Unable to Fall in Love Syndrome - Chapter 21.2

Chapter 21.2 – Time Speaks 11 – Part 2

With Xiao Jia gone, Qiao Shan had no reason to linger. After breakfast, she and Wenwen packed up, aiming for the midday shuttle to the airport and back to Jinyang.

Everyone else was leaving too. Zuo Yi, who’d planned a solo trip from the start, suddenly couldn’t bear the thought of staying alone in the town. He packed and joined them.

The group rolled into Jinyang that evening. After days in the cool ancient town, the return to a bit of heat hit different—the air still carried the day’s lingering scorch.

Dragging her luggage with a drowsy Wenwen made hailing a cab tricky for Qiao Shan, so she hitched a ride with Zuo Yi instead. By the time they reached the teachers’ dorms in University City, Wenwen was out cold on her lap. Zuo Yi hopped out, opened the door, and scooped the girl into his arms, murmuring to Qiao Shan, “I’ll walk you up.”

Having Zuo Yi there eased things—facing Xiao Jia wouldn’t feel quite so awkward.

Upstairs, Qiao Shan rang the bell. The door swung open to reveal Xiao Jia’s weary face. His eyes lit up at the sight of her. “Not staying longer? Why didn’t you tell me you were back?”

Then he spotted Zuo Yi behind her, cradling the sleeping Wenwen.

He stepped aside. “Come in.”

Qiao Shan hesitated, but Zuo Yi stepped forward. “No need—we’re just dropping off Wenwen. It’s late; we’ll head out. She’s wiped too.”

Xiao Jia stared at Zuo Yi, a lump in his throat. After a beat, he reached for Wenwen. “Thanks.” Mindful not to wake her, his voice was hushed, his gaze shifting back to Qiao Shan. “Get some rest soon.”

Qiao Shan nodded. Even as they headed downstairs and into the car, she was still processing. She let out a soft sigh from her seat. “That was so awkward…”

Ying Shengnan yawned from the passenger side, drawling lazily, “What’s awkward about it?”

Qiao Shan thought for a sec. “You guys wouldn’t get it. Xiao Jia confessing to me feels like… like…”

Ying Shengnan asked, “Like what?”

“Like if one day you confessed to Zuo Yi—like, you’re basically brothers, but dropping those lines dead serious! Ugh…” The analogy twisted something in a certain someone’s gut.

His hand tightened on the wheel into a fist, then slowly unclenched. Hmm… He kinda wanted to grab her, flip her over his knee.

*

Post-May Day holiday, Qiao Shan was hit with a bad case of vacation blues—zero motivation for the studio or new gigs. She tried calling Lin Zhen; the girl wouldn’t pick up, and on the rare occasions she did, it was radio silence. Qiao Shan had no clue what was up.

In her years working, it felt like all the weird, uncooperative clients had saved up for this year.

A few days later, while walking the dog, a text pinged in. Lin Zhen wrote that she’d left Jinyang, rushed home for a blind date—guy ran a diner in the county seat, solid catch. Wedding engagement next month. As for Xiao Jia? She’d lost patience, calling it quits.

Qiao Shan was baffled—she’d never dealt with a client this utterly uncooperative! It nearly made her pass out from frustration. She plopped onto the grass, took a deep breath, and flopped back—only for the chubby Dudu to plop his butt right on her face.

“…”

Qiao Shan seriously contemplated doggy homicide.

Dudu bounced off quickly, leash dragging as he bolted to the grass’s center to flirt with some male dogs.

Qiao Shan lay there bored for a bit until Xiao Jia’s call came in. Staring at the screen, she lacked the guts to answer. She chucked the phone aside and kept lounging on the ground.

It was her birthday, after all—and besides Xiao Jia, no one had bothered to ring.

An hour later, Mom Qiao called. The chat was the usual: keep an eye out for quality guys—if you like one, play matchmaker for yourself.

Qiao Shan was full of woe—did her birthday have to dive into her heart-wrenching marriage prospects?

Classic mom.

At least Mom Qiao doted—a platinum necklace arrived via express as a birthday gift. Qiao Shan fetched it home, unpacked under the desk lamp, snapped a pic, and posted to Moments.

“Happy birthday to me. [Cake emoji] [Photo]”

She flopped onto the bed after, resuming her ceiling stare-down.

Around six, hunger gnawed hard. She changed and headed out to eat. Just as she stepped into the hall, the opposite door creaked open—Zuo Yi, black apron tied on, spatula in hand, paused at the sight of her. “Cooked a bit too much just now—can’t finish solo. Come eat?”

Qiao Shan eyed him half-lidded. “No poison, right?”

It was her first time seeing him since the holiday. His Moments showed a packed schedule—meetings every night. Maybe it was her imagination, but post-town, his updates had ramped up.

From one every few months to one or two a day now. Like he was posting for a specific someone’s eyes.

Zuo Yi asked, “Not hungry?”

Qiao Shan clutched her belly and shuffled in, grabbing shoe covers at the entry to slip on before padding into the living room. The aroma wafted savory-sweet, tangy vinegar notes that made her mouth water.

The dining room table was a revelation—restaurant-caliber dishes, each plated with absurd precision. Braised lion’s head meatballs, fermented tofu pork, preserved egg with tofu, sesame sauce beef tendon slices… The vibrant colors had Qiao Shan swallowing nonstop.

Zuo Yi pulled out a chair. “Sit. You’re in for a treat—I baked a cake too.”

Her nose, keen as a hound’s, caught the cloying cream scent; drool nearly hit the plate in front of her.

Zuo Yi pulled the cake from the oven, setting it on the marble bar dividing kitchen from dining. Qiao Shan watched him methodically smooth the top with a flat knife, then swirl in blueberry jam to tint the cream purple for piping.

He glanced her way. “What flower you like?”

Qiao Shan pondered. “Hmm… wild lilies?”

Zuo Yi nodded, deftly squeezing out purple lily blooms across the six-inch cake’s surface, circling it neatly before topping with fruit slices. Done and dusted.

He slid it across to her. “Happy birthday.”

Qiao Shan blinked, her heart going all gooey-warm. She clasped her hands, marveling, “Zuo Xiaoqi, how are you this handy? God-tier! Your only flaw’s that temper—otherwise, perfection incarnate!”

Of the spread, the lion’s heads stole the show. Crispy outer crust glazed in sweet-sour sauce, melting tender inside—long after swallowing, the tang lingered on her tongue.

She’d thought Xiao Jia’s cooking was top-notch; Zuo Yi’s blew it away, hitting that “freshness melts your tongue” peak for real.

Zuo Yi said, “My skills are miles behind Big Bro’s.”

Qiao Shan said, “Nah uh, yours tastes better.”

Zuo Yi said, “Catch him when he’s free sometime—have him cook for you.”

Qiao Shan said, “Didn’t he in the town? Meh, average.”

Zuo Yi explained: “A chef’s food tastes great mostly ’cause of ingredients—they spare no expense on sourcing, beating home cooks every time. Big Bro’s picky about tools, stuff, and nailing the heat just right.”

Qiao Shan sighed. “No wonder your palate’s so picky—spoiled by Big Bro, huh?”

Zuo Yi shook his head. “Compared to Second Bro’s tongue, mine’s amateur hour.”

Qiao Shan said, “You three brothers—one more extreme than the last.”

After tasting Zuo Yi’s handiwork, Qiao Shan swore off pricey restaurant meals. She gnawed her chopstick, pleading, “Zuo-ge, double portions from now on? Rent’s up in ten days—can I mooch meals till then? I’ll pay!”

Zuo Yi eyed her. “Mooching? Sure. But mornings at six sharp—join me for market runs.”

Qiao Shan exclaimed, “!!! Six?! Dudu sleeps past that! Earlier than the dog?!”

Zuo Yi said, “Guess no mooching then.”

She bobbed her head frantically. “Mooch mooch mooch! Market market! Six it is!”

Back home post-dinner, the door click made Qiao Shan realize her doom. So she’d traded lazy mornings for free eats?

She leaned on the wall to swap shoes when the bell rang. “Who is it?” she called through the door.

After a long pause, a low male voice replied, “Me.”

Xiao Jia…

Qiao Shan wavered—open up, and how to face him? She paused. “Head home—it’s late. We’ll talk properly another time.”

Xiao Jia said, “Just dropping off a birthday gift. Nothing else. Pretend that last thing never happened—back to how we were?”

She hesitated. “Xiao Jia, leave it at your door. Few days, then we chat, okay?”

He sighed outside, silent a beat before saying, “Qiao Shan, I held those words in for years—scared your personality would lead to exactly this. Not asking for an answer. Just wanted to give you some cookies, see your face. I… miss you.”

Qiao Shan pinched her brow. Even “I miss you” carried extra weight in his tone.

Through the door, she said, “Xiao Jia, I’ve always seen you as a brother—we grew up together. Dating feels weird, right? Plus… I like someone else.”

He paused before asking, “Zuo Yi?”

Zuo Yi? Not what she’d planned—she’d meant Ying Shengnan. But if he assumed… sure.

She nodded. “Yeah, I like Zuo Yi.”

He asked again, “Qiao Shan, do you hate me?”

She replied, “Keep bringing up liking me, and I will.”

“Mm, got it,” Xiao Jia said after a longer pause. “Then no seeing each other for a few months. I’ll sort myself out. When we meet again, I won’t hope for the old days—just that you won’t dodge me.”

He stared at the door, eyes reddening.

Qiao Shan had woven through every bit of his first half-life; he’d done so much for her, not to change things, but to let time whisper his feelings—beyond love, beyond family. He could bear not having her, but not her hating him.

Just then, Zuo Yi cracked his door to toss trash. The sliver caught the whole exchange clear as day.

Oh. So the woman across the hall had a crush on him.

Ha. What a coincidence—he was starting to…