Milk Tea

"So, this is the very important thing you were talking about?" Ye Shuang looked at the long line in front of the bubble tea shop and couldn't help but glance down at An Shiyu, who was standing ahead of him in the queue.

"Mhm. The limited-edition Ultimate Boba Curry Octopus Milk Tea—I just wanted to try it," An Shiyu said.

Ye Shuang: "..."

What kind of cursed name was that?

"Since it's limited to one per person, you can buy the other special—Fluid Stinky Sludge Real Fruit Tea—for me," An Shiyu continued, pulling out her phone to show Ye Shuang a bizarre promotional poster.

Ye Shuang fell silent again. Was this shop actually selling drinks or biological weapons?

He couldn’t even muster the energy to complain anymore, but he also regretted agreeing to accompany this fish to wait in line. From where he stood, every customer seemed to move at an agonizingly slow pace, as if on purpose.

"Are these people even real customers, or is the shop just hiring extras to fake the hype? Or maybe they’re just really slow at making drinks?" Ye Shuang had seen similar tactics online—some stores deliberately slowed down production to create the illusion of popularity.

"Hmm..." An Shiyu tilted her body sideways, trying to peek past the crowd. Since she was much shorter than Ye Shuang, she had to lean quite a bit—but the next second, she froze.

Because Ye Shuang had reached out and wrapped an arm around her waist, his large, warm hand pressing firmly against her.

"..."

"What are you doing?" An Shiyu turned her head, only to meet his concerned gaze.

Ye Shuang studied her face for a few seconds before letting out a relieved sigh. "Phew, I thought you fainted."

The way she had suddenly swayed just now had sent a chill down his spine. Thankfully, she wasn’t actually collapsing.

The memory of An Shiyu suddenly collapsing before getting on her motorcycle was still fresh in his mind.

"Mm." An Shiyu averted her eyes, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear before muttering, "You can let go now, you pervy old man."

Ye Shuang realized he was still holding her slender waist and quickly withdrew his hand. "Sorry, I didn’t mean to."

"..."

Uncharacteristically, the girl didn’t retort. She just turned back around.

Ye Shuang noticed her ears had turned red.

"Huh?" Thinking she might have a fever, he asked, "Are you feeling okay?"

"No."

"Alright."

"Don’t scare me like that next time," Ye Shuang warned.

"Tch. You’re more naggy than a teahouse madam, old man."

"..."

The line inched forward, and after about twenty minutes, it was finally their turn. Soon, the two of them were holding their respective drinks.

If you could even call them that...

"Yours is a lump of yellow goop, and mine is a lump of purple sludge. If you told me they were freshly dug out of a swamp, I’d believe you." Ye Shuang stared at the contents of their cups, his lips twitching. This shop deserved to go out of business.

Who even came up with drinks this nauseating? They should just shut down already.

"I think it’s kinda fun, though," An Shiyu said before slurping up a small octopus-shaped milk pudding.

So the "octopus" was just pudding?

"Chew chew chew... Meh, tastes average. The so-called 'curry' is just orange juice, chew chew chew..." An Shiyu mumbled between bites.

Then, she held out her cup. "Here, try it."

Ye Shuang shook his head repeatedly—there was no way he was drinking that.

"Then give me yours."

"You’re having two?"

"Probably fine." An Shiyu took the purple sludge-like drink and took a sip. A few seconds later, she frowned. "What 'stinky sludge'? This is just taro milk tea."

"Disappointing..."

Ye Shuang sighed. "You didn’t actually expect them to serve you literal mud, did you?"

Watching the girl now holding a cup in each hand, he reached out. "Give me one."

"Changed your mind?"

"Something like that."

Internally, though, Ye Shuang was thinking that someone with a heart condition shouldn’t be consuming so much sugar—high blood sugar would only strain her heart further. Downing two of these would be disastrous. And he’d already seen An Shiyu drinking another milk tea when he met her earlier.

Just how many cups did this girl go through in a day?

Absentmindedly, he took a sip from the cup in his hand and realized it was just juice masquerading as curry-flavored.

"..."

An Shiyu watched him drink, her eyes unreadable.

Ye Shuang’s mind wandered, his gaze drifting to the girl’s stomach. Among the girls he knew, Bai Yuyou and An Shiyu seemed to eat endlessly without gaining weight, while Keke did put on weight—just in different places.

Guess it was just youth and a high metabolism.

He remembered back in high school when he could polish off a huge plate of rice without feeling full. Now, one bowl was enough.

"Pervy old man, do you have some weird fetish for my stomach?" An Shiyu’s icy voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He chuckled but didn’t bother explaining. "Let’s go. We should head back to school."

"Mm."

Once in the car, Ye Shuang shifted gears and drove toward Yinshan Academy.

"I saw two 'Spicy Fish Head' cars in the parking lot. Are they both yours?" Ye Shuang asked.

Hearing the question, An Shiyu glanced up from her phone. "Oh, those? Yeah, kinda."

"Why buy two of the same model? Do you actually have a shadow clone jutsu or something?" Ye Shuang laughed. Buying two nearly identical cars—only differing in color—was a bit odd.

"I do have a shadow clone jutsu. It’s a secret technique passed down in the An Shi family," An Shiyu said seriously.

"One day, you’ll see it, old man."

"Yeah, yeah." Ye Shuang figured she was just messing with him again. This girl was like the wind—teasing you one moment, vanishing the next.

"Old man, you drive so slow."

"Quit nagging. Seventy in the city is plenty fast."

Spotting a traffic light ahead, Ye Shuang gradually slowed down. He then asked the same question he’d posed to the other two girls that morning.

"College entrance exams are coming up. What major are you planning to take?"

"Whatever. I can get into any program," An Shiyu replied without looking up, seemingly engrossed in a chat on her phone.

Then she added,

"Not like it matters anyway."

Ye Shuang: "..."