Xu Yuan rolled her eyes.
Pray to God, Might as Well Pray to Xu Yuan: [I’m still growing. What’s wrong with eating a bit more? Have you eaten?]
Yan: [No.]
Pray to God, Might as Well Pray to Xu Yuan: [Why not?]
He didn’t answer her question, suddenly asking: [What’s your major?]
Xu Yuan bit her lip and replied: [Guess.]
Yan: [Not guessing.]
Pray to God, Might as Well Pray to Xu Yuan: [If you guess right, I’ll tell you.]
Yan: [If I guess right, why would I need you to tell me?]
That… actually made sense.
Pray to God, Might as Well Pray to Xu Yuan: [Fine, don’t guess then.]
Yan: [Chinese Literature?]
Xu Yuan stopped mid-step, standing in the middle of the alley, phone raised, mouth slightly open.
How did he know?
She quickly scrolled back through their chat history, confirming she hadn’t revealed anything about her major.
Did he really guess, or did he find out from somewhere else?
Pray to God, Might as Well Pray to Xu Yuan: [Wrong guess.]
Yan Ting didn’t reply.
She decided to end this topic here.
Arriving at the noodle shop entrance, she looked up at the sign reading “Xu Family Noodle House,” put her phone away, and pushed open the door.
“Dad, I’m here to help.”
Xu Guojian was slicing beef in the kitchen, each piece evenly thick, neatly arranged on the cutting board.
He looked up at his daughter. “Why so eager today?”
“When am I ever not eager?”
Xu Guojian chuckled. “It’s not busy right now. You don’t need to help. If you have free time, go hang out with your friends.”
Xu Yuan tied on an apron. “I’ve got nothing to do today. Might as well stay busy.”
With that, she picked up a rag and started wiping down tables.
The noodle shop wasn’t big—seven or eight tables—and she wiped them thoroughly, not missing a single corner.
After that, she went to the back kitchen to help peel garlic. The cloves were small and hard on the fingernails. She peeled a small bowlful, garlic smell seeping into every crevice of her nails.
By noon, customers started pouring in.
Xu Yuan was in charge of serving noodles and manning the register, darting between tables, barely touching the ground.
As she worked, she wondered: what was Yan Ting eating for lunch? How should she ask him later?
The moment the thought crossed her mind, she startled herself.
Why was he all she could think about now?
Well, Yan Ting was her “mission target.”
Caring about the target’s daily life was just part of completing the mission better, right?
At two in the afternoon, the noodle shop emptied out.
Xu Yuan sat behind the register, rubbing her sore legs, and pulled out her phone.
No message from Yan Ting.
The afternoon was relatively slow. When no customers were around, her dad cooked three bowls of beef noodles, and the three of them sat behind the tables eating slowly.
In the evening, the setting sun slanted through the glass door, painting the register counter orange.
Xu Yuan sat behind the register, a half-read novel spread open in front of her.
She was just getting to the part where the male lead came out wrapped in a towel—abs, V-line, narrow waist, long legs. The best part for a girl with a healthy appetite.
Suddenly, Yan Ting’s figure flashed through her mind.
Did he have abs?
At the thought, she picked up her phone and sent him a message: [I helped out at the noodle shop today. Carried bowls all day. My arms are so sore.]
The aloof man still didn’t reply.
She wasn’t surprised. If Yan Ting replied to every message, she’d suspect someone had possessed his body.
Xu Yuan went home from the noodle shop first, arriving around eight.
She pulled half a watermelon out of the fridge, grabbed a spoon, and was just about to settle cross-legged on the couch for her first bite when her phone rang.
It was an unfamiliar number, but the area code was local.
She hesitated for a moment, then answered.
“Hey, is this Xu Yuan? I’m Zhou Yang, your brother’s friend. Your brother got into some trouble. Can you come over?” The voice on the other end sounded urgent.
“What happened to my brother?”
“Got into a bit of a conflict. The other side has numbers on us. It’s not great. Can you bring some stuff over? I’ll send you the address. Don’t call the police—it’s not a big deal. Just bring the stuff over.”
Xu Shen was usually such a pushover. What kind of conflict could he possibly get into?
But the tone didn’t sound like a joke, so she didn’t overthink it. She asked what she needed to bring.
The other side said a carton of cigarettes and two thousand in cash.
She set down the watermelon, grabbed her phone, and headed out the door.
The corner store at the end of the alley was still open. She bought the cigarettes, then withdrew the cash from the bank next door, and hailed a cab to the address Zhou Yang had sent.
The address was on an old street in the old town, lined with shops that had been there for years—hardware stores, grocery shops, and a barely-alive billiards hall.
Xu Yuan got out of the cab, clutching the plastic bag, and walked forward.
The billiards hall’s door was half open, noise spilling out from inside.
She pushed the door open carefully and immediately spotted her brother against the wall, a cut on his lip, his collar pulled askew.
Zhou Yang stood beside him, looking like he’d just been in a fight.
Across from them stood five or six people, led by a guy with bleached yellow hair holding a pool cue, cursing up a storm.
Xu Yuan’s appearance drew everyone’s gaze toward her.
“Oh, you actually called someone?” The yellow-haired man looked her up and down and sneered. “What’s a little girl going to do? Entertain us?”
Xu Yuan ignored him and walked straight up to Xu Shen, handing him the plastic bag. “Brother, are you okay?”
Xu Shen shook his head, but his expression wasn’t good.
He took the bag, his lips moving as if about to say something, when his gaze suddenly shifted past her shoulder toward the door.
Xu Yuan turned to follow his line of sight.
The door to the billiard hall was pushed open from outside, and two people walked in one after the other.
The one in front wore a black top and had a cold expression—it was Yan Ting.
Following behind was Tang Shuqing, in a light-colored shirt with sleeves rolled to his elbows, his expression also off.
Xu Yuan hadn’t expected to see Yan Ting here, let alone under these circumstances.
Tang Shuqing spotted Xu Yuan and hurried over. “What are you doing here?”
“My brother called me.”
Tang Shuqing looked at Xu Shen. “Why did you call her here?”
Xu Shen was about to speak when Zhou Yang cut in first. “I made the call. They said if we paid up, they’d let us go—cash only.”
Yan Ting swept a cold glance over the room, not looking at her.
From the moment he entered, his gaze had lingered on Xu Yuan only briefly before shifting to the group across from them.
He walked to the other side without saying a word, but his positioning already naturally shielded Xu Yuan behind him.
The yellow-haired man seemed to recognize Yan Ting and laughed. “Two more? Fine.”
Zhou Yang handed the envelope to the yellow-haired man and said something.
The yellow-haired man tore it open, glanced inside, and his expression changed—he felt insulted.
He threw the envelope to the ground, bills scattering everywhere.
“You think this is charity?”
He slammed his pool cue against the table, and the moment the sound exploded, Xu Yuan saw Tang Shuqing step forward, placing himself in front of her.
Xu Shen also pulled her back.
Yan Ting stood at the very front, expressionless, staring at the yellow-haired man.
“Take the money and get lost,” Yan Ting said.
The yellow-haired man didn’t back down.
What happened next unfolded too fast—Xu Yuan’s mind couldn’t keep up.
She couldn’t figure out how, twenty minutes ago, she’d been at home about to eat a chilled watermelon and binge a show, and now she was here.
Someone threw the first punch, and the billiard hall suddenly erupted into chaos.
The whoosh of pool cues swinging, the harsh screech of tables and chairs overturning, shouts and curses all mixed together, making her ears ring.
Xu Yuan was shoved into a corner. She grabbed a pool cue that had fallen from someone’s hand and gripped it with both fists.
She saw Tang Shuqing tangled up with a man, a cut already bleeding at the corner of his mouth.
She saw Xu Shen surrounded by two people, taking a punch to the face.
Yan Ting, meanwhile, was quick—one punch per person, clean and efficient—but he got hit too.
Someone kicked him from the side. His body swayed, but he didn’t fall; instead, he threw a punch back that drove the man off.
Xu Yuan didn’t dare move recklessly. At a time like this, protecting herself was the priority.
But even if she didn’t move, others moved on her.
Someone swung a stick at her—too fast, and she had nowhere to dodge. Just as the stick came down, Yan Ting grabbed her wrist in a flash, turned, and raised his arm to block.
The stick landed squarely on his arm.
The sound of bone meeting wood—Yan Ting clenched his jaw.
Then, with his other hand, he snatched the stick away and swung it back, forcing the attacker to retreat.
Xu Yuan stared at Yan Ting’s arm, unable to believe it.
If he hadn’t blocked, given the direction that stick was coming down, she would have been hurt.
Someone must have called the police. When the sirens grew near, people fled in the chaos.
The yellow-haired man and a few of his men got away. Xu Shen slumped in a chair, blood still trickling from his nose.
Tang Shuqing leaned against the wall, one hand clutching his shoulder, his shirt stained with dust and blood.
Yan Ting stood in front of Xu Yuan, his right hand hanging at his side, trembling slightly.
Xu Yuan wanted to ask if he was alright, but she couldn’t get the words out—she just stared at his lowered arm.