16 – vol.1 Truffle Dark Chocolate
Wen Ruosui returned to the café with a heavy heart.
The young men were still gathered around the bar, their faces still wearing carefree, cheerful expressions as they stood leaning casually, chatting idly about school topics.
Noticing her return, one of the boys asked curiously, “Hey, boss, what were you doing outside just now?”
Wen Ruosui wasn’t in the mood to respond and simply shook her head, replying, “Nothing much.”
She returned to the counter and mechanically prepared the ordered drinks.
Only after finishing the beverages and the boys finally dispersed from the bar did she find time to clear the leftover food from the table by the window.
“Xiao Hui, take a break for now. I’ll go clean up the table by the window.”
Xiao Hui, who had just relaxed from the busy rush, responded with an “okay” before picking up her phone to scroll through.
Wen Ruosui walked over to the square table by the window, her mind preoccupied.
Standing beside the table, she stared blankly at everything on it. The layout was almost exactly as it had been when she first served it.
At the seat where the man surnamed Pei had sat, both cups of coffee had only been sipped a little. The limited-edition cake had only a small corner missing, likely just a bite or two.
Clearly, he hadn’t enjoyed the coffee or cake she made.
It could even be said—
He disliked them.
Recalling his earlier words—”quite average”—Wen Ruosui felt even more disheartened, her hand hesitating to reach out and clear these barely touched dishes.
In truth, every cake was a carefully crafted work of art by the pastry chef, a treasure made with great care. Any pastry chef would feel disheartened when a customer didn’t enjoy their creation.
And she was no exception.
The fact that the cake she had eagerly presented was not appreciated by the other party left her feeling defeated.
But looking at it from another perspective, it wasn’t such a big deal.
After all, a person of his distinguished demeanor likely belonged in places like the Champs-Élysées, Triumph Avenue, Times Square in New York, or Oxford Street in London—places ablaze with lights, opulent and luxurious.
A small suburban café like this was ultimately out of place for someone like him.
For a long while, Wen Ruosui quietly gazed at the fully set table.
Only after an indeterminate amount of time had passed did she finally reach out and place the small plates back onto the tray.
Halfway through cleaning up, she remembered the napkin on which she had written “Thank you”—
She instinctively searched for it.
Soon enough, she found it.
The napkin was crumpled into a messy, wrinkled ball, carelessly tossed beside the coffee saucer.
Without any disdain, Wen Ruosui gently unfolded the white napkin with her fingertips.
The chocolate handwriting on the white napkin had long since blurred into a chaotic mess, the brown stains contrasting starkly against the white paper, an uncomfortable sight.
He must have seen it.
But as he had said, such trivial matters weren’t worth dwelling on.
Seeing this, she felt an inexplicable sadness.
It was the sorrow of a heartfelt gesture of gratitude going unacknowledged. Something she had offered with such hopeful anticipation, yet he had only taken a small taste before hurriedly leaving.
Her mood sank almost to its lowest point.
He simply didn’t want her to thank him.Even if he remembered, he would choose to forget. To him, she was just an insignificant stranger; he didn’t want to have the slightest connection with her, not even a simple thank you.
She smiled self-deprecatingly.
Only she was still holding onto that night’s events.
She even had the ridiculous thought of regretting not leaving the suit jacket at the shop. Naively thinking that if she had, she could have returned it to him just now. Or perhaps she could have asked Zhou Wensen for his contact information and found a time to give him the jacket.
But now, it seemed unnecessary. He probably didn’t need a jacket that had passed through a stranger’s hands.
Such a jacket was already worthless.
In the afternoon, as closing time approached, Zhou Wensen indeed returned to the café.
His first words upon entering were filled with lament: “Suisui, my beauty, my project really didn’t work out, and I got chewed out by my boss, saying I’m incompetent. I’m so devastated.”
Wen Ruosui walked over with a glass of room-temperature lemon water and placed it on the table in front of him.
She pulled out a chair and sat down, feeling a bit guilty as she said, “Was it because I didn’t host him well enough?”
Zhou Wensen quickly waved his hands, his expression turning serious. “Of course not, it’s not your fault at all.”
He picked up the glass, took a sip, and began reflecting on himself: “Actually, it’s my fault. A big boss like him, used to Michelin three-star desserts, how could he possibly like the cakes from a small shop like this?”
After a pause, he added a complaint about the company’s unreasonable arrangements: “Of course, the root of the problem is the company’s arrangement. Why would they assign me to host such an important figure? My rank isn’t even high enough, and they made me waste time in this godforsaken place. How could I possibly succeed?”
Catching the information in his words, Wen Ruosui was slightly taken aback.
She asked thoughtfully, “Is that Mr. Pei a very important person for your company?”
Zhou Wensen put down the glass, rested his chin on his hand, and pondered how to answer her question.
He furrowed his brows and said, “How should I put it…” After a moment, his eyes lit up, and he spoke earnestly:
“Have you heard of Joyful Technology?”
Wen Ruosui froze.
Joyful Technology…
Wasn’t that Yan Heng’s company?
She blinked and nodded. “Yes… I know of it. It’s a top internet company.”
Zhou Wensen placed his palms on the table and explained with great seriousness: “Mr. Pei is in investments, and Joyful Technology—this company was one of his early investments, back when he had just graduated.”
“Now, after so many years in investments, he’s backed countless successful projects, and his wealth has multiplied who knows how many times. Everyone in the venture capital circle knows him. I’ve also heard he has a lot of connections, so almost everything he touches turns to gold.”
“Our company’s project this time was hoping to secure his investment. After all, any project he gets involved with not only solves funding issues but also gains immense visibility in no time.”
“So, you tell me, isn’t someone like that incredibly important to us?”
As he spoke, Zhou Wensen was serious and earnest, completely unlike his playful demeanor when joking around with his boyfriend.
It was clear that he held this person in genuine respect.
After listening, Wen Ruosui felt an inexplicable sense of relief.So he was actually such a favored son of heaven.
A person at the pinnacle of the pyramid—no wonder he looked down on this place, and no wonder he ignored her gratitude, not even sparing it a glance.
Even Yan Heng, an employee of Joyful Technology, felt coming to her shop was beneath him.
A big shot like him would certainly not think there was anything good about her place.
All the lingering frustration now had an explanation.
She felt a weight lifted off her shoulders, and the discomfort in her heart finally found its place.
Wen Ruosui clasped her hands together, resting them on her knees, and softly said, “So that’s how it is. No wonder he barely touched anything on the table.”
Then, with a sudden, embarrassed smile, she said to Zhou Wensen, “I was worried I hadn’t done well enough.”