Room 504's Rules and the Hole-in-the-Wall Restaurant

By the time they came out of the dorm building, it was already dark.

On the first day of school, the whole campus looked as though someone had crammed it full to bursting.

Freshmen dragged their luggage down the tree-lined paths, parents sat on the steps making phone calls, and a loudspeaker on the distant athletic field was still calling out in fits and starts. The four followed the crowd toward the back street. The farther they went, the more crowded it got, until the tide of people was practically pushing them along.

The back street was even more crowded.

The whole street was steaming.

Smoke from grilled skewers, oil from stir-fries, the cloyingly sweet aroma outside milk tea shops, and the smell of sweat rising from the crush of people all blended together. Customers queued outside every shop, plastic stools spilled out to the roadside, and proprietresses hollered out queue numbers, their voices rising over one another.

Han Dong had still been full of energy when he came downstairs, but by the time he reached the middle of the back street, he was already starting to wilt.

"I can't go on."

All six feet of him sagged against a utility pole, looking as though half his life had been sucked out of him.

"If somebody doesn't get me a hot meal soon, I'm going to collapse right here on the streets of Jiangcheng. When that happens, remember to cover me with a woven sack, you three. Don't let me die looking too pathetic."

Chen Ziang frowned, clearly beginning to regret coming to the back street.

He had already thought the place was too chaotic, and now it was both crowded and hot. Someone had nearly stepped on the edge of his shoe, too, and his expression was growing worse by the minute.

"Where's that restaurant you mentioned?"

Han Dong weakly raised a hand and pointed.

"Up ahead..."

But the moment the four reached the clay pot restaurant, the owner stopped them with a question.

"Did you get a number?"

"You didn't?" The owner looked up and shouted, "Then you'll have to wait. There are forty-two tables ahead of you. Two hours at least!"

Han Dong stood rooted to the spot, his eyes going blank.

"Forty-two tables?"

"Boss, you might as well just tell me where I can lie down comfortably."

He turned and looked around. The other halfway decent restaurants nearby were all packed too. A row of people sat outside the hot pot restaurant, the stir-fry place had squeezed tables into its aisles, and the line for malatang almost reached the end of the street.

Han Dong clutched his stomach, Northeastern dialect pouring out of his mouth.

"Did these people come back to school or flee a famine?"

"Now I don't think the food my mom stuffed into my bag was unnecessary anymore."

"Another ten minutes and I really could gnaw on tree bark."

Chen Ziang finally couldn't take it anymore.

"There's no point wasting time here."

He pulled out his phone and swiped the screen a couple of times, his voice carrying a matter-of-fact irritation.

"There's a mall two kilometers from here with a Western restaurant upstairs. I'm a member there, so we won't have to wait in line."

Han Dong was already so hungry he was practically a paper cutout. When he heard "won't have to wait in line," his eyes visibly lit up.

Chen Ziang continued, "The atmosphere is elegant too, and the seats are comfortable. It's our first meal since school started; there's no need to suffer in a crowded place like this. I'm a local, so it's on me. Consider it a welcome meal for everyone."

There was nothing wrong with the logic of what he said.

Spend money, save time, and take the problem off everyone's hands while he was at it.

To him, this was the most natural solution. A meal wouldn't cost that much anyway, and it would solve their immediate problem while setting the pace for the dorm's first meal together.

Han Dong swallowed.

He really was hungry, and he really was tempted.

But tempting as it was, he swallowed the words when they reached his lips.

"Uh... maybe we should forget it."

"I wouldn't feel right letting you treat us to something so expensive for our first meal. It'd be like we came out just to take advantage of you."

Chen Ziang glanced at him.

"It's just a meal."

Han Dong scratched his head.

"It's still money."

The conversation stalled.

Standing at the edge of the crowd, Lu Chuan looked at Chen Ziang, then at Han Dong, who was nearly fainting from hunger, and finally spoke.

"Don't treat us."

Chen Ziang frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean we shouldn't set the wrong rules with our first meal." Lu Chuan's tone was mild. "We'll be living in the same dorm for four years. Small amounts of money are the easiest way to blur boundaries. Anyone can treat the others later if they want, but for our first meal at the start of school, it's best to split the bill."

Han Dong blinked.

Chen Ziang didn't respond immediately either.

He clearly hadn't expected Lu Chuan to speak so directly at a time like this.

Lu Chuan continued, "You treat us today, he treats us tomorrow, and the day after that, whoever doesn't treat is liable to feel awkward. We've only just met; there's no need to start off owing favors like that. Everyone paying their own way is the simplest."

As soon as he finished, Zhao Yifan nodded too.

"I agree."

He stood by the roadside, his voice as level as ever.

"Splitting the bill is best. No burden, and nothing to keep track of."

Hearing that, Han Dong immediately nodded along.

"Right, right, right. I think that's the sensible way too."

"Even if I really am hungry enough to eat a whole cow, a meal is a meal. We can't let someone spend that much on us when we've only just met."

Chen Ziang gripped his phone, a surge of irritation rising in his chest.

He could understand Han Dong not wanting to take advantage.

He hadn't figured Lu Chuan out in the first place, so it was understandable if the man insisted on saving face.

But what about Zhao Yifan?

Chen Ziang already had a sense of what kind of background Zhao Yifan's family had. By rights, someone at his level should have been the last person to care about such a minor affair. Yet Zhao Yifan had actually sided with Lu Chuan, willing to waste time with them on this chaotic back street just because "splitting the bill is simplest."

As Chen Ziang saw it, all three of them were sick in the head.

But it was three against one now.

If he kept insisting on treating them, it would only make him look as though he was determined to use a meal to lord it over them.

Chen Ziang turned off his phone screen. His expression was sour, but he didn't push the matter any further.

"Fine."

"We'll split the bill."

Han Dong let out a long sigh of relief, then immediately slumped again.

"So what do we do now?"

"Splitting the bill is all well and good, but we still need food. My stomach's already cursing me out."

Lu Chuan glanced toward the far end of the back street and stopped them from wasting any more time on the main road.

"Follow me."

"We won't get a table here, but there's another place farther in."

Like a man grabbing a lifeline, Han Dong immediately straightened up.

"There really is?"

"There is."

Lu Chuan led them into an alley.

The back street's main road was crowded, but after they went two side alleys farther in, it grew a little quieter. The streetlights were dim and yellow, faded little advertisements clung to the walls, and the route was somewhat winding. Freshmen would hardly ever find their way here.

Chen Ziang walked at the back, looking at the narrow alley. He had been about to say something, but after they rounded the final bend, he stopped in his tracks.

At the end of the alley was a tiny Sichuan restaurant.

Its sign was a little old, with paint peeling from the corners. The storefront was small, but the glass door was wiped very clean. There weren't many tables inside, the walls were tiled in white, and an old-fashioned air conditioner was running full blast. Most importantly, there really was an empty table.

There was none of the noisy crush of the main street.

Nor was there the stuffiness of cooking fumes plastering themselves all over their faces.

The kitchen was half open, allowing them to see the stove and chopping boards inside, all neatly kept.

Han Dong nearly burst into tears on the spot.

"Brother Chuan, from now on you're my real brother."

"If I live to graduate, I'll remember this meal for all four years."

The moment the four entered, a blast of cold air from the air conditioner hit them, and the irritation of being jostled by crowds along the way melted away.

Even Chen Ziang's previously knitted brows visibly relaxed somewhat. He glanced over the tabletops and the floor without saying anything, but his attitude was already much better than it had been on the main street.

Lu Chuan remembered this place.

In his previous life, the first time everyone from 504 had gone out for a meal together, they had stumbled upon this place in the end too. The husband and wife who owned it cooked quickly, and the food tasted good. Although the restaurant was small, it was cleaner than many of the places outside with long lines.

He was just about to have everyone sit down when Han Dong completely lost patience.

Like a hungry wolf catching sight of a light, the burly Northeastern man raced to the counter in a few long strides, nearly leaning halfway over it. The owner was still wiping his hands when Han Dong slapped the counter, his eyes glowing green, and shouted.

"Boss!"

"Forget what dishes you've got. Bring me two plates of meat first! Hurry, I'm really starving to death!!"