. He only understood once he remembered what’d happened in that third floor corridor near the infirmary. “Were you standing underneath the entire time? You’ve misunderstood, I was giving back the present she gave me.”

Other than the girl’s details, Yue Zhishi described the entire matter in detail without leaving a single thing out. He was like a child in kindergarten who’d obediently report every day what had happened that day in school — he talked about it vividly and descriptively, worried he’d miss out on some detail.

One of them talked the entire way while the other silently listened. The bike left the broad and spacious roads and entered into winding and circular alleys, approaching its destination as it rode underneath the waves of undulating Chinese parasol tree leaves.

“I didn’t even accept her confession. I treated her to a drink because I was worried she’d be upset about being rejected. Besides, I bought her a coke and I also bought Jiang Yuan a coke — but for you, I…”

He suddenly stopped talking at this point. He didn’t know why, but the more Yue Zhishi spoke, the more he felt a bit wronged. He thought of the confession wall those girls had talked about during the opening ceremony.

“Didn’t someone also confess to you? You know, that Peiya confession wall. I’m going to tell on you too.” He was saying threatening words, but they came out of his mouth without any intimidation at all; he even lowered his voice without realising, turning particularly weak and feeble. After a pause, Yue Zhishi said, exaggerating, “The girls in my class were talking about it so enthusiastically. Maybe the entire school’s heard about it by now.”

The bike braked sharply, Yue Zhishi smacking right into Song Yu’s back. They were pressed tightly together, and Yue Zhishi’s unfinished final syllable was swallowed right back into his throat.

“The entire school’s heard more than just the confession.”

Song Yu finally opened his mouth, and he also ordered Yue Zhishi to get off.

Of course Yue Zhishi knew what he was talking about. “I didn’t do it on purpose, I wasn’t feeling well then. I said it accidentally…” He followed closely behind Song Yu like a little shadow. “What should we do? People around us heard, there shouldn’t be anyone who doesn’t know by now.”

Song Yu didn’t offer him any solutions, heading inside after locking his bike.

After explaining so much, it felt like gege hadn’t gotten any happier — it looked like he was unhappy because of something else.

The bike was parked in front of a steel grey villa house. A tall magnolia tree was planted in front of the courtyard gate, and the courtyard was meticulously cared for. The house had been built in the European-style popular during China’s Republic era, and after it was refurbished, it had been decorated very simply. A massive boulder as tall as a person was placed in front of the entrance, and four characters were engraved onto it: Yanghe Qizhe.

This was a private restaurant Song Yu’s mother, Lin Rong, had established as her personal hobby.

Song Yu lifted up the door curtain, Yue Zhishi entering behind him. A guest who’d made a booking was already sitting inside: Grandpa Zhang. He’d been a regular guest since the restaurant opened. He was a retired university professor, and as soon as he saw the two of them come in, he laughed and started to tease, “Xiao Rong, your family’s older and younger handsome boys are back.”

Hearing the noise, Lin Rong came out of the kitchen. She was holding a small plate of candied peaches, and she glanced at Yue Zhishi and Song Yu with a smile, placing the plate down onto the table.

Yue Zhishi was someone easily likeable. Without waiting for Lin Rong to speak, he’d already obediently greeted Grandpa Zhang. Song Yu gave him a slight nod, using it as a greeting.

“Le Le’s gotten taller again. But he’s still a bit shorter than his older brother.”

Lin Rong pulled off the schoolbag hanging from Yue Zhishi’s shoulder and said, “They are separated by three years. Le Le’s still young, and he doesn’t have a strong body. He’s already grown quite quickly.”

Yue Zhishi emphasised a number not too many people cared about. “I’m 176cm.”

Song Yu, the tallest person in the entire restaurant, didn’t participate in their height discussion and walked by himself into the private room at the very back. That was a lounge room; Lin Rong had specifically prepared it for the two brothers.

Taking out an extremely exquisitely packaged meal, Lin Rong handed it to Professor Zhang with two hands. “You should eat it while it’s still warm.”

“You’ve worked hard.” Professor Zhang was extremely happy. “My wife likes this one the most, and she’s been craving it. I’ll head back now.”

“Bye, Grandpa Zhang.” Yue Zhishi proactively walked him to the door.

When the restaurant first opened, Le Le and Song Yu had still been in elementary school. Lin Rong, who was only doing this as a hobby, worked only Monday and Friday and served privately cooked food reserved ahead of time. There hadn’t even been a menu; everything had been at her discretion. Guests had come one after the other, and once word started to spread, more and more people had come. A bunch of people made reservations one month ahead of time, and so later, Lin Rong had expanded her working hours to four days a week. It had also been convenient for the allergic Yue Zhishi to come eat during lunch.

Their lunch was as abundant as ever, golden yellow deep fried lotus root balls completely flowing over the white porcelain bowl. Yue Zhishi had stolen one away as soon as the dish had been brought over. He bit down — it was crispy on the outside and soft on the inside and was sweeter than a meatball. Compared to the usual veggie balls that were mixed with flour, the lotus root paste had a similar mouthfeel to meat after being boiled, mashed and mixed. It was soft yet chewy, fragrant and delicious.

“Lotus root balls are the most delicious balls in the world.” Yue Zhishi hadn’t even finished it yet when he stuffed into his mouth a chicken foot that had been braised until it was falling apart. It was covered in a thick red sauce, and with just a gentle suck, the chicken foot came apart.

More than one person had said Yue Zhishi ate very well; someone had even suggested for him to do an eating show. Watching him eat made it very easy for others to have a good appetite.

Lin Rong came in with some rock sugar lotus root soup. “Was your opening ceremony fun?” She rested a hand on Song Yu’s shoulder, but her eyes were focused on Yue Zhishi. “How was Song Yu’s speech? He didn’t forget his lines, did he?”

Yue Zhishi had been frantically pushing food into his mouth like a little hamster; he now abruptly paused, his cheeks bulging.

“Aiyah, he actually did?”

“No.” Song Yu ignored Yue Zhishi’s blinking hints and scooped himself a bowl of the lotus root soup. “It’s just that something happened.”

The chicken foot in Yue Zhishi’s mouth was suddenly no longer delicious.

No way — he said he wouldn’t say it.

“What happened?” Lin Rong’s face was covered with curiosity.

Song Yu lightly threw a look at Yue Zhishi. “Him.”

“Le Le? What happened to Le Le?”

Yue Zhishi was ridiculously flustered, his eyes flying back and forth between Song Yu and Lin Rong, and he even shook his head to clear himself ahead of time. “I didn’t…”

“He didn’t wear his name badge. He got caught and scolded.” Song Yu took a sip of the soup and then raised his head to look at the astonished Yue Zhishi. “He was even almost late.”

That wasn’t quite the story he’d imagined Song Yu would say.

“Name badge?” Lin Rong quietly exclaimed, “Ah, it was me. I took off both badges when I was doing laundry. I think I accidentally left both badges in gege’s room — it was my fault, my fault.”

She then looked at Yue Zhishi apologetically, only to see the name badge pinned to his chest. “Eh, why do you have it?”

Yue Zhishi guilty explained, “Gege gave it to me.”

A waiter outside called for Lin Rong, and she hurriedly responded and left. Yue Zhishi let out a breath in relief and uneasily looked at Song Yu, who’d covered up for him.

“I ruined your speech. I’m sorry. I won’t eat the wrong thing again.”

The lotus root soup had been chilled, so Song Yu had felt much better after finishing a small bowl — his temper had also eased. But as soon as he heard this incorrect apology, his face cooled down once again.

Was him interrupting his speech the issue?

Except Yue Zhishi had a pitiful look on his face, so Song Yu held back his temper and asked, “What about your medicine?”

Faced with this sudden question, Yue Zhishi froze. He softly explained, “I finished my previous one. I was carrying a new one today, but there wasn’t enough time for me to open the packaging earlier when we headed to the gym so I left it in the classroom.” He then added, “I didn’t think I would have an attack…”

Song Yu directly asked in response, “Then have you thought about what would happen if I wasn’t there today?”

Yue Zhishi was stunned by that question.

If Song Yu hadn’t been there today, he definitely would’ve been in true danger with such a large intake of his allergen.

He didn’t speak. Song Yu coldly said, “I can’t always be next to you.”

“Why?” Yue Zhishi looked at him, frowning.

The dangerous consequences of his allergy frightened him less than what Song Yu had just said. He couldn’t imagine Song Yu not being by his side one day in the future.

“I’ll bring my medicine with me every day. Something like this won’t happen again.” Yue Zhishi lowered his eyes. “I really will remember now.”

Song Yu hadn’t wanted Yue Zhishi to keep apologising, but whenever he thought about what happened today, he couldn’t control his emotions.

But after a moment of silence, he didn’t continue. “Eat.” He once again filled up his bowl with some lotus root soup. Holding a porcelain spoon, he scooped out the goji berries within the lotus seed and lotus root soup and placed them into another bowl.

They’d grown up together; they’d gone through eleven years together. Yue Zhishi could completely read and understand the tones in Song Yu’s voice. Him saying something like that meant the matter was finished. Yue Zhishi’s heart relaxed, and so he happily made a noise in assent and grabbed his chopsticks to give Song Yu some spicy and sour lotus stems again and again. “Eat this.”

That was Song Yu’s favourite dish since he’d been a child. He didn’t need anything complicated; the tender yet crunchy texture of the lotus stems was better than any other vegetable. The lotus stems were lotus roots that had yet to mature and were the thickness of a finger, delicate and narrow. After cutting them diagonally into sections, they were thrown into a wok and stir-fried with some dried peppers. Mature vinegar was poured over them before taking them out of the wok, and once their small openings were filled with the juices, they turned refreshingly crisp while being both spicy and sour. It was a special summertime aquatic plant — they were no longer available after September. They were also delicate, so it was very difficult to keep them fresh over a long distance. Many cities weren’t able to bring them in.

“It would be so nice if we could eat lotus stems all throughout the year.”

Hearing this, Song Yu pushed that bowl of lotus root soup towards Yue Zhishi. His voice was fairly emotionless as he said, “If you had it every day, you wouldn’t find it delicious anymore.”

Things became precious and valuable only when they could be appreciated for a short time.

If it was available every day, there would be less novelty and anticipation.

“I wouldn’t.”

He didn’t think Yue Zhishi would retort so directly; there was some surprise in Song Yu’s eyes.

With a steadfast voice, Yue Zhishi carried the certainty of a child as he said, “If I like something, I’d be willing to eat it every single day. What would be the point in eating something I don’t like just for the sake of variety? It would be best if it was placed in front of me every day.”

Song Yu’s chopsticks paused. “You wouldn’t get tired of it?”

Yue Zhishi hesitated for a moment, not answering immediately. Song Yu didn’t wait for an answer and quietly continued eating by himself.

“If it’s my favourite, I won’t get tired of it.” Yue Zhishi stressed the word ‘favourite’ very heavily, as though this was an answer he’d considered carefully.

Song Yu became a bit lost in his thoughts and was caught by surprise when Yue Zhishi stuffed a lotus root ball into his mouth. Song Yu frowned, a baffled look on his face.

“I’m giving you my favourite lotus root balls.” Yue Zhishi gazed at him with his face upturned, looking exactly the same as when he’d first arrived to Song Yu’s family.

Back then, Yue Zhishi had clung onto Song Yu every day. He hadn’t understood anything, and he also hadn’t really been able to speak Chinese — but he’d expressed himself with very straightforward actions. Every night before going to sleep, Song Yu would find some strange little toys next to his pillow; they were sometimes even hidden beneath his pillow, and Song Yu wouldn’t realise it until his head landed on them.

Song Yu had taken away those little toys every time, but the next night, he would once again see them next to his pillow.

On a certain day later, Song Yu coincidentally managed to catch the ‘perpetrator’ after he came out of the shower. He saw Yue Zhishi on his tiptoes, stretching out his pudgy arm over Song Yu’s bed and placing a small firetruck and astronaut next to Song Yu’s pillow.

After being caught, Yue Zhishi couldn’t really explain himself; simple Chinese vocabulary had been interspersed within English, and he’d kept babbling on and on. Song Yu had understood only after a long while: Yue Zhishi had wanted to give him his favourite toys and have them accompany him to sleep.

At that time, Song Yu had rejected him very decisively. “I don’t want your toys. I’m not a child.”

Yue Zhishi had cried, but when it was night time, he had once again held onto his toys and softly said a bunch of strange English to Song Yu, telling him — this one is honestly really nice, this is my favourite toy.

In the end, Song Yu had given up and told Yue Zhishi he could only leave behind his small firetruck. Pushing the astronaut back into Yue Zhishi’s hand, Song Yu had said, “One’s enough.”

That night, Song Yu had fiddled with the small firetruck while in bed with his face blank. He didn’t know what random switch he’d pressed, but the front of the firetruck lit up and a siren started to ring; it wouldn’t stop. He dreamed all night because of it, dreaming that the small milky ball wouldn’t stop crying and wouldn’t let go of him. It had honestly been the scariest nightmare.

It had been so many years, and yet he hadn’t changed at all.

Once they finished eating, the two of them cleared the table. Two tatami mats had been rolled up and left by the wall, so they grabbed them and prepared to take an afternoon nap.

“Is third year of high school hard? I hear you guys finish a pen refill every three days.” After putting down a pillow, Yue Zhishi laid down and gazed at Song Yu.

Song Yu pulled out an issue of National Geographic from the bookshelf and flipped through it. “I just started third year.”

That was true. And besides, Song Yu was so smart — it shouldn’t be so hard for him. Yue Zhishi looked at the ceiling. He was reluctant to go to high school; he already couldn’t finish the amount of homework they were given now, so he really might die in high school.

His allergy and asthma hadn’t been able to kill him. It would be slightly too embarrassing to die because of homework.

Seeing Yue Zhishi still blinking at the ceiling, Song Yu put down his magazine and ordered, “Sleep.”

Yue Zhishi let out an ‘oh’ and closed his eyes.

Song Yu threw over a summer quilt once Yue Zhishi had finally settled down. He only laid down after turning up the aircon two more degrees.

Yue Zhishi looked very docile with his eyes closed. That pair of large eyes seemed to be the sole container of all his energy, so once they were closed, he turned much frailer, much paler. Song Yu had no choice but to remember how he’d looked that morning as he’d suffered through his attack.

Feelings and emotions were all archived — people could be brought back to a certain moment at any given instant.

So many adults described children as having grown up rapidly, especially if they hadn’t seen them for a while. During a random meeting, they would be astonished at how this child grew up so suddenly. But Yue Zhishi had clearly grown up together with him; they’d been together every single day — and yet Song Yu still felt that way.

Seeing Yue Zhishi lying there so peacefully, Song Yu couldn’t help but think of how Yue Zhishi had looked the first time he’d stayed in the hospital because of an allergic attack. He’d been just as peaceful as now, small and tiny.

That was the first time six year old Song Yu had understood what danger meant.

“Song Yu gege.” Yue Zhishi abruptly opened his eyes and turned over. He came face to face with Song Yu, and it caught Song Yu by surprise. They were very close.

Just as he was about to scold him for not sleeping, Yue Zhishi asked, an innocent look on his face —

“Do you remember my first allergic attack? What was it like?”

The author has something to say:
Lotus stems saikou! Are there still friends who haven’t tried lotus stems before? You definitely have to try them, eat fresh ones!

Lotus root balls are also super yummy~

Don’t pay too much attention to Le Le’s height, he’s mixed after all so it’s pretty normal for him to be taller earlier (hint: have you guys seen guys who madly sprouted height during junior high and then stop growing in high school?)

Feels like some readers care a bit about the titles used. This book is set in Wuhan, and Wuhan people speak southwest Mandarin dialect with their language habits relatively biased towards the southern part of China. Everyone knows people from the north use single word titles like ‘ge’ and ‘jie’ more often or would add a single character from people’s names like ‘Yu ge’, but people from the south very rarely use single words. It’s always doubled up like gege/jiejie, and it’s the same when they’re speaking standard Mandarin. And this doesn’t change according to gender. When I write, I’m rather biased towards southern speaking habits (of course, this doesn’t mean I think everyone from southern China speaks the same way — people definitely speak differently with each family and each household having their own habits)

As to why it’s ‘Song Yu gege’, Le Le actually used ‘Xiao Yu gege’ as a child (you guys will see it later), but after growing up, Song Yu disliked it, finding it too cheesy, and had Le Le change to his full name (there’ll be moments you’ll beg him to call you that)

Translator has something to say:
– The title is 赏味期限, which actually refers to a ‘best before date’ aka the date on food packaging telling you when you should eat it by.
– The lotus root soup is similar to the black sesame soup dessert. Commercially, the lotus roots are turned into a powder and then you eat it by mixing it some hot boiled water. Not sure if Lin Rong made it by hand or not though!
– Lotus stems and lotus roots are the same thing (the stems are baby roots), I just used different terminology to make things clearer in English (esp since they’re called different things in Chinese).
– Zhichu’s ‘saikou’ is Japanese haha and means ‘the best’ or ‘supreme’.

22 January 2022 edit: Due to certain reasons, only Chapters 1-5 are unlocked to the public. All other chapters are password locked. If you would like to continue reading post Chapter 5, please fill in this form. Thank you for your understanding.

Chapter 6: A Sudden Heavy Storm