Lin Zhexia knew he wasn’t good at being human, but she didn’t expect he could be this inhuman.
She didn’t know how to counter for a moment.
She could only force out a polite greeting: “When did you get back?”
Having just showered, Chi Yao spoke with a hint of lazy weariness.
Still, it couldn’t mask his youthful voice:
“Half an hour ago.”
“Then do you think it’s appropriate to talk to me like this when we haven’t seen each other for so long and you just got back?”
“What’s inappropriate about it?”
Lin Zhexia accused: “Is that how a human talks?”
“I don’t speak human language,” Chi Yao lifted his eyelids, expressing a casual surprise, “yet you can understand me.”
“…”
“It seems you have quite a talent for languages. Next time, when the golden retriever downstairs barks randomly, come help me listen to what it’s trying to say.”
“……”
The conversation had hit a dead end.
If they continued, it would imply that she wasn’t human either.
Fortunately, Lin Zhexia had strong adaptability, after all, they hadn’t known each other for just a day or two.
She spoke slowly: “Let me ask you a question, and you need to answer honestly.”
As she spoke, Chi Yao had already walked past her, opened the refrigerator, and pulled out a can of soda.
Cold vapor continuously rose from the soda.
He held the can with one hand, three distinct-knuckled fingers gripping it, then curled his index finger and slipped it into the pull tab. Almost simultaneously with the “pop” sound of the can being opened one-handed, he uttered a single word: “Ask.”
“If I hit you right now, what are my chances of winning?”
“Ten percent.”
“Let’s hear it,” Lin Zhexia perked up her ears, “elaborate.”
Chi Yao held the can in one hand and placed his other hand on her shoulder, seemingly embracing her but pushing her toward the door. Lin Zhexia was quickly pushed out, then watched helplessly as this dog-like person blocked her at the doorway, lowering his eyes to look at her and saying: “Turn around and go home right now, turn off the lights, get in bed, and try to dream about me tonight.”
Finally, he even curled his lips and added, “Good night.”
Lin Zhexia returned home, showered, and tossed and turned in bed for a long time.
She still couldn’t get over it, so she opened the chat with “Chi Dog.”
She sent a series of beating emoticons to vent her anger—
[Hit you]—
[Pound your head]—
[Wielding a 10-meter knife, slashing wildly]—
[Ada]
…
Finally, she imitated Chi Yao, trying to sound cold: Good night.
After sending it, she quickly fell asleep.
She was someone who rarely carried emotions overnight, otherwise she wouldn’t have maintained a friendship with someone like Chi Yao for so many years.
After a night’s sleep, she was back to normal as if nothing had happened.
When the “Nanxiang Small Squad” sent a group message in the morning asking if everyone wanted to go to Chi Yao’s place to watch a movie together, she replied with a “yes” while biting into her fried dough stick.
The area where they lived was called “Nanxiang.”
Nanxiang was the name of the street at the entrance of their residential complex.
There weren’t many people in the group.
The main reason it was called the “Nanxiang Small Squad” was that Lin Zhexia had originally suggested that using the residential complex name would make it sound like an ordinary residents’ group, without showing much momentum, while using the street name sounded more like street bosses.
—This childish remark from Lin Zhexia’s elementary school days had been approved at the time, and the name was never changed, continuing until now.
“Mom, I’m going to Chi Yao’s place later,” Lin Zhexia said, “we’re organizing an activity today.”
Lin He and Uncle Wei sat across from her, eating breakfast.
Lin He knew these children were close, so she didn’t say much, only asking: “Chi Yao is back?”
The three of them sat together.
Lin Zhexia spoke more steadily than usual: “Yes, he came back last night.”
Wei Ping also politely said, “Perfect timing, I just bought a watermelon yesterday. You can take it over later, and everyone can share it.”
Lin Zhexia took a sip of soy milk, having almost finished eating, and prepared to go pack her things: “Thank you, Uncle Wei.”
Unexpectedly, before she left, Lin He didn’t forget to give her something heavier than the watermelon.
“Your holiday homework,” Lin He hurriedly organized the homework in Lin Zhexia’s room, “take it with you and work on it when you have time, so you won’t forget today’s assignment if you play too late.”
Lin Zhexia looked at the stack of work that had been torturing her for several days.
She hesitated and said reluctantly: “That doesn’t seem right.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“If I bring homework with me,” Lin Zhexia could already imagine how Chi Yao would mock her, “it would be embarrassing.”
Lin Zhexia tried to convince Lin He: “Think about it, it’s like bringing parents along when going out to play, it’s quite inappropriate.”
What respond to in the end?
Was Lin He’s firm and decisive “bang” as she closed the door?
For this impromptu gathering, Lin Zhexia was the first to arrive.
She lived closest to Chi Yao.
A few minutes later.
Chi Yao opened the door for her, looking like he had just woken up.
His hair was a bit messy, but messy as if deliberately tousled.
The air conditioning was set very low, and the cold air rushed out.
He lowered his eyes and glanced at what she was holding in her hands. After taking the watermelon from her, before he could speak, Lin Zhexia preemptively said: “See this stack of homework? I’m just someone who loves studying that much.”
“Even when I come out to play, I don’t forget to study.”
“…”
Chi Yao responded with an “Oh.”
“Today I’m going to do twenty pages while playing,” Lin Zhexia carried the stack of homework, trying to appear as composed as possible, “that’s my attitude toward studying.”
“That’s good.”
When Lin Zhexia heard this, she instinctively felt it wasn’t that simple.
Sure enough, Chi Yao’s next sentence was: “After all, having barely made it into No. 2 High School, you should show some attitude.”
You think.
You scored ninety points above the cutoff line.
Does that make you great?
Lin Zhexia thought through gritted teeth.
Of course, she couldn’t say these words out loud.
…
Because scoring ninety points above the cutoff was indeed very impressive.
“You’re awesome, you’re so capable,” Lin Zhexia followed him into the house, muttering to herself, “…why did you even apply to No. 2 High School?”
Everyone arrived quickly.
A total of five people came to this gathering, filling up the large sofa in the center.
Da Zhuang was the first to enter. He wasn’t sturdy; on the contrary, he was quite thin. He had monolids and looked like an energetic young man.
Everyone usually addressed each other as brothers. After Da Zhuang came in and called out “Brother Yao,” he turned and also said “Brother Xia.”
“Doing homework, Brother Xia? That’s not like you.”
“I think this pile of snacks is more your style.”
“…”
What did he mean by “like”?
This pile of snacks was what she had left behind and forgotten to take.
Lin Zhexia didn’t squeeze in with them, instead curling up in the large bean bag chair to the side with her homework spread across her lap. She raised an eyebrow: “Talking so much, do you want to share the burden for your emperor?”
With just that sentence, everyone collectively fell silent, not daring to tease her about her homework anymore.
The group huddled together and began selecting a movie.
After much deliberation, they finally chose an action film with gunfights: “This one’s good, full of passion, let’s go with this. My Brother Xia probably doesn’t have any objections either; she must be a passionate person too.”
After saying this, someone got up and turned off the lights.
The movie’s introduction began.
Lin Zhexia quickly finished the problem she was working on and looked up to see Chi Yao walking over with several cans of cold soda.
As he walked toward the living room, the blue light from the projector fell directly on him.
His eyebrows and eyes were already so strikingly attractive; now, with the cold-toned light inadvertently washing over him, his entire being exuded an unrivaled arrogance.
After Chi Yao tossed the sodas to the others, he walked to Lin Zhexia’s side.
Then, the sofa beside her sank.
Lin Zhexia didn’t want to squeeze next to him, even though the space was quite spacious: “Can’t you sit somewhere else?”
Chi Yao coolly asked: “Is this your house?”
“…”
Finally, he held up the soda in his hand and asked, “Want one?”
“Yes.”
Lin Zhexia was about to instinctively say “thank you,” but before the word “thank” could leave her mouth, the hand holding the soda suddenly changed direction and withdrew. Then that clear but constantly weary voice sounded again: “…Where should I sit?”
Lin Zhexia bit her lip, thinking this person was still as petty as ever.
She surrendered directly and cooperated: “Sit wherever you want. Where you’re sitting now is, well, quite appropriate.”
Having received her answer, Chi Yao released his hand and gave her the soda.
Lin Zhexia didn’t plan to drink it right away.
She still had one last step to complete for the problem she was working on. Having already noted down the conditions, she continued calculating in her notebook in the dark.
After the movie started, the first scene showed the protagonist trapped in a cave, making the lighting much darker.
The sound effects were startling. It sounded very intense.
Not wanting to miss the opening plot, she hastily finished calculating and marked option “C.”
She didn’t have any preferences for what movie to watch, having very diverse tastes. She enjoyed the action film too, becoming a human commentary beside Chi Yao, randomly guessing the plot: “This person just raised a death flag; he’ll definitely die in ten minutes.”
“He did die. I, Lin, am a prophet.”
“I see this fellow’s face showing signs of impending doom; he’s probably not far from death either.”
Another ten minutes passed.
Lin Zhexia continued babbling:
“…I’ve been waiting for so long, why is he still alive?”
Chi Yao rarely spoke while watching movies, giving off a cold and focused impression.
He wasn’t generally talkative anyway, and even when he mocked her, he always did so in a condescending manner.
At this moment, he was half-hidden in the darkness, with only a vague outline of his form visible. He was still wearing the same black T-shirt from last night, but his legs were so long they seemed to have nowhere to go, slightly bent. He wore black ripped jeans, and with his legs bent, his arms naturally rested on top.
But Lin Zhexia didn’t need him to respond; after all, whether someone replied to her commentary didn’t matter.
She could output one-sidedly.
So she assumed Chi Yao was focused on the movie and didn’t want to divert his attention to her.
Halfway through, she finally felt thirsty.
Fortunately, the soda had been sitting for a while and wasn’t as cold anymore.
The moment she picked up the soda, somehow, she suddenly remembered the scene of Chi Yao opening the can one-handed last night.
Opening a can with one hand.
It seemed.
Quite cool.
…
Maybe she could do it too?
Lin Zhexia imitated Chi Yao’s actions from last night, trying to open the can with one hand, but her strength was limited, and she wasn’t clear on the exact technique, completely missing the knack.
…
She… apparently… couldn’t do it.
Belatedly, she felt this behavior was somewhat embarrassing.
Fortunately, everyone was watching the movie, and no one noticed her movements.
However, just as she was about to give up and quietly pretend nothing had happened, a hand suddenly reached across from the side. That hand pressed on hers just as she was about to let go, three fingers gripping the can, then the index finger pressed on hers, guiding her index finger into the correct position.
That finger, with knuckles much more prominent than hers, applied downward pressure, lending her some strength.
“Pop.”
The pull tab caught on her index finger joint.
She successfully pulled open the soda can.
The soda emitted a faint “fizz” of bubbles.
A very light lemon scent wafted out.
“With your intelligence,” Chi Yao said as he withdrew his hand, “three textbooks might not be enough.”