Time always flew when you were immersed in work.
A month later, Leng Shuang received his salary.
Seeing the amount his boss sent, he was utterly bewildered.
Ten yuan for a bowl of luosifen? In Shanghai, that was practically charity—and rent here wasn’t cheap. Yet the boss had paid him 13,000 yuan.
Wow. Base salary was 6,000. The commission alone surpassed it.
Puzzled, Leng Shuang asked his boss. The boss shot back with a strange look:
“You don’t actually think ten yuan a bowl is cheap, do you?”
Not cheap?
For ten yuan, you couldn’t even guarantee a cup of milk tea in the East District!
Leng Shuang’s mind short-circuited.
After a brief silence, the boss—who’d also just arrived in Shanghai—sent him a message:
“This time, luosifen’s price rises to fifteen yuan a bowl. Still think it’s cheap? Then twenty. Hmm… Since we’re raising it anyway, and we’re the only luosifen shop here… how about forty?”
“…”
Before Leng Shuang could react, the tiny fly-ridden eatery was gone. The boss moved them to a larger storefront and hired three workers.
Two were Xiao Qian and Xiao Hua—they’d quit their old jobs to follow.
One assisted the boss directly in making luosifen.
The “Liu Luoxiang” brand exploded. The *only* luosifen shop in all of Shanghai!
Fueled by online buzz and word-of-mouth, customers flocked in. Even at the new location, breakfast and lunch meant packed seats—and patrons squatting outside to eat.
After all, if you wanted luosifen, you had no choice.
And the boss had zero interest in branches, franchises, or revealing the recipe.
So when busy? *Exceptionally* busy.
Reviews split sharply.
Fans called it delicious and great value.
Detractors said it tasted like swill—disgusting, nauseating.
Online, some jokingly dubbed “Liu Luoxiang” the “second-generation durian.”
---
Thus, with a good boss, Leng Shuang settled at “Liu Luoxiang.”
Half a year slipped by unnoticed.
The boss Leng Shuang admired guarded his secret fiercely, content with his own little patch of land.
Their five-person team never changed.
Lin Mo started university. On weekends, if not working part-time, she’d visit Leng Shuang to deepen their bond in person.
The coldly beautiful woman who’d flashed once through Leng Shuang’s life never reappeared.
Yet sometimes, lost in thought, he’d instinctively tilt his head up, gazing at the sky—just like that day in the private room: her pulling him close, looking down; him looking up…
“Leng Shuang, what’s so fascinating about the sky?”
“Hehe, missing Lin Mo?”
During a lull, Xiao Qian and Xiao Hua gathered around, grinning at his dazed face.
“N-nothing,” Leng Shuang stammered, scratching his head awkwardly.
“Hehehe, your face is red~ Lin Mo just visited days ago—you even spent the night out~”
Xiao Qian raised an eyebrow, smile dripping with meaning.
Every time Lin Mo came, they’d go out. Some intimacy-building moments weren’t dorm-friendly.
But this time… it wasn’t Lin Mo on his mind.
“Ahem! Xiao Qian, Xiao Hua—you should find girlfriends too. Some regulars seem interested.”
Leng Shuang cleared his throat, redirecting fast.
“Sigh… dating’s hard. You don’t know their true colors. How to trust lightly?”
“Yeah. With so many players out there, heartbreak hurts. Better let things flow naturally.”
They sighed. “We envy you, Leng Shuang. You and Lin Mo know each other inside and out. She’s not rich, but driven, sincere. The way she looks at you—so tender, like she loves you to the core. Will we ever find that?”
“Haha, you will! Sakura Country has plenty of good women. You’re just swayed by drama scripts. Try opening up. You’ll *feel* if she’s right.”
Hearing them praise Lin Mo, Leng Shuang beamed. “Try it! Find someone who likes you—and you like. Talk. Date. Give love a shot!”
He clenched a fist, cheering them on.
“…Okay. We’ll try.”
Xiao Qian and Xiao Hua nodded, cheeks flushing slightly.
No dating experience. Watching Leng Shuang and Lin Mo’s lovey-dovey moments, they longed for sweet romance—but feared deception. Hesitation lingered.
“Next month’s Yinghua No.1 High School alumni event in Shanghai—let’s go?” Leng Shuang suggested.
Each year, graduates who’d made it in Shanghai organized it. Purpose: reconnect, support job-seeking classmates, strengthen bonds.
It bred deep pride among alumni.
“Sure! See if our homeroom teacher’s gone bald yet, hahaha!” Xiao Qian giggled, covering her mouth.
Teachers attended too—checking on grads, offering help, comfort.
Yinghua No.1’s homeroom teachers were warm-hearted. To them, graduated students were like half their own children.
“Gotta invite Yu Mo. With her and the teacher? Nonstop laughs.”
“Hahaha!”
Remembering old jokes, all three burst into laughter.
“One luosifen.”
A cold voice sliced through the air. Leng Shuang’s smile froze.
He turned.
A familiar figure.
Black OL uniform hugging her frame. Cool, sharp presence. Shiny black stockings hinting at allure.
Park Seok-min!
“Y-yes! Right away,” Leng Shuang stammered, snapping to take her order.
He watched silently as she packed the bowl and walked to an enchanting blue luxury car.
His pupils tightened.
Through the tinted rear window—a coldly beautiful silhouette.
*Thump. Thump. Thump.*
His heart hammered wildly.
As if she sat there, chin propped, observing him through the glass.
Lips curved in a playful smirk…
Someone he’d met only once—yet felt she’d always been near.
