First Encounter
On the day of the Wen family Young Master’s funeral, a heavy snow fell.
A gloomy, leaden sky pressed down upon the entire estate, lowering the atmosphere to a suffocating weight. Solemn, heavy dirges played as a priest stood to the side, whispering eulogies in a low voice, praying for God to guide the lost soul into the sanctity of “Heaven.”
In the vast cemetery, men and women dressed in black suits and formal wear stood in rows. Heads bowed, umbrellas raised, they mourned in silence. At a glance, the scene resembled a “dark sea,” as if the entire world had been stripped of color, left only in black and white.
By now, some had lowered their heads, burying their faces in handkerchiefs to weep softly…
But if you could look into their eyes, you would discover a different story entirely. Behind the varied expressions lay fleeting glints of cold calculation, and beneath those handkerchiefs, corners of mouths curled in secret delight.
Amidst the wind and swirling snow, only one man, clad in a trench coat, walked slowly through the crowd. He held no umbrella, and no one followed him. The fluttering snowflakes landed on his shoulders, dyeing his black coat as pale as the earth beneath his feet.
The snow fell gracefully, accumulating layer by layer until, gradually, it seemed to weigh down the man’s very spine.
Ignoring the whispers of the crowd, the man—whose features were sculpted and exquisite—dropped to one knee. He slowly lowered his head and, with devout reverence, kissed the photograph of the man on the tombstone.
My dear, please don’t leave me alone…
The first time Wen Xubai met Qi Zui was in a small alleyway.
That day, he had just gotten off a plane, dragging a body full of exhaustion, wanting only to find a place to rest. But inexplicably, as he gazed at the dark sky in the distance, his feet felt as heavy as lead; he simply could not take the step forward.
He didn’t want to go back to that “home.”
With a soft sigh, Wen Xubai resigned himself to dragging his suitcase out of the airport, wandering aimlessly through the city.
The wheels of his suitcase rolled over the bluestone pavement, making a continuous clack-clack-clack sound.
He didn’t know how long he walked, but when he finally lifted his eyes, he had no idea where he was.
It looked like a dilapidated residential area, old and decaying—a place he had never been before.
He intended to turn around and leave immediately, but a savory aroma wafted toward him, rooting him to the spot.
His stomach let out an untimely growl.
He was, indeed, a bit hungry.
He hadn’t eaten anything since boarding the plane earlier that day. The airline food had been unappetizing, so he had only taken two bites of rice before setting it aside.
Sighing lightly, Wen Xubai accepted his fate and dragged his suitcase inside.
“Guest, what’ll you have?”
As soon as he entered the shop, a bright, resonant voice rang in his ears.
Wen Xubai looked toward the sound and couldn’t help but pause.
He saw a young man wearing a black tank top, gripping a rag that had turned dark from use. His tall, large frame seemed trapped within the small confines of the kitchen station, looking a bit cramped. He was bent over, one hand propped on the counter as he wiped it, looking up to ask the question.
Handsome brows, a high-bridged nose, an upturned smile, and eyes brimming with spirit… He looked to be about the same age as Wen Xubai.
Through the stack of pots, pans, and the haze of steam, the man’s face drifted in and out of view.
There weren’t many people in the shop at this hour. The young man gazed at him from across the room, but seeing Wen Xubai remain silent, he assumed the guest hadn’t heard him. He quickly wiped his hands, stepped over the low partition of the stove with his long legs, grabbed a notepad from a table, and in a few strides stood right in front of Wen Xubai.
“Guest, what would you like to eat?” the man asked with a radiant smile, revealing a row of pearly white teeth.
Sweat from his forehead, caused by his vigorous movements, trickled down slowly. It slid past his deep-set eyes and sharp jawline, disappearing into the loose neckline of his tank top, rolling over a wheat-colored chest where it glistened under the restaurant lights.
Wen Xubai finally pulled back his wandering thoughts. Seeing the man still looking at him expectantly, he hurriedly glanced at the menu on the wall.
Scanning it quickly, he realized this was actually a noodle shop.
Wen Xubai pursed his lips, his gaze finally locking onto a name in the very center. He slowly uttered a few words: “Yangchun noodles, thank you.”
“Coming right up! Just a moment!” The man raised his hand and jotted it down quickly. His bangs fell forward, obscuring his thick, dark eyebrows slightly.
After writing, he brushed his hair back with a crisp, clean motion and nimbly swung his leg back. The noodle shop was small to begin with, and with that step back, he returned perfectly to his station by the stove.
Listening to the glug-glug of boiling water, Wen Xubai finally relaxed. Exhaustion surged back into his heart, and he couldn’t help but let go of his tension, leaning his head against the wall and wearily rubbing the space between his brows.
When he opened his eyes, the angle allowed him to see straight into the kitchen area.
The young man’s hands were covered in flour as he rapidly pulled the dough. He didn’t even notice the flour on his face. His movements were fast and powerful.
Seemingly sensing a strange gaze, the man looked up while kneading the dough, his eyes meeting Wen Xubai’s once again.
Wen Xubai: “…”
Not expecting to be caught so quickly, Wen Xubai pressed his lips together, debating whether to look away. But the man laughed again—a smile with a hint of roguish charm—and tossed his head up, beckoning to him.
Wen Xubai’s mouth twitched slightly; he didn’t understand what was happening.
The next second, he watched as the man’s large hand grabbed the dough he had just pulled, wrapped it quickly around his hand, and then, like a circus performance, began to spin and fling it in front of him with a whoosh-whoosh-whoosh.
As he spun the dough, he raised his eyebrows at Wen Xubai with a triumphant look.
That expression practically screamed: Look, aren’t I awesome?! Paired with the white flour on his face, it was slightly comical.
Wen Xubai couldn’t help it; the corners of his mouth hooked upward.
Seeing him smile, the man grinned even wider.
After that display, the noodles were sufficiently pulled. Boiling them took no time at all.
The man expertly strained the noodles, the veins in his forearm bulging slightly from the weight. With a dashing turn, he sprinkled chopped green onions like a celestial maiden scattering flowers, then scooped up the bowl with one large hand and placed it in front of Wen Xubai.
“Guest, your Yangchun noodles!”
Wen Xubai looked down and said blankly, “I… didn’t order a fried egg.”
“It’s a gift. No charge,” the man laughed.
This person really loved to smile.
Wen Xubai’s heart skipped a beat. He quickly looked away and whispered, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome!” the man replied loudly.
Just then, new customers arrived, so the man couldn’t chat any longer. He turned around and hurried to attend to the others.
Subconsciously poking at the noodles in his bowl, Wen Xubai found himself watching the man’s busy figure, momentarily lost in thought.
It wasn’t until the scent of sesame oil reached his nose that Wen Xubai snapped out of it.
The noodles, mixed with the aroma of soy sauce, instantly stimulated his appetite. Wen Xubai hadn’t been that hungry before, but now he truly felt famished.
Thinking this, he picked up his chopsticks, picked up a mouthful of noodles, blew on them gently, and put them in his mouth.
The savory richness of the soup instantly spread across his tongue—a base flavor slowly simmered from bone broth, mixed with the fresh scent of green onions. It wasn’t heavy or overpowering. The noodles slid smoothly down his throat, leaving a lingering fragrance of wheat…
He had always been a refined eater who ate slowly, but perhaps because he was truly starving, the bowl was empty in less than fifteen minutes.
Wen Xubai was not a person with a large appetite; his stomach was small. Usually, worried that being too full would affect his work efficiency and wishing to stay sharp, he only ever ate until he was half-full.
Even amidst the mountains of delicacies at the Wen household, he usually felt a lack of interest.
But right now, he felt as though he hadn’t had enough…
It had been a long time since he had tasted something like this…
Just as he was lost in thought, in the blink of an eye, the empty bowl in front of him vanished!
Wen Xubai looked up in shock, only to see a pair of large hands passing through his line of sight, placing another large bowl in front of him.
Looking up along those hands, he saw an extremely sturdy arm. It wasn’t the bulky muscle of a gym-goer, but the lean, refined muscle built from years of hard labor.
At this moment, veins were popping on that arm from exertion. Focusing his gaze, Wen Xubai realized the object in the man’s hand was another complete bowl of Yangchun noodles.
The owner of the arm noticed his confusion and whispered an explanation: “Don’t worry, this bowl is free. I’m treating you.”
Wen Xubai generally disliked being looked down upon from above, but for some reason, this man’s gaze didn’t make him uncomfortable.
In those dark, shining eyes, there was not a trace of disdain or contempt. There was even a hint of… heartache?
Wen Xubai thought he must be truly exhausted—so tired his brain was broken—to be having such delusional thoughts… Why would a person feel heartache for a stranger they had never met?
Yet, he couldn’t help but ask:
“What is your name?”
“Huh? Me?” The man, who was about to leave, was stopped in his tracks. It took him a moment to react before he announced loudly, “I’m Qi Zui! The ‘Zui’ meaning ‘the most awesome’!”
As he spoke, he even gave a thumbs up.
Qi Zui…
Wen Xubai silently repeated the name in his heart.
Qi Zui scratched his head, a little confused.
He had noticed the guest the moment he stood at the door. The man’s cold, pale skin was out of place in the dark night, and the aura of nobility he radiated clashed violently with the dilapidated alley.
He had assumed the man was just passing through and would leave in a moment, but he actually walked in and sat down.
Qi Zui had been busy wiping the counter, so he had called out to ask what he wanted. In this neighborhood, everyone was busy making a living; no one cared about formalities or considered it rude.
But that guest hadn’t spoken for a long time.
When Qi Zui looked up, he saw the exhaustion etched into the man’s face. Thinking the guest hadn’t heard him, Qi Zui had walked over.
But when he got close, before he could even speak, Qi Zui was startled.
The guest was incredibly pale—the kind of cold pallor that comes from never seeing the sun. His eyebrows were exquisitely shaped, but the ends ticked upward slightly, adding a touch of distant arrogance. His eyelashes were extremely long, and as he looked down, he carried an air of faint detachment.
One look was enough to tell he came from a wealthy background; it was a nobility nurtured from childhood.
But when Qi Zui looked down further, he suddenly became confused.
This guest was far too thin. The half-exposed forearm emerging from his cuff was so slender it looked like it would snap in a grip. The hand resting on the table was the same—knuckles prominent, fingertips tinged with a faint, sickly blue-white.
Looking down along the slender lines of his neck, Qi Zui’s gaze accidentally slipped into the slightly loose collar, catching sight of exposed collarbones and ribs that were visible to the naked eye.
Too thin. He was truly too thin.
Was it malnutrition?
His gaze involuntarily drifted to the suitcase resting against the wall… Qi Zui couldn’t help but shake his head inwardly.
He had seen plenty of people who insisted on keeping up appearances even when they were down and out.
But he understood. Clothes make the man, just as a saddle makes the horse. No one likes to show their vulnerable side to others.
No wonder he was so thin; he didn’t look very old either…
Had he been kicked out by his family?
Qi Zui peeked out from the kitchen station, looking at the man eating his noodles slowly and methodically, and shook his head with a sigh.
He fingered the few coins in his pocket, and finally, made up his mind.
Wen Xubai was stunned by the way the man was looking at him and asked blankly, “What’s wrong?”
He looked down at his clothes—the buttons weren’t undone, and there were no oil stains, right?
“Nothing, nothing,” Qi Zui secretly wiped away a tear in his heart. “Please, take your time.” Then, he hurriedly fled the scene.
Leaving Wen Xubai standing alone, bewildered in the metaphorical wind…
Wen Xubai: “???”
What a strange person…
Wen Xubai wondered.
But… also quite nice…
Wen Xubai looked again at the steaming bowl of noodles in front of him.
Two bowls of noodles were really too much for him. Wen Xubai ate half of the second bowl and intended to put down his chopsticks. But when he looked up, he saw Qi Zui staring at him with burning intensity.
It really wasn’t good to waste someone’s kindness…
The chopsticks in his hand instantly felt like a hot potato. Wen Xubai had to brace himself and finish the entire bowl.
By the time he finished, he felt as if his stomach was about to explode.
Suppressing the urge to vomit, Wen Xubai walked to the front desk to pay.
“Hello, that will be 12 yuan total. Will you be paying by scan or cash?”
The cashier was a young girl; Qi Zui was busy pulling noodles for other customers.
Wen Xubai took out his phone, his eyes involuntarily lingering on the man’s back for a moment. In the end, he paid for both bowls of noodles.
Recommended Reads
![[ABO] After Accidental Marking, I Became Everyone’s Darling](https://beereads.space/wp-content/uploads/2025/02/ABO-225x300.jpeg)
