Chapter 18

Ding Shuqing was in Bramble City on business. Standing next to Ding Ya, they didn’t look like siblings at all.

Though they hadn’t looked like it when they were young, either, given the age gap.

Ding Shuqing took after their father more, appearing older and mature, as if he’d skipped any youthful, green phase entirely, going straight to looking like an uncle at twenty.

Big Brother said, “Mom says you always eat takeout. Looks to me like you only know how to buy premade stuff now.”

At his age, Ding Shuqing was set in his ways anyway. The exhaustion from daily overtime was etched on his face, but he didn’t look frail at all. His voice was just a bit hoarse.

Ding Ya: “Bro, you’ve been nagging since we entered the supermarket. Aren’t you tired?”

Above them, a supermarket delivery bag slowly slid along its track. Ding Ya bent down to grab a pack of chicken breast. “I’ll cook for you when we get back.”

Though the family hadn’t needed Ding Shuqing to become a “brother like a father” figure, Ding Ya’s personality was what it was. As the older brother, he’d been worrying since she was little.

His younger sister was like tofu—couldn’t be hit, couldn’t be scolded. Ding Ya’s personality was also pampered. Growing up hadn’t made her polite with family.

Ding Shuqing: “Then get beef. Didn’t you say we’re having hot pot? What’s with the chicken breast?”

Ding Ya: “Can’t I buy meat for the dog?”

Ding Shuqing’s tone couldn’t help turning sarcastic. “You eat takeout yourself but remember to cook for the dog?”

Ding Ya ignored him. The red woven headband in her hair gave her an adorable charm that didn’t match her age. Every time Ding Shuqing looked at her, he felt like his little sister was still a child.

“Going home for New Year’s?”

Ding Shuqing grabbed a red pomelo, pushing the cart as he asked.

Ding Ya’s phone was stuffed inside her plaid fleece diamond-quilted jacket, sticking out a bit because the case was too big.

“Yeah,” Ding Ya said, as if remembering something. She glanced at her brother. “Don’t tell me they’re making me go on blind dates again?”

Ding Shuqing pushed the cart with one hand, looking at his phone. “Seems like it. Dad has a colleague whose son also works over here. You two are about the same age.”

Ding Ya muttered, “Didn’t know Mom and Dad had so many friends with kids.”

She’d just dyed her hair black again a few days ago. The new conditioner made her hair much softer, even giving the sharp, blunt ends a sense of softness.

Ding Shuqing looked sideways at her, helpless. “Isn’t it because you’ve had no news at all?”

Ding Shuqing knew Ding Ya’s personality all too well. A bit mischievous, well-versed in picking on the weak. Since kindergarten, she’d had classmates’ parents show up at their door.

She’d just flash an innocent smile and say the boy fell down by himself.

Of course, that boy had pulled her ponytail before. An ordinary little girl would have burst into tears and gotten the boy scolded.

But Ding Ya didn’t like crying. In an age where kids loved to wail, she seemed exceptionally sensible.

So sensible it made their mother unsure what to do.

Ding Shuqing was seven years older than Ding Ya. Elementary school was only six years. In middle school, he picked up his elementary school sister.

When he was in senior high, his sister was still in elementary. By university, his sister finally hit puberty.

Early romance being a parental worry—Ding Shuqing had even considered that if Ding Ya had a crush, he’d definitely speak up for her.

Pity his sister showed no signs. Her only hobby was playing on the computer.

Ding Ya: “Is dating really that easy?”

She glanced at Ding Shuqing. “Bro, your love life wasn’t easy either.”

Ding Shuqing and Ding Ya’s current sister-in-law had met in a game and taken it offline. Sister-in-law was two years younger than Ding Shuqing. Back then, their long-distance relationship was incredibly hard.

They almost broke up at one point but ended up married.

Ding Shuqing was silent for a moment. “If you don’t want to do the blind dates, you don’t have to go.”

“It’s nothing. Everyone’s just running errands,” Ding Ya said. The blind dates their parents arranged so far were all decent in various aspects. At least no awkward scenes happened. “Just go through the motions.”

Some had partners their own families didn’t approve of, insisting on finding someone local, forced into showing up.

Ding Ya understood.

Ding Shuqing: “Work’s not giving you anyone suitable?”

Ding Ya smiled. “The work suits me perfectly. As for people… no.”

She took a long time picking milk, practically shivering in front of the cooler. Ding Shuqing suddenly asked, “What made you suddenly want to get a dog?”

Ding Ya: “I used to raise a dog in a game. This little dog looks a lot like the one in the game.”

“The dog in the game—someone gave that to you too?”

Ding Shuqing asked.

Ding Ya grabbed a strawberry-flavored one, letting out an “Ah?” as she put it in the cart. “Too?”

Ding Shuqing: “I remember in senior high you bragged to me about someone giving you a skirt in a web game?”

He’d been traveling everywhere lately for a public interest case, losing a lot of weight. Looking down at his sister, he was practically making faces.

Ding Ya: “You scolded me back then, said I was wasting money. Didn’t believe anyone actually gave it to me.”

Ding Shuqing: “Back then you kept asking me for money. How could I not overthink it? Your bro barely had any living expenses each month, had to juggle dating and eating. Of course I’d feel the pinch giving you money?”

Ding Ya huffed.

Ding Shuqing later found out someone really had given it to Ding Ya because he discovered her chat app account was all lit up with features.

Ding Ya’s monthly allowance might have been more than the average kid’s.

But she spent a lot too. Little accessories for girls, favorite manga magazines—she blew through it every time, never having enough to satisfy her vanity.

Ding Ya: “You’re the worst… Hey!”

A kid bumped into her, sending her phone to the floor.

The little girl who bumped her wore a school uniform inside, with a thick padded coat thrown over. After running into Ding Ya, she hurried back and loudly yelled a “Sorry.”

Ding Ya picked up her phone, smiling at the kid. She was about to say it was fine when she heard a familiar voice from behind—

“Ding Ya?”

Ding Ya turned. Shu Chi, coat open, strode over from behind. The little girl who’d bumped her quickly walked over, calling out, “Auntie.”

Xiaohu came to stand beside Shu Chi, explaining, “I wanted to see the big shrimp. I ran too fast and bumped into this older sister.”

Shu Chi steadied the child and apologized to Ding Ya, noticing the man clearly with Ding Ya. She quietly withdrew her gaze.

Ding Ya: “What a coincidence.”

Just then, a phone call came in. Ding Shuqing walked aside to answer it.

Ding Ya pulled the shopping cart over, asking, “This kid is…?”

Shu Chi: “Jing Yuqi’s daughter.”

Ding Ya smiled at the child. “Hi there. Don’t go running around in the supermarket.”

Xiaohu leaned against Shu Chi, lifting her head to look at Ding Ya. Her gaze was serious, as if identifying something. After a moment, she tugged at the pocket of Shu Chi’s coat.

Shu Chi looked down. Xiaohu asked in her baby voice, “Is this the older sister you were on the phone with that day?”

Auntie and Older Sister—very straightforward terms of address.

Ding Ya laughed out loud. “Which day?”

Shu Chi let out an “Mm.”

She glanced at Ding Ya and noticed the other was dressed especially cute today.

A red-and-white diamond-quilted knit coat, a cream-colored skirt underneath, and Mary Janes with tassels strung with pearls. She glanced at Ding Shuqing and asked, “Is he your…?”

As she finished, Shu Chi looked at Ding Ya’s shopping cart, piled high, full of food, like buying groceries for a week.

Ding Ya: “Guess?”

She walked a bit closer to Shu Chi. Their height difference was already big, and Ding Ya’s frame was small. At a glance, the size gap was huge too.

Shu Chi didn’t look at her, pretending to eye the milk on the cooler shelf. Her fingers were already reaching out when she said with certainty, “Not your boyfriend.”

Ding Ya moved even closer. She reached out and took the blueberry milk Shu Chi was about to grab. “Why couldn’t he be?”

Shu Chi noticed Ding Ya’s voice softened when talking to her.

Usually, people talking to kids would adjust their voice closer to the child’s, like Mu Ling, who seemed a bit childish too when talking to Xiaohu.

But Ding Ya didn’t.

Shu Chi’s hand grabbed air. She withdrew it casually and said flatly, “You said you’re still in love with your online romance husband from before.”

Ding Ya didn’t care that she’d already taken one milk. “Does that conflict with me dating someone new? Online is online in the end. I can’t stay chaste for him forever, right?”

Shu Chi thought of how this person had angrily texted her about her online romance lying to her.

There was no cancer, no death. He’d just stopped talking to her.

Just like what happened to me.

But my wife didn’t even give me a reason for the lie.

Shu Chi couldn’t refute this statement. After all, Jing Yuqi had said the same thing.

Shu Chi knew it was true.

She was silent for a long time, finally squeezing out a sentence: “So you want both?”

This sounded pretty scummy. Ding Ya was completely unbothered by this scummy-woman persona updating in Shu Chi’s mind.

She nodded matter-of-factly. “Why not? Who knows if he has a wife in real life. Same difference, right?”

It sounded like angry pouting, plus with her voice, the implication was clear.

Shu Chi said softly, “That’s not right…”

Ding Ya could barely hold back her laugh. She thought: Is this person an elementary schooler?

Why is she so stubborn?

She turned her head to look at Shu Chi again. “What about you? Has that wife of yours responded to you?”

Mentioning this made Shu Chi’s mouth twitch. After that “Long time no see,” her online wife Bean Sprout had disappeared again.

She deeply loathed these intangible internet relationships. But the current her was, after all, a product shaped by that past relationship. It was like a love-hate tangle she couldn’t reasonably separate.

Shu Chi didn’t answer the question. She saw Ding Ya’s phone screen light up again from a message, and asked instinctively, “So you didn’t reply to me because you were with this person?”

Right then, Ding Shuqing, who’d been off to the side on his call, walked back and happened to overhear this.

He felt immediately uncomfortable and asked, “This is…?”

He walked over to Ding Ya’s side, standing quite close, far exceeding the normal personal space between strangers.

Shu Chi stepped aside, pulling Xiaohu with her.

The child said nothing. She felt this scene was familiar—like when mom’s new boyfriend ran into the old boyfriend.

So the pretty older sister Auntie Shu Chi liked had a boyfriend?

Ding Ya called out, “Bro. She’s the boss of my partner company. We’ve also eaten together privately before.”

Her introduction was official from the start. Even the word “privately” sounded like she was saving face.

Shu Chi felt a strange discomfort, but in this moment, she didn’t refute it.

Ding Shuqing let out an “Oh” and greeted Shu Chi. “Hello, I’m Ding Ya’s older brother.”

The siblings weren’t in the same industry at all. Ding Shuqing wasn’t dressed like an insurance salesman. At first glance, he looked quite ordinary.

The intimacy between them seemed both present and absent—the kind of atmosphere no outsider could penetrate.

Family.

Shu Chi felt dejected. She never had this kind of family.

She said, “Hello, my name is Shu Chi. I gave Ding Ya a dog before.”

The next second, Ding Ya raised an eyebrow at Shu Chi, flashing a smile that wasn’t quite a smile.

Shu Chi coughed awkwardly, remembering how Ding Ya had introduced her to her mother before.

She hadn’t expected to be on the receiving end of that herself one day. It was a bit awkward.

Ding Shuqing let out an “Ah.” His eyes suddenly sharpened—

“So you’re the one who gave my sister that dog online?”