Chapter : 10
Sister Cui didn’t know what to say for a moment, just pulling him—Zhou Qingluo—with a face full of gratitude.
After a while, she finally organized her words:
“Qingluo, thank you! The shop got a big order, and we’re swamped.”
Zhou Qingluo wiped the rain from his face and smiled:
“No problem.”
Sister Cui had a daughter, Cui Zi, who absolutely refused to date anyone. She ran a coffee shop, was independent and financially secure, and her reason for not dating was simple: she hadn’t met a handsome guy worth her attention.
The first time Sister Cui saw Zhou Qingluo, her eyes lit up. She practically wanted to push him in front of her daughter and ask: Is he handsome enough?
But Cui Zi was very decisive. Sister Cui worried she might scare Zhou Qingluo, and most good-looking men were just showpieces anyway. So she tried to subtly learn more about him first.
Unexpectedly, this young man could endure hardship, was optimistic and reliable, and could make people happy. Apart from being a bit poor, he was exactly the type any mother-in-law would like.
Being a bit poor didn’t matter—Cui Zi had money.
Sister Cui said:
“Tomorrow night I have an important order. Could you help deliver it? I’ll pay you.”
Zhou Qingluo happily agreed:
“Sure.”
Sister Cui added:
“Also, my daughter’s coffee shop is hiring, and they want attractive employees. Are you interested? The pay is definitely more than delivery.”
Zhou Qingluo grabbed some cakes and put on his helmet, neither accepting nor refusing, joking:
“Sister Cui, you’re giving me a backdoor offer.”
“Why don’t you work in my shop? Delivery is hard and accidents happen. Think about it—you can’t deliver for life, right?”
Zhou Qingluo smiled. He wouldn’t deliver forever. He just needed money now. Delivery was fast cash.
Recently, he had been studying the style of the Star Comics website. He had just been verified for a month, wrote a small comic, and submitted a four-panel strip for signing. The result would come in a couple of days.
“Thanks, Sister Cui. You go on with your work, I’ll get going too. Goodbye.”
After saying that, Zhou Qingluo quickly left. Normally, Sister Cui would now start talking about marriage plans.
Sister Cui looked at Zhou Qingluo’s back and nudged her longtime assistant:
“Old Zhang, you read faces, right? How would he be as my son-in-law?”
Old Zhang stroked his goatee and said seriously:
“He’s a good young man. From his face, his marriage star is moving this year. Love will come to him—or rather, chase after him.”
Author’s note:
Song Ling: “…”
Master: “What? Don’t agree?”
Song Ling: “Accurate.”
Chapter 5
The order Sister Cui asked Zhou Qingluo to deliver was for Lakeside Hotel. A wealthy family’s son was holding a graduation banquet and had ordered a dessert table.
Zhou Qingluo parked the van in the underground garage, moved the goods onto a cart, when a red Maserati roared in. It reversed smoothly and stopped perfectly beside their van. License plate: Ling A00000—extremely flashy.
The leftover exhaust seemed to smell like money.
Inside was a man with pale skin, wearing a clean white casual shirt. Sunglasses hid most of his face. He looked elegant yet cold.
He held a bouquet of expensive Juliet roses.
Some people naturally seem cinematic; every movement draws attention.
If Zhou Qingluo hadn’t noticed the Juliet rose tattoo on his neck artery, he might have stared a bit longer.
Zhou Qingluo quietly pulled on his mask and stacked a few more boxes on the cart to hide his face.
The other delivery person, Lou Yang, was the same age as Zhou Qingluo. He had dropped out of a top university due to severe subject imbalance. Without enough credits, no degree, and no job, he could only sell his labor.
They sympathized with each other and quickly became friends.
Lou Yang quickly warned:
“Qingluo, don’t stack too high, it might fall.”
Zhou Qingluo hadn’t gone far when he paused slightly, looked back casually, and continued walking.
He tightened his mask a bit.
Lou Yang said:
“It’s so hot, why wear a mask?”
Jokingly, Zhou Qingluo said:
“I’m allergic to luxury cars.”
Lou Yang glanced around the empty garage and chatted:
“Damn, the guy in the Maserati is insanely handsome, carrying flowers, obviously a ladies’ man.”
Zhou Qingluo remembered Song Ling’s disgusted face and teased:
“Not really. Sunglasses make him look blind.”
His voice was low, Lou Yang didn’t hear:
“What? Retarded?”
Zhou Qingluo sighed and raised his voice:
“Blind—he just has poor eyesight, not retarded.”
Lou Yang laughed:
“I thought sunglasses made him look dumb, but he’s more like a prince charming.”
Zhou Qingluo teased:
“You can’t judge a book by its cover. How do you know he’s not a…”
They turned a corner pushing the cart, and the ridiculously handsome Song Ling had taken off his sunglasses, standing outside the elevator hall smoking.
He held the flowers in one hand, a cigarette in the other, fingertips slightly red, smoke swirling. His expression was melancholy, like each smoke ring held a story.
Any casual photo could be the classic “Melancholy Prince” avatar from a decade-old QQ space.
The garage was empty, echoing with their teasing laughter.
Zhou Qingluo: “…”
As the saying goes, don’t talk about people in the day, don’t talk about ghosts at night.
Zhou Qingluo realized the power of this proverb and silently vowed not to speak ill of anyone, whether god or demon.
But why wasn’t he going up yet? It’s just a short walk—was he stopping to enjoy the scenery?
Zhou Qingluo quickly corrected himself with confidence:
“A perfect man, fully developed in virtue, intelligence, physical fitness, aesthetics, and labor.”
Lou Yang: “…Order is a bit off, but I get it.”
