Don't Give Your Heart to Your Nemesis - Chapter 8

Wen Xiaomian took a turn and arrived at the pedestrian street, a bustling night market alley where the lights shone brightly.

Open-air food stalls posed significant hygiene risks: high sugar, high salt, and poor-quality oil. Food safety was completely non-existent.

Wen Xiaomian disregarded them for being un-fresh and low-quality, while Yan Ruixing loathed them for being unhygienic and unhealthy. Though their reasons differed, the result was highly unified: these were foods neither of them ever touched.

Yan Ruixing looked at the neurotic man currently engaged in a “kill a thousand enemies at the cost of eight hundred of his own” tactic. “If you are not full, turn right at the next left and go to one of your family’s restaurants to eat delicacies.”

“Delicacies are so boring,” Wen Xiaomian said, sounding unexpectedly inspirational. “This Young Master wants to take root in the livelihood of the people and experience the life of the commoners.”

Yan Ruixing: “…”

Looking for hardship where there is none.

Yan Ruixing turned to leave. “Eat slowly, then. I will not disturb the Young Master’s inspection of the people’s conditions.”

His wrist was snatched. Wen Xiaomian’s tone shifted instantly. “Class Monitor, are you really that cruel? I am suffering from a grave illness; my life and death are uncertain. My final dying wish is just to eat night market snacks with you once.”

“…”

Yan Ruixing’s scalp felt like it had been hit by an electric shock. He suddenly regretted getting involved with this “dog.”

It was true that the surgery was grueling and the outcome uncertain, and it was not easy to remain this optimistic.

Yan Ruixing’s heart finally softened, but looking at the low-quality meal boxes, greasy bamboo skewers, and plastic bags, he truly found it hard to swallow.

Finally, they reached a compromise. Yan Ruixing said, “You go. I will wait for you here.”

From the moment they arrived, Wen Xiaomian’s wristband had been sending feedback, a tugging sensation signaling disgust, and the frequency was increasing.

Wen Xiaomian secretly rejoiced. “Fine, I will buy them and we will eat together.”

Yan Ruixing’s face was nearly frozen stiff. “Go on.”

Following the scent, Wen Xiaomian headed straight for the fried stinky tofu stall. From a distance, he shouted, “Want some stinky tofu?”

Yan Ruixing looked at the pitch-black, greasy sign. In his mind, he saw: high temperature, repeated frying, high salt and oil damaging the metabolism, hypertension, high blood lipids, and gastric ulcers.

He did not hesitate for a second. “No.”

Wen Xiaomian felt the tightening pain on his wrist intensify. “Alright, I will buy two portions!”

Yan Ruixing: “…”

Deep breaths. Do not get angry.

Wen Xiaomian carried the bag to another stall and repeated the process. “Pan-fried stinky mandarin fish, want some?”

“Don’t you dare!”

The pressure on the wristband continued to rise. Wen Xiaomian waved at him. “Alright, four skewers!”

“How about Luosifen?”

“Get lost!”

“No problem, two bowls!”

“Fried scorpions?”

“Wen Xiaomian!”

“Got it, eight skewers coming up.”

Just like that, feeling the feedback on his wrist shift from irritability and dislike to nausea, then to slight anger, great anger, rage, and finally humiliation-driven fury, Wen Xiaomian returned with his hands full of “trash.”

Yan Ruixing looked at the handsome man dressed in designer brands, holding several greasy plastic bags, standing before him with a look of pure bliss.

The “dog” was not just inviting him to eat trash; he was dragging him to sit on dirt-covered steps to eat trash.

Yan Ruixing: “…”

Do not get angry. Anger harms the body.

Yan Ruixing insisted on sitting on a thick stack of tissues. He watched as Wen Xiaomian held the fried stinky tofu in front of him. Gripping the bamboo skewer, he was caught between a rock and a hard place. His face was written with the question: How can I swallow something that looks like dog shit?

This idiot—killing a thousand enemies at the cost of eight hundred of his own.

Yan Ruixing decided to give him a way out. “If you really do not want to eat it, do not force yourself.”

“You are right.” Wen Xiaomian picked up a piece of stinky tofu, eyeing its greasy exterior. “So, I have decided…”

“To force you!”

Before he could dodge, Yan Ruixing’s jaw was pinched, and the tofu was shoved in. Wen Xiaomian covered his mouth forcefully; there was no choice but to swallow.

At this moment, adult logic vanished, replaced only by the determination to kill the other person.

Yan Ruixing regretted it immensely. Why had he only bitten him once back then? He should have bitten his neck raw so he could never plague the world again!

After struggling for a long time, Yan Ruixing finally broke free. Ignoring the food in his mouth, he grabbed Wen Xiaomian’s chin and hand-snatched three pieces of stinky tofu, practically stuffing his fingers into the other man’s mouth.

The two “children” chased each other around the car for a dozen laps before stopping. Sitting on the hood, they finally remembered they still had food in their mouths.

Having chewed the stinky tofu about seventy to eighty percent of the way, and having swallowed most of it, there was no point in spitting it out. They both tasted it slowly.

Wen Xiaomian stuffed another piece into his mouth. “You know, this stuff actually does not taste bad.”

Yan Ruixing pursed his lips. He usually ate a bland diet, making his sense of taste more sensitive, like a child raised on formula tasting human food for the first time.

It looked ugly and unhealthy, but it smelled fragrant.

Following the aroma, Yan Ruixing looked at the last piece in the paper bowl and popped it into his mouth.

During their scuffle, they had been eating from his bowl. Yan Ruixing glanced at Wen Xiaomian’s portion and held out his wooden skewer. “Give me another piece.”

Wen Xiaomian looked at his portion, which was covered in cilantro, and said, “In your dreams.” He stuffed it all into his own mouth. “Since you would not eat earlier, you can just drool now.”

Yan Ruixing: “…”

Wen Xiaomian handed over a plastic bag. “Eat this instead.”

Yan Ruixing sniffed it. It was an indescribable smell. “What is it?”

“I forgot. Taste it first.”

Yan Ruixing could not hide his disgust. “Why do you not taste it?”

“I bite it and then you bite it?” Wen Xiaomian’s tone was flippant and suggestive. “Are you looking for a ‘deeper’ level of communication with me?”

Yan Ruixing pushed him away. He sniffed the cake in the plastic bag; it was still hard to swallow.

“Don’t just smell it,” Wen Xiaomian said. “Maybe it is like the stinky tofu: smells bad, tastes great.”

After a period of psychological warfare with himself, Yan Ruixing finally convinced himself and took a bite.

Then, Yan Ruixing lunged for the trash bag.

“Blargh!”

“Why are you throwing up like that?” Wen Xiaomian hypocritically patted his back. “Are you pregnant?”

Yan Ruixing instantly lost the urge to vomit. He took the remaining half of the cake and shoved it into Wen Xiaomian’s mouth. “You be the pregnant one!”

As the flavor hit his tongue, Wen Xiaomian realized what was inside.

Houttuynia.

People who cannot stand this stuff hate it, but Wen Xiaomian happened to be the type who liked it.

“Yan Ruixing, you are so wicked.” Wen Xiaomian took another bite, intentionally acting disgusted. “Making me eat your saliva… if we were back in kindergarten, I would definitely get pregnant.”

“…”

Yan Ruixing took a deep breath and gave a sarcastic yet polite smile. “If you are pregnant, then give birth to it.”

“Are you going to raise it?” Wen Xiaomian asked.

“Otherwise, were you planning to run away with the baby?”

“Alrighty, hubby!”

Yan Ruixing: “…Blargh.”

Driven by the taste of the fish mint, Yan Ruixing almost threw up the stinky tofu as well. “Shut your dog mouth and give me water!”

Wen Xiaomian handed him a Coke.

High-sugar carbonated soda; Yan Ruixing never drank it. “I said I want water.”

“This is all there is. Do not drink if you are not thirsty.”

Yan Ruixing ignored his nonsense, reached into Wen Xiaomian’s outer pocket, pulled out a bottle of coconut water, and gulped it down. However, the pungent fishy smell was hard to cover with the light coconut water; Yan Ruixing continued to gag.

Wen Xiaomian patted his back again and handed him a steaming hot pie. “Eat this to suppress it.”

Seeing him not take it, Wen Xiaomian said, “Strawberry pie. It is sweet.”

Yan Ruixing sniffed it, ensuring there was no problem before taking a bite. The sweet taste quickly replaced the fishy scent.

Wen Xiaomian looked at his profile. “Do you like it?”

Yan Ruixing took another bite. “It is okay.”

Wen Xiaomian only believed the happy feedback from the wristband. “I knew it; you definitely like it.”

“I do not.” Yan Ruixing took another bite.

Wen Xiaomian thought: Quit pretending. “Back at the restaurant, you ate the most strawberry cake.”

“Then why did you only bring this out now?”

“I bought it for myself. I was going to sneak it at home,” Wen Xiaomian said cheekily. “But I suddenly had a change of heart.”

“Then thank you very much,” Yan Ruixing forced a fake smile. “Good Samaritan.”

“You are welcome. After all, nobody would have guessed that besides your cilantro allergy, you cannot eat fish mint either.”

Yan Ruixing turned around. “How did you know?”

Wen Xiaomian said, “Back in ninth grade, I was the one who put cilantro in your cup.”

That had caused Yan Ruixing to have an allergic reaction and take three days off, missing his monthly exams.

“So, you did not give me your portion of stinky tofu because it was covered in cilantro?”

“What can I do? I am in a low position now and have to ask favors from you.” Wen Xiaomian sighed dramatically. “With a petty person like you, if I do not coax you a bit, you might actually ‘accidentally’ drop a scalpel into my brain.”

Yan Ruixing did not know whether to be angry or praise his attentiveness. “Wen Xiaomian, sometimes you are truly despicable.”

“Despicability is mutual, is it not? We have been classmates for years; who else do I have a bad relationship with besides you?” Wen Xiaomian said. “All along, you are the one who provoked me.”

“If you did not smoke, cause trouble, sleep in class, run wild during breaks, show up late, leave early, and lead your classmates into nonsense, would I have bothered with you?”

“It is more than that. You even snatched away the girls who liked me. Do you think that is reasonable?”

On the eve of the college entrance exam, a girl from the next class had given Wen Xiaomian a love letter. It should not have been a big deal, but the next day, Yan Ruixing was seen everywhere with the girl, walking her home every day until graduation.

“Are you talking about Zhang Jingru?”

“Who knows.” Wen Xiaomian curled his lip. “I am not interested in your ex-girlfriend.”

“…That was my younger sister.”

“Even if she was your sister…” Wen Xiaomian turned and blinked. “Your… what sister?”

“My maternal aunt’s daughter.”

Wen Xiaomian: “…”

Yan Ruixing continued, “I told my aunt about her writing you a love letter. My aunt asked me to keep an eye on her every day.”

Wen Xiaomian actually laughed. “Yan Ruixing, look at yourself. Is anything you do human?”

“The school strictly forbade early dating. Adolescents are mentally immature and easily go astray. At that age, one should put studies first.”

Wen Xiaomian found it truly incomprehensible. “Who says you can only study in your teens? It is a waste not to enjoy your youth to the fullest.”

Their values were incompatible. Yan Ruixing did not want to argue; he took a bite of the strawberry pie and could not be bothered to fight.

Wen Xiaomian recalled their middle school years, his head full of things to say. “You are just an emotionless machine raised by your father. You do not know anything.”

Yan Ruixing’s father was the Dean of the high school department, a more severe version of Yan Ruixing himself, known by everyone as the “Cold-Faced Yama.”

“I am emotionless, and I do not understand your so-called emotions. But even being emotionless is better than being hurt by emotions.”

“It is just dating, not murder or arson,” Wen Xiaomian dismissed it. “Making a mountain out of a molehill.”

“Tang Mi.”

“Do not change the subject.”

Yan Ruixing clenched his fist, his voice carrying an imperceptible tremor. “Have you forgotten Tang Mi?”

Wen Xiaomian took a few seconds to react.

Tang Mi was once their classmate. In ninth grade, she fainted during physical education class due to heavy bleeding. The hospital check-up revealed it was an ectopic pregnancy. With the high school entrance exams looming, she was not only forced to drop out but almost lost her life.

Tang Mi was the Class Academic Secretary. Half a month prior, she and Yan Ruixing had both secured early admission to the high school department.

Before that, Yan Ruixing had discovered she was getting close to a man from outside school. Tang Mi begged Yan Ruixing to keep it a secret; if the school found out, her early admission would be revoked.

Tang Mi promised to break up, and Yan Ruixing agreed.

After the incident, Yan Ruixing found out that Tang Mi was only one month pregnant, yet he had discovered her “early dating” three months prior.

Many times, Yan Ruixing wondered if he had not kept the secret three months ago, would the outcome have been different?

Wen Xiaomian was speechless. Though he could not understand Yan Ruixing’s mindset, he could not criticize him on this matter.

“Fine, the Class Monitor acted out of the goodness of his heart,” Wen Xiaomian gave a dry laugh, thinking to himself: Even if it was pretty stupid.

It sounded like praise, but Yan Ruixing did not feel much better. “I have something else to confess to you.”

Wen Xiaomian listened, his gaze falling on the other man’s eyelashes.

“Before I drank that water, I knew there was cilantro in the cup.”

Wen Xiaomian: “Then why did you drink it?”

“At that time, I had not reviewed the school material much because of the competition. I was afraid I would drop out of first place in the exam.”

So he took the opportunity to find an excuse to miss it.

Wen Xiaomian: “…”

“Also, I am not actually allergic to cilantro. And I knew all along that you were the one who put it in my cup.”

“Scheming fox.” Wen Xiaomian gave a thumbs up. “The rumors are true.”

Wen Xiaomian was still quite speechless. “It is just an exam grade. Is there a difference between first and eleventh place?”

“Don’t you always take first in F1?”

“Racing is purely a hobby for me. The ranking does not matter; I am first because everyone else is trash.” Wen Xiaomian turned his head. “But how do you know so much about me?”

Wen Xiaomian leaned in, narrowing his eyes. “Could it be… all these years, you have never been able to forget me?”

“No need to be that narcissistic.” Yan Ruixing changed the subject. “I heard the F1 Championship is about to start?”

Wen Xiaomian curled his lip. “If you want insider tickets, say so early. And remember to use a sweet tone.”

“Given your current condition, you cannot engage in high-risk activities,” Yan Ruixing said like a stern judge. “Therefore, you cannot participate.”

Wen Xiaomian’s expression dropped into one of disappointment and impatience. “Got it.”

“Do not just say it. Do it.”

Wen Xiaomian gave a perfunctory response, promising not to gamble with his life, then shifted the topic. “Can a junior doctor like you, who has only worked for two years, handle such a big surgery? Are you sure you are up for it?”

Feeling slighted, Yan Ruixing did not hold back. “Rest assured, I will make sure you die quickly and painlessly.”

“If you let me die like that, I will have to return the favor by haunting you as a ghost.”

“Why be a ghost?” Yan Ruixing gave a fake warm, yet actually cold smile. “If you are willing, we can become family.”

Wen Xiaomian was ready to snap back, but he did not expect this move. In the end, he just arched an eyebrow and smirked.

Yan Ruixing popped a piece of gum and continued, “My aunt lives nearby. In a couple of days, I will take you to her house to introduce you.”

Wen Xiaomian watched like he was seeing a play, waiting for him to continue the fabrication. “Are you really in that much of a hurry?”

“My sister’s due date is at the end of the year. I am afraid you will not make it in time.”

Wen Xiaomian: “?”

“If the surgery fails,” Yan Ruixing drawled, with the tender concern of a relative, “you should reincarnate early…”

Wen Xiaomian: “???”

“…and be my nephew.”