Planting Something in My Heart

Barley ate a soy-braised pork bun, occasionally picking up a bite of deli meat and mixing it with the noodles she had made herself. She was eating happily, with a hint of excitement. After all, she was always too lazy to move around, so her meals could hardly be called good or varied—most of the time, she just made do. Only when Nana occasionally brought something back would she have a couple of bites.

Eating without talking, especially when two strangers were sitting face-to-face, was inevitably a little awkward. Barley might have been rather withdrawn, but she was not depressed to that extent. She still felt somewhat uncomfortable.

Looking at Wang Yan across from her, wolfing down food while scrolling through news on his phone, she thought for a moment and said, "You have a really good appetite. You eat a lot."

Wang Yan looked up from his phone and at Barley. "Not bad. I went out for a run this morning. Exercise improves your appetite. Those dark circles under your eyes make you look like a baby panda. You obviously stay up late all the time. You were up all night again last night, weren't you? Keep that up, and you'll definitely get sick. I think you should seriously adjust your schedule. Then you'll have a healthier body and a better appetite."

It was like two strangers sharing a confined elevator, even keeping their breathing subdued. He knew Barley was embarrassed. A long, long time ago, he would have been embarrassed too, but later he had gradually learned the principle of "as long as I'm not embarrassed, then you're the one who's embarrassed"—in other words, being shameless and thick-skinned.

Really, though, it was mainly because Barley was more sensitive. Men and women were different, after all, and she was