Chapter 14

Take fourteen bites.
“What’s going on?” Chen Zijian asked, unable to resist. “You two having a fight?”
From the moment they’d walked in, neither of them had acknowledged the other. Curiosity got the better of him, so he asked.
Ying Tao flicked a glance at the man sitting beside her.
His posture was relaxed, yet still mannerly. Loose, messy bangs hung lazily over his forehead. The hand resting on the table—its knuckles lean—moved with practiced ease.
When he tore open the plastic wrap around the bowl and chopsticks, the tendons on the back of his hand stood out clearly. With the bone of his finger pressing against the porcelain-white side plate, he rinsed everything carefully with hot water.
Ying Tao swallowed her irritation and answered, “No.”
“Really no?” Chen Zijian looked them over. “If he’s bullying you, just tell me. Uncle Chen will teach him a lesson for you.”
Ying Tao almost got tempted—
But she quickly killed the thought. She shook her head and said dully, “Forget it.”
She couldn’t be bothered fighting with him.
When the dishes finally came up and she spotted her favorite sweet-and-sour ribs, she was just about to grab a couple pieces—
When the lazy Susan started turning.
She watched helplessly as her favorite ribs got spun right in front of He Mingye.
And the culprit? He Mingye himself—his fingers braced against the edge of the turntable as he calmly took the crispiest rib, the one she liked most.
Ying Tao glared so hard she could’ve shot fire from her eyes. She huffed, lowered her head, and stabbed her rice with chopsticks.
But the next second, the turntable began to move again.
She lifted her head, following the smell—
And a bowl of thick, rich dried-scallop pork-rib congee stopped in front of her.
Ying Tao looked up suspiciously, only to see He Mingye glance at her once, expression flat, saying nothing.
She froze.
Suddenly, she remembered when they’d fought really badly as kids.
He Mingye had cut her bangs crooked and ruined them. She’d been laughed at by her classmates.
She’d been truly furious. She’d gone home and bawled, then announced on the spot that she was unilaterally “breaking off ties” with him.
But at that time, He Mingye was already preparing to go abroad for school.
It was only because university started later—and during her military training period, he still happened to be home on break.
She made up her mind to draw a clear line between them.
Not only did she move back to her own house overnight, even when they ran into each other outside, she acted like she didn’t see him. Chin high, arrogant, she walked past without even turning her head.
That cold war lasted an entire summer.
When He Mingye was about to leave for school, on the day of his flight, Zhou Lubai came to her house.
“Little Taozi, Young Master’s flight is today. You’re really not going to see him off?”
Ying Tao stuffed a pillow over her ears, hiding her whole body under the blanket, and said stubbornly, “Not going, not going. I’m not going.”
Zhou Lubai went, “Oh.” Then, “Alright. Then I’ll go with Shen Fox first.”
The compound settled into quiet again.
Summer wind drifted gently. Only a ground full of cut-up gold foil remained.
Ying Tao finally let go of the pillow over her ears and stared, hollowly, at the big banyan tree in the courtyard.
Branches swayed; shadows danced.
That summer, Ying Zhaohui officially registered his marriage with Tang Mingfei’s mother.
Tang Mingfei also entered the affiliated high school as an arts-specialty student, moving into Ying Tao’s home for real.
Zhou Lubai and the others had already graduated from the affiliated school. Her brother went to the National Defense University.
He Mingye went abroad.
And only she remained.
Only her.
Ying Tao listened to Tang Mingfei practicing vocals outside.
The scene was familiar, yet everything had changed.
“Standing in the hallway for punishment, getting our palms smacked,
yet we only watched the dragonfly by the window.
Wherever I went, you followed close behind,
so many dreams waiting to begin.”①
Everyone was moving forward.
Only she was left behind, guarding the same spot.
All at once, Ying Tao felt unbearably sad.
Xiao Hei seemed to sense it. He crawled out of his little bed and came to lick her hand.
Ying Tao sat up, hugged him, and said gloomily, “You stinky little dog. I’m never talking to you again.”
“Really not talking to me anymore?”
The window was open. Summer wind poured in, lifting the sheer curtain.
The boy leaned against the green-painted window ledge. Light was faint and soft, spilling across the corners of his eyes and brows.
Those long phoenix eyes lifted slightly, and in their depth lay a thin wash of light and shadow.
Ying Tao’s nose stung instantly. Her eyes reddened, and before she could stop it, tears fell—plop, plop.
She sniffed and sobbed, “Y-You… didn’t you leave?”
He Mingye’s lips curled lazily. “I was afraid if I left, someone would miss me.”
“Don’t be so full of yourself. I won’t miss you.”
“Hm?” he laughed softly, lazy as ever. “Did I say I meant you?”
“…”
Ying Tao got angry again.
“Fine.” The boy’s features looked unusually gentle in the light. “It’s your big brother who can’t bear to leave you.”
“Can’t bear to see our Princess Tao-tao sad. Okay?”
“Then—”
“Will our Princess Tao-tao forgive big brother now?”
“For Snoopy’s sake.”
In his hand was a Snoopy plush.
He was a dog to begin with—standing with Snoopy was basically a realistic portrait.
Ying Tao couldn’t help laughing out loud—crying and laughing at the same time.
She wiped her tears, took the plush, and said in a muffled, stubborn voice, “For Snoopy’s sake, I’ll reluctantly accept your apology.”
…
Every time, it was like this.
He made her mad, then used the same trick.
Did he really think she was still fifteen or sixteen—easy to fool?
Give her a tiny sweet, and he wanted her forgiveness?
Not that easy.
Ying Tao stirred her spoon absentmindedly.
The dried-scallop pork-rib congee was thick. Even the ribs had been stewed until they fell apart, melting on the tongue.
She bit her spoon and thought: fine. For the sake of how good the congee is, she’d give him a step down. Just this once.
Ying Tao lowered her lashes and drank quietly, listening to Chen Zijian ramble about random things and ask about He Mingye’s recent situation.
Chen Zijian said, “Recently there’s a show inviting me to be a coaching mentor. Seems like it’s produced by a platform under your company.”
“It’s called… what was it… Supernova Sports Meet?”
“Have you heard of it?”
He Mingye answered blandly, “No.”
Ying Tao, however, felt it sounded familiar.
She remembered—this seemed to be the variety show Lu Ziyue was preparing.
She looked surprised. “Uncle Chen, you got invited too?”
“Yeah.” Chen Zijian realized. “You got invited too?”
He Mingye lifted his eyes, glancing at her without leaving a trace.
Ying Tao nodded. “Sort of. The person running the project is a senior I know. He invited me to join the show, but I haven’t decided whether to say yes.”
Chen Zijian didn’t understand. “Such a good opportunity—why are you still hesitating? Go train a bit. It’s great. I think you’re very suited for competition-type programs like that.”
Ying Tao hesitated. “I’ve been retired for a long time. Maybe…”
Chen Zijian cut her off. “From what I heard, aside from the coach team being professional, most of the participants are just young people with a bit of basic fitness training.”
“Everyone starts from zero and trains together. Joining the show shouldn’t be a problem.”
“You kids should try more while you’re young,” Chen Zijian said. “And even if we step back ten thousand steps—”
He laughed. “Uncle Chen’s there. What are you afraid of?”
Ying Tao thought for a moment, then finally smiled.
“That’s true. Uncle Chen, you coached my brother. If you’re my brother’s coach, then you’re my coach too.”
“You’ll protect your own athletes, right?”
“You little girl,” Chen Zijian laughed. “So that’s what you were waiting for.”
Ying Tao’s eyes curved. “Uncle Chen, this is called making reasonable use of resources.”
“You’re the one urging me to join. If I really listen and join, don’t you have to take on the responsibility of an elder?”
“Besides, with our relationship, we don’t need to say more.”
“When the time comes, you’ll definitely look after me, won’t you?”
Ying Tao twisted and turned her words until she really did rope Chen Zijian in.
“Don’t worry,” Chen Zijian agreed readily. “With Uncle Chen here, you won’t have to worry about anything.”
“Then—” Ying Tao smiled brightly and raised her cup. “Cheers. Happy cooperation.”
Chen Zijian laughed loudly. “Happy cooperation.”
…
He Mingye leaned back, relaxed against the chair, gaze landing on the girl’s bright smile.
A very faint smile flickered in his eyes.
She was good at making elders like her.
Whether it was his parents, or the Zhou family’s hardest-to-deal-with old madam—anyone who met her would soften a few degrees, pulling her close and chatting like family.
Now Zhou Chaoli had returned to Jingbei and taken a job at the General Hospital of the PLA.
It was hard to say there wasn’t the Zhou old madam’s hand behind it.
At their last short gathering, Zhou Lubai had also said:
“My old madam has no idea what’s gotten into her lately. She’s pushing marriage harder than ever.”
“My little uncle just got back and she’s already busy arranging blind dates again.”
“But pressuring him is useless. My little uncle doesn’t buy it at all.”
“All those well-bred society daughters she introduced—he refused to meet every single one.”
“The old madam’s so mad she’s about to go to the hospital and corner him.”
“But guess what?”
Shen Minglin raised a brow. “What?”
Zhou Lubai got interested and deliberately lowered his voice, sneaky. “My mom said my little uncle already has someone he likes.”
“He came back to Jingbei this time for her.”
“The old madam heard that and lost it—she’s been digging everywhere, trying to find out who he likes.”
“But…” Zhou Lubai gossiped, yet didn’t really believe it. He shrugged. “I think that so-called ‘beloved’ is something my little uncle made up just to fool the old madam.”
“Otherwise tell me—what girl could he like in Jingbei?”
“With how dull he is, aside from his ex-girlfriend, he’s barely even interacted with girls.”
“Sure, some girls chased him before, but nothing ever came of it.”
Hearing that, Shen Minglin smiled with meaning. “Maybe he regrets it.”
“So he wants to win her back.”
“Who says that just because you rejected her before, you can’t pursue her again?”
“Even after a breakup, there’s still a chance to get back together.”
“Not to mention—neither of them is married. Feelings… who can say?”
“Nearby water reaches the tower first.”
“Your little uncle might’ve figured that out, so he chose to return to Jingbei.”
…
Someone he likes?
He Mingye’s throat tightened as he swallowed. His gaze darkened, brows drawing together slightly. The hand at his side tensed involuntarily, fist tightening hard.
Then, all of a sudden, his knuckles brushed against something smooth.
That small hand.
Silently, it slipped close and brushed over the raised veins on the back of his hand—then quietly hooked his pinky.
In the noise of the world, he heard only the girl’s soft voice.
Gentle and sweet—like when they were little.
Her pinky swayed his lightly as she said, softly,
“He Little Dog… let’s make up.”