After speaking, she scooped another big spoonful of ice cream into her mouth, one cheek bulging.
She ate too much at once, and both her teeth and head ached from the cold. Xie Qiaoqiao wrinkled her nose a little, then quickly calmed down again, feeling the sweet melted ice cream flow down her throat.
Zhang Xueji’s voice got smaller, sounding almost aggrieved: “It’s just that I want to know more about you…”
Xie Qiaoqiao glanced at him. His brows drooped, looking quite dejected. His last words were a bit drawn out, actually a little bit of wheedling, but Xie Qiaoqiao didn’t realize it.
‘Wheedling’ was a pretty foreign emotion to Xie Qiaoqiao.
She kept a stern face. “I advise you not to try to understand me.”
Then the car jolted over a speed bump, making Xie Qiaoqiao and her ice cream bounce. Fortunately, she reacted quickly and gripped it tight, so the ice cream didn’t fall.
Zhang Xueji kept at it, still using that slightly aggrieved tone: “But you said I could pursue you—”
Xie Qiaoqiao:
She scooped two more big spoonfuls of ice cream, staying silent while she ate.
Zhang Xueji snuck another glance at her, then quickly looked back at the road, and exaggeratedly let out a long sigh. “Do you actually dislike me?”
Xie Qiaoqiao:
“…Not really.”
So you don’t like the meals I take you to, or the breakfast I bring you, or even the ice cream in my fridge,
Zhang Xueji: “Right?”
Xie Qiaoqiao, who had just stuffed the last spoonful of ice cream into her mouth, fell silent.
Zhang Xueji pointed to the trash can with his finger, reminding her, “You can throw the empty container here.”
Xie Qiaoqiao: “Watch the road.”
She said this sternly, then tossed the empty ice cream tub into the bin he’d pointed to.
Zhang Xueji had been pretending, but hearing her deadpan words, he couldn’t help but laugh.
In truth, he wasn’t really a big laugher. Because of his dimples—Zhang Xueji didn’t like his dimples much, so he rarely laughed openly; even when something was funny, he’d only chuckle quietly.
But Xie Qiaoqiao just made him want to laugh.
Zhang Xueji laughed as he explained, “I am watching the road, I wasn’t staring at you the whole time.”
Xie Qiaoqiao: “You bought too much breakfast this morning, I gave some to my roommate.”
Zhang Xueji was surprised, “Was it too much? I was worried it wouldn’t be enough! I’ll bring less next time.”
Xie Qiaoqiao: “It was too much, and too many calories.”
Zhang Xueji earnestly noted, “I’ll keep it in mind next time… Where are you headed now? Home or school?”
Xie Qiaoqiao thought for a moment. “Home.”
They drove all the way back to the apartment complex, and since Zhang Xueji was also going home, they shared the elevator.
At the door, Xie Qiaoqiao rummaged in her bag for her keys, searching for a while.
Zhang Xueji had already entered his password, but hadn’t gone inside, instead leaning against the wall, “Still can’t find your keys?”
Xie Qiaoqiao: “Stop talking.”
Zhang Xueji edged closer, “These locks are such a hassle, you should just switch to a keypad lock. That way you won’t forget your keys…”
Before he finished, Xie Qiaoqiao rustled her keys out of her bag.
She gave him a look, unlocked, went inside, and shut the door.
The door slammed shut with a gust of wind that softly fanned Zhang Xueji’s face. He couldn’t help but laugh again.
Hua Lingyue only took the corpse, but didn’t help Xie Qiaoqiao with the cleanup.
The living room and kitchen floors were still smeared with all kinds of bloody mess. At least she did pack up and take away all the trash from those two rooms.
The blood had long since dried, especially in the kitchen, where the dried blood and the stench of corpse filled the air.
Xie Qiaoqiao rolled up her sleeves, trying to clean up the blood first.
She’d never dealt with this kind of mess before, but she remembered how Zhang Xueji did it yesterday—just use the mop this way and that, and the cloth like this and that, and it should be a piece of cake!
…Piece of cake, my ass!!!
Once the water hit the bloodstains, they just smeared everywhere. No matter how she scrubbed, she couldn’t get the pale porcelain tiles clean.
She’d never hated white tile so much—who came up with white tile anyway? Why not use black?
And the smell.
She’d had the windows open for hours, and still the kitchen stank of corpse. Xie Qiaoqiao wandered around with a bucket and rag, sniffing here and there, trying to find the source.
But every corner of the kitchen was tainted with corpse stench, sticking like a curse that wouldn’t come off no matter how hard she cleaned.
Xie Qiaoqiao was exhausted.
The last time she’d felt this tired was sitting in class, listening to Zhang Xueji and his classmates discuss formulas.
She zoned out for just a bit and already started to nod off, having to force herself to focus on her book.
Couldn’t understand what she heard, couldn’t understand what she read, couldn’t figure anything out—just like the blood and stench in the kitchen.
Xie Qiaoqiao gave up decisively, left her apartment, and knocked on her neighbor’s door.
She’d barely knocked three times when the door opened, and there was Zhang Xueji; he looked a little different, wearing black-framed glasses, appearing more scholarly and mature.
They locked eyes, Zhang Xueji’s face puzzled, “Qiaoqiao?”
Xie Qiaoqiao: “I can’t get the bloodstains clean in my place.”
Zhang Xueji rolled up his sleeves and went into Xie Qiaoqiao’s apartment—as soon as he entered the living room, the faint smell of rust and lingering corpse greeted him.
The living room wasn’t too bad, but the kitchen was a disaster. Zhang Xueji took a look around, went back to his own place, and returned wearing gloves, armed with disinfectant, vinegar, and salt.
The bloodstains Xie Qiaoqiao couldn’t remove no matter how she tried, disappeared after a few wipes with his mixture.
Even the sofa, speckled with blood, soon gave up under his hands.
With nothing to do, Xie Qiaoqiao stood aside, quietly watching Zhang Xueji clean.
The diligent little fried chicken dog bustled between kitchen and living room, soon sweating all over his forehead.
Xie Qiaoqiao moved closer to the AC. He immediately looked up. “Don’t turn on the air conditioning—the smell won’t go away if you do. Got a fan? Set it up facing the window.”
She ran to her bedroom, and came back hugging a standing fan.
With a ‘click’, the blades spun, stirring the air, billowing Zhang Xueji’s shirt. He grabbed the hem to wipe his face, then bent close to the fan.
His fringe was blown up, and even the sweat on his brow was whisked away.
Xie Qiaoqiao pressed a finger to Zhang Xueji’s forehead, pushing his face back. “Don’t let the fan blow on your face; it’s too strong, you’ll get facial paralysis.”
Zhang Xueji straightened at once, and Xie Qiaoqiao’s hand, not quick enough to pull back, brushed past his forehead, nose, lips.
It finally, narrowly, stopped at his shirt buttons.
She quickly withdrew her hand, rubbed her fingertips together, and looked up to see Zhang Xueji grinning, “All clean!”
“But the corpse stench is tough. Even after using baking soda and deodorizer, it’ll probably take two or three days to clear out—it’s best to replace all your kitchen utensils, just in case there’s some disease in the monster’s blood… Do you need a rabies shot?”
He grew more worried as he spoke, and his eyes grew anxious as he looked at her.
Xie Qiaoqiao touched her arm, feeling confident: “There’s no infection, and even if there were, it wouldn’t affect me.”
Zhang Xueji: “Are you, like, one of those people in zombie films who’ve had blood serum injected?”
Xie Qiaoqiao: “…What exactly are zombie films about?”
Zhang Xueji scratched his head, “They’re just about zombies. Do you like zombie movies?”
Xie Qiaoqiao neither nodded nor shook her head, hesitated for a few seconds, then said, “I haven’t watched one, but I can watch with you.”
Zhang Xueji ‘wa’-ed, immediately pulled out his phone to check listings. Unfortunately, there were no zombie movies playing. He put down his phone and looked at her eagerly, “Can we watch one at my place?”
Xie Qiaoqiao replied indifferently, starting to pack up pots and pans from the kitchen. Zhang Xueji saw her take out two pots and quickly pocketed his phone and went over to help her carry them.
They went out to throw away the pots and pans, and Zhang Xueji asked, “Your kitchen’s out of commission for a couple days. What about lunch and dinner?”
He didn’t mention breakfast; he’d already accepted that as his own responsibility.
Xie Qiaoqiao thought, “I’ll eat at the cafeteria, or at a convenience store.”
Zhang Xueji: “Or, you could eat at my place?”
She turned to look at him. He blinked, looking innocent, holding her discarded pots in both hands.
Xie Qiaoqiao: “Is this also part of your plan to pursue me?”
“This one doesn’t count,” Zhang Xueji laughed, dimples showing, “Even just as ordinary friends, if your pots break and you come over for a meal or two, I wouldn’t refuse.”
“The next bit is the pursuit part—do you want anything in particular for dinner? Will you come to the market with me? On the way, we can talk about your food preferences, what you think of me, whether you like me more today than yesterday, if you want to date me and such daily topics.”
Ding—
The elevator doors opened.