Xia Yiyang had never had a friend like Wen Sen before—someone so… unique.
Wen Sen was twenty this year, two years older than Xia Yiyang. Though he wasn’t old, he’d already lived a rich and eventful life!
His parents had divorced, and after his stepmother got pregnant, she’d take out any little frustration on him, so he’d dropped out of high school and struck out on his own. When Xia Yiyang asked if he’d been scared, Wen Sen patted his guitar and replied, “Not scared—I’ve got music.”
—God, what a rugged, wandering-swordsman answer!
It hit Xia Yiyang right in the heart.
Wen Sen’s current “job” was busking. The alleys across from the panda’s butt in Chunxi Road were full of young dreamers just like him—they’d set up their phones to livestream while singing and dancing, going from early evening all the way past midnight. The income from this “job” was unstable: on good days, he could make a few hundred; on bad days, he’d sing his throat raw and not even earn enough for a cup of milk tea.
His goal was to form his own band someday, but starting a band required rehearsal space, and he hadn’t found a suitable one yet. Still, he believed he’d make his dream come true one day.
Wen Sen also showed off his tattoos and piercings to Xia Yiyang, who couldn’t help staring even as he winced.
“What does an eyebrow piercing feel like?” Xia Yiyang’s heart itched—he thought having something sparkly on his face would be so cool.
He’d been a good kid for eighteen years straight. All his classmates were just like him—top students from elite high schools—and everyone’s understanding of “individuality” was pretty shallow. After the college entrance exams, the girls got manicures and dyed their hair, while the guys just got together to play games. So unoriginal.
“You? Forget it,” Wen Sen shot down his fantasy without mercy. “Even if you dyed your hair red and got eight piercings, you’d still look like a good student gone astray—a straight-laced kid forced into a life of crime.”
Xia Yiyang: “…”
Hmph.
“You’re from Beijing, right? Your clothes, shoes, electronics—they all look pretty expensive. How’d you end up crashing in a cheap place like this?” Wen Sen asked him.
So Xia Yiyang told him the whole story—how he’d set off on a “rebellious” trip, only to get cleaned out by a telecom scam, and how he’d decided to fend for himself by picking up odd jobs to earn money.
At that point, Xia Yiyang couldn’t hold back his grievances and launched into a full-on rant about Sheng Lin.
“This is my first job. I admit I’ve made mistakes, but I’m really trying to learn. I never make the same mistake twice—but my boss still treats me like I’m ice-cold.”
“Then just quit and find something else,” Wen Sen said. “You can leave whenever you want. What’s he gonna do—break your legs?”
“I can’t quit! If I lose this job, I’ll starve.”
“How is that possible?” Wen Sen offered him a suggestion. “Don’t you have a laptop, an iPad, and a gaming console? Find an electronics recycling shop—you could easily get a few thousand for those. That’d be more than enough to have fun until school starts.”
Xia Yiyang thought he was joking and answered earnestly: “My dad bought me those as a reward after the college entrance exams. If I sold them, what would I use when school starts?”
“Just have your dad buy you new ones,” Wen Sen said casually. “You’re not like me—no one to fall back on. You Beijing people all have money, and you’re the only child in your family. You got into a great university. Worst case, your dad scolds you a bit—he’s not gonna do anything to you.”
“…”
“Little young master, don’t be too good.”
This wasn’t the first time someone had called Xia Yiyang too “good,” but this time, it really rubbed him the wrong way.
He opened his mouth, then ultimately decided to keep it shut.
Wen Sen had a complicated family situation and a strained relationship with his father. Xia Yiyang figured that if he argued with Wen Sen about “not selling gifts from your father,” it would only poke at Wen Sen’s sore spots.
Never mind.
Making friends was all about finding common ground while respecting differences—there was no need to fight over every little thing. If Wen Sen weren’t such a rough, prickly character, he wouldn’t have stepped up to protect Xia Yiyang in the first place.
Xia Yiyang quickly let it go.
…
Because he and Wen Sen had stayed up talking so late the night before, Xia Yiyang overslept the next morning. By the time he rushed to the ice jelly shop, the first wave of customers had already arrived.
Their shop was right across from Rongcheng University on the snack street. Besides the students staying on campus over summer break, there were tourists coming and going all the time—they never lacked foot traffic. Within no time after opening, the place was packed. Several delivery riders in blue and yellow uniforms crowded around the counter, anxiously urging them to pack the orders faster.
Seeing so many people, Xia Yiyang felt a knot of anxiety in his stomach—and he had no idea if Sheng Lin would dock his pay.
He hurriedly threw on his apron and buzzed around the two aunties, lending a hand wherever needed. He did whatever they told him, not saying a word, as quiet as a cat. But he deliberately avoided the back kitchen, sticking to the cash register and the front of the shop.
Auntie Zhao said, “Oh my, why are you so well-behaved today?”
Xia Yiyang: “When am I not well-behaved?”
Auntie Li said, “I think it’s because he came late today and doesn’t want to get chewed out by the boss!”
The boy fell silent, his face flushing slightly.
Auntie Zhao reassured him: “Our boss isn’t like that at all! His mouth may be sharp, but he’s a good person. Back when I was dropping my grandson off at kindergarten, I was late by half an hour every single day, and the boss still paid me for full days!”
Unbelievable. Xia Yiyang couldn’t imagine Sheng Lin being that easygoing.
Just as the three employees were gossiping about the boss, Sheng Lin’s voice came from the back kitchen: “Xia Yiyang, you’re here? Then come to the back.”
The boy snapped to attention, his hand trembling as he scooped the ice jelly. He shot the two aunties a pleading look.
The aunties encouraged him with their eyes: It’s fine, Sheng Lin doesn’t eat people. What’s he gonna do—eat you for being ten minutes late?
Xia Yiyang thought to himself, Sheng Lin may not eat people, but one glare from him was scarier than being eaten alive.
But since he was under the boss’s roof, he had no choice but to drag himself away from the counter and shuffle his heavy feet toward the back kitchen.
He’d expected Sheng Lin to scold him for being late or make him peel mangoes and cut watermelon again. Instead, the scene in the kitchen caught him off guard: a deep stainless steel bucket sat by the stove, and Sheng Lin had both hands submerged in it, “washing” something.
When Sheng Lin saw Xia Yiyang come in, he couldn’t pull his hands out and just tilted his chin toward him: “Stop dawdling. Come learn.”
“?”
Learn what?
Xia Yiyang eagerly sidled up to Sheng Lin and saw that inside the deep bucket was a large gauze bag, packed densely with some kind of dark brown granules. They looked like the “seeds” of some plant—bigger than sesame seeds and not as dark.
“What’s this?” Xia Yiyang was extremely curious.
“These are ice jelly seeds,” Sheng Lin said, showing rare patience. “Have you ever wondered how ice jelly is made?”
Xia Yiyang blurted out: “You mix gelatin into water, like making Jell-O?”
Sheng Lin let out a frustrated laugh: “Great. Nothing but chemicals and artificial stuff. I should’ve known you’ve been hoping all along that the health inspectors would shut my shop down.”
“Hehe.” Though Xia Yiyang had been scolded again, he wasn’t deterred.
Ice jelly was a common summer dessert in Sichuan. As the name suggested, the main body was a translucent jelly that had no flavor on its own—it took on whatever you poured over it: brown sugar flavor, honey flavor, condensed milk flavor. On top of that, you could add all kinds of fresh fruits and dried fruits, and their shop’s “deluxe” version even came with a scoop of ice cream.
But if you asked Xia Yiyang how ice jelly actually set?
He’d never thought about it.
Every morning when he arrived at the shop, Sheng Lin had already moved the pre-made ice jelly, turtle jelly, liangxia, and other bases from the fridge to the counter. All Xia Yiyang had to do was cut fruit and mix the brown sugar syrup.
“These are called ice jelly seeds.” As Sheng Lin spoke, he showed him the gauze bag soaking in the deep water bucket. “They come from a local berry plant. The fruit is dried and crushed, and the seeds inside are used to make ice jelly. Watch closely—”
With that, Sheng Lin demonstrated. He held both ends of the gauze bag and kneaded it like he was washing clothes. The ice jelly seeds inside bumped and rubbed against each other, and gradually, a translucent viscous liquid (the jelly pulp) began to seep out of the bag! The pulp quickly diluted into the water in the bucket, blending in completely.
Xia Yiyang’s eyes lit up immediately: “That’s amazing!”
“Amazing, right?” Sheng Lin saw his curious expression and almost wanted to laugh, but held it in. “Alright, your turn.”
He stepped aside, signaling for Xia Yiyang to stick his hands in the bucket and try.
“Can I?” If Xia Yiyang had a tail, it would’ve been wagging nonstop.
“That’s why I called you in,” Sheng Lin said. “Otherwise, did I bring you here just to be a spectator?”
Xia Yiyang was itching to start: “Boss, if you teach me the secret recipe for making ice jelly, aren’t you afraid I’ll learn it and start my own shop, stealing all your customers?”
“There’s no secret recipe,” Sheng Lin said flatly. “The seeds are bought wholesale from the farmers’ market, and the ratios I learned from DouYin.”
“…Okay then.”
Xia Yiyang rolled up his sleeves, washed his hands, and put on disposable gloves—he deliberately slowed down his movements while putting them on, making sure Sheng Lin saw. He wanted to tell him: See? I’m smart. I never make the same mistake twice!
Then, following Sheng Lin’s example, he reached his hands into the deep bucket, trying to grasp the heavy bag of ice jelly seeds.
Oh wow, this bag was much heavier than he’d imagined. And there was a layer of slippery jelly pulp on top—he almost dropped it the first time he tried to grab it.
Sheng Lin’s hand shot out with lightning speed, steadying his wrist just in time to keep him from making a fool of himself on the spot.
Sheng Lin’s palms were broad, with well-defined knuckles, and incredibly strong. In comparison, Xia Yiyang felt like he couldn’t even “tie a chicken” with his bare hands, and his skin was far too pale—not manly at all.
Xia Yiyang had always been puzzled: the northern men the internet talked about—tall and big—where exactly were they from? Had he been given the wrong household registration when he was born? Or had aliens injected growth hormones into elementary school kids but forgotten to notify him? Could they please retroactively give him his 186 cm height, 48 cm shoulder width, and 75 kg body weight?
Starting today, starting with him, he refused to glamorize northern men!
As Xia Yiyang’s mind wandered, he kneaded the bag of ice jelly seeds, producing a rustling sound.
“Go easy,” Sheng Lin suddenly pressed down on his hand under the water. His grip was strong enough that Xia Yiyang couldn’t break free at all. “If you keep using that much force, you’ll tear the gauze bag.”
“…Oh.” Xia Yiyang suddenly felt his face grow warm.
Xia Yiyang was smart—he picked things up quickly and never just mimicked mindlessly. It didn’t take him long to master the technique of washing ice jelly seeds. He rubbed diligently for several minutes, working the entire bag until no more transparent jelly pulp seeped out, then stopped.
After the jelly pulp had fully mixed with the water in the bucket, Sheng Lin took out some pre-prepared clarified edible lime water and poured it in while stirring continuously.
Soon, the lime water and the jelly water underwent a chemical reaction—within just a few minutes, it had set!
Sheng Lin opened the fridge and placed the entire bucket of clear ice jelly inside: “Chill it for another two hours, and then it’s ready to sell.”
He closed the fridge and turned around, only to come face-to-face with Xia Yiyang’s still-excited eyes. The boy’s face practically screamed eight big characters: “NOT DONE YET! WANT TO PLAY MORE!”
Sheng Lin: “…”
He found himself speaking: “Before it sets, if you add pandan powder to the water, the ice jelly turns green. If you add dragon fruit juice, it turns red. If you’re not busy right now, make two more buckets in different colors—colored ice jelly sells better.”
“Yes sir!” Xia Yiyang snapped to attention with a crack, saluting Sheng Lin.
Sheng Lin: “Wrong. It’s the right hand.”
Xia Yiyang switched to his right hand with another crack: “Hehe.”
Hehe, huh.
Sheng Lin turned and left, leaving the kitchen to Xia Yiyang to mess around in.
He was the boss—if his employee liked kneading ice jelly seeds, then let him knead. As for the fact that ice jelly had to be made fresh daily and anything left over at the end of the day had to be thrown away… the boss didn’t plan on telling the employee that.
Sheng Lin walked out of the kitchen. The two aunties had just finished serving a wave of customers and had some downtime to chat by the counter. There was still plenty of ice jelly and fruit in the display—no restocking needed, enough to last until the afternoon.
When they saw Sheng Lin come out, Auntie Zhao asked him with a gossipy curiosity: “Boss, where’s Xiao Xia? Don’t tell me you made him cry!”
Sheng Lin felt helpless—Xia Yiyang had only been at the shop for a few days, and somehow the aunties already treated him like their own grandchild, always worried that Sheng Lin was bullying him.
“What would I scold him for? I was just teaching him how to make ice jelly.”
Auntie Li patted Auntie Zhao on the shoulder and said, “What are you saying? Xiao Xia is such a guai kid—how could the boss bear to be harsh with him?”
Sheng Lin let out a laugh of exasperation: “Guai? How is he guai at all? He was just scheming to put gelatin in my ice jelly.”
“Not that kind of guai,” Auntie Li said.
Sheng Lin: “…”
In Mandarin, the word guai means well-behaved, obedient, and thoughtful—like the term guai baobao (good little baby), reserved for well-behaved children.
But in the Sichuan dialect, guai carries a unique meaning.
—Being pretty and handsome is guai.
—Having a likable, adorable personality is also guai.
Auntie Li pressed further: “Boss, you still haven’t said—do you think Xiao Xia is guai or not?”
Sheng Lin didn’t answer.
Just then, the kitchen curtain was pushed aside, and Xia Yiyang popped his head out in a panic, babbling: “Emergency, emergency! Boss, boss! What do I do if I tore the gauze bag open?! I don’t want to pick out all those ice jelly seeds like Cinderella picking red beans!”
What a scatterbrain.
So, did this scatterbrain still count as guai?
Sheng Lin thought to himself… Yeah. Pretty guai.
(Guai= Good)
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