Chapter 13: Can’t Even Blow Out a Candle for Me?

Xu Zhiqiao had been working evening shifts lately, but today, one of the staff called in sick, and she was asked to cover.

Not that she minded—she’d be killing time at the milk tea shop anyway.

The first few days were spent memorizing all sorts of recipes and ratios. Thankfully, she was fresh off the college entrance exam, so her memory was sharp, and she picked things up quickly. Even if she made the occasional mistake, it wasn’t a big deal.

The shop owner, Li Qi, came out from the kitchen carrying a plate after washing a basket of mangoes. “Take a break. It’s fifteen yuan an hour—what are you working yourself to death for?”

Xu Zhiqiao looked up from the ingredients chart. “So you admit it’s too little?”

Li Qi choked. “I was just being polite.”

“Your employee is working hard,” Xu Zhiqiao said. “Could you try being a bit more ambitious yourself?”

“…Excuse me?”

Damn.

She was managing up now.

“If you don’t expand and grow, how am I ever going to get a raise to twenty yuan an hour?”

Li Qi burst out laughing. “You really do have ambition.”

They each grabbed a fruit fork and started snacking on mango pieces.

“Hey,” Li Qi asked, “are you strapped for cash?”

Xu Zhiqiao glanced at him. “Why do you ask?”

“I’ve noticed you don’t leave even after your shift ends. That extra time doesn’t even count toward your pay—you’re just wasting it.”

“True.”

“I’ve got a gig for you,” he said. “Interested?”

“Let’s hear it.”

“I’ve got this relative with a kid who needs tutoring. I might have a degree, but honestly, that kid’s smarter than me. Plus, that relative is loaded. How about I take the job, and you do the work? We split the money—70/30. You get 70.”

Xu Zhiqiao paused, then said, “Make it 80/20.”

“Deal.”

“I’ll bring the kid here after class,” Li Qi said. “You can tutor her right in the shop. It’s perfect—time, place, everything works.”

The two of them huddled together, whispering back and forth as they hashed out the details.

Then, the bell over the shop door rang.

Xu Zhiqiao turned around, her customer-service smile automatic. “Welcome to—”

She stopped mid-word.

Night had fallen outside. The streetlights from the nearby university cast faint pools of light, their glow dimmed beneath the heavy canopy of trees.

A man stepped in, tall and straight like a bamboo stalk. His looks were so striking, everything around him faded into the background. The loose casual wear on him added a rebellious edge to his presence.

Li Qi stared in shock, stammering, “W-Welcome—”

“No need,” Zhou Cong said flatly. “I’m here for her.”

Xu Zhiqiao turned back to her charts. “What do you want?”

Zhou Cong’s jaw tensed. The piercing at his ear glinted coldly as his voice dropped, laced with frost. “What did I do to you, huh? You ignore my texts, don’t answer my calls—what’s your deal?”

Li Qi: “…”

Holy crap.

Holy. Crap.

“You’re mistaken, Brother Zhou Cong,” Xu Zhiqiao replied calmly. “We’re not allowed to use phones while on shift. Right, boss?”

Li Qi: “…”

Bullshit.

Trapped under both their gazes, Li Qi wiped his forehead. “I still have mangoes to wash. I’ll just… leave you two to talk.”

He disappeared so fast he might as well have been a magician.

The few square meters of the milk tea shop fell into silence, the brightly lit interior at odds with the dark world outside.

Zhou Cong stood there, and the room suddenly felt too small—like the air itself had grown heavy.

Xu Zhiqiao stepped behind the counter. “Would you like a drink, Big Brother?”

“Xu Zhiqiao,” Zhou Cong stared at her, eyes locked in. “I bought the rest of your shift. Come spend my birthday with me.”

“…”

A flicker of surprise crossed her eyes. She clearly hadn’t expected anyone to be this forceful.

“I’m not for sale.”

Zhou Cong replied evenly, “It’s not up to you.”

Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Can’t you just find someone else to hang out with?”

Zhou Cong’s jaw flexed. “What exactly do you have against me?”

“What exactly do you see in me?”

That shut him up.

Even Zhou Cong didn’t know.

He’d seen her the day she came to the Ji Family.

She’d been standing beside Xu Shu, cheeks still round with baby fat, wearing a pale yellow sundress that made her look like a soft little dumpling soaking in osmanthus syrup.

It had made his heart itch.

Then he heard Xu Shu introducing her to Ji Huailuo: “Baobao, this is your Big Brother. You two have to get along.”

Xu Zhiqiao had nodded. The breeze lifted the light fringe across her forehead, and Zhou Cong had thought—how could someone look that sweet?

He just wanted to poke her. Pinch her.

And then she was calling Ji Huailuo “Big Brother,” chasing after Xu Shu with “Mother, Mother”—her voice full of childlike repetition.

Zhou Cong had nearly laughed out loud. How old was she? Still babbling like a toddler?

But then she’d turned to him and called, “Brother Zhou Cong.” That one sentence had sent an itch right up his throat, and he’d coughed—hard—resisting the urge to pinch her cheeks.

It was like seeing an adorable pet—you couldn’t help but want to cuddle it.

Zhou Cong had been raised tough. Grandpa Zhou was strict as steel, never soft on failure.

He was used to setbacks.

But nothing—nothing—had ever left him more frustrated than Xu Zhiqiao.

It’s not like he was lacking.

The bell rang again—another customer.

Xu Zhiqiao left him hanging, turning to greet the newcomers, take their order, and process their payment. She even made the drink herself.

The customer had ordered hand-squeezed lemon tea. That one took effort. Xu Zhiqiao’s slender arms rose and fell as she worked the muddler like a rolling pin, pounding the lemon in the bottle with force.

Zhou Cong frowned. It had only been a few days, and her face already looked thinner from exhaustion.

He stared at her. The two girls who came in stared at him, their heads huddled together, trying to muffle their squeals of excitement.

After getting their drinks, they hovered. Finally, one girl summoned the courage: “Hi… could we maybe add your contact info…?”

Zhou Cong was in a foul mood. He didn’t even bother to be polite. “No.”

The girl faltered. “O-Oh… Do you have a girlfriend—?”

Zhou Cong turned, gaze cold and sharp, the kind that crushed people without a word. “You should’ve known to stop after the first question. Learn some self-awareness.”

The girl went silent, her eyes reddening. Her friend tugged her sleeve and quickly led her out.

Xu Zhiqiao didn’t bother to be polite either. “Can you not stay here?”

From Zhou Cong, she saw the exact same thing she’d seen in Ji Huailuo: that air of disdain, the way the high and mighty looked at ordinary people like they were ants.

Same circle. Same arrogance.

No wonder Ji Huailuo couldn’t stand her. He probably never imagined in his life he’d see someone this pathetic.

“Please leave,” Xu Zhiqiao said, growing blunt. “Don’t let our humble little shop offend your refined senses.”

Zhou Cong lifted his lashes, voice low and threatening. “Believe it or not, I could shut this place down tonight.”

“…”

She believed it.

Of course she did.

Zhou Cong had that kind of power.

He wouldn’t even need to lift a finger. Just one word, and someone would gladly do it for him.

Xu Zhiqiao bit her lip.

And suddenly, she understood what kind of person she was dealing with.

This wasn’t a classmate, a friend, or a distant cousin.

This was someone who could bend rules, take whatever he wanted—and there was absolutely nothing she could do to stop him.

“What do you even want from me?” she asked, voice shaking, eyes rimmed red.

Zhou Cong’s eyes darkened, voice low and quiet:
“Can’t you at least blow out a birthday candle for me?”