Chapter 10: Not in a Good Mood

“…I didn’t cry.” Li Ran touched his face with his left hand but didn’t feel any tears.

He didn’t think Chi Mo was the type to joke around, and besides, how could a big shot like him be wrong? So he doubted his own left hand instead and didn’t dare question Chi Mo’s conclusion. He slowly brought his right hand into play, carefully feeling his face in a pose that rivaled narcissistic self-admiration.

His right hand lied to him too. No tears.

“Hm, I must’ve seen wrong.” Chi Mo crossed the street and walked right up to Li Ran, facing him directly as he irresponsibly said, “I saw you walking with your head down just now and thought you were crying.”

He’d told Li Ran to come over, but Li Ran was too honest. Before crossing, he had to first check just how much he’d been crying. He kept switching hands to touch his face. And Chi Mo, accustomed to single-minded focus, could only handle one thing at a time.

Anything more was too much.

Tired of wasting time, Chi Mo came over himself. His aura clashed completely with the rundown neighborhood backdrop.

“…” Li Ran’s lips moved as he desperately wanted to fire back something, but as soon as the man approached, that sensation of being locked onto by a cold, venomous snake shot straight to the top of his head. The pressure was immense, so he pathetically swallowed his words.

Even more pathetically, he said, “…Oh. I didn’t cry.”

“Mm.” Chi Mo replied casually. “Where’d you go? It’s so late.”

Li Ran looked down at the little stone, now even dirtier from his kick. “I rode the subway for a few hours.”

Almost everyone in the old neighborhood knew that Bai Qingqing and Li Ang fought every other day—a small one—and every three days—a big one—with occasional physical scuffles.

Of course, it was always Bai Qingqing beating Li Ang. Li Ang was too spineless; he chose silence during arguments and endured the hits. Divorce was just a matter of time.

But hardly anyone knew the real reason for their split—just that their personalities didn’t mesh.

They fought and hit behind closed doors, keeping it to themselves and never gossiping to neighbors to avoid giving them something to laugh about.

Bai Qingqing had a fiery temper but a tight lip. She smiled at everyone, spoke loudly, and never aired family laundry. Li Ang only chatted with close acquaintances; he ignored everyone else, even tighter-lipped—a real gourd with a sawed-off mouth.

As their child, Li Ran inherited it genetically and learned it by osmosis. Terrified of his mom’s temper, he didn’t pick up Bai Qingqing’s impatience and ended up more like his spineless dad.

Other kids complained about dads not buying game consoles or moms not letting them watch TV—such a drag. But Li Ran never talked about home.

And he never commented on others’ business either.

After putting down his face-touching right hand, Li Ran thought to himself that his hands hadn’t lied after all. Even big shots could say the wrong thing.

“Here.” Chi Mo handed over two long, dark bars. “Chocolate. Take it.”

They were rectangular and huge.

The packaging had no flashy patterns or colors—just simple fonts, probably a famous brand’s logo. Li Ran didn’t recognize it.

Fancy foreign script. Imported snack.

“…Thank you.” Li Ran didn’t ask why Chi Mo was giving him chocolate, nor had he learned to refuse.

If it was offered, he took it. If he took it, he gave thanks.

The chocolate, now his to command, rustled softly in Li Ran’s grip. A pleasant sound.

The metallic gray cellophane was hard to make out under the dim streetlights. No wonder it looked pitch black from afar.

“Eat it,” Chi Mo said.

“Huh… now?” Li Ran asked in surprise. Even as he spoke, his hands honestly started peeling the wrapper.

He did want something sweet right now.

Chocolate and cake were the yummiest.

In Li Ran’s mind, kids’ favorite chocolates were always loaded with sugar and tasted amazing.

So when the intense bitterness exploded across his tongue and between his teeth, Li Ran’s expression shifted in spectacular fashion, his lips twitching.

His fingers clenched hard on the bitten chunk of dark chocolate, looking like he wanted to shudder violently.

Like eating a lemon.

Li Ran reacted the same to lemons.

But with Chi Mo—this “outsider”—standing there, he forced down the full-body shiver from the 100% pure bitter chocolate assault. He kept a perfect expression, didn’t chew a second time, and swallowed the whole bitter piece in one gulp.

As if he’d savored it.

“You like it?” Chi Mo asked.

“…” Li Ran wanted to say no, but he was afraid of hurting Chi Mo’s feelings.

The guy gave him something, and he’d complain?

But he didn’t want to lie through his teeth either.

His taste buds were bitter enough to cry over.

“Little brother! Little brother, thank goodness you’re here—come help me!” Miss Li approached lugging three stacked boxes. She spotted Li Ran in her peripheral vision but missed Chi Mo ahead of him and called out excitedly for assistance.

Li Ran dashed over on command. “Okay, okay. Coming!”

Before reaching out to steady the boxes, he instinctively shoved the two chocolates back into Chi Mo’s hands—one still wrapped, one bitten—and asked him to hold them.

He didn’t forget to say, “Thanks, Mr. Chi.”

After last time’s help, Li Ran figured he and Miss Li were half-friends now. He worked freely, no more hesitation.

“Yesterday, I told the gate guard uncle to remove my license plate from the list since I won’t be living here anymore—saves me another trip. He was reluctant after I explained, chatting me up nonstop.” Miss Li panted as she set down the two boxes Li Ran had taken, leaving one, and laughed wryly. “But I forgot how efficient this place’s guard uncle is. Today, I wanted to drive right up to the apartment to make moving easier. And guess what, haha, I’m done for—he’d already removed my plate.”

“Yesterday, he was all heart-to-heart, saying Little Li’s so pretty, young with a house and car—what man couldn’t she get? Even suggested his successful boss nephew, so enthusiastic it was overwhelming. Today? ‘Follow the rules—pretty or not doesn’t matter.’ That stubborn head of his, haha…”

She leaned sideways against the car, hands on hips to rest. “I’m lazy sometimes. He wanted me to register, but I couldn’t be bothered to grab a pen. Figured it’s just one more trip anyway—why bother? So I drove in and started unloading.”

“Damn, who knew? Holy shit, now I have to move everything three times.” Miss Li laughed in frustration at herself, punching the car hood. It beeped, thinking it’d been hit—rear lights flashing. You could tell her strength was cow-like when mad. “First load didn’t finish it, thought the second would do without registering—then third time… Holy shit, how’d I accumulate so much crap these years? Just dumb photos: 1800 of ’em.”

Miss Li punched the car again; it beeped on.

As a proper listener, Li Ran quietly stepped back half a pace the second time, shyly clasping his left hand with his right, keeping his distance.

If she punched him, he couldn’t beep like the car—no one would know he was hurt. And Li Ran wasn’t the type to wail on the ground after a hit.

If he ever crashed his bike someday and a good Samaritan asked if he needed help, he’d just say, “I’m cooling off—the ground’s nice and cool.”

He’d done that stupid thing as a kid.

Just learning to bike, failed, crashed on the roadside. Someone came to help; mortified, he lay red-faced, buried his face in his arms, and mumbled, “I’m just playing here… don’t mind me.”

Never looked up or opened his eyes to see the helper. Not once.

Tonight, Miss Li was extra chatty, her vocabulary richer than usual, laced with national treasures. Every time, Li Ran held his breath, pretending he hadn’t heard the swears with ears plugged.

Didn’t dare cover them—rude.

Anyone else would’ve tuned out long ago, baffled why she’d unload on a kid she’d barely spoken to before.

But Li Ran got it.

Miss Li wasn’t really talking to him. She was talking to the old neighborhood. To her own past.

As she’d said, this was her last time here. Never again.

The complex was clean enough but “jade within gold”—its exterior rundown, with huge red “Demolish” characters spray-painted on the street-facing walls.

Li Ran had lived here since birth; those characters had always been there, but no one acted on them. Rumor was the old folks—grannies, grandpas—had lived here their whole lives, too conservative to change. They refused to move, didn’t want demolition payout or two new apartments. No deal.

Government had no choice. Wait it out.

Across the street, what was rundown decades ago had become a ritzy rich district—worlds apart.

“I’m off!” Miss Li vented through Li Ran, unembarrassed, not feeling she’d wasted his time. Instead, relieved and lightened, she clapped his shoulder heartily. “Won’t see you again… uh, is that your boyfriend?”

The pivot was too sharp; Li Ran didn’t react. But Miss Li suddenly felt awkward, startled by the man behind him, then jumped again realizing he was staring at her… hand.

Creepy in the dead of night.

With keen perception, she yanked her hand back, admired her pretty nails, and said seriously to Li Ran, “Your boyfriend’s great.”

Super handsome. Looked super dominant.

Super studly.

“No… you’ve got it wrong…” Li Ran’s delicate brows furrowed prettily. He worried mentioning man-on-man would remind her of her cheating ex, making her dislike him. Worse, if she really thought he and Mr. Chi… they were both guys.

“I’m not close with Mr. Chi.”

Miss Li wasn’t a kid. Like all adults, she overcomplicated things.

She figured Li Ran was covering up, hence the panic. She shifted tone immediately—no judgment—to put him at ease, explaining her views earnestly.

“I’ve got no issue with any normal relationship. It’s just my ex cheated with a guy while dating me—that’s what disgusted me.” Miss Li said sincerely. “But you two dating normally? Totally fine. I mean it. I’m pretty open-minded—not just being polite.”

“…No… really not.”

Li Ran blushed. Anxiously.

Chi Mo stayed silent the whole time.

Miss Li locked eyes with Li Ran for two seconds, realizing her near-thirty adult brain was too dirty—she’d caused the real misunderstanding.

She owned up decisively, saluted him in apology, then awkwardly fled to her car, revved the engine, and peeled out.

Gone in a blink.

Only after the car vanished and the flush fully faded from his face did Li Ran turn toward Chi Mo. His steps were snail-slow.

Chi Mo wasn’t the helpful type. He didn’t know Miss Li and wouldn’t lift a finger for her frenzy unless she asked outright, “Sir, help me.” He wouldn’t mind sparing time.

She hadn’t called him—hadn’t even seen him—so he stayed put.

He knew Li Ran, but when Li Ran helped her, he hadn’t said, “Mr. Chi, help me.”

Worried Miss Li’s wild misunderstanding had offended Chi Mo, Li Ran shuffled over slowly, wanting to say something to ease the air.

If he could make Mr. Chi not mind, even better.

Then he saw Chi Mo’s tall frame half-hidden in the dim light, eyes down, ignoring him as he methodically ate the whole unwrapped pure bitter chocolate.

His teeth snapped it cleanly; the sound carried an eerie, terrifying edge in the night.

Li Ran swallowed.

Not from fear.

“…Not bitter?” he whispered.

Chi Mo ignored him. His face was expressionless—no hint of bitterness.

Peering closer, Li Ran suddenly spotted the issue and let out a soft “ah,” unsure if he should point it out. “Mr. Chi… the chocolate you’re eating… it’s the one I bit into earlier, right?”

His voice trailed off smaller and smaller, vanishing under Chi Mo’s light glance.

Chi Mo finished the bitter chocolate, crumpled the wrapper in his fist to toss later.

“What’s yours or mine?” His voice was indifferent. “We’re not close.”