Master Mo, Model Worker; Sing Sing, Heartbroken and Stuck with the Bill (Bonus Chapter)

Having secured Riptide's official position, Sing Sing was in an excellent mood.

At half past four that afternoon, just as he strolled back into the 749 Bureau's underground base, a bizarre, earworm-like howl came from the small classroom.

"Hel-lo, ev-ery-one, I'm Mor-ti-mer!"

"Wrong!" Auntie Li, a retired teacher, slapped the desk in exasperation. "It's 'hello, everyone,' not 'herro, evwywun'! Pull that long tongue of yours back in before you speak! Retroflex sounds! Do you understand retroflex sounds?!"

"Retro... retro... hrrgh—"

Sing Sing pushed the door open and entered.

Toad was huddled primly at a school desk.

His yellow, vertical pupils were fixed on the blackboard, and his wide, protruding mouth was painfully shaping the sounds.

The Xinhua Dictionary on the desk was wrinkled from being soaked in slime, and a bulging woven-plastic sack sat by his feet.

"Ah Qi!"

At the sight of his savior, Toad's tongue nearly shot up to the ceiling in excitement.

"Master Mo, pack your things and come with me." Sing Sing lifted his chin.

Whoosh! Mortimer hoisted the sack onto his shoulder and sprang to his feet. He moved so fast it was as if another second there would see him delivered to the afterlife by pinyin.

"Where to?"

"Back to your workplace. Your coworkers miss you."

With that, Sing Sing sent Toad on ahead.

Then he pulled a red envelope from his pocket and pressed it into Auntie Li's hand. "Thank you for your hard work, Auntie Li. The bureau will give you some compensation for emotional distress later."

Auntie Li took the red envelope and felt how thick it was, her expression improving a little. "That Master Mo of yours is a good person. It's just that his mouth is a little too... distinctive."

"I understand, I understand. Education benefits generations to come, after all."

Walking down the street with the sack full of local specialties in his arms, Toad could hardly believe it. "Ah Qi... really going back to the construction site?"

"Yeah." Sing Sing had his hands in his pockets and an unlit cigarette between his lips.

"Lao Liu called. The Tiankeng Village tunnel is about to break through, and all your coworkers have strongly requested that 'Master Mo' return to cut the ribbon."

"Cut the ribbon?"

"You take a pair of scissors and go snip." Sing Sing patted his rough shoulder. "It symbolizes your official promotion from a public pariah to a representative of China's advanced productive forces."

Toad hadn't understood the first part, but he understood the word "representative."

He let out a muffled, silly chuckle and tightened his grip on the sack.

Sing Sing glanced over and caught a glimpse of several jars of Lao Gan Ma, two cartons of Hongtashan, a bag of donkey rolls, and a box of eight Beijing pastries.

Wait, what?

Why was there even solid douzhi?

"Before we head out, I'll take you to get some sugar. Your tongue must be close to cramping from all that studying these past few days, right?"

"Yes!" Toad nodded vigorously. "Um... p and b... really can't hear the difference."

The two strolled over to a Hong Kong-style café called Good Luck Comes.

Steam billowed behind the glass door as a waiter threaded between tables with pantyhose milk tea, calling out, "Hong Kong French toast's ready! Table three—"

Sing Sing entered.

Plop.

The cigarette he'd been holding between his lips fell to the floor.

The devil-may-care, roguish look on his face vanished completely in a tenth of a second.

Toad looked down at him in confusion. "Ah Qi?"

Sing Sing ignored him, his gaze fixed on a seat by the window.

A woman in a black suit sat there, her long, wavy hair cascading over her shoulders.

She held a slender menthol cigarette between her fingers and sat sideways, her back to the door.

Smoke rose from between her fingers, curled around the ends of her hair, and drifted into the café's warm light.

The way she sat...

The line of her shoulders...

The way she held that cigarette...

Three years.

Three whole years.

He had thought he'd forgotten.

But that figure from behind, that way of smoking, that slight tilt of her head—

Every frame was etched into his mind.

Jingle—

Sing Sing pushed the door open and rushed over.

"Ah Mei!"

At the sound of that familiar voice, the woman's shoulders visibly trembled.

But she didn't turn around. Only the smoke swirled around the ends of her hair.

"You finally came back? Why didn't you contact me? What do you want?"

The café was bustling with noise as Sing Sing hurried around behind her.

"What did I do wrong? Tell me, and I'll change, okay?"

The noisy café fell silent in an instant.

A middle-aged man at the next table silently put down his pineapple bun.

Two girls across the way exchanged a look that said, "Oh my god, he's so handsome, but so pitiful."

Just then, Toad, who was still standing there in a daze, vaguely heard someone singing:

For all the pain of clinging to love~

For all the wounds of clinging to hate~

I can no longer tell love and hate apart~

Is this how it'll be~~~

Ah Mei still didn't turn around.

"You didn't do anything wrong."

"You've always been good to me. But I don't like you anymore. We're simply not right for each other."

"How are we not right for each other?"

Sing Sing grew anxious. "I can change! I can accommodate you! Whatever kind of person you like, I can become what you want!"

"Accommodate my ass!"

With her back to Sing Sing, Ah Mei tilted her head up slightly, her voice beginning to tremble too.

"One of us is AM, the other is FM! We're not even on the same channel!"

"Our fate together has run its course!"

Bang!

She slammed a hand on the table, grabbed her bag, and stormed out of the café without looking back.

The wind chime swung wildly.

Sing Sing stood frozen.

He opened his mouth and managed to murmur half a sentence to the empty seat.

"I can change channels..."

No one answered.

The café returned to its usual clamor.

A spatula clanged against an iron wok in the kitchen; someone was asking about an order, and someone else was on the phone.

Toad stood three steps away.

He didn't understand what was happening, but he could read the expression on Sing Sing's face.

So even the invincible Ah Qi could break.

"Ah Qi." Toad sounded hesitant. "You... not going after her?"

Sing Sing didn't move, his eyes full of melancholy.

Just as Sing Sing was lost in his sorrow—

"Hey! Miss! You haven't paid your bill!"

The apron-clad waiter ran angrily out of the café, but Ah Mei was already nowhere to be seen.

He was filled with regret.

Damn it!

Why had he stopped to watch the show?!

Great, now someone had skipped out on the bill!

And the boss would dock his pay for it.

Overwhelmed with grief and indignation, the waiter looked back, and an idea struck him!

"Hey, handsome!"

The waiter marched over with the bill and slapped it down in front of Sing Sing.

"You two know each other, right?"

"That lady hasn't paid for her pantyhose milk tea and dry-fried beef hor fun! That's sixty-eight yuan in total. Cash or scan to pay?!"

One second, the agent was heartbroken over love.

The next, he stared at the sixty-eight-yuan bill, the corners of his eyes twitching twice.

"Sixty-eight?" Sing Sing's voice was full of killing intent. "How much is an order of dry-fried beef hor fun?"

"Thirty-eight."

"And the pantyhose milk tea?"

"Twenty."

"Then what's the other ten for?"

"The tea charge, handsome!" the waiter replied self-righteously. "If you sit at a table, you have to pay the tea charge!"

Toad watched his face turn from pale to ashen, then from ashen to a purplish red.

He couldn't tell whether Ah Qi was more upset about his heartbreak or the money.