Flirt First, Run Later [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 7

Liang Chu was someone who indulged in comfort—averse to exertion and deep thought, with no grand ambitions in life. He held the working class in the highest esteem, believing that those who loved labor were truly remarkable. Though he lacked the perseverance to endure hardship, he was self-aware and admired diligent, hardworking individuals all the more, especially those who strived for self-improvement through their own initiative. Such self-discipline was beyond his reach, even if he were whipped into action.

Liang Chu started school late and learned to read later than most. While other children his age could fluently recite classical poems and attended various tutoring classes daily, he was still painstakingly learning pinyin. His teacher, a prominent figure, would tap the blackboard every day, personally guiding him through character recognition. Liang Chu would stumble along, repeating the words, chewing on his pencil as he practiced writing new characters. If he lost focus for even a moment, he’d doze off with his head on the notebook.

Struggling to keep up in class, he became the target of behind-the-back ridicule for his poor grades and perceived lack of intelligence. Feeling wronged, he’d think to himself, I feel like my brain works just fine. He’d go home and quietly resolve to study harder, only to give up after a couple of days, sighing about how difficult learning was. Yet, there was one thing he persisted with for over half a year: every night before bed, he’d wish to wake up smarter the next day, while those who spoke ill of him would turn foolish.

Even as he grew older, he could never emulate someone like Xie Shenxing—reading page by page, looking up every unfamiliar character in the dictionary, proactively confronting and tackling challenging new subjects. It was simply beyond him.

Liang Chu didn’t disturb him, leaning against the doorframe instead. It was Xie Shenxing who glanced up at the clock on the table, closed his book, and stood, turning to find Liang Chu there.

Pretending he had just returned home and seen nothing, Liang Chu said, “I’m hungry. Get me something to eat.”

Xie Shenxing handed him a prepared glass of juice and headed to the kitchen. Sipping his drink, Liang Chu slowly followed him downstairs and into the south courtyard.

Jing Ke wasn’t fond of reading; his room was filled with toys but very few books, and the ones he had lacked pinyin annotations, making them difficult to read. The sisters, Jing Qin and Jing Qi, were the daughters of the second son of the Jing family. Their mother was determined to raise them as refined young ladies, investing heavily in their upbringing from a young age. Her efforts paid off. The sisters were exceptionally skilled for their age, well-versed in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. Their home was well-stocked with books. Moreover, since Jing Qin and Jing Qi were still young, most of their books included pinyin. Jing Ke, about to enter third grade, no longer needed annotated texts.

Liang Chu borrowed a stack of pinyin-annotated books, inadvertently including some first- and second-grade textbooks. The polite sisters saw him to the door, telling him he didn’t need to return the books.

In those days, smartphones weren’t as ubiquitous or advanced as they are now, and entertainment options were limited. Without computers or video games, people went to bed early. Lying in bed at night, Liang Chu pulled out a book and handed it to Xie Shenxing. “Read me a story. I can’t sleep.”

Xie Shenxing’s hand paused as he tucked the blanket under Liang Chu’s chin. His eyes, hidden by his lashes, betrayed no emotion. “I’m not good at reading.”

Liang Chu tapped the spine of the book rhythmically against Xie Shenxing’s hand, utterly unreasonable. “I don’t care about that. It’s none of my business. Just read to me, now!”

Xie Shenxing’s throat moved as he took the book, running his fingers over the cover before opening it. With just one glance at the contents, he froze, as if realizing something. He suddenly looked up, his gaze sharp with scrutiny and assessment.

Liang Chu said, “Why are you looking at me? Do I have words written on my face?”

Xie Shenxing smiled, his usually cold and rigid features suddenly coming to life. He turned his gaze to the book. The room was so quiet that only the sound of turning pages could be heard. Liang Chu, like a triumphant little cricket, commanded, “Read slower. I want to listen as I fall asleep.”

Xie Shenxing began reading in a hoarse voice.

Initially, Liang Chu had assumed Xie Shenxing’s foundation was weak and that it would take at least a year or so to teach him properly. Unexpectedly, Xie Shenxing progressed rapidly. Liang Chu had no idea how hard he was studying at home—he only saw the results. In just three months, Xie Shenxing no longer relied on phonetic annotations while reading and could even handle his homework. Liang Chu was overjoyed. He had always dreaded homework—what could be so difficult about a child’s assignments? Copying characters and solving math problems? Having already finished university, going back to elementary school homework felt like a waste of his talent.

Now that Xie Shenxing could handle it, Liang Chu felt liberated. Xie Shenxing also proved himself capable. His initial assignments had occasional mistakes, but before long, he was excelling in every subject, as if he were born to learn.

As the sun slowly dipped westward, casting long shadows, Jing Wenwu hunched over his chair, scribbling furiously. Liang Chu leisurely nibbled on snacks, with an assortment of sunflower seeds and sweets laid out on the low table beside him, all unwrapped and ready for his enjoyment. He sampled one treat after another.

Jing Wenwu, anxious about finishing his homework, grew increasingly irritated by the sight of someone eating so contentedly. He put down his pen and glared at Liang Chu, who said unhurriedly, “I’m not smacking my lips. Don’t blame me if you can’t focus.”

Jing Wenwu still vented his frustration: “I’m here doing homework, and you’re over there eating nonstop. Aren’t you ashamed?”

Liang Chu replied, “Not at all.”

Jing Wenwu asked, “Aren’t you full?”

Liang Chu lifted his leg and gave him a light kick. Jing Wenwu exclaimed, “Why did you kick me?”

Liang Chu preempted him: “You’re allowed to take your frustration out on me, but I can’t vent mine on you?”

Outmatched, Jing Wenwu swallowed his grievance and lowered his head to continue writing. Finally done, he still had ancient poems to memorize. Unable to contain his envy and curiosity, he asked, “Why is Xie Shenxing so good to you? Even my mom isn’t that nice.”

Liang Chu straightened up and said, “You people only see the surface. You don’t see how much hard work I’ve put in behind the scenes.”

Jing Wenwu curled his lip. “I don’t believe you.”

Liang Chu chuckled. “Suit yourself. I was just talking nonsense anyway.”

Liang Chu sighed, patting his stomach. Though Jing Wenwu didn’t have anyone waiting on him, at least he hadn’t offended anyone. Liang Chu, on the other hand, was constantly ordering Xie Shenxing around, day in and day out. He couldn’t help but worry that he was sowing the seeds of future trouble. Once Xie Shenxing gained independence, he might eventually bite back.

As dusk fell, Jing Wenwu finished reciting his texts, and the two returned to the east courtyard for dinner. When they waved goodbye, Jing Wenwu suddenly grabbed Liang Chu’s hand and asked, “Aren’t you scared sleeping in the same room as Xie Shenxing?”

Liang Chu was taken aback. “Why would I be scared?”

Jing Wenwu whispered, “You don’t know? I don’t even dare to be alone with him. Don’t you think he’s terrifying? Like a monster—a wolf-turned-monster, and after the monster dies, it becomes a ghost with boundless powers. It’s really scary.”

Liang Chu: “…”

After saying this, Jing Wenwu ran off home. Liang Chu leaned on the handrail and slowly made his way up to the second floor.

As the eldest son of the Jing family, Jing Wenwu had naturally grown up showered with affection and care. Like a young calf unacquainted with storms, he feared nothing in the world. Priding himself on being the big brother, he constantly showed off and tried to set an example for the younger children. There was no reason for him to feel afraid of Xie Shenxing. Monsters and ghosts were probably the scariest beings Jing Wenwu could imagine.

But children possess instincts sharper than adults. Liang Chu recalled how the Jing sisters, Qin and Qi, often avoided Xie Shenxing as well. Even though they adored the small mosquito net they had set up, they refused to come over and play for a while.

Liang Chu couldn’t quite figure it out—what was it about Xie Shenxing that frightened them so? Was it just that he looked a bit sharp and intimidating? When Liang Chu first met Xie Shenxing, he too had thought him unruly, fierce, and hard to tame. But after spending time with him, he found Xie Shenxing quite easy to boss around.

It was only later that Liang Chu realized the Xie Shenxing he had met at first was the man’s true nature—unruly and fierce—but by then, he had already been firmly kept under control.

For now, he had to return to the bedroom to add fuel to the fire of this strange situation. Xie Shenxing had already laid out the bedding. Liang Chu climbed onto the bed and lay on his stomach. After a few minutes, Xie Shenxing came over, lifted him up, and sat him upright. “Isn’t it uncomfortable to lie on your stomach?”

Liang Chu thought about it and realized it did feel a bit squashed, so he obediently sat up and said, “Go wash an apple for me. I want to eat an apple.”

Xie Shenxing didn’t move. Instead, he packed Liang Chu’s homework into his schoolbag. “You just ate. You can have one tomorrow.”

Liang Chu insisted, “Go get it for me. I saved room in my stomach for an apple.”

Xie Shenxing walked over slowly, bent down, and looked at him. “Oh, really? Let me check.”

Without waiting for a refusal, Xie Shenxing gently rubbed Liang Chu’s round, full belly and chuckled. “You really do have some room left. Cocoa is so clever.”

Liang Chu kept a straight face, thinking to himself, Do you really think I’m a nine-year-old kid? But he couldn’t help feeling a little pleased at being called clever…

Xie Shenxing covered him with his clothes, worried that he might overeat. Apples were filling enough to substitute for a meal, and this little glutton, who never knew when to stop, loved eating them. He would often devour a whole apple without wasting a single bite, which always made Xie Shenxing nervous.

In a soft voice, Xie Shenxing said, “No more apples. I’ll get you a piece of watermelon instead.”

Liang Chu refused, “No! I don’t want watermelon!”

Xie Shenxing patted his head and brought up a slice of watermelon anyway.

Liang Chu widened his eyes, fuming. Just moments ago, he had praised Xie Shenxing for being easy to boss around, and now the man was already contradicting him. So much for compliments! And after he’d even bought him new clothes for nothing!

Xie Shenxing brought the bright red tip of the watermelon to Liang Chu’s lips. Liang Chu wanted to eat it and couldn’t resist taking a bite. Watermelon was a summer treat for beating the heat, and it wasn’t that he disliked it.

It was just that not long ago, when he had asked Xie Shenxing to bring him an apple—the first time he’d ever asked Xie Shenxing to fetch him fruit—Xie Shenxing had cooperated, washing the apple and handing it to him. But Liang Chu didn’t take it, habitually finding fault: “How am I supposed to eat this? Do you eat the skin?”

He had only said it offhand.

Xie Shenxing took out a dagger and began peeling the apple. His hands were deft: he held the apple in his left hand and the small knife in his right, pressing the blade against the fruit. With his right fingers guiding the knife, he pushed the blade forward inch by inch, and the apple skin fell away in neat, continuous spirals.

Liang Chu watched unblinkingly. He could peel an apple like that too, but not as fluidly as Xie Shenxing, whose movements were almost like a performance. Once the apple was peeled, Xie Shenxing went the extra mile to serve this little master, cutting it into pieces and presenting it on a plate.

Then he ate the apple peel.

Liang Chu’s jaw nearly dropped. He said to Banya Xiong, “I didn’t make him eat it! This time, I’m truly innocent!”

Banya Xiong was understanding. “I know.”

Liang Chu felt like crying. “What good does it do for you to know? Xie Shenxing must think I forced him to eat the peel. How could I be so awful? My conscience is killing me.”

Banya Xiong comforted him, “Don’t be afraid. Xie Shenxing just doesn’t like to waste things.”

Liang Chu considered that this might be true, but regardless, when eating apples, Xie Shenxing ate the peel; when eating pears, he ate the peel; and when eating oranges, though he didn’t eat the peel, he would use it to make tea. For a long time, Liang Chu had been too scared to eat watermelon, afraid that Xie Shenxing would eat the rind. It was terrifying. Jing Wenwu was right, Xie Shenxing was truly frightening.

With mixed feelings, Liang Chu ate the watermelon. He should have been too nervous to taste anything, but this watermelon was incredibly sweet. After finishing his portion, his eyes fixed intently on Xie Shenxing as he swallowed the last bite.

Xie Shenxing brought the rind to his mouth, and Liang Chu thought despairingly, It’s over, it’s over—he’s going to eat the peel again.

Xie Shenxing ate the remaining red flesh from the rind Liang Chu had left behind, only setting it down when it was completely white. Liang Chu was stunned—there was his saliva all over it! But he also felt a wave of relief. Xie Shenxing really was just avoiding waste; Liang Chu hadn’t eaten his watermelon cleanly, only the sweetest parts.

Xie Shenxing wiped the juice from his hands and said gently, “Keke swallowed a watermelon seed.”

Liang Chu gasped and instinctively touched his lips. Then, he was effortlessly lifted and placed on Xie Shenxing’s lap, facing him. Xie Shenxing held him with ease, his palm resting on Liang Chu’s slightly rounded belly. “A little watermelon is going to grow in here.”

Liang Chu wondered why he was so fond of touching his stomach. Were there really people in the world with a belly fetish?

Xie Shenxing held his shoulders and leaned him back. “Don’t be afraid. A kiss will make it go away.” Then he bent down and kissed his navel.