YABE - 7

In the silent van, the man’s dark eyes gazed calmly at her as his low, cool voice asked, “Why exactly?”

Why exactly.

This question left Wen Siyu stumped.

It was akin to asking her, “There are so many kinds of fruit—why do you like strawberries the most?” A question with no clear-cut answer.

When Wen Siyu was seven years old, she saw Jiang Xu on TV for the first time.

Back then, he was still a youth—wearing a white shirt that was dirtied with mud. His face, too, was smeared with dust and grime, almost obscuring his natural skin tone. Yet his eyes stood out, shockingly bright.

His pupils, which should have been a deep brown, appeared lighter under the sunlight, like flawless amber.

Those pure, untainted eyes held a courage to fight against fate, a vitality deeply rooted in the soil, and a stubborn yet resilient hope.

At just seven years old, little Wen Siyu thought this older boy was incredibly handsome. Even though he was dirty, not a single boy in her class—not even Xiao Zheng, who was always clean—was half as good-looking as him.

The tiny girl stood in the living room for a moment before putting down her schoolbag, hopping onto the couch, and obediently sitting with her grandfather to watch the entire movie.

Her grandfather was surprised. At such a young age, when most kids were playing with dolls or reading fairy tales, he had assumed she’d find the film boring and lose interest after a few minutes.

But to his astonishment, his little granddaughter not only watched it all the way through but also became deeply engrossed.

By the end of the movie, the little girl sobbed into his arms: “Grandpa, Brother Chu Han is so pitiful.”

Her grandfather patted her back gently, consoling her: “What makes you think Brother Chu Han is pitiful?”

Little Wen Siyu’s nose was red from crying, and she sniffled as she lifted her small head: “He’s so handsome—why does he have to die?”

Her grandfather: “….”

After that day, whenever she did arithmetic problems, images of the handsome young man filled her mind.

She expected to be distracted, but instead, her brain worked faster than ever. She finished an entire page of math in two-thirds of her usual time—and upon checking, found every answer correct.

That night, she dreamed. In her dream, her beloved Brother Chu Han was dressed as a prince, wearing a crown, standing on a pumpkin-turned-carriage. He said to her, “My family sells fruits. We own a vast strawberry field. Would you like to marry me?”

Little Wen Siyu joyfully nodded and followed him. She woke up skipping happily, only to realize there was no handsome older brother or strawberry field—it was all a lie.

And so, at the tender age of seven, Wen Siyu made a noble vow: when she grew up, she would marry someone who sold fruits.

Because fruit sellers always had strawberry fields.

At the time, she didn’t know her beloved Brother Chu Han was an actor, nor did she know his name was Jiang Xu.

She certainly never imagined that one day in the future, she’d sit in his car, being stared at by him while he asked, “Why do you like Eternal Life ?”

Wen Siyu furrowed her brows, pondering for a moment. Then, mimicking Jiang Xu’s posture, she rested her chin on her hand and looked at him. The delicate chain on her wrist caught his attention.

“Maybe it’s because it’s the movie that introduced me to you…”

He faintly heard her say.

Jiang Xu paused momentarily.

He had considered many possible answers—how in Eternal Life , he portrayed Chu Han’s mature resilience and youthful pursuit of dreams. These were phrases he had heard countless times.

But he hadn’t expected something so simple.

No flowery words, no grandiose reasoning—just the simplest truth. Because Eternal Life was how she came to know him, it became her favorite.

That was all.

Jiang Xu smiled. “What’s your name?”

He knew she was surnamed Wen but had never asked her full name.

“Wen Siyu…” His abrupt leap from one topic to another left her reeling, and she reflexively answered.

Siyu, Siyu.

The sound was similar, the hands were alike, and the chains on their wrists matched perfectly.

How much more obvious could it get?

Little girl, don’t you realize you’ve already been exposed?

The man nodded, covering his mouth thoughtfully for a moment. Then, turning to her, he asked casually, “Are you hungry?”

Wen Siyu blinked, stunned again. What is this idol doing, jumping around topics without any rhyme or reason?

Jiang Xu glanced at his watch theatrically. “It’s about time. What are you having for dinner?”

Deciding what to eat was always a challenge. Her face fell as she struggled to come up with an answer: “…Let’s order takeout.”

Jiang Xu frowned. “Takeout is neither tasty nor clean. It’s better to eat less of it.”

Suddenly concerned about her well-being, Wen Siyu was utterly baffled. Just as she opened her mouth to respond, the man beside her casually added:

“You might as well come to my room.”

“…?????????” Wen Siyu’s eyes nearly popped out of her head.

In the front seat, Zhou Yi’s water bottle slipped from his hand, spilling water all over the windshield: “?????????”

The assistant sighed deeply, thinking, This Mr. Jiang sure plays it straight…

Ignoring the wide-eyed girl and Zhou Yi’s spluttering, the man continued calmly, “My room is a suite with a small kitchen. Coincidentally, Zhou Yi will be cooking, so you can join us for dinner.”

Wen Siyu: “….”

She felt deeply ashamed of her earlier impure thoughts.

But what was her idol doing??

Was Jiang Xu inviting her to dinner?!

Jiang Xu wanted her to eat dinner with him!!

Wasn’t this essentially a date?!

Shouldn’t she refuse?

It felt inappropriate…

But she didn’t want to refuse!

Where was it inappropriate??

I want to go on a date with my idol—why should I refuse??

To refuse or not to refuse??

Having dinner with her idol—oh no, her stomach was cramping already.

Would she get so nervous halfway through that she’d throw up on the table…

—Within seconds, Wen Siyu’s mind raced through ten thousand possibilities, but before she could voice her objections, someone beat her to it.

Zhou Yi tightened the cap on his water bottle, turned around, and expressed his strong disapproval: “You’re hitting on girls while making me cook? You’re torturing me right after I got back, Jiang Xu—are you even human?”

Jiang Xu readily agreed: “Oh, fine. Then I’ll make you a supersized, explosively spicy fried rice dish. You must finish every bite.”

Zhou Yi: “….”

“I’ll cook,” he said after a pause, smiling cheerfully. “Cooking is such a satisfying and enjoyable activity. I love cooking.”

Wen Siyu: “….”