Cong Yixing was gone for a long time this trip.
Every so often, he checked in with Jiang Ting on his phone.
“Finished buying the cigarettes.”
“Picked up Zhong Rui.”
“We’ve arrived. The shop owner is here alone; we have to help move the goods out first to take inventory.”
“All calculated. Because of the previous high temperatures, some of the seasonings got a bit stifled, but it doesn’t affect eating them. The owner felt bad, so he priced the seasonings very low and gave us an extra 1% discount on the total.”
“Loaded up, preparing to head back. I’m driving the van, and I’m letting Zhong Rui drive our car home—he has an underground parking space at his place. When I go to return the van tomorrow, Zhong Rui will drive over to pick me up, and we’ll come back together.”
Jiang Ting replied with a “Good” and calculated the time he would need for the return journey.
It was almost 12:00 AM. He would likely be back around 1:00 AM. Wanting to find something to do to distract herself from her anxiety, Jiang Ting decided to make a late-night snack by hand to give Cong Yixing a surprise.
Jiang Ting could cook, she just wasn’t very practiced at it.
She worked slowly, using a knife with extreme caution and turning on the stove with trepidation; essentially, she was afraid of anything that could hurt her.
She took out cold noodles she had bought at the supermarket from the space. Once the water boiled, she cooked them, rinsed them in ice water, and after they were completely cooled, she scooped them into a large glass bowl.
Following the steps in a tutorial video, she added various seasonings and chili oil one by one. Then, she tossed in the peanuts Cong Yixing had fried earlier, along with the shredded cucumber and carrots she had just cut.
After mixing it evenly, Jiang Ting took a small bite and squinted her eyes slightly. “Delicious!”
Glancing at the time, she realized making just one bowl of cold noodles had taken nearly an hour. How did Cong Yixing usually manage to whip up four dishes in an hour?
Ten minutes passed, and after Jiang Ting couldn’t resist sneaking several more bites, Cong Yixing finally sent a message: “Boss, come downstairs to collect the goods.”
Jiang Ting replied, “Hard work, Xiao Cong,” and hurriedly changed her shoes to go downstairs.
The sensor lights in the hallway lit up with her footsteps as Jiang Ting ran down the stairs.
A tall, thin shadow was standing at the unit entrance. Jiang Ting jumped in fright, but fortunately recognized it as her boyfriend a second later.
She leaped down the last three steps and threw herself into his arms with the excitement of a long-lost reunion.
Cong Yixing: “…” Catching her, he said helplessly, “I’m covered in dust.”
Hearing this, Jiang Ting backed away quickly, but it was too late. Her light yellow pajama jacket was already marked with dust.
Cong Yixing first scolded her, “How reckless,” but seeing her pout, he quickly comforted her: “It’s fine. I’ll wash it clean for you tomorrow morning. I won’t let Little Yellow Flower stay dirty for long.”
“Little Yellow Flower” was the name Jiang Ting had given this set of pajamas. Sometimes she was like a child, giving all sorts of names to the things she liked.
Seeing that he remembered the name of her favorite pajamas, the corners of Jiang Ting’s mouth couldn’t help but curl up. She felt that Cong Yixing was really, really, really wonderful!
As usual, Cong Yixing had parked the car in a corner, and they both climbed into the back of the van.
He swept the interior with his phone’s flashlight and whispered to Jiang Ting, “The dashcam is off. I checked before loading; the cargo area is clean.”
By “clean,” he meant two things. Jiang Ting nodded understandingly and signaled for him to turn off the light. In the darkness, she quickly swept the entire van’s worth of goods into her space.
Cong Yixing still dropped her off at the apartment door before going to park the car.
Back inside, Jiang Ting scanned the space internally. When the items had been stacked in the van, she hadn’t realized the scale, but now that they were laid out, she found there was truly so much!
Rice! Black rice, purple rice, brown rice, glutinous rice, millet! Peanuts, soybeans, green beans, red beans! Flour, corn flour, glutinous rice flour, sweet potato flour! Soybean oil, rapeseed oil, peanut oil, corn oil! Plus all kinds of cured meats, dried fruits, dried mushrooms and wood ear, spices and seasonings, oil, salt, soy sauce, vinegar, and sugar!
It was all edible!
So much grain!
She was immersed in excitement until Cong Yixing returned home. She completely forgot to be disgusted by the dust on him and hugged him tight, saying excitedly, “Babe! We’ve struck it rich! It’s all food!”
Cong Yixing didn’t bother debating why “all food” meant they were rich; seeing her happy made him happy. Even after working until the middle of the night, as soon as he saw her smiling face upon coming home, he felt his exhausted body instantly recharge with energy.
Rubbing his chin against her forehead, Cong Yixing asked, “Babe, should I organize things first or shower first?”
Jiang Ting remembered the snack she had made. She let go of his waist, took a step back, and looked at him with a proud expression: “Eat first! I made a meal for you!”
Cong Yixing was quite dirty. He took off his outer clothes and heat-insulating suit, brought over a small stool, and sat down at the living room coffee table to wait, wearing only a pair of floral boxers.
Because the stool was so low, his long, sturdy legs were curled up. His wheat-colored skin was smooth and elastic, and the fluid lines of muscle could be seen beneath his skin as he moved.
His broad shoulders and back connected to a lean waist, and the protruding vertebrae were visible under the tight skin of his back…
Coming out of the kitchen with the cold noodles, Jiang Ting looked him over from head to toe. Finally, her gaze landed on the two shallow dimples on his lower back. She discreetly swallowed her saliva before walking over as if nothing was wrong.
Cong Yixing took the bowl, being very supportive: “Wow, this looks so delicious!”
Jiang Ting wasn’t humble at all: “Of course it’s delicious. Look who made it!”
One shouldn’t eat too much for a late-night snack. They shared the bowl of cold noodles. After finishing, Cong Yixing picked up the bowl to wash it, but was stopped by Jiang Ting: “I’ll wash it. You go shower.”
Since the two of them started living together, when had Jiang Ting ever washed a dish? Cong Yixing didn’t dare let her do it, insisting: “I’ll do it. You go prepare clean pajamas for me.”
“Alright.” Jiang Ting wasn’t the type to fight over chores.
It was too late today, and Jiang Ting had already checked the space. Cong Yixing had been present for the inventory, so he had a general idea as well.
The two of them didn’t rush to organize the supplies. They went to sleep right after showering.
The next day was another busy one. Cong Yixing had to cook various foods to fill those large soup pots.
Their original soup pot already held the brine; now they planned to keep the smallest of the newly bought stainless steel pots for everyday soup-making.
They say the older the brine, the more fragrant the braised meat. As Jiang Ting sat cross-legged on the sofa gnawing on a duck claw, she truly felt that yesterday’s batch was even better than the previous ones.
Because he had refused her request for iced milk tea, Cong Yixing compensatorily made her a cup of passion fruit lemon tea.
With a duck claw in one hand and her phone in the other, both of Jiang Ting’s hands were occupied. She took a sip from the cup held by Cong Yixing, let out a satisfied sigh, and then voiced a slight complaint: “Your braised stuff is fragrant enough, it’s just not very spicy.”
Cong Yixing didn’t dare respond to that. Because the person in front of him was someone who would get “heat” breakouts the moment she ate spicy food yet was addicted to it, he reduced the spiciness as much as possible when cooking to save her from a few pimples. He had to reduce the heat while still making it suit her palate—heaven knows how much effort that took!
It wasn’t that he thought she looked bad with pimples, but rather that some people would blame him the moment a pimple appeared, shifting the responsibility as much as possible. Anyway, any and all pimples were the chef’s fault!
Cong Yixing: I can take a scolding, but I can’t take one every day (humble).
In the evening, Cong Yixing had to return the van.
Just before he left, Jiang Ting suddenly thought of something and asked him, “Wait! You bought so much grain—aren’t your friends curious?”
Cong Yixing stopped his hand on the doorknob and looked back at her helplessly: “Did you only just think of this question…”
Jiang Ting acted very ashamed: “Am I too stupid?”
“Not stupid. It’s your trust in me.” Cong Yixing did his daily coaxing before explaining: “I couldn’t tell the truth about this. When Brother Jun asked, I said I wanted to do personal shopping services for the nearby neighborhoods—buy a batch of goods and sell as much as I can, and whatever doesn’t sell, we’ll keep to eat ourselves.”
Fearing Jiang Ting wouldn’t understand, he told her, “It’s not the regular kind of personal shopping. It’s the kind where you buy grain and vegetables and deliver them to homes. It’s a bit like a delivery runner, but the goods aren’t bought from outside shops; you have your own channels.”
Jiang Ting knew about this! It was a profession newly emerging in those first-tier southern cities.
There were many wealthy people in big cities who liked to enjoy themselves. After the abnormal weather began, many shops closed, and fresh fruits, vegetables, eggs, and meat in supermarkets became hot items that people had to queue up for early in the morning.
Some people didn’t want to compete with others, or rather, they couldn’t get what they wanted, so a new type of personal shopping service gradually evolved.
Generally, those who could do this kind of shopping were people with special channels—either they could get fresh fruits and vegetables, or they had a source for meat. In short, they could help people buy things that couldn’t be found in ordinary markets and supermarkets. Everyone had their own specialty.
Jiang Ting had scrolled past this many times online. Many netizens expressed envy, saying that it was always good to have money; things ordinary people couldn’t buy, these people could, and not only could they buy them, but someone would deliver them right to their door.
She hadn’t expected Cong Yixing to come up with such an excuse. Jiang Ting expressed her admiration: “They say fruits with plenty of sunlight are sweeter. Is a brain with plenty of sunlight also more useful?”
Cong Yixing gave her forehead a gentle flick. “Talking in circles to call me dark again, aren’t you!”
Jiang Ting “hehe-ed” twice and asked him again, “And you told Zhong Rui the same thing?”
“I definitely couldn’t tell him that. He’s even easier to fool. I told him I bought it for the company, and he believed it instantly.”
“Huh? Then didn’t the secret come out when you went to load the goods yesterday?”
“It did slip out at Brother Jun’s place, but I explained to him later that I only told Brother Jun I was buying it for myself to get a better price.”
“And he believed it?”
“He did.”
“Wow, then he really is easy to fool!” As soon as Jiang Ting finished speaking, she reacted, covering her mouth and saying, “Is it bad for us to gossip about Zhong Rui behind his back like this?”
“No. I have a feeling there will be no shortage of times we’ll have to help him out in the future. Essentially, he’s a beneficiary of this batch of grain too. What’s wrong with a beneficiary being gossiped about a bit by the investors?”
Jiang Ting instantly felt righteous and gossiped loudly: “This young man Zhong Rui… he’s a good person, he’s just a bit too clingy to other people’s boyfriends. If he could send you a few fewer messages, in my eyes, he’d be quite a decent young fellow!”
The two of them stood in the entryway whispering back and forth for a long time.
They always had endless things to say, whether it was because Jiang Ting was so good at being a clown or because Cong Yixing was such a good straight man. Even though it was just a life for two, they always managed to keep it lively.
But constrained by the appointed time, Cong Yixing still had to leave quickly.
Jiang Ting double-locked the door and stood there smacking her lips. She felt that chatting without eating anything left her mouth a bit lonely.
So, she returned to the living room sofa, took out a box of duck wishbones and duck tongues, and even snuck a few gulps of iced milk tea while the “parent” was away.
Outside was a 40-degree furnace of a night, her lover was bustling about for their livelihood, while she stayed in a house with tightly closed doors and windows, enjoying a 24-degree cool breeze and snacking.
How should Jiang Ting describe her mood at this moment? It was probably a “satisfaction” laced with a bit of a guilty conscience.