Is This The Right Way To Repay A Favor? Chapter 22
byBesides “accidentally” cutting his hand, Jiang Zhou also secretly decided not to eat dinner.
But he couldn’t appear too deliberate, so he still sat at the dining table with everyone, occasionally lifting his water glass for a sip, and sometimes picking up his chopsticks to pretend to pick up food.
The other guests were chatting lively and didn’t pay special attention to his actions for a while.
That is, until Shen Zhiyu quietly placed a piece of crispy bone in his bowl.
“Mr. Jiang made it himself. Won’t you try it?”
They were sitting diagonally across from each other. Shen Zhiyu’s voice was low and didn’t attract the attention of others.
But the look he directed at Jiang Zhou was exceptionally focused, clearly adopting a posture that said, “You must eat this.”
Jiang Zhou struggled internally. On one side was the “price” he had set for himself, but on the other was Shen Zhiyu’s gaze, which brooked no refusal.
In the end, he lost to that look.
He picked up the crispy bone from his bowl and quietly ate it.
Shen Zhiyu still watched him. “Is it good?”
Jiang Zhou nodded.
He wasn’t sure if it was because the pan had been changed or for some other reason, but he felt that the crispy bone stir-fried with tea leaves tonight did seem a bit tastier than the one at noon.
“If it’s good, eat more.” Shen Zhiyu said, placing a few more pieces of crispy bone into his bowl.
Yu Liang, who was nearby, noticed and also added a piece for him. “That’s right, Mr. Jiang, you’re too thin. Eat more.”
“Thin?” Cai Zhiyang was particularly sensitive to this word, and almost instinctively added another piece to Jiang Zhou’s bowl. “Ah Liang is right. Mr. Jiang, you need to nourish yourself. Everyone will worry if you’re too thin.”
Hearing this, the other guests also enthusiastically started putting meat into his bowl.
Before long, the food in Jiang Zhou’s bowl was piled up like a small mountain.
Everyone looked at him in unison and said in one voice, “Mr. Jiang, eat more!”
Under the concerned and slightly teasing gazes of the crowd, Jiang Zhou could only helplessly, bite by bite, finish everything.
—
After dinner, everyone walked in pairs and groups around the Peach Blossom Spring, agreeing to meet at Lingyin Pavilion at seven o’clock to draw Tarot cards for Heart’s Whisper.
Jiang Zhou deliberately kept his distance from Shen Zhiyu, so he followed Cai Zhiyang the whole way.
Cai Zhiyang was also a talkative person, and his mouth didn’t stop moving throughout the walk.
Jiang Zhou’s head started to ache from listening, and finally, he couldn’t resist. He used the excuse of needing to use the restroom to break away from the walking group.
The Peach Blossom Spring was converted from former walled houses, and the public restrooms were located in the corners, in relatively secluded spots.
The production team was tactful enough not to follow him. The cameraman stopped far away, waiting for Jiang Zhou to finish before continuing to film.
Jiang Zhou locked the stall door and skillfully inserted his fingers into his throat.
After a violent spasm, the crispy bone and vegetable leaves he had just eaten surged up his throat. He reflexively hunched his back, emitting a suppressed and shameful retching sound.
As the spasm subsided slightly, Jiang Zhou wiped away the tears at the corners of his eyes and, without hesitation, put his fingers back into his mouth.
His stomach convulsed upwards, and more partially digested food mixed with acid rushed out again.
Just then, footsteps suddenly sounded outside the door.
Jiang Zhou quickly wiped away his tears and the residue from the corners of his mouth, then pressed the flush button.
He waited quietly in the stall for a moment before pushing the door open.
As soon as he stepped out, he saw Shen Zhiyu standing by the public sink, leaning half his body against the wall, his gaze fixed deeply on him.
Jiang Zhou felt a slight pang of guilt from being watched.
He hadn’t expected to run into Shen Zhiyu here.
Jiang Zhou bit the bullet and greeted him, “Brother Yu.”
Shen Zhiyu didn’t respond, just continued to stare at him.
Under his intense scrutiny, Jiang Zhou awkwardly turned on the faucet.
As the water flowed, Shen Zhiyu slowly spoke.
“Purging?”
Jiang Zhou’s body stiffened, and his head drooped lower.
All attempts at denial were futile at this moment.
He must have heard it.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t have exposed him so directly.
“Do you do this often?” Shen Zhiyu stared at him, not missing a single expression on Jiang Zhou’s face.
Shen Zhiyu had specifically followed Jiang Zhou when he left the group, intending to tease the little cat, but he hadn’t expected to catch him purging.
A surge of nameless anger flared up. He almost wanted to grab Jiang Zhou immediately and demand an explanation—what exactly was going through this person’s mind?
To engage in purging.
Other people purge to lose weight. But he was already so thin; what more did he have to throw up?
Did he rely on purging to lose weight before?
The more Shen Zhiyu thought about it, the angrier he became, eventually reaching a point where he didn’t even know what he was angry about.
There was no relationship between them. What did it matter to him if Jiang Zhou wanted to ruin himself?
Shen Zhiyu forcefully suppressed his anger, trying to calm down, but after only two seconds of composure, the moment he saw Jiang Zhou’s appearance walking out of the restroom, the anger surged up again.
Hmph, a walking skeleton and a pale ghost.
The walking skeleton even cautiously greeted him upon emerging.
Shen Zhiyu scanned him up and down, his gaze falling on the hands being washed under the running water.
Pale and bloodless, so thin that the bones were visible.
As thin as the clumsy cat he had picked up back then.
Jiang Zhou froze for a few seconds, offering no reply.
Silence was consent.
This person truly had many bad habits.
Intentionally cutting his hand, purging, and driving while distracted.
Yet, for some reason, Shen Zhiyu not only didn’t lose interest in Jiang Zhou but instead felt a strong, inexplicable urge to probe and conquer him.
He looked at Jiang Zhou again.
Jiang Zhou was handsome and refined, the typical image of a well-behaved, top student.
He was dressed extremely formally today: a black turtleneck sweater, a black woolen coat, black pants, and black leather shoes.
This style shouldn’t have suited his face, but the calm and mature aura Jiang Zhou often exuded made it all seem less jarring.
After purging, fine beads of sweat still clung to his pale cheeks.
Shen Zhiyu felt a warmth in his chest, and his hands started itching again.
It had been so long, and he hadn’t even managed to stroke the cat’s fur. How unlucky.
Shen Zhiyu was unsettled by this thought and finally withdrew his gaze, no longer looking at Jiang Zhou.
His voice, for some unknown reason, carried a strange hoarseness. “This is a bad habit. You need to change it.”
Jiang Zhou nodded obediently, like a student caught doing something wrong by the teacher.
“Can you change it?” Teacher Shen asked again.
Student Jiang didn’t dare to guarantee it. “I’ll try my best.”
Hearing the answer, Teacher Shen’s expression didn’t relax; it deepened by two points.
“If I catch you next time, there will be a punishment.”
“Mr. Jiang, watch yourself.”
—
In the evening, everyone arrived at Heart’s Whisper.
The small shop was converted from an old wing room on the east side of the Peach Blossom Spring. After pushing the door open, they were enveloped in a faint, warm orange light. Heavy velvet curtains blocked out external sounds, and the air was filled with a mixture of sandalwood and coffee scents.
The walls were covered with various ancient constellation patterns, astrological hangings, and tapestries embroidered with mysterious symbols. Soft, ethereal female chanting drifted from the counter.
The group walked toward the counter.
The counter was made of dark cherry wood, with several decks of different styles of Tarot cards scattered casually on top, along with a few candles. A transparent crystal ball sat in the center, reflecting the flickering candlelight.
Dong Qianqian had specially changed into a star-patterned robe and wore a subtle veil over her face, adding a touch of mystery.
“Wow! Qianqian, this Tarot room is well decorated! It looks just like a real one outside!”
Cai Zhiyang’s opening remark immediately shattered the mysterious atmosphere in the shop.
Dong Qianqian gave him an annoyed elbow jab. “I beg you to be quiet.”
“Alright, alright, I won’t say anything.”
“Then can I draw a card?”
“Help me look at my recent love fortune. Where is my true love? When will I meet them?”
“Please sit.” Dong Qianqian motioned for him to sit in the main seat in front of the crystal ball.
Cai Zhiyang eagerly sat down, and the other guests also gathered around.
Following the instructions, he closed his eyes, held his breath, and quickly and devoutly drew two cards. He flipped them over abruptly, then nervously covered his eyes, peeking through his fingers.
The Nine of Cups, upright. A satisfied man with folded arms, with nine cups filled with fine wine lined up behind him.
And the Knight of Wands, upright. A high-spirited, brave knight raising a wand and galloping on horseback.
“Wow!” Cai Zhiyang immediately dropped his hands, his eyes shining with surprise as he pointed at the cards. “Look! The Nine of Cups! I knew my love life would be super fulfilling! And the Knight! Isn’t that super romantic?!”
Everyone was amused by his exaggerated reaction.
Dong Qianqian looked at the cards seriously, the corners of her eyes curving with an all-knowing tease. “Hmm, nine cups… the inner satisfaction and beautiful fantasies about love are indeed overflowing.”
She pointed her finger at the man on the Nine of Cups. “You, you’re like someone soaking in your own carefully brewed pink honey, seeing everyone as a romantic drama lead, right?”
A few stifled laughs came from the side.
Cai Zhiyang nodded vigorously, admitting without blushing, “Exactly! Isn’t romance supposed to be sweet and full of fantasy?”
While talking, he didn’t forget to pull out his phone and take a picture of his card spread, ready to show off on various social media platforms later.
Dong Qianqian smiled and shook her head, moving her finger to the Knight of Wands, who seemed to enter with a whirlwind of hormones.
“As for the true love you’re hoping for… look,” she tapped the image of the knight on the card. “The passion of the fire element is coming. The Knight of Wands has explosive action, is direct and enthusiastic like a tornado, and will create surprises. If things move fast, maybe…?”
Cai Zhiyang was completely hooked and eagerly pressed, “When? When?”
“Next month,” Dong Qianqian said.
After speaking, Dong Qianqian pointed at the dust kicked up by the horse’s hooves, unable to resist emphasizing a warning. “But! The speed and momentum of this knight are likely proportional to how quickly her passion fades. What she brings is more of that instant heart-pounding, adrenaline-spiking excitement.”
“Oh, I know. The most important thing is the feeling! The heartbeat!” Cai Zhiyang clearly only heard the words “next month” and “true love,” completely ignoring the later advice.
Cai Zhiyang happily took his cards, looking left and right, giving the Knight of Wands a sweet, silly smile, as if the knight was about to step out of the card and go on a date with him.
He held up his phone and took another selfie with the cards, posting it on various social platforms.
“Next month, waiting for true love to arrive.”
“Next up.”