The Creatures That We Are

Chapter 418: Boyfriend

“Sure.” Gao Yang was feeling too lazy to stand up.

Through the gaps between the screens, he saw Qing Ling’s tall, slim, and beautiful figure walking through the main hall hazy with steam, attracting glances from other male patrons left and right.

Gao Yang’s thoughts strayed.

Given his current savings, it would be easy for him to exchange one jinwu for cash to support his family.

Ever since his grandmother passed away, and he fell unconscious for three months, his family had been having a hard time making ends meet. His sister had lost weight, and his mother had become sickly. Even his wheelchaired father had been looking for jobs, and he applied for a free training course for those with physical disabilities.

Still, it would be too suspicious for him to give his family a large sum at once.

He should give them some every month and told them that he earned the money from part time jobs.

Soon, Qing Ling returned with two dipping bowls in each hand, her fingers splayed for support like she was putting on a show.

When she placed the four dipping bowls on the table, Gao Yang asked with a smile, “This many?”

“My sister and I like different flavors.” Qing Ling sat down and leaned in to look at the bubbling broths. “I don’t know what you like, so I make one each.”

Whoa, she’s being so thoughtful.

Gao Yang looked at the two dipping bowls before him.

The dipping sauce on the left was more spicy and sour, mixing chili oil, chili powder, bird’s eye chili, cilantro, spring onion, and aged vinegar.

The one on the right was sweet and spicy, mixing chili oil, sesame paste, soy sauce, sesame oil, minced spring onion, and garlic.

“Let me guess,” Gao Yang said. “The one on the left is done by you, and the one on the right is done by your sister.”

With the shared chopsticks, Qing Ling first dropped the corn, which would take longer to cook, into the clear broth, nodding. “Yeah.”

Then she suddenly looked up at Gao Yang. “Which do you like?”

Huh, is this a trick question?

Gao Yang played nonchalance as best he could. “I like both. I’m not picky.”

“Hm.” Qing Ling looked back down and started putting the other ingredients into the pot, her expression unreadable.

They both started enjoying the hot pot.

Qing Ling was very particular when eating, putting her sole focus on the meal and saying almost nothing.

Gao Yang quietly savored the food too. To avoid favoritism, he alternated between the two dipping sauces.

The broths boiled gently while steam rose, filling the air with the aroma of fresh food. From behind the wooden screen came the laughter and chatters of the other customers. Sitting on the balcony, the table was visited by the occasional lonesome breeze of an autumn’s night.

Everything seemed just right.

If only I were a simple college student.

Gao Yang grew sentimental, but only for a moment.

When he looked up again, the girl before her had swapped out the sour and spicy sauce for the sweet and spicy one. With the shared chopsticks, she put the shrimp balls into the pot.

One by one, the shrimp balls plopped into the clear broth. A drop splattered on the back of her hand.

“Agh.”

She flinched.

Gao Yang smiled. It was the sister’s turn.

“I’ll do it.” Gao Yang stood up and took the plate of shrimp balls from her. “You should eat.”

“Right.” Little Qing Ling accepted the help and nibbled on a piece of cooked corn with her head lowered, looking a little more reserved and quiet.

Soon, the shrimp balls floated to the surface of the broth, having turned milk white.

Gao Yang picked up a few with the slotted spoon and put them in Little Qing Ling’s bowl. “Here. They’re done.”

Then he thought of something and picked up a few more, dropping them into the dipping bowl with sour and spicy sauce. Those were for Qing Ling.

“Thank you,” Little Qing Ling said politely.

“You’re welcome.”

“You should eat too,” Little Qing Ling said. “I’m buying. You ordered too much for me to finish on my own.”

“Sure.” Gao Yang sat back down. After some hesitation, he said with a smile, “Qing Ling, pretend I never said anything if I’m wrong.”

“Huh?” Little Qing Ling looked up, her gaze a little nervous.

“It feels like you’ve...become more gentle.” Gao Yang was simply curious. Did something happen?

Little Qing Ling paused, her face flushed red as she shot him a glare. “Watch your mouth!”

“I’m sorry.” Gao Yang lowered his head and hurriedly went back to eating.

“Ha, men are all pigs. You take a mile when you’re given an inch.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry.” Survival instinct forced Gao Yang to lower his head further. His face was almost buried in his bowl.

Little Qing Ling was in a good mood this evening, so she wasn’t actually mad. They started chatting.

Little Qing Ling had much more to say than her sister, and she actually wanted to say them. Since she was in charge of the mundane side of Qing Ling’s life, she mostly talked about the everyday matters.

Such as how difficult and monotonous sprint training was, her concern with having to reject people every few days—she wasn’t boasting, definitely not—and also her conflicts with her roommates—due to her multiple personalities, her roommates considered her somewhat of a freak.

Qing Ling sighed softly, holding the chopsticks with one hand while propping her head with her other hand, staring at the steaming hot pot. “Why don’t I get a boyfriend? I’ve had enough of boys chasing after me.”

Eating a piece of thousand layer tofu, Gao Yang looked at her with surprise. “For real?”

“Of course.” Qing LIng frowned when she noticed the smile on his face. “What are you laughing at? What’s so funny about that?”

“It’s just that...” Gao Yang waved a hand and explained, “Do you know that back in high school, there was a widespread rumor that you were...into girls?”

“I’m not into girls,” Qing Ling said seriously. “I just hate men.”

“Why?”

Little Qing Ling lowered her head, moving the chopsticks around in the dipping bowl. She seemed to be debating if she should tell him.

“You don’t have to say anything.” Gao Yang didn’t intend to press her.

Little Qing Ling said in a distant voice, “It’s fine. I can tell you.”