I Baked Sweet Potatoes

The boy stood frozen in place.

He knew Xie Yuling disliked interacting with others, which was why she hardly had anyone around her.

But ever since the semester started, this guy named Lin Mo had been by Xie Yuling’s side.

Did that mean she was finally stepping out of her own shadows?

So he mustered up the courage to approach her.

Yet he never expected Xie Yuling to say something like that.

Dazed, he took a few deep breaths before softening his voice again. "That’s not it, I really just want to be friends with you, I—"

Before he could finish, Xie Yuling had already taken Lin Mo’s hand and walked past him without a second glance.

Left with his words unspoken, the boy could only watch silently as the two walked away.

......

The exams were scheduled for the 14th and 15th.

Monday and Tuesday.

This final exam was a province-wide standardized test, and Lin Mo was assigned to Class 8.

At Chu Miaomiao’s seat.

Well, fate worked in mysterious ways.

The real question was, why was Lu Xiaochen sitting right next to him again?

Last time, he was on the left. This time, he was on the right.

But Lu Xiaochen just turned his head away when he saw Lin Mo.

As for the boxing club situation, Lin Mo hadn’t paid much attention, and Fang Jun hadn’t mentioned anything either.

After the first Chinese exam ended, Lin Mo stretched lazily. Unlike the Olympiad math competition, you couldn’t leave early during finals.

Even after finishing, you had to sit there and wait for time to pass.

Lin Mo didn’t leave either, since everyone who went to other classrooms for exams would eventually return to their own class.

Sure enough, more and more students from Class 8 trickled in.

The moment Jiang Yunlu entered, her eyes landed on Lin Mo. The seating chart had been posted the day before, so she already knew Lin Mo was sitting at Chu Miaomiao’s desk.

And her own seat was occupied by someone else.

So she walked straight toward Lin Mo.

"How’d it go?"

Lin Mo shrugged. "You’re aiming for Tsinghua, he’s aiming for Peking U, and I’m aiming for roasted sweet potatoes."

"Then can you treat me to some?"

The classroom windows were all shut, but the weather was getting colder by the minute.

This was the season when honey sweet potatoes were at their sweetest.

So Lin Mo waved a hand grandly. "Sure thing!"

At noon, many students chose to eat out. While Lin Mo was still wondering what to have for lunch, Fang Jun had already come over.

"Come on, Lao Mo, let’s get some pork offal soup rice. I rarely eat out at noon, so you gotta keep me company."

Fang Jun usually ate at home, where his mom cooked for him.

But sometimes she’d go out to play mahjong instead.

Pork offal soup rice was a common dish in eastern Guangdong.

The offal included intestines, lungs, liver, and heart, but the soup usually also had regular pork slices.

The place Lin Mo and Fang Jun went to was popular, especially among Guangba High students.

"Boss, two pork offal soup rice."

Fang Jun paid, took the order tag, and immediately looked for a seat. If there weren’t any, they’d have to wait a while.

There were many ways to make pork offal soup, and this place specialized in freshness and tenderness.

Small stainless steel pots simmered on the stove.

After receiving an order, the boss would first ladle a scoop of hot pork bone broth into the pot.

These pots were small, lightweight, and heated up quickly—perfect for cooking offal.

Once the broth boiled, the boss would scoop in the raw offal and cook it right there.

Then he’d toss in a handful of chopped celery, and the soup was ready.

The result was tender, fresh offal, pre-marinated so it was flavorful even without dipping sauce.

But for rice, you still needed something to go with it.

Fang Jun grabbed two small plates, scooped in some satay sauce, added chili sauce and soy sauce, mixed it all together, and dipped the offal in it—perfect for rice.

"By the way, what are you doing over winter break?" Fang Jun asked casually between bites.

"Going back to my hometown for New Year’s."

"Your hometown? Is it far?"

"Not really, just over an hour’s drive."

"Pfft, I thought it was some long trip. Well, you’re not going home before the closing ceremony anyway, so you might as well game with me."

Fang Jun was still the same playful kid.

Lin Mo agreed without much thought.

The pork offal soup arrived quickly. Fang Jun took a couple of sips of broth before starting on the rice.

Lin Mo liked this style of preparation. Some places pre-boiled the offal, sliced it after cooling, and then poured hot broth over it.

But that made it less fresh, and the flavors of the soup and offal didn’t blend as well.

Lin Mo ate two bowls of rice, while Fang Jun had one before finishing the soup.

"Let’s go, grab some roasted sweet potatoes."

Fang Jun smirked. "Buying for someone else, huh?"

"Can’t you just watch and learn instead of running your mouth?"

"Tch, your skills are beyond me. But I could learn a thing or two from Gao Yuanqiang. Rumor has it he and Geng Xiao are together now."

Huh? That fast?

Lin Mo remembered in his past life, it took them much longer to get together.

But he just shrugged. "Gao Yuanqiang’s probably just playing with her."

Fang Jun chuckled. "Who doesn’t know that? Geng Xiao was the one who started messing with the back-row guys, almost got them fighting. So Gao Yuanqiang stepped in."

Pretty much the same as his memories. Gao Yuanqiang might be a player, but he was a solid friend.

"Speak of the devil."

Down the backstreet, Geng Xiao clung to Gao Yuanqiang’s arm as they walked past. Geng Xiao was a C-cup powerhouse, and Gao Yuanqiang clearly enjoyed the attention.

How long they’d last was anyone’s guess.

Near the school gate, Lin Mo finally found the legendary sweet potato vendor.

After scanning them with his divine sense, Lin Mo deliberately picked three.

All three were pure honey sweet potatoes—great texture, great flavor.

Once they were bagged separately, Lin Mo and Fang Jun leisurely headed back to school.

"Truly a master of balance," Fang Jun remarked admiringly.

"What do you know? This is called equal distribution. Unless they explicitly say no, you always prepare a share for each."

Watching Lin Mo speak so confidently, Fang Jun couldn’t help but sigh.

"Only at times like this do you seem human. In class, you always seem so indifferent, like nothing excites you."

"So you’re saying I’m not human in class?"

"Not that. It’s more like… you’ve seen through the vanity of life or something."

Seen through the vanity of life? More like ascended beyond mortal concerns.

But Lin Mo knew it was just that he’d experienced too much. Looking back, nothing felt like a big deal anymore.

There was also an adult’s detachment in him—unfazed by most people’s words.

Lin Mo waved it off. "Vanity of life? I’m a harem king, not some bald lumberjack."