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Chapter 8 – The Ruined Fried Egg

After being rejected again and again, Xu Jingchu wasn’t in the best of moods.

The summer heat was already unbearable, and with her anger flaring, her mouth felt parched. She poured herself another glass of water and gulped it down.

The cool boiled water sliding down her throat helped her calm down. She had lived two lifetimes already; it wasn’t worth losing her composure over something so small.

She’d faced far tougher situations in her previous life, and she had solved them all. Compared to that, Lin Tingjun refusing to help her with her studies was nothing. Sooner or later, she would find a way to solve the problems on her own—or get him to willingly explain them to her.

Once she shifted her perspective, her mood instantly lightened.

Xu Jingchu returned to her room in peace. Qin Yajuan was already sound asleep, so Xu Jingchu turned off the lamp and lay down.

Meanwhile, Lin Tingjun stayed seated at his desk, trying to work on a half-finished problem. But his mind kept wandering. All he could picture were Xu Jingchu’s long, pale legs.

The harder he tried to concentrate, the more distracted he became. “So damn annoying,” he cursed under his breath, slamming his pen down before heading to bed.

That night, Lin Tingjun had a strange dream. In it, Xu Jingchu was smiling at him, drawing closer and closer. Not only did he not back away—he leaned forward.

Her delicate features magnified in front of him, her arms looped around his neck as she perched on his lap. Her legs swung slightly, revealing a stretch of fair skin.

And then—

Lin Tingjun jerked awake. With no choice, he changed his clothes and slipped out quietly to wash up.

He didn’t bother overthinking it. Instead, he casually brushed it off as just a “normal physiological reaction.”

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The next morning, Xu Jingchu was up earliest. She intended to cook breakfast for the entire family, Qin Yajuan included.

Her plan was simple: to exchange her labor for the opportunity to keep studying. Since Qin Yajuan was still a guest of the Lin family, taking care of her also counted as part of that labor. As long as the Lin family noticed her efforts, that was enough.

As for Qin Yajuan’s ingratitude—Xu Jingchu had her own ways to deal with her eventually.

“Jingchu, is breakfast almost ready?” Zhang Qiuyun came downstairs and found the table already set.

“Mm. Aunt Zhang, you can call everyone down now,” Xu Jingchu replied while flipping a fried egg. She was distracted for a second and the egg broke—it wasn’t a perfect sunny-side-up anymore.

That imperfect egg had only one rightful owner: Lin Tingjun. Who told him to refuse her request last night and then spout strange words? She’d give him the ugly egg, and once he ate it, she’d forgive him.

Xu Jingchu prided herself on being magnanimous. Still, even the most tolerant young lady had her petty streaks—this ruined fried egg was her little temper.

Ironically, Lin Tingjun found the egg delicious. Tender, springy, cooked just right. Far better than the ones from the canteen, which were always over-fried and rubbery.

But… why was everyone else’s egg a perfect sunny-side-up, while his yolk was broken and running everywhere like deserters on a battlefield?

Lin Tingjun lifted his gaze to Xu Jingchu, who was calmly drinking porridge. Was she… doing this on purpose? No way. He didn’t think he had said anything too harsh. Could she really be that petty? Perhaps he was overthinking it.

He shook his head. There was no point in dwelling on such trivial things. The food was tasty—that was what mattered. Once finished, he would get back to studying.

“Jingchu, thank you. Uncle and Auntie are off to work. During the day, you and Yajuan can watch TV at home, or go out if you like. Tingjun and Tingyu can accompany you,” Zhang Qiuyun said quickly as she slipped on her shoes.

“Don’t call me. I don’t have time,” Lin Tingjun muttered, retreating upstairs.

“This child…” Zhang Qiuyun sighed, helpless.

“It’s fine, Aunt Zhang. Yajuan and I have our own plans,” Xu Jingchu smoothed things over.

As soon as the Lin couple left, Qin Yajuan darted out the door. Xu Jingchu didn’t bother with her and instead went straight to the sewing machine.

“Tingyu, could you find me two old newspapers?” She didn’t dare touch Lin Jianbai’s reading materials—she had no idea which ones were important.

“No problem, Sister Jingchu. But why do you like newspapers so much? You’re young and beautiful, yet you’re like my dad and brother, always reading them,” Lin Tingyu asked curiously.

He really didn’t want his sweet, gentle Sister Jingchu to become cold and unapproachable like his brother.

“Not for reading.” Xu Jingchu flushed. “I need them for sewing.”

Relieved, Lin Tingyu happily carried over a stack. “Sister Jingchu, how can newspapers be used for clothes?”

He squatted beside her, watching quietly as she measured, folded, and cut.

“I’m afraid of ruining the fabric, so I cut patterns from the paper first. That way, I can reuse them many times,” Xu Jingchu explained.

“You’re so smart!” Lin Tingyu’s eyes sparkled with admiration.

Her cheeks turned pink. “This is just basic sewing skill… you’re making me embarrassed.”

“But even the basics, my mom and dad don’t know. Neither does my brother. You’re the best person in our house,” he declared, showering her with praise.

Lin Tingjun, who had come out to get something, overheard this. He deliberately let out a cold snort to tease his younger brother—that was his favorite pastime.

“Lin Tingyu, I got into university. Funny, I don’t recall you ever calling me the best.”

“That’s because you’re not the best!” Tingyu shot back without hesitation.

Xu Jingchu said nothing, but inside, she silently gave Tingyu a thumbs-up. Yesterday’s grievances now felt completely soothed.

Realizing that quarreling with a child would only lower his dignity, Lin Tingjun withdrew. If he had the time to argue, it was better spent studying formulas.

“I won!” Tingyu puffed out his chest proudly like a victorious general.

“Yes, you’re amazing,” Xu Jingchu praised, giving him a thumbs-up. “As a reward, you can choose a dish you want to eat today. Even if I don’t know how to make it, I’ll figure it out.”

Her confidence came from the fact that, in the 1980s, food options weren’t that broad. No matter what Tingyu named, she would likely know how to prepare it.

“I want dumplings! I had some once at Uncle Hao’s place—they were so good, way better than the canteen’s. I know you can make them!”

Xu Jingchu laughed. “From one dish straight to a whole meal? You’re clever for a little guy.”

“I’m not little!” he retorted immediately.

“Alright, big guy. Sister Jingchu promises.”

“Pinky swear, hang it high, no changing for a hundred years!” Tingyu stuck out his pinky.

Still a child after all. Xu Jingchu smiled softly. He was so easy to coax.

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Meanwhile, Qin Yajuan was wandering the streets. She had originally wanted to stop by the paper factory—maybe inquire about wages and, if she was lucky, run into Wang Yuejin.

She had even put on her new clothes for the occasion.

Unfortunately, Lin Jianbai and Zhang Qiuyun had left late, which delayed her too. By the time she got there, the gates were already shut. The old gatekeeper refused to say a word, and she gained nothing.

The June heat was sweltering, but she was too stingy to buy a soda. Thirsty and frustrated, she decided she might as well head back and watch TV.

As she walked along the river, she spotted a group of stylish young men and women gathered under the willow trees. They wore flared pants and sunglasses, looking every bit the fashion leaders of the era.

Qin Yajuan thought smugly, I’ve been reborn. I know the trends of the future better than anyone—who could be more fashionable than me?

Since she had no friends in the capital, and the Lin family clearly favored Xu Jingchu now, it was only natural to build her own circle. Connections could be useful later.

“Hi,” she greeted in English, stepping forward deliberately.

Sure enough, the group of bell-bottomed youths gave her a curious once-over. “Friend, you’re pretty trendy.”

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