Unable to Fall in Love Syndrome - Chapter 10

Chapter 10 – Tricky Client 10

Qiao Shan put away her phone, glanced at the man’s back, and without thinking much, went straight to the counter to order and pay. When she looked for a seat, she realized the guy in the white shirt was Zuo Yi. She used to think that so-called “fate” was mostly man-made, but at this moment, she suddenly felt the wonder of the word “fate.”

She thought for a second, then boldly walked over, pulled out a chair, and sat down across from him.

The man lowered his head to take a bite of his rice noodles, chewing as he lifted his chin to look at her. A flash of surprise naturally crossed his eyes, and he slowed the rhythm of his chewing.

Qiao Shan cupped her chin with both hands, her bright big eyes clashing with his indifferent gaze, and she grinned cheekily. “Mr. Zuo, what a coincidence?”

Zuo Yi set down his chopsticks and reached for a tissue, but came up empty. He frowned and grabbed his briefcase, intending to find some tissues, but still came up short. He opened his mouth to call the boss when a small pale hand offered him a pack of Heart-to-Heart mini tissues.

The girl watched him with curved brows and smiling eyes.

He didn’t accept it and instead had the boss bring over another pack.

Qiao Shan watched as he left his seat to chat with the boss in the kitchen—he seemed to come to this place often. When Zuo Yi came out, she quickly buried her head and took a couple of bites, then slung her bag over her shoulder and chased after him, rushing up to grab his arm.

Zuo Yi turned back to look at her, his face expressionless, a layer of frost condensing in his eyes as he stared at her for dozens of seconds. Qiao Shan awkwardly forgot how to even let go.

The noisy sounds of the snack street seemed to come to an abrupt halt, as if the pedestrians had been frozen into blocks.

Qiao Shan swallowed.

She just wanted to cheekily strike up a conversation, to ease the gap between them.

But why did it feel like the gap was turning into a chasm, becoming even harder to cross? What on earth had gone wrong?

Qiao Shan looked at him, holding back for a long time before saying, “Um… I wanted to say, earlier you might not have been heading the same way, but now you’re going home, right? Can I hitch a ride? It’s so late now, and it’s not safe for a single girl like me. I only got off this late because of overtime, you…”

“If you want a ride”—his icy gaze swept over the back of her hand—”let go.”

Qiao Shan immediately released her grip and trotted after him obediently.

She swore that all the thick skin and patience she’d accumulated over 27 years were being used on him.

Zuo Yi carried his suit jacket in one hand and his briefcase in the other, walking ahead. Qiao Shan, with her shorter legs, could only quicken her pace to keep up.

They passed a small shop selling candied hawthorns, and Zuo Yi paused, looking inside.

He seemed to have forgotten there was someone he didn’t particularly like trailing behind him.

The candied hawthorn shop wasn’t very big, just enough space for a glass display case and room to pass by.

The dim yellow light seeped into the glass case, falling on the strings of exquisite candied hawthorns, their vibrant sugary glaze shimmering brightly. Qiao Shan stepped forward a few paces, standing beside him to observe.

Zuo Yi turned his head sideways, gazing, entranced, at the candied hawthorns in the glass case.

The warm yellow light spilling from the shop illuminated his chiseled profile, his long lashes frozen in place, as if paused, lost in memories.

The savory flavor of the beef rice noodles still lingered on his taste buds. It was delicious, but it always felt like something was missing.

Many years ago, in a flower-scented rural courtyard, he sat on a small stool while an elder brought out a steaming bowl of beef rice noodles, placing it on the long bench in front of him. The elder would pull a handful of wild cilantro from the garden, wash it, chop it into pieces, and sprinkle it into his bowl.

Every year on his birthday, the elder would take him to town to watch shadow puppet shows and eat candied hawthorns.

He remembered that the candied hawthorns from the shop in the alley behind the elementary school were the best; the elder said it was a craft passed down in the owner’s family for a hundred years.

“Boss, one skewer.” Qiao Shan paused, glanced back at the still-dazed someone, and added, “Never mind, make it two.”

Fresh hawthorns were strung on a bamboo skewer, coated in a layer of translucent sugar. The owner took one out from the glass case, wrapped it in edible white paper, and handed it to Qiao Shan.

Zuo Yi looked at Qiao Shan; under the dim yellow light, her figure seemed to blend with the old shop, turning into a scene from an orange-tinted vintage shadow puppet play.

“Hey, still heading home?” Qiao Shan waved the candied hawthorn in front of him.

Zuo Yi snapped back to reality and continued walking forward. Qiao Shan took the change from the owner, clutched the two skewers, and hurried to catch up.

When they reached the parking spot, Qiao Shan ducked into the car, held up the candied hawthorn, and offered it to Zuo Yi: “Here, this one’s for you.”

Zuo Yi gripped the steering wheel without making a move to take it, just coldly staring at her, as if conveying some message.

Qiao Shan got the hint, stuffed the candied hawthorn into a kraft paper bag, set it aside, and said, “I’ll leave it here for you. Remember to eat it later—consider it my payment for the ride.”

The two rode in silence all the way back. At the community, Zuo Yi parked at the entrance and signaled for her to get out.

Qiao Shan knew better than to linger, slung her bag over her shoulder, and got out.

Outside the community, on the pedestrian street, there was a high-end cake shop; every day when Qiao Shan passed by on the bus, she could smell the sweet creamy aroma. Remembering Ying Shengnan had asked her to deliver a cake, she headed toward the cake shop with her bag.

At this hour, the cake shop was already closed, the shutter door pulled down, with only a small door left ajar, leaking out bright yellow light.

Qiao Shan pushed the door open and went in. The owner seemed to have anticipated her arrival, smiling at her. “Welcome.”

She glanced at the empty display case and asked, “Can you still make a cake now?”

“There’s one a customer canceled on—do you want it?” the owner asked.

Qiao Shan thought for a moment. “How much?”

“Three hundred fifty.”

“That’s expensive!”

The owner smiled gently. “I can give you a thirty percent discount.”

“Then I’ll take it,” Qiao Shan said.

The design on the cake was odd: two skewers of candied hawthorns, with words written in blueberry jam in the middle:

“Happy Birthday, Handsome Brother.” At the end of the phrase, there was a playful emoji.

Qiao Shan inexplicably got goosebumps and asked the owner, “Can you remove the words ‘Handsome Brother’?”

The owner thought for a second, nodded in agreement, took the cake to the back room, and when he came out again, it was already packed in a fancy box.

Qiao Shan assumed the owner had followed her request, so she didn’t check, grabbed the cake, and headed home.

She placed the cake at Zuo Yi’s door, rang the doorbell, and knocked a few times on the door panel.

When she got home, she realized it was past midnight—a new day had begun, so Zuo Yi’s birthday had just arrived. But… had no one celebrated his birthday?

What a lonely person.

Zuo Yi opened the door and saw a delicate cake box at his doorstep. It was past 12 now, meaning his birthday had arrived. In previous years, at this time, Ying Shengnan would be the first to wish him happy birthday. He looked at the cake at the door, assuming it was from Ying Shengnan, but when he opened it, he found it wasn’t.

Inside was a card with neat, elegant handwriting— a girl’s script.

“Am I the first to wish you happy birthday? Happy birthday! May you stay forever young and get even more handsome! This is a cake I specially picked for you—hope you like it. I’m all bark and no bite; what I say and what I think are never the same. Actually, from the first day I moved in, I’ve really liked you. ￣3￣ — Cute Little Shanshan.”

Zuo Yi furrowed his brows as he set down the card, his gaze landing on the cake’s design and the words.

“Happy Birthday, Handsome Brother.”

…What… a mess!? This “liked you” was a bit ambiguous. What kind of like?

He dipped his fingertip into the jam and tasted it lightly; the jam was moderately sweet and sour—not bad.

A hint of sweetness seeped into his taste buds.

A touch of tartness rushed from his taste buds straight to his nose, as if invisibly choking him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the candied hawthorn he’d left on the dining table, wrapped in kraft paper, with the end of the bamboo skewer sticking out. He picked it up, tore open the bag, and gently bit into it.

The sugary sweetness of the coating was quickly overwhelmed by the tart juice of the hawthorn—nice texture, and his mood improved a bit.

However, Qiao Shan had no idea about that card or its contents. That confession written from Qiao Shan’s perspective was penned by Ying Shengnan.

He had deliberately asked Qiao Shan around midnight, guessing she would agree, and figuring she would buy the cake from that shop outside the community, so he’d arranged everything in advance.

At that moment, Ying Shengnan was squatting outside the cake shop smoking, his eyes half-open, half-closed. He tilted his chin up toward the glaring streetlight and blew out a smoke ring, then pulled out his phone to send Zuo Yi a WeChat:

“Third Bro, happy birthday.”

*

The next day was the weekend.

Qiao Shan planned to give herself a day off and go to Jinyang Jiao Da to see Xiao Jia.

She changed into a casual outfit, tied her hair into a fluffy bun, didn’t even draw her eyebrows, and went downstairs bare-faced, leading her dog. Downstairs, she ran into Zuo Yi picking up a package, hesitated for a moment, then decided to greet him.

Zuo Yi was dressed casually at home: white T-shirt, black pants, his dark, messy hair giving off a uniquely masculine lazy charm.

Out of politeness, Zuo Yi nodded slightly at her, his face still devoid of any emotion.

Qiao Shan led her dog past him, but after just a few steps, she heard the man behind her say in a neutral tone, “Thanks.”

Qiao Shan turned back to look at him, glanced around to make sure no one else was there and he wasn’t on the phone, then pointed to her nose and asked, “Are you… saying thanks to me?”

Zuo Yi nodded. “Thanks for the cake.”

Huh?

Wait… last night’s cake—she hadn’t written a card or left any trace. How did he know it was from her? That didn’t make sense.

Could it be… that when she placed the cake last night, he was right behind the door watching through the peephole? She paused before grinning broadly. “No problem, no problem—neighbors, after all…”

Once in the taxi, she replayed the scene in her mind, feeling like it was a dream.

Why did it seem like the way that guy looked at her just now was much softer? Was it an illusion? An illusion?

It was inexplicably… creepy.

On the way, Qiao Shan chatted with the driver while checking her matchmaking database on her phone.

After screening several times, she felt Tong Xiaoli was quite suitable for Zuo Yi.

Tong Xiaoli had an indestructible heart, which was why she could stick around after being scolded by Zuo Yi a few times. After some time getting to know her, Qiao Shan thought Tong Xiaoli had a good personality—cheerful, helpful, a nice girl.

Someone like Zuo Yi probably lacked family love, which was why his personality was so odd. If there was an optimistic, warm-hearted girl to care for him, his heart should soften.

She sent Tong Xiaoli’s basic info and photo to Ying Shengnan, asking, “This girl’s not bad—Zuo Yi’s subordinate. I’m planning to set them up.”

After a long pause, Ying Shengnan replied: “Not bad. My little brother’s happiness is in your hands. :)”

*

Qiao Shan often brought her dog into the faculty housing area at Jinyang Jiao Da, so she was already familiar with the guards. The guard saw her and teased, “Miss Qiao, here to walk the dog with Professor Xiao again?”

“Yeah, walking the dog and checking on Wenwen.” Qiao Shan led the dog in, smiling at the guard.

She had just reached the bottom of the building when she heard a child on the second-floor balcony shouting, “Daddy Xiao! Mommy Qiao and Dudu are here!”

She had barely started up the stairs when Dudu excitedly wriggled out of her hand and charged up to the second floor.

So when she arrived on the second floor, she saw Xiao Jia squatting at the door, slowly petting Dudu’s head with his distinct, slender fingers.

He looked up at Qiao Shan, his handsome brows and eyes curving into a gentle smile. “You’re here.”

He was squatting right in a patch of sunlight, his smile like the warm fire in a winter hearth. He wore a pink ruffled apron with a cartoon Doraemon pattern, exuding a gentle sweetness.

The child at the door dragged Dudu inside to play, leaving just the two of them outside.

Xiao Jia stood up, his brows and eyes holding a warm smile. “Why didn’t you bring snacks for Wenwen today? She’s been looking forward to it for a while.”

As he stood, Qiao Shan’s downward gaze turned upward.

…She deflated, lowering her head to look at her feet. Why was everyone around her so tall?

Seeing her drooping head, Xiao Jia chuckled, reached out to ruffle her hair, his tone comforting. “Haven’t had breakfast yet? Come in—I saved a cup of your favorite walnut milk.”