Chapter 45 — You Really Like Vinegar
After saying that, Yu Fan turned to leave. He shifted, remembered, took off the cap and shoved it back. His voice was ice-cold. “Take it.”
Chen Jingshen glanced at the cowlick sticking up on Yu Fan’s head and silently accepted the cap.
The moment Yu Fan’s hand was empty, his face got even colder. He spun to go. He had just taken a step when someone tugged lightly at his T-shirt again.
Must be the bad mood from waking up. He felt like a live wire. He snapped back, “Are you f***ing addicted to grabbing me or what…”
The unruly hair was smoothed down. The cap settled back on his head.
Once it was set, Chen Jingshen moved ahead of him. “Come on.”
Yu Fan’s head followed on reflex. “Where?”
“With you to the net cafe,” Chen said.
Yu Fan did not move and frowned. “Weren’t you going to eat with your old deskmate?”
“No,” Chen said. “Where did you even get that from?”
“Yesterday… forget it.” Yu Fan clamped his mouth shut, paused two seconds. “Since when did I say I’d take you to the net cafe?”
“You didn’t.” Chen lowered his eyes. “But I want to go with you.”
“…”
“No. You will just sit next to me and stare again, it's embarrassing.”
It took him a long moment to squeeze that out. Then he ducked his head and stopped looking at Chen, brushing past his shoulder and heading in the direction the map app showed.
The refusal was crisp, the tone disgusted.
He still wore Chen Jingshen’s cap.
And he walked slow, feet dragging.
Chen stared at his back for two seconds, could not help lowering his head. The corner of his mouth moved. He followed without a word.
They walked single file for a bit, then fell into step.
Sunlight broke through the leaves in little bits and dusted over them.
Chen lifted a hand and offered a drink. “Saw you, so I bought an extra.”
“… Chen Jingshen, do you ever stop.”
Face like stone, Yu Fan went a few more paces before pulling a hand from his pocket to take the watermelon juice and poke the straw in.
It was icy, and it hit the spot.
They were ambling when a mother and daughter passed.
“How did you do?” the mom asked.
Mouth full, the girl mumbled, “Bombed.”
“Knew it,” the mom said coolly. “I got up at dawn to bring you to the test… Can you eat slower, try to show a little restraint.”
“No. I tested for almost three hours. My brain is wrung dry. My stomach too. And I skipped breakfast so I wouldn’t get sleepy.”
“Plenty of people skip breakfast for exams. I don’t see them wolfing food like you.”
Yu Fan listened lazily and sucked a long pull of watermelon juice, then glanced sideways.
Does Chen Jingshen eat breakfast before exams?
Probably not. Otherwise why would he spot Yu Fan and immediately ask to eat.
He looked away. Whatever, let him starve. Maybe he’ll shrink a few centimeters.
At the cafe door, Chen reached to push it open, but his sleeve was tugged.
“Hungry,” Yu Fan muttered. “Let’s eat first.”
Chen looked at him. “Okay.”
They did not fuss. There was a Sichuan place right next door.
Simple decor, but clean. It was noon and there were only a few scattered tables, everyone sitting far apart on an unspoken truce.
Yu Fan chose a window seat.
Only then did he feel his phone buzzing in his pocket. Wang Lu’an was calling.
Yu Fan picked up. “What.”
“… What do you think?” The question came back so fast it knocked him blank. “The four of us have been stuck on the League login screen small-talking for half an hour. Zhu Xu says he has never waited this long even when he is meeting his girlfriend. Two more minutes and I was calling the cops.”
“… ”
Yu Fan pulled the phone away and saw the message he had typed still sitting in the box.
He had forgotten to send it after Chen pulled him back.
“So where are you,” Wang Lu’an said, “what takes this long? Isn’t there a net cafe under your building?”
“I’ll book you a duo partner,” Yu Fan said.
“?” Wang Lu’an blinked. “What does that mean?”
“The cafe downstairs is full. I’m in Yuhe now…”
“F***, that is like half an hour from your place. Why run that far? Are the computers plated in gold?”
Across the table, Chen was wiping his hands with a hot towel. He looked up.
Yu Fan shut his eyes and clamped a hand over his cheap phone’s mic. “Could you keep your damn voice down.”
“Fine, fine. Hurry up. Zuo says there are tons of cafes in Yuhe.”
“I’m at a restaurant eating lunch.”
“…”
He hung up, downloaded a companion app, and ordered them a pretty pricey duo partner.
“Picked a few dishes. See if we should add anything.” Ordering was by QR code. Chen handed over his phone.
Yu Fan was about to say whatever when his eyes dropped to the total in the lower left corner: 373 yuan.
His eyebrow twitched. He took the phone, wondering how this man had managed to rack up nearly four hundred at a place where dishes were like fifteen, twenty a pop.
The phone buzzed in his hand the second he took it.
He tapped the menu. Buzz.
He scrolled. Buzz.
Since Chen had scanned with WeChat, there were no banners.
It buzzed five times in a row. Yu Fan’s temper flared again. He stabbed the screen so hard it thumped. “Your old deskmate is looking for you.”
“My old deskmate…” Chen paused. “What for?”
Yu Fan’s words came fast and cold. “How would I know, am I the one talking to him? You—”
Buzz. He glanced down on instinct.
This time there were banners, two SMS previews.
[Unknown number: Chen Jingshen, I’m Miao Chen. Didn’t have time to check answers just now. Want to ask about the second to last multiple choice…]
[Unknown number: Also, um, the WeChat friend request I sent you yesterday is still pending. Did I add the wrong person?]
Yu Fan’s brow stayed knitted for a few seconds even after the previews faded. “… Wants to check answers,” he said.
“I don’t remember,” Chen said.
“… Oh.”
Yu Fan opened the texts and found several from yesterday, long and short. He did not read them. He typed back a quick “don’t remember,” closed it, and returned to the menu.
A few seconds later, it hit him. Why am I replying to Chen’s texts?
Also…
“You didn’t add him on WeChat?” Yu Fan asked, puzzled.
“Mhm.”
“Then who were you chatting with last night?”
“My mom.”
“… ”
Yu Fan blinked, let out a breath he did not know he was holding, and felt a little better.
Then he yanked that breath back up. What the hell am I relaxing for?
“Speaking of,” Chen looked up and asked mildly, “were you mad last night—”
“No.” Yu Fan jumped like he had been poked. “There was nothing. Why would I be mad?”
Chen raised a brow. “Don’t know. Just now, too—”
“No.” Yu Fan cut him off, tossed the phone back, and forced the topic to die. “I’m done.”
Chen picked up the phone and stared at the screen for several seconds. He looked up. “You…”
“I said I’m not mad. Chat with whoever you want, I am not mad. How many times are you going to ask?”
“…”
“I was going to say,” Chen flipped the phone to show a blank order page, “you deleted every dish I picked.”
“…”
Yu Fan snatched it back, face like a mask, and reordered.
The place was quiet, so the food came fast. The server could not help glancing at the guy on the left.
Yu Fan had put the cap back on, the one he had taken off the moment he came in.
He yanked the brim so low it hid half his face. The tips of his ears, peeking through his hair, were as red as the chiles in their dishes.
He kept stabbing at his phone, face heating in waves, cursing himself an idiot ten thousand times over.
Yu Fan liked starch, it filled him up. One bowl at home could carry him through a day.
A steaming bowl of noodles arrived. He grabbed the vinegar and tipped in half the bottle.
Chen glanced over. “You really like vinegar?”
“Mm,” Yu Fan answered without thinking.
A few seconds later, something felt wrong. He looked up and saw Chen had turned his face away, clearly struggling not to laugh.
“Chen Jingshen, you f***ing—” His hand jerked mid-sentence and a sheet of black vinegar splashed into the broth.
Face blazing, Yu Fan stared at the table, torn between flinging the vinegar at Chen’s face or dumping the noodles over Chen’s head.
0 Comments