At Yizhong, the second-year students didn’t have evening study sessions.
At exactly 7:10, the dismissal bell rang.
Ye Qingyang packed up his backpack and looked at Lu Jingcheng, eyes shining with excitement, practically bouncing in his seat.
Lu Jingcheng sat in the same row. Even before he finished packing, he felt a wave of pressure.
He glanced subtly at Ye Qingyang and saw the boy’s eyes sparkling, almost waving at him.
Lu Jingcheng sighed inwardly.
He really didn’t understand how he had somehow… sold himself out. Completely baffling.
Chen Wei had already packed up and, chatting casually with him, waited.
Lu Jingcheng muttered a few perfunctory words, then cleared his throat: “You go ahead first.”
Chen Wei: “Why?”
“I’ve got something to take care of.”
“What?”
“My sister Lu Jingxi asked me to pick her up—she’s still out playing. I’ll leave after staying a bit in the classroom.”
Lu Jingxi was Lu Jingcheng’s younger sister.
Chen Wei didn’t question it, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and left with Bai Le and the others.
With his friends gone, Lu Jingcheng glanced at Ye Qingyang, feeling a little guilty.
Ye Qingyang raised his right hand’s index and middle fingers, mimicking a walking motion, silently asking: “Shall we go?”
Lu Jingcheng shook his index finger.
Ye Qingyang obediently returned to his seat.
Ten minutes passed. Seeing that his friends had likely already left, Lu Jingcheng stood up and started toward the classroom exit.
Ye Qingyang immediately slung on his backpack and followed, walking beside him.
Lu Jingcheng felt awkward. “Can you… keep a bit of distance?”
Ye Qingyang instantly jumped three feet back, leaving several meters between them. “Like this?”
Lu Jingcheng: …
“Are you planning to sing duets with me?” Lu Jingcheng muttered.
Ye Qingyang reluctantly moved a bit closer. “Like this?”
Lu Jingcheng finally nodded reluctantly. “Keep this distance until we exit the school.”
Ye Qingyang made an OK sign. “No problem.”
Lu Jingcheng turned and headed for the stairs.
They exited the campus uneventfully.
Outside, Lu Jingcheng glanced at the parked private cars, saw none familiar, and finally looked at Ye Qingyang, signaling him to come closer.
Ye Qingyang walked over. “Which barber shop?” he asked.
“Wherever there are fewer people,” Lu Jingcheng replied.
No objections. They continued walking.
After a full day of classes, Lu Jingcheng felt a bit hungry. Passing a claypot noodle shop, he asked Ye Qingyang, “Want to eat?”
Ye Qingyang patted his pockets. “No money.”
Then he remembered, “I still owe you ten bucks from lunch.”
Lu Jingcheng couldn’t understand how someone could even lack ten yuan, staring at him for a while.
Seeing Ye Qingyang wasn’t lying, he said, “I told you not to worry about it. Let’s go in. It’s on me.”
They entered the shop.
With few customers inside, Lu Jingcheng asked Ye Qingyang what he wanted and ordered a claypot rice noodles and a claypot ma-shi (spicy wheat cake) at the counter. They sat down.
Ye Qingyang wiped the table with a napkin, also cleaning a bit where Lu Jingcheng sat.
Lu Jingcheng glanced at him, seemingly satisfied with the gesture.
Ye Qingyang took the opportunity to ask, “Lu-ge, how do you want your bangs? Just short like now, or a new style?”
Lu Jingcheng felt exhausted. “I don’t want any bangs!”
“You still need them,” Ye Qingyang urged. “Your bangs are over your eyes. They block your vision, hide your handsome face, and disrespect both your looks and all the people drooling over your beauty.”
Lu Jingcheng: …“people drooling over me?” Girls, sure—but guys too? Does that mean Ye Qingyang is including himself?!
Lu Jingcheng grabbed a napkin and wiped the table aggressively.
Ye Qingyang reminded him: “I already cleaned it for you.”
“I’m a neat freak! Wiping it again is fine!”
“Okay, okay,” Ye Qingyang said nicely. “Cleanliness is a traditional virtue. Lu-ge, wipe more if you like. If that’s not enough, my side of the table can help too.”
Lu Jingcheng: …Better to stay silent.
The waiter brought their claypots.
Lu Jingcheng requested a small bowl, wiped his chopsticks and spoon, and got ready to eat.
Ye Qingyang scooped some soup—the rich, flavorful broth was delicious.
He tried a piece of ma-shi: perfectly soft and chewy, soaked with the soup’s umami. Delicious.
He was about to comment on the claypot when Lu Jingcheng’s actions surprised him.
Lu Jingcheng used his chopsticks to pick out each vegetable from the claypot, placing them in a side bowl: first the greens, then black fungus, then mushrooms, then tofu skin… he even reached for the seaweed.
Ye Qingyang: …
“Lu-ge… are you separating solids from liquids?” he asked.
Lu Jingcheng glanced up. “I don’t eat those.”
Ye Qingyang looked at the nearly empty claypot, puzzled. “Then why eat this?”
“I felt like eating it, okay?”
“But there are barely any vegetables left in the claypot.”
“I like it, okay?”
“Then why not just eat the noodles? You don’t eat the sides anyway.”
Lu Jingcheng snorted. “Noodles are noodles, claypot is claypot. Different broths. Can’t mix them.”
He even fished out all the seaweed.
Ye Qingyang looked at the sparse contents—two quail eggs, two slices of ham, a few peanuts, and some tofu skin.
“Is this what you’ll eat?” he asked.
Lu Jingcheng nodded.
Ye Qingyang sighed, thinking Lu Jingcheng was fussier than little Ye Qingyuan.
“Then let’s swap,” he said. “I’ll take the quail eggs, ham, and tofu skin; you take the stuff you didn’t eat.”
Lu Jingcheng eyed him suspiciously.
Ye Qingyang feigned innocence: “I only had a bite of the top ma-shi. I didn’t touch any of the vegetables.”
Still skeptical, Lu Jingcheng didn’t insist.
Ye Qingyang ate what Lu Jingcheng didn’t want.
Lu Jingcheng watched him eat and thought: He’s willing to eat my food even though I don’t eat his. He really likes me.
He shook his head, silently lamenting Ye Qingyang’s straightforwardness. Such a person would surely end up heartbroken, maybe crying again. Too tragic.
After finishing, they continued toward the barber shop.
The street mainly sold stationery, study guides, and food.
They turned onto another street and saw a few barber shops.
Lu Jingcheng picked the emptiest one.
The shop owner greeted them. Lu Jingcheng said firmly, “Wash my hair.”
The apprentice led him to the back.
When Lu Jingcheng returned after washing, Ye Qingyang was fiddling with the barber’s scissors at a station.
He sat down, and the apprentice grabbed the hair dryer.
“Want a haircut?” the apprentice asked. “Your bangs are a bit long. Cutting will make you even more handsome.”
Lu Jingcheng: “Okay.”
“Pick a stylist then. First time here, right? If you were that handsome, I’d remember. You can get a card—this stylist will handle you from now on.”
Lu Jingcheng calmly said, “No need. I brought my own.”
Apprentice: “Your own?”
Ye Qingyang poked him, smiling. “Me.”
Apprentice: …
Ye Qingyang took the hair dryer and said, “You go ahead, I’ll cut his hair.”
Apprentice: ??? What kind of move is this?
Who brings their own Tony to a barber shop?!