TPIL - 46

Qi Xiaochuan hated being the center of attention without reason. He wasn’t a public park—people shouldn’t be able to look at him for free without buying tickets. Just as he was about to glare back in irritation, he unexpectedly met the housewife’s piercing gaze. Perhaps her jealousy stemmed from her inferior knitting skills or long-standing resentment, but she stubbornly latched onto this topic.

The housewife asked him with clarity and precision, her tone resembling Judge Bao interrogating a suspect: “You say you have a girlfriend—is it true? Or is it just Microsoft Xiao Bing?”

Qi Xiaochuan took a sip of today’s jasmine tea from the store and nearly choked: “Why don’t you ask if my girlfriend is from an anime?”

To his surprise, the other person seriously retorted, “Is that so?”

He stared at her, saying nothing. The handcraft class likely couldn’t proceed further; with the country still divided, who had the heart to learn? As Qi Xiaochuan was about to stand up, the auntie proactively suggested, “Alright, I believe you. Then let’s play a quick Q&A. At least let me understand what type of person you like.”

“Even if I liked Cortana, it wouldn’t be any of your business,” he said, pretending to leave.

However, one sentence stopped him in his tracks: “It seems there really is someone. You’re trying so hard to keep it a secret—could it be someone we all know…?”

In the vast classroom, aside from the beach A□□R playing on the speakers, only the sound of Luo Andi moving her knitting needles could be heard.

Qi Xiaochuan now understood the power of age and social experience suppressing others. To prevent suspicion from spreading, he sat down without hesitation: “What do you want to ask?”

“The rule of ‘quick Q&A’ is that you must answer immediately upon hearing the question.”

“No kidding, I’m not in a good mood,” he replied.

The purpose of this game was to elicit the most genuine reactions. If questions were targeted, it would be hard for the respondent to conceal information.

“Do you like your girlfriend?”

“Obviously.”

“Is your girlfriend female?”

“Are you doing this on purpose?”

“Don’t answer a question with a question. Do you prefer long hair or short hair?”

“Short hair.”

“What’s your girlfriend’s catchphrase?”

“What ‘ga’ and what ‘ga’? Nothing special, but she laughs very openly when she’s happy.”

“Is there anything you worry about regarding her?”

“High blood sugar.”

After a barrage of random questions, everyone agreed: “Sounds convincing…” “Seems like it’s true.” “He actually has a girlfriend!”

“Of course,” Qi Xiaochuan proudly left the room.

Luo Andi finished the modifications at hand, then refilled their tea once more. When the wall clock chimed, she exchanged farewells with her colleagues behind the counter, changed into casual clothes in the break room, and left work.

She walked around outside. Recently, several nearby stores had coincidentally started renovations. Luo Andi looked around, occasionally checking her phone, and eventually entered a newly opened dessert shop. Qi Xiaochuan was using a PC. She approached, and as she sat down, she noticed a latte with a rabbit-shaped design on the table. “Wow…” Before her voice faded, he pushed it toward her and signaled the waiter. Immediately, the pre-cut cake was brought over.

Luo Andi gently stirred her coffee. Judging by the shape of the ice cubes at the bottom, she deduced it hadn’t been served long ago. She smiled: “I’ve liked this shop for a long time. I didn’t expect a branch to open here. There are so few people today.”

Qi Xiaochuan remained silent, merely staring at her. Her fingers, wrists, and neck were quite delicate, perfect for wearing rings, bracelets, and necklaces. Lost in thought, he inadvertently began pondering which jewelry would suit her best.

Luo Andi woke him up. She placed the cup back on the table, picked up her fork, and said, “When you answered them earlier, you weren’t talking about me, right?”

Reluctantly pulling his gaze away, he replied, “Mm. It’s the female artist I like.”

“Shen Dianxia?”

“How did you know?”

She smiled, cutting the cake into bite-sized pieces: “Chuishun told me before.”

“Why did he tell you that?” He revealed his displeasure, not because of anything else but a sense of betrayal akin to having private chats exposed.

“I was curious and wanted to know what kind of women you like—celebrities are fine too. So I had Chuishun ask for me.” Luo Andi ate her cake, smiling brightly. “At first, he lied and said it was Jeon Ji-hyun—I thought there was no hope. Then he told the truth.”

Only now did Qi Xiaochuan realize that Luo Chuishun had asked him that question years ago on behalf of Luo Andi. Unearthing such an old secret felt strange, and he silently reflected. Suddenly, she asked again, “Why do you like Shen Dianxia? Is it because of her singing, acting, or hosting?”

Qi Xiaochuan interlaced his fingers, stretching them in front of him while unconsciously lowering his face. He’d never confessed this to anyone, and instinctively hid his expression now: “It’s nothing—just a mistaken feeling. I always feel a sense of familiarity.”

“What do you mean?”

He had no intention of lying to her: “I don’t remember anything about my biological parents from childhood—not a single thing. But sometimes, I vaguely feel my mother was very plump.”

She offered no extra commentary, simply gazing at him and patiently replying, “Mm.”

“That’s all I know. Whether she’s alive or dead now…” He relaxed his arms and spoke slowly, “Whether she ever looked for me… It doesn’t matter anymore.”

She asked him, “Do you want some cake?”

Qi Xiaochuan shook his head, suddenly feeling smug again: “They were all fooled by me earlier—they didn’t think of you at all.”

“Mm,” Luo Andi’s smile resembled juice flowing through the pristine interior of a straw, revealing a warm hue. “But they were all saying they’ll invite you and your girlfriend on a picnic next time.”

“…” His smugness instantly collapsed, clearly dissatisfied: “Who wants to go on a picnic with them?”

They didn’t return together.

Luo Andi went to the supermarket. When she came out, it started raining. She returned to borrow an umbrella from the department store. Not far from the entrance, someone approached from behind, unhesitatingly stepping under her umbrella.

Su Yining took the umbrella handle and raised it higher, casually offering a uniquely phrased greeting: “Congratulations on becoming the store manager.”

“Thank you.” Facing congratulations, Luo Andi gave a standard reply, but refrained from mentioning anything else.

Once again, Su Yining got straight to the point, though his tone carried a tragic air of resignation: “I think it’s not completely impossible for us.”

Luo Andi effortlessly concealed her fatigue—it was her specialty. Smiling lightly, she declined: “…Mr. Su.”

He also knew how to use facts to argue: “If you truly felt nothing for me, why were you so nice to me back then?”

“I just wanted to help you.”

“Really?” Su Yining’s love was like scorching cigarette ash, burning through thin fabric instantly. “I don’t ask for anything else—just hope you recognize your own feelings.”

With that, he turned and left, tightly gripping the umbrella. She watched helplessly as the umbrella borrowed from the department store was taken away, while she remained under the eaves, the rain outside forming a thick barrier.

During work, she squeezed in a belated dinner. The secretary unwrapped chopsticks and casually asked, “Have you seen the quote from last time?”

Unusually, Qi Xiaochuan wasn’t enthusiastic about eating, instead appearing absent-minded, blurting out something irrelevant: “I hate housewives who play ‘quick Q&A’…”

“What?” The secretary was utterly confused, even contemplating touching his forehead to check if the IQ insurance the company invested in for senior staff should be activated.

After the new monthly schedule was released, Qi Xiaochuan realized it would be difficult to visit Paradise Handicrafts for knitting anytime soon. He found time to visit the store before closing, even though he knew Luo Andi had already left work. Still, he effortlessly asked the staff to retrieve his half-finished handicraft.

He hastily stuffed it into his briefcase. Among the professional gear, the woolen hat and knitting tools stood out awkwardly.

After finishing overtime, he yawned and took the car home, asking the driver to stop early for convenience. The driver smiled and added a parting remark: “Mr. Qi has been in a surprisingly good mood lately—kindlier than usual.” Qi Xiaochuan frowned, walking away while secretly deciding that next time, he’d make the driver stop exactly five centimeters from the door lock, just to see who’d dare call him kind.

Carrying Schrödinger’s fatigue within him, he arrived home and went to wash up.

Technically, Luo Andi had already moved in, though they hadn’t crossed paths yet. He initially planned to knock on her door or greet her as the host, asking if she needed anything. However, his back desperately needed rest, so he headed to the bedroom first. Just as he was about to lie down, the door suddenly opened, startling him, and he tumbled into the bed.

Luo Andi, wearing a shirt-like nightgown, simply smiled faintly, closed the door, and walked over. Qi Xiaochuan felt flustered, hurriedly getting out of bed to stand at attention like a disciplined soldier. She sat on the edge of his bed, tucked her legs up, pulled the blanket over herself, and lay back with a sigh.

Qi Xiaochuan asked an incredibly foolish question: “Do you still plan to sleep elsewhere?”

Luo Andi turned her head to look at him, holding the blanket: “Probably not.”

He lay down too. Honestly, at that moment, Qi Xiaochuan wasn’t thinking much. He simply felt it would be embarrassing to flee from his own bed, so he stayed and even casually asked Luo Andi to turn off the light, since the switch was on her side.

The room fell into darkness. He should have waited for sleep to come, but inexplicably, a new question lingered in his mind. Qi Xiaochuan tried to keep his tone calm: “How many people have you dated? Don’t answer if you don’t want to.”

“Hmm?” Luo Andi pursed her lips. “A few, I guess. What about you, Little Xiao?”

He was a man with an unhappy face, and his rejection of her in the past was no lie. He never imagined living with anyone; his life plan ended with lonely aging, preferably surrounded by cash in the crematorium to highlight the meaning of his existence—if such behavior didn’t violate the Regulations on the Administration of Renminbi . Such a character being perpetually single made perfect sense.

Qi Xiaochuan coughed lightly, evading the question: “Were any of them mean to you?”

Referencing her principles of conduct, he added, “Anything that made you feel forced counts.”

Luo Andi chuckled and replied, “Don’t worry, none of them. I’m not as submissive as you think.”

Her mood wasn’t particularly cheerful. Even the most virtuous people might feel restless or bitter, which explained real-life cases of princesses crashing cars or earls getting drunk. Luo Andi closed her eyes, a faint smile surfacing almost as a form of self-protection. In a near-whisper, she said, “Little Xiao, you once said I could ask you for help with anything, right?”

The pitch-black night was Qi Xiaochuan’s tacit approval.

Luo Andi’s voice emerged, both hers and yet unfamiliar, as if a heart bound by iron hoops broke free and began beating again: “Shall we do it?”

He heard her words clearly, with no misunderstanding. Qi Xiaochuan didn’t rush to respond. He possessed reliable judgment and often made promises more trustworthy than anyone or anything else. And she genuinely needed him.