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Originally, the plan was to drop Jiang Xu and Wen Siyu off at the hotel first, then have Zhou Yi and assistant Chen Shuanglin go to the supermarket to buy ingredients. However, as they neared the hotel, Jiang Xu suddenly suggested, “Why don’t we all go to the supermarket together?”
Zhou Yi nearly jumped out of his skin: “My lord, I beg you—please, no. If you come with us, we’ll never get out of that supermarket today.”
Jiang Xu turned around and pulled a baseball cap from the backseat, followed by a stack of masks. He slipped one on, leaving only his deep brown eyes visible. Then he tugged the cap low over his forehead, casting his eyes into shadow.
Zhou Yi: “…Do you really think this will stop people from recognizing you?”
“Relax,” Jiang Xu reassured him. “There’s a film studio nearby—celebrities are nothing unusual here.”
Zhou Yi had no choice but to relent, and neither did anyone else. So, the four of them drove to the nearest supermarket. Once parked, Jiang Xu confidently hopped out of the car and strode inside, while Zhou Yi and the others trailed behind, looking furtive and guilty.
Assistant Xiao Chen stayed in the car, while Wen Siyu glanced at Zhou Yi—the only person who didn’t seem tense—and bravely stepped forward. Short legs pumping, she scurried ahead of Jiang Xu, attempting to shield him like a mother hen protecting her chicks. She cautiously scanned their surroundings.
Even counting her hair, the girl barely reached his chin. Jiang Xu’s head loomed above her, and he lowered his gaze to look at the whorl of hair on top of her head.
“Miss Wen.”
“Hmm?” Wen Siyu glanced left and right, alert, before turning back to him.
The brim of his cap tilted up slightly, revealing his handsome eyes and sharply defined nose bridge. Wen Siyu tiptoed and reached up to push the brim back down.
The muscles beneath Jiang Xu’s mask tensed slightly.
After withdrawing her hand, the girl took two steps back, eyeing his face—now almost entirely obscured by the mask and cap—and nodded approvingly: “Teacher Jiang, just stay like this. I saw a few people staring earlier!”
Jiang Xu: “….”
“Alright,” he nodded, tilting his head up childishly to peer through the gap under the brim. His tone was flat: “But like this, I can’t see where I’m going.”
Wen Siyu: “….”
Beside them, Zhou Yi—who was pushing the shopping cart and watching the scene unfold—nearly grinned ear to ear: “Put on some sunglasses, and I’ll get you a cane. You can pretend you’re actually blind.”
A sharp glare shot from beneath Jiang Xu’s cap, and Zhou Yi hastily swallowed his laughter.
Wen Siyu couldn’t cook—she practically needed a ladder just to crack an egg. As for Jiang Xu’s culinary skills, Zhou Yi described them as “a disaster of hellish proportions.” Thus, the task of selecting ingredients fell entirely to Chef Zhou.
The man in the baseball cap and mask strolled around with long strides, curiously picking things up here and there, as if it were his first time in a supermarket. Behind him trailed a little girl, hopping nervously and glancing around suspiciously.
Zhou Yi: “….”
He really wanted to pretend he didn’t know them.
Rolling his eyes, Zhou Yi looked straight ahead—only to find a white mask hovering in front of him. Jiang Xu held up a large winter melon: “Zhou Yi, I want pumpkin soup.”
Wen Siyu’s small head popped over too: “Teacher Jiang, it’s best with pork ribs.”
Jiang Xu nodded: “Alright, then let’s have pumpkin rib soup.”
Zhou Yi: “…What you’re holding is a winter melon.”
The white-masked head leaned closer: “This one? The translucent one—I know what it looks like.”
—Meaning: Don’t try to fool me.
“This is fucking called a winter melon,” Zhou Yi gritted his teeth. “Move your head back—are you trying to kiss me?”
Jiang Xu stepped back and repeated in his emotionless voice: “I want winter melon rib soup.”
Zhou Yi: “….”
Two aisles later, the man returned, holding something green: “Zhou Yi, what’s this vegetable?”
Zhou Yi scrutinized it: “Kailan. Good for calcium, helps you grow taller.”
The little tagalong extended her arm, measuring the height difference between herself and Zhou Yi, then hesitated before saying reluctantly: “Teacher Jiang, maybe you shouldn’t grow anymore…”
Zhou Yi: “???”
Jiang Xu glanced at her and tossed the vegetable into the cart: “We’ll stir-fry it.”
Zhou Yi: “….”
After passing through the produce section, they arrived at the refrigerated shelves. The girl dashed over, picked up something blue, and ran back excitedly, presenting it like treasure: “Teacher Jiang, this is super delicious!”
Jiang Xu accepted it and looked down: Goubful (Guibful) Cheese Sticks, tasty and fun.
Jiang Xu: “….”
He tossed the cheese sticks into the cart and looked up: “Are there other flavors?”
Thrilled by her successful recommendation, the girl led him to the refrigerated shelf: “There’s strawberry flavor too—it’s also really good!”
“Alright.” Jiang Xu nodded and grabbed two more bags of strawberry-flavored ones, tossing them into the cart: “Let’s buy more.”
Zhou Yi: “….”
Did you two come to the supermarket just to feed me dog food and make me do manual labor??
When they returned to the car, Xiao Chen had already played several rounds of games. Just as he finished another round, he looked up to see Zhou Yi walking over, pale-faced and carrying two bags. Behind him, Jiang Xu was chatting with the little girl.
Xiao Chen peeked behind Jiang Xu again, relieved to see no mob of fans swarming toward them.
With a swift motion, Zhou Yi opened the car door, dumped the bags onto the backseat, and climbed into the front seat, grumbling: “Drive, drive. Leave these mentally handicapped children behind to run home.”
Wen Siyu, halfway into the car, heard this and whispered back to the man behind her: “Zhou Yi seems unhappy. Did you upset him, Teacher Jiang?”
Before they could sit down, the girl twisted around awkwardly. Jiang Xu raised his hand to cushion her head against the roof: “Lower your head, sit properly—you planning to stand up in the car?”
Obediently murmuring an “Okay,” Wen Siyu settled into her seat. Jiang Xu sat beside her, removing his cap and mask and casually pulling over one of the bags.
After their supermarket trip, the girl had shed most of her initial awkwardness and now felt much more relaxed. She rested her chin in her hands, watching him rummage through the bag.
“Teacher Jiang?”
“Hmm?” Jiang Xu hummed without looking up.
“Why did you decide to take on Never Look Back ?” Wen Siyu asked curiously.
Truthfully speaking, Never Look Back wasn’t a big-budget movie. Director Li Hengyi was relatively young, having directed two decent films that earned him minor fame—but nothing extraordinary.
Unlike TV dramas, Jiang Xu had been extremely selective with his film roles. From his debut with director Xu Qiubai to later works like Flame and June Awakening —one an action thriller, the other an art film—they were all major productions helmed by renowned directors, meticulously planned and executed.
Compared to those, Never Look Back paled slightly.
“Because I’ve never played this type of character before—I wanted to give it a try,” Jiang Xu replied lightly. He pulled out two packs of cheese sticks—one pink, one blue—and held them up to the girl: “Which one?”
“Strawberry.”
He tossed her the pink pack and opened the plain one for himself, tearing off the wrapper.
The blue plastic stick held soft, white cheese shaped like a lollipop. Jiang Xu hesitated briefly before cautiously bringing it to his lips and taking a bite.
Sweet, soft, smooth, and creamy, the cheese melted instantly on his tongue. Surprisingly, it was quite tasty.
He looked up to meet Wen Siyu’s expectant gaze.
Jiang Xu: “…It’s not bad.”
Thrilled by her successful recommendation, the girl happily handed him her bag: “The strawberry one is good too!”
By the time they arrived at the hotel, Zhou Yi turned around to see two empty bags of cheese and piles of pink and blue wrappers scattered around the two of them.
“….”
Zhou Yi, exhausted and exasperated, sighed: “Forget dinner—I feel like I’m raising a pair of kids.”
“No way,” Jiang Xu said, jumping out of the car with a deadpan expression. “I’m drinking winter melon rib soup.”
Wen Siyu poked her head out of the car door: “Teacher Jiang, adding seaweed makes the soup even tastier.”
“Alright, then we’ll have winter melon rib seaweed soup.”
Zhou Yi: “….”
…
Jiang Xu’s room was on the 23rd floor—a presidential suite. To put it simply, it was about five or six times the size of Wen Siyu’s current standard room, complete with a living room, kitchen, bedroom, and balcony.
Trying not to be too obvious, she quickly scanned the area while sitting on the sofa. When her gaze returned, Jiang Xu was approaching with a glass of water, which he placed on the coffee table in front of her: “How’s the room?”
Feeling a bit guilty, as if caught red-handed, Wen Siyu forced a serious expression: “It’s missing a swimming pool.”
“That’s a valid point,” Jiang Xu responded solemnly. “Tomorrow, I’ll have Zhou Yi dig one out on the balcony.”
Amused, the girl continued: “Make it a Japanese hot spring style.”
The man nodded: “Then draft me a design plan. I’m going to change clothes.” With that, he turned and walked toward the bedroom.
Sitting primly on the sofa, the girl sipped from her glass twice before placing it on the table. She pulled out her phone and sent a WeChat message to Gu Yao.
[Siling: I’m in Jiang Xu’s room now, Room 2304.]
[Cold Person: ….]
[Siling: And I’m about to see him in pajamas.]
[Cold Person: ???]
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