Chapter 6: Commendation Banner +1

What does this mean?

Could it be that because she blocked Brother Xie, he got angry and locked her in the little black room?

But if Brother Xie was really angry, why would he still send her so much takeout? Did he have money with nowhere to spend it?

Then again, does blocking him mean Brother Xie would never talk to her again?

A gleam lit up in Shi Zhen’s eyes—did this mean she could now spend that five thousand yuan however she liked? And eat all the takeout freely?

Then what was she waiting for? Time to eat!

Shi Zhen opened all the takeout containers and laid them out on the table.

Barbecue and spicy hot pot side by side, mini cakes next to takoyaki and grilled cold noodles, KFC at center stage, four cups of milk tea—two in the left hand and two in the right. The diet meal was pitifully left on the floor, and the snacks were dumped into a box for leisurely nibbling later.

The food had gone slightly cold, and the indoor heating wasn’t very strong. The air gave off a feeling of solitude.

Halfway through eating, Shi Zhen suddenly felt sad. Back at home, although she couldn’t eat this well every day, Xu Ping would always find creative ways to cook her delicious meals.

A bit of acting cute would earn her a cup of milk tea, and a little more would get her some trinket she wanted.

Her parents had doted on her for twenty-two years. Because she was so well protected, she had grown up slowly. While others were already struggling and planning for their futures, Shi Zhen was still at home having everything handed to her on a silver platter.

She thought she could live like that forever—happy, carefree, and blessed.

But she hadn’t realized that everything she enjoyed was because her parents were shouldering her share of the burdens.

Now, suddenly thrown into the harsh realities of society, graduation had split her life in two like a sharp blade. She had stepped into the real adult world.

Shi Zhen knew she had to grow up someday, just like a young bird with wings gradually strong enough to fly. Even if the grown bird doesn’t push it off a cliff to learn to fly, one day it will choose to face hardships in order to survive.

Otherwise, all that awaits it is death.

Shi Zhen sat in her small rented apartment. The place wasn’t big, and the furniture was worn. As soon as the weather turned cold, the temperature inside dropped too.

Coldness always made people feel lonely, especially on such a dim afternoon.

Shi Zhen knew she was that young bird, tentatively taking her first step—a dangerous step.

This step would decide her future direction—whether she would fly toward the mountains or fall into the sea.

She looked at the chicken wings in her hand. What had Brother Xie written in the note again?

“My little niece can eat over 600 yuan’s worth. I got you over 700—don’t go hungry.”

She had never dared to spend so much money on takeout. Brother Xie really must be rich.

Once, Shi Zhen had vented by fantasizing: if only she were rich, she wouldn’t have to think about anything. She could do whatever she wanted and pursue whatever she desired.

She knew everyone had their struggles—even rich people—but wasn’t that still better than being poor?

Poverty was like damp wings, causing those with weak willpower to drift away from their ideal course.

If she really were rich, maybe she could’ve become friends with Brother Xie.

Shi Zhen smiled bitterly. Everything that had happened recently felt surreal.

She had finally made a choice for her future and then, by some strange twist of fate, met such an interesting person.

A rich guy who, when his money transfer failed, started spamming her with takeout orders.

Shi Zhen put down the food. Only when she stood in front of the mirror did she realize her face was covered with tears.

Her large peach blossom eyes were red, and her long hair was clumped together from the tears.

She turned on the faucet and splashed her face with a handful of cold water. Droplets slid down her cheeks like a string of beads.

Looking at herself in the mirror, Shi Zhen suddenly had a flash of inspiration.

Look at that—don’t I look just like a down-and-out heroine?

Anyone who’s read Grimms’ Fairy Tales must’ve wondered: what happens after the princess and prince live happily ever after?

Do they argue over daily necessities?

Shi Zhen had thought about this too, but she was more interested in Cinderella’s story.

The class divide between Cinderella and the prince—that was a mountain too high to climb.

Only with glass slippers could love be proven. And what would come after the “happily ever after”? Probably storms and chaos.

She wanted to write a Cinderella story, but one filled with thorns.

One where the prince lived among clouds, and Cinderella was stuck in the mud. Either he would fall from grace, or she would climb out, covered in filth and mocked by nobles.

In any case, if they wanted to be together, they had to overcome countless obstacles.

What a good story. Shi Zhen dashed into the bedroom and turned on her computer.

Creativity needed inspiration, and tonight, Brother Xie had become her muse.

The sound of the keyboard filled the room, and the takeout on the table was immediately forgotten.

The kid upstairs started parkouring again, and the old walls vibrated faintly with the noise. Shi Zhen pulled out the noise-canceling headphones gifted by Shi Tingwan and played some music.

From sunset to moonrise, the lights in Shi Zhen’s home stayed on.

A thought that existed in one moment might vanish in the next. She had to keep typing non-stop to capture the brilliance in her mind.

Morning sunlight spilled into the room, but Shi Zhen still hadn’t stopped her relentless writing.

At 7:20, she finally halted her typing. The warm sunlight washed over her like a rebirth.

She walked into the kitchen. Brother Xie’s takeout still sat alone on the table.

Luckily, it was winter, and the indoor temperature wasn’t too high—most of it was still edible.

Shi Zhen cleaned up the kitchen, put the leftovers in the fridge, and after freshening up, she suddenly heard a knock at the door.

Shi Zhen lived alone, and aside from Shi Tingwan, no one really came to visit. Who could it be?

She tiptoed to the door and heard a loud male voice from outside.
“Hello, your takeout is here.”

Shi Zhen was puzzled. “I didn’t order anything. Do you know who placed the order?”

“The order is under Ms. Shi. Maybe your friend ordered it for you. I’ve got more deliveries to make, so I’ll just leave it at your door. You can grab it in a bit.”

“Okay, thank you.”

The delivery guy’s footsteps faded. Shi Zhen waited a while before opening the door and bringing the takeout inside.

The note on this order read: “Savory porridge is better.”

No need to guess—this was also from Brother Xie.

She didn’t know how he got her address, nor why he kept sending her food, but… it didn’t feel bad.

Opening the bag, Shi Zhen found that Brother Xie had impeccable taste.

Inside was a large bowl of preserved egg and lean pork congee, ten big meat buns, a few side dishes, and fried dough sticks with soy milk.

This was from a national chain breakfast shop—known for great taste and hygiene. But, correspondingly, the prices were steep.

Shi Zhen had been to the physical store once, spent over a hundred yuan, and still left half-full.

It’s good to be rich. You can buy so many meat buns.

Shi Zhen took out her phone. Even though she was locked in the “little black room” by Brother Xie, she still sent him a message:

[Thanks for the food, Brother. Commendation Banner +1]

[Message sent, but was rejected by the recipient.]

Shi Zhen: …

For someone who had been eating instant noodles for over ten days straight, this breakfast was nothing short of a royal feast.

Shi Zhen devoured the food heartily. After downing several buns, she was already uncomfortably full.

Holding a steaming cup of soy milk, she returned to her desk, opened her computer, and continued typing.

Brother Xie’s food deliveries hadn’t stopped. They had simply shifted from mountains of food on the first day to a regular pattern of three meals a day, plus afternoon tea.

Breakfast was usually buns and hot porridge, lunch consisted of flavorful and well-balanced dishes, dinner was a low-fat meal, and afternoon tea included small cakes and the like.

Shi Zhen left home at eight every morning and returned at four. Lunch was always left at her door.

At first, Shi Zhen was surprised to find the takeout waiting when she got home. But over time, she grew used to the routine of carrying it in each day.

This strange yet peaceful life passed in the blink of an eye—more than a week went by.

Every night before going to bed, Shi Zhen would send Brother Xie a WeChat message:

[Thanks for feeding me, Brother. One more honorary banner added.]

Even though his reply was always the same auto-response that her message was declined, it still felt like she wasn’t freeloading his takeout.

That day, Shi Zhen arrived at the milk tea shop right on time at 8:20, just like usual.

Before she could get close, she saw from a distance that a crowd had gathered at the entrance, and their arguing voices echoed in the air.

Men, women, even an elderly lady with a little girl were pushing and shoving. Zhang Meiren and Chen Hong were surrounded in the middle.

—”It’s your milk tea that’s the problem! We’ve only had food from your shop these past few days; everything else was home-cooked!”

—”No more excuses. Pay up!”

—”This is the hospital report. Food poisoning! Do you think so many of us would make this up?”

—”Oh dear, I can’t take it anymore. My little granddaughter’s been vomiting for days! We’ve raised her with care, and now look at her! This isn’t over!”

—”My girlfriend’s still lying in the hospital. If you won’t compensate us, just wait for the police to shut this place down!”

…

Standing about five or six meters from the entrance, Shi Zhen caught most of what was being said.

Food poisoning? Compensation?

After a moment of shock, Shi Zhen realized what must have happened—had unsanitary conditions at the shop caused this food poisoning outbreak?

Seeing the front entrance was completely blocked, she decided to walk around to the back.

Just as she took a step, someone grabbed her arm.

She turned and saw it was Xiao Yang, the cashier at the front desk. “Xiao Yang? What are you doing out here?”

A bead of sweat slid down Xiao Yang’s forehead. His gaze shifted nervously toward Zhang Meiren before he finally spoke, making sure she hadn’t noticed him. “Shi Zhen, you better not go in.”

“What’s going on, Xiao Yang? What happened?” she asked.

He sighed and lowered his voice. “You know how our shop’s hygiene is. We’ve just been lucky nothing happened before. This time, so many people got food poisoning… You’re the milk tea barista. It’s better to lay low for a while.”

Shi Zhen had noticed the poor hygiene on her very first day.

Chen Hong rarely came by—maybe once a week to check in. Zhang Meiren basically ran the shop.

Once, the Food Safety Bureau came to inspect, and even before they arrived, Zhang Meiren got tipped off. She replaced all the moldy equipment with new ones in advance, making the shop look presentable.

But as soon as the inspectors left, she switched everything back.

Shi Zhen never found out who tipped her off.

Back then, she would’ve stood up for what was right—taken photos, gathered evidence, and reported the place herself. She was once full of ideals and passion, determined to uphold justice, just like her parents had taught her.

But now, she needed this job and the 3,000-something yuan salary. She couldn’t report the shop immediately.

Shi Zhen had already decided—she would finish out the month, resign, and then file a complaint.

She hadn’t expected so many people to get hurt before she had the chance.

“When poor, safeguard your own integrity; when successful, help the world.”

Had she made the wrong choice?

“Shi Zhen, what are you thinking? Hurry, go home and lay low.”

Xiao Yang tugged her arm, trying to lead her in the opposite direction.

“No, Xiao Yang!” Shi Zhen grabbed his hand in return, eyes filled with determination. “Let’s take this opportunity to report them. The shop’s hygiene problems will be obvious if they check the surveillance footage. They’ll all face justice!”

“What are you thinking?” Xiao Yang pulled his hand away and avoided her gaze. “With how strict food safety laws are these days, don’t you wonder how they’ve stayed open for so many years?”

“Zhang Meiren and Chen Hong are deleting the surveillance footage and cleaning up the shop right now. If you leave, you just lose a month’s salary. But if they turn around and blame you instead, could you handle it?”

So that was it—just run away?

“What happens if there’s no evidence left?”

“Then it’ll be just like before,” Xiao Yang said. “They’ll settle with money, then keep running the business.”

“They can still operate? Even after a food poisoning incident? This is serious!”

“What else? The victims get compensated. By the time anyone investigates, there’s nothing left to find. The shop gets cleaned up, and it’s business as usual.”

Shi Zhen had never experienced anything like this before. She didn’t know what to do, but her heart was pounding in her chest.

When she was younger, her sense of justice was praised. Now, those same actions were considered naive and foolish.

Looking at the elderly woman arguing passionately in the cold while holding her sick granddaughter—her silver hair and the girl’s pale face pierced Shi Zhen’s heart.

They were both just regular people at the bottom of society, people with little power. To protect oneself was already difficult enough.

But wasn’t it exactly these kinds of people who should look out for each other?

Shi Zhen tightened her grip around the phone in her pocket. Just this once, let her be childish again—let it be her true rite of passage into adulthood.

“Shi Zhen, where are you going?”

“While they’re still busy, I’m going to record the situation in the store.”

Shi Zhen took out her phone and waved it with a smile. “Might as well shoot a video, too.”