Chapter 7: Huai City
Just what kind of self-absorbed, self-congratulatory brain does it take to come up with confessing by blocking someone's path to the cafeteria?
Sui Mi gripped her chopsticks tighter, trying to squirm out of it, and softly clarified what she'd actually said back in her chuunibyou phase.
"No."
"I was just annoyed my meal got interrupted, so I said that on purpose."
And no wonder the onlookers believed it without a second thought.
Back in high school, the baby fat on Sui Mi's face hadn't faded yet—soft cheeks, round eyes, with innocently drooping outer corners.
Her voice was soft and sweet, too.
Even when she spoke with a straight face, her lashes fluttering as she blinked, she looked desperately sincere.
"And I said other things after that too."
Qin Shuangshuang eagerly asked, "What?"
Sui Mi thought back for a moment. "Something like, I suggested he undertake a major project of developing from scratch and boosting his height, then go lie on a cold operating table, and finally take a bowl of mute potion so he'd never speak again."
"That way, he could barely manage not to pollute my eyes and ears."
She nodded, her tone breezy and light.
"He probably rarely meets a spiritual mentor like me, so he got so happy his face went red, and ran off cheerfully, unable to wait—probably went to prepare according to my suggestions."
"...???"
Yu Qingxian had just picked up a chicken wing to give Sui Mi, and her chopsticks stopped dead in midair.
Wen Tian was always cool and aloof, but even she rarely showed an expression of astonishment, and she stared at Sui Mi's mouth for a few extra seconds.
Maybe she was thinking, how could such a pretty mouth say such "sincere" suggestions?
In the end it was Qin Shuangshuang who, after staring blankly for a few seconds, sighed and said, "That was fucking... he was red-hot with anger, chased off by rage!"
"So that's how it was."
Sui Mi put on a slightly deliberate expression of surprise, as if suddenly enlightened.
"Why didn't you say so earlier."
"I was still wondering why he didn't even come thank me!"
"Hahahahaha!" Qin Shuangshuang had a low laughter threshold and was already collapsed against Wen Tian's shoulder, tears nearly springing to the corners of her eyes.
Yu Qingxian held back her laughter and finally steadily delivered the chicken wing into Sui Mi's bowl.
Seeing her puff her cheeks and sip milk.
She casually asked, "Since that comment was fake, what kind of person do you actually like?"
"Someone like Guan Teng?"
Sui Mi gulped down the pure milk and deliberated on a catch-all answer.
"Depends on face and feeling, I guess."
Actually.
It had to be fierce, thrilling, powerfully controlling.
In short.
The exact opposite of proper, old-fashioned, calm and distant Xi Jianbai.
-
The two afternoon periods were sketching class.
Class ended at five-thirty.
Sui Mi had told her roommates in advance that she had plans tonight, and went back to the dorm first.
Her class-only canvas bag was casually tossed onto the chair.
Sui Mi stood at the washbasin, pumped out two dollops of hand soap with a pa-pa, and as she interlaced her fingers to scrub, the phone in her pocket rang.
It was the special ringtone she'd set for family.
Sui Mi didn't rush—she carefully rinsed off the last bit of foam from her hands, dried the moisture between her fingers on the hand towel, and only then took out her phone.
As soon as the call connected, her father Pu Yu's clear, laughing voice fell into her ear, calling her affectionately, "Manman, class is over, right?"
In the background, there was the muffled clatter of a clay pot lid and the gurgling boil of hot congee.
Sui Mi could almost smell that rich, savory, piping-hot rice congee that had been simmered for ages.
Sure enough, Pu Yu's next line was, "Dad just finished a pot of seafood congee, planning to bring Mom some food at the office in a bit."
"What are you planning to eat tonight? If there's nothing you want, Dad can bring you a portion on the way."
"If there is something you want, Dad'll pack a little less, and you and your roommates can have a taste."
Sui Mi couldn't help dragging out her tone, "Which way is 'on the way,' Dad?"
Sui Qingye's company was in the northern business district, the Sui family home was in the southern villa district, and Jingda University sat in the triangular position opposite them.
If you really had to call it "on the way," you could only say the earth is round—any road leads to a meeting.
Pu Yu laughed. "Well, whichever road goes to my precious daughter's place is naturally on the way."
Sui Mi curved her lips and declined in a light, cheerful tone, "I'd really love to eat Dad's cooking, but I have plans tonight, so no luck for my taste buds."
She held the phone to her ear with one hand while her other hand had already pulled open the wardrobe door.
When people reach a certain stage, they always find their past selves childish.
Like middle schoolers looking at elementary schoolers, high schoolers looking at middle schoolers.
Especially after starting work—looking back at your student self, it's hard not to feel naive and innocent.
This mindset also feeds back into clothing.
Looking at old clothes, every single piece feels juvenile.
Sui Mi flipped through the hanging clothes, hangers clinking softly against the rod and the top of the cabinet, and barely managed to find one outfit that looked decent.
She was just about to take it out.
Pu Yu's tone lifted slightly, full of interest. "Picking clothes? Weren't you going out to eat with your roommates?"
Sui Mi answered casually, "No, it's with Xi—"
Wrong.
Sui Mi snapped her mouth shut, hurriedly retracting a person's name.
This wasn't her past life—she couldn't just naturally say Xi Jianbai's name.
Her parents would understand immediately, and ask with a smile whether to have the driver take her or Little Xi come pick her up.
Sui Mi still remembered—the day before their first wedding anniversary, she'd run home to mooch a big meal made by Pu Yu's own hands, and slept at home until the sun was high before getting up.
Still bleary-eyed, she opened the bedroom door and through the corridor railing saw the living room below.
Xi Jianbai, who was supposed to be abroad on business, had come back at some unknown hour—in a crisp, cold, severe suit, shoulders and back ramrod straight, sitting on the living room sofa, exchanging stiff pleasantries with her parents.
His ears were sharper than a hound's.
The moment the door opened, he keenly lifted his gaze.
Sui Mi, in a doll-collar pajama set, red marks still pressed into her cheeks, round apricot eyes all sleepy and bewildered, met her husband's eyes.
Sui Qingye and Pu Yu looked up too.
Pu Yu smiled and waved, his tone carrying a bit of a reminder, "Manman, how could you forget what day it is today? You made Little Xi come home to an empty house, and you didn't answer your phone either."
"Good thing Little Xi is smart and knew you'd definitely be here."
Sui Mi really had been too sleep-dazed—bracing herself on the railing, she asked blankly, "What day is it?"
At that, even Sui Qingye couldn't help giving her a reproachful look.
Xi Jianbai gazed at her steadily, his pale eyes quiet and deep, and said in a low voice, "Our first wedding anniversary."
Sui Mi: "..."
Sui Mi rubbed her cheek and pretended to be calm. "Sorry, first time being married, no experience."
By the time she'd changed clothes, washed up, and come downstairs, she happened to hear her parents saying politely and courteously, "Manman's been spoiled by us for so long, still got a child's temperament—on such an important day, she ran back home without even sending you a message."
Polite small talk for appearances.
If you criticize your own child first, others can't say anything more.
Next, it should be Xi Jianbai's turn to politely say no, no, Sui Mi is great.
Sui Mi tilted her head, suddenly curious how Xi Jianbai would respond.
Then she heard Xi Jianbai's voice.
"It's fine."
"This is her home to begin with."
He seemed to smile, a brief breath of air in his voice.
Clear, calm, and matter-of-fact.
"Coming back to your own home—no need to knock, no need to report."