TPIL - EXTRA 2

At the moment she was struck by the golden ball, Luo Andi instinctively flinched, her heart and body trembling as if shivering.

It didn’t hurt, but rather, her heart felt numb, leaving her momentarily immobilized.

She looked at him, and he quickly glanced past her.

Did their eyes meet?

Luo Andi wasn’t sure. She stared intently at him, even though he had already turned his face away, looking unwell as he listened to others talk.

He never looked at her again.

Luo Andi couldn’t tear her gaze away.

She barely noticed what they were saying, only aware that his expression visibly worsened from bad to worse.

The children around her laughed and jeered without restraint, but to her ears, it all blended into a buzzing noise like static.

She saw him extend his hand, Qi Xiaochuan squeezing through the gaps between people before pushing his way out.

From start to finish, he remained silent, his lips tightly pressed together.

It happened to be summer, and the part-time jobs of handing out flyers and setting up night market stalls had tanned him. Though because of his young age, his skin would soon lighten again.

He was stronger and more athletic than any of them, his body lines healthier—a trace left by life itself.

It wasn’t until the splash of water that Luo Andi snapped out of her wandering thoughts.

She rushed over, bending down like a flower closing its petals.

The lake shimmered with ripples, her white cotton socks stained with mud, but she didn’t care about any of it.

In the blink of an eye, Qi Xiaochuan had already climbed out of the pond, smoothing back his wet hair and raising an eyebrow as if letting out a sigh of relief.

He handed the ball to her.

Perhaps it was because he knew her, recognizing her as the young mistress of the house. Or perhaps it was because she was closest to him and had been watching him the entire time. Or maybe it was simply because he had hit her with the ball.

Luo Andi took the ball.

Water dripped from his fingertips onto its surface, and after she accepted it, the drops fell from the bottom of the ball onto her skirt.

One drop after another soaked her collar and splattered onto the back of her feet, yet Luo Andi just stood there.

Qi Xiaochuan didn’t make further contact with her. As he turned around, he glanced around, seemingly just confirming how to return to his original position.

She instinctively sensed he was about to leave, and her only thought was to establish some kind of connection with him.

In a moment of urgency, she remembered the movies where tying someone down often involved marriage.

Luo Andi blurted out the first words after meeting him. It was one of the rare moments she felt clever, though it was clearly inappropriate.

Luo Andi said, “Can I marry you when I grow up?”

She remembered it clearly—his face was filled with disbelief, as if he was about to burst out in anger the next second, but still, he only responded with, “Huh?”

She soon formally met him.

Qi Xiaochuan’s father and mother both worked for the Luo family—they were both very good people.

The Luo family had three drivers, and Qi Xiaochuan’s father was one of them.

Luo Andi especially liked this uncle. When he drove her to school, Qi Xiaochuan’s father often told funny stories that made everyone laugh heartily.

Not only that, but on important holidays, he would remind Luo Andi specifically. He was a meticulous and considerate person.

As for Qi Xiaochuan’s mother, she was even more remarkable.

She was a resilient and gentle woman, and Luo Andi’s mother often chatted with her.

She loved listening to Mrs. Luo play the piano.

It was as if fate brought them together—though she knew nothing about Western instruments, whenever she listened to the music, Qi Xiaochuan’s mother could always accurately guess Mrs. Luo’s mood.

Later, encouraged by Mrs. Luo, Qi’s mother picked up her old hobby of singing again.

They were like soulmates who had found each other too late, like the legendary friends of high mountains and flowing streams.

Luo Andi overheard his name.

Qi Xiaochuan introduced himself to the adults with an honest “Hello, Uncle and Aunt,” showing none of the shyness, annoyance, or other common emotions expected of a child.

Luo Andi thought his every word and action stood out—he was always out of place among others, yet completely unwavering.

After the others had left, she stepped forward and said, “Qi Xiaochuan, your name is ‘Qi Xiaochuan’?

I’m Luo Andi. Can I call you ‘Xiao Xiao’?”

Luo Andi remembered it clearly. The moment Qi Xiaochuan turned around, she knew—he must have realized she had been paying attention to him the whole time, but refrained from mentioning it out of politeness.

She remembered him saying, “Mm.”

Middle schooler Qi Xiaochuan replied, “I know you’re Luo Andi.”

That day, when the ball fell into the water, her friends nearby also heard Luo Andi’s “joke.”

A girl asked her why, and Luo Andi deliberately giggled and countered, “Isn’t he handsome?”

“But he’s not worthy of you.”

They spoke with such conviction.

Of course, mentioning only appearance was just a cover-up lie. Luo Andi was still young and hadn’t thought that far ahead—she simply liked him.

And soon, she learned something else.

Qi Xiaochuan was more mature than other children. Because of this, he understood what it meant for his parents to be employed by the Luo family.

The entire Qi family lived in the estate of the Luo family.

Their house was a distance away from the main residence. Though not as luxurious as the other buildings, it was still spacious, clean, and fully equipped. Most importantly, they could enjoy the environment of the estate—a view their income otherwise couldn’t afford.

Even if he didn’t care, for the sake of his parents’ situation, Qi Xiaochuan absolutely had to endure Luo Andi.

At first, he resolved to completely go along with Luo Andi.

Luo Andi gave him strange nicknames.

They say there’s a generational gap every three years, so no matter how you think about it, Qi Xiaochuan should have been like an older brother to her at that age.

However, Luo Andi clearly didn’t have that concept.

She liked calling him “Xiao Xiao,” her voice sometimes high, sometimes low, exuding the unique innocence of a little girl, like soap bubbles floating in the air.

When he had free time, it was fine, but unfortunately, most of the time, Qi Xiaochuan was so busy he couldn’t spare a moment. His patience for her endless questions was limited.

So soon enough, he lowered his expectations of himself to simply avoiding embarrassing Luo Andi.

It might sound disrespectful, but Luo Andi seemed to have a natural talent for causing trouble.

Even Qi Xiaochuan, during his teenage years when he couldn’t control his tongue, was scolded with “Don’t talk to Andi like that” while being dragged by the ear. Unable to bear it, he finally voiced his opinion, only to be met with unanimous opposition from his adoptive parents: “Go ask anyone you know—doesn’t everyone say Luo Andi is the most understanding person?”

“Exactly. Forget about causing trouble—Andi is always helping others solve problems.”

Qi Xiaochuan’s inner doubts remained unanswered. Was he the crazy one, or was everyone else? Or was Luo Andi, beneath her obedient and sensible exterior, actually hiding an unreasonable madwoman? They barely knew each other, were practically strangers, yet she treated him differently for no apparent reason.

She seemed to enjoy seeing his frustration when he couldn’t do anything about it.

Luo Andi gave Qi Xiaochuan gifts, shoving them into his hands regardless of whether he accepted them or not. She transferred to his school without any prior notice. She openly told others she liked him, making him the subject of everyone’s gossip and embarrassing him so much that even his grandmother, whose whereabouts were unknown for the next twenty years, would have been scandalized.

In the end, Qi Xiaochuan’s standards for himself kept dropping lower and lower, eventually reaching the symbolic bottom line of “as long as we don’t break ties.”

Precisely because Luo Andi rarely got angry, let alone with Qi Xiaochuan, the behavioral guidelines he set for himself in his mind almost completely lost their meaning.

This was exactly the result Luo Andi wanted.

When the TV drama Blue Love Story became wildly popular, all the classmates were watching it.

Luo Andi was no exception.

Everyone assumed children didn’t understand anything, but in reality, that wasn’t true.

On the contrary, precisely because they were middle schoolers, they were even more eager to hold hands, hug, and kiss the person they liked.

It was a Cinderella-like love story. The male protagonist used his power to suppress the female lead, tempting her with various benefits, only to be slapped across the face and firmly rejected.

He roared, “I can buy everything with money.”

From this, Luo Andi confirmed a fact even more deeply.

What she wanted was something money couldn’t buy.

Upon learning that Qi Xiaochuan was the student council president, Luo Andi quickly joined the student council as well.

There weren’t many opportunities for the junior high and high school departments to work together, but as long as she could interact with him more, she was happy.

By then, it was no secret that Luo Andi liked Qi Xiaochuan. They even jokingly chased after him, calling him “the adopted son-in-law.”

After finishing his speech as president in the school auditorium, Qi Xiaochuan returned to his class’s lineup.

A classmate behind him leaned over and whispered teasingly.

They said, “Qi Xiaochuan, aren’t you their family’s adopted son-in-law?

Once she turns sixteen, they can throw a banquet.”

If it had been a few years ago, he would have gotten into a fight right away.

But habit was a terrifying thing.

He simply responded indifferently with, “Did your parents teach you to talk like that?” Then he ignored them.

That day, he delivered his practiced sharp retort as usual. The only difference was that when he turned his head, he accidentally caught her gaze.

Luo Andi took everything in, staring blankly at him through the crowd.

Qi Xiaochuan had initially averted his gaze, seemingly pretending not to see her, but she remained motionless, silently observing him.

After a while, he suddenly turned back.

The student representative for the award-winning research project was still speaking, but Qi Xiaochuan abruptly broke the rules, muttering “Sorry, excuse me” to his classmates as he made his way through the crowd toward her.

His demeanor appeared formal, as if his actions were purely professional.

But when he lowered his head, he softly said to her, “Don’t listen to what they say.”

For a period of time, Luo Andi had instructed the driver to pick her and Qi Xiaochuan up every day for school and drop them off afterward.

Qi Xiaochuan strongly resisted this at first, gritting his teeth and swallowing his refusal. Over time, he grew accustomed to it, though he would occasionally blurt out, “No, thank you.”

Sometimes he rode his bike because he planned to skip class in the afternoon to work part-time.

But the school administration gradually mastered the art of the cat-and-mouse game, realizing that instead of chasing him endlessly, it was more effective to wait at the school bike shed.

Thanks to this, there were several instances where teachers hid in various spots like a spy drama, waiting to catch him red-handed.

After being caught multiple times, Qi Xiaochuan began parking his bike at the family compound of a nearby men’s health clinic.

That is, until he ran into the vice-principal there for treatment of erectile dysfunction. The two stood awkwardly in silence for a long time before Qi Xiaochuan finally hopped on his bike and muttered, “I’m going to be late for my part-time job,” and rode off.

After that incident, to avoid such dangerous encounters, he changed locations.

Parking his bike nearby still left him with some distance to walk.

Luo Andi had the driver stop the car, then got out and started walking.

Qi Xiaochuan walked ahead, his pace and stride far beyond Luo Andi’s capabilities.

She often struggled to keep up, eventually forced to jog to catch up.

The expression on his face clearly showed annoyance, and his behavior suggested he desperately wanted to shake her off. Yet, his peripheral vision kept encountering her shadow.

In the end, though he didn’t turn around, he inexplicably slowed his pace.

When Luo Chuishun returned home for vacation, he said, “I don’t understand. I really don’t understand.

What are you thinking?”

Luo Andi was preparing Christmas gifts for everyone. Friends and non-friends alike would receive the same gift, except for Qi Xiaochuan, whose gift was different.

Qi Xiaochuan wouldn’t accept physical gifts—he had no interest in them—and refused hers unconditionally.

So Luo Andi decided to make gingerbread men.

She said, “What do you mean, ‘what am I thinking’?

Do you want to eat my failed attempts?”

“Even though he refuses only your gifts, are you still determined to give them?”

Luo Chuishun tasted one—it wasn’t bad or good. Based on his understanding of Qi Xiaochuan, he could even imagine Qi Xiaochuan earnestly asking, “If you want cookies, why not just go buy them at 7-Eleven?” “Are you sure he’ll eat them?”

Wearing her baking gloves, Luo Andi opened the oven with the help of the maid, distractedly answering with a smile, “Mm, as long as I pretend to be pitiful and say I worked hard making them, Xiao Xiao won’t refuse.”

It was probably an illusion, but Luo Chuishun felt as though he saw something sinister behind his sister’s cheerful demeanor.

But after suppressing her mischievous tendencies for so long, it wasn’t surprising that she’d want to act out toward a specific person.

He considered it a sign of pent-up frustration, comforting himself internally and preemptively deciding on Qi Xiaochuan’s fate as her pitiable pet.

If she liked it, what harm could it do?

After all, she definitely had no awareness of causing trouble.

Luo Chuishun casually replied, “Well, alright.

Good luck.”

Luo Andi diligently made many versions.

The failed ones she ate herself or had the kitchen staff and gardener help finish.

Finally, satisfied with the result, she carefully packaged the gingerbread men in paper bags, placed them in a gift box, and prepared to give them to Qi Xiaochuan.

It was worth noting that she had planned this for a long time.

However, this year’s Christmas fell on a weekend, and parties unexpectedly became popular at school. Luo Andi was in high demand, leaving her with no free time to give Qi Xiaochuan his gift.

In the end, she secretly slipped out on Christmas Eve.

The outdoor air was chilly, and Luo Andi wore a red woolen cloak, trudging through the snow like Little Red Riding Hood heading out to pick strawberries.

All around was silent; she hadn’t told any adults she was leaving.

Qi Xiaochuan’s parents were still at work, and the house was quiet. She tiptoed upstairs and cautiously pushed open the door.

The lights were off, signaling that the room’s occupant was already asleep.

Luo Andi held her breath and approached quietly, slowly sitting by his bedside.

He was the first person she had ever liked.

She was still a child, without complicated thoughts—she simply thought he was wonderful, truly wonderful, and wanted to look at him often and stay close to him.

Qi Xiaochuan opened his eyes and was startled to see her, but quickly regained his composure, calmly asking, “What are you doing here?”

Luo Andi cheerfully tucked in his blanket and placed the gift down, saying, “I wanted to be Santa Claus and give you a present.”

Perhaps because he was half-asleep, Qi Xiaochuan acted unusually and didn’t refuse: “Couldn’t you have given it to me during the day?”

She felt a twinge of regret—perhaps she should have given something more meaningful.

But gingerbread men were fine too since she had put so much effort into baking them.

Not long before giving the gift, she had subtly probed him, asking, “Do you like cookies?” His response came quickly—this was one of Qi Xiaochuan’s good traits; he generally didn’t lie. After a moment’s thought, he replied, “I guess so.”

“Of course it’s not the same,” Luo Andi said. “I’m leaving now.”

Before parting, she added, “I want to hear your thoughts about the gift.”

By the end of that weekend, Luo Andi hadn’t heard anything from Qi Xiaochuan about the gift—no praise, no disdainful criticism.

On Monday, she listened to English lessons as usual in the back seat of the private car.

To her surprise, when she got out of the car, she found Qi Xiaochuan standing at the school gate—a rare sight for someone who usually valued every second of his time.

Luo Andi wondered whom he was waiting for, only to see Qi Xiaochuan approach her and hand her a bag full of gingerbread cookies, more intricately shaped than the ones she had made.

She took it, looking up at him in confusion, as he avoided her gaze, staring off somewhere else and saying indifferently, “Actually, you can add a bit of cinnamon for a richer taste.

You don’t have to use molds—freeze the shapes first, then cut them later for the same effect.

And meringue—you’ve never made chiffon cake?

Why did you suddenly decide to make cookies—”

Luo Andi felt he might have misunderstood something: “….”

“These are the ones I made. You can try them.”

Qi Xiaochuan finally looked at her, his expression still awkward and difficult to read, his face stiff as he said, “I’ll send you the tutorial later. Following my method will increase your success rate.”

Luo Andi couldn’t help but chuckle: “Xiao Xiao…”

Realizing he had been overly serious earlier, Qi Xiaochuan hesitated briefly before trying to adjust his tone.

“Keep it up.”

He solemnly patted her on the shoulder. “You can do it.”