The disappearance of the wasabi paste had to stem from some mysterious power from the heavens.
As for exactly what that power was, Ye Zhibai certainly had no face to admit it.
At the crucial moment, it was Sister Liang who came through.
With just a few words and a flash of inspiration, Chi Yuliang defused the situation perfectly—right as Fang Wenyuan returned with a tray of steaming hot steamed buns fresh from the pot.
“Wasabi…? Oh, I know! Didn’t Old Man Zhang from the neighborhood organize a chess tournament recently? I heard about it by chance—they give prizes to the winners, but the losers have to take a punishment! Man, these old grandpas really go hard. The penalty for losing is eating wasabi. Mom, tell me that isn’t brutal!”
“Playing for such high stakes?! No wonder the old folks buy such comprehensive insurance—normal people couldn’t handle it. So our wasabi at home…”
“Yeah, I donated it to the tournament. We don’t play chess ourselves, but we can still contribute to the neighborhood team-building, right?”
“Well said! That’s my Yuliang for you. Your dad and I have been worried about not keeping up neighborly relations because of our busy work schedules, but you’ve been home just a few days and you’re already holding up half the sky!”
“…”
Ye Zhibai quietly took a bite of a big steamed bun. It was soft and fluffy.
It felt just like the soft, bun-like nudge of Chi Yuliang’s arm against hers—a subtle way of claiming credit after the successful save.
Ye Zhibai knew it was a excuse Chi Yuliang had made up on the spot, but she couldn’t help thinking that if there really were such a tournament…
Signing up Guang Yu would mean she’d win like crazy!
She didn’t even know how to play chess—it wouldn’t matter who won or lost.
Flash a bottle of wasabi each round, and the supermarkets would run dry!
She’d be the goddess of war on the chessboard, where chess had nothing to do with it!
Inwardly apologizing to Guang Yu on behalf of Auntie Fang, Ye Zhibai picked up her big steamed bun, dipped it in chili sauce, and ate with gusto.
With Yun’er not around, she was determined to polish off half a bottle!
Did they have any idea how luxurious it was for her to come home and chow down on her old favorite?
This was nostalgia, the indulgent taste of memories that only surfaced in moments like these…!
“Little Bai… don’t eat too much chili sauce, okay? It’s not good for your body. Here, have more spinach—the greens are good for you.”
“…”
Spinach was everywhere under the heavens, it seemed. Even here, she might not get to indulge freely.
Even with her icy expression, Ye Zhibai was eating heartily, which did a lot to ease the tension at the table.
Fang Wenyuan had already let it go.
With Zhibai calling everything delicious bite after bite, her heart was blooming with joy!
Li Mowei might not have been the bravest, but at least he was no longer performing rapid-fire chopstick rhythms like some street artist.
Overall, lunch went well.
By the time the dishes on the marble dining table had been scraped clean—aside from Li Mowei, who barely spoke—the group was chatting and laughing (or not laughing, in Little Zhibai’s coolly indifferent case) about all sorts of neighborhood gossip.
They even got Ye Zhibai to share some stories from her big family.
Huh?
Stories? Big family?
Ye Zhibai promptly launched into the tale of how the cats back home pulled green onions, leaving Fang Wenyuan gasping in surprise.
See? Even the cats in rich families could do tricks!
It wasn’t until Chi Yuliang helped her mom clear the empty plates to the kitchen that Li Mowei finally cracked.
Uh… hey…?
What about my presence?!
He desperately hoped someone would talk to him.
But there had been zero warmth the whole time!
Not entirely, though.
Everyone at the table—except maybe Ye Zhibai—had noticed Li Mowei wanted to say something.
But for some reason, he just couldn’t get the words out.
Unfortunately, since he couldn’t open up on his own, no one else could do it for him either.
That was how the poor old dad ended up so thoroughly ignored.
Truly, starting anything is the hardest part… everything had to come from him.
Once Fang Wenyuan and her daughter returned, Li Mowei finally steeled himself.
No way… I have to ask. This concerns my lost youth, after all.
With his hands clasped in front of him on the cleared table, he cleared his throat and spoke.
“Ahem, Miss Ye? Could I… ask you a question?”
“Uncle, you don’t have to be so formal when you talk to me. I’ve been holding back from saying it… I mean, as the junior here, just call me by name.”
“Oh… alright then. In that case, Zhibai, your uncle won’t stand on ceremony. Haha… I was really out of sorts today. I should have hosted you properly, but as you saw, I got all flustered. Anyway! Zhibai, you’re the eldest daughter of the Ye Group, so your father must be that Mr. Ye Qinghe?”
“Hm?” Caught off guard by the sudden question, Ye Zhibai paused for a beat. “Yes. But… why do you ask?”
He’s my direct boss—can’t I even inquire?!
But that wasn’t the real point Li Mowei wanted to make.
By now, Chi Yuliang had finished washing the dishes and settled back beside Ye Zhibai.
She caught the exact moment when her dad let out a deep sigh, his face full of sorrow and world-weariness.
It was as if he were reminiscing about the slanting sunlight and evening breezes of his youth.
“You know… this goes back a long way. Wenyuan, do you remember back in high school in the city, that guy named Ye He from the class next door?”
“Ye He? Ye He… oh, yeah, I remember! How could I forget? He was the school heartthrob, captain of the basketball team—girls lined up for blocks to chase him!”
“Uh… right, you… you didn’t join the chase, did you?”
“…”
Wifey.
Don’t just go silent!
That’s not personal silence—that’s area-of-effect silence, and it’s got some damage!
But Fang Wenyuan’s silence was quickly overtaken by an amused laugh.
“Pfft-haha… look at you. You’re not exactly young anymore—why get all worked up? It’s ancient history. Yeah… high school days? I never chased him. I was always buried in studying for the gaokao—you know that. No time for that stuff.”
Oh, true enough.
Li Mowei exhaled in relief as he continued the story.
“That Ye He was from the next class, but he was my dormmate—we shared a room since there weren’t enough spots, and mixed-class dorms were the trend. Boys from different classes bunked together, and he was right across from me.” Chi Yuliang had already started to guess once the name came up.
“Dad… don’t tell me this Uncle Ye He is…?”
Li Mowei turned to her and gave a light nod, confirming her hunch.
“Exactly. I only found out after graduation. Ye He was Ye Qinghe’s alias—he must’ve used it to avoid recognition since his real name was so famous. He hid it so well for those three years! None of us had a clue.”
“Never heard that?!” Fang Wenyuan’s shock perfectly backed up Li Mowei’s story. “Ye He was CEO Ye?! Hiss… Mowei, you never told me any of this!”
“Don’t bring it up.” Li Mowei’s expression dimmed. “Grab me some booze first. Talking about this… it hits hard.”
“I said no drinking—you’ve got work this afternoon.”
“Forget work! I’ll call in sick! We’re talking Ye Qinghe—why bother going in?!”
“…”
Uncle Li, setting aside everything else, you deserve a drink just for that boldness in skipping work!
Quick, pour one for Uncle Li—the head of the house had been denied booze all lunch while sipping orange juice. How embarrassing!
This time, thanks to Li Mowei’s insistence, he finally got his way under Fang Wenyuan’s reluctant okay. He clutched a small erguotou cup filled with two liang of baijiu.
Two liang wasn’t much, but Li Mowei tossed it back in one gulp!
Bold move!
He slammed the cup down on the table. Not much of a drinker, he was already feeling the buzz—whether from the amount or the speed, his words now carried a tipsy lilt.
This was it: wine, stories, poetry, and distant horizons.
He’d meant to hold back.
But the more he thought, the angrier he got.
In the end, he decided not to bottle it up anymore!
Fueled by the alcohol, he poured out all the words he’d kept buried for years!
“Ye He… no, Ye Qinghe! That guy’s no good, I tell you. Think about it—such a great bro, dormmates for three years through thick and thin. How many times did we pour our hearts out after bombing exams? How many storms did we brave taking turns to grab meals from the cafeteria? Kids, you’ve both finished high school, but you girls probably can’t grasp that dorm-bro bond us guys have!”
Alright, alright. Ye Zhibai thought, I couldn’t even afford dorm fees back then—what do I know?
Buoyed by the booze, Li Mowei was off to the races.
“Where was I…? Right! So these great dormmates finally make it to gaokao together. Me? I always gave it my all but forever came in second! You know this, Wenyuan—never once not second. First was always him, Ye Qinghe. The guy was in the gym shooting hoops every day and chasing some girl named… Fang Qing nonstop! Tsk tsk, always playing around, dating up a storm, and still acing every test first place. Totally unfair!”
All you could say was: Get used to it, Uncle.
Talent’s a mystery—you start overthinking it, and it’ll just piss you off.
Yun’er’s study skills must come from her old man. She barely studies and still cracks top fifty in the province.
Pfft. And it nailed one more thing too—in high school, it was definitely Dad chasing after Mom. Dad had claimed last time that it was Mom chasing him. Talk about losing face.
Just as Ye Zhibai assumed Li Mowei’s impotent rage stemmed from the bitter frustration of being crushed in their grades, he abruptly changed the subject.
“My grades weren’t as good as his? That’s exactly right! You need a benchmark to stay motivated. Because he always outscored me, I pushed myself harder and harder, studying like a madman. Without him spurring me on, Wenyuan and I probably wouldn’t have even gotten into Qihai University, let alone Capital University. I should be thanking him—we pushed each other and improved together. That’s the only way to go the distance!”
No, no, no… Uncle Li, I think you were the one getting so pissed off at yourself that you had no choice but to be the one doing all the spurring.
Li Mowei picked up his glass for another swig, but the baijiu was gone. He got nothing but a hint of air and a few stray drops.
That’s not the point!
He set the glass down again, his furious expression now on full display.
“The real problem is this! Me and my roommates had it all planned out—we’d bear witness to the ultimate Gaokao showdown between me and Ye Qinghe. I swear, it felt like a fated clash. I endured years of hardship, grinding away in secret for three whole years, all for that one chance to deliver the killing blow and prove that hard work can triumph over raw talent! But right when I went to him, burning with righteous fury and ready to issue my challenge… he actually… he actually…!”
“He straight-up admitted he was a hidden second-generation rich kid! Said he was heading abroad to study for the polish, then coming home to inherit the family fortune! He actually… argh!!”
Pfft…
Luckily, Ye Zhibai was the natural ice queen type—her smiles never reached her eyes. Even when she couldn’t hold back a chuckle, she hid it masterfully, so it didn’t come off as rude.
Huh? But I clearly didn’t laugh. So where’s that laughter coming from?
She glanced around and realized Sister Liang and Auntie Fang were both cracking up!
Holy crap… Uncle Li.
You’ve got to learn to toughen up!
With a home this frosty, you need to light little candles in your heart now and then!
Now I finally get why you needed a drink before spilling this story. It’s not just any kind of tragic—it’s next-level pathetic!
The real tragedy was still to come. Uncle Li, all fired up with heroic spirit, reached for another round of baijiu, only for Auntie Fang to snatch the glass away and give him a good scolding.
“Sister Liang, it looks like… being a dad isn’t easy.”
“Tell me about it. It’s the first I’ve heard that my dad was classmates with Uncle Ye… What a coincidence.”
“Indeed.”
The “not easy” I’m talking about is the family pecking-order part, you know?
Their situations might differ, but they’ve ended up in the same boat on that front.
Yeah, really something.
Thump, thump, thump!
It was a moment of laughter for some and sorrow for others when three rhythmic knocks rang out from the direction of the entryway door.
While Fang Wenyuan was in the middle of dressing down Li Mowei, she glanced toward the door and called out.
“Who is it?”
“Delivery! Could you open the door, please?”
Oh?
Ye Zhibai looked up at the sound.
The door muffled the voice, making it hard to hear clearly.
But the delivery person sounded like a young woman.
That was pretty rare—such a sweet voice for a delivery gig!
Still… for some reason, it rang a bell.
