Chapter 36: Truly Adorable

The winter nights stretched endlessly long. The stingy convenience store owner refused to turn on the heater, and Lin Yiwei sat behind the counter, bathed in the warm yellow glow of a small lamp that softened her delicate features.

Under the counter, she flipped through a thick little book of IELTS vocabulary, diligently memorizing each word.

Since cutting off contact with Xie Bo, her life had become much simpler. She only needed to deal with Chi Xiyu daily, maintaining a lively friendship without expending extra energy guarding against anything.

Safe. Peaceful.

Yet sometimes, at night, insomnia crept in, and she found herself missing Xie Bo’s soft, expansive bed.

Closing her eyes, fragments of tender moments flickered through her mind.

Lin Yiwei was a girl with needs. She never felt ashamed of them; if boys could have such desires, why couldn’t girls?

Perhaps that was the only discomfort after their separation.

She hadn’t yet found anyone to replace him.

Clearing the chaotic thoughts from her mind, Lin Yiwei resumed memorizing vocabulary.

A group of boys in uniform burst into the store, laughing and joking as they entered.

They discussed the outcome of last night’s esports match, their voices crisp and melodious like bamboo flutes echoing through a mountain stream—young, carefree, and unburdened.

Innocent. Pure.

While silently repeating her words, Lin Yiwei wore a courteous smile for them.

The tallest boy was pushed forward by the others. He was broad-shouldered, resembling the popular Korean V-shaped physique, but his features were delicate—single eyelids, smooth and wrinkle-free skin, eyes deep black and clear, giving off the pure-hearted air of a gentle giant.

Surrounded by his friends, he was steered toward the counter, grinning as they announced they wanted some oden.

Lin Yiwei quickly put down her vocabulary book and picked up the tongs. “What would you like to eat?”

“Chu Ang, the big sister is asking you a question.”

“Yeah, tell the big sister what you want to eat.”

The boys exchanged mischievous glances, shooting flirty looks at Chu Ang, the tall one.

Embarrassed, Chu Ang gave them a pleading look to stop, but the teasing only escalated.

“He’s Chu Ang, the academy’s prized flower. Big sister, what do you think of him?”

“Are you guys annoying or what?” Chu Ang’s face flushed crimson.

Addict. To be addicted.

Lin Yiwei’s mind was still occupied with the vocabulary, oblivious to their antics.

“You choose whatever you want,” she said, noticing their hesitation. “Everything’s freshly cooked.”

Handing the tongs to Chu Ang, she waited as he selected some items and passed them to her.

She rang up the order and handed over the payment code, expertly mixing the oden sauce.

“Spicy?”

“Yes, more chili, please.”

Suddenly, a vivid image flashed in her mind—Xie Bo eating noodles in the small town… a guy who couldn’t tolerate even a drop of spice.

In no time, she finished preparing the sauce, handed over the oden, and went to the register.

The boys slyly slipped some napkins and snacks over, grinning cheekily. “Thanks, Brother Ang.”

Instead of quarreling, Chu Ang just paid together with them.

Carrying the oden, he left with his friends, who playfully shoved him and whispered among themselves.

Lin Yiwei resumed her vocabulary study, not paying attention until the electronic door chimed, “Thank you for coming.”

Assuming they had left, she continued silently repeating words until she glanced up and saw Chu Ang still there, sitting in the dining area eating oden.

She couldn’t help but notice that this towering figure, well over 185 centimeters, ate so politely.

A single box of oden, and he’d been eating for at least half an hour.

Lin Yiwei couldn’t resist sneaking glances at him.

His face was rugged, but his gaze gentle and warm, jawline subtly lifted, eyes bright and clear.

Sensing her stare, Chu Ang looked up and met her eyes squarely. Lin Yiwei smiled openly, but his gaze flickered away shyly, and he lowered his head, cheeks burning again.

Unbothered, Lin Yiwei returned to her vocabulary book.

Ambiguous.

He had been eating that box of oden for nearly forty minutes. When Lin Yiwei and her colleague switched shifts and left the store, Chu Ang finally mustered the courage to catch up to her.

Under the streetlight, his tall figure stood upright, hands in pockets, head bowed—a shy child before her.

“Um, actually... I wanted to ask if you have a boyfriend.”

Lin Yiwei vaguely recalled he must have bought things here several times before—his physique and looks made him memorable.

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” she answered truthfully.

“Then... can I get your contact info? WeChat or phone number, either’s fine.” Chu Ang’s cheeks flared redder.

She appraised his build—if a perfect score was 100, he’d easily get 80.

The day she met Xie Bo, in that dimly lit bar, she gave him 85 at first glance, but after bringing him home and seeing all of him, the score skyrocketed to 120.

The extra 20 points were for his gentlemanly consideration—waiting for her to arrive before pursuing his own desires. Lin Yiwei believed a man lacking such grace could never be an excellent partner.

Xie Bo had flawlessly struck every chord of her admiration for men.

Chu Ang’s V-shaped, slightly robust figure was not quite the balanced physique she preferred, but it didn’t matter—she wasn’t planning to get involved with anyone else anytime soon.

At least, not for the foreseeable future.

“Sorry, I...” she hesitated.

Suddenly noticing his dark uniform, she asked, “Are you from the police academy next door?”

“Yes, I am.”

Feige University’s northeast gate was just across the street from a police academy. Lin Yiwei’s dorm was close enough to hear their morning drill chants.

A vague intuition stirred in her mind—maybe Chu Ang could help her.

Though she hadn’t figured out how yet.

She quickly gave him her phone number, smiled warmly, and turned away without waiting to see if he remembered it.

Chu Ang pulled out his phone and stood at the street corner for a long moment until the slender figure of the girl disappeared into the crowd at the far end of the street.

...

Back in her dorm, Lin Yiwei checked WeChat and saw a new friend request.

“I’m Chu Ang—the silly guy who just added you.”

She accepted and saw his profile picture was an adorable chinchilla cat.

Curious, she browsed his Moments.

He shared his life willingly, albeit monotonously—daily physical training or reposts about esports.

Within minutes, Lin Yiwei had sketched a simple personality profile of this big boy in her mind.

He was a boy easier to handle than Xie Bo.

A ding sounded—Chu Ang sent the first message.

Ang: “Hi, sorry for being so forward earlier.”

Breeze: “No, I think you’re brave.”

Ang: “You must get this kind of thing a lot every day. [Scratching head]”

Breeze: “Not really, sometimes.”

Ang: “Do you add them all?”

Breeze: “Do you think I’m that free?”

Ang: “No no no, sorry, not what I meant.”

Breeze: “Because you’re cute.”

He replied with a shy cat emoji.

Ambiguous.

Lin Yiwei continued silently repeating words.

She knew his heart must be tossing and turning, full of turmoil.

Strangely, Lin Yiwei seemed to have a natural talent for giving a slap and then a candy—stirring hearts in just the right way. She had never studied this but just understood it.

Simple boys usually took the bait, but cunning, meticulous old foxes like Xie Bo did not.

Why was she thinking of him again?

She banished him from her mind and chatted with Chu Ang half-heartedly.

Breeze: “Is that cat in your avatar your pet mom?”

Ang: “My mom’s cat, six years old, named Little Cotton. [Pictures]”

He sent numerous cute photos of the cat from different angles. Lin Yiwei had only mentioned it casually, not really caring much.

She didn’t open the pictures and replied, “So cute.”

Ang: “Do you come home this late every night?”

Breeze: “No, my work hours are irregular, depending on my schedule.”

Ang: “If you ever get off late, I can pick you up.”

Breeze: “Okay.”

Ang: “Um... are you free this weekend? Want to grab some milk tea together?”

Lin Yiwei hesitated briefly before replying—

“Hmm, depends on my schedule, probably free.”

Neither a direct yes nor no, delaying gratification—another way to hold sway over hearts.

Likely, the next few days, he would anxiously await her reply.

Lin Yiwei, oh Lin Yiwei, you truly are a bad girl—so naturally bad, you don’t even have to think about it...

In any case, it was necessary to keep an ambiguous relationship with Chu Ang. Even if nothing romantic developed, having a friend from the police academy wouldn’t hurt.

He might even be able to help her.

They chatted sporadically until she said she was going to shower and ended the somewhat dull conversation.

...

During that time, Lin Yiwei’s relationship with Chi Xiyu blossomed into a “passionate phase.”

This arrogant yet not foolish rich girl, under Lin Yiwei’s persistent guidance, distanced herself from Xu Qianxi and her sisterhood.

The distancing from Xu Qianxi wasn’t really Lin Yiwei’s accomplishment. Chi Xiyu wasn’t stupid; she mostly just liked to play innocent.

She knew clearly how much Xu Qianxi and the others disliked her. Though they never said it to her face, they had gathered behind her back countless times to complain.

Why did they get close to Lin Yiwei? Not because Lin Yiwei had saved her or was obedient to her every whim...

Simply because Lin Yiwei had no other friends, standing alone on campus, unable to form cliques. Chi Xiyu was stuck with her as her only friend.

Chi Xiyu craved this exclusivity—it gave her a sense of security.

Xu Qianxi noticed the cold shoulder and tried a few times to chat with Chi Xiyu, inviting her for coffee and desserts with a smile, all coldly declined. Their atmosphere grew increasingly awkward.

...

Chi Xiyu grew tired of the usual consumption-driven entertainment with her sisterhood, so she asked Lin Yiwei to take her somewhere different.

Lin Yiwei brought her to the riverbank beneath the big bridge.

Wild reeds grew thick along the embankment, swaying and scattering with the wind. The place was desolate and quiet. Above, the subway line occasionally roared past, rumbling and shaking the gravel beneath their feet.

Voices echoed here, producing a hollow, ethereal effect.

Chi Xiyu loved this place—it was perfect for recording singing and dancing videos or live streams.

She confided to Lin Yiwei that she never really liked painting; her father had forced her to learn it. Singing and dancing were what she truly wanted to pursue.

Lin Yiwei understood why. Painting was a long process, niche in appreciation, and unlikely to win applause or fill the insatiable void of vanity. Singing and dancing, on the other hand, earned immediate applause with just a bit of showmanship.

That was why she secretly did singing and dancing live streams online, gathering praise and attention.

Chi Xiyu was a girl who needed to be seen and recognized—something she had lacked all her life due to her mediocre talent and average looks.

“I love it here! Whether taking photos or making videos, it feels so right!” After finishing a dance live stream and exiting the room, Chi Xiyu turned to Lin Yiwei. “How did you find such a great spot?”

Lin Yiwei didn’t mention that she and Lin Xie used to come here often for sketching.

For the wealthy sons and daughters of Feige Art Academy, sketching meant traveling to distant ancient towns and staying in expensive trendy inns.

But for Lin Yiwei and her brother, any place was good enough to set up an easel—the windy riverside beneath the bridge, crowded noisy grimy alleys, or bustling streets.

“If you like, we can come here often,” Lin Yiwei said with a smile, sitting on a pile of steel scrap.

“Yiwei, I’m so glad to know you.”

A subway train rumbled by, stirring up a fierce wind that sent clouds of reed fluff flying. Chi Xiyu took her phone from the stand and handed it to Lin Yiwei.

“Quick, take some videos of me in motion!”

Lin Yiwei took the phone and filmed Chi Xiyu from various angles as she struck poses and danced lightly.

Although Chi Xiyu claimed to love singing and dancing, she lacked talent. Her dancing wasn’t beautiful, limited to simple coquettish moves, not much better than clubbing.

Her live stream was also full of insults and mockery. Netizens didn’t care if she was a rich girl; if they wanted to, they would curse.

But Chi Xiyu’s mind filtered out all the negative comments, seeing only what she wanted, hearing only the voices she wished to hear.

That was a skill in itself, one Lin Yiwei admired.

“Xixi, you don’t like painting but win so many international awards—that’s amazing,” Lin Yiwei said with envy.

“Right? That’s talent,” Chi Xiyu answered proudly. “You just can’t envy that.”

“Yeah, I have none of your talent. Professor Mai said my paintings are too heavy emotionally; if too purposeful, art loses its original purity. By the way, did Professor Mai ever comment on your paintings?”

“Uh, maybe, but I don’t remember,” Chi Xiyu said impatiently. “I don’t want to talk about painting. Don’t interrupt my video.”

With that, she took the phone from Lin Yiwei and walked toward the riverbank to take selfies.

Lin Yiwei sat on a hollow concrete column beneath the bridge, expressionless, watching the girl by the river.

If—if she threatened Chi Xiyu now, forcing her to reveal Lin Xie’s whereabouts, even using her safety to coerce Chi Youhuai—would it work? Could she save Lin Xie?

Her mind raced, weighing pros and cons, calculating the risk of failure.

If, if it really was Chi Xiyu who had kidnapped Lin Xie, and she controlled her now, maybe there was a chance...

Though foolish, Lin Yiwei was growing restless.

Her blood pulsed faster, adrenaline surged. She jumped down from the concrete column, her steps heavy as she walked toward Chi Xiyu by the river.

The girl still held up her phone, adjusting beauty filters and snapping photos from various angles, completely unaware that danger lurked behind her.

Suddenly, Chi Xiyu’s phone rang. Irritated, she answered.

“Brother, you’re out of the hospital?”

“Are you still looking for the guy who hit you? Wasn’t there no surveillance?”

“How could it be Xie Bo? You can’t just guess because of your grudge.”

“No, brother, you can’t cause trouble for Xie Bo, you dare not!!!”

Chi Xiyu hung up and spun around, startled to see Lin Yiwei standing close behind her.

“Damn! You’re so quiet!”

Lin Yiwei suppressed her impulsive urge. “What’s wrong?”

“My brother...” Chi Xiyu stomped irritably. “He insists the guy who hit him that day was Xie Bo and wants to find trouble with him.”

“Does he have proof?”

“Of course not, just guessing, saying Xie Bo and he don’t get along. Seriously... Xie Bo wouldn’t do that, not with me around!”

She anxiously dialed Xie Bo’s number.

“Pick up the phone! Seriously!”

After several calls with no answer, Chi Xiyu sighed. Most of the time, she couldn’t reach Xie Bo; only he could contact her when needed.

“Yiwei, I’m heading back now. Let’s meet another time.”

“Okay, I already have plans with someone.”

“Who?”

“A guy I just met, from the police academy.”

Chi Xiyu smirked slyly. “Ohhh, I see. Then you should hurry up and go.”

They parted at the intersection. Chi Xiyu took a taxi home; Lin Yiwei boarded a crowded bus.

On the way, she pulled out her phone, opening a profile she hadn’t contacted in a while—Thin.

Her fingers hesitated as she typed a few words, then quickly deleted them.

Forget it—there was no need to remind anyone. Chi Xiyu would surely do everything possible to reach him.

She put her phone away.