Chapter 10

“How strong is it?” Qi Ning’s voice over the phone was clear and alert. Even though Chi Zhihan sounded somewhat anxious on the other end, she immediately focused on the key question.

Her composed tone helped Chi Zhihan settle down. She thought to herself that an adult wanting a drink wasn’t really a big deal.

“It’s homemade glutinous rice wine, around two or three percent alcohol,” Chi Zhihan replied after a moment’s consideration. “It’s just been opened, so the alcohol content might be even lower.”

“No more than 100ml,” Qi Ning said, seemingly typing something on her end. The sound of keystrokes filled the line before she continued, “I’ll print out a dietary list for you tomorrow. Foods marked on the list should be included daily, and anything not on that list should be avoided as much as possible.”

“Got it,” Chi Zhihan replied obediently, not questioning why such important information wasn’t provided earlier. She simply measured out 100ml into a small cup.

“Your number has been set as a priority contact. If you have any issues in the future, call me anytime and I’ll answer,” Qi Ning added.

“…Okay.” Qi Ning’s voice sounded unusually gentle, making Chi Zhihan pause and furrow her brow uncomfortably.

“We’re not targeting you. The person living across from you is extremely important to us, and we need to ensure everything is perfect,” Qi Ning sighed. “As for your mother’s situation, I’ll do my best to help. Once your term ends, I guarantee your life won’t be affected in any way.”

Chi Zhihan’s hand, holding the cup, froze mid-air. She bit her lip and, with her back to the camera, sincerely said, “Thank you.”

Qi Ning didn’t need to explain herself. The fact that she had said this much was already more than enough.

She didn’t want to ask anything else now. Lin Jingwu had been right from the start—wealthy people’s affairs were something she really shouldn’t pry into.

…

After setting down the wine cup, the bell rang once again in the quiet, spacious hallway.

Chi Zhihan patiently waited for the small window to open, then watched as that deathly pale hand reached out.

It still gave off a strong vampire vibe…

On the tray, besides a small cup of rice wine, there were two pink glass cups, crystal clear and delicate.

The hand paused for a moment, seemingly confused.

“The pink cups have berry wine jelly. I made it myself with raspberries and rice wine—it’s very low in alcohol. Green bean cakes aren’t good for the stomach when cold, so you can have the wine jelly instead,” Chi Zhihan explained, craning her neck to speak. The window was a bit too high for her height, and after explaining at length, she realized she was earnestly talking to just a hand.

She scratched her head, feeling awkward in the silence.

The hand remained equally still, not moving.

The atmosphere grew stiff. Chi Zhihan, on impulse, raised her hand and pushed the tray slightly toward that hand.

In the completely silent hallway, the sound of the tray sliding across the wooden windowsill was practically thunderous.

The hand jerked violently in surprise, then quickly grabbed the tray and closed the small window with a loud bang.

…

Chi Zhihan rubbed her nose—she’d scared them again…

Though, to be fair, it was the neighbor’s bloodless hand caught in the red door that was more frightening…

But still…

At least there had been some progress today.

Through that small crack, she thought she saw the pattern of his sweater—thick and gray-black.

His health must be poor, wearing such heavy clothing even with indoor climate control and heating.

Shrugging her shoulders, Chi Zhihan walked back to her small nest with light steps.

Finally, she could sleep peacefully.

…

Qi Cheng had been observing the cup of rice wine.

100ml wasn’t much, so Chi Zhihan had chosen a very small set of Japanese sake ware that looked quite miniature.

He didn’t care for green bean cakes, leaving them to cool on the plate after receiving them, but he’d been bothered by Chi Zhihan replacing the rice wine with barley tea.

He’d even troubled the security guard to help him ask for wine.

After that bowl of wonton soup, he had maintained a high interest in anything Chi Zhihan made herself.

Those simple, homestyle dishes that didn’t look too refined—things she described as “just something I whipped up.”

He reached out, poured a small cup, and took a tentative sip.

…The sweetness made him frown.

Feeling unsatisfied, he took another sip.

…It was unbearably sweet.

Finally giving up on this unfamiliar drink, Qi Cheng swayed as he stood up and crawled under the blanket.

Just one sip, yet a strange warmth spread through his chest.

Under the covers, Qi Cheng’s long eyelashes fluttered as he licked his lips.

Then his fluffy head poked out slightly, his gaze once again fixed on the wine cup on the tea table. Next to it were the pink translucent cups, their pink and white contents reminiscent of tacky shoujo manga.

…

His fingers, clutching the blanket, fidgeted uneasily.

Finally, he got up again, swaying back to the sofa. Alone and quiet, he alternated between sips of rice wine and spoonfuls of wine jelly.

So sweet… the wine jelly had the tartness of raspberries…

Both had sticky, cloying textures, filling his mouth with unfamiliar notes of wine and fruit…

He didn’t like it…

Yet his chest gradually warmed, and even his perpetually cold fingertips gained some warmth.

His hand never stopped, frowning with each taste, but never hesitating to bring more to his mouth.

Once he had finished all these overwhelmingly sweet things, Qi Cheng licked his lips again.

At last satisfied.

He lifted the blanket and crawled in, closing his eyes in the darkness.

He hadn’t even realized that his lips had curved up slightly, and his whole face had gained some color due to the alcohol.

So sweet… even in his dreams, he couldn’t help but frown with lifted corners of his mouth.

…

Chi Zhihan thought that after yesterday’s rice wine incident, her communication task would go more smoothly.

Instead, she received an even simpler menu for the next day, with just two words in the main text: 「You decide.」

…

Decide what? She cursed internally.

Then there was a small note: not too sweet, no rice wine.

The handwriting was tiny, neatly tucked in the corner of the half A4 paper, looking almost pitiful.

As if she had forced him to ask for wine late last night…

Unable to figure out whether the attitude from across the hall was positive or negative, and unwilling to let last night’s rice wine gesture go to waste, Chi Zhihan gritted her teeth, ready to take some risks.

Yesterday’s conversation with Qi Ning had inadvertently emboldened her. Since communication was necessary and the other party remained mysterious, she would have to take a more assertive approach.

“So…” Chi Zhihan looked up at the camera, waving the menu in her hand, “How about plain congee for lunch tomorrow, dumplings for dinner, and osmanthus rice balls for a late-night snack?”

No complex two-dishes-one-soup meals, no elaborate pastries requiring both presentation and taste—since she was deciding, keeping it simple seemed good.

If he didn’t like it, at least this might force him to communicate…

The black camera faithfully blinked its red light in silence. Chi Zhihan, now used to talking to thin air, hadn’t lowered her head when she noticed the usually stationary camera suddenly bob up and down twice.

…

She stumbled in surprise, swallowing hard.

“…You…” She swallowed again, asking carefully, “Does that mean you agree?”

The camera bobbed up and down twice more.

This method of communication was truly… something else.

Moreover, watching the usually silent black camera docilely bobbing up and down made Chi Zhihan feel strangely guilty, as if she were taking advantage of someone honest.

…

This was truly bizarre…

“Plain congee might not be filling enough.” Chi Zhihan started laughing nervously, trying to assuage her inexplicable guilt, “Sweet potatoes are good this season—how about sweet potato congee?”

The camera remained motionless.

Chi Zhihan bit her lower lip and suddenly had an inspiration: “I won’t add sugar, so it won’t be too sweet.”

At this, the camera finally bobbed up and down twice again.

“How about some light side dishes, like stir-fried water bamboo with shredded chicken and hand-torn king oyster mushrooms?” Chi Zhihan was getting into it, settling into a discussion pose in front of the camera.

The camera first nodded once, then shook twice.

…What did that mean? Chi Zhihan frowned.

“Should I add one more? I brought some homemade doubanjiang during my break. How about making pickled vegetables with carrots, cucumber, and bamboo shoots?” Chi Zhihan asked tentatively.

This time, the camera quickly nodded three times.

…This inexplicably cute behavior made Chi Zhihan’s heart flutter.

“Do you like the things I make myself?” Smiling until her eyes curved into half-moons, Chi Zhihan hadn’t even noticed that her form of address had changed from formal to casual.

The camera nodded again, with a smaller movement.

Was that… shyness?

“I didn’t bring many of my homemade things, and Manager Qi gave me a food list this morning that says to limit preserved foods.” Chi Zhihan went to her room to get the list that had just come through the fax machine, holding it up to show the camera, “For salty things like doubanjiang, how about we only have them once a week?”

Qi Cheng’s hand, which had been adjusting the camera, froze. The slight smile on his lips faded.

Chi Zhihan’s use of “we” left him stunned.

A tone like coaxing a child.

Perhaps just to build rapport.

But “we”…

He pressed his lips together and nodded the camera once more.

Yet the light in his eyes gradually dimmed. He had no “we”—his life was just his own.

You must take your medicine.

You must walk out on your own.

You must…

There was no “we.”