TPIL - 51

As everyone knows, Qi Xiaochuan has always detested intimacy and loathed physical contact, including fighting. But at this very moment, despite having done so multiple times already, he unconsciously continues to stroke the back of Luo Andi's neck.

At one point, she had giggled, even taking back control when he was inexplicably confused, smugly and affectionately saying, “Leave it to me.” Yet, not even half a minute passed before she found herself back in the position of being dominated. Several times, she reached her limit—not because she was tired, but because she had nearly reached her threshold—and was unexpectedly caught off guard to find him still staring at her.

Qi Xiaochuan carried her to wash up, and Luo Andi happily accepted his service, though her back and waist ached. She still managed to direct him: “Use this body wash,” “I want to apply some lotion,” and “I really want a glass of warm milk.”

After deciding to stop, he genuinely didn’t continue, obediently showering again. Too lazy to change the bedding, they simply switched rooms. He brought in the warm milk for her.

Luo Andi held the mug with both hands, pressing her cheeks against the warmth of the cup walls, took a sip, then smiled brightly and said, “You put in so much honey.”

“Mm,” he replied, merely remembering her preferences. His verbal response was, “There happened to be extra honey.”

She never questioned his seemingly indifferent behavior in these small matters, instead bringing up her own trivial concerns about daily life: “I'm so tired. I still have to work tomorrow.”

“You don't like working?” Qi Xiaochuan’s expression remained unchanged, but inside, he was somewhat surprised. He had always thought she truly loved her job.

As if reading his thoughts, Luo Andi answered his unspoken question: “I really love this shop, and I love my profession. But no job is always smooth sailing—there are bound to be worries.”

“I—” he began, but was suddenly interrupted as the woman cupped his face with her hands. Qi Xiaochuan had never allowed anyone to treat him so casually, nor would he tolerate such behavior from anyone else—if that person weren’t Luo Andi.

She said, “It doesn't matter.”

It was as if she were making him a promise, which made him feel a bit lonely. To make up for it, that night, she stayed up chatting with him for a while. Though it was more accurate to say that Luo Andi simply couldn’t sleep, while Qi Xiaochuan forced himself to stay awake. Several times, he pretended to fall asleep, only to give up each time due to her soft, pitiful voice.

She asked him, “Now it’s my turn to ask you, Xiaoxiao. Is there anything you particularly want?”

His eyes were too heavy to keep open, and he answered impatiently without hesitation: “U.S. dollars.”

“Not that kind of thing,” she said, not the least bit upset, instead laughing. “What about an important person?”

“Luo Andi, you really like talking nonsense,” he feigned anger, though it had no effect on her whatsoever.

On the verge of being swallowed by sleep, she reminded him, “Didn’t you give the knitted hat you made to Uncle Qi?”

“Mm,” he didn’t deny it.

It was true; Qi Xiaochuan had tasked his driver, who was bored during overtime shifts, with delivering it via local courier. Upon receiving the hat—knitted with two different stitch patterns and adorned with flashy designs—his father eagerly called to ask, “What is this? Did my future daughter-in-law knit this?” Worth noting, at the time, his father still didn’t know the nature of Luo Andi and Qi Xiaochuan’s relationship.

Qi Xiaochuan coldly shattered his father’s fantasy: “I knitted it.”

“...” The words “Bring her home to meet us” were abruptly twisted into “Good craftsmanship.” Qi Xiaochuan’s father remarked, “But how did you manage to add a pattern to the brim? It looks quite fashionable. Was it difficult to knit?”

“Not really. My knitting teacher said this design works better.” Qi Xiaochuan’s voice was as flat as a dead person’s ECG. “Just knit from bottom to top, count a few stitches for ribbing, measure a few centimeters to switch to stockinette stitch, follow the color scheme in the book, and finally embroider the edges with a darker color.”

“Wow, you little rascal. You make it sound as easy as a chef flipping a wok,” his father teased, though clearly, he still liked the hat very much.

Back to the present, the next morning, the two of them rarely woke up at the same time. Though the main reason was that Qi Xiaochuan forgot to turn off the alarm clock, which rudely woke Luo Andi as well. He reheated the breakfast prepared by the housekeeping staff the day before, and the two sat at opposite ends of the dining table to eat.

Luo Andi said, “Didn't you say you could make something for me too?”

It was just a casual remark he had made at the time to get her to talk, but Qi Xiaochuan didn’t deny that he had promised. After giving it some thought, he eventually replied, “What do you want?”

She was still thinking, hesitating as if she couldn’t decide: “...How about needle-felted wool?”

“I’m really bad at that.” He quickly responded.

“Not that bad, though. Everyone's first attempt is like that. Besides, I haven’t even seen the final result yet,” Luo Andi said. “Though compared to your usual standards, it’s a bit lacking.”

He didn’t argue further: “Mm.”

Luo Andi hadn’t finished the food on her plate and was already sipping tea while petting the cat resting on her lap when she suddenly remarked, “Maybe it's because Xiaoxiao, you’re just too soft-hearted.”

“What?” Qi Xiaochuan looked as if he’d just heard someone call Arnold Schwarzenegger cute, describe the Mona Lisa as ugly, or say Guo Degang was sensually attractive—utterly speechless.

“Because making felted wool involves poking the wool repeatedly until it mats. Actually, I’ve encountered customers who felt weird about it too. You’re constantly jabbing needles into something—it doesn’t remind you of Aunt Rong from Story of Yanxi Palace ?”

“No, it doesn’t.”

Luo Andi continued enthusiastically, while Qi Xiaochuan understood none of it.

He wasn’t particularly fond of her cat, unlike Zhong Shiyiwei or others who were eager to express affection. From the very beginning, he had been straightforward in admitting it. It wasn’t prejudice against Alexander McQueen, but rather that pets in general fell outside his realm of interest. Qi Xiaochuan couldn’t quite relate to emotional fluctuations caused by raising animals. However, he did somewhat understand her desire to save things. That said, Qi Xiaochuan often harbored hostility toward things that resembled himself.

The weather was decent enough, and Luo Andi went to work.

But problems don’t just disappear on their own.

If you don’t overcome them, trouble will keep coming your way.

Students claiming to be under Su Yining’s banner kept arriving in droves. Aside from continuing lessons with already signed-up customers, Luo Andi had no other choice. During lunch break, while eating the set meal prepared by the shop’s auntie, she suddenly received a message. She picked up her chopsticks and looked up to see a colleague walking in with a large bouquet of bright yellow roses.

“Oh!” The young woman exclaimed joyfully, “Andi-ge! Aren’t these your favorite flowers?”

Luo Andi hastily took a sip of corn rib soup, wiped her mouth, and got up, approaching with evident confusion. The colleague had already picked up the card tucked in the middle of the bouquet and read it aloud with a smile: “'Repeatedly walking away, yet repeatedly finding happiness'… Is this poetry? Is it from a famous poet? Wow, these flowers must have cost a fortune—they're so romantic!”

By the time this sentence was uttered, Luo Andi had slowed her pace, stopping in place with hesitation.

Sure enough, the colleague continued reading: “...'Su Yining.'“

Luo Andi gave a perfunctory smile and reached out to take the bouquet.

“Just like a K-drama, so cool!”

“He’s pursuing you, right? Mr. Su. He’s really pursuing you, isn’t he?”

“Haven’t you two been meeting occasionally before?”

Luo Andi gently adjusted the position of the flowers in the bouquet. As a child, she had taken all sorts of classes, including floral arrangement: “That’s because Mr. Su has things to discuss with me. This bouquet is probably a token of gratitude, which is why they’re my favorite flowers.”

At this point, Luo Andi had developed immunity and foresight regarding such situations. Immediately after receiving the bouquet, she sent a polite text expressing thanks and declining further gestures.

Yet, as expected, it was right on the mark—not a single misstep. The next day, an additional bouquet of red roses arrived.

Luo Andi sorted through the flowers, trimmed and arranged them, and didn’t use a single stem in the shop. Instead, she placed them all in the woven vase made during a previous rattan-weaving class and sent them to a neighbor’s store. With many new businesses opening nearby recently, they came in handy. This continued for several days. Initially, she worried that her actions might be too subtle, and Su Yining wouldn’t back off. But after a few days, it was the messengers he sent who started acting up. Whether they were following Prince Charming’s orders or not, no one knew.

The first and second groups expressed dissatisfaction. The older ones lectured condescendingly, but the younger ones were harder to deal with. Whispering among themselves, they mocked her with an air of superiority, as if belonging to an exclusive clique made them better. Luo Andi naturally avoided direct confrontation with anyone, but when approached, she found herself being cornered over lost items.

“Hey, teacher,” the girl exuded the same arrogant aura as Gao Jie’s companions, but hers was more despicable, more hateful, and utterly devoid of kindness. “Last time we lost a watch in your shop. Shouldn’t your shop take responsibility for it?”

Luo Andi remained perfectly still, smiling gently as she asked in a soft voice, “When exactly was it lost? Are you sure it was in our shop?”

“How dare you accuse us of lying?”

For the first time, the usually gentle woman showed a side of stubbornness: “Well, it’s not necessarily true, is it?”

“That watch is a brand-new Bulgari model. Do you have any idea how much it costs? How long would you have to slave away to save up that kind of money?” Without reason, the topic veered elsewhere. “You’re just a gold digger, aren’t you? Do you really think you’re something special?”

For a moment, Luo Andi said nothing.

She simply stared at them. To be honest, she didn’t feel hurt in that moment—just purely sad. Logically speaking, she had never harmed them. So why would they choose to hurt an innocent stranger for no reason?

Some of the shop staff had already heard the commotion and glanced over, but since the manager hadn’t called them, they merely eavesdropped from the sidelines.

Qu Guozhong’s time was not cheap—every minute he spent earned him the equivalent of what an average salary worker might make in a quarter or even a year. Yet, he still came. Originally, he had only given Luo Andi’s name at the front desk, but fatefully, he walked in at this unfortunate moment.

He saw Luo Andi’s back.

He had seen her as a child, more than once. Luo Andi was always the girl standing behind her younger brother. He used to visit her father, fishing together during the sweltering heat. Qu Guozhong had suffered from low blood sugar for years and had scheduled regular treatments. The daughter of his old friend, quiet and unassuming, had cleverly noticed his pale face and abruptly handed him a piece of candy.

At the time, he hadn’t realized she would be the only one left in the end.

Qu Guozhong signaled with his eyes, and his bodyguards stepped forward. He didn’t intend to stand up for her—he merely wanted to repay the kindness of that single piece of candy: “Who would even want such a broken watch?”