CTJM - 15

Chapter 15: Sweet Potatoes

“I’ve accepted your friend request. We can now start chatting.”

A new night, another sleepless one.

Yin Mengxi lay in her bed, tossing and turning once again. Her phone screen glowed faintly in the darkness, displaying an empty chat window with only the dry system message confirming their newly added friendship.

“Wei Zhi”—his QQ nickname. His profile picture was a cropped section of an ancient painting. After a quick search, she discovered it was a detail from Travelers by Streams and Mountains, a silk-and-ink painting by Fan Kuan of the Northern Song Dynasty.

—Simple yet elegant, a bit neglected, truly fitting of his style.

Her lips curved into a smile as she ventured into his QQ space. The background was the default system wallpaper. His posts were minimal: six in total, zero blog entries, three photo albums, 357 comments, and 13,276 visitors. Of the six posts, three featured images of Tang and Song dynasty paintings, while the other three were forwarded summaries of academic conferences.

...It was all so incredibly sparse.

But she didn’t mind. She still found it fascinating, meticulously reading through everything he had posted—even though the experts’ speeches were difficult for an outsider like her to comprehend. After finishing, she returned to the blank chat window, staring at the empty screen as if hoping to see something bloom. Perhaps deep down, she harbored an impractical fantasy—that he might suddenly send her a message that would make her heart race.

—But how could that be possible?

It was already 1 AM.

...Besides, he had no reason to contact her.

She pursed her lips, her fingers hovering over the input box repeatedly. She typed out greetings, deleted them, retyped them, and deleted them again—back and forth countless times. By then, it was already late, and she knew she wouldn’t dare send anything. Yet she continued this meaningless ritual, driven by an unrelenting flutter of excitement and anticipation.

—She wanted so badly to talk to him.

Maybe tomorrow... could she send him a message?

After a restless night, Yin Mengxi woke up the next morning with an idea.

—She could send him a red envelope.

The last time at the campus clinic, he had paid for her medication. In her feverish haze, she had completely forgotten to repay him. Now, this could serve as the perfect excuse to send him their first message.

Summoning her courage, she stuffed 30 yuan into the red envelope and hit send. Her heart pounded wildly as she awaited his reply, her anticipation stronger than ever. But after ten minutes, the chat window remained unchanged. She felt a pang of disappointment but wasn’t entirely disheartened. Based on her observations at the library, she knew he wasn’t someone who frequently checked his phone. He was probably busy and would respond later.

So, she went to her major class with her roommates. Throughout the lecture, her peripheral vision kept darting to her phone. Every time it lit up, her heart skipped a beat, thinking it might be him. By noon, he still hadn’t replied. At the cafeteria, she almost hallucinated, convinced she heard her QQ notification sound. She kept checking her phone, but there was still no response.

“Waiting for a text?”

Min Rui, ever observant, immediately noticed her unease. While eating the popular oil-splashed noodles from the third cafeteria window, she teased her.

“Added Xiao Zhi on QQ, huh?”

Yin Mengxi blushed, too embarrassed to respond. Min Rui kept clicking her tongue, calling her “a girl too smitten to stay,” and was about to lecture her further when Yin Mengxi’s phone suddenly lit up. She grabbed it quickly—it was indeed Xiao Zhi, replying with just a single punctuation mark:

“? “

—What did that mean? Was he puzzled about why she sent him a red envelope?

Anxiously, Yin Mengxi set down her chopsticks and focused entirely on her phone. Min Rui shook her head in exasperation, advising her from the side: “Don’t reply so quickly! You waited all morning for him—let him wait a bit too. Men need to be played hard to get; you can’t be so yielding...”

But her advice fell on deaf ears. Yin Mengxi was already typing furiously.

Her: Senior, you covered my medication costs at the campus clinic last time, and I completely forgot to repay you. I feel terrible about it.

This time, he didn’t keep her waiting long and replied soon after.

Him: It’s fine. Just a small favor.

And that was it. After about two minutes, he still hadn’t claimed her red envelope.

Her: ?

Her: Senior, please accept the red envelope.

Still no response after half a minute.

Her: Then I’ll give you cash next time?

Meanwhile, on the second floor of the cafeteria, Xiao Zhi was also present.

He had just gotten his food and was walking toward his roommates’ table with his tray while replying to her message. As soon as he sat down, Zhou Xinzhe teased him: “Who’s messaging you? Tang Fei again?”

Guo Yue, sitting next to Xiao Zhi, leaned over without any pretense and peeked at his phone. “No, no, no—it’s a three-character nickname. Looks like a girl based on the profile picture!”

“This can’t be blamed on Tang Fei being persistent,” Wang Yu chimed in. “It’s because Teacher Xiao is just too irresistible to the underclassmen. And now that she’s on exchange at Southeast University this semester, she’s probably feeling insecure.”

“What’s this new girl’s approach?” Zhou Xinzhe teased, snatching a piece of sweet-and-sour pork rib from Wang Yu’s tray. “Still pretending to discuss academic problems?”

“Nope, this one’s wild,” Guo Yue chuckled mischievously. “The girl sent Teacher Xiao money!”

“What the heck?” Zhou Xinzhe nearly burst out laughing. “Is she trying to keep him as a sugar daddy?”

The group bantered back and forth, creating quite the commotion. Xiao Zhi ignored them entirely, but Wang Yu, taking advantage of his distraction, snatched Xiao Zhi’s phone away. Laughing, he teased, “Let’s see how wild this girl is—our Teacher Xiao is worth a lot more than this!”

Before Xiao Zhi could stop him, Wang Yu claimed the red envelope.

It showed—30 yuan.

“Huh? Why only 30?”

“Laughable! Spread the word: Teacher Xiao is worth 30!”

“Yin Mengxi... have you guys heard this name? Which department is she from?”

When Yin Mengxi left the cafeteria, she noticed the red envelope had been claimed. A short while later, she received another red envelope from him.

Him: There wasn’t that much.

—Was he trying to make up the difference?

She smiled faintly, refusing to claim the red envelope. Now it was his turn to worry.

Him: There really wasn’t that much. Please accept it.

Her smile widened slightly, revealing two sweet dimples. After some thought, she responded with an adorable bunny emoji.

That evening, after submitting her news article for the Youth League Committee, she finally returned to the library.

He was still there at around 8 PM. When the library closed, they happened to meet at the exit. After exchanging greetings, it felt natural for them to walk out together.

“The medication last time only cost about ten yuan,” he hadn’t forgotten the matter. “The campus clinic reimburses a large percentage—it wasn’t 30.”

“Mm,” she responded quietly, swiping her student ID card to check out without addressing his comment.

He paused, seemingly a bit exasperated. After a moment, he glanced at her and urged again, “Please accept the red envelope.”

By then, they had walked out of the library doors. The early December wind cut through to the bone, no matter how well she bundled up with gloves and scarves. As soon as she stepped outside, she shivered involuntarily, thinking how much worse the climate in City A was compared to her hometown.

“I’ll pass,” she said, rubbing her hands together. “You already went through the trouble of walking me over.”

It was clear she had no intention of accepting that red envelope.

Xiao Zhi sighed and didn’t say anything further. She wondered if he was a little upset and felt uneasy. As they turned at the intersection, she noticed him silently move from her right side to her left, blocking the cold wind blowing from that direction.

...Was this a coincidence?

Or...

Her heart melted completely.

“Do you want something to eat?”

He suddenly asked.

She was momentarily stunned, not fully processing his question. When she looked up at him, she saw him glance toward the road. Following his gaze, she spotted a small stall selling roasted sweet potatoes. At this hour, there were hardly any customers, but it had been quite popular earlier in the evening when many students heading to night classes would buy one on their way.

Was he... offering to buy her a roasted sweet potato?

Was this his way of returning the extra money?

She secretly smiled, finding his stubbornness endearing. Though she didn’t usually eat late-night snacks and didn’t want to take advantage of him, she couldn’t resist the temptation in the end. “I... do,” she replied softly.

“Mm,” he acknowledged, leading her across the street after the traffic light turned green. By then, the sweet potato vendor, an elderly man, was about to pack up. Only a few oversized sweet potatoes remained on the grill.

“Students, would you like two?”

The elderly man was warm and welcoming, his charcoal grill radiating comforting warmth into the chilly winter night.

“One will do,” Xiao Zhi replied, glancing down at her. “Pick one?”

There wasn’t much choice left—each remaining sweet potato was absurdly large. These kinds, when split open, often weren’t fully cooked inside, making them less fragrant and flavorful than the smaller ones.

She picked the smallest one available, and the elderly man wrapped it in a small plastic bag for her. When she took it in both hands, the steaming hot sweet potato acted like a tiny heater, warming her icy palms.

...So warm.

Xiao Zhi paid, and they headed back to campus together. Looking at the large sweet potato in her hands and the man beside her, she tentatively asked, “...Senior, would you like some?”

He shook his head. “You eat it.”

“I can’t finish it alone...” She raised her hand to show him just how big the sweet potato was. “...Maybe we should split it?”

He glanced at it—it was indeed huge. Seeing that he didn’t immediately refuse, she boldly tore the sweet potato in half through the plastic bag, splitting it into a larger and a smaller piece. She handed him the bigger half and kept the smaller one for herself.

“Let’s share,” her face flushed, dimples faintly visible. “It’s really good.”

The winter night after 10 PM was tranquil and serene. The sweet aroma of roasted sweet potatoes lingered in the cold air. Her clear, pure eyes reflected the glow of the streetlights by the school gate, sparkling and beautiful.

He accepted the piece, feeling its warmth just as she did. Her cheeks were slightly red, and she had already lowered her head to nibble on the sweet potato delicately, bite by bite, quiet and adorable.

“Is it tasty?”

She heard him ask from beside her.

Truthfully, it wasn’t particularly delicious—just as she had predicted. The overly large sweet potato hadn’t been fully roasted, leaving the inside rather bland. But the beauty of that peaceful night transcended the taste. The streetlight stretched their shadows long, and she stood beside him, her shadow nestled within his.

“...Yes,” she whispered softly.

The sweetness spread.