That afternoon, when she was talking with Jiang Zhengxun about this, Jiang Qihuai hadn’t said a word the whole time—he didn’t even seem to be paying attention. She thought he hadn’t been listening at all.
Tao Zhi glanced around in secret; no one seemed to notice this side.
But among all the dishes on the table, there was one plate set squarely right in front of her, as if it were specially prepared for her alone—it felt a little strange.
She slowly reached out a hand and pushed the plate of cola chicken wings, which was almost touching the rim of her bowl, slightly forward. Feeling awkward, she said, “Don’t make it so obvious, it looks like I’m very greedy.”
Jiang Qihuai raised an eyebrow. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to grab any.”
“That was when I was four or five years old, okay!” Tao Zhi protested in a small voice. “I’m already this grown up—who would still fight over a few chicken wings?”
Jiang Qihuai looked at her. No matter how he looked, even after ten years, she still seemed perfectly capable of doing exactly that.
He nodded. “So, are you eating or not?”
The chicken wings were served in a shallow white porcelain dish, the caramel-colored sauce glossy and tempting, its sweet aroma rich and savory, steaming hot and rising to her nose—mouthwatering.
He had already ordered them; it’d be a waste not to eat.
Tao Zhi slowly picked up her chopsticks, reached over, and picked up the wing at the very edge. She placed it in her bowl, held it steady, then lowered her head and took a small bite.
The sweet and savory sauce mixed with the tender chicken, juices bursting across her tongue.
Tao Zhi’s long, narrow black eyes squinted in delight, her shoulders shaking lightly twice, like a cat satisfied after tasting something delicious.
Jiang Qihuai watched her and let out a quiet laugh.
He had never seen Tao Zhi eat before. This was the first time he knew that when she ate something she liked, she would react this way.
Leaning back in his chair, he looked at her. “You like chicken wings?”
“I like meat,” Tao Zhi said honestly, cheeks puffed as she spat out the bone. “I also like braised pork, candied spare ribs, and tomato meatball soup. But our house auntie has her own ideas about cooking—she insists on balancing meat and vegetables, and she has to rotate dishes.”
Tao Zhi picked up another chicken wing, bit into one end, and mumbled with a face full of grievance, “And my dad insists the family eat vegetarian once a week. Obviously, he’s never home for dinner—so I’m the one who suffers.”
Jiang Qihuai didn’t seem sympathetic toward her pitiful vegetarian days. Mercilessly, he said, “Swallow what’s in your mouth before talking.”
Tao Zhi pouted, then focused on her battle with the chicken wings, even picking one up for Fu Xiling beside her.
Tao Zhi really did love chicken wings.
The entire plate of cola chicken wings—at least eight or nine pieces—was eaten up by her alone. In the end, all that was left was a neat pile of bones on the plate.
Until there was only one piece left.
Tao Zhi was about to pick it up but hesitated. Then she stood, took a new pair of chopsticks from the side, tore open the paper wrapper, and picked up that last chicken wing.
Acting like a thief, she waited until Jiang Qihuai was talking to someone else, then quietly and lightly slipped it into his bowl.
Catching her movement from the corner of his eye, Jiang Qihuai turned his head.
Tao Zhi hadn’t managed to withdraw her chopsticks in time and was caught red-handed. She quickly pulled her hand back, set the chopsticks down, and said nonchalantly, “That was the last one.”
Jiang Qihuai lifted his chin slightly. “If you haven’t had enough, there’s another plate.”
Tao Zhi was speechless. “…Do you think I’m a pig? I already ate a whole plate, and the other plate’s chicken wings aren’t even the same.”
She pointed seriously at the cola chicken wing in his bowl. “This one is mine. I gave you my favorite—it’s a sacred and one-of-a-kind chicken wing, full of significance.”
Jiang Qihuai lowered his gaze, measuring the so-called sacred and meaningful chicken wing. It was probably the smallest one from her entire plate.
Halfway through the meal, the boys had already drunk quite a bit; those with low tolerance were starting to feel tipsy. Usually gentle and soft-spoken, Jiang Zhengxun now had one foot up on the windowsill, yelling at the top of his lungs, “Comrades! I’m so happy today! Our old Li’s birthday is today!”
Zhao Mingqi, sitting beside him, grabbed a beer bottle and drank straight from it. He slammed the table and echoed, “Birthday!”
Jiang Zhengxun spread his arms. “Sixteen years old! You can openly go to an internet café now!”
Zhao Mingqi: “Go to an internet café! Go to an internet café!”
Fu Xiling, holding a cup of coconut milk, corrected them. “You still can’t. You have to be eighteen to go to an internet café.”
Li Shuangjiang stared, dumbfounded. “These two guys are like this after only two bottles of beer? Jiang Zhengxun, are you okay?”
Jiang Zhengxun turned his head. “Call me big brother! I’m older than you!”
Li Shuangjiang: “…”
Fu Xiling picked up some cold dishes with her chopsticks. “After drinking, Jiang Zhengxun actually gets pretty imposing.”
Tao Zhi nodded in agreement. “Finally living up to his name.”
“Ji Fan’s alcohol tolerance seems good,” Fu Xiling said.
Tao Zhi turned her head and glanced at Ji Fan beside her.
The two of them had gone to different schools since junior high; Ji Fan had moved to another city with Ji Jin, only returning after entering high school to attend the affiliated school.
Tao Zhi really didn’t know how well he could drink or what he was like after drinking.
The boy, for once, wasn’t joining the others in their wildness. He sat quietly in his seat, head tilted back against the chair, staring unblinkingly at the ceiling.
The boy next to him patted his shoulder. “Fan-ge, you okay? What are you looking at?”
After a moment, Ji Fan slowly said, “I’m thinking.”
The boy: “Thinking about what?”
Ji Fan said dazedly, “Do angels really exist in the sky?”
The boy: “…”
Ji Fan kept staring at the white ceiling. “If angels really exist, do they have big chests?”
Fu Xiling: “…”
Tao Zhi: “…”
When the meal was over, Zhao Mingqi was already lying face-down on the table, Jiang Zhengxun was cosplaying as a Super Saiyan beside him, and Ji Fan’s condition had worsened—he was now discussing with the boy next to him which angel had the bigger chest.
The girls went to the restroom together. Li Shuangjiang, who still held his liquor fairly well, got up to pay the bill. Acting as if nothing was wrong, he finally pulled out his phone for the first time that night. As soon as he opened Alipay, he noticed a new WeChat transfer notification.
He had added Jiang Qihuai as a friend earlier and exchanged a few words with him. At the very bottom of their brief chat history was the transfer. He stared at it for a moment, then settled the bill. Returning to the private room, he leaned over Jiang Qihuai’s chair and asked, “Huai-ge, why’d you transfer me money?”
Jiang Qihuai pointed at the empty plate of cola chicken wings in front of Tao Zhi. “For the extra plate of wings.”
“Then just order another one if it’s not enough, it’s fine,” Li Shuangjiang said. “It’s the birthday boy’s treat anyway. Why are you being polite over a few wings?”
Jiang Qihuai smiled and lightly patted him on the shoulder. “The birthday boy’s already spent enough. But that plate of chicken wings was mine—take it.”
It was Li Shuangjiang’s first time seeing him smile. He was a little flattered and scratched his head, mumbling an “oh” before obediently accepting it.
Even though Jiang Qihuai had said it with a smile, for some reason Li Shuangjiang had the strong feeling that if he didn’t take the money, something terrible would happen.
The group stumbled out of the restaurant—those still sober supporting the ones who weren’t. Li Shuangjiang had Zhao Mingqi clinging to his left arm and Ji Fan hanging off his right. Tao Zhi had already texted Uncle Gu; the car was waiting at the door.
Li Shuangjiang shoved Ji Fan into the passenger seat, but Ji Fan refused, clutching his arm and not letting go, until Tao Zhi smacked his hand away.
Ji Fan’s head took the hit; still dizzy, he looked at her with mysterious seriousness and whispered, “Zhizhi, do angels look at the chest or the legs?”
Tao Zhi struggled to shove his leg, which was hanging out of the car, back inside. “I read the damn Bible. Stop being insane and sit properly.”
Scolded, Ji Fan sat back in his seat, looking pitiful.
Tao Zhi slammed the passenger door and turned around. Jiang Zhengxun was now cosplaying as Sailor Moon—on the verge of taking off his pants to make a skirt—only to be stopped in horror by the boys beside him.
Meanwhile, Li Shuangjiang was still being clung to by Zhao Mingqi like an octopus. The nearly one-meter-ninety class monitor was now crying into his shoulder, wailing, “Old Li! My life is so hard, Old Li! Why the hell can’t I get my math right?!”
Jiang Qihuai stood to the side, tapping at his phone. The pale light of the screen under the dim glow outlined his facial features in soft yet distinct shadows.
Next to him, Li Shuangjiang mercilessly flung Zhao Mingqi aside. The octopus, losing his anchor, spotted Jiang Qihuai nearby.
Jiang Qihuai lifted his eyes from his phone, only to see a large figure charging straight at him. Instinctively, he stepped aside.
Zhao Mingqi missed entirely, his unsteady legs giving way. He fell face-first to the ground with a loud thud.
“…”
Watching this mess of drunken chaos gave Tao Zhi a headache. She called out to Li Shuangjiang, then took Fu Xiling to the car. After dropping everyone off, she finally went home.
By the time they arrived, Ji Fan was already asleep in the passenger seat. Uncle Gu carried him out while Aunt Zhang opened the door.
The moment she saw Ji Fan, Aunt Zhang exclaimed, “Oh my heavens! What kind of class reunion was this? You kids are all drunk—come in, quickly!”
Uncle Gu carried Ji Fan upstairs. Aunt Zhang went to the kitchen, made two cups of honey water, and handed one to Tao Zhi. “Zhizhi, you alright?”
Tao Zhi honestly wasn’t much better off than Ji Fan. After one bottle of beer, her head was spinning—but since she’d bragged before dinner about being able to drink with a whole table of people, she held herself together until they got home.
Slumped on the sofa, she weakly accepted the cup and took a sip. “I’m fine. Please go check on Ji Fan and make sure he doesn’t throw up.”
Aunt Zhang agreed and hurried upstairs.
The living room fell quiet. Tao Zhi set the cup on the coffee table and lay down sideways on the couch.
The crystal chandelier made her dizzier. She pulled a cushion over her head, rolled onto her side to block the light, pulled out her phone from her coat pocket, and opened WeChat. She sent a money transfer to Li Shuangjiang.
It was about ten minutes later when he replied.
Li Shuangjiang: 【?】
Li Shuangjiang: 【Wait, big bro, what’s going on between you and Huai-ge?】
Tao Zhi was half-asleep already, jolted awake by the notification sound. She groggily fumbled for her phone and glanced at the screen.
Zhizhi Grape: 【?】
Li Shuangjiang: 【This money’s also for the chicken wings?】
Zhizhi Grape: 【Yeah, didn’t we order an extra plate today?】
Li Shuangjiang: 【No need, Huai-ge already gave it to me when he paid the bill. I already accepted it. What are you two doing? You think the birthday boy can’t afford one plate of chicken wings?】
Tao Zhi froze for a moment.
She exited the chat window and tapped into the Beautiful Girls’ Justice League group chat.
There were four members. Jiang Qihuai was the last one, his profile picture a pile of scattered puzzle pieces. Tao Zhi stared at it for a long time without figuring out what it meant.
Maybe top students just liked to use strange things like that as avatars.
She hadn’t added Jiang Qihuai as a friend before, and he had never spoken in the class group or any other group chats. Tao Zhi hesitated for a moment, then still tapped his profile and sent a friend request, adding a note.
After only a few minutes, her phone chimed—he had accepted.
Tao Zhi opened the chat and sent him a transfer.
【Beautiful Girls’ Boss Jiang Qihuai】: ?
【Zhizhi Grape】: Chicken wing money.
【Beautiful Girls’ Boss Jiang Qihuai】: No need.
He didn’t accept it. Tao Zhi didn’t press further. After thinking for a bit, she still asked:
【Zhizhi Grape】: Did you get home yet?
【Beautiful Girls’ Boss Jiang Qihuai】: Not yet, almost.
Tao Zhi sent an [OK] emoji.
Jiang Qihuai didn’t reply again.
Tao Zhi exited the chat window, drank most of her honey water, and rested a bit. Her head cleared up, and since she wasn’t sleepy anymore, she started scrolling through random public WeChat articles.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
When Jiang Qihuai got home, the house was completely quiet.
It was not yet ten at night. The lights in the living room were off, leaving only a dim yellow one by the entryway. Jiang Qihuai closed the security door softly behind him; the click echoed faintly.
The master bedroom door on the left was ajar, a faint glow seeping from inside. Jiang Qihuai walked over lightly, pushed it open a little, and looked inside.
Grandpa Jiang was sitting by the bed, still awake, wearing reading glasses and holding a book. Hearing the sound, he looked up. “A’Huai, you’re back?”
Jiang Qihuai answered, “Mm. Why aren’t you asleep yet?”
“I was waiting for you. Grandpa has to keep a light on—otherwise, how could our A’Huai come home to a dark house?”
Grandpa Jiang put down the book, smiling kindly at him. “Was the gathering fun?”
Jiang Qihuai gave a quiet hum of acknowledgment.
Grandpa Jiang placed the book on the table and looked at him cheerfully. “Did A’Huai make new friends?”
Jiang Qihuai lowered his eyes, his eyelashes casting shadows as he smiled faintly.
“Good, good. Making friends is a good thing. Our A’Huai is so likable, your classmates must enjoy being friends with you. Go wash up and get some sleep,” Grandpa Jiang waved his hand. “Rest early, you’ll need energy for class tomorrow.”
Jiang Qihuai quietly closed the door and turned back toward his room.
He took off his backpack and set it on the desk, slipped off his school jacket, and pulled his phone from his pocket, tossing it onto the bed.
The screen lit up for a moment—WeChat notifications filled it from top to bottom.
He hadn’t checked his phone earlier, and with the sound off, he hadn’t heard a thing.
Draping his uniform jacket over the chair, he walked to the bed, bent down, picked up the phone, and unlocked it. The screen was filled with a flood of messages—all from the same person—pushing him random links from public accounts.
【Zhizhi Grape】: 【Watch out for these signs: if someone around you fits all four, they may have a withdrawn antisocial personality.】
【Zhizhi Grape】: 【The five biggest taboos of student life—the number one will shock you!】
【Zhizhi Grape】: 【Top students’ dating standards—swearing to marry only Tsinghua or Peking University beauties, ending up single for fifty years with no one willing to marry them.】
【Zhizhi Grape】: 【Bizarre! A high school student scoring over 700 points ends up working construction as an adult.】
【Zhizhi Grape】: 【Shocking! A young man from a riverside university rejects a girl’s confession, saying “your grades are too poor.” Three days later, he suddenly dies of illness and is found on the street!】
Jiang Qihuai: “…”
Jiang Qihuai: “?”
—
Author’s Note:
No disrespect meant toward construction work (whisper).
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