Jiang Cheng hugged Zhou Ying again, heart aching. "What a pity we never crossed paths back then; otherwise I'd have sneaked you down the back lanes after school. I never went home before dinnertime..."
Zhou Ying said sweetly, "Better not. My dad was super strict. I once hid a love letter in my bag—the boy wrote so well I couldn't throw it away. One phone call from Dad straight to the principal's office got the poor guy reprimanded. After that I didn't dare keep another letter."
Jiang Cheng looked stunned. "Guess it's good we met late. With Uncle that fierce, if I'd been one of your suitors I'd probably have been scared off."
Zhou Ying giggled. "I didn't actually have many suitors. Take you—you never even spoke to me."
Jiang Cheng didn't mention Zhao Jia.
After all, his taste in that previous life wasn't worth bringing up.
"You were too dazzling—what boy dared come near?"
"Stop teasing. I know plenty of girls had a crush on you."
Surprised, Jiang Cheng said, "How come I never heard about this good fortune?"
"You already had a girlfriend, and so devoted—girls didn't dare confess. I only overheard during breaks or in the restroom; quite a few paid attention to you."
"And why were you paying attention?"
Pinned by Jiang Cheng's gaze, Zhou Ying's face flushed crimson.
She didn't look away, though, murmuring shyly, "I thought you were tall, easy-going, always looked happy—so I'd sneak extra glances."
By the time they finished talking they'd reached their destination.
Hand in hand, Jiang Cheng helped Zhou Ying out of the car, feigning disappointment. "Happy? So you noticed me for my vibe, not my face?"
Zhou Ying burst out laughing.
Covering her mouth, she giggled. "I admit you're a bit handsome, but you look even better now. Can't say what changed—you're just hotter."
Jiang Cheng didn't deny it; before the System his looks had scored 85.
That was already good—dress up a bit and you'd look sharp.
But after the System's upgrade his score jumped to 93, putting him in top-god territory.
With that face plus designer clothes, he could make Young Ladies swoon without trying.
He changed the subject. "Here's the place—setting's plain, but the food's great."
Seeing tiny tables and plastic stools outside, Zhou Ying leaned to his ear. "One of those 'fly diners' the internet raves about. Looks authentic—must beat the mall chains."
Delighted by her foodie face, Jiang Cheng ruffled her hair.
The rolls-royce was drawing stares, so Jiang Cheng waved Wang Sheng away.
He led Zhou Ying to the stall and ordered, "Boss, one plate of braised pig intestine, one plate of steamed intestine, one cold yard-long bean salad, two bowls of cold noodles."
The vendor blinked at the rolls-royce kid eating street-side, then recognized Jiang Cheng. "Haven't seen you in ages! Off at college now? Not with classmates today—brought your girlfriend?"
"Boss, remember? Last time I told you I'd left for university."
"Right, right—college boy back with a pretty girlfriend, meeting the parents?"
Zhou Ying's cheeks blushed scarlet.
Jiang Cheng grinned. "Spare me, Boss—and add a small hotpot."
"Coming up—grab a seat."
Soon the chili-red Chengdu classics arrived.
While Jiang Cheng checked his phone, Zhou Ying licked her lips, lifted a piece of intestine and offered it like treasure. "Taste—still the flavor you remember?"
He opened wide; spicy, chewy fragrance exploded on his tongue. "Exactly the taste from memory."
He fed her a bite in return.
The two lovebirds played their cozy game, bite for bite.
Jiang Cheng didn't notice Li Yan at the market entrance, fruit bag in hand, staring in surprise.
After a long look she dialed.
"Hey, Old Jiang—your son's back?"
Jiang Jianming hesitated. "Aren't you the one at home?"
"He's not back. I'm at the market food stall watching him."
"Oh—must be craving it."
"He's with a girl, feeding each other."
A pause. "That punk took his girlfriend there?"
"What's wrong with here? Smells better than steak—she's eating happily."
"Got it. I'll head home—wait, is he coming tonight?"
"I'm asking you!"
"Forget it—he won't get lost in Chengdu."
"True—off to mahjong."
After hanging up, Jiang Jianming sent a wechat: "Coming home tonight?"
Before Jiang Cheng could answer another line popped up: "If not, stay safe. I'm in no rush to be grand-dad—your mom's the impatient one; I want two more easy years."
When they'd nearly finished, Jiang Cheng checked his phone and laughed wryly. "After this I'll go home for dinner."
"Too late—your mom saw you, now she's on her way to mahjong. You're on your own."
He sighed in resignation.
Zhou Ying asked, "What's wrong?"
He showed her the messages; she giggled behind her hand. "Come to my place?"
"Can your mom cook?"
Fang Yuan didn't look the domestic type.
Zhou Ying smiled slyly. "She's away."
Jiang Cheng's eyes widened. "Sure she's not home?"
"She left at dawn to visit Grandma's grave and fulfill a vow—won't be back till evening. I can cook."
"Why didn't you say? Let's go."
He texted Wang Sheng; soon a dark-green bentley continental pulled up.
After the rolls-royce left, a bentley arrived.
The stall owner blinked: What wind is blowing today?
The driver stepped out, handed Jiang Cheng the keys with respect, and left.
Clearly the car was also his.
The boss couldn't hold back. "Handsome Guy, this yours?"
"First time seeing such a beauty—mind if I shoot a clip for Moments? A Tycoon graced my stall!"
Jiang Cheng, familiar with the man, nodded. "Fine—just don't film us."
"Got it, got it—thanks!"