The two-month course covered not only coffee skills but also management knowledge.
Su Pu absorbed it like a sponge in the ocean, gaining something new each day.
During the final week, London was in full summer. The sun hung low in the sky even at nine at night, the evening glow painting dreamlike clouds.
Many classmates were already known in the coffee industry, with their own brands. Su Pu fit right in, holding his own.
Some cheerfully clapped him on the shoulder, inviting him out for a celebratory drink.
He shook his head with a smile, declining.
That morning, knowing he would soon see the person he missed, he felt an urgent longing.
He couldn’t even eat breakfast, but brushed his teeth three times.
Before class, he resolutely rescheduled his return flight.
Perhaps that saying was true: to see someone you miss, you must run.
And this little dandelion was flying to see the one he longed for.
Returning home, stepping into the arrivals hall, Su Pu felt true relief.
People were waiting to greet loved ones. Su Pu navigated through the crowd, spotting a familiar figure in the distance.
Could it be? Was it really Li Jichuan?
He stepped closer, dazed, until he confirmed it.
Li Jichuan stood a full two heads taller than him, on his own two feet.
Su Pu froze, then Li Jichuan gently nudged him. He melted like soft clay, wobbling in delight.
Finally, he started laughing with joy, spinning around Li Jichuan in circles, feeling like he was in a dream that could end at any moment.
Li Jichuan’s legs had recovered remarkably, a miracle in the eyes of many rehabilitation doctors.
Yet the hardship and toil behind this achievement were little known.
He still couldn’t walk independently or stand long; he relied on a cane for safety.
But he was brave enough, wasn’t he?
On the first day of autumn, Su Pu and Pei Zhicheng officially opened their café.
They invited nearly all acquaintances. Guests came bearing love, the small shop overflowing with fresh flowers and towering arrangements.
The two owners smiled brightly—the happiest people in the world.
Their café was called Dandelion, named after Su Pu.
Pei Zhicheng believed that without Su Pu, there wouldn’t be a “future,” so he took no credit.
This was Su Pu’s shop.
The logo depicted a boy with a dandelion-shaped head—large head, small slender body—resembling little Pei Zhicheng in a helmet.
The helmet had once been his shield, cumbersome yet protective.
It was that heavy “head” that allowed the rooted dandelion to soar, to explore the world.
The chains he once believed in had, in some way, been his armor—one day, they too would become wings.
Everyone could break through inner barriers; freedom awaited.
Most of Dandelion’s staff were trained deaf-mute baristas. Aside from the bustling opening day, the shop remained quiet, with only the hum of machines and soft music.
One normal day, Su Pu was selecting beans when a young apprentice excitedly ran over, showing something on a phone in sign language.
Through the news, Su Pu realized his husband was once his employer, now a competitor.
His lover had become a rival.
Su Pu smiled quietly, while the little apprentice bounced with excitement.
“Su Ge, you two are incredible! Planning to monopolize Yun City’s coffee market?”
Other baristas laughed lightly, staying focused on their work.
Shrugging, the apprentice asked, “Your husband’s so amazing—why don’t you work at his brand?”
“Hm…” Su Pu thought for a moment.
“Perhaps he never wanted to trap me…”
Social media’s influence proved immense. Someone posted about Dandelion’s warm atmosphere and friendly staff, noting boosted productivity when studying there.
Soon, Dandelion became a haven for desperate graduates.
A few days later, shy snapshots appeared online: Su Pu making coffee, Pei Zhicheng drawing.
Dandelion gained a reputation as the café with the most handsome owners, drawing crowds eager to see them.
Pei Zhicheng, prone to social anxiety, hid at home, leaving Su Pu alone to bear the comically overwhelming attention.
A few days later, online chatter died down, leaving only a few ordinary check-in posts.
The shop returned to its peaceful routine.
Su Pu quietly enjoyed it, making coffee, occasionally visiting Li Corporation’s office.
“Will you blame me?” Li Jichuan asked, tasting his “special brew.”
Su Pu shook his head. How could he?
“And about the café… I kept it from you. Will you blame me for that?”
Su Pu shook his head again. No, there was nothing to resent. He had long guessed Li Jichuan’s intention.
[So when I first started learning coffee, you were sponsoring me too?]
That question made Li Jichuan pause. He recalled briefly, then nodded.
“At first, I just heard the shop had hired a silent employee who was interested in coffee. I also wanted to cultivate a batch of baristas for the brand, so I arranged for a senior to guide you a bit. It was really to test your ability and capacity.”
Back then, he had no idea that this “little mute” he had never met would become the love of his life.
He had simply had the means and happened to give Su Pu a helping hand.
“So in the end, you created the opportunity for yourself. You found your passion,” Li Jichuan told him.
Su Pu drew two deep breaths.
He wanted so badly to tell the man before him: I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you…
He smiled, pressing the button on the glass wall.
The clear transparency turned into an opaque, unspoken white…
The 2.0 update for Raimondo completed. John asked Li Jichuan for leave to celebrate his grandmother’s birthday.
Before leaving, John suddenly decided to host a barbecue at his place and invited them.
Standing by the road, Li Jichuan sent Su Pu a message, arranging the impromptu invitation.
Su Pu, probably busy, didn’t reply for a long time.
Li Jichuan, waiting, eventually called him. Su Pu answered, phone clamped between shoulder and ear, slipping on his coat.
“Can you come? Hum once if yes, twice if no.”
Su Pu hummed once.
Li Jichuan grinned, thoroughly pleased.
“So sour!”
Just after hanging up, Anderson complained into his ear.
“How long have you two been all lovey-dovey? Don’t you ever get tired of it?”
Li Jichuan rolled his eyes, uninterested in arguing with this asexual cynic.
The joy of love—a lifetime of unlucky people like him could never experience it!
“Doesn’t Su Pu find you clingy?”
Anderson wasn’t done; probably watching the dogged happiness of his friend made him green with envy.
As the saying goes: Silent singles are scary, but a friend flaunting their romance is nauseating.
Anderson was nearly driven mad by the couple’s show.
Growing up together, Li Jichuan understood the psychology. The more he hated it, the more Li Jichuan wanted to flaunt it.
To make him choke!
Anderson sneered, “Stop staring at your phone grinning like an idiot.”
Li Jichuan showed his latest screensaver, briefly explaining: “Su Pu sent me flowers. Who do you think looks better—the flowers or him?”
“Uh, a friendly reminder: ordering flowers to your own place and having someone deliver them to yourself isn’t exactly the same as someone sending them to you…”
Li Jichuan scoffed, “It’s a fun little game—you don’t get it.”
“I don’t. Su Pu was away for two months, and you went to see him six times! If I were him, I’d flee across the English Channel overnight…”
Li Jichuan held up a hand, wiggling his long fingers. “Five boxes!”
“Five… what?” Anderson almost bit his tongue. “No need to ask further…”
Li Jichuan puffed his chest with pride.
“Hey, John.” Anderson rolled his eyes, taking John’s call. He was driving to pick them up.
“Just drive along Yinhe North Road. The handsomest guy on the curb is me, with a cane-wielding fool beside me.”
Li Jichuan stared at Anderson in disbelief.
“This… is my scepter!”
Once in the car, Li Jichuan immediately updated Su Pu.
Su Pu smiled, slinging his bag and waiting outside the shop. Soon, he would see the one he loved.
Suddenly, someone covered his mouth and nose from behind.
A car stopped before him, and he went limp, being shoved into the back seat.
The car sped away.