You Call This a Green Tea? - Chapter 9

For the next few days, Zhuo Luyuan stopped asking He Zhen out. Instead, he spent all his time glued to Sheng Junwen, strategizing about what to do with him.

While Sheng Junwen didn’t believe He Zhen was the type to take advantage of someone, he understood why Zhuo Luyuan was so paranoid. Luyuan had dealt with plenty of terrible experiences in the past.

Because of his looks, he had no shortage of suitors—men and women alike. Once, a CEO with no sense of boundaries had even slipped him a business card during a business dinner with his father, attempting to lure him to a hotel room. Mr. Zhuo had found out before Luyuan could even throw a punch; he’d beaten the man himself and told him to get out of Huai City. Since then, Mr. Zhuo hadn’t been keen on taking his “precious cabbage” out to socialize, fearing someone would try to pluck it.

Sheng Junwen felt Luyuan was being overly anxious. “I think he’s different from the others. Why don’t we observe a bit longer?”

“He put his hand right on my ass! What’s left to observe!” Luyuan snapped, then caught himself. He took a sip of water to cool down. “He invited me out to dinner yesterday. Should I go?”

Sheng Junwen thought for a moment. “Go. Hiding forever isn’t a solution. And regardless, he did get you home that night. You know what you’re like when you’re drunk. Every time I take you home, I’m terrified; the security guards at your place are about to put me on a ‘dangerous persons’ list.”

Zhuo Luyuan’s expression turned unnatural, and he shifted his gaze awkwardly. “…I didn’t do that on purpose. Fine, I’ll go. It’s just a meal; it’s not like he can eat me. I’ll trust him this once.”

He Zhen invited Zhuo Luyuan to Sishiju, a famous private kitchen in Huai City. This was another task issued by the system—and a major one at that:

【Host, this scene is a crucial plot point where the male lead meets the female lead. Completing it grants a massive amount of points. Good luck!】

He Zhen looked over the pre-released lines and rehearsed them mentally, hoping they wouldn’t sound too bizarre when the time came.

I just hope Zhuo Luyuan doesn’t think I’m a creep.

Sishiju had a lovely atmosphere. The private rooms were decorated with simple, elegant seasonal motifs. He Zhen, not knowing Luyuan’s preferences, ordered a few signature dishes and then asked for his input. Luyuan, clearly a regular, rattled off a few more dishes for the waiter.

“You seem very familiar with this place,” He Zhen noted, pouring Luyuan a cup of tea.

“Yeah, I’ve been a few times,” Luyuan replied. He secretly thought He Zhen had good taste in locations, though he wasn’t about to say it out loud and give the guy an ego boost.

It was a local habit to have soup before a meal, so He Zhen had ordered a winter melon and ham clay pot. Before long, a waitress brought it over.

Perhaps the pot was too heavy; as she reached the table, the waitress lost her footing. She stumbled right next to Zhuo Luyuan, and the boiling soup splashed out, heading straight for him.

He Zhen acted instantly. He stood up and yanked Luyuan away, but his own arm was caught by the scalding liquid, and a large stain spread across his clothes.

Zhuo Luyuan jumped up and pulled back He Zhen’s sleeve. He had seen the soup was still bubbling. What if he’s badly burned?

Even through a thin jacket, He Zhen’s arm was already an angry, bright red. “He Zhen, you’re burned. We need to go to the hospital.”

He Zhen shook his head to show he was fine, while the waitress apologized incessantly. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to, I can pay for the clothes!”

Zhuo Luyuan, his temper flaring, barked at her without looking up, “Don’t you see he’s hurt? Is this just about the clothes? Besides, with the price of this outfit, you couldn’t afford it if you worked here for a year! Shut up!”

Before He Zhen could speak, the familiar prompt rang out:

【He Zhenzhen gazes at Qi Qiongyin’s lovely face and gently pulls Zhuo Luyuan’s sleeve. Forcing a smile, she leans weakly on his shoulder like a “willow in the wind”: “Since she can’t afford it, let it go.” Qi Qiongyin feels insulted. She says to Zhuo Luyuan: “I know I’m not rich like you, but I won’t run from my responsibility. I’ll find a way to pay you back. Why do you look down on me!”】

The System whispered: “The original plot had Qi Qiongyin spilling it on the male lead, but since you blocked it, the script shifted. It’s fine, right?”

So this is the female lead. He Zhen looked at her, thinking the “Protagonist Halo” was indeed powerful—he’d picked a place at random and still ran into her.

He Zhen glanced at Qi Qiongyin, yanked Luyuan’s sleeve, and—like a very sturdy, muscular “willow in the wind”—leaned onto Luyuan’s shoulder. He forced himself to ignore Luyuan’s expression and said: “Since she can’t afford it, let it go.”

His gaze was calm, but Qi Qiongyin felt belittled. She declared passionately: “How dare you ignore me! Yes, I don’t have your money, but I said I would pay!”

True to her name, Qiongyin (which sounds like ‘poor’), she was a classic struggling heroine, working multiple part-time jobs. Even now, she showed no fatigue, only a spirited defiance.

Zhuo Luyuan, utterly speechless, simply called for the manager to handle the mess and took He Zhen straight to the hospital, without sparing Qi Qiongyin a single glance.

In the car, Luyuan kept a close watch on He Zhen. He noticed that despite the burn, He Zhen only looked a bit grim and didn’t complain. Suddenly, Luyuan whispered, “About today… thank you.”

Huh? The protagonist is thanking me?

The burn hurt, but He Zhen didn’t blame Luyuan; he was the one who had jumped in. He just shook his head and let Luyuan pull his arm closer to blow on the skin, trying to cool it down.

Seeing how serious Luyuan looked, He Zhen grew curious. “What did you think of that waitress?”

Luyuan, already annoyed, snapped, “What could I think? She’s an idiot. Someone gets hurt and instead of helping, she’s worrying about the clothes. I don’t know how they hired her. And you! What’s more important, the person or the clothes?”

“The person, obviously,” He Zhen replied. He could hear the concern behind the harsh tone. “What about you? Did any splash on you?”

“I’m fine,” Luyuan said, but as He Zhen looked closer, he noticed a red patch on the back of Luyuan’s hand. “You spoke too soon. You’ve got a burn there too.”

Luyuan’s skin was incredibly pale, making the red mark look particularly jarring. “It’s just one spot, no big deal,” Luyuan muttered.

“We’ll have the doctor give you some ointment too,” He Zhen insisted.

“Fine.”

They lapsed into silence. Zhuo Luyuan had a habit: when it got quiet with friends, he would start ruminating on every stupid thing he’d ever done. Naturally, his brain replayed his drunken singing and being carried home like a sack of potatoes.

He instinctively moved to cover his face in shame, but caught He Zhen’s puzzled look. “What’s wrong? Does your hand hurt?”

The usually hot-tempered Zhuo Luyuan actually lowered his voice, trying to sound casual. “I’m fine. Hey, can I discuss something with you?”

“Go ahead,” He Zhen said, curious.

Luyuan swallowed his embarrassment. “Last time, when I took you to meet Liang-zi and the others… you remember what happened after we left the bar?”

“Yeah.” He Zhen wasn’t the one who was drunk, after all.

“That’s what I want to talk about.” Luyuan looked away. “Forget everything that happened between leaving the bar and me getting into my house. Don’t tell anyone. Deal?”

He Zhen realized what was happening—the guy’s IQ had returned to the high ground, and he was trying to buy his silence. He Zhen’s eyes twinkled with amusement, which Luyuan caught immediately. His “polite” mask shattered. “Are you laughing at me?”

He Zhen reached over and raised an eyebrow. “What? You want to ‘silence’ me?”

Luyuan lifted his chin like a proud peacock. “So what if I do!”

He Zhen leaned back, watching him with interest. “Tell me then—how exactly do you plan to do it?”