I Fell In Love With My Rival (GL) - Chapter 19

The shrimp dumplings in the delivery container were still warm when Fu Erqiu handed the box to Su Chunyin. But she didn’t leave. Instead, she looked past Su Chunyin and asked, “Where should I put the quilt?”

Snapping out of her daze, Su Chunyin suddenly grabbed Fu Erqiu’s hand and yanked her toward herself—causing the tall girl in a yellow raincoat to stumble forward. The bicycle behind her wobbled violently before crashing to the ground with a thud, knocking the quilt strapped to the seat into the muddy road, staining its protective film with a dark, grimy color.

Now pulled under the umbrella, Fu Erqiu stood still while Su Chunyin raised the umbrella a little higher—then higher still—until it could fully shield her from the rain. She gazed at Fu Erqiu, her eyes shining brightly like glassy meteorites just washed clean by the rain. Her voice carried both joy and concern: “It’s raining this hard. Why are you here?”

Fu Erqiu said nothing.

Su Chunyin glanced over her raincoat with the kangaroo logo—plainly a delivery uniform—and then to the fallen bicycle, with a modified square-shaped thermal box attached to the back seat.

Everything became clear without needing words.

Su Chunyin frowned, her expression hardening as anger flared up. “Well, well. So, you didn’t want to be my tutor, but behind my back, you’re out doing this kind of work?”

Still, Fu Erqiu didn’t respond.

Su Chunyin grew even angrier. She tilted her head back slightly, her voice sharp with sarcasm. “What, you’re riding around delivering food on that beat-up bike of yours?”

Fu Erqiu looked at the rain and quietly stepped out from under the umbrella. She went to the bicycle, righted it, and secured it upright. Then she picked up the quilt and carefully brushed the mud from the plastic cover. Luckily, the film was durable and hadn’t torn from the fall—the quilt inside remained dry.

Watching her quietly tend to everything, Su Chunyin held her tongue and barely stopped herself from erupting. She pointed behind the Daoist temple and said, “Didn’t you ask where to put the quilt? This way, around back!”

Fu Erqiu entered the temple courtyard carrying the quilt. Su Chunyin’s room was right behind the main gate, but fueled by her irritation, she deliberately took a winding path. Fu Erqiu followed silently, not complaining once.

Su Chunyin had hoped Fu Erqiu would eventually speak up and ask for directions, but to her surprise, Fu Erqiu remained quiet. In the end, it was Su Chunyin who grew tired first.

As they passed a fork in the road, Su Chunyin glanced back and saw beads of sweat mixing with rainwater on Fu Erqiu’s brow. Her heart softened instantly. That was always the way with Fu Erqiu—Su Chunyin got mad at her so easily, sometimes so furious she felt she might burst. And yet just as easily, she softened. Like now.

Su Chunyin kept a stern face but finally turned around. “You’ve been holding that quilt for ages. Give it here, I’ll take it.”

To her surprise, Fu Erqiu stepped back and shook her head.

“You—” Su Chunyin was about to get angry again, but Fu Erqiu pointed to the grime on the film. “It’s dirty.”

Su Chunyin’s irritation dissipated once more. She mumbled, “We’re going to sleep under it anyway. What’s a little dirt?”

Fu Erqiu shook her head seriously. “Only the outer film is dirty. I touched the bike earlier, so my hands are already messy. You’re different.”

Different?

Su Chunyin looked at Fu Erqiu, then at herself. Sure enough, Fu Erqiu’s yellow raincoat was stained with splashes of mud. Her shoes were soaked, her hands smudged with dark streaks. Meanwhile, Su Chunyin was still clean—though she wore two layers of short sleeves that looked ridiculous, not a single spot on her was wet or dirty.

That same warm softness rose in her again. She shifted the umbrella toward Fu Erqiu and gently tugged her in a new direction. “I just remembered—this path is shorter. Come on.”

When they finally reached Su Chunyin’s room, she fetched a dry towel for Fu Erqiu to dry her hair, and found a pair of slippers. “Take off your raincoat and shoes first. You’ll get sick if you stay in them.”

Fu Erqiu dried her hair but didn’t take the slippers. She looked at her feet. “Let me make your bed first.”

She moved with practiced efficiency—clearly someone used to chores. In a few smooth steps, she spread the old quilt as padding over the bamboo mat, used the duvet cover as a sheet, then laid the fluffy quilt on top as the blanket.

Once the bed was made, Su Chunyin rolled around a few times and sighed in comfort. The bed now was worlds apart from before—not scratchy anymore, but soft and cozy, inviting her to sleep.

Stripping off the two ridiculous T-shirts she’d worn, she buried herself under the quilt, wriggling contentedly.

Meanwhile, Fu Erqiu was still smoothing the corners of the bed. Su Chunyin sat up, wrapped in the quilt, and started chatting.

She poked Fu Erqiu’s arm with her toe. Her fair foot was mostly wrapped in the blanket, only the tip of her toe peeking out like a scallion, playfully nudging at Fu Erqiu’s raincoat. “Hey, when did you start working as a delivery rider?”

Fu Erqiu kept smoothing the sheets as she answered, “The day before yesterday.”

That was just after Su Chunyin had asked her to be her tutor. Su Chunyin pouted. “And you deliver on what, that old bicycle?”

She’d expected Fu Erqiu to deny it. But to her surprise, Fu Erqiu nodded.

Su Chunyin was taken aback. “Seriously? Meituan lets people deliver food on bicycles?”

Fu Erqiu explained patiently, “Not for standard deliveries.”

Not for standard ones? So, she was taking irregular orders?

Su Chunyin thought back to the shrimp dumplings she ordered—it had been one of those “pay extra and someone might pick it up” long-distance errands.

She perked up. “So, you only take the orders others don’t want? Those far-away deliveries?”

Fu Erqiu nodded again. “Most riders don’t want those. They usually get passed to long-distance runners. The pay’s a little higher, and if you ride fast, you can make the trip.”

Su Chunyin frowned. Long-distance orders might pay more, but how much more could they really pay? If they were worth it, regular riders would’ve snapped them up. Clearly, Fu Erqiu didn’t own a motorbike and could only accept these time-consuming, exhausting jobs.

She muttered, “You could’ve just tutored me. It’s not like I wouldn’t pay you. And you’d be dry and warm every day, working on a fixed schedule at my house. Isn’t that better?”

Fu Erqiu didn’t reply. She finished straightening the last corner of the bed and looked at Su Chunyin. “If you’re sleepy, go ahead and rest. The mountain air’s cool—remember to keep the quilt on.”

Su Chunyin instantly understood what she meant. She sat up. “You’re leaving?”

Fu Erqiu nodded helplessly. “I’ve made the delivery. I should go.”

Su Chunyin glanced at the slippers she’d prepared, still untouched. She jumped out of bed and grabbed her arm. “You’re not allowed to leave!”

Fu Erqiu stopped. But Su Chunyin hadn’t yet figured out how to make her stay. Just then, an awkward growl echoed.

Su Chunyin thought it was her own stomach and lowered her head—only to realize halfway through that it wasn’t her. Inspiration struck. “Have you had dinner yet? I ordered a huge portion of shrimp dumplings. If you don’t help me finish, they’ll go to waste.”

Su Chunyin grabbed her forcefully. “Stop right there! Do you know how much these shrimp dumplings cost? Eighty-eight yuan a serving at Dexi Pavilion—that’s eight yuan more than the bouquet you sold the other day! If you don’t stay and eat with me, I swear I’ll throw them out right now!”

Eighty-eight-yuan shrimp dumplings were indeed a strong deterrent. Fu Erqiu halted mid-step, looking at her disapprovingly. “Expensive or not, food shouldn’t be wasted.”

“Yes, yes,” Su Chunyin quickly pulled her back a little more, noticing her hesitation. “Of course I’m not someone who wastes food. As long as my dear Qiuqui eats with me, I won’t waste a single bite.”

Fu Erqiu fell silent, then after a long pause, sighed softly. “I haven’t eaten.”

“What?” Su Chunyin blinked, taking a second to realize Fu Erqiu was answering her earlier question. Her eyebrows shot up. “Knew it! I knew you hadn’t eaten. If I hadn’t asked, when were you planning to eat dinner? Midnight? Two in the morning?”

Fu Erqiu avoided her barrage of questions and opened the plastic bag. Though the shrimp dumpling container looked large, the actual portion inside was rather small. Fortunately, Dexi Pavilion was running an anniversary promotion and had included a bunch of complimentary snacks. Rows of small boxes filled the plastic bag—just enough for two people to quiet their stomachs.

In the private room, there was a desk about waist-high. Fu Erqiu placed the shrimp dumplings and snacks on it, then unwrapped a pair of disposable chopsticks and handed them to Su Chunyin. “While it’s still warm, eat up.”

The dumplings had been delivered over an hour ago, and though still slightly warm, they were nearing lukewarm. Su Chunyin didn’t stand on ceremony. She opened the lid, took the chopsticks, and popped one into her mouth.

The shrimp dumplings were translucent and beautiful, and the moment she bit into one, a burst of fresh, savory flavor filled her mouth. Su Chunyin closed her eyes in bliss, her fingers curling with delight. Only after swallowing did she remember she had only requested one set of chopsticks—now she was enjoying the food while Fu Erqiu sat there, doing nothing after being dragged in.

The two were sitting side by side at the desk, close together. Su Chunyin nudged Fu Erqiu with her shoulder. “Hey, I only asked for one pair of chopsticks. What should we do?”

She bit the tip of the chopsticks, eyes fixed on Fu Erqiu. If she dares say she’s not eating, I’ll make sure Meituan fires her from that delivery gig tomorrow and force her to be my tutor instead.

Fu Erqiu gave her a look. “You go ahead. I’ll use your chopsticks after you’re done.”

My chopsticks? Su Chunyin’s mind raced with all sorts of improper thoughts. Wouldn’t that be like sharing saliva? An indirect kiss?

She was about to gleefully agree when Fu Erqiu added, “I’ll just break off the bottom part and use the other end.”

Su Chunyin deflated like a popped balloon. She jabbed her chopsticks at the plastic container in frustration, skewering another dumpling.

Her eyes lit up with mischief. She grinned and called out, “Fu Erqiu, open wide!”

Fu Erqiu didn’t quite catch what she said. As she turned her head slightly to ask, her lips parted—and before she could react, Su Chunyin swiftly shoved the shrimp dumpling into her mouth.

By the time she began chewing and tasted the juicy shrimp inside, Fu Erqiu realized what had happened. Her brows furrowed. “I told you, I’ll eat after you—”

But Su Chunyin immediately launched into her ‘la la la, I can’t hear you’ defense. She covered one ear with her left hand while wielding the chopsticks with her right—one bite for herself, then another for Fu Erqiu.

Before Fu Erqiu could say another word, she was fed dumpling after dumpling. There weren’t many to begin with, and soon, the two had finished them all. Su Chunyin moved on to the complimentary snacks, and this time, Fu Erqiu didn’t give her a chance to play tricks—she snapped the chopsticks in half and each used one half to finish the rest.

When they were done, a warm contentment settled over them. Su Chunyin, now drowsy and wobbly, still insisted on chatting. She complained about Fu Erqiu’s yellow raincoat, demanded she take it off, then scolded her for not wearing the slippers she brought, claiming it was disrespectful. In the end, she forced Fu Erqiu to change out of her soaked shoes.

By the time Fu Erqiu sensed something was wrong, it was already too late. Su Chunyin had a sly, triumphant smile on her face as she threw the blanket over them both and tackled her onto the bed.

She squirmed on top of Fu Erqiu before finally popping her head out from under the blanket. With her lower body straddling Fu Erqiu’s legs and her upper body braced on either side of Fu Erqiu’s shoulders, she stared at her with gleaming eyes. “The rain’s so heavy and it’s already late—why don’t you just stay the night and sleep with me?”

Fu Erqiu struggled to get the word out. “No.”

A flicker of disappointment crossed Su Chunyin’s face, but it quickly faded. “You’re worried Auntie will get anxious, right? No problem. I’ve got this.”

She hopped off the bed, grabbed her phone, and sat cross-legged, dialing a number. Unlike Fu Erqiu’s, Auntie Fu Ying’s number was easy—clearly printed on the laundromat’s sign. Su Chunyin had saved it her first day there.

The call connected quickly—Fu Ying was still awake.

Su Chunyin spoke sweetly, eyeing Fu Erqiu as she talked. “Auntie, Qiuqiu’s delivering food near Qingchan Temple. It’s so late and the rain’s really heavy—the mountain roads are slick. I happen to be nearby, so how about letting her crash here tonight?”

Fu Ying was easygoing. “Alright, just be careful, you two.”

This somehow annoyed Su Chunyin. “Auntie, aren’t you even a little worried that Qiuqiu won’t be home tonight?”

Fu Ying chuckled. “She’s done part-time work before and sometimes doesn’t come home. She knows how to take care of herself. I trust her.”

Wait a sec… Sure, she knows how to look after herself, but does that mean you don’t worry about her at all?

Out of respect for the elder, Su Chunyin didn’t voice her thoughts. Once she hung up, she pounced on Fu Erqiu again, swinging the phone charm in her hand. “You heard that? Auntie’s totally fine with you sleeping over~”

Their eyes met. They’d exchanged glances earlier during the call, but Fu Erqiu had mostly avoided looking at her directly. Now she didn’t dodge anymore. She stared at Su Chunyin and, after a long pause, said solemnly, “No. I have to go home.”

Su Chunyin stared at her, confirming she meant it, then rolled away with a huff. “Fine, whatever. Go.”

But as Fu Erqiu actually turned and walked out, Su Chunyin rolled back, eyes locked on her retreating figure.

At the doorway, Fu Erqiu hesitated. She turned back—and met Su Chunyin’s gaze head-on. The girl was mostly tangled in a mess of blankets, with only a sliver of skin exposed, marked with red from the bamboo mat. She wore nothing but a loose T-shirt, the neckline tugged down from her earlier movements, baring a stretch of bright skin and the flush of red against it.

Su Chunyin suddenly smiled and curled her finger at her. “Qiu-jie, I’ll give you one last chance. Once it’s gone, it’s gone. Come sleep with me, yeah?”

Fu Erqiu stood frozen in place. She wanted to move—but couldn’t.

She let out a silent sigh. Su Chunyin’s smile etched itself into her mind, and she realized… she might not be able to say “no” to her again.