Chapter 10: Barely a date

At nine sharp, Meng Zhi saw Feng Xiyao downstairs, waving with a radiant smile.

She’d clearly dressed up, wearing tiny shorts that showed off her long, pale legs. A tight black tank top and a cap amplified the vibrant, youthful energy of a seventeen-year-old.

Even though he’d seen her many times—touched her many times—his eyes couldn’t help but linger on her perfectly proportioned legs.

“Let’s go.”

Feng Xiyao, pleased with his gaze, grinned. “Decided on a phone yet?”

“Nah… haven’t thought about it. Let’s browse.”

“Sweet! The longer we shop, the better!”

She sidled up naturally, looping her arm through his.

Meng Zhi stiffened, exasperated. “What’re you doing?”

“What’s the big deal? I’m practically your sister. Isn’t it normal for a sister to cling to her brother?”

She blinked playfully, leaning close to whisper, “Right, Brother~ Meng~ Zhi~?”

Nutcase.

Meng Zhi sighed, about to shake her off, when a thought struck him. He muttered, “…Don’t hold so tight. It’s hard to walk.”

“Got it.” Still, she tightened her grip, resting her head lightly on his arm.

As they strolled affectionately toward the mall, a pair of vacant eyes watched from the garden.

Chen Xinya hadn’t gone to school.

She stared at the girl beside Meng Zhi, her eyes flickering with complex emotions.

Confusion, anger, envy, reluctance…

But in the end, they settled into a deep, shadowed veil.

It was a weekday morning, so the mall was quiet.

With Feng Xiyao clinging to him, Meng Zhi drew eyes like a smug winner at life.

“Oh! Hey, Bawang Tea X has a new drink. Wanna try it?”

“Not thirsty.”

“You’ll be thirsty after walking.”

She dragged him into buying two milk teas.

Beaming, Feng Xiyao handed him one. “Their signature Boya Juexian. Try it.”

Meng Zhi took a sip, saying nothing.

Seeing his silence, she grabbed his cup, sipped it, and mused, “Too much sugar? Too sweet?”

“Wanna try mine?”

Meng Zhi eyed the straws, both marked with her lipstick, and gave a wry smile. “You did that on purpose?”

“Caught me?” She winked mischievously.

“…I’m getting a new straw.”

“What! You’re that grossed out by me?”

“I just hate the taste of lipstick.”

“Oh…” Feng Xiyao’s head drooped, her voice small. “I won’t wear it next time.”

“It’s not about the lipstick.” Meng Zhi tried to explain but realized it was pointless.

She was deliberately creating these intimate moments to close the distance.

Resigned, he tossed the straw and drank straight from the cup.

Seeing he wasn’t mad, Feng Xiyao’s face lit up again, and she linked arms with him once more.

Finally at the phone store, the clerk pitched several models, but Meng Zhi browsed halfheartedly.

Phones evolved fast. Seven years was enough for multiple generations. These models felt outdated to him.

Picking the best of the bunch, he chose the latest iPhone.

No real reason—he’d used an iPhone before, didn’t want to switch, and it made data transfer easy.

While the clerk transferred data from his old phone, Meng Zhi toyed with the new one and asked casually, “When’s your birthday?”

He knew Feng Xiyao’s birthday, of course. But he had to play the part.

“July thirteenth. Why ask?” Her eyes sparkled with curiosity and joy.

Meng Zhi said nothing, silently setting the lock screen password.

“Whoa… using my birthday as your password?”

She watched his actions, then stared at his face earnestly. “Brother Meng Zhi, you’re not already falling for me, are you?”

“Your mom would kill me.”

Meng Zhi brushed it off lazily. Once the data transfer was done, he pocketed the phone.

“Let’s go. Anywhere else you want to shop?”

“Oh, tons!” Feng Xiyao perked up, ready to list her plans, but Meng Zhi cut in, “Then go by yourself. I’m hungry. Heading back to eat.”

“What?! We’re already here!”

She grabbed his sleeve, blinking pitifully. “Let’s eat out first.”

“…You already mooched a milk tea. Now you want a meal too?”

“Fine, my treat.” She pouted lightly.

That’s what he was waiting for.

“Let’s go. Hotpot at Cuckoo’s.” He didn’t care much for hotpot; he just wanted to mess with her.

It was a pricey place.

Seeing the glint of mischief in his eyes, Feng Xiyao stuck out her tongue but followed obediently.

Money wasn’t an issue. Her family had plenty, or his dad wouldn’t have hooked up with her mom.

At the hotpot restaurant, the spicy broth bubbled, steam making them sweat despite the AC.

Feng Xiyao’s black tank clung to her, accentuating her figure.

Over the meal, Meng Zhi chatted idly with her.

“You’re a year younger than me?”

“Yup. Sophomore at No. 7 High, next door.”

“Then why aren’t you at school?”

“I’m an art student. They’re more lenient. I just take leave if I don’t feel like going.” She shrugged.

Meng Zhi knew her mom had connections at school, so teachers didn’t bother her.

“Hey, Brother Meng Zhi, I told you my birthday, but you didn’t tell me yours.”

“October twelfth,” he said offhand.

Feng Xiyao froze.

She distinctly remembered his birthday was September twenty-six. No way she’d forget that.

“R-Really?”

“You’re not lying, are you?” She eyed him suspiciously.

“Why would I? What’s there to lie about?” He glanced at her subtly. “Or… do you already know my real birthday?”

Feng Xiyao fell silent.

Meng Zhi set down his chopsticks. “I’ll tell you my birthday. But first, you tell me.”

“How do you know Chen Xinya?”

At that moment, as his gaze burned into her, Feng Xiyao’s heart skipped a beat.