As the girl called out my name, I froze. I stared at her for a long moment, certain I didn’t know her, and asked, “Who are you?”

The waitress hesitated, shrinking behind the girl and glancing at me nervously.

The delicate-looking girl stayed silent, her silver eyes locked unwaveringly on my face—

I blinked at her, utterly lost. *Who even is she?*

After a pause, she looked away. “We knew each other before.”

Grandpa kept munching fries, saying nothing.

I racked my brain until my head ached. Still nothing. I shook my head. “Sorry. No memory of you.”

She met my gaze, earnest.

“I’m the daughter of your third great-uncle’s grandmother’s elder sister.”

Are you kidding me?

I held her eyes. Her gaze flickered away, darted back, then shifted again.

Silence.

The air turned thick with awkwardness—Grandpa happily dipped another fry in ketchup, oblivious. The waitress stood with hands clasped, glancing between us, flustered.

After a beat, she peeked at us both, clearly uneasy, and broke the quiet.

She stole a nervous glance at me, head lowered.

“Um… I’m really sorry. I still can’t take the fifty. And I don’t have WeChat, so…”

“Just give him your WeChat,” the girl cut in.

I went quiet, glancing at the waitress—

Sure enough, her head was nearly buried in her chest.

Another heavy silence.

I sighed inwardly. *She’s terrible at reading the room.*

These days, if a girl says she has no WeChat? Either she truly doesn’t… or she’s not trusting the guy one bit.

The waitress’s cheeks flushed crimson to her ears. She whispered,

“…O-okay. M-my WeChat is… buxiangxialoumai…”

I sighed, pulled out my phone. “Alright. Wait—let me note it.”

She nodded obediently. As I unlocked my screen, the girl stepped forward.

“Wait. Do you want *my* WeChat?”

I looked her dead in the eye. “First—*who are you*?”

She glanced aside. “I’m the daughter of your third great-uncle’s—”

I waved her off. “Nah. Not needed. Waitress, continue. I’m listening.”

The waitress blinked, confused, but murmured, “Ah… buxiangxialoumaiy…”

The girl stepped closer, earnest. “Why don’t you want my WeChat?”

Seriously, is she for real?

“I *why* would I?”

“Because we know each other.”

*Yeah, right. Never seen you.*

I studied her face carefully—every detail—until a faint blush tinged her cheeks and her eyes darted away. I could swear on my life: total stranger.

I sighed. “Sorry. Maybe we met. But I don’t remember… and no, I don’t want your WeChat.”

Never seen a girl push this hard. Pyramid scheme vibes.

She stared at me, silent.

“Xiao Ling… um, do you actually know him?” the waitress whispered, still half-hidden behind her.

Xiao Ling ignored her, frowning. “Why not? Just add me. What’s the harm?”

I was baffled. *Did she pick me today or what?*

…Well, she’s practically begging. Might be rude to refuse. Fine. Reluctantly.

I paused. “You want me to ask for your WeChat? Okay. But nothing’s free. There’s no such thing as a free lunch. I’m doing you a favor—what’s in it for me?”

Even I—usually shameless, quick with a comeback—felt my cheeks warm. *Phew. Good thing it’s chilly. Totally the cold.*

Grandpa paused mid-bite, shot me a knowing look, sighed, and popped another fry into his mouth.

The waitress blinked, tilted her head thoughtfully—*Don’t overthink it. Something’s off…*

Xiao Ling, unfazed, nodded briskly, held out the fifty-yuan bill, and said firmly:

“You gave this to her. She refused. So it’s mine. I trade it for your WeChat—and you still get *her* ID. You’re winning. Right?”

I took the bill. “Deal.”

Smooth as silk. The waitress stood frozen, jaw slack. After swapping IDs with Xiao Ling, I turned to her. “Yours? Weren’t you giving it earlier? What was it?”

She jolted. “Eh? Oh! buxiangxialoumaiyan…”

I typed it in, sent the request. “Accept. Quick—I’m in a hurry.”

She nodded dazedly. A *ping*. She fumbled to confirm.

I stood, wheeled Grandpa’s chair. “Got things to do. We’ve been out too long… Need to rush back to the hospital. Catch up later. WeChat me.”

Xiao Ling nodded seriously and waved. The waitress stood behind her, head tilted, utterly puzzled—but as we left, she swallowed her confusion and gave a polite wave.

Outside, traffic was light. I hailed a cab, helped Grandpa in, folded the wheelchair into the trunk.

Glancing back: the two girls still by the KFC window. Xiao Ling, calm, head down, phone in hand. The waitress, chin in palm, brow furrowed in thought—then our eyes met. She offered a tentative smile and a small wave.

*Ah. Adorably clueless. My favorite.*

I waved back, got in. Grandpa sighed repeatedly.

“To General Hospital, please,” I told the driver. “Pull close—his legs aren’t great.”

“Got it,” he said.

I turned to Grandpa. “Bad meal? Did Xiao Lu mess up? Why the sighs?”

He gazed out the window.

“Just old. Washed ashore by the new wave.”