Chapter 11: The Not-So-Gorgeous "Almond Tofu" (Atobe Appears)

"Today, it's sunny.

In preparation for the final match between the Metropolitan Conference and Yamabuki Junior High School, Senior Inui has developed a new punishment tea. Based on Arai and Chiba's feedback, it might, no, definitely be a hundred times spicier than Lingjie's spicy and sour seafood set meal."

"Kikumaru-senpai did 10 more endurance runs than planned. By the end of the last set, his hair was half an inch lower than usual, but he still gave me a V sign. He might have forgotten, but I wrote it down in my notebook."

......

“Today, it’s cloudy and turning to rain.

Today I actually saw Echizen and Fuji-senpai's practice match. Fuji-senpai's special move was to spread his arms wide, like a swift soaring through the sky, but in the end he was severely beaten by Ryuzaki. It was the first time I saw Fuji-senpai so embarrassed, it was really interesting.

"Kawamura-senpai practiced 10 more Hajime balls and gave me a Kawamura Sushi coupon in exchange for not writing it in the record book."

......

"Today, it rains.

Tokyo's rainy season is coming. President Tezuka said the bone soup he brought today was delicious. Maybe next time I can ask Sister Ling to teach me how to make it. After all, taking care of every member is the recorder's unshirkable responsibility."

"President Tezuka spent an hour stretching his left arm in the indoor training area."

......

When I came out of the training ground, the clouds above the field appeared bluish-gray, like a stretched string. A little further away, they were immersed in a deep blue, and finally burned into a fiery red by the setting sun, which was brighter than the award certificate of the conference.

The entire stadium was silent, the chirping of cicadas sweeping from all directions. Tezuka looked to his left—Kazama's long hair, dyed golden brown by the setting sun, brushed gently against the collar of her school uniform in the evening breeze. She tilted her head back, her fingertips unconsciously tracing the edge of the award certificate on the glass display, pausing for half a second when they touched a spot.

Kazama was the first to notice him, "President Tezuka."

Tezuka walked over and nodded, "Why haven't you gone back yet?"

Kazama looked away, continuing to look at the glass display stand in front of him covered with certificates, and suddenly said, "President Tezuka, we won the championship of the metropolitan tournament."

The voice trembled with a hint of joy.

He followed her gaze, landing on the large orange-red award certificate at the top. The setting sun illuminated the stripes clearly. "Next up is the Kanto Tournament."

"And there's the national tournament..." Kazama said softly, "Senior Oishi said that everyone's goal is to win the national tournament, or rather, the national championship."

"Um."

It was just a casual word, but she knew that the young man in front of her was the backbone of this powerful team that could advance into the national stage.

"By the way," Feng Jian pulled out a soft notebook from his pocket, opened it to a page, and handed it to him along with the pen, "Every time we win a game in the future, I want everyone to sign it."

As he took it, his fingertips brushed against the tips of her fingers, feeling a slight chill. His eyes fell on the red, smiling face, his eyelashes casting a small shadow on his eyelids. The tip of the pen hovered half an inch above the paper, pausing for half a second before writing. As he handed it back, the edge of the notebook brushed against the back of her hand, carrying the warmth of his palm.

Tezuka's voice was lower than before, as if filtered by the evening breeze, "How is your mother's illness?"

"The reexamination results are normal." Kazama's tone was relieved, his face bright, and when his eyes fell on Tezuka's elbow, he paused, "So, Tezuka-senpai's hand injury... you've been practicing a lot recently..."

"In the Kanto Tournament, Seigaku will encounter more and stronger teams." He interrupted, his tone as crisp and clear as a tennis ball hitting the ground.

He didn't answer "it doesn't matter" or say anything, but it was an unspoken agreement between him and everyone else, and it was his responsibility as the captain of the Seigaku tennis team.

Fengjian didn't say anything.

"Your data record also played an important role in our victory in the Metropolitan Conference." He looked at her, and his taut lips relaxed slightly. "Thank you."

The tip of my heart felt like it was burned and was numb.

As she clenched the strap of her schoolbag, the lemon candy wrapper rustled in her palm. When she met his calm and bright dark brown eyes, she suddenly remembered that ten years ago, she was hiding behind the counter, holding a candy in the same way, listening to people outside the door say, "This child is no good."

The self that is never recognized and is always buried behind the counter.

She heard her own forceful response, shaking her chest and the long, silent summer night.

Sitting on the train back to Yokohama, with the setting sun shining in through the window, she saw a smaller red smiley face in the lower left corner of the notebook, next to a larger smiley face, with the words "Focus on the ground" written on it.

The red mark is like the sunset in the sky, engraved in my heart.

——

After the Tokyo Metropolitan Convention, the Golden Week in May arrived, and the flow of customers on Yokohama Street experienced a brief peak.

"April, are you really not going out to play today? My cousin said he can take us to Hyotei's private club."

"I have to help Sister Ling settle a score today," Feng Jian bit the tip of his pen and laid down on the table, "Sorry, sorry, we can only make an appointment next time if there is a chance."

"Okay," I could imagine the other person's pitiful expression just by listening to the voice, "Then don't refuse me next time. And I heard that the cinema near the school has a new movie, so you are not allowed to run away~"

Yuan was probably at home, and could still hear the child's coquettish voice through the phone line, "Sister, come and play with me."

"Don't grab my phone, little brat," after a moment of chaos, Gen's voice came back, "Ayaka is too difficult to deal with, so let's leave it at that for now, April, don't forget it."

"Hi Hi~~"

After a long phone call, Fengjian Siyue noticed that there was a new figure in the store.

The young man with short gray-purple hair sat in a private room by the window, tapping the table with his fingers in an even rhythm, as if he was timing himself.

Kazama put down her account book and walked over. As she handed him the menu, she caught a glimpse of the embroidery on his sleeve—a modified version of the Hyotei school crest. Her heart skipped a beat. She had just heard Chiba mention the Hyotei Student Council last week. She'd heard that Hyotei Academy was recruiting stores for the cultural festival.

She had heard Gen Chiba mention this academy before. It was said that it had become one of the top aristocratic schools in Tokyo after the Atobe Group took over as the board of directors.

"Signature Almond Tofu." He didn't look at the menu, his eyes scanning the price list on the wall. "The price is 150 yen more expensive than the magazine recommended."

The hostess pointed to the small print in the corner of the price list: "The magazine shot the basic style. We are now using premium almonds and Hokkaido fresh cream. The cost has increased by 20%. Would you like to see the purchase order?"

As he said this, he was about to look through the account book at the counter.

He raised an eyebrow. This was the first time someone had used a "purchase order" to respond to his price question. "That's not necessary. Also, I see you miscalculated just now—last Thursday's almond consumption was 2.6kg, not 3kg."

The heroine was stunned. She looked down at her account book and saw that she had made a mistake in the line for Thursday. Her cheeks flushed. “…Thanks for correcting me. I’ll fix it right away.”

He took a sip of tea and his eyes fell on the calculation formula in her account book. "Using the weighted average method to calculate consumption will be more accurate. Your current algorithm has an error rate of 3.7%. Too high an error rate will lead to increased costs."

The tone was like commenting on an unqualified report.

Feng Jian took out a calculator unconvinced: "We are a small shop, it is more convenient to calculate by actual weight..." Before he finished speaking, he had already written the formula on a note and pushed it over: "Try it."

“Almond tofu is here!”

Lingjie's voice interrupted. Fengjian put away the account book and stepped aside. The boy in front of him gently scratched the surface with a silver fork. "The thickness of the frosting is uneven. The left side is 0.3cm thicker than the right, which affects the taste balance."

She couldn't help but retort: ​​"Are you here for dessert or for quality inspection?"

He put down his fork and finally looked her in the eye. The teardrop mole under his right eye gleamed brightly. “In any field, not striving for perfection is dereliction of duty—including running a small shop.”

Fengjian choked.

"You are the recorder," he suddenly said, "Qingxue"

"What can I do for you?" Feng Jian asked unhappily.

He glanced at the record in her hand: "ACE ball is written as 'Ace ball'. Qingxue's recorder is indeed an amateur."

Feng Jian was stunned, and looked down following the other person's half-smile. His face suddenly flushed. He actually wrote down the tennis knowledge in the account book when he was settling accounts just now, and it was actually written wrong.

If Sister Ling found out, she would definitely say she wasn't serious enough.

When she finished changing and went downstairs, Sister Ling was cleaning the table, and the boy sitting by the window had long disappeared.

"The young man just now left after sitting for a short time."

Ling Jie laughed and said, "That guy looked picky, but he actually ate all the tofu and even paid an extra 150 yen, saying it was a 'knowledge consultation fee.'"

"Here, he left this on the table. It should be for you."

Fengjian passed it to him. It was a note with a formula written on it and the emblem of the Hyotei Student Council printed on the back.

That night, Fengjian calculated the almond consumption for the day according to his formula and found that the error rate had indeed dropped below 1%, so he quietly put the note into the account book.