To Sweep Across Like Wildfire - Chapter 39

Chapter 39

Shen Qingruo didn’t even step out of the courier shop; she stood right there in front of the owner and dropped that line, fully leaning into her “bad woman” persona.

A moment later, a voice message from the “kid” popped up. Shen Qingruo clicked it with a smug grin, and a pleasant, youthful voice echoed through the shop: “I’m drawing.”

The shop owner took a sip of water from his large porcelain mug and walked away with a look of utter indifference.

Shen Qingruo: ?

What did that mean? Was she being rejected? The kid rejected her? Since when did the kid ever say no to her? She froze for a second, genuinely shocked, unable to process the situation. Just as she was wondering how she’d lug the boxes up herself, her phone dinged with another message: “Wait twenty minutes for me. Have you eaten? If not, why don’t you go eat first?”

“I thought you were drawing?” Shen Qingruo replied via voice.

It was a standard question, but after the momentary ego bruise, her tone carried a trace of unintentional grievance and pettiness.

Meng Chi replied airily: “I finished.”

Meng Chi realized she was far too easily swayed by Shen Qingruo. After Jiang Sitian’s warning, she had tried to avoid falling into these repetitive emotional loops. But just as she felt she was making progress in not thinking about the woman so constantly, one casual, flirtatious voice message from Shen Qingruo shattered her resolve. The fortress she thought she was building—while not yet sturdy—apparently wasn’t even paper-thin.

She told herself not to sink further and had initially declined the invitation, but the moment the message was sent, a tidal wave of regret hit her. She thought: At the beginning, I didn’t even have her contact info and I was desperate to find her. Now that we’re finally close and she’s actually inviting me over, how could I push her away?

She convinced herself instantly, sent the follow-up message, packed her sketches, and walked toward the school gate while opening a ride-hailing app to input Shen Qingruo’s address.

While in the car, Shen Qingruo messaged saying she was eating wontons near her place and sent the location. The car happened to pass the shop, so Meng Chi hopped out early.

A red sign reading “Hao Zai Lai” Come Again hung over the door. Through the glass, the layout looked cramped—five or six tables packed tightly with scattered wooden stools. Fortunately, there weren’t many customers, and Meng Chi spotted Shen Qingruo immediately, head down, focused on her food.

She pulled open the glass door and walked in.

A man sat by the entrance. It was hard to tell what he did for a living; he had a shaved head, wore a sleeveless shirt, and sported a tattoo on his thick right arm. His muscular calf was hooked over his thigh, his foot dangling rhythmically. With a cigarette hanging from his lip, he lazily lifted his eyelids to size up Meng Chi before returning his gaze to two chickens fighting in the distance.

Looking at him, Meng Chi was reminded of the “gold-medal enforcers” in old Hong Kong movies.

Perhaps because Shen Qingruo was there, she wasn’t afraid. She just wondered what a shop this small could possibly pay in protection money.

Shen Qingruo wasn’t wearing makeup today. She looked much more natural than usual, her lips glistening slightly from the oil as she ate with gusto.

Meng Chi wondered if it was really that good. She glanced at Shen’s bowl and suppressed a gasp. The surface was covered in a layer of chili flakes; at a glance, it looked like chili soup. Does she really love spicy food that much?

Shen Qingruo smiled at her, then looked back at the chickens pecking at each other outside. She said casually, “Black Feather will win.”

The man at the door scoffed, stretching his arms like he was warming up for a brawl. He exhaled a cloud of smoke and said, “Blue Feather.”

Confused, Meng Chi followed their gaze. The two chickens looked identical at first, but their tails were slightly different—one had a few blue tail feathers, the other was pure black.

Black Feather was smaller and clearly at a disadvantage at first. After being chased and losing a few feathers, it seemed to snap. Whether it mutated or reverted to some primal instinct, it suddenly lunged. Blue Feather was startled, retreating several steps and losing its lead. By the time it remembered it belonged to a species that could fly, it fluttered weakly, but Black Feather flew higher and pinned it to the ground.

On the quiet street, a cloud of feathers rose—a silent, fierce war no one else witnessed.

Seeing Blue Feather lose, the man’s face turned as dark as a soot-covered pot. He took several heavy drags of his cigarette, looking like he wanted to go out and slaughter Black Feather himself.

Meng Chi wanted to tug Shen Qingruo’s sleeve and tell her to stop eating and leave—couldn’t she see how angry the guy was?

Shen Qingruo swallowed a wonton and pointed at Meng Chi, introducing her to the man first: “This is my sister.”

Then, flashing an innocent smile, she said, “Big brother, you lost. Cook a bowl of wontons for my sister.”

The man stood up without a word. He gave Meng Chi a look that served as a greeting, flicked his cigarette into a homemade ashtray made from a soda can, and kicked open the glass door. He walked outside, put on a pink Hello Kitty apron, and started cooking wontons with practiced skill.

Meng Chi: ?

She never expected he was the owner of the wonton shop.

The food arrived quickly. Meng Chi wanted to say she wasn’t hungry, but she held back. Partly because Shen Qingruo looked so happy eating that she wanted to try it, and partly because no one gave her a chance to refuse. This ordinary shop gave off a strange, “outlaw” vibe. She didn’t know how business usually was, but she figured the regulars here had to be quite brave.

Meng Chi stirred the wontons with her porcelain spoon. The meat filling looked fresh and plump; for a second, she wondered what kind of meat it was and what the probability was that this shop served as a “disposal site.”

She glanced at Shen Qingruo, who was still eating happily. Meng Chi took a breath and swallowed a wonton whole without even chewing. She realized the taste wasn’t strange at all. After a few more bites, she found them fresh and savory. The broth had homemade pickled greens in it, making it refreshing and not at all greasy.

Meng Chi rarely drank wonton soup, but this broth was so fragrant she finished half the bowl. She looked at Shen’s broth and noticed she hadn’t drunk any—likely because the amount of chili powder in it would cause an “explosion” the next day.

Meng Chi blushed slightly. Was I being too greedy?

Luckily, Shen didn’t say anything. Having started earlier, she finished first. She strolled over to a vertical fridge, grabbed two bottles of Beibingyang orange soda, dropped straws in, kept one for herself, and placed the other by Meng Chi’s hand. Meng Chi didn’t drink much; half the bottle was left when they finished.

Shen Qingruo pulled out some crumpled bills from her pocket, smoothed them out, and tucked them under her porcelain bowl.

As they stood up, Shen Qingruo naturally picked up Meng Chi’s leftover soda and walked out.

The owner was sitting outside, surrounded by smoke.

“My kid didn’t finish her soda. I’m taking the bottle; I’ll bring it back later,” Shen said, waving the glass bottle.

The owner reached out with a hand the size of a cattail leaf fan—a hand that looked like it could crush both of them into paste. He said expressionlessly, “Fifty cents.”

“Don’t have it,” Shen said. “I told you I’d bring it back.”

“You said that last time. And what happened?” The owner sneered. “Pay the deposit first.”

Shen Qingruo had already pulled Meng Chi away. She patted her empty pockets and said, “No money means no money.”

The owner didn’t chase them. He just let out a cold laugh. Then he went inside to clear the table. A moment later, he leaned out and yelled toward Shen Qingruo: “Hey! Didn’t you say you had no money? Why’d you overpay then? Show-off!”

The woman didn’t look back; she just waved a hand.

Tsk. The owner curled his lip.

A while later, the courier shop owner looked at the two women who had suddenly charged back in and silently closed his pamphlet on urology.

“Boss, you haven’t met her yet, have you?” Shen Qingruo pointed at Meng Chi with unbridled enthusiasm, as if she were showing off a long-hidden treasure. “This is my sister.”

“Sigh, I told her she didn’t need to come, but she insisted on taking a taxi over. Worried I couldn’t carry the boxes,” Shen bragged.

Owner: “…” Didn’t you call her here yourself on speakerphone?

The owner pretended to be deaf to that fact and said, “Your sister is so good to you.”

That was all the encouragement Shen needed.

“Well, which kid is born sensible? You have to train them… At first, she really didn’t want to come, but she quickly realized how hard her older sister has it…”

The owner tried to interrupt once but couldn’t stop the flood of her “parenting insights.” He finally gestured outside and said, “Your kid left with the dolly.”

Shen Qingruo looked out and saw Meng Chi already walking away with a large box on a trolley. She turned to chase after her, then paused, slowed her pace, and let out a long, dramatic sigh full of “comfort”: “She just cares too much about her sister. Doesn’t want me to get tired, so she’s shouldering it all alone…”

Owner: . Owner: Whatever makes you happy.

Meng Chi truly couldn’t listen to Shen Qingruo’s nonsense anymore. It was too embarrassing. She’d loaded the big box and hurried away; she didn’t care if she could get it up the stairs alone yet. Standing by the apartment door was better than staying in that shop.

“Are you shy?” Shen Qingruo caught up quickly. “Why be shy? Was I not telling the truth?”

“Why don’t you carry it yourself then?”

“I could,” Shen said, slipping back into her “drama queen” persona. “But… but if I collapse from exhaustion, wouldn’t it break your poor little heart?”

Meng Chi: “…”

The old building had no elevator. Shen couldn’t bear to let Meng Chi carry it all, so they hauled the boxes up together. They carried and rested, taking half an hour to get everything up.

After Meng Chi had a drink of water and prepared to head back to school, she felt a light tug on the ribbon of her dress.

Shen Qingruo blinked and said, “National labor laws state that when a worker provides labor, the employer must provide compensation. You… don’t want your reward?”