“Stop crying. You prepared so many things for him—he isn’t going to suffer all that much.”
Over on the train, Wen Ya finished tidying up her space and finally opened her eyes, only to find the icy-faced man sitting across from her, staring at her with a curious gaze.
Huh, what’s going on here? Did he drop his butcher’s knife and turn over a new leaf?
The man’s mood inexplicably brightened as he looked into her eyes, because her thoughts were completely written all over them. Still, his face remained carved in stone.
The short-haired girl sitting nearby glanced across at the two men, then shyly lowered her head again.
Unlike the classic tropes in novels, nobody in their compartment started eagerly introducing themselves the moment they boarded. Wen Ya figured there was no point in introducing yourself to strangers just because you happened to share a train ride. The short-haired girl was simply too shy to speak up, while the “refined scoundrel” type desperately wanted to break the ice, but one look at the icy-faced man’s death glare shut him right up.
As for the icy man himself? Hmph.
Every other compartment was filled with chatter, but their seating area was dead silent.
When Wen Ya wasn’t retreating into her spiritual space, she found the trip utterly dull. Since she couldn’t casually pull out a novel to read, she took a copy of the Quotations of Chairman Mao (the Little Red Book) out of her bag. With nothing else to do, she alternated between reading a bit, gazing out the window, reading a bit more, and looking back out the window.
Fortunately, her seat was right by the window. It turned out that boarding early had its perks—you actually got to snag the good seats.
While everyone else was outside weeping and saying tearful goodbyes, she had marched straight onto the train. Weeping? Goodbyes? With her scumbag father and Liu Min? Perish the thought—it would completely ruin her appetite.
By noon, she started pulling food out of her cloth bag. She took out an aluminum lunchbox filled with rice balls. She had sprinkled them with crushed seaweed and egg, making them look exceptionally appetizing. Best of all, they didn’t have a strong odor, meaning they wouldn’t attract any misbehaving brats.
The lunchboxes back then were quite large and made of aluminum, but she had shaped her rice balls to be bite-sized—one pop per bite—and stuffed them with savory fillings. They tasted heavenly.
The icy-faced man sitting opposite her caught a glimpse of the rice balls, and a flash of light crossed his eyes. It had been a long time since he had seen such neatly prepared rice balls, and he could even spot the fillings inside. Watching the girl pop one after another into her mouth, he suddenly found his own appetite stirring.
The man pulled out his own lunchbox, which happened to be filled with beef-filled dumplings. He began popping the dumplings into his mouth one by one.
By this time, the other two passengers had also brought out their rations. The “refined scoundrel” produced a flatbread stuffed with chives and eggs, while the short-haired girl pulled out a white-flour meat bun. It seemed that whenever families had a bit of spare capacity and actually cared about their children going down to the countryside, they would pack decent food for the journey.
Across the aisle, an old woman and a middle-aged woman were traveling with two young children. The two kids stared longingly at everyone eating, drool practically pooling in their mouths. Wen Ya acted as though she hadn’t noticed a thing, and the icy man didn’t even deign to give them a sideways glance.
The little girl looked well-behaved; even though she was drooling, she didn’t dare make a peep. The little boy, however, was a different story—he kept whining and demanding a meat bun from his grandmother.
The old woman would normally have thrown a fit, but after casting a wary glance at the icy-faced man, she quickly turned her head back and began patiently coaxing her grandson. She didn’t dare beg for food. Even though the man wasn’t her grandson, he sat right next to them, and she genuinely feared him. Every time she thought about how her mischievous grandchild had drifted too close to him earlier, and how the man had fixed him with that murderous death stare, a shiver ran down her spine.
“Now, now, Grandma’s precious good boy,” she coaxed. “Once we get off the train, Grandma will buy you some braised pork belly, okay? We don’t want these meat buns—they aren’t tasty.”
“I don’t want that! I want braised pork, and I want a meat bun too!”
“We’re not eating it. Those meat buns are already spoiled; if you eat them, you’ll get bad diarrhea.”
“I don’t believe you! You’re lying to me!”
“Grandma’s not lying to you, really! Those meat buns have gone rotten!”
“Grandma, you’re lying! I didn’t smell anything rotten at all!”
By this point, the short-haired girl couldn’t even swallow her food. Who says things like that?! she thought indignantly. People were literally sitting right here eating, and this old woman was loudly declaring their food was spoiled and rotting. Still, she wasn’t foolish enough to hand her meat bun over to strangers; she preferred to save it for herself.
The other passengers had already finished eating. Seeing that the meat bun wasn’t going to materialize, the little boy threw a tantrum at his grandmother.
“You’re just making things up! Look, she’s eating it all, and she hasn’t gotten diarrhea!”
“She’ll get diarrhea in a minute!”
“Really? Grandma, you’re not lying to me?”
“Of course not! When has Grandma ever lied to you?”
“Fine! Then I’m going to watch right here to see when she gets diarrhea. If she doesn’t get diarrhea, that means you’re lying to me, Grandma!”
With that, the little boy fixed his unblinking stare squarely on the short-haired girl. Even when food was put into his mouth, his eyes didn’t wander.
The short-haired girl’s face burned bright red. What kind of bizarre people are these? she fumed. Who actually sits around waiting for a complete stranger to get diarrhea?!
Meanwhile, Wen Ya was watching the whole spectacle with great amusement. What a wonderfully eccentric pair of grandmother and grandson. If it were socially acceptable, she would have loved to pull out a bag of melon seeds and watch the show.
As she sat there enjoying the drama, she didn’t realize that the icy-faced man opposite her was actually watching her.
Ling Hao found this girl quite interesting. She was watching the unfolding chaos with such spirited enthusiasm that she was practically missing a bag of melon seeds. Her eyes sparkled with excitement; it had been many years since he had last encountered someone so genuinely entertaining.
More importantly, she was the first person he had met in this world who carried subtle fluctuations of energy around her. He had no idea what was causing those energy ripples.
The short-haired girl was currently wishing the floor would open up and swallow her. Why on earth had she chosen to eat a meat bun? She would have been better off eating a plain steamed bun! If she had eaten a plain bun, she wouldn’t have brought on this nightmare. She desperately needed to use the restroom right now, but the little boy was still staring at her like a hawk. It paralyzed her—if she got up to leave, the kid would undoubtedly announce to the entire carriage that she was rushing off because of diarrhea. But if she stayed seated much longer, she was going to burst.
After a few more agonizing moments, she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
The boy’s eyes widened instantly. He grabbed his grandmother’s sleeve and shouted, “Grandma! You were right! Look, she’s moving—she’s definitely going to diarrhea now!”
The old woman looked over at the short-haired girl and patted her grandson’s hand approvingly. “See? What did I tell you? We don’t eat those meat buns. Grandma will buy you braised pork later.”
The short-haired girl’s neck turned as red as a beet.
Suddenly, Wen Ya felt a mild urge to use the restroom herself. She stood up, intending to head out. Noticing the short-haired girl sitting there with a face and neck flushed bright red and her head lowered in misery, Wen Ya paused.
“Excuse me, sister,” Wen Ya said softly, “I need to head out to the restroom. Would you mind letting me pass?”
Hearing this, the short-haired girl snapped her head up and looked at her with an expression of profound relief. Truth be told, she had been dying to go for ages, but she had been too terrified of the grandmother-grandson duo to move, holding it in until she felt like she might explode.
“Ah! Sure! I—I’ll go with you!”
“Huh? Oh, alright.”
Wen Ya had originally intended to say she could go alone, but seeing the desperate, pleading look in the short-haired girl’s eyes, she changed her mind.
The two of them walked down the aisle toward the restroom together, relieved to find only one person waiting in line ahead of them.