If it seems strange to impose this responsibility

Sizzle!

The raw wontons hit the hot oil with a crisp sound, oil splattering everywhere.

The owner worked quickly, stirring the bottom of the pot with his iron ladle as wontons rolled on the oil’s surface, their skins shifting from white to golden, then to a slightly crispy deep gold.

The whole process took no more than two or three minutes.

The owner scooped out each fried wonton with a strainer, drained the oil, and neatly placed them into a brown paper bag. The bottom of the bag had already been lined with oil-absorbing paper—meticulous.

A small dish of homemade sauce sat nearby, reddish-yellow, with a faint sweet vinegar aroma.

The owner brought it to their table, set down the paper bag and sauce dish, wiped his hands on his apron, and didn’t rush off.

“Kid, I’m not one to meddle,” he said.

Fang Jun hadn’t even realized who the owner was talking to.

“But if you really had the guts to say it to her face, you wouldn’t be like this now.”

Fang Jun froze mid-motion.

The expression on his face was a mess—first confusion, then embarrassment, finally settling into a sense of absurdity: a street-side wonton vendor was lecturing him.

Lin Mo laughed so hard he almost spat out the wonton he’d just stuffed into his mouth.

“Hahahaha! Boss, you’re not wrong.”

The owner grinned, showing a row of neat teeth. “Just saying—don’t take it to heart. I just didn’t like what I was hearing.”

Fang Jun’s face reddened a bit, but he talked back stubbornly: “This is just a temporary pain for me.”

“Temporary pain? Looks pretty painful to me.”

“I...” Fang Jun paused for a long time. “This is my growing pain.”

The owner waved a hand and turned back to his spot.

Lin Mo teased him: “You sure know how to polish your own image.”

Fang Jun bit into a fried wonton, yelping from the heat, and mumbled, “If I spoke up first, I’d just be making trouble for her. If she had to choose between me and her dreams, I’d rather she pick her dreams.”

He said it seriously.

Lin Mo glanced at him but didn’t reply.

How do you know she’d even pick you?

Fang Jun blew on the hot steam.

“Phew! Eat up now—what are you barking about?”

“Who’s barking? You’re the one who keeps talking.”

Fang Jun rolled his eyes and stuffed another wonton into his mouth.

Lin Mo ignored him, picked up a wonton, dipped it in sauce, and ate calmly.

But his spiritual sense had already caught two approaching figures on the roadside.

“Come on, with the training intensity you’re doing now, you won’t gain weight at all. Just keep me company for a few bites—I can’t finish this alone.”

“Alright, Sister Xin, but after we eat, we have to head back.”

The moment the second voice came through, Fang Jun’s hand holding the wonton froze mid-air.

The golden, crispy wonton trembled slightly on the tip of his chopsticks.

He didn’t turn around.

His back was straight as a rod, but his head kept dropping lower.

Lin Mo noticed Fang Jun’s other hand slipping onto his thigh, his fingers clenching and relaxing, over and over.

Cai Junhuang and the receptionist Sister Xin walked over from the roadside, chatting and laughing.

Sister Xin wore a loose hoodie, her hair casually tied back in a ponytail.

Cai Junhuang was also in ordinary clothes—a sports jacket zipped only halfway, revealing a T-shirt underneath.

When Cai Junhuang had taken about five or six steps, her gaze swept over to them.

She paused for a moment.

A very short pause—so short that Sister Xin didn’t even notice.

That figure hunched over a low table, eating with his head down.

The cowlick on the back of his head, his slightly curled shoulders, and that school uniform.

She knew it too well.

Her gaze shifted sideways to Lin Mo.

He was looking right at her, a slight smile tugging at his lips, and gave her a subtle nod.

He didn’t say a word.

Nothing at all.

She returned only a faint nod.

Cai Junhuang quickly looked away, her face showing no extra emotion.

Then she pulled Sister Xin to a table on the other side and sat down.

A gap of a little over three meters between them.

Sister Xin didn’t even glance at the menu, just rattled off. “One bowl of soup wontons, one bowl of fried wontons— we’ll share, it’s perfect.”

“Mm,” Cai Junhuang replied, casually handing Sister Xin a napkin.

She didn’t look toward Fang Jun.

Not even once.

Over on Fang Jun’s side, it had gone completely silent.

So quiet it was as if someone had hit the mute button.

He kept his head down, eating wontons one by one at a steady, almost mechanical pace.

But Lin Mo could see that he hadn’t dipped any of them in the sauce.

That dish of sauce sat right next to his hand, untouched from start to finish.

The guy who’d been whining about how hot it was earlier now couldn’t even taste the temperature anymore.

Lin Mo said nothing, didn’t even glance at him to provoke him.

He just silently pushed the sauce dish a little closer to Fang Jun.

Fang Jun kept his head down, and after a long pause, he finally dipped his chopsticks into it.

The night breeze swept through the roadside, carrying the scent of fried food and the rustling of tree branches in the distance.

Just then, the owner appeared out of nowhere and set a bottle of old Pearl River Beer on Fang Jun’s table.

“Have a couple of drinks. If you like her, tell her. But remember: you like her—it has nothing to do with her.”

Lin Mo couldn’t hold it in anymore. He didn’t hesitate to point toward Cai Junhuang’s table and said, “Boss, you’ve got customers.”

“It’s fine, they’re regulars.”

The owner walked over and asked casually, “Soup wontons or fried wontons today?”

“Both!” Sister Xin said, with her back to Lin Mo and Fang Jun, so she naturally didn’t recognize them.

But the owner’s earlier words caught Cai Junhuang’s attention.

Lin Mo glanced at Cai Junhuang’s side, then patted Fang Jun’s back.

“Hurry up and eat. After this, let’s go back and sleep.”

“Oh, this kid’s not going to be able to sleep. Look at how heartbroken he is—he must really like that girl, huh?”

Fang Jun didn’t dare say a word. He wished the owner would just shut up.

Lin Mo smiled and said, “Boss, please stop.”

With that, Lin Mo finished his last wonton, grabbed Fang Jun, and headed off in the other direction.

They left the unopened bottle of beer behind for the owner.

After Lin Mo and Fang Jun walked away in silence, Sister Xin immediately turned to gossip, peering at their retreating figures and then asking the owner.

“Boss, what were those two talking about? Heartbroken over love?”

“Ah, young love. That guy’s the sentimental type. He said something like, if that girl said she liked him, he’d be willing to wait forever.”

“Willing to wait? So the girl’s going abroad, huh? That’s straight out of a romance novel,” Sister Xin said, all nosy and curious.

Out of nowhere, Cai Junhuang suddenly spoke up.

“What if he gets tired of waiting and then claims she wasted his time? What if she doesn’t want to waste his time either?”

The owner let out a sudden laugh. “No one knows the outcome until they’ve tried. If that kid were the type to shift blame, she wouldn’t like him in the first place. If she likes him, there’s got to be something special about him.”

He added one last remark.

“The reason he’s hesitating is because he’s weighing whether to let her go. That kid talks tough, but I bet he’ll be crying at home later tonight.”

Hearing this, Cai Junhuang fell into thought.