I'm Just Getting Your Luck - Chapter 8

A Matter Of Taste

Yingyu had promised to bring snacks for Long Qiuqiu today.

During her lunch break, she swung by the mall next door and bought a big variety — including the creamy pork floss rolls that Qiuqiu specifically wanted.

But even if Jiang Jiuji wasn’t home, she couldn’t just barge in. She’d still have to go through Zhou Chenyi to get a message to him.

Arms full of bags, Yingyu accidentally dropped her phone. As she scrambled to pick it up, she didn’t notice the person standing in front of her.

“Hey! Can’t you watch where you’re going?”

“I’m so sorry—” Yingyu froze mid-apology when she heard that voice. It sounded far too familiar.

She looked up. It was Cheng Lianhua.

Picking up her phone, Yingyu straightened and changed her tone: “Actually, I meant to bump into you.”

Cheng Lianhua recognized her too. “Yingyu?! I knew you did that on purpose!”

Yingyu stepped closer, voice calm but cutting. “That’s right. I don’t like you. I’ve had it with you. Why are you even here? Aren’t you still working at the Bureau of Demon Management?”

“Pfft. You make it sound like that’s some elite job. I can leave whenever I want.” Cheng Lianhua glanced at the company badge around Yingyu’s neck and sneered, “You? Still stuck in a corporate job after entering the human world? Guess what I’m doing now?”

Yingyu didn’t respond.

“A star! That’s what I am now.” Cheng Lianhua beamed. “Soon you’ll see my face on billboards everywhere. You’ll always be a step behind me, you broom star. Nobody wants you.”

With that, Cheng Lianhua got into a black business car and left.

Yingyu stormed back to the office, seething like a bull ready to charge. When she reached the elevator, she stabbed the button with enough force to break it.

“You’re going to punch through the panel,” came Zhou Chenyi’s voice as he appeared beside her. “What’s the emergency?”

“None of your business!” Her voice was sharper than usual, startling Xini standing behind them.

The little lamb got mad?

Zhou Chenyi was intrigued.

Yingyu hadn’t meant to lash out — but Cheng Lianhua had a way of digging up old wounds.

She’d always carried a streak of bad luck, and most of it somehow circled back to Cheng Lianhua. Despite being older, Yingyu had to defer to her constantly because of her purer bloodline.

As a child, when Cheng Lianhua lost her tuition money, she blamed Yingyu for stealing it. Yingyu was beaten and denied food for seven days.

As they grew up, anything Yingyu liked — jewelry, jobs, even hobbies — was fair game for Cheng Lianhua to take. The elders would always say, “She’s your little sister. You should give it to her.”

But Cheng Lianhua wasn’t her sister at all. Yingyu was the youngest.

The more Yingyu thought about it, the more bitter she felt. Even surrounded by people waiting for the elevator, her eyes turned red and tears welled up.

She wiped them quickly, but—

Rip.

The paper bag from the bakery couldn’t take the weight. Everything spilled: bread rolling across the floor, and the little strawberry cake she’d carefully picked out was smashed.

Yingyu couldn’t hold it together. She ran to the stairwell and burst into tears.

The heavy door slammed shut behind her.

Xini looked helplessly at the mess. “What just happened?”

“Have someone from cleaning take care of it. I’ll go check on her. You go ahead upstairs,” Zhou Chenyi said, frowning as he crouched to gather the fallen pastries.

She must be used to this sort of thing, but it still crushed her every time.

Tears soaked the cuffs of her sleeves.

Someone knocked on the stairwell door, turned the handle.

She didn’t need to look to know who it was.

“What are you doing in here?” she mumbled.

“Boss checks on crying employees so he doesn’t get accused of being cold and heartless,” Zhou Chenyi said casually, holding out tissues. “Want me to pick up the rest for you?”

She took them silently.

“For helping my nephew find his cat yesterday, I’ll repay the favor. Just tell me who upset you — I’ll deal with them.”

Yingyu sniffled, confused. “Why would you get involved? You don’t even know her. Why would you take it out on her?”

Zhou Chenyi had more to say, but Yingyu cut him off: “Just go. I want to be alone.”

Technically, his duty was done — he could leave.

But he stayed.

“You yell at me, then expect me to just walk away like that?”

“I wasn’t yelling. I was just… louder than usual.”

“Louder?” Zhou Chenyi looked at her solemnly. “That was verbal assault. I deserve compensation.”

He was being insufferable today. Yingyu turned away, not bothering to answer.

Zhou Chenyi rummaged through the bags. “If you don’t even like pork floss, why’d you buy so much of it?”

“How do you know I don’t?”

“You peeled all the meat off the muffins yesterday. It wasn’t hard to guess.”

“…Fine,” Yingyu admitted. “It’s not for me. It’s for Dr. Jiang.”

She was worried he’d eat alone, so she’d bought extras — one for him, one for Long Qiuqiu.

Zhou Chenyi frowned. “Didn’t I just tell you Jiang Jiuji isn’t a good guy? And you still went looking for him? Is that why you were crying earlier?”

“I’ll go to whoever I want,” Yingyu snapped, grabbing at the bag he was holding. “Give me that.”

“Nope.” Zhou Chenyi held it just out of reach and pressed her shoulder down to stop her jumping.

She glared up at him with red, teary eyes. From his angle, she looked like a feisty, furious bunny. He couldn’t help but laugh.

“You yelled at me. I deserve emotional reparations,” he said, mock-serious.

Yingyu huffed, defeated. “Fine, take one. But give me the rest.”

Before they knew it, half an hour passed. Lunch break was nearly over.

She sat beside him and saw he’d already eaten more than half the pastries.

“Didn’t you just have lunch?” she complained. “Isn’t that enough?”

“You upset I ate a few snacks?”

“You’ve had, like, twelve!”

“Oh, but if Jiang Jiuji ate them, you wouldn’t mind?”

That’s not the point! They weren’t for you — they were for Qiuqiu!

“Then eat them all! But don’t expect me to wait around!” Yingyu snapped, storming out.

“You’re not waiting for me?” Zhou Chenyi called after her.

“I’m going back to work — for you, Mr. Zhou!”

She left him alone, still chewing on bread.

—

That evening, Long Qiuqiu texted: Jiang Jiuji would be home and had given her his address.

There were official ways to find out where he lived, but who cared — Qiuqiu was too excited to wait.

After work, Yingyu went straight over and knocked on the door.

“Evening, Dr. Jiang. Long time no see! I’m here to visit your kitten. Hope it’s a good time?”

Jiang Jiuji opened the door, a faint smile on his lips. “Of course. Come in.”

He was unusually easygoing today. Yingyu stepped in and changed shoes, while Long Qiuqiu waited impatiently, sniffing her in circles, pretending they weren’t familiar.

Let’s go already!

Jiang Jiuji headed to the study to work on a student thesis. Qiuqiu led Yingyu to the bathroom, far from the study.

As soon as the door closed, Qiuqiu transformed into her human form. Yingyu squatted down, unpacking food like they were conducting a secret meeting.

“You only brought two pork floss rolls?” Qiuqiu devoured one in seconds and sipped yogurt before starting on the other.

“Slow down,” Yingyu said, patting her back, still annoyed. “I had more. Zhou Chenyi ate all of them!”

“Who?” Qiuqiu hadn’t met him. She tugged at a stray cat hair on Yingyu’s collar. “I smelled another cat on you. Who’s it from?”

“Xiaobai — from last night,” she explained. She’d showered and worn fresh clothes, so how was it still there?

Qiuqiu wasn’t worried. That cat didn’t even have spiritual awareness, let alone the ability to take human form.

And honestly, she was tired of eating cat food every day. Jiang Jiuji rarely stayed home — the fridge was always empty. Instant noodles were all she could find.

Yingyu handed her a small ice cream cake. “Here — this one’s new!”

They were enjoying themselves when suddenly — a knock on the bathroom door.

“You’ve been in there for thirty minutes. Planning to come out anytime soon?” Zhou Chenyi’s voice came from the other side.

Yingyu panicked. “I—I have a stomachache.”

“Jiang Jiuji has meds.”

“No need! Just step away!”

Can’t even be nice to him.

As he walked away, a glass broke inside the bathroom.

“What happened?” he asked, frowning.

“Nothing! Just broke a cup. Don’t come in!”

Qiuqiu changed back to a cat while Yingyu cleaned up what she could. There was still uneaten food she couldn’t hide.

She tiptoed out — only to bump straight into Zhou Chenyi, who was standing in the living room.

“Seriously?” he muttered. “You run into people on the street and in their living rooms too?”

Yingyu didn’t get a chance to reply. Zhou Chenyi stepped back dramatically. “Taking advantage of me again?”

He eyed the cake box in her hands. “You brought dessert into the bathroom?”

“I was… in a rush.”

“And the bread crumbs on your mouth?”

“Got hungry suddenly.”

“Stomachache… and you ate ice cream?”

“…Painfully delicious.”

“…Eating in the bathroom,” Zhou Chenyi muttered. “Classy.”

Meanwhile, Jiang Jiuji quietly picked up Long Qiuqiu, who was trying hard to blend in.

“You went in with Sister Yingyu… didn’t eat the cake, did you?”

Qiuqiu: …Ninety percent of it.

Let’s not talk about it.

Trying to change the subject, Yingyu blurted, “Sorry about the cup, Dr. Jiang. How much should I pay you?”

“No need. Just buy me instant noodles and we’re even.” He stroked Qiuqiu’s belly, checking for any injury.

Why does she feel heavier?

“To make up for it, I’ll bring you snacks and yogurt every week!” Yingyu offered.

Jiang Jiuji gave her a strange look.

Zhou Chenyi had messaged him earlier, warning that Yingyu was up to no good.

But looking at her now…

“I don’t have much of a sweet tooth,” he said politely.

Yingyu muttered under her breath, “Not like you know who.”

“Then what do you like? Fried chicken? Pizza? Milk tea — how much sugar? Three-quarters? Whole sugar?”

Whole sugar please! Qiuqiu drooled silently on Jiang Jiuji’s sleeve.

They moved to the table. The only things there: a bowl of noodles and a plate of plain boiled shrimp.

“What about me?” Zhou Chenyi asked.

“Cabinet’s got noodles. Cook it yourself,” Jiang Jiuji replied.

“You always host like this?”

“Only for guests like you.”

Earlier, Zhou Chenyi had texted him all afternoon, flip-flopping between letting Yingyu visit and blocking her.

In the end?

Rejected.

Repeatedly.

With a smiley face.