The Delinquent Wants to Be His Rival School Grass's Guardian - Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Ready-Made Labor — “Might as Well Use Him!”

Probably because it was far from the city’s main roads, the nights on Jinghe Road were very quiet, free from the noise of traffic. After seven o’clock, most shops closed their doors, and the street only occasionally echoed with the faint voices of neighbors.

Xiao Hui, who lived across the street, seemed to have been beaten by his parents; he wailed for a while. The college student diagonally across the street had returned home for vacation and was holed up in his room playing games, occasionally shouting in anger: “Do you even know how to play? You’re such a scrub!”

Downstairs in the kitchen, Yan Jun was preparing the fillings for tomorrow morning’s buns: minced meat with vermicelli, mushrooms with green vegetables, and so on. Preparing the non-meat ingredients at this hour kept them fresher.

After finishing the fillings, he went to shower. He was used to brushing his teeth while washing his hair, first dangling the toothbrush in his mouth to work up lather, then brushing his teeth clean while his head was covered in soap.

Thinking about making a trip to the wholesale market tomorrow, he put his toothbrush and water cup back in the mirrored cabinet. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a spare toothbrush.

“Qin… Yan Su! Come down and brush your teeth!”

There was no sound from upstairs.

Hey, this “fake kid” is actually throwing a little tantrum! Yan Jun ground his back teeth: “I know you’re not asleep, come down here!”

A string of reluctant footsteps followed the stairs to the bathroom door. Qin Yize, with messy hair, took the toothbrush with a look of hesitation: “What kind of toothbrush is this?”

Pressing his thumb against the handle, the guy looked it over from left to right, appearing quite disdainful: “Why doesn’t it move?”

Yan Jun’s eyelid twitched: “I don’t have electric toothbrushes here, only manual ones! Hurry up and brush, then go to sleep!”

“Oh…” Squeezing out some toothpaste, Qin Yize shoved the toothbrush into his mouth and waved it side-to-side. Yan Jun’s eyelid twitched again; he simply grabbed the other’s wrist and taught him hand-on-hand: “Brush up and down, not side-to-side!”

“Oh…”

“Brush the molars carefully too!”

“Oh.”

“And the tongue!”

“Oh… blegh!”

Watching him like a hawk until the teeth were clean, Yan Jun opened the cabinet door and gestured for him to put the toothbrush in the cup: “Remember this from now on: the blue toothbrush is yours, the yellow one is mine. You have to brush every morning and before bed, you got it?”

Looking at the two toothbrushes standing side-by-side at an angle, Qin Yize smiled for some reason: “Mm, I got it.”

…

That night, Qin Yize had a dream.

Everything around him was blank, with only the “patter-patter” sound of rain echoing. He was walking forward at a steady pace when he was suddenly knocked to the ground by a force; his black umbrella slipped from his hand and flew away.

“Yan Su,” then came his brother’s voice, “Why did you go downstairs again? Go back and stay there, don’t run around.”

A burning sensation came from his temple, stinging sharply; he couldn’t help but touch it, biting his lip to endure the pain.

“Come here,” his brother said again. He casually lifted Qin Yize’s face, fingers gently parting the hair at the roots, meticulously exploring the scalp: “Does it hurt here? …How about here?”

Though his face was grumpy, his movements were exceptionally gentle. Qin Yize quickly grabbed his sleeve and shook his head: “It doesn’t hurt anymore. It stops hurting when you touch it.”

At that moment, a “ding-ling-ling” sound rang in his ears, drowning out what his brother was saying. Qin Yize tried hard to hear clearly, but the ringing grew louder and louder, pulling him from the blankness into the darkness.

Opening his eyes, the sound of nocturnal insects “chirping” filled the air.

The bed swayed slightly as the person beside him sat up, muttering, “Fuck… so sleepy.” Then came the creaking of the wooden floor, moving all the way toward the stairs.

A moment later, slivers of light filtered through the cracks in the wooden floorboards into the attic, vaguely outlining the surrounding furniture. Qin Yize’s consciousness gradually returned to his body, and he sat up instantly.

…He “tap-tap-tapped” after him.

“Brother!” When he rushed into the kitchen, Yan Jun had just poured warm water into a stainless steel basin and was startled by him: “Holy crap! You’re not sleeping, what did you run down for?”

“I heard you get up.” Qin Yize let out a sleepy yawn, looking curiously at him mixing dough. “Why are you wearing a hat? What are you doing?”

Yan Jun’s head was spinning; he had no time to deal with him. But this guy pushed his luck, poking his head in and stretching his neck beside him: “Is this flour?”

“Don’t get in the way, go upstairs and sleep!” Veins popped on Yan Jun’s forehead.

Being yelled at by his “brother,” the corners of Qin Yize’s mouth drooped, and he muttered unwillingly: “I won’t be in the way, I can help…”

“What can you help with? I’ll thank the heavens if you don’t make things worse!”

“I can help you knead the dough!” Qin Yize pointed into the basin, acting as if “this isn’t hard at all.”

Yan Jun had just set aside four catties of flour for the beef pies and was adding extra water. Hearing this, he laughed out of frustration: “Fine, fine, fine. Go wash your hands and knead it right now! Let’s see what you can make of it.”

In the process of making buns, kneading dough takes the most strength. The family used to have a dough mixer, but his mother had sold it later. He didn’t want his bun-making business to be discovered, so he had always kneaded by hand.

After more than a year of kneading, Yan Jun had developed hands of steel; one slap could make someone burst into tears. Now, seeing that Qin Yize was like a newborn calf unafraid of a tiger, insisting on the kneading challenge, Yan Jun stopped working. He pushed the basin over and crossed his arms to watch the comedy unfold.

…Sure enough, the “fake kid” was panting after only a short while, sweat breaking out on his face.

Yan Jun let out a “Ha!” of loud laughter and said contemptuously: “Didn’t I say you couldn’t help? Just go back to sleep. When the buns are done, I’ll bring two up for you.”

“No.” Qin Yize seemed to have picked a fight with the dough; he pursed his lips, a look of ruthlessness appearing in his eyes: “I can do it.”

He kneaded and rubbed with force, tirelessly folding, pounding, and pressing over and over with stubborn persistence. Yan Jun finished prepping the four catties of flour and leaned in to look; the sweat on the kid’s face was nearly streaming down, forming a precarious drop at the tip of his chin.

…Quite stubborn.

Hesitating for two seconds, he went upstairs to get a carton of milk and wrung out a wet towel. With a stern face, he tilted Qin Yize’s chin toward him and forcefully wiped the sweat from his face.

Seeing this handsome face that girls dreamed of being scrubbed back and forth by his hand, Yan Jun felt extremely satisfied. He couldn’t help but smile wickedly, adding a bit more force to the rubbing.

After rubbing, he popped his own baseball cap onto the other’s head and handed over the milk for a few sips: “Keep going. Knead it well; I’ll be using it soon.”

“Okay!” The fake kid drank half the carton of milk in one go. High-spirited like a soldier who had received validation, he began kneading with even more effort.

Looking at his ambitious expression, Yan Jun raised an eyebrow and tied an old towel around his own head: Well, he’s actually quite serious about the work.

…

With a laborer helping, Yan Jun was significantly more relaxed today. Once Qin Yize finished kneading the dough while panting, Yan Jun inspected it, then directed him to divide the dough into four portions, roll them into large sheets in turn, and then roll them into long cylinders.

The beginner was, after all, unskilled; the dough sheets were rolled into strange shapes. Fortunately, they were usable; once rolled up, the shape didn’t matter. Whether they were a bit thick or thin, he could control the weight when cutting the portions.

Feeling rare good spirits, Yan Jun took the dough rolls and methodically cut them into portions, then rolled them into circles thick in the middle and thin at the edges. He placed the meat filling inside, his fingers moving like lightning. Soon, a handsome, 18-pleated large bun appeared on the counter.

Qin Yize watched without blinking: “How do you wrap it like that?”

“You want to learn?” Yan Jun snorted with a smile, intending to show off, but his movements suddenly paused for two seconds. His expression turned stiff: “…Forget it. Just help me knead the dough. I don’t want to corrupt a high-achieving student like you.”

Busy until 4:30 AM, over two hundred buns were finally wrapped. Yan Jun stacked the steamer trays together. Qin Yize, still acting like a little tail, rubbed his arms while looking on expectantly: “Can we steam them now?”

“What’s the rush? They still need proof for an hour.” Taking off his apron and untying the towel, Yan Jun went out to buy groceries as usual. Qin Yize still followed closely, eager to try: “Brother, where are you going? I’ll go with you.”

“Tsk!” A glance back pinned him to the spot. Yan Jun’s face darkened, and he spat: “Go where? Stay here and watch the house! Grandma is sleeping; what if a thief comes and steals all the buns?”

Qin Yize retreated into the house resentfully, muttering in a small voice: “Can’t we just lock the door…”

Yan Jun raised his eyebrows and glared: “Huh?!”

“Oh, then I’ll watch the house.” The fake kid puffed out his cheeks, unwillingly accepting the arrangement.

…

That morning, Qin Yize ate four large buns. After finishing them in one go, he still felt a bit hungry and munched on a beef pie.

Yan Jun was stunned: He eats even more than I do!

“Tsk, dragging this on isn’t a solution; he’s going to eat me into poverty…” When he went back for a nap, he lay on his side in bed, muttering gloomily.

Qin Yize unexpectedly leaned against him from behind, pressing close to his back: “Brother, what did you say?”

“Holy crap!” Yan Jun sat up in a fright, covering his ears: “Don’t get so close to me, it’s scorching hot!”

“Oh.” Qin Yize stared at his bright red earlobes, feeling strangely… that his brother didn’t seem that mean after all? At least, not as unapproachably mean as his attitude suggested.

So, he tentatively leaned forward a bit more: “Brother, can I go downstairs to play today?”

“No.” Yan Jun was still cold, lying back down with his back to him, leaving no room for negotiation: “If you’re bored, I’ll find a game console for you to play with this afternoon, but you just can’t go out.”

This time, Qin Yize looked at his thin, elegant nape and didn’t bargain any further.

While sleeping, the summer morning became incredibly long. The two tall young men lay on the small 1.2-meter bed. Their posture, which had originally been “staying on their own sides,” gradually became sprawled out in all directions.

Yan Jun actually liked sleeping on his back, his limbs spread out freely, sleeping like he was dead to the world. Before an hour had passed, his leg was draped over Qin Yize’s thigh, pinning him down so he couldn’t move. After a while, his arm also swung over, hitting the other’s neck, the pain waking him up instantly.

“Brother…” muttering a complaint, Qin Yize looked at his sprawled posture. He wanted to push him away but couldn’t bear to: “Forget it, let him keep sleeping.”

Cautiously climbing over him and off the bed, the fake kid was still a bit sleepy. He stood by the window and let out a long yawn.

Looking out, that group of kids appeared on the street again. Currently, they were holding a stack of card-like things, gathered on the open ground in front of a certain shop, sticking their butts out and enthusiastically slapping them back and forth.

…What are they playing?

“Xiao Jun! Xiao Jun, are you awake?” Grandma’s voice suddenly drifted up from downstairs.

The fake kid was startled. Seeing that Yan Jun was still fast asleep, he tiptoed downstairs: “Grandma, Brother is still sleeping. Do you need him for something?”

Grandma sat at the counter, her arm scratched until it was bright red. Her triangular eyes looked at him in confusion: “You are…”

Qin Yize: “I’m Xiao Su, did you forget?”

“Oh, Xiao Shu!” Grandma realized, baring her gap-toothed smile. “The mosquito coils are gone. Go to the grocery store next door and buy some back for me!”

Go to the grocery store?

The fake kid’s eyes flashed secretly, but he quickly steadied himself, putting on an innocent, hesitant expression: “But, Brother won’t let me go out…”

“Won’t let you go out? Surely you don’t expect an old lady like me to run errands? You don’t have to listen to him, just go buy them! Even if the sky falls, Grandma will back you up.”

That was exactly what Qin Yize wanted to hear: “Okay! Grandma, I’m heading out then!”

…

Ten seconds later, Wu Sijia, who was watching an anime behind the grocery store counter, heard a strange yet pleasant voice:

“Is anyone here? I want to buy mosquito coils.”

Such deep, striking brows and eyes, such a straight bridge of the nose! The face shape was smooth and three-dimensional any less would be too feminine, any more would be too rugged. The lips were of moderate thickness, full and rosy… The young girl held her breath, dazed for a full five or six seconds.

When her eyes reached his tall stature, Wu Sijia finally noticed that the clothes he was wearing were actually the yellow Lakers T-shirt with purple trim that Yan Jun often wore!

Instantly even more surprised, she suppressed her excitement and asked expectantly: “Are you… are you a friend of Xiao Jun-ge?”

“Hm?” Qin Yize looked up, revealing a blunt, proud expression: “Not a friend. I’m his brother!”