Chapter Forty-Six — Food Without Flavor

"How did you get here?" Xu Shixi stared in surprise at the person standing at the door.

His astonishment was not deep—just as Yi Shu had analyzed in her heart, among those who lived on this floor, aside from her, there was no one else he knew.

His puzzlement came from her sudden visit. Earlier, when they finished work, she had invited him to go shopping. She said she’d been so busy with the Happy City project lately that she hadn’t had time to buy any autumn clothes. Clothes are, after all, one of a woman’s most important weapons.

Xu Shixi had gently declined. The past, as time goes by, finds its most fitting conclusion. Now, all he wished for was to protect her wholeheartedly.

"So, that's why you refused to go out with me—you're hosting a candlelit dinner," Tang Dai announced as she walked in, uninvited. "I hope I'm not interrupting?"

Clearly, she had come to disrupt them on purpose, yet pretended to be polite.

Yi Shu’s gaze was cold and sharp as she glared at her. This woman, with bright, lively eyes, always seemed more beautiful than she had been the day before whenever Yi Shu looked at her. Yet every encounter seemed to happen at the worst possible moment.

Tang Dai moved gracefully toward her, clearly more familiar with the apartment's layout.

Xu Shixi stood rooted to the spot, his feet feeling as if they were weighted with lead, making movement difficult. With a silent sigh, he closed the door and forced himself to walk calmly toward the dining room.

"How do you want me to answer you?" Yi Shu retorted without mercy.

Tang Dai ignored her, blooming like a dazzling but elegant rose, her rich fragrance swirling like a serpent’s tongue, sweeping toward her enemy.

"Why not let me stay and eat with you?" She turned, light and airy, to Xu Shixi. "I haven’t had dinner yet. You won’t mind, will you?"

Xu Shixi minded very much. His left eye caught a glimpse of Yi Shu’s dispirited expression, and his thoughts tangled. After all, he and Tang Dai did know each other, and now they were business partners. No matter how resolute, he couldn’t bring himself to say anything harsh.

"Another day, I’ll treat you to dinner," Xu Shixi said, meaning tonight’s dinner was over. As for "another day," he offered no specifics—it was a verbal IOU.

"Seems I've come at the wrong time today," Tang Dai gave herself a way out. "I should have called ahead. But..." She glanced at Yi Shu. "I doubt there’ll ever be a suitable opportunity again."

Yi Shu sifted useful information from Tang Dai’s sarcastic words. Clearly, Tang Dai knew she lived here, and had come deliberately to cause trouble, perhaps to declare her past glory.

A week after arriving in Cloud City, Tang Dai learned Xu Shixi lived in the Fragrant Garden and went to great lengths to contact the landlord downstairs. She persuaded them to rent her the place. The original owner, living abroad for years, rarely returned, and figured an empty apartment only gathered dust—might as well rent it out for a handsome fee.

Tang Dai was generous, paying three years’ rent in one go. Thirty thousand wasn’t much to her—a drop in the bucket.

Yi Shu had repeatedly told herself not to brood over Xu Shixi and Tang Dai’s past, not to measure it. The past was like smoke—let it drift away.

Did they even have a past? It was all speculation. Xu Shixi had never spoken of it.

"Wait," Yi Shu stopped her. "If you don’t mind, stay and eat with us."

Xu Shixi wondered if there was something wrong with his hearing—was he hallucinating?

He looked at Yi Shu, confused.

Yi Shu smiled faintly, letting her expression answer for her. It was just a meal, an extra pair of chopsticks. Surely Tang Dai wouldn't come every day to interfere? Today, she would satisfy Tang Dai’s desire, ambition, or perhaps some more venomous scheme. Before Shixi, Yi Shu had to keep her mask firmly in place.

Tang Dai’s eyes flashed with surprise—she hadn’t expected Yi Shu, usually unwilling to yield, to agree so readily.

She quickly adjusted her mood. "Then I won’t be shy."

You never were!

Yi Shu stabbed at the rice in her bowl with her chopsticks.

Tang Dai’s lips curled upward in a sly arc.

"Hurry and eat," Yi Shu called to Xu Shixi.

"Yes, come on, or the dishes will get cold," Tang Dai chimed in. Then, lowering her head, muttered, "When someone you dislike is here, even hot food doesn’t taste good."

Xu Shixi mechanically walked to Yi Shu’s side, pulled out a chair, and sat.

"Try this," Yi Shu placed a piece of spare rib in his bowl.

Xu Shixi picked up his chopsticks and began an uneasy meal, the flavors lost to him. A chill crept up his back, the sweat he'd broken into earlier now cold, and he shivered involuntarily.

"Shixi, when did you start caring so much about takeout?" Tang Dai stared at him.

To Tang Dai, Xu Shixi was meticulous in work, but careless about food. In university, when preparing for certification exams, he’d study late into the night, subsisting on instant noodles, energy bars, bottled water. Smartphones were just becoming popular then, online delivery was still in its infancy, and lazy students lived on snacks. If a diligent roommate took charge of everyone’s meals, he was revered as their provider.

Qiao Siming occasionally brought back food from the cafeteria for him—occasionally. Mostly, he played games and chatted online. Certificates meant little to him, yet, curiously, he always managed to pass every subject, sometimes even scoring well.

Tang Dai, in the throes of young love, couldn’t stand a day apart—it felt like three autumns. Young romance is always naïve and impulsive, as well as reckless and wholehearted.

She packed several Chinese meals from off-campus restaurants and delivered them for three consecutive days, rain or shine.

There was an unspoken rule at their school: boys couldn’t enter the girls’ dorm, but girls could enter the boys’. Thanks to this "policy," Tang Dai came and went from Xu Shixi’s room as she pleased.

"Why are you eating this junk again?" Tang Dai dropped the takeout heavily onto the table.

"I don’t have time for a proper meal," Xu Shixi replied, focused on his work. "Actually, junk food has some trace nutrition."

"I don’t care whether it’s nutritious or not," Tang Dai pulled at him. "Eat first—I queued for half an hour to buy this."

Xu Shixi couldn’t refuse her, nor bear to disappoint her kindness. He put down his pencil—pressed so hard it left marks—pushed his chair back, and turned around.

"I’m not picky about food."

...

"Yi Shu made these herself," Xu Shixi said with calm pride, placing some green beans in Tang Dai’s bowl. "Don’t they rival the best restaurants?"

He could not hide his pride—his girlfriend was so capable, and as her boyfriend, he shared in her glory.

Yet he did not know that the woman across from him, her heart cracked open, was bleeding silently.

She had once been the one to decisively end their relationship, and now she could not let go. He had once been forced to agree to end it in despair, and now he had completely moved on, letting the past go.

Perhaps, for all men and women, there comes a stage in life with a love that cuts deep but is destined to end; by the time the seasons change, it should be swept away like fallen leaves.

They were merely passing through each other’s lives, existing for a time—long or short—before waving farewell.

Yi Shu smiled sweetly, restraining her surging joy. All her frustration was soothed and released by Shixi’s words.

"You misunderstood," Tang Dai sneered. "I meant, these," she pointed at the five dishes on the table, "are like street stall fare."

A bucket of icy water seemed to pour over Yi Shu’s head, and she endured Tang Dai’s mockery.

Xu Shixi was equally taken aback.

"Enough," Tang Dai stood, smoothing her skirt. "I’m full—you two enjoy the rest."

She truly could not eat another bite.

Was her decision back then a mistake?

Is there still a chance for redemption?

The slam of the closing door jolted Yi Shu from her dejection; she forced a smile.

Xu Shixi responded with an equally strained smile.

Neither seemed hungry anymore—when had they become full?

The dishes on the table remained as they were when served, but the steam and warmth, along with their enthusiasm, had vanished completely.