Chapter 6

The awkward atmosphere in the room was finally broken by the sound of the doorbell—delivered by a courier.

The first package was a large box. The courier, sweating in the cold weather, wiped his forehead while complaining, “Miss, what’s in here? Even with two of us, it’s barely manageable.”

“Just books,” Song Wei replied apologetically. “Thank you for the effort.”

There was a threshold at the door, and the trolley had to be lifted. Two couriers stood outside, while inside, Chen Jubai stepped in to help. Knowing how heavy the box was, Song Wei also lent a hand.

Together, the four of them lifted the trolley inside. Song Wei pointed to an open room. “Just put it in that empty room.”

Once in the room, Chen Jubai helped lift the box off the trolley.

The couriers had to go up and down seven times to complete the task. Song Wei handed them drinks and even gave them a bag of peaches she had bought the night before.

She was exhausted herself, feeling a thin layer of sweat on her back.

After seeing the couriers off, Song Wei walked to the room’s doorway. Chen Jubai was still tidying up the scattered boxes and bags they had just unloaded.

When he had arrived, he had been wearing an overcoat. Now he had taken it off, leaving just a teal shirt. The sleeves were rolled up to make it easier to work, revealing strong, muscular forearms. The veins on the backs of his hands and wrists stood out with every movement.

The photos and his earlier appearance in heavy clothing had made Chen Jubai look tall and slim, but without the coat, his broad shoulders and narrow waist gave him the well-proportioned build people often describe as “lean in clothes, muscular without.”

Song Wei realized she had been staring for a moment too long. She quickly shook her head to snap out of it and walked in.

She handed him a bottle of water. “Here, have some water.”

“Thank you.”

Standing by the boxes, he tilted his head back to drink. Song Wei looked away.

“There’s so much stuff. Want me to help you organize it?”

“No need,” Song Wei glanced at the time. “The concert’s about to start. We should head out.”

“Okay.”

He was about to drive, but Song Wei stopped him. “We’ll need to take the subway. Parking there will be a nightmare.”

So, the two walked to the subway station together, squeezed onto the train, and headed for the stadium. As expected, the place was packed. After going through ticket checks, they found their seats on the floor level and sat down.

The plastic chairs were small, leaving people sitting almost shoulder to shoulder. Song Wei, having taken off her scarf, had no place to put it. As she debated whether to put it back on, a hand reached over. “Give it to me; I’ll hold it.”

Song Wei hesitated for a moment, then handed over her scarf. “Thanks.”

Chen Jubai folded the scarf neatly and placed it on his lap. The faint, elegant tea-like fragrance from the scarf filled the air, perhaps because of the proximity or the scarf being freshly removed.

Song Wei caught a glimpse out of the corner of her eye, feeling a bit embarrassed. She had assumed he would set the scarf somewhere, but he kept it on his lap. Given their current relationship, this seemed a bit intimate…

Still, taking the scarf back now would feel even more awkward. She could only watch as he silently held onto it.

The concert was set to start in about ten minutes, and the audience continued to stream in. Announcements over the sound system repeatedly reminded people of the rules.

Song Wei had attended many concerts with colleagues before, but it was usually with female colleagues or in a group of four or five.

Sitting here now, one man and one woman, especially surrounded by couples openly displaying affection, she finally understood the undertone Zhu Qingfei had hinted at—it indeed felt overly intimate.

Lost in thought, she was startled when Chen Jubai leaned over and asked, “Are you thirsty? I can go get some water.”

His closeness brought his presence right in front of her, his breath warm. She froze momentarily. Before she could fully process it, he was already about to stand. Song Wei quickly grabbed his sleeve. “I’m not thirsty. No need to go.”

Chen Jubai paused, looked down at her hand on his sleeve, then met her gaze. “Okay. If you need something later, let me know, and I’ll get it.”

After he sat back down, the atmosphere became slightly awkward. Song Wei tried to find a topic. “What made you want to come to a concert?”

“A colleague gave me the tickets.”

His bluntness left Song Wei unsure how to respond. “Oh,” she said simply.

“Do you not like concerts?” he asked.

“They’re fine,” she replied after a pause, then added, “I’m okay with anything, really.”

“Hmm, concerts are just a formality,” he said.

“…”

After another moment of silence, Song Wei asked, “Are you not busy today?”

Chen Jubai looked at her, a faint smile on his lips. “It’s Saturday. Even if I don’t rest, my employees need to.”

“Oh…”

“And I made sure to clear today.”

The words were straightforward, but his gaze was slightly intense, leaving Song Wei flustered. Her ears reddened, and she stopped talking.

When the concert began, their attention shifted, dissolving the awkward atmosphere of a blind date.

The crowd was especially enthusiastic, and Song Wei gradually got into the mood, singing along softly.

After about two songs, she noticed him watching her. Embarrassed, her face grew warm, and she stopped singing.

“Your voice is lovely.”

His words were barely audible over the loud music and chatter, but Song Wei caught them clearly. She bit her lip, feeling self-conscious.

After two and a half hours, the concert ended, but the audience lingered, reluctant to leave.

As they approached the exit, the crowd grew dense. Song Wei, caught in the throng, had no control over her movements.

Suddenly, a hand rested on her shoulder, steadying her. His voice, close to her ear, carried an apologetic tone. “Sorry, it’s too crowded.”

And so, she was guided out of the stadium under his protective hold.

Compared to the concert, this close contact felt even more intimate. Wrapped in her scarf again, Song Wei caught the faint lemony scent of his body—probably his body wash. It was clean and refreshing.

She liked boys who were clean, not necessarily handsome, but hygienic and tidy, with no odd smells.

Although she was being held, it wasn’t unpleasant.

Song Wei glanced sideways, noticing his hand resting on her arm. His long fingers were slightly curved, not directly touching her.

It felt strange, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on why.

As soon as they reached an open space, he let go immediately, seemingly uncomfortable. His gaze flitted across the surrounding buildings. “Should we find a place to eat?”

“Sure, my treat. You’ve been a huge help today.”

“Okay.”

The area near the stadium was crowded, so they took a cab to leave.

The restaurant he picked was tucked in an alleyway. Even though it was past the mealtime rush, the place was nearly full, suggesting it was popular among locals.

“I heard from my colleagues that their taro and pork intestines chicken is great. They also have sour fish and beer duck—very authentic. Take a look and see what you want to try.”

“You can decide. I’m not picky.”

Chen Jubai gave her a curious look, prompting Song Wei to respond, “What? You don’t believe me? I’m not just saying it to be polite.”

He chuckled and poured her some water. “Not at all. I’m just a little surprised. My aunt said your family is well-off, and your parents dote on you.”

“They do, but that doesn’t mean I’m spoiled. I’m not delicate.”

“I see.”

Song Wei laughed. “Oh? And what exactly do you see?”

“Living alone isn’t easy. My aunt said you used to work at Company A, one of those big tech firms. The intensity of that job must have been grueling—physically and mentally demanding, practically running 24/7. It’s not something a delicate person could handle.”

Song Wei froze for a moment.

Chen Jubai added, “Leaving that job was probably good for you in some ways. It’s important to take a break. People can’t thrive under constant pressure.”

Her voice grew soft. “I didn’t choose to leave. I was laid off.”

His tone was calm. “Only you can truly lay yourself off.”

She looked up at him, their gazes meeting and holding.

At that moment, something clicked in her mind.

After graduating, she had joined that company and worked there for four years. During that time, she never took a long vacation, throwing herself into her job like a spinning top. She kept going until the day she was laid off.

The company had a dynamic workforce policy. Her supervisor had tried to help her find another position, but at the time, she had been too caught up in her disappointment to seize the opportunity.

To be honest, Song Wei wasn’t sure what she wanted. Her clearest decision in life had been going to university far from home and staying to work afterward. Beyond that, she had no plan for her future. She buried herself in work without a long-term vision.

Perhaps deep down, she had always wanted to break free but was unwilling to let go of the progress she had made. In the end, the layoff became the reason she hit pause on everything.

She had laid herself off.

Feeling a bit unsettled, Song Wei changed the subject stiffly. “My aunt mentioned you also went to Nan’an High School. How come I don’t remember seeing you? What year were you?”

He hesitated before replying, “Class of ’15.”

Class of ’15—two years ahead of her. Song Wei thought back and vaguely remembered hearing about someone like him. During school events like flag-raising ceremonies or award assemblies, his name often came up alongside hers. People would mention a top student in the senior year.

But she had been too focused on her studies to pay much attention back then. Even if she had known the name, it had long since slipped her mind. Based on her aunt’s enthusiastic praise, it must have been him.

As her emotions settled, curiosity took over. “Can I ask why you chose to stay in Nan’an for university?”

Nan’an University was good locally but couldn’t compare to schools in the capital. For someone capable of impressing her aunt, staying in Nan’an seemed like a surprising choice.

She noticed his expression darken slightly. Thinking it might be a sensitive topic, she quickly said, “I’m just trying to learn more about you. If it’s inconvenient, forget I asked. Let’s eat first.”

Chen Jubai smiled faintly. “It’s fine. You deserve to know these things sooner or later.”

“My mother passed away when I was in elementary school. After that, my father changed. He was constantly unemployed, drinking, and rarely home. Later, he got involved in gambling, and the family’s savings were drained bit by bit. If it weren’t for my aunt’s family, I would’ve struggled even to attend high school.”

Song Wei was stunned, unable to speak.

“Things gradually improved. My father might have had a moment of clarity and stopped gambling. At that time, I could’ve chosen a better university. Scholarships, loans, and part-time work would have covered my expenses. But after the college entrance exams, creditors showed up with IOUs he had signed who-knows-when. In a fit of anger, he injured one of them severely. They demanded money in exchange for not pursuing legal action, or he would face jail time.”

“I couldn’t ignore it. Ultimately, I chose Nan’an University because they offered me a generous scholarship.” His tone remained calm, and he even smiled faintly at the end. “That’s it.”

Song Wei felt a pang of sadness. His brief explanation carried the weight of a young man’s crushed dreams.

“And now?”

“He hasn’t gambled since and works as a security guard at a residential complex. We don’t interact much,” Chen Jubai said earnestly. “Song Wei, this is my reality. I should’ve told you sooner. If you think this isn’t suitable, I’ll understand.”

Song Wei didn’t know how to respond. She admired his resilience in achieving success despite everything he’d been through.

However, she couldn’t ignore the potential challenges. If her aunt knew about this, she might not approve of their relationship, let alone marriage.

For now, she set that concern aside. Still, the atmosphere became noticeably subdued.

It wasn’t until their food arrived that things picked up slightly.

He had ordered a small portion of sour fish, taro and pork intestines chicken, and two servings of rice.

Song Wei picked up a piece of taro. Its texture was soft and smooth, and the chicken was flavorful and tender—indeed, hidden culinary gems were often found in alleyways.

Chen Jubai noticed her hesitation with the fish. “Not eating the fish?”

“I am,” she replied, though reluctantly.

“The fish here is freshly prepared, and the pickled vegetables are homemade—not too sour.”

She tried a piece of fish. The meat was tender but bony. After two bites, she gave up.

Chen Jubai smirked knowingly. “You said you weren’t picky.”

“…” Song Wei felt embarrassed and defended herself. “This doesn’t count as being picky.”

“Fish is rich in protein, trace elements, and DHA. It can lower cholesterol, support development, and slow cognitive decline. It’s easy to digest and absorb, making it great for children, the elderly, and pregnant women. The flavor here is mild, without any fishy smell. You should have more.”

Song Wei naturally understood the reasoning behind what he was saying.

Sometimes, you could say he was quite attentive. For example, bringing her to this restaurant clearly showed he had done his homework in advance. But his attentiveness wasn’t all-encompassing—like now, as he seemed to be trying very hard to convince her to eat more fish.

Just as she was about to pick up her chopsticks, he pushed a clean bowl toward her. Inside were a few pieces of fish. “I removed the small bones for you. Does that bother you?”

Surprised, she murmured blankly, “No… not at all…”

She glanced at him again, only to see that he had already lowered his head, focusing on removing more bones.

As if sensing her gaze, he raised his eyes briefly. Their eyes met. He asked, “What’s wrong?”

“… Nothing, it’s nothing.”

He lowered his head again, continuing to debone the fish. As he worked, he said casually, “Jiang Xiaoyu absolutely hates eating fish and vegetables. My aunt ends up buying fish oil or vitamins for her, but she doesn’t like those either—she always makes a big fuss about it.”

Holding her chopsticks, Song Wei looked at him steadily. “So, do you debone fish for her too?”

“No, I’ve never deboned fish for anyone else.”