Xia Yiyang didn’t end up finding someone to go out and take photos with him—but he did get a visit from a master smooth-talker.
One afternoon, while Xia Yiyang was slacking off at the shop, the light above him suddenly dimmed as a figure blocked the overhead glow.
“Playing on your phone during work hours? Aren’t you afraid the boss will catch you and dock your pay?”
Xia Yiyang reacted like a high schooler caught texting in class—instinctively shoving his phone up his sleeve—and looked up.
When he saw who was standing in front of him, his face instantly broke into a delighted smile, and he jumped up from behind the counter.
“Brother Qin!” Xia Yiyang was overjoyed. “What are you doing here?”
“Coming to hang out with you, of course.” Qin Zaozao smiled and pulled over a chair to sit down. Today, his dreadlocks were tied back into a thick ponytail, and he was wearing a ripped T-shirt and floor-length trousers—the outfit made him look less like a fortune-teller and more like a rapper.
For some reason, Xia Yiyang just really liked him. He always felt that Qin Zaozao had this mysterious, otherworldly air about him—everything he said and did was fascinating. And most importantly, Qin Zaozao had successfully “predicted” Wen Sen’s deception with his tarot cards, which only made Xia Yiyang admire him even more!
The young man eagerly greeted him: “Brother Qin, have a seat and wait for me—I’ll go to the back and get you a bowl of ice jelly!”
“Kid’s got the right idea!” Living by the motto of never saying no to free food, Qin Zaozao shamelessly rattled off his order: “Load it up with extra fruit, and scoop me a big ball of ice cream too!”
The moment he finished speaking, a hand suddenly came down from above, landing heavily on his shoulder with a couple of firm pats: “Dear customer, please scan the QR code to order—pay first, then take a seat.”
“Holy crap!” Qin Zaozao turned around, clutching his injured shoulder. “Sheng Lin, do you have any sense of friendship at all? With our relationship, I still have to pay for a bowl of ice jelly?”
The man didn’t even acknowledge him. With his other hand, he steadily placed a bowl of sweet tofu pudding on the table and pushed it toward Xia Yiyang, tilting his chin: “Eat up.”
Qin Zaozao craned his neck to look. The tofu pudding in front of the boy was soft and tender, topped with simmered red beans that had been cooked to a mushy softness, and drizzled with freshly made matcha sauce… White, red, green—the colors were a feast for the eyes, making Qin Zaozao’s mouth water.
“Forget the ice jelly!” Qin Zaozao wiped the corner of his mouth. “What’s this? I want one too!”
Xia Yiyang answered: “It’s tofu pudding! Brother Qin, if you want, I can share half with you?”
He generously pulled two disposable spoons from the bamboo holder beside him and was about to hand one over when Sheng Lin stopped him.
“Xia Yiyang, eat your own. Don’t worry about him.” Sheng Lin said, then turned to Qin Zaozao. “This is a new item that hasn’t been released yet. It’s still in the internal tasting and adjustment phase—not available for sale.”
“Not~ available~ for~ sale~” Qin Zaozao pouted. “It’s just a bowl of tofu pudding—like I care.”
That’s what he said, but watching Xia Yiyang take bite after bite of that matcha red bean iced tofu pudding, Qin Zaozao was practically drooling.
…How come everything this kid ate looked so delicious?
Xia Yiyang’s eating manner was proper—one hand holding the bowl, the other holding the spoon. He’d bring the iced tofu pudding to his lips, gently sip, and it would melt on his tongue. The red beans had been simmered by Sheng Lin since early morning—quite a laborious process. To prevent burning at the bottom, they had to be stirred constantly while cooking, achieving a sandy texture while still preserving the individual graininess of the beans. The matcha sauce was even more technique-sensitive—dissolving the matcha powder in fifty-degree water and quickly whisking it with a specialized tool to create that rich yet refreshing bitterness.
As he ate, Xia Yiyang couldn’t help bobbing his head in delight.
What a little foodie.
“Like it?” Sheng Lin asked.
“Love it, love it!” The boy nodded vigorously. “Boss, when are you planning to release this? I’ll update the menu again!”
“We’ll see.” Sheng Lin didn’t give a definite answer. “The red bean paste is too much work to make.”
Qin Zaozao rolled his eyes beside them, thinking: This is the first time I’ve seen someone think making money is too much work. If it’s really that much trouble, then why isn’t it too much trouble to make it for Xia Yiyang?
“I’ve placed my order.” Qin Zaozao flipped his phone around to show Sheng Lin and urged him, “Ice jelly and tofu pudding combo with ice cream, big boss—go make it for me now!”
Only then did Sheng Lin get up and leave.
The ice jelly in the display case had just run out, so Sheng Lin had to go to the back kitchen to get a fresh bucket—the round trip took quite a while.
When he returned carrying a large bowl of dessert, he saw Xia Yiyang leaning in close to Qin Zaozao, the two of them whispering about who knows what.
Qin Zaozao had somehow produced a round, translucent crystal ball—flawless, without a single impurity—and it was rolling nimbly in his palm.
The young man was tall and lean to begin with, and his hands were much larger than average. His long, slender fingers played with that crystal ball with seamless fluidity, making for quite an elegant sight, lending him an air of immortality.
Worried about what nonsense he might be spouting, Sheng Lin slammed the large bowl of ice jelly down between the two of them, separating them.
“What were you two sneaking around gossiping about? Let me hear it too.”
Before Qin Zaozao could answer, Xia Yiyang spoke up nervously: “Shh, Boss—watch your words! We’re not sneaking around. Brother Qin is showing me his newly acquired magical artifact.”
Sheng Lin frowned. “…Magical artifact? This big glass ball?”
“What big glass ball—this is crystal! Crystal!” Qin Zaozao scoffed disdainfully. “I have no words for a philistine like you. This cost me twenty thousand yuan, specially imported from Italy, passed down from a European spiritualist family dating back to 1547…”
“Wait a second.” Sheng Lin cut him off. “Twenty thousand yuan to buy a crystal ball from Italy? Are you sure this isn’t a Yiwu special? If you’ve been scammed, I just so happen to know an officer at the police station.”
“How could it possibly be a Yiwu special!” Qin Zaozao retorted angrily. “This has international shipping records!”
Sheng Lin repeated slowly and deliberately: “International shipping records? Where exactly did you buy it?”
“Taobao, of course.” Qin Zaozao said airily. “I was browsing the page, and the moment I clicked on the link, I felt this intense energy wave blast through my phone screen and resonate powerfully with my soul. The energy wave was so strong that the ceiling light in my bedroom even flickered for a few seconds!”
“Wow~! That’s so powerful.” Xia Yiyang propped his chin on his hand, his expression full of wonder. He wanted to touch the crystal ball but held back, afraid of being “struck” by the energy wave himself.
Sheng Lin: “…………”
The man looked at Xia Yiyang with a complicated expression, worried that this kid was going to fall for some health supplement scam in the future—oh wait, before the supplement scammers even got to him, he’d already been cleaned out by telecom fraud. As for Qin Zaozao, Sheng Lin closed his eyes and thought about just turning him in to the police right now.
Qin Zaozao clicked his tongue. “Sheng Lin, I can tell by your expression that you don’t believe a word I said.”
Sheng Lin shot back: “Do you think there’s a single word you just said that’s worth believing?”
Qin Zaozao shrugged. With a flick of his wrist, the crystal ball suddenly vanished (Xia Yiyang: “Wow!”); with another flick, a purple fluorite pendant on a leather cord appeared in his palm (Xia Yiyang: “Wow wow wow!”).
“This lost little lamb,” the young man dangled the pendant in his hand, “how about we play a game?”
Sheng Lin: “What game?”
Qin Zaozao: “This thing in my hand is called a ‘pendulum.’ It can answer questions in your heart by sensing changes in magnetic fields. But its energy is limited—it can only answer simply with ‘yes,’ ‘no,’ or ‘neutral.’”
Sheng Lin got up to leave. “My life isn’t confused enough to need a rock to answer questions for me.”
But just as he finished speaking, the young man beside him raised his hand with sparkling eyes and said, “Me, me, me—I have a question!”
…What a super enthusiastic audience member.
Qin Zaozao smiled mysteriously. He rubbed the condensation droplets off the outside of his ice jelly bowl with his finger, then used the water to draw three symbols on the wooden table: a circle, a cross, and a triangle.
The circle meant “yes”; the cross meant “no”; the triangle meant “neutral”—meaning the answer was ambiguous or unclear.
Qin Zaozao held his hand flat above the symbols, letting the purple fluorite pendant hang naturally, and chanted: “Pendulum, there are three people here.”
A miracle happened—the pendant swayed and actually swung toward the “circle”!
Xia Yiyang: “!!!”
Sheng Lin: “…”
Qin Zaozao continued: “Pendulum, all three of us are the same age.”
The pendant swayed and swung toward the “cross” symbol.
Qin Zaozao went on: “Pendulum, among the three of us, two have slept in the same room.”
The pendulum’s answer was “circle” again.
Qin Zaozao boasted triumphantly: “See? Isn’t it accurate… hey, Xiao Xia, why are you blushing?”
Xia Yiyang was startled: “How does the pendulum even know that?”
Qin Zaozao: “I told you—it can sense magnetic fields. Sheng Lin and I used to be roommates, so our magnetic fields necessarily overlap to some extent.”
“…” Xia Yiyang realized, “Oh, you meant you and the boss.”
Qin Zaozao narrowed his eyes: “Otherwise, who else?”
The young master started whistling, his eyes darting around evasively.
“—A classic street scam.” Sheng Lin cut off Qin Zaozao’s interrogation and declared. “You’re controlling the pendulum’s direction with tiny finger movements. It’s not the pendulum answering the questions—it’s you, who already knows the answers.”
“Then let’s ask a question I don’t know the answer to.” Qin Zaozao said. “Pendulum, the three of us are wearing different styles of underwear—someone’s wearing boxers, someone’s wearing briefs.”
Xia Yiyang’s face instantly turned beet red. How could Master Qin ask such a private question? And besides, he really was wearing boxers today.
Come to think of it, ever since Xia Yiyang moved into Sheng Lin’s place, the biggest hassle had been changing clothes. When he’d been at the hostel, he could change freely in the eight-bed room without a care. But ever since he moved, he had to take his pajamas into the bathroom to change, and his clean underwear had to be “smuggled” out to the terrace to dry in the dead of night… He couldn’t really explain why he was so shy about it.
Back to the pendulum question.
Known: Xia Yiyang was wearing boxers.
If: the other two were both wearing boxers—the pendulum’s answer would be “false.”
Else: the other two were both wearing briefs, or one wearing briefs and one wearing boxers—the pendulum’s answer would be “true.”
But something strange happened. After swaying back and forth for a moment, the pendulum actually stopped on “triangle”—meaning the answer was ambiguous and couldn’t be determined.
Xia Yiyang: “Huh? What’s going on?”
Surely no one was going commando!
Sheng Lin scoffed. “You slipped up, Master.”
“Oh, I get it.” Qin Zaozao slapped his forehead in realization. “This question is indeed hard for the pendulum to answer—”
The next second, he actually pulled down his waistband and hooked his finger under a thin strap at his hip bone: “I’m wearing a thong today—maybe the pendulum didn’t count it as briefs?”
Before Xia Yiyang could even react, Sheng Lin’s hand suddenly covered his eyes. At the same time, the man’s other hand grabbed Qin Zaozao’s belt, gave it a sharp tug, and then tied it off one-handed—into a tight knot.
Qin Zaozao let out a pained yelp, nearly choked to death by his own belt: “Bro, are you trying to kill me?!”
The man snorted coldly. “What are you doing in front of a kid?”
Xia Yiyang pulled Sheng Lin’s hand away: “Boss, I’m an adult!! I’m not a kid anymore!”
Sheng Lin scolded him: “Even kids have more wariness than you—they know not to go around talking to strange people.”
Qin Zaozao muttered: “We’re both guys, what’s the big deal? We’ve even scrubbed each other’s backs in the bathhouse before.”
Sheng Lin ignored his so-called friend.
In the end, the underwear question went unresolved, and no answer was ever reached.
Although the pendulum didn’t give an answer, Xia Yiyang’s eyes couldn’t help drifting toward Sheng Lin’s lower half—speaking of which, what kind of underwear did Sheng Lin wear? He knew Sheng Lin had a small balcony in his room where he hung his laundry. Sometimes when Xia Yiyang passed by his bedroom door, he’d catch a glimpse of a few pieces of fabric swaying gently on the balcony.
Whether they were briefs or boxers… he hadn’t been brave enough to look closely.
For some reason, an image popped into Xia Yiyang’s mind of Sheng Lin wearing nothing but underwear. The man’s physique was strong and well-built, with distinct but not exaggerated muscle lines running down from his chest and abs to the most powerful part of him, hidden beneath a small piece of fabric—enough to make one’s imagination run wild.
“Xiao Xia? Xiao Xia…?” Qin Zaozao waved a hand in front of Xia Yiyang’s eyes. “I’ve been calling you for ages—what’s got you spacing out?”
Xia Yiyang coughed awkwardly: “It’s just been so hot lately that I’ve been feeling dizzy.”
Sheng Lin, overhearing this, asked with concern: “Should I turn the air conditioning down even more?”
“No, no need.” Xia Yiyang said considerately. “It’s so hot outside—if the customers come in and get hit with cold air, they might catch a cold.”
Sheng Lin gave a grunt of acknowledgment.
He turned back to Qin Zaozao, glancing at the pendulum in his hand: “Are you done yet?”
“Not yet, not yet—let’s do one last round.” Qin Zaozao grabbed a sticky note and pen from the table and handed them to Xia Yiyang. “Xiao Xia, I can sense your anxiety. Is there a question troubling you right now? Write it down—be sure to use the clearest, most concise wording—and I’ll have the pendulum answer it for you.”
Speaking of which, the sticky notes and pens had actually been Xia Yiyang’s suggestion to Sheng Lin.
These days, many trendy shops have customers write sticky notes and stick them on the wall, creating an impressive, colorful “sticky note wall.” These notes could be reviews of the food, hopes for the future, or simply a record of having been there.
Ever since they’d introduced the sticky notes, their shop wall had quickly become covered with them. Many people would pick up a pen and write down their current feelings; some even came specifically to take photos in front of the sticky note wall—and honestly, it made for some pretty good pictures.
Before this, Xia Yiyang had only watched other customers write sticky notes. This was the first time he was writing one himself.
He thought for a moment, then wrote down a question. He was about to hand it to Qin Zaozao when the man stopped him.
“You don’t need to show it to me—just keep it to yourself.” Qin Zaozao said slyly. “Just so someone doesn’t say ‘you already knew the answer before controlling the pendulum.’”
Xia Yiyang nodded and tucked the sticky note into his palm.
Qin Zaozao cleared his throat, repositioned the pendulum, and chanted to it: “Pendulum, oh pendulum, please answer Xiao Xia’s question—”
As he spoke, the pendulum began to sway back and forth again.
Sheng Lin watched coldly, waiting to see what other street-con tricks Qin Zaozao would pull this time.
The pendulum swung, swung, swung. At first, the motion wasn’t fast—but gradually, the amplitude grew larger and larger, as if truly being guided by an invisible hand. The young master’s heart pounded as his eyes locked onto the pendulum—yes, no, yes, no, yes…
And then, unexpectedly—the leather cord holding the purple fluorite pendant suddenly snapped. The fluorite slipped free from the string, hit the table with a heavy thud, and then rolled, rolled, rolled right off the edge!
“My pendulum—!” Qin Zaozao wailed in dismay.
The pendulum landed right in front of Sheng Lin. He hadn’t intended to get involved, but as luck would have it, after rolling off the table, the pendulum landed squarely in Sheng Lin’s palm.
The purple fluorite was cool to the touch—just as its name suggested, a naturally formed crystal with beautiful angular facets, clear enough to reflect the man’s face.
Sheng Lin toyed with the pretty stone in his hand and said, “Qin Zaozao, looks like your pendulum’s quality isn’t great.”
“The seller told me it was consecrated in Thailand!” Qin Zaozao pounded the table. “I’m definitely leaving him a bad review on the app!”
Sheng Lin: “…”
Another Taobao special.
Sheng Lin tossed the purple fluorite back into Qin Zaozao’s hand and turned to look at Xia Yiyang beside him: “Now you see how unreliable these street charlatans are, right? Everything’s bought off Taobao. You’ve been fooled once—don’t let it happen again.”
But unexpectedly, the young man had his head lowered, the tips of his ears burning red.
In his palm, he clutched a crumpled sticky note.
On it was written—
—Will there be someone to travel with me to all of Sichuan’s scenic spots?
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