After that mix-up, Xia Yiyang felt that his boss still hadn’t fully recognized how indispensable he was—the true emperor of part-time workers. That was why, when he “resigned,” the boss had let him go without a second thought.
Come on, he was the face of the shop! Not to brag, but every time he stood behind the cash register, the ladies who’d only planned to order the “basic” version of ice jelly would get all dizzy and upgrade to the “premium” version instead… which had really boosted the store’s revenue quite a bit.
No, he had to keep at it and prove to Sheng Lin just how important he really was.
Little did Xia Yiyang expect that this moment to prove his worth would come so suddenly—
That afternoon, the ice jelly shop received a special visitor.
It was a young man with a head full of dreadlocks, looking to be in his early twenties. He was alarmingly tall and impossibly thin, like one of those inflatable tube men used to attract customers outside car washes.
When he walked into the tiny ice jelly shop, all the surrounding customers couldn’t help but steal glances at him.
Fragments of hushed chatter arose.
“Is he a foreigner?” “Probably, look at those black dreads!” “But he doesn’t look that dark.” “Black people can be mixed-race too, you know.” “Speaking of which, how do you wash dreadlocks? I heard you never wash them—doesn’t that get smelly?” “Sweetie, look, it’s a foreigner! Go say hi! Say hello! Why are you so shy? Your teacher taught you this, you haven’t forgotten already, have you?”
Luckily, the foreign guest couldn’t understand any of it. He walked past the fragmented, noisy chatter and stopped at the counter. Behind his sunglasses, he surveyed the various ice jellies and fruits on display, as well as the brush-written sign hanging on the wall.
Auntie Zhao, who had been busy behind the register, first enthusiastically shouted “Hello! Hello!” a few times, then asked him in her loudest voice: “YOU—WANT—WHAT—TO—EAT!”
The older generation was just adorable like that: in their world, there was no such thing as a language barrier—as long as you slowed down and spoke up, even foreigners could understand their (not-so-standard) Mandarin.
The foreign customer opened his mouth to say something, but was suddenly interrupted.
Auntie Li said to Auntie Zhao: “He’s a foreigner. You’re speaking Chinese to him—he can’t understand you!”
Auntie Zhao: “Then what do you suggest we do! The boss went out to stock up again. This is so frustrating!”
Auntie Li: “Get Xiao Xia! The kid went to high school—he’s bound to know a thing or two about foreign languages!”
And just like that, Xia Yiyang—the high-school-educated kid who knew a thing or two about foreign languages—was dragged out from the back kitchen, still holding a freshly peeled giant mango in his hand like he was carrying a tower.
The foreign guest’s gaze jolted, flickering between Xia Yiyang’s face and the mango tower in his hand.
Taking one look at him, Xia Yiyang immediately understood what was going on.
Ahem. Raise an emperor for a thousand days, use him for one. Now was the time for this part-time worker emperor to show off his skills!
Xia Yiyang tossed the giant mango in his hand, then flashed the guest a smile even sweeter than the fruit, asking in English: “Hi señor, do you wanna try some traditional Chinese jelly dessert? It’s called BINGFEN, it’s icy, sweet, and refreshing! And we have all kinds of toppings, like fruit or honey.”
His English grades had always been pretty good, and with his naturally outgoing personality, he wasn’t the least bit intimidated by a foreign customer, enthusiastically introducing the store’s offerings.
The aunties clapped dramatically from the side: “Xiao Xia, your foreign language is so smooth! Your daily wage is 130 yuan, and those few sentences alone were worth 129 of it!”
“Not bad, not bad.” Xia Yiyang wasn’t the least bit modest. “My English was just a tiny bit short of a perfect score on the college entrance exam.”
Auntie Zhao let out a surprised “Huh?”: “If your grades were that good, then why didn’t you keep studying?”
Xia Yiyang: “…”
Uh-oh. He’d forgotten that when he first applied for the job, he’d made up a whole pitiful backstory about having terrible grades and being forced to drop out.
Luckily, the aunties didn’t dwell on the question, because the foreign guest raised his hand to point at the various ice jellies in the display case and said: “Can I get a half-and-half mix of your ice jelly and liangxia? I’ll take one with mango and nuts but no melon seeds. And I don’t like brown sugar—do you have any other syrup?”
“Eh?” Xia Yiyang was dumbfounded. “You… your Chinese is so good! Not even a trace of an accent?”
The dreadlocked foreign customer flashed a wide, eight-tooth grin: “That’s because I’m—”
“—Because he’s Chinese.” A voice cut in, and a new figure appeared in the narrow ice jelly shop.
It was Sheng Lin, carrying two large boxes of fruit in his arms as he walked in from outside. Despite the scorching heat, he barely had a drop of sweat on him, looking completely fresh; only a few beads of perspiration hung at his temples, trickling down the side of his neck before quickly disappearing into the collar of his sleeveless T-shirt.
Xia Yiyang instinctively reached out to take the fruit his boss had carried in, but Sheng Lin took one look at his spindly arms and legs, walked right past him, and put the fruit in the back kitchen’s fridge instead.
After tidying up the kitchen, Sheng Lin came back around to the counter and looked at the “foreign customer” standing at the register, asking impatiently: “Qin Zaozao, what are you doing here?”
The young man named Qin Zaozao took off his sunglasses and tucked them into the dreadlocks on top of his head: “I heard you’re your own boss now. I came to support your business. What, not allowed?”
“Sure.” Sheng Lin pointed at the payment QR code on the counter, utterly merciless. “Pay first, then take a seat.”
Qin Zaozao reluctantly pulled out his phone to scan the QR code, then turned to Xia Yiyang, who was still standing there looking dazed, and asked him: “Little bro, how much was that ice jelly I just ordered?”
Xia Yiyang reflexively quoted the price, but before he knew it, Qin Zaozao had fired off a barrage of follow-up questions: “How old are you? Are you even an adult? Why are you working here? How many hours a day do you work, and how much does Sheng Lin pay you? This guy’s got a terrible temper and a sharp tongue, right? Has he ever docked your pay?”
“If you love asking questions so much, why don’t you go be a kindergarten teacher,” Sheng Lin cut him off. “One more word of nonsense and you’re out.”
Qin Zaozao pursed his lips, shot Xia Yiyang a look that said “I feel for you having to work under this guy, I get you, bro,” and was then banished by Sheng Lin to a corner spot by the wall to face his punishment.
Watching the two of them interact, Xia Yiyang pieced it together: this mysterious customer was probably their boss’s “frenemy”… Who would’ve thought that someone as aloof and cool as Sheng Lin would have such an offbeat, unserious friend?
Still, how did the two of them even meet?
…
“What are you really doing at my shop?” Sheng Lin casually pulled over a chair and sat down next to Qin Zaozao.
“I told you, I’m here to support your business!” Qin Zaozao ran a hand through his dreadlocks and said with great sincerity, “Besides, you were my bunkmate—my bro. You didn’t even show up to our graduation farewell dinner. I had to come ask you why.”
Sheng Lin replied flatly: “What’s there to attend at a graduation dinner? Just everyone showing off how many job offers they got, or whether they’re going to the US or Europe for their PhD… They’ve been competing for four years straight—aren’t they tired of it yet?”
“They really aren’t.” Qin Zaozao chuckled, then suddenly shifted gears. “Speaking of which, do you know what everyone at the dinner table was saying about you?”
Sheng Lin: “Don’t want to know. Not interested.”
“Don’t be so disinterested!” Qin Zaozao, ever the gossip, vividly recounted the asinine comments from their class of grade-obsessed overachievers. “You topped the Mechanical Engineering faculty rankings for four years straight, stole the spotlight in every club activity—half the class was green with envy. Senior year, you turned down the grad school recommendation, so everyone figured you were going abroad or signing with a big tech company, destined for greatness. But who could have guessed that after graduation, you’d quietly take over the ice jelly shop at the school gate? They all said you’d lost your mind!”
If Xia Yiyang had heard this, his eyes would have gone wide in disbelief. He never would have guessed that his future alma mater was also Sheng Lin’s, and that Sheng Lin was exactly four years ahead of him—by the time Xia Yiyang enrolled, Sheng Lin had already graduated.
This was the first time Sheng Lin had heard how others judged his decision to open the shop. How ridiculous and overblown.
“Lost my mind?” Sheng Lin scoffed. “Do I seem mentally unstable to you?”
But his good buddy Qin Zaozao actually hesitated for a moment, glanced around, and lowered his voice: “Sheng Lin, be honest with me—are you depressed?”
Sheng Lin wondered if he’d heard wrong: “…What did you say?”
Qin Zaozao: “I get it, I get it. Society’s so stressful these days, everyone’s grinding themselves to the bone. It’s totally normal that you’d want to step back and take a break! If you weren’t sick, why else would you throw away a bright future (and fat paychecks) to run some cheap snack shop that barely turns a profit, working from dawn till dusk like a dog?”
“Exhausting?” Sheng Lin shot back. “I actually find it pretty easy.”
“Easy how?”
“Easy on the mind.”
“…”
Sheng Lin turned to look at the bustling crowd in his shop. They didn’t have many tables, but the turnover was high—every customer who dug into the generous portions of ice jelly wore a satisfied expression. Delivery orders kept flooding in, couriers coming and going; since the A/C was blasting, the couriers didn’t rush the orders either, stealing a moment to enjoy the cool air. The aunties scooping the ice jelly worked with swift efficiency, their voices loud and clear, carrying that distinctive Chengdu warmth and forthrightness.
Whether it was the delivery guys huddling near the A/C, the customers hunting for seats, or the hardworking aunties behind the counter—every single one of them… was so vividly alive.
Sheng Lin had graduated from the Mechanical Engineering school. On campus, he’d learned how to make gears spin at high speed, how to fasten screws and nuts tightly together, how to drive a massive machine forward without stopping. Machinery had no life—it was a product forged from steel, a precision-calculated instrument that never made mistakes.
But the world had too many machines already, and society was never short of a gear or a screw.
Yet in this tiny ice jelly shop, one unremarkable little screw could briefly step out of its duties, rest here for a moment, pause, and listen to the cicadas sing.
And he, Sheng Lin—this young man who had been defined by the word “outstanding” his entire journey—also wanted to sit here and savor a bowl of ice jelly.
How much could a bowl of ice jelly hold?
—Just fine shaved ice, sweet fruit, rich brown sugar syrup, and one long, lazy summer.
“Wait, hold on—since when were you this romantic?” Qin Zaozao was dumbfounded after hearing his reason for opening the shop. “I’ve known you for four years, and I always thought you were the cold, aloof type. Never pegged you as a closet idealist.”
Sheng Lin made no comment on his old friend’s assessment.
Qin Zaozao would say that simply because he didn’t really know him.
Then again, perfectly matched screws and nuts were everywhere—but perfectly matched souls were one in a million.
After confirming that Sheng Lin was neither depressed nor insane, Qin Zaozao was (temporarily) at ease.
“I’ve got one more question,” Qin Zaozao said. “Your shop may not be big, but it’s in a prime location—rent must be steep, right? Plus renovations, equipment, staff… Where did you get all that money? Are you secretly some rich second-generation heir, or did you win the lottery?”
“Neither.” Sheng Lin replied. “I earned it myself.”
“Huh?”
Sheng Lin: “I’ve been working on robotics+ projects with senior classmates since my sophomore year, and I’ve been getting dividends all along. Before graduation, a senior female classmate also introduced me to a few clients. Now I just help them with some remote troubleshooting now and then, and they pay promptly. It’s not exactly financial freedom, but at least I don’t have to worry about food or clothes.”
“Stop, stop.” Qin Zaozao covered his ears, looking aggrieved. “Compared to my own failures, my bro’s success pains me even more.”
Sheng Lin let out a low chuckle: “I asked if you wanted to join me back then. You’re the one who turned it down.”
“Forget it, forget it. I’m not like you. I only got into this major because I overachieved on the college entrance exam. I got crushed for four straight years, nearly died every finals season, and barely scraped through to graduation. I swore I’d never touch those textbooks again.” Qin Zaozao waved his hand. “My current job’s pretty chill anyway. Money’s just material stuff to me.”
Sheng Lin studied his friend’s head full of dreadlocks. The last time they’d met was at the graduation ceremony in May—Qin Zaozao had already been growing his hair out then. He never expected that two months later, Qin Zaozao would show up in front of him looking like some full-on hippie. Sheng Lin was curious what kind of job he had now that allowed such an outrageous hairstyle.
But before he could ask, Qin Zaozao abruptly changed the subject.
Qin Zaozao winked toward the counter: “By the way, what’s the deal with that fresh-faced little cutie over there? I noticed his clothes and shoes are pretty pricey, and he’s got that Beijing accent—doesn’t seem like someone who needs to work a part-time job.”
“Him?” Sheng Lin didn’t realize that the corners of his mouth had lifted slightly at the mention of Xia Yiyang. “Who knows? Got a spoiled young master’s attitude all over him. Came here saying he wanted to work, but spent his first few days causing all kinds of trouble. His only saving grace is that he’s not picky and easy to feed. I figured he’d run off after a week, but somehow he stuck it out… All in all, the kid’s pretty well-behaved.”
“Oh? That does sound a bit unusual.” Qin Zaozao pondered. “He looks pretty young—hope he’s not a runaway.”
“Probably not.” Sheng Lin shook his head. “With a temperament like his, he’s definitely been spoiled by his family. No way he’d run away from home. I’m guessing he ran into some kind of trouble he can’t tell his family about, and had no other choice but to get a job. Whatever he’s dealing with, the fact that he thought to earn his own money is already pretty admirable.”
Qin Zaozao: “First time I’ve ever heard you compliment someone. Hell must’ve frozen over.”
They were chatting quietly when, right at that moment, Xia Yiyang carefully carried a tray over from behind the counter. On it was a bowl of crystal-clear ice jelly, with mango piled so high it looked like it might topple over at any moment.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Brother Qin!” Xia Yiyang set the ice jelly down in front of him with nimble movements, his tone sweet but not overly familiar. “We ran out of mango earlier, so I went to the back and cut some fresh ones. Really fresh—you should try it.”
On top of the ice jelly sat a large scoop of ice cream, drizzled with chocolate sauce.
Qin Zaozao: “I don’t remember ordering ice cream.”
Xia Yiyang replied: “You’re the boss’s friend—the ice cream’s on the boss.”
Sheng Lin laughed in exasperation: “You’re generous with my money, aren’t you?”
Qin Zaozao beamed at that and quickly scooped up a big spoonful of ice cream into his mouth: “Mmm, perfect~! Kid, you’ve got good instincts!”
After setting down the ice jelly, Xia Yiyang was about to leave when Qin Zaozao stopped him and insisted he sit down and chat. The shop wasn’t too busy at the moment, and Xia Yiyang was curious about this guy with the head full of dreadlocks, so he sat down without hesitation.
“Brother Qin, are you in music?” Xia Yiyang asked. “I’ve got a friend in music who has the same vibe with his hair—super unique. I could introduce you two!”
“Nope, I can’t carry a tune to save my life,” Qin Zaozao said. “But you’re not wrong—my hairstyle does have something to do with my job.”
Xia Yiyang gestured at his height: “Basketball player?”
He remembered that a lot of NBA stars had worn dreads.
“Him?” Sheng Lin’s lips curled into a faint smirk. “He’s all height and no muscle—a total glass cannon. One game of basketball would take half his life.”
“Alright, alright, stop roasting me!” Qin Zaozao directly revealed the answer: “—I’m a tarot reader. These aren’t dreadlocks—they’re my ‘inspiration antennae,’ helping me communicate with the universe!”
Xia Yiyang: “…?”
Sheng Lin: “…?”
Sheng Lin: “Qin Zaozao, what kind of nonsense is this now?”
“Sheng Lin, is it only okay for you to open an ice jelly shop, but not for me to switch careers to divination? I know this is hard for you to accept, but I recently felt the call of spirituality and formed a deep connection with the universe.” Qin Zaozao suddenly dropped his playful demeanor, his expression turning serious. “Tell you what—I’ll do a free tarot reading for you, as a token of our friendship.”
Sheng Lin frowned: “I’d rather—”
“I’ll do it! I’ll do it!” Xia Yiyang shot his hand up like an eager elementary schooler, bouncing in his seat. “Brother Qin—no, Master Qin—if the boss doesn’t want one, can I get a reading?”
Sheng Lin: “Xia Yiyang, don’t—”
Qin Zaozao turned to Xia Yiyang: “Our meeting today is fate. So, fateful one—what do you wish to ask about?”
Sheng Lin: “…”
So neither of them was going to listen to him, huh?
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