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Hey friends!

Guess what? After wrestling with my old hosting site (it was not a pretty fight), I’ve finally moved the blog to a shiny new home! The old site is still limping along, but it won’t be for much longer—so this is where the magic will happen from now on.

Now, full disclosure: I’m not a tech genius. There were tears. There was confusion. There may have been snacks used as emotional support. But we made it through!

If you spot anything weird or glitchy, please holler in the comments. I’m still tidying things up and trying to make this place look cute again.

I know I went quiet for a while—life threw some curveballs and I needed a minute (or several). But I’m back, and ready to start fresh. Thanks a million for sticking around. You’re the best.

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Chapter 56: Tasting The Flavor Of Milk Tea Between Zhi Qi’s Lips And Teeth…

Because of the trending topic on social media, Jiang Qi was once again the center of attention for a few days, so he hadn’t gone out to look for work during this time.

At Zhi Qi’s suggestion, Jiang Qi decided to write a plan—a document outlining what he wanted to do, the goals for each stage, and what he wanted to improve. Having a clear structure in his mind would make job hunting more targeted.

But when Jiang Qi sat at the desk and looked at the still-blank “plan,” every time he picked up the pen, he felt incredibly unfamiliar with it.

He couldn’t even remember the last time he had written anything by hand. In prison, of course, there was no chance to touch something as cultured as “pen and paper.” After being released, it seemed like everyone had moved past the stage of handwriting.

Everyone was glued to their phones, typing messages instead. Paper and pens had gradually become mere decorations.

So he hadn’t picked one up in ages.

Jiang Qi used to have beautiful handwriting—slender yet elegant, with a touch of boldness, almost like “iron strokes and silver hooks.”

But now, after so long, when he picked up the pen, his wrist trembled uncontrollably. The moment the tip touched the paper, it felt clumsy and awkward.

Jiang Qi frowned deeply and threw the pen down in frustration.

He couldn’t write anything. He had no plan. His mind felt even blanker than the sheet of paper in front of him.

After thinking it over, Jiang Qi realized he was utterly useless.

As he had said before, he didn’t know how to do anything. So how could he make a plan? If not fixing cars, what else—become a waiter to earn money? It wasn’t impossible, but after his last work experience, Jiang Qi worried that wherever he went, someone would recognize him, and he’d lose the job again.

Seriously, why was this face such a burden?

In a rare childish moment, Jiang Qi poked his own face with the pen, feeling a surge of irritation and even an impulse to “get plastic surgery.”

If only no one could recognize him. If only he could go out freely without having to fully arm himself with a hat and mask.

He thought those few months in the entertainment industry could be treated as “just a dream,” but cold reality told him otherwise. Jiang Qi’s thoughts drifted aimlessly, and he let out a bitter laugh.

The phone on the desk suddenly rang. Jiang Qi glanced down—it was a local number he didn’t recognize.

He frowned, hesitated, then answered.

“Ah Qi? This is your number, right?” The male voice on the other end made Jiang Qi freeze for a moment. He unconsciously brought the phone closer to his ear.

He asked softly, puzzled:  

“Uncle?”

How did Jiang Shi know his number? Hardly anyone had this number.

“Ah Qi, you really should’ve given me your number earlier. I’ve been worried sick these past few months.” Jiang Shi’s voice was full of sighs as he quickly got to the point:  

“It was only yesterday when you trended online—your cousin saw it. Your aunt and I don’t know how to check those things. He told us you had news, so we went to your old 4S shop and asked the boss for your contact info.”

Indeed, when he filled out the contact information on his employment contract, he used this phone number, which Zhan Yang knew.

So that’s how Jiang Shi managed to get his number. Jiang Qi thought vaguely, then asked awkwardly:
“Uncle, did something happen?”

“Not really. It’s just that when I saw those news reports about you before, and heard you were hospitalized, I was worried sick. But I couldn’t reach you at all—until a couple of days ago when you trended on that… what’s it called, Weibo? Your cousin saw it. Your aunt and I don’t know how to check those things. He told us you had news, so we went to your old 4S shop and asked the boss for your contact info.” Jiang Shi’s voice was openly anxious:
“Ah Qi, why are you working as a mechanic now? Are you short on money?”

In this family, elders never minced words with the younger generation. Even if they weren’t that close, urgency stripped away all formality. Jiang Qi felt a little embarrassed, pressed his lips together, and said stiffly:
“No.”

“Ah Qi, if you’re in trouble… just say so.” Jiang Shi sighed on the other end:
“Being a mechanic is tough work. Exhausting.”

Jiang Qi gave a silent smile:
“Not as exhausting as selling vegetables.”

That made Jiang Shi laugh too.

The memories stirred by those words made the two of them feel much closer than before. Then Jiang Shi revealed the real reason for his call:
“Ah Qi, that 200,000 yuan you gave us last time—we haven’t touched it. If you need money urgently, take it back.”

Jiang Qi’s long fingers unconsciously gripped the armrest of the chair. His voice remained calm:
“I’m not short.”

“Don’t be stubborn,” Jiang Shi said.

“I’m not.” Jiang Qi’s tone didn’t change, but faint veins were already bulging at his temples, as if he was entering another phase of emotional instability.

In this moment of feeling utterly embarrassed and strangely vulnerable, the young man just wanted to end the call quickly:
“Uncle, you go ahead. I’ve got something to do.”

With that, Jiang Qi hung up in a hurry.

He still didn’t really know how to interact with people, how to be close, how to bridge the gap—even though this unexpected call from Jiang Shi truly warmed him.

But no matter what, Jiang Qi couldn’t bring himself to take back the money he had given away.

Still, he knew Jiang Shi meant well—he genuinely wanted to help. This was one of those rare moments when Jiang Qi felt the precious warmth of family.

Jiang Qi frowned and quickly took two pills.

He leaned back in the chair for a long while before his emotions gradually calmed down, no longer as extreme as when he couldn’t write the “plan” earlier.

So Jiang Shi’s call wasn’t completely useless after all.

The young man sat quietly for a bit, then got up, put on his hat and mask, and went out.

Lately, he had developed the habit of timing his outings so he could pick Zhi Qi up after class and walk her home.

—Like an “adult” waiting to pick up his well-behaved little one.

Recently, Jiang Qi’s only real “joy” each day was picking Zhi Qi up, asking her what she wanted to eat, and then cooking for her.

He was someone who, as long as he was willing to learn, could excel at anything. Lately, he had been casually studying cooking, and his skills had improved a lot. Every time Zhi Qi ate his food, her eyes would curve into a smile as she praised him, saying he could become a chef.

She said it casually, but Jiang Qi took it to heart. In his view, becoming a chef wasn’t such a bad idea.

Working in the back kitchen as a cook, without facing customers, and being able to wear a hat and mask—thinking about it, it actually seemed quite suitable.

However, when Jiang Qi deliberately went to a few interviews later, most of the bosses judged by appearance. Seeing his “delicate scholar” look, they assumed he was the type who couldn’t even lift a wok, just an embroidered pillow, and rejected him without a second thought.

When it came to job hunting, Jiang Qi could be described as repeatedly defeated, to the point of numbness from all the rejections.

Fortunately, he wasn’t too fixated on becoming a chef, so he simply set the idea aside for now and focused on cooking at home just for Zhi Qi.

After waiting at the Lan University gate for a while, Jiang Qi saw Zhi Qi coming out from the west entrance.

The girl wore a white camisole cardigan, her chestnut hair tied into a ponytail. Her swan-like neck and collarbones were clearly visible. Below, her knee-length skirt revealed two slender, straight legs stepping casually in flip-flops. Her whole figure was so fair it almost glowed.

Zhi Qi held two books in her arms. When she lowered her head slightly, a few loose strands of hair fell against her cheeks. She tucked them behind her ear as she waited for the light to change, looking obedient and adorable.

The only unpleasant sight was the boy standing next to her.

He was probably a student from the same school, dressed in a punk biker outfit, with a roguish style, sitting on a motorcycle and talking to Zhi Qi nonstop.

From a distance, Jiang Qi couldn’t hear what he was saying, but he could see Zhi Qi’s evasive eyes and impatient expression. The young man narrowed his eyes and walked straight over.

“Zhi Qi, just let me take you for a ride! This is my newly modified bike, the performance is—Whoa!”

Before the boy could finish bragging, the hand he was about to use to touch Zhi Qi’s wrist was suddenly gripped tightly.

Startled, he turned his head and saw a tall, lean man standing beside Zhi Qi. The man’s long fingers clamped down on his wrist, veins bulging, his pale eyes cold and sharp.

And the “ice beauty” Zhi Qi, who had always ignored him and never said a word to him, suddenly “melted” at the sight of this man. She hooked her arm through his and beamed, bouncing slightly as she said:
“You’re here!”

…

That was clearly the attitude one had toward a boyfriend!

The boy was stunned. He stammered:
“Zhi Qi… you really have a boyfriend?”

He had been pursuing Zhi Qi for a while. Every time she said she had a boyfriend, he thought it was just an excuse to brush him off—after all, no one had ever seen this so-called boyfriend!

“I’ve been telling you for a month that I have a boyfriend, but you didn’t believe me.”

Finally, you get to see him in person, Zhi Qi thought, smiling sweetly as she leaned on Jiang Qi’s arm and tilted her head toward the boy:
“Now you can stay away from me, right?”

For someone so full of himself, this was probably the most humiliating moment of his college life.

He hurriedly turned and rode off, his retreat almost like a disgraceful escape.

Zhi Qi couldn’t help but laugh a few times, then wrinkled her nose and complained playfully to Jiang Qi:
“That guy kept pestering me. I told him I had a boyfriend, but he didn’t believe me. Now he does, hehe.”

The girl was so innocent and carefree that she didn’t notice the shadow in Jiang Qi’s pale eyes under the brim of his cap. He only gave a low “Mm.”

On the way back, Zhi Qi wanted milk tea, so Jiang Qi queued up to buy her a cup without ice. As they walked, she sipped it happily. Halfway home, she realized something—while she was drinking, no one was talking.

Today, Jiang Qi was unusually silent, almost without saying a single word.

Hmm? Something’s off.

Zhi Qi tugged on Jiang Qi’s sleeve, her teeth nibbling on a tapioca pearl as she mumbled, “What’s wrong with you?”

The boy remained silent, his expression hidden behind his mask, as if he was sulking like a child throwing a tantrum.

“Acting so childish…” Zhi Qi bit down on her straw, her eyes crinkling with playful teasing. “Are you really sulking?”

Why would Jiang Qi be upset? She didn’t even need to ask—it was definitely because of that insignificant guy from earlier.

But for some reason, her remark about him being a “child” seemed to strike a nerve. Without a word, Jiang Qi gripped her slender wrist and abruptly turned off their usual path, pulling her into a deserted alley.

“Huh?” Caught off guard, Zhi Qi found herself pressed against the wall, blinking up at him in innocent confusion. “What are you doing?”

Jiang Qi’s long, elegant fingers pressed against her back, careful not to dirty her fair skin, while his other hand pulled down his mask.

In the dim light, his sharp features were fully revealed, his brows slightly furrowed, giving him an intense, almost dangerously alluring aura.

Zhi Qi, still chewing on a tapioca pearl, swallowed hard.

Oh no. She was getting dizzy from his beauty—completely mesmerized.

“Who are you calling a child?” Jiang Qi’s cool voice dropped low, sending shivers down her spine.

“…Me,” Zhi Qi replied sweetly, her small fingers tugging at the hem of his loose T-shirt as she whispered coquettishly, “Don’t be jealous. I didn’t even pay him any attention.”

So she knew he was jealous and had been teasing him on purpose.

But he was still jealous—not something that could be soothed with just a few words.

Jiang Qi lifted her chin with his slender fingers, his thumb gently brushing her rosy lips. “Actually, I don’t like wearing masks.”

Though he usually didn’t care much about his looks, right now, he couldn’t help but indulge in a childish thought—if he hadn’t been wearing a mask earlier, he probably would’ve crushed that guy instantly.

Even guys had their competitive streaks.

Zhi Qi caught his implication and couldn’t help but giggle.

“Alright, alright, you’re the most handsome,” she coaxed him like a child. “Xu Feng isn’t even worth a single finger—no, a single hair—compared to you, okay?”

Xu Feng was, of course, the guy who had been pursuing her.

“Be good.” Zhi Qi bit her straw, looking up at him innocently. “Want some of my milk tea?”

…She was getting better at tempting him.

A sudden surge of frustration rose in Jiang Qi’s chest, and he snatched the milk tea from her hands.

But instead of drinking it, he leaned down and captured her soft, moist lips, his tongue slipping in to taste the sweetness of the tea.

It wasn’t her usual red bean flavor—this time, she’d bought strawberry milk tea.

Just as sweet as the girl herself.

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