Chapter 18 – She’s Different to Him

Song Kexia smiled politely at Fang Rou.
“Comrade Fang, hello. Since you’re here to eat with your friends, we won’t disturb you.”
She turned to Qin Muye and said, “Let’s go.”

Fang Rou hadn’t seen Qin Muye for a long time and wasn’t about to let him brush her off so easily.
“Brother Muye, it’s been ages. Let’s share a table later—I just happen to have something to tell you.”

Parking his bicycle, Qin Muye replied,
“I’m not used to sitting with so many female comrades. You go eat with your colleagues first—whatever you have to say, tell me later.”

Fang Rou could tell he was rejecting her, but after over a month without seeing him, she just wanted to be near him a bit longer. Still, seeing his stern face, she didn’t dare push too far.
“Alright… I’ll come find you later, then.”

The four people who came with her all looked over, whispering among themselves.
Song Kexia didn’t need to hear the words to know they were talking about her—Fang Rou’s interest in Qin Muye was too obvious, as was her hostility toward her.

But judging from Qin Muye’s attitude, he clearly wasn’t interested in Fang Rou.
It seemed she still had a chance.

Qin Muye took Song Kexia into the restaurant. It was fairly crowded, though there were still plenty of empty tables. On the wall hung two small blackboards listing the day’s specials.

A quick glance told Song Kexia the prices were steep.
Looked like she’d have to bleed a little today. Luckily, she had just gotten paid for selling her work, so splurging once in a while wasn’t too painful.

“What do you want to eat?” Qin Muye asked.

“I want the special mutton soup,” she said, pointing.

“And?”

“A sesame flatbread.”

In addition to two bowls of mutton soup and flatbreads, Qin Muye also ordered sauerkraut fish, garlic pork slices, and a bowl of shredded chicken noodles.

When Song Kexia reached into her pocket to pay, he pushed her money back.
“I’ll pay.”

“But I told you, this meal’s on me.”

“You said you were treating Old Zhou. Old Zhou’s not here, so I’m treating.”

He handed the money and coupons to the waitress, who looked about thirty and smiled warmly.
“Comrade, your partner really dotes on you. You should find someone as generous as this.”

Song Kexia’s face burned instantly. Before she could say anything, an angry voice snapped,
“They’re not a couple! What’s wrong with your eyes—how could you get that wrong?”

The waitress looked embarrassed. The man’s kindness toward the woman, their matched appearance—it had been natural to assume they were together. Who would have thought she’d guessed wrong?

But when she saw it was Fang Rou making a fuss, she grew annoyed.
“Comrade, the people involved didn’t even correct me—why are you so worked up?”

In other words: mind your own business.

Fang Rou flushed with anger and turned teary-eyed to Qin Muye.
“Brother Muye, you’re just going to watch her bully me like this?”

“I don’t see her bullying you,” he said, brows furrowed.

Fang Rou’s eyes shimmered with tears—he was defending an outsider over her.

The waitress, meanwhile, had clearly imagined an entire love triangle in her head. She shot Song Kexia a sympathetic look.

One glance was enough for Song Kexia to know exactly what the woman was thinking—her imagination was more dramatic than the real scene.

Not interested in being the center of gossip, she tugged Qin Muye’s sleeve.
“Let’s just find a seat.”

He nodded and walked with her to a window table—giving Fang Rou not the slightest face.

Fang Rou was so furious she nearly cried. Her colleagues quickly comforted her, some suggesting they switch restaurants. But she flatly refused, insisting on eating here. With no choice, they ordered.

After sitting, Song Kexia asked,
“That Comrade Fang likes you?”

“If she does, so what?” Qin Muye replied, leaning back and tapping the table with one finger.

“Childhood sweethearts, a perfect pair… but what you just did probably hurt her feelings.”

“Whether she’s hurt or not—what’s it got to do with me?”

He’d rejected her long ago, but Fang Rou acted like she couldn’t understand plain speech, showing up from time to time to do things that led to misunderstandings. It was a headache.

Hearing this, Song Kexia secretly felt relieved. She’d worried Qin Muye might like Fang Rou—apparently, she’d worried for nothing.

“Comrade Fang is so outstanding. If you don’t like her, I can’t imagine what your future partner will be like.”

His gaze lingered on her face for two seconds, making her heartbeat stutter. Was he… implying something?

Suddenly, Qin Muye chuckled.
“You’re very interested in this?”

“We’re just chatting. I’m asking casually.”

“I’m not interested in chatting about this with others.”

Fine, don’t talk—maybe that “future partner” would be her anyway.

Before she could speak again, the waitress called for them to collect their dishes. Song Kexia was about to stand when Qin Muye stopped her.
“I’ll get them.”

He returned with two big porcelain bowls, each full of mutton topped with cilantro, glistening with oil and giving off an intense, mouthwatering aroma.

Song Kexia took a sip—fresh and delicious. There was a hint of gaminess, but within her tolerance.

Across from her, however, Qin Muye hadn’t touched his.

“Why aren’t you eating?” she asked.

“Cilantro.”

“Mutton soup is best with cilantro!”

In these days, plenty of people couldn’t even get enough to eat, let alone meat. And here he was, refusing mutton over a bit of cilantro.

“If I pick out the cilantro, will you eat it?” she asked—waste was shameful, and she couldn’t finish two bowls alone.

“I’ll eat.”

She pulled his bowl over and carefully picked out the cilantro with a spoon.

Watching her quietly bent over his bowl, something in Qin Muye’s heart stirred. Apart from her stubborn streak, she really didn’t seem to have any major faults.

When the last bit of cilantro was gone, she pushed the bowl back to him.
“Eat.”

“Are you this considerate to everyone?” he asked suddenly.

“What?”

“If you were eating with someone else, would you pick out the cilantro for them?”

“No.”

Her head stayed down, but her cheeks slowly flushed, glowing like jade. Qin Muye quickly looked away, taking a spoonful of the soup—it was excellent, rich and fresh.

The rest of the dishes came quickly. Song Kexia had intended to eat modestly, but the food was too good—she forgot all restraint. She finished her soup, ate two flatbreads, and half a bowl of sauerkraut fish.

Almost hiccupping, she covered her mouth with a handkerchief just in time. Seeing him looking at her, she smiled a little sheepishly.
“The food here is delicious.”

“Easy to please, aren’t you?”

Her bright apricot eyes blinked up at him, watery and captivating.

Qin Muye stood. “Let’s go.”

Song Kexia followed in small steps, while across the room Fang Rou’s anger boiled over.

Who was this woman? Wherever she’d come from, Fang Rou would find out—and she’d be asking the Qin family directly.