Chapter 6: Return My Spicy Strips (1/2)

Shen Lingyao’s face flushed with joy as she pedaled swiftly.

Riding her petite ladies’ bike out of the school gate, she wove through the crowd, heading home.

“Stop a minute.”

Passing the central commercial city of the county, Zhao Qingfeng suddenly remembered something and urgently asked Shen Lingyao to stop.

“What is it?”

Shen Lingyao, immersed in inexplicable joy, stopped the bike and squinted, “I know, you must realize you’re wrong and want to treat me to ice cream, right? Go ahead, it’s good to admit mistakes and make amends, buy the ice cream, and I’ll forgive you today!”

The commercial city was the busiest mall in the entire county, with one of Shen Lingyao’s favorite ice cream shops on the first floor.

Zhao Qingfeng nodded.

Shen Lingyao wasn’t easily appeased, “Wait, one won’t do, I want two since you bullied me twice today!”

That was really a big ask.

Everyone knew the Bingdian Ice Cream Shop was somewhat upscale, and even the cheapest ice cream cost three yuan – a luxury in 2001 that most students couldn’t afford.

Zhao Qingfeng checked his pockets, which were emptier than his face.

He smirked, “Yaoyao, lend me some money, and I’ll treat you.”

Shen Lingyao was almost furious.

She grabbed Zhao Qingfeng’s ear, “You, Brother Qingfeng, using my money to apologize to me, I’ll tell Aunt Feng!”

Zhao Qingfeng’s mother, Feng Hongmei, and Shen Lingyao’s mother, Ding Xiang, were classmates and close friends, and the two families were very familiar with each other.

However, their financial situations were different.

Shen Lingyao grew up in a well-off family, her father being the office director in the factory, with a considerable income.

Zhao Qingfeng lost his father at thirteen and lived modestly, supported solely by his mother’s earnings, and had accumulated some debts.

They weren’t so poor that they couldn’t afford ice cream, but Feng Hongmei was a frugal woman.

She always said it was good for boys to endure hardships, often talking about how suffering leads to success. In reality, she was saving for Zhao Qingfeng’s future university fees and dowry.

Shen Lingyao verbally refused, but her hand disobediently opened her wallet and pulled out a ten-yuan note, handing it over.

Zhao Qingfeng shook his head, “Not enough, lend me three hundred more.”

Shen Lingyao puckered her lips, about to question why he needed so much.

Just then, Zhang Yang arrived huffing and puffing.

She immediately asked him, “Old Zhang, are you two planning something? I heard from classmates that the latest online games are very popular, you’re not about to buy game cards, are you?”

In 2001, online games were already taking shape.

For someone from a poorer background like Zhang Yang, only simpler games like CS and Red Alert were affordable, not games like Stone Age that required point cards.

Zhao Qingfeng quickly shook his head, “Yaoyao, today is a serious matter, lend it to me first, I’ll pay you back a hundredfold later.”

Three hundred yuan wasn’t a lot for Shen Lingyao.

She was more interested in Zhao Qingfeng’s reasoning.

The Brother Qingfeng of the past, though playful and mischievous, never bragged, so why was he making big claims today?

“Do you know how much a hundredfold is?”

Shen Lingyao flipped through her wallet, which had over four hundred yuan – half a month’s pocket money saved up. Her father believed in spoiling his daughter, but she seldom spent it recklessly.

“Thirty thousand.”

Zhao Qingfeng didn’t bother with the details and directly took three hundred yuan, running into the commercial city.

“I’m so mad!”

Shen Lingyao stomped her foot in anger, turning her gaze to a bewildered Zhang Yang.

Zhang Yang shrank back, “Why are you looking at me like that? He made you angry, not me, hey, don’t hit, oh my god!”

In a while,

Zhao Qingfeng came running back with three ice creams and a big plastic bag containing a red V-neck women’s thin sweater.

He gave two ice creams to Shen Lingyao and one to Zhang Yang.

Shen Lingyao, not in a hurry to eat her ice cream, grabbed the sweater to inspect it and sneered, “So outdated, your taste is awful, I don’t like this kind.”

Zhao Qingfeng chuckled, “This is for my mom, what, you want to be my mom?”

Life at home was indeed hard.

His mother hadn’t bought a new piece of clothing for many years.

Zhao Qingfeng’s memory was clear.

He remembered before transferring schools, his mother had taken him to the commercial city to buy new clothes. When they passed the boutique women’s clothing store on the third floor, his mother had taken a liking to this red sweater.

After trying it on for a long time,

She eventually put it down.