Although Qin Zigui had always been the top student in the residential compound the most sensible, well-behaved, and least troublesome child—Sheng Yan had always been the one everyone adored and spoiled.
The reason was simple. First, he had been adorable since he was little: rosy lips, pearly white teeth, delicate features, and crescent-shaped eyes whenever he smiled. No one could resist him. Second, he was clever, lovable, and especially good at sweet-talking and acting cute. He could charm all the grandpas, grandmas, aunties, uncles, older brothers, and older sisters in the compound into doting on him.
Even Qin Zigui, the cool little boy whom Qin Ru had just brought back to Nanwu, wasn’t spared. On the very first day he arrived at that little courtyard blooming with climbing roses, he was completely captivated by the beautiful little boy in overalls who held out a tiny flower and said in a soft, sugary voice that it was for him.
As a result, for many years afterward, whenever Sheng Yan wanted to sneak some milk candies, keep a pet, fake being sick to skip getting out of bed, avoid doing homework, or calm Qin Zigui down after making him angry, all he had to do was blink pitifully and say, “Zigui-gege… please?” Qin Zigui would immediately give in.
So even though he used those cutesy words less and less as they grew older, somewhere deep down Sheng Yan still instinctively believed that as long as he asked, Qin Zigui would help him.
That didn’t mean saying those words out loud wasn’t embarrassingly mortifying.
Sheng Yan had originally figured that since they were talking over the phone and Qin Zigui couldn’t see him, he’d just pretend he was saying it to a dog. Once he’d successfully tricked Qin Zigui into coming over, he’d deny everything.
What he hadn’t expected was for Qin Zigui to arrive so quickly.
Not only had he come, but he deliberately repeated the words “Zigui-gege” right in front of him, slowly, one syllable at a time. Each word landed squarely in Sheng Yan’s ears, and by the end, the tips of his ears were so red they practically looked ready to bleed.
Unfortunately, they were in public, so punching him wasn’t exactly an option.
Pulling the brim of his cap lower, Sheng Yan gritted his teeth and muttered as Qin Zigui approached, “Qin Zigui, are you doing this on purpose?”
Qin Zigui calmly paid the bill.
“If ‘Zigui isn’t a good bird’ wasn’t intentional,” he replied evenly, “then neither was I.”
Sheng Yan: “…”
Petty!
Was it really necessary to hold a grudge over something that tiny?
Still, when that incident came up, Sheng Yan couldn’t help feeling a little guilty. He wasn’t exactly in a position to argue confidently.
He tugged awkwardly at the brim of his cap and muttered, “You’re a grown man. Why are you so petty? I even bought you milk tea. Can’t we just let this go?”
At that moment, Qin Zigui accepted the drink from the cashier.
The milk tea had become so thick with toppings it was practically a solid. He gave the cup a shake, but nothing inside moved.
“I thought,” Qin Zigui said, “you were treating me to porridge.”
“…”
Sheng Yan answered without the slightest shame, “That’s called being generous.”
Qin Zigui didn’t deny it.
“Mhm. Very generous.”
“Just using my money.”
Sheng Yan: “…”
This guy was seriously annoying.
Sheng Yan had always been the type who could argue circles around anyone outside, but at home he’d simply resort to being unreasonable. Too lazy to keep bickering, he stuck out his hand.
“Who asked you to pay for me? Give me my phone. I’ll transfer the money back, and then we’ll have nothing to do with each other.”
Just one minute ago, he’d been obediently pleading, “Zigui-gege, please.”
Now he was snapping that they should have “nothing to do with each other.”
Young Master Sheng really could bend when necessary.
Perhaps because it had been so long since he’d heard Sheng Yan call him “Zigui-gege” twice in a row, Qin Zigui was in an unusually good mood. He didn’t argue. Instead, he took out Sheng Yan’s phone and placed it into his waiting palm.
Sheng Yan snatched it back, turned around, and walked off. As he did, he opened WeChat, tapped on [Qin Stinky Egg], changed the contact name to [Petty Qin Cuckoo], and transferred 200 yuan.
“Keep the change as payment for your hard work,” he said. “That way you can’t say I owe you anything again.”
Young Master Sheng had always been generous with money.
After all, if money could solve a problem, then it wasn’t really a problem.
Thinking that, he opened the contact card Gou You had sent him for someone whose nickname was “The Most Handsome Guy Under Heaven.”
He didn’t use QQ very often, so his own avatar and username were still the ones he’d used back in middle school. Even so, they looked far more stylish than this guy’s old-school “non-mainstream” emo profile picture. And with such an outrageously flashy username…
Could this person really be reliable?
Half doubtful, Sheng Yan clicked Add Friend.
The other party accepted almost instantly and immediately sent a long message:
[Purchase the complete set of first-year high school study materials and receive a free copy of second-year first-semester foundation notes (my personal self-study materials, limited supply). Price: 399 yuan. QR code below. Please leave your email address when paying. Both PDF and Word versions will be sent. Beautifully formatted with the most aesthetically pleasing layout possible, making it especially convenient for printing. If needed, I’ll even throw in an autographed photo of No. 3 High School’s breathtakingly handsome campus heartthrob. First come, first served. Don’t miss out!]
Sheng Yan: “…”
What an unexpectedly gifted little businessman.
Still, he’d already decided to treat a dead horse like a live one and give it a shot. He couldn’t be bothered worrying about whether the person on the other end was legitimate.
He scanned the QR code and paid.
But as soon as the payment went through, the other party suddenly sent a single message:
[?]
??
What was that supposed to mean?
Sheng Yan was just about to ask when, before he could type a single word, his forehead suddenly bumped straight into something that was neither particularly hard nor particularly soft.
The impact made him suck in a sharp breath.
Frowning, he looked up, ready to complain—
Then he froze.
His forehead had bumped into what seemed to be Qin Zigui’s hand.
Before Sheng Yan could even react or say anything, Qin Zigui calmly withdrew the right hand he’d braced against the glass door. It was already red from the impact, but he acted as though nothing had happened.
“Watch where you’re going,” he said quietly. “Don’t walk while looking at your phone.”
“…Okay.”
Sheng Yan was actually a little worried about the injury on Qin Zigui’s hand, but he felt too awkward to ask. So he obediently put his phone away for the time being.
Just then, Qin Zigui’s phone rang.
He took it out and glanced at the screen.
[Wild]: What happened to Senior Sheng Yan? What kind of shock did he suffer?
[Q]: ?
[Wild]: The words studying actually appeared in his world.
Attached: [Screenshot of the chat about purchasing study materials.jpg]
[Q]: …
The sender was a junior from Qin Zigui’s middle school days, one grade below him and the person he had been closest to back then.
The two of them had dominated first place in their respective grades, and since they were both key players on the school basketball team along with Sheng Yan, they had become good friends. Later, due to special circumstances, the junior hadn’t advanced directly to Shiwai High School, but they’d stayed in touch ever since.
Who would’ve thought that, of all people, Sheng Yan would end up buying study materials from his side account?
Or rather…
The surprising part wasn’t that Sheng Yan had bought materials from him.
It was that Sheng Yan had actually started buying study materials.
Everyone knew Sheng Yan wasn’t a poor student because he lacked intelligence.
He simply never studied.
Back in elementary school, Sheng Yan had been famous for being exceptionally bright. Even though he hated homework, his memory was phenomenal, and he could do mental arithmetic faster than anyone else in the class.
But as he got older, life became more comfortable and there were more interesting things to do.
Target shooting.
Video games.
Building model kits.
Basketball.
He excelled at all of them.
Combined with the fact that everyone spoiled and indulged him, his interest in studying gradually disappeared. Out of 365 days a year, he probably didn’t pay attention in class for 360 of them.
For a pampered young master who had always loved playing to suddenly start studying…
There were only two possible reasons.
First:
His family had fallen on hard times, forcing him to turn over a new leaf.
Second:
He wanted to pass every subject on the next mock exam…
…so he could get away from Qin Zigui.
The answer was obvious.
It seemed Sheng Yan truly didn’t want to stay around him anymore.
Thinking back to elementary school, when every seat change ended with Sheng Yan crying and throwing a tantrum until he was allowed to sit beside him, Qin Zigui lowered his eyes, hiding the emotion in them.
He replied:
[Q]: Maybe he’s just angry with me.
The other party didn’t ask further.
Instead, he leisurely replied:
[Wild]: I see. Well, I’ve also got another account called The World’s Most Pitiful Little Cutie. If you need it, I can lend it to you.
[Q]: ?
[Wild]: Know your enemy, know yourself, and you’ll win every battle.
[Wild]: And remember this: when a man knows how to act cute, brotherhood flies away. Sulking? That’s a tiny problem.
Act cute.
Qin Zigui’s fingertip tapped lightly on those two words.
As if lost in thought.
Before he could come to any conclusion, Sheng Yan who had been walking beside him perfectly normally suddenly smacked him on the arm.
“Qin Zigui! Quick! Help me catch the cat! Don’t let it get away!”
Without waiting for a response, he dashed toward a corner across from the fried chicken shop that was piled high with miscellaneous junk.
Stepping onto the pile, he planted a hand on the wall and vaulted over it in one smooth motion, disappearing from sight.
Qin Zigui remembered that when he’d run into Sheng Yan the previous night, he had indeed seemed to be looking for a cat.
So he followed.
With one clean, effortless vault, he landed lightly on the other side.
Meanwhile, Sheng Yan had finally caught the little runaway.
Holding the tiny cat high above his head with both hands, he glared at it fiercely.
“Run! Go ahead and run again! If you keep running, you won’t get any din-din, got it?!”
“…”
For a moment, Qin Zigui wasn’t sure whether he should remind Sheng Yan that macho men weren’t supposed to use baby talk.
Fortunately, Sheng Yan didn’t seem to realize he’d just spoken in reduplicated baby words.
Instead, he turned to Qin Zigui.
“Can I bring it back to the classroom first? The cat food is still in my backpack.”
Qin Zigui had seen several cans of cat food inside Sheng Yan’s backpack before.
They were clearly the highest-quality, most expensive, most premium kind.
Then he looked at the kitten in Sheng Yan’s hands.
It was just an ordinary little orange tabby with no fancy pedigree.
Cute enough, perhaps.
About three or four months old.
Probably had neither parents nor an owner.
Dirty.
Painfully thin.
It looked like a creature from an entirely different world compared to the clean, handsome young master holding it.
“Are you planning to keep it?” Qin Zigui asked.
Sheng Yan didn’t understand why he was suddenly asking that.
“Not for now. My mom’s allergic to cat fur, so we can’t have one at home.”
“If you don’t intend to keep it,” Qin Zigui said quietly, “it’s better not to feed it premium canned food.”
Sheng Yan raised an eyebrow.
He didn’t understand.
Qin Zigui explained,
“Once many cats get used to expensive canned food, they refuse to eat anything else—not even regular cat food. So if, on a whim, you’re good to it now and give it nothing but the best, it’ll grow attached to you. But what if one day you can’t keep treating it that way anymore?”
“It might stop eating.”
“It could become depressed.”
“It might even feel like it’s been abandoned for a second time.”
“Have you thought about that?”
No.
He hadn’t.
Sheng Yan had only thought that he’d met this little cat, the cat liked him, and he liked the cat.
That was fate.
And in Sheng Yan’s world, whenever he liked something, he instinctively wanted to give it everything he had—the very best he could offer.
Just like when he’d found Qin Zigui outside his house years ago.
He’d liked him at first sight.
So he’d treated him well.
He’d never thought beyond that.
But after hearing Qin Zigui put it that way…
It suddenly sounded as though he’d done something wrong.
And what did Qin Zigui mean by “abandoned for a second time”?
The more Sheng Yan thought about it, the more he felt Qin Zigui was implying something else.
A surge of irritation flared inside him.
“Qin Zigui, what exactly are you trying to say?”
“What do you mean by ‘acting on a whim’ and ‘being abandoned a second time’?”
“Can you stop assuming that everything I do comes from bad intentions?”
“When I found this kitten, it was this tiny. Without me, it wouldn’t have survived.”
“And even though I can’t keep it, I took it to get vaccinated. I took it to the vet. I’ve been looking for someone who can adopt it.”
“So what gives you the right to assume I was just acting on impulse and wouldn’t take responsibility for it?”
“What kind of person do you think I am?”
Sheng Yan grew angrier the more he yelled, and the angrier he got, the more wronged he felt. By the end, he didn’t want to deal with Qin Zigui at all. Hugging the kitten, he stormed toward the alley exit.
After only a few steps, however, he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He turned back and shouted fiercely,
“And I told you I’d take care of it, and I have been taking care of it! It was the one who ran away first! It was the one who stopped paying attention to me! Don’t dump all the blame on me!”
Then he spun around again, lowered his head, hugged the kitten tightly, and hurried toward the mouth of the alley.
He looked genuinely furious.
Yet Qin Zigui wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination, but in that one angry sentence, it seemed there was a great deal more hurt hidden beneath the rage.
It was the one who ran away first. It was the one who stopped paying attention to me.
As those words echoed in his mind, Qin Zigui’s fingers hanging at his side unconsciously curled slightly.
To him, Sheng Yan had always been that sheltered young master who had been protected so well that he understood nothing.
But perhaps…
Sheng Yan had understood far more than he’d ever realized.
So much so that, for the first time, Qin Zigui didn’t know whether he should still do what he always had… chase after Sheng Yan, coax him, and make him smile again.
But instincts forged over more than ten years were always faster than conscious thought.
The moment Qin Zigui saw a bicycle hurtling uncontrollably down the slope outside the alley toward the narrow passage, he didn’t hesitate.
He rushed forward in a few quick strides, grabbed Sheng Yan, pulled him into his arms, turned around, and shielded both him and the kitten tightly against his chest.
The out-of-control bicycle slammed straight into Qin Zigui.
A loud crash echoed through the alley.
Then came a muffled groan beside Sheng Yan’s ear.
Still holding him, Qin Zigui’s legs buckled ever so slightly under the impact.
In that instant, Sheng Yan understood exactly what had happened.
He shoved Qin Zigui’s hands away, dropped into a crouch, and without a second thought rolled up his pant leg.
When the bicycle had fallen, the stiff metal wire tied to the front of the handlebars had sliced straight through the school uniform pants, leaving a deep, long gash across his leg.
Blood poured from the wound.
Just looking at it made one’s heart ache.
Sheng Yan finally couldn’t hold himself together anymore.
He looked up at Qin Zigui and shouted,
“Qin Zigui, are you out of your mind?! Couldn’t you have just yelled for me to move?! Why the hell did you block it?!”
“What do you think you are—a hero?!”
“You think doing this means I won’t be mad anymore?!”
“Dream on!”
“I’ll never forgive you!”
He shouted fiercely.
But as he kept yelling, his eyes gradually turned red.
His anger lost all its bite, making him look less intimidating and more like a little leopard desperately trying to appear fierce.
It was exactly the same expression he’d worn as a child whenever he stood in front of Qin Zigui, refusing to let the neighborhood bully Pang Hu insult him for being an orphan.
It was as if, after all these years…
Nothing about him had changed.
And in that moment, Qin Zigui suddenly understood something.
Perhaps Sheng Yan had never been wrong for always giving stray cats the very best canned food.
The one at fault…
…was the cat who, fearing it would never get to eat food that good again, chose not to eat even the food right in front of it.
At that instant, Qin Zigui made his decision.
Lowering his head to look at Sheng Yan, he said softly,
“Ah Yan…”
“Stop yelling.”
“It hurts.”
Author’s Note:
The azalea (杜鹃花, dùjuān huā) is also called the camellia… or the white lotus.
(Just kidding. “White lotus” (白莲花) is Chinese internet slang for someone who acts innocent and pitiful to gain sympathy.)
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