Chapter 3
By the time we left the amusement park, happily exhausted, it was nearly eleven at night.
The classmates with curfews were already staring death in the face and had no choice but to say reluctant goodbyes.
That left me, Pei Zhaoyan, Jing Yan, Gu Xinlin, and the class president.
“Those brats are finally gone. Now it’s time for us adults!”
The class president swept out one hand. “Come on! Drinks are on me!”
The five of us took seats at a roadside barbecue stall.
Pei Zhaoyan stared at the milky-white liquid in his cup for two seconds.
“Class Prez, when you said drinks, you meant rice wine? Canned rice wine from the supermarket?”
She answered without a shred of shame, “Is rice wine wine or not?”
Then she handed me the menu. “Birthday girl gets to decide. I’ll eat anything, so order whatever you want.”
I actually loved spicy food.
Jing Yan couldn’t tolerate even a hint of spice. He also hated fried food and sesame.
I knew all of it.
When you loved someone too much, you remembered every last thing he liked and disliked.
When you wanted him to love you back, wanted him to see how good you were, you silently bent yourself around his needs.
Even if he never noticed, even if you got nothing equal in return, doing it still made you happy.
But now someone had told me that he wasn’t blind.
He was simply mute.
His heart was a pitch-black abyss. Even the brightest sun would go out if it fell inside.
The food I ordered soon arrived.
Fried rice cakes, starch sausages, grilled green peppers, chicken wings…
A layer of red chili dusted everything, its fragrance rushing straight into my nose.
At the sight of the tableful of red, chili-coated food, Jing Yan visibly froze.
His brows knotted tight.
He looked at me with heavy eyes, his lips pressed together.
Whenever I’d eaten with him in the past, I’d never ordered anything spicy.
He had probably always assumed my tastes were mild too, that I couldn’t handle spice any better than he could.
Only now, when I stopped going out of my way to accommodate him, did he belatedly feel the difference.
I grabbed a starch sausage, blew on it, and stuffed it into my mouth.
So spicy.
So good.
Jing Yan sat there without touching a single dish in front of him.
After a long while, he raised a hand.
“Boss, one bottle of ice-cold beer.”
“Whoa, our otherworldly top student has finally been dragged down from his pedestal?” the class president teased first. “What’s wrong? Broken heart? The person you like ignoring you?”
Jing Yan shot her a cold look. “Like this, love that—is romance all you ever think about? Aren’t you bored?”
“…”
The mood at the table froze. The class president ground her teeth, filing away the grudge.
Pei Zhaoyan coughed twice and tried to smooth things over. “How about Truth or Dare? If you don’t want to answer a truth or don’t dare do a dare, you drink a cup as a forfeit. Whoever has the most left in their cup at the end wins.”
As he spoke, he took a small gift box wrapped in black silk from his backpack.
“Ta-da! Mystery prize for the winner!”
I narrowed my eyes. “Wait. Is that my third and final present?”
“Yep.”
Pei Zhaoyan’s lips were red from the spice, and mischief brimmed in his dimples.
“But as the old saying goes, nobody treasures what comes too easily. Things taste best when you steal them—just like someone else’s chips are always better.”
“So put in some effort, birthday girl.”