Chapter 112: Chestnuts
By the time Wen Yan finished filling the last page of the photo album, the ginkgo leaves outside were falling in a flurry of gold. The yellow leaves swirled down, landing on the balcony wind chimes with a gentle tinkle. He turned around clutching the album and bumped right into Pei Zhouye’s chest. The man had just returned from the company, still carrying a hint of autumn chill, yet he immediately reached out to steady him. “Slow down, don’t fall.”
“Look, it’s full.” Wen Yan held the album up before him, his eyes shining as if filled with starlight. From the Polaroid of the Aurora in Iceland to the silly photo of them bundled in the same down jacket in Shencheng’s snow, to the candid shot of their kiss at the seaside ceremony captured by Shen Yao—every page was packed tight. The corners were even decorated with small suns and hearts Wen Yan had drawn.
Pei Zhouye took the album, his fingertips lightly tracing Wen Yan’s smiling face in the photos. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I’ll buy two more tomorrow. One for home, one for the cabin.” As he leaned down, his hair brushed against Wen Yan’s forehead, carrying a faint scent of cedarwood. It was the laundry detergent Wen Yan had picked out in Switzerland last year; Pei Zhouye had never changed it since, even using that scent for his spare shirts at the office.
“No rush,” Wen Yan stood on his tiptoes and rested his chin on the man’s shoulder. “We’ll wait until we go see the maple leaves next month. We can fill them then once we have new photos.” He had already scouted out Maple Leaf Valley in the suburbs; he heard that by early November, the leaves would be as red as fire, and they could stay overnight at a guesthouse in the valley to watch the stars nestled in the maple branches.
Pei Zhouye squeezed his waist and answered with a smile, “Alright, anything you want. But we have to go to the supermarket tomorrow. The chestnuts you wanted to eat are in season. We’ll buy a bag of flour too, and I’ll make you a chestnut cake.”
Wen Yan’s eyes grew even brighter. He had eaten a chestnut cake at Professor Zhang’s house last autumn and had casually remarked that it was “delicious”; Pei Zhouye had remembered it until now. In truth, he wasn’t particularly craving cake; he just loved the sight of Pei Zhouye wearing an apron, slowly whisking cream in the kitchen. With the sunlight falling on his hair and flour occasionally dusting the tip of his nose, it was a sight more grounding than any scenery.
Early the next morning, Pei Zhouye pulled Wen Yan to the supermarket. Chestnuts were piled high like small mountains in the fresh produce section. Wen Yan squatted down to pick them out, selecting only the thin-shelled, plump ones. Pei Zhouye stood by with the shopping basket, placing the chestnuts Wen Yan selected inside while offering a reminder: “Don’t take too many; eating too many causes bloating.”
“Just a few more.” Wen Yan grabbed another handful and stuffed them into the basket. “Besides cake, we can make chestnut porridge, and roasted chestnuts are delicious too.”
Pei Zhouye gave a helpless laugh and reached out to wipe a bit of chestnut fuzz from the corner of Wen Yan’s mouth. “Alright, alright. Whatever you say.”
Leaving the supermarket, they went to a flower shop. Wen Yan wanted to buy a few bouquets of sunflowers for the living room vase, but Pei Zhouye stopped in front of a pot of mint. “The mint at home needs replacing; let’s buy a new pot.” Last time, the mint Wen Yan planted had withered under the sun, and he had lamented it for days.
Wen Yan nodded and bent down to sniff the mint. The crisp, cool scent instantly chased away the autumn dryness. “Let’s buy a pot of daisies too,” he said, pointing to a pot of white daisies. “They’ll look nice in the study; it’ll be comfortable to look at them while reading.”
Pei Zhouye naturally agreed. As they headed home clutching the flowers and chestnuts, they passed the fruit stall at the complex entrance. The owner greeted them with a smile, “Mr. Pei, Mr. Wen! I just got some oranges in, they’re very sweet. Want some?”
Wen Yan was about to refuse, but Pei Zhouye had already pulled out his wallet. “I’ll take two jin.” He knew Wen Yan was prone to coughing in the winter; orange water was good for soothing the throat. Last time Wen Yan coughed for two days, Pei Zhouye had boiled orange water for him every day until he was completely better.
Back home, Pei Zhouye headed to the kitchen to process the chestnuts while Wen Yan tended to the plants on the balcony. He planted the mint in the old ceramic pot and moved the daisies into a beautiful porcelain one, placing them on the study windowsill. The sunlight filtered through the window onto the white petals, looking incredibly gentle.
“Wen Yan, come over and peel the chestnuts.” Pei Zhouye’s voice drifted from the kitchen. Wen Yan ran over to find that Pei Zhouye had already washed the chestnuts and was boiling a pot of water, preparing to score the shells. “I’ll do the peeling.” He rolled up his sleeves, picked up a chestnut, and used a small knife to make a light cut, but accidentally nicked his finger.
“Careful!” Pei Zhouye immediately set down his chestnut and grabbed Wen Yan’s hand to check. Fortunately, it was just a small nick and didn’t bleed. He turned to get a band-aid and returned with a small stool, making Wen Yan sit down. “Sit while you peel. Don’t stand; it’s tiring.”
Wen Yan sat obediently, watching Pei Zhouye continue to score the chestnuts. The man’s fingers moved nimbly, and before long, a large bowl was processed. “How are you so good at this?” Wen Yan couldn’t help but ask.
Pei Zhouye looked up at him, a smile in his eyes. “I learned it from my mother. She was best at making chestnut cakes.” He rarely spoke of his family. Wen Yan knew his parents had passed away early and felt a pang of heartache, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “In the future, I’ll make them with you. We’ll learn how to make chestnut cakes together.”
Pei Zhouye flipped his hand to grip Wen Yan’s, his fingertips lightly tracing his palm. “Alright.”
They spent the entire afternoon peeling chestnuts until the chestnut paste was finally ready. Pei Zhouye began whisking the cream while Wen Yan helped by handing him things, occasionally sneaking a taste of the paste—it was so sweet he squinted his eyes. “Stop sneaking tastes,” Pei Zhouye tapped his nose. “Save it for the cake.”
“Just one more bite.” Wen Yan scooped another spoonful and popped it into his mouth. “It’s too good. Even better than the ones at Professor Zhang’s.”
Pei Zhouye shook his head with a smile. He spread the whipped cream over the cake base, followed by a layer of chestnut paste. Finally, he used a piping bag to squeeze a small heart onto the cake and placed two whole chestnuts on top as decoration. “Done,” he said, placing the cake in the fridge. “It’ll be ready to eat after chilling for two hours.”
Wen Yan leaned against the fridge door, waiting expectantly like a kitten waiting for a treat. Pei Zhouye laughed at his expression, pulled him over to the sofa, turned on the television, and selected an art film Wen Yan liked. “Wait a bit longer,” he said, pulling Wen Yan into his arms. “Watch the movie with me for a while first.”
In the movie, the leads confessed their love under autumn maple trees. Leaning in Pei Zhouye’s arms, Wen Yan suddenly spoke: “Pei Zhouye, when we go to Maple Leaf Valley, let’s take photos under the trees too, okay? Just like them.”
“Okay.” Pei Zhouye leaned down to kiss the crown of his head. “I’ll take plenty of photos of you to fill the new albums.”
Two hours passed quickly. Wen Yan couldn’t wait to open the fridge and take out the chestnut cake. The cream was still cool, and the aroma of the chestnut paste was mouth-watering. He cut a piece and held it to Pei Zhouye’s lips. “You taste it first.”
Pei Zhouye took a bite. It was sweet but not cloying, the chestnut flavor spreading through his mouth alongside a faint hint of cream. “It’s delicious,” he said sincerely.
Wen Yan also cut a piece and ate it, his eyes squinting in satisfaction. “It really is! Let’s make chestnut cake every autumn, okay?”
“Alright, every autumn.” Pei Zhouye agreed with a smile.
The days passed, and soon it was time for the trip to Maple Leaf Valley. Pei Zhouye had booked the guesthouse in advance and prepared thick coats, fearing the mountain air would be cold. As the car drove into the valley, Wen Yan was instantly stunned. The mountains were covered in maple trees, their leaves as red as fire. As the wind blew, the leaves rustled down like a crimson snowfall.
“It’s so beautiful!” Wen Yan pushed the car door open and rushed out, stepping onto the thick carpet of leaves that made a “crunch-crunch” sound. Pei Zhouye followed behind with his camera, documenting Wen Yan as he ran, as he laughed, and even as he squatted to pick up leaves.
“Pei Zhouye, look at this leaf!” Wen Yan held up a maple leaf; it was an exceptionally vibrant red with delicate patterns along the edges. Pei Zhouye walked over, took the leaf, and carefully tucked it into the notebook he carried. “For a memento.”
They wandered through the valley all afternoon until the sun began to set before reluctantly returning to the guesthouse. The guesthouse was a wooden structure with several maples planted in the courtyard and red lanterns hanging at the door—exceptionally cozy. The landlady brought them two mugs of hot ginger tea. “It gets cold in the mountains at night; drink some ginger tea to warm your bodies.”
Wen Yan took a sip; the warm liquid slid down his throat, heating his entire body. He leaned by the window, watching the maple leaves in the yard swirl in the wind. “Pei Zhouye, let’s come here every year, okay?”
“Alright.” Pei Zhouye sat beside him and took his hand. “Every autumn. We’ll see the leaves, stay at the guesthouse, and eat the landlady’s home-cooked food.”
That night, the two lay in bed looking at the stars through the skylight. The mountain stars were exceptionally bright, looking like a scattering of crushed diamonds, with the occasional shooting star streaking across the sky. Wen Yan quickly closed his eyes to make a wish. Watching him, Pei Zhouye asked with a smile, “What did you wish for?”
“I’m not telling you, or it won’t come true.” Wen Yan winked playfully, though in his heart he was thinking: I hope every year I can watch the leaves and the stars with Pei Zhouye, and spend every ordinary day together.
Early the next morning, they returned to the valley, specifically seeking out the largest maple tree to take many photos under. Wen Yan leaned against Pei Zhouye as they smiled for the camera; the sunlight filtered through the leaves onto them, as warm as melted sugar.
As they left Maple Leaf Valley, Wen Yan looked back several times with reluctance. Pei Zhouye smiled. “Don’t worry, we’ll be back next year.”
Upon returning home, Wen Yan immediately developed the photos and pinned them into the new album. He also tucked the leaf he picked up into the album, writing “Autumn 2024, Maple Leaf Valley” beside it. Watching him work, Pei Zhouye’s heart was full of warmth.
Life continued in its rhythm, and winter soon arrived. When the first snow fell, Wen Yan excitedly pulled Pei Zhouye to the beach to see the snow. The snow fell on the sand, turning the beach white, and as the waves hit the rocks, the spray instantly turned into ice flowers.
“It’s truly beautiful.” Wen Yan leaned in Pei Zhouye’s arms, his heart full of happiness as he watched the snow. Pei Zhouye wrapped him tighter, fearing he’d catch a cold. “Is it cold? If it is, we’ll go back.”
“It’s not.” Wen Yan shook his head. “I want to watch a bit longer.”
They stood by the sea for a long time until the snow began to fall heavier before slowly heading home. Once inside, Pei Zhouye quickly made Wen Yan a cup of hot cocoa and baked a few cookies. Sitting on the sofa, drinking cocoa and eating cookies while watching the snow outside, Wen Yan suddenly spoke: “Pei Zhouye, let’s plant cherry trees next spring. We’ll put them in the cabin courtyard. Flowers in the summer, fruit in the autumn, and then we can eat cherries we grew ourselves.”
“Alright.” Pei Zhouye ruffled his hair. “I’ll look up cherry sapling varieties tomorrow and pick the sweetest one.”
Wen Yan nodded with a smile, leaned into Pei Zhouye’s arms, and closed his eyes. He knew the days ahead were long; they would plant cherry trees together, watch the blossoms together, and eat cherries together. They would go to Africa to see the savannah, the lions, and the giraffes. They would go to Antarctica to see the penguins and the world covered in ice and snow. They would walk through many more springs, summers, autumns, and winters, creating many more memories.
And those paths they walked together, the scenery they saw together, and the things they did together would be like pieces of sweet candy tucked away in time—whenever they remembered them, their hearts would feel warm. As long as he had Pei Zhouye by his side, no matter what difficulties he faced or what storms he endured, he wouldn’t be afraid. Because they would face them together, overcome them together, and walk through every ordinary and happy day together, until forever.
In the spring, they planted the cherry saplings. In the summer, the cherry trees were covered in white blossoms. In the autumn, the trees were heavy with red cherries. In the winter, they sat before the fireplace, eating cherry jam and drinking the wine they had brewed themselves. Year after year, life was peaceful and happy; every season held its own memories, and every memory was full of warmth.
Wen Yan would often flip through their photo albums, looking at the pictures and remembering those beautiful times, his heart full of gratitude. Gratitude to fate for bringing them together, to Pei Zhouye for his constant companionship and protection, and for being able to walk through so many days and create so many beautiful memories together.
Pei Zhouye would also often look at Wen Yan’s smiling face and feel that he was the happiest person in the world. He knew that as long as he had Wen Yan by his side, no matter how many storms the future held, he could face them bravely. Because their love was like a mellow wine that only improved with time; it was like a sturdy tree, deeply rooted and never to wither.
While the sweet aroma of cherry jam still filled the kitchen, the snow began to fall again outside. Wen Yan leaned against the windowsill, watching the snowflakes land on the cherry tree branches as if wrapping the bare limbs in a white fleece blanket. “Pei Zhouye, do you think our cherry tree will freeze?” He turned to ask Pei Zhouye, who was tidying the dishes, his tone carrying a hint of worry. They had planted this cherry sapling together in the spring, and watching it grow from a weak little seedling to half a person’s height, Wen Yan had long since considered it a member of the family.
Pei Zhouye dried the last plate, walked over, and hugged him from behind, his chin resting on the crown of Wen Yan’s head. “Don’t worry. I wrapped the trunk in insulation cotton last week and gave it a thorough watering with anti-freeze; it won’t freeze.” He had long since anticipated the winter cold and had specifically researched cherry tree maintenance, even selecting the most suitable thickness for the insulation cotton.
Wen Yan looked up at him, his eyes bright. “When did you do that? How come I didn’t know?”
“While you were at the lab helping Li Wei organize data last week.” Pei Zhouye pinched his cheek. “I was going to give you a surprise, but I didn’t expect you to worry about it first.” He pulled a small notebook from his pocket, flipped it open, and handed it to Wen Yan. It was filled with maintenance notes for the cherry tree—when to water, when to fertilize, the dosage for each time—everything was recorded clearly, even small things like loosening the soil after rain weren’t left out.
Translator’s Note:
A few cultural tidbits from the chapter:
- Copper Pot Mutton (銅鍋涮肉): This is a traditional Northern Chinese style of hot pot, often using a charcoal-heated copper pot and clear broth. It’s the ultimate comfort food in the winter!
- Sugar Painting (糖畫): A traditional folk art where melted sugar is used to create intricate designs, often zodiac animals. The “rabbit” Pei Zhouye bought is a classic.
- Lamb Shangnao (羊上腦): This refers to a specific, tender cut of lamb from the back of the neck/shoulder area, highly prized for hot pot.
- Full-month Party (滿月): In Chinese culture, the one-month anniversary of a baby’s birth is a major milestone celebrated with family and friends.
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