Chapter 27 [VIP]

Han Shu went back to his room to rest and took the opportunity to check the battle reports from the front lines in the family group chat.

Musical performances, exquisite fusion breakfasts, the magnificent sunset on the deck, and a photo of Mom and Dad. Dad smiled brightly, but Ms. Xu maintained her usual stern face.

She replied with a "Awesome" emoji.

After lying down for a while, the hunger pangs from the strenuous exercise washed over him like a tidal wave. Han Shu reluctantly got up and went to the kitchen to find something to eat.

The first floor was quiet.

Han Shu glanced at the wall clock; it was 1:05, well past Wen Zhiyu's usual lunchtime. She thought for a moment, then went back to the stairwell and tentatively called out, "Wen Zhiyu?"

The second floor was also quiet.

Han Shu raised his voice, "Wen Zhiyu, are you having lunch?!"

The doorframe clicked softly, followed by muffled footsteps on the carpet. Wen Zhiyu descended the stairs slowly, glancing lightly at Han Shu before quickening his pace as he passed her, heading straight for the kitchen.

Han Shu: ?

Is it another relapse?

She followed, looking puzzled. Wen Zhiyu was picking through the refrigerator when he heard the noise. He turned around, his toes pointing at her from behind.

Han Shu opened the guest's refrigerator, searching for the easiest and quickest ingredients while asking, "What's wrong?"

However, Wen Zhiyu spun around again, continuing to express his firm determination with the back of his head.

Okay, let's keep having these episodes.

She refused to believe that someone could turn their back to her while eating.

Ten minutes later, Han Shu had just sat down with her fried rice when Wen Zhiyu picked up his bowl, stood up, turned 180 degrees, and continued to face away from her. However, there was still a plate of boiled shrimp and shredded pork with garlic sauce on the table, so he had to reach behind him and blindly pick up the food.

Han Shu: ...

She was certain that he was targeting her.

But what exactly did this elementary school kid do to offend him?

"Wen Zhiyu?"

Wen Zhiyu didn't say anything, but took a big bite of shredded pork with garlic sauce.

Han Shu sighed sincerely, "Hey! What's wrong?"

Wen Zhiyu didn't speak, but he kept nagging—

It didn't come up.

Han Shu quickly used the handle of his chopsticks to pry open the tip of his chopsticks, picked up the shrimp he wanted to pick up, peeled it without hesitation, and stuffed it into his mouth.

Wen Zhiyu, shocked, forgot about the Cold War and turned his head, asking, "What are you doing?"

Han Shu looked innocent, but chewed with extreme force.

provocative.

A blatant provocation.

Wen Zhiyu frowned. "Those are my shrimp."

"Ugh!" Han Shu swallowed. "Don't be so stingy, I'll only have one."

Wen Zhiyu turned around completely, put down his chopsticks, and asked in a dark tone, "Would you eat shrimp from a stranger?"

"Huh?" Han Shu blinked. "Stranger? What's so strange about them—"

The words came to an abrupt halt.

Han Shu stared in disbelief, his hand slipped, and the chopsticks clattered onto the table.

Wen Zhiyu raised his chin, looking down at her with the air of a cat with its tail held high, swaggering around.

Han Shu's speech slowed down in disbelief, "Are you angry because I said we're strangers?"

"I'm not angry," Wen Zhiyu said.

"You ignore me if you're not angry? You stand there eating like a telephone pole if you're not angry?"

"This is the right attitude to have towards strangers."

"You still say you're not angry?" Han Shu also stood up, wanting to explain but unable to find the words. He waved his hands in the air several times, finally settling into a gesture where his palms faced each other as if he wanted to strangle him. "Is it because I called you a stranger?"

Wen Zhiyu snorted coldly, turned around and left.

Han Shu punched his retreating back twice before chasing after him, saying, "Hey, is it true or not? If you say it is, I'll explain."

Wen Zhiyu quickened his pace and went up the stairs. Han Shu couldn't catch up to the second floor, so he could only stand at the top of the stairs and shout, "Hey, why are you running? Explain yourself if you dare!"

The man paused above them and said coldly, "I don't like talking to strangers."

Immediately following was the sound of the door slamming shut.

Han Shu: ...

That fussy guy!!!

She went back to the restaurant in a huff and ate all the shrimp on her plate because she was so speechless.

Let him get inexplicably angry and refuse to listen to explanations, then eat his shrimp and make him furious!

Wen Zhiyu rushed back to his study, sat down on a small stool by the door, and slowly exhaled the stale air that had been accumulating in his chest for a while.

That was close.

I almost forgave her.

He pressed his stomach; a sharp hunger consumed half of his brain. The other half was filled with three words.

stranger.

Why? Why does Han Shu greet everyone in the world with a smile except him, but treat him with such rudeness and hostility? Wen Zhiyu, Wen Zhiyu, Wen Zhiyu, why is he not gentle at all when he calls his name?

She spoke softly and gently to her husband, which could be explained by their close relationship. But that morning at Jielang, Han Shu sweetly called the boss "Chunjing," her eyes crinkling into crescent moons when she smiled. Yet they had only met twice! Shouldn't the woman named Chunjing be a stranger?

Chun Jing, her husband, the nurse, Da Mi, Er Mi, Xiao Mi—all these terms sounded so gentle and affectionate in her mouth. Why is it only him who is Wen Zhiyu? Why is his name Wen Zhiyu?

!

Wen Zhiyu was angry for a long time, but finally, the half of her brain that was writing about hunger defeated her.

He stood up, straightened the collar and cuffs of his shirt-style loungewear, smoothed out the glare from his waist and abdomen, and looked himself up and down.

His clothes were impeccably neat, and his face was cold and aloof.

very good.

At this moment, it is as firm as a rock.

He absolutely cannot forgive her so easily!

When Wen Zhiyu returned to the restaurant, Han Shu was no longer there. Also gone was most of the plate of boiled shrimp on the table.

He stared at the empty plate for a long time, then sat down, covered his front with his shirt, picked up the bowl, and silently ate the remaining rice with the shredded pork with garlic sauce.

Although he really wanted to eat it, Han Shu decided to just eat it.

She doesn't exercise often, so she needs to replenish a lot of protein after surfing; eating some shrimp would be good.

Let's eat it then.

Wen Zhiyu put the dishes in the sink, squeezed on some dish soap, and planned to wash them all after dinner. On the drainer next to him, the bowl that Han Shu had just used still had water droplets clinging to it.

etc!

Wen Zhiyu stared at the bowl and suddenly felt that something was wrong.

Isn't it that you can't forgive her? Aren't they strangers? Why do you so easily accept the fact that she ate your food?

no!

He wanted to protect his rights and questioned her about why she ate the stranger's shrimp!

Thinking of this, Wen Zhiyu wiped his hands clean, strode towards the guest room, clenched his fist and slammed it hard against the door, but stopped five millimeters away.

He held that position for a while, then slowly lowered his hand and loosened his fist.

Let's forget about it.

She doesn't exercise often, and the intense physical exertion combined with eating must have left her feeling tired and sleepy, so a short nap would be good.

Forget it.

Wen Zhiyu returned to the bedroom, turning back every few steps, intending to take a rest while still feeling dizzy from the meal, but his damn eyelids just wouldn't close.

He stared at the sunlit ceiling, lost in thought.

How can I show her what a true stranger is?!

Han Shu fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow and didn't wake up until dusk.

She opened one eye, looked around blankly, and didn't immediately realize what day it was. It took a full five minutes for her memory to slowly return.

Surfing lessons, lunch, strangers, and the fussy guy.

Han Shu snorted and slowly got up. He drew back the curtains, intending to peek at whether there would be a stunning sunset, but his gaze was drawn to the figure in the yard.

Wen Zhiyu was squatting in the front yard wearing an apron, holding a bucket in one hand and a small shovel in the other.

He looked at his left hand, then at his right. With the shovel in his right hand, he scooped up a handful of seeds from the bucket in his left hand. With a flick of his wrist, the seeds flew out like raindrops.

"Hey!" Han Shu flung open the window. "That's not how you plant them!"

Wen Zhiyu glanced at her, then without hesitation swung the shovel down again, and with a wave of his hand—

"etc!"

Han Shu slammed the window shut and ran towards the front yard.

Wen Zhiyu is still scattering flowers like a celestial maiden.

She wasn't sure if it was just her imagination, but she always felt that he was doing it on purpose, deliberately trying to annoy her.

Han Shu didn't have time to think and snatched the shovel away. "The rotten roots haven't been cleaned up yet, and the soil hasn't been turned over. The survival rate will be very low if you plant it like this!"

Wen Zhiyu remained expressionless. "Whether I live or die is my property. What does it have to do with a stranger like you?"

Han Shu was furious. "How can you, a grown man, be so petty?"

"I'm petty?" Wen Zhiyu's cold mask shattered as he pointed at himself with his index finger. "I let you eat my shrimp, I let you live in my house, and you think I'm petty?"

"I—" Han Shu, realizing he was in the wrong, fell silent. He weakly poked the ground with his small shovel, saying, "I was just saying it offhand..."

Wen Zhiyu laughed in exasperation, forcefully ripping off his gloves. "Just something you said offhand? And then you casually ate my shrimp and moved into my house as you pleased?"

"Well, we weren't that familiar to begin with..." Han Shu pouted. "I only know that your name is Wen Zhiyu and that you're a writer. I know nothing about your family or social connections. How can you call us acquaintances?"

The two squatted side by side, speechless for a moment.

Wen Zhiyu found himself persuaded.

He had seen Mushroom Head's ID card and knew she was from Beicheng and had a general understanding of her family background. But conversely, Mushroom Head knew very little about him.

All relationships are two-way, and so is understanding.

He cleared his throat and stared at a mushroom-shaped cloud on the horizon. "I was born in the north of the city and later lived in the south for a while. I don't have many friends; my social relationships are limited to work. I also don't have a home; my parents died when I was very young."

Han Shu's breath hitched. She turned her head and saw only the man's handsome, indifferent profile. His tone was soft and emotionless, yet she felt waves of discomfort rising from her stomach to her chest.

After a moment, she said in a casual tone, "Oh, I see. I understand now!"

Wen Zhiyu pinched the fingertips of his glove, dusted it off, and awkwardly asked, "Uh, is he still a stranger?"

Han Shu thought for a moment, "A somewhat familiar stranger?"

Wen Zhiyu turned around abruptly, about to reprimand her, but met a pair of bright, almond-shaped eyes. His eight-hundred-word prepared speech vanished before it could even be uttered.

Han Shu swung his shovel with great gusto, saying, "Whatever you say goes. It's your house, your guesthouse, you decide."

It was originally a joke, but after Wen Zhiyu thought about it seriously, he cautiously asked, "Friend?"

Han Shu was taken aback.

Wen Zhiyu, quick to notice, immediately looked away. "I just said it casually; strangers are strangers—"

"Agreed." Han Shu put down the shovel and extended his right hand. "Okay!"

Wen Zhiyu stared blankly at the muddy hand, not moving for a long time.

"Stop dawdling." Han Shu directly grabbed the man's slender fingers, waving them up and down while smiling and saying, "Hello, a friend who's still a bit unfamiliar."