Chapter 36: "Open Your Mouth, Have Some Candy"

Amid the clamorous private room, Qin Yichi’s voice reached Qiao Zhen’s ears with perfect clarity, not a single word missed. Though he spoke at a normal volume, to her it was as if he were shouting through a megaphone right beside her. Each syllable struck the surface of her heart like a stone tossed into a lake, sending out ripples upon ripples.

Priceless treasure, priceless treasure...

Would her gift, her heartfelt offering, ever be cherished by someone as something precious?

The boys launched once again into their teasing chorus of “yo yo yo.” Qiao Zhen stood frozen, the tips of her ears inexplicably warm, her fingers curling tight. Qin Yichi, pulling back his bold and fervent gaze, casually pulled out a chair for her. “Sit down.”

“…Alright.”

When everyone had returned to their seats, Qiao Zhen reached into her canvas bag, drew out a lovely off-white pouch, and stuffed it into Qin Yichi’s arms, her voice gentle and soft: “This is your third birthday present.”

The first had been headphones, the second a scarf, and this third—a batch of cranberry cookies she had baked herself.

Truth be told, Qiao Zhen didn’t quite know why she had put so much care into preparing so many gifts.

She simply wanted to give them to Qin Yichi…

Qin Yichi took the beautifully wrapped bag between his fingers, his dark eyes fixed on her, his chest growing warmer by the second. “Qiao Zhen, I really like it.”

He liked it very, very much.

Yet before he could fully savor his joy, he saw Qiao Zhen rummage through her bag again, pulling out eight or nine more small pouches to distribute to everyone present.

Her eyes sparkled, her smile sweet and lovely, her words sincere as she said how happy she was to know everyone and hoped they wouldn’t mind her homemade cookies.

The boys were ecstatic, each clutching their bag, thumping their chests in mock solemnity:

“How could we possibly mind? Come on, homemade treats are always the coolest!”

“Don’t worry, Qiao, I’ll finish every last crumb, not a cookie crumb left behind.”

“Little Qiao is so talented—unlike Daniu, whose last batch of chocolate tasted like… well, I’d rather not say!”

No one could dislike a kind and gentle girl, especially one who was also Qin Yichi’s cherished “childhood friend.” Naturally, their affection for her grew boundless.

The room erupted again in noisy cheer.

Qin Yichi, however, glanced down at the bag in his hands, then at the identical ones in everyone else’s, a strange tightness in his throat. Slowly, his eyes dimmed, and he slumped against the chair, fists clenched quietly, his gaze downcast as he muttered with a hint of sourness,

“Oh—so I’m not the only one. All the other girls got some too…”

His tone was the very picture of Lin Daiyu’s legendary pettiness, tinged with an unmistakable trace of grievance.

It was like a little dog, eyes shining as its beloved owner tossed it a bone, bounding with joy—only to turn around and see the owner tossing bones to all the other dogs as well. The tail that had been wagging so enthusiastically drooped at once, its head hanging low, standing forlorn on the spot…

Qiao Zhen’s eyelid twitched suddenly, wondering if her imagination was getting the better of her.

She sat right beside Qin Yichi, and immediately turned to him, whispering in an almost inaudible voice,

“No… yours is different from theirs.”

In fact, she had made his especially, while the ones for his friends were more of an afterthought.

Hearing this, Qin Yichi’s Adam’s apple bobbed, a wave of warmth rushing through his veins.

Everyone tore open their bags to find neat square cookies.

Only Qin Yichi’s cookies were star-shaped.

His portion was more generous, adorned with extra ingredients, larger, prettier, and more carefully crafted.

And, as it happened, his was the only bag tied with a pink lace bow.

He sat there, momentarily dazed.

Niu Yifeng, not to be outdone, stretched out a mischievous paw. “Let me try that star-shaped one—”

In a flash, Qin Yichi slapped his hand away, fiercely protective. “No way, these are mine!”

Niu Yifeng protested indignantly, “But ours aren’t like yours!”

Qin Yichi’s lips curved up in a lazy, triumphant smile, a glint of pride in his eyes. “That’s right, ours are different—”

The others: “…” Why did he suddenly seem so punchable?

The waiter began to bring out dish after dish, all of Qiao Zhen’s favorites: crystal shrimp, Buddha Jumps Over the Wall, sweet glutinous rice with candied lotus root, fried milk…

Qiao Zhen’s eyes lit up, and she ate quietly in small, delicate bites. The rest of the table dug in with gusto.

Qin Yichi, however, was distracted, his gaze repeatedly drifting to Qiao Zhen.

Her lips parted ever so slightly, taking dainty mouthfuls; her cherry lips shimmered with a dewy glaze, plump and delicate as flower petals.

Qin Yichi’s throat grew inexplicably dry, his breath heavier, his mind clouded with a single, overwhelming thought:

She looks so kissable…

He couldn’t help but recall the moment on the mountaintop, when Qiao Zhen had hugged him from behind, rubbing against him, even through layers of clothing, her softness and curves still so palpable.

Her sweet scent lingered in the air, her voice, whispering his name again and again, eyes wet and clear, body and voice trembling gently.

Tightly pressed together.

After all, Qin Yichi was a young man in the prime of life; in such circumstances, how could his heart not race—how could he not react…

“Qin Yichi!”

A real-world voice yanked him back to himself.

He met Qiao Zhen’s pure, flawless gaze and, suddenly guilty, rasped, “What’s wrong?”

Qiao Zhen lifted her glass of coconut juice to clink with his, her eyes curving into crescent moons as she smiled, “It’s nothing, just wanted to toast you.”

She had no idea what he’d been thinking, only that his ears were red from daydreaming, so she called his name to bring him back…

After dinner, everyone let out contented sighs, then made their way to the rooftop—a reserved KTV room to sing.

Room 1110 was spacious and comfortable, three large sofas encircling a table, several microphones laid out.

One of the boys leaped onto a sofa, rummaging through his backpack in excitement. “I even brought Truth or Dare cards! Who’s in?”

Suddenly, all eyes turned to Qiao Zhen, as though the whole room awaited her response.

“….”

With a dozen pairs of eyes fixed on her, Qiao Zhen’s breath caught; she nodded lightly, “I’m in.”

“Qiao, are you sure? We play for real! Loser drinks the most disgusting bitter melon juice, it’s insanely horrible!”

Qiao Zhen set her jaw, considered for a moment, then nodded with resolve, “I’m game.”

She wanted to be part of the group, to play games with Qin Yichi…

Besides, even if she lost, it was only bitter melon juice, not poison.

She! Was! Not! Afraid!

However, when the waiter brought out a bottle of ominously green “deathly dark” bitter melon juice, Qiao Zhen’s determined expression began to crumble.

Surely they hadn’t added some dark, mysterious ingredients to this juice?

Zhang Yu explained patiently, “The specialty here is this dark bitter melon juice—infused with Chinese herbs. It’s good for you, beautifies the skin, though it tastes terrible. Actually, it’s really popular—sells better than any other drink because the flavor’s so… unique.”

Qiao Zhen: “…It certainly is unique.”

The boys poured the dark liquid into small cups, shrieking theatrically as they did.

A bit splashed onto Qiao Zhen’s fingertip. She couldn’t resist bringing it to her nose for a sniff.

A faint, fresh aroma. The taste… surely it wouldn’t be that bad?

Curious, she lowered her head and gave it a tentative lick.

In the next instant, a wave of bitterness crashed over her palate, a hundred times worse than the most acrid medicine, overwhelming every taste bud.

Help…

So bitter, so terribly bitter, so undrinkable.

Qiao Zhen almost burst into tears, her brows knotting in pained frustration. She had always hated bitter flavors most of all—now she wished she could cut out her tongue entirely.

Just then, a lemon candy, half unwrapped, appeared at her lips like a spring of water in the desert, irresistibly tempting.

Qin Yichi, at some point, had taken the seat beside her, holding out the candy, his voice low and enchanting:

“Open up, have some candy.”