White-Cut Chicken Dipped in Chocolate Sauce Provokes Fury Among Cantonese

The setting sun cast molten gold across the sky.

Shen Nian rode his electric scooter, the autumn wind rushing against him.

After picking up takeout for two on the way, he returned home, ignored Shen Yue sprawled on the couch playing with her phone, set down the food, and ducked into the bathroom.

Such was life in the south—when the weather turned hot, you had to take two cold showers a day.

Unless you were fine with feeling like a sticky, sweaty creature.

Shen Nian preferred freshness.

"Hey, jailbird, grab me two yogurts!"

"Sure."

Shen Nian handed the "holy water" to the "saintess" and grinned. "Guess what I did today?"

"Fishing?"

"Took the catch to the market. Wanna guess how much I made?"

"You actually sold them?" Shen Yue eyed him skeptically. She’d never known Shen Nian to fish, let alone turn a profit from it. Yeah, right.

As if she’d fall for that.

"Seriously, made five hundred."

"Lying to your own sister? Where’s your conscience?"

"Who’s lying? Making five hundred from fishing is child’s play. Can’t explain it to a non-fisher like you."

Shen Yue watched him retreat to his room without another word, seeing right through him.

After slaving through a top-tier university and landing a state-owned job, her high-school brother expected her to believe he could casually earn that much from fishing? Please.

If he’d had that kind of talent, he wouldn’t have been begging her for 50 bucks to top up his game subscriptions before.

Typical eighteen-year-old bravado. As long as he didn’t start believing his own lies, it was fine.

Shen Nian dropped the subject and lounged in bed with a book.

Mentioning the fish sale was just to plant the idea that he could make money—so when he eventually rolled up on a new scooter, it wouldn’t raise eyebrows.

Doubling the reported earnings would speed up the timeline for buying one.

Flawless plan.

The next morning, Monday, Shen Nian returned from his workout, showered, and was about to leave when he found Xia Yanchun already waiting in the hallway.

"Morning." He flashed a grin. "Want a sniff?"

"Of your head? Pass..." Xia Yanchun, still groggy, was all ruffled edges.

Short hair had its perks—no need to fuss over sleekness. A little messiness suited her better.

"Too bad you were asleep yesterday. Could’ve taken you fish-selling. Made five hundred, easy."

"Really five hundred? Hard to believe."

"Dead serious. I’ll swap it for cash at the store later and slap it across your face."

"Not coins, I hope?"

"Paper bills."

"Not like, ten-cent notes?"

"Wow, you got me. Yare yare."

"..."

At school, after two English classes, Shen Nian was summoned by Yan Yuzhu to the "retirement home" (her office) to collect the week’s study plan.

This batch was heavier—not just materials, but printed exercises to reinforce his learning.

"Starting to feel the pain," Shen Nian muttered, smile strained.

"Too much?"

"A bit."

"I’ll lighten it next week. Push through for now." Yan Yuzhu smiled gently, sliding a row of Wangzai milk cartons atop the stack for him to take.

See? Teacher’s orders.

He even snagged an extra carton. She didn’t mind—just handed it over.

Standard resupply.

Rewards for sitting near Shen Nian: one Wangzai.

Chen Dong’s table got some, Xia Yanchun’s table too. He was always generous with snacks—back in sophomore year, he’d bought a 13-yuan pack of Extra gum and finished it by lunch, shared with everyone.

Last week’s test scores were out. Shen Nian aced math like picking a pocket, and English? Eighty-four.

Absolute legend. Bring on midterms—that improvement award was his.

During lunch break, Shen Nian commandeered Li Shiyan’s seat by the fan.

"Your English score?"

"Hundred."

"Total?"

"Five eighty-seven."

"Damn, impressive." Not surprising.

Xia Yanchun had always been the "model child" parents compared others to—Shen Nian included.

Not that he’d ever been an easy benchmark.

"Just wait. I’ll crush you in the gaokao."

"Sexual harassment? I’m calling the cops." Xia Yanchun flushed. Why did he have to phrase it like that?

"Talking about grades. Your mind’s in the gutter, Xia Yanchun."

"You’re the pervert. Die!" With the classroom empty, her courage surged. She pinched his waist.

"Ow—!"

Ambush?!

Shen Nian caught her wrist, grip firm. First biting, now pinching—Xia Yanchun was unstoppable.

"Let go!"

"And let you off scot-free?"

"L-let go! Someone might see!"

Shen Nian glanced. Yeah, sure—invisible spies everywhere.

Seizing his distraction, she yanked free and cradled her wrist, glaring.

"Have some shame! We’re not that close!"

"Mad." Shen Nian Tom-pointed.

"You’re mad."

"Lol."

"..."

Deflated, Xia Yanchun felt her attack backfire. His mouth was too sharp—he’d start it, yet she’d end up losing. Maybe stuffing a sock in it would help.

The skirmish ended in Shen Nian’s total victory. Just another day with his lifelong rival. Pure serotonin.

"Nap time."

In rare form, he dozed off.

His body clock woke him half an hour before the bell. Xia Yanchun still slept soundly, face peaceful.

She’d probably forgotten their clash—after years of this, if she couldn’t handle Shen Nian’s antics, they’d have stopped speaking ages ago.

Or maybe he’d adapted to her.

Xia Yanchun had always been a little menace. Lucky for him, he could keep up, or he’d have been bullied into submission—another plaything for the wicked girl.

Even now, she schemed to make him call her "big sis." After years of childhood trickery, she still wasn’t satisfied. Talk about insatiable.

Bored, Shen Nian set up a book barricade and sneakily pulled out his phone.

Better safe than sorry—last time he’d forgotten to lock the door, Xia Yanchun had caught him and held it over him.

Scrolling through videos, he remembered Li Shiyan mentioning a username change. He pulled up her profile.

Her old handle, [37-Year-Old Gorgeous Lolita], had been wild—so unlike her quiet demeanor. The contrast was unreal.

Heh. Let’s see if the new one’s just as unhinged.

Huh. Updated.

[White-Cut Chicken Dipped in Chocolate Sauce—Wanted by Cantonese]

Skip the chase. Just blend him into mist.

Seriously, why do girls love these chaotic names?

Shen Nian's curiosity got the better of him, so he looked up Yan Yuzhu's QQ nickname.

【No More Milkies】

Now that hit the spot.

Yanxi reminds you: Due to Tomato's request for 3 million+ daily visits overwhelming the server, we now recommend switching to other big-shot sources.