Xia Yiyang spent quite a while carefully handling his admission letter, taking over a dozen photos from every angle. He first sent them to the family group chat, then posted them on his Moments (carefully excluding Sheng Lin and Brother Qin, of course), and received many congratulations.
But his earlier excitement at receiving the letter had faded, replaced by a vague sense of melancholy. So instead of cheering him up, the congratulations only served to remind him, again and again, that he needed to come clean to Sheng Lin about his lies.
The young master listlessly put away the admission letter, placed it back in his suitcase, stared at it for a few moments, then closed and locked the suitcase.
He now felt like the cheating husband in a TV drama—sneakily hiding a gift for his mistress behind his wife’s back, terrified of being caught.
Sigh, man, your love is built on nothing but lies! Shame on you!
Not long after Xia Yiyang hid the letter, Sheng Lin returned from his morning workout.
He’d also brought back a chilled peanut milk congee specially for Xia Yiyang.
In Sichuan, all porridge-like foods were called “congee.” Especially in summer, a bowl of sweet potato congee with homemade pickled long beans, baby mustard, or young ginger was worth more than any royal feast.
But Xia Yiyang’s heart was weighed down with worries—how could he have any appetite? This morning, he only managed two bowls of congee, one egg, and three small steamed buns before putting down his chopsticks.
Sheng Lin could tell he had no appetite and asked, “Why so little?”
Seeing the young master so listless, Sheng Lin reached out and felt his forehead, worried he might be suffering from heatstroke again.
“I’m not sick.” Xia Yiyang brushed away his hand, making an excuse. “It’s just too hot. I don’t have much of an appetite.”
Sheng Lin made a mental note.
Sunday was always packed with customers—dine-in and takeout orders never stopped. They only had time to grab a bite after the noon rush passed.
Lunch was naturally cooked by Sheng Lin again: two vegetable dishes and one meat. The meat dish was freshly sliced cured sausage. Sichuan sausages were seasoned with chili powder mixed into the minced pork during curing. After steaming, the whole kitchen filled with the fragrant aroma of chili. One vegetable dish was corn kernels stir-fried with peppers, and the other was pickled long beans with minced pork—absolute must-have summer home-cooked dishes in Sichuan and Chongqing.
“Oh my, all three are such rice-pushers!” the aunties joked. “Boss, did you cook enough rice today?”
“Definitely enough.” Sheng Lin’s eyes glanced at Xia Yiyang as he answered. “Since it’s so hot, I specially made these appetizers—worried you might be suffering from summer heat.”
Huh?
Who exactly was suffering?
Xia Yiyang polished off three big bowls of rice anyway. He wasn’t suffering at all.
The young master always ate fast. After finishing, he wiped his greasy little mouth and left the kitchen to man the front counter.
It wasn’t that he loved work so much—the kitchen was simply too hot. The air-conditioned front hall was much cooler. Xia Yiyang sat behind the counter, greeting customers when they came for ice jelly and playing on his phone when they didn’t.
Only a thin fabric curtain separated the front from the kitchen, and the conversation from the back drifted into Xia Yiyang’s ears.
Of course, it was mainly the two aunties chattering away. Sheng Lin just listened.
Auntie Li: “Boss, with school starting soon and business so good, just the few of us won’t be able to handle it. You should hire someone else.”
Auntie Zhao: “Easy for you to say! The milk tea shop at the end of the alley has had a hiring notice up for a week and still hasn’t found anyone.”
“Huh? Don’t they have plenty of staff? Why are they still hiring?”
“Don’t you know? They hired six or seven young kids this summer, all of them swearing up and down they’d work long-term! And now, before summer’s even over, they’ve all quit—they got into college and have to go study.”
“Oh my! That shop owner is so petty—he’s probably so mad he’ll crush all his milk tea cups.”
“You said it! He cursed them out good: ‘Kids these days have no sense of integrity! I’m not running a training center—they spent two months clumsily spilling ingredients left and right, and just when I finally taught them how to do things, they all leave! Lying through their teeth—with that kind of character, they’re bound to stumble in life!’”
The aunties were just sharing neighborhood gossip, but the speaker had no ill intent while the listener took it to heart. On the other side of the curtain, Xia Yiyang listened to their conversation and felt like every word was aimed at him. In just a few sentences, he’d been pricked full of holes like a hedgehog.
Just then, Sheng Lin—who had remained silent—finally spoke up—
“What’s there to criticize about a few kids working summer jobs and earning money with their own labor? That shop owner curses people over something so trivial—clearly, he’s the one with the real character problem.” The man said coldly. “Getting into college and continuing their studies is a joyous occasion. If he’s making a fuss about it, is he afraid people won’t know he never got an education and has no brains at all?”
The disgust in his tone was unmistakable. The aunties fell silent for a moment, then erupted.
“Boss, that’s the first time I’ve heard you talk so much!”
“Boss, so you can curse too?”
Outside in the front hall, the young master…
Whatever Sheng Lin said after that, Xia Yiyang no longer had the presence of mind to listen. He curled himself up behind the tall counter, burying his head, twisting the hem of his shirt with both hands, forcing himself—absolutely forcing himself—not to cry.
Every word Sheng Lin had just said to the aunties came straight from the heart. And every single word matched exactly what Xia Yiyang had hoped he would say.
After so many days of living together day and night, Xia Yiyang naturally knew what kind of person Sheng Lin was. He knew better than anyone that if he brought the admission letter to Sheng Lin, Sheng Lin would genuinely congratulate him—he might even give him a big red envelope as a reward.
But it was precisely because of Sheng Lin’s “sincere congratulations” that Xia Yiyang couldn’t face his own lies.
Waaaaah.
The young master rubbed his tear-filled eyes and thought, Why can’t Brother Lin just be a little meaner to me?
If Sheng Lin didn’t take him out to play, didn’t research new recipes for him every day, didn’t rescue him from the police station when he was most helpless, didn’t take care of him when he was sick… then maybe he wouldn’t care about Sheng Lin so much?
He reached into his pants pocket for a tissue to wipe his tears, but his fingers touched something that shouldn’t have been there.
“…?” Xia Yiyang blankly pulled it out and looked at the fortune cookie resting in his palm.
This cookie was truly magical!
He’d been having such a smooth run of things that he’d completely forgotten about it. Then, when he received the admission letter yesterday, he’d found it under the sofa. And now—how had it ended up in his pants pocket?
The clear plastic packaging on the cookie had the word “Future” printed on it. Due to improper storage, the cookie was covered in cracks, and through them, he could faintly see the small slip of paper hidden inside.
His hand moved as if it had a mind of its own, and with a gentle squeeze, he tore open the packaging. The pocket-sized cookie was pinched between his fingers—all he had to do was crush it, and he’d see the fortune that foretold his future.
But what question did Xia Yiyang want to ask? What kind of future did he want? Did his future include Sheng Lin?
He held the small cookie hesitantly, unable to break it. Qin Zaozao had once told him that when he had a question in his heart, this little cookie would help him find the answer. But now Xia Yiyang had too many questions. He was afraid the cookie wouldn’t know which one to answer—and even more afraid that after opening it, he wouldn’t get the answer he wanted.
Just as he was hesitating, the ice jelly shop’s door swung open and a figure walked into the restaurant.
At the same time, a distinctly familiar female voice rang out: “Strange, there’s no one here? Where do I order?”
Unfortunately, Xia Yiyang was too unsettled at the moment to realize how familiar that voice was.
He hurriedly wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, reflexively stood up from behind the counter, and put on his professional smile, speaking loudly: “Welcome! You can order here at the counter. Would you like to try our new—Sis?”
“Xia Yiyi???” Jian Yun stood outside the counter, staring in shock at her brother who had suddenly appeared before her.
Her good little brother—the one who’d never done a day of housework in his life, the pampered, delicate young master with a temper to match—why was he in an ice jelly shop???
He was wearing a uniform work shirt with an apron bearing the “Summer Ice Jelly Shop” logo around his waist. Anyone could tell he was working here as a server.
For a moment, the cousins stared at each other across the counter, both wondering if they were dreaming.
Xia Yiyang had never expected to be caught red-handed by his sister. There were so many ice jelly shops all over Rongcheng—why did she have to walk into this one?
His hand relaxed, and the lucky fortune cookie he’d been holding fell to the ground, where he accidentally crushed it underfoot.
He didn’t have time to notice what was under his feet, and asked in panic: “Sis, what are you doing here?”
“I’m here because—wait, stand up straight! I should be the one asking you! Didn’t you come to Rongcheng to travel? Why are you working here?” Jian Yun couldn’t help but get anxious.
Xia Yiyang stammered: “I—I mean, I didn’t have anything else to do, so I thought I’d find a job to pass the time—like work-study, you know.”
“Xia Yiyi, do you even hear how ridiculous that sounds?”
“Huh?”
Jian Yun was practically laughing in exasperation: “First of all, Auntie said you took your entire little savings stash with you—enough to comfortably laze around in a hotel for three months. Why on earth would you need to work?”
“Second, if you want to work, you’ll have your whole life after graduation to work—until you feel nauseous just looking at your colleagues’ faces, until you want to run your boss over with a car. You’ve already got your admission letter. School starts in a month. Work my foot! Your only job right now is to have fun!”
She couldn’t help raising her voice, wondering if her little brother had been too sheltered by the family—how could someone willingly make life harder for themselves when they didn’t have to?
Xia Yiyang was flustered, desperately wanting to cover her mouth: “Sis, what school, what college entrance exam, what admission letter—shh shh shh! Keep your voice down! Let me explain!”
Just then, the kitchen curtain was pushed aside, and a tall figure walked out.
“What’s going on?” Sheng Lin had heard the commotion from the front hall and assumed Xia Yiyang had run into a difficult customer. But when he stepped out, he saw Jian Yun standing there. He paused: “Miss Jian?”
Jian Yun: “…”
She looked at Sheng Lin, then at her brother, and narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
She remembered that yesterday, Xia Yiyang had introduced Sheng Lin as the refreshment supplier for the event—meaning Sheng Lin was the owner of this place?
And if Xia Yiyang was working here, that meant he was Sheng Lin’s employee?
—Wait a minute. Could it be that her little brother was being taken advantage of by this ice jelly shop boss?!
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