The Qipao

After finishing the kitchen work, Fatty picked up his tools and tinkered away, finishing the remaining repairs in the mostly tidied studio.

He used a screwdriver, pulled from who knows where, to tighten several loose screws on a standing coat rack. Then, he gently tapped the joints with a hammer to make them more secure.

Finally, he wrapped a circle of black electrical tape around it.

Just as Fatty was shaking the coat rack to test if it still wobbled, he suddenly noticed a slightly bluish garment hanging in the very center.

You wouldn't be able to spot it if you weren't looking closely.

Pushing aside the nearby clothes, he was surprised to find it was a blue qipao.

It had a stand-up collar, short sleeves, was made of silk, and was exquisitely crafted.

There were even some peony-style embroideries on it, clearly not cheap. Getting closer, he could still catch a faint, elegant scent.

This was undoubtedly a woman's garment.

Fatty's spirits instantly lifted.

At that moment, footsteps could be heard descending the stairs. A few seconds later, Jiang Cheng came down carrying a large bucket of clothes.

He came down and happened to run into a Fatty with a strange look on his face.

"What are you doing?" Jiang Cheng, holding the bucket, watched Fatty with his head tilted because the clothes in the bucket were almost overflowing.

"Doctor," Fatty exclaimed, "I found a qipao on your coat rack!"

"Hm?" Jiang Cheng frowned.

"It's blue, and the slit goes up to the thigh!" He gestured with both hands, as if he had discovered a new continent.

With no malice, everything about Jiang Cheng was novel and mysterious to Fatty, like the thrill of accidentally glimpsing someone else's secret.

Jiang Cheng's expression began to turn serious, which made Fatty feel even more satisfied. He was used to being shut down by Jiang Cheng, and he finally felt like he had gained an advantage.

He suddenly began to anticipate Jiang Cheng's explanation later.

"Is there only one?" Jiang Cheng put down the large bucket of clothes and rummaged through it casually. "That's not right. There should be a pink, form-fitting one and a white fringed shawl too." Jiang Cheng looked up, staring at Fatty, and asked, "Look again."

Fatty: "???"

Then Jiang Cheng flipped the bucket of clothes upside down. Fatty froze for a moment, then his pupils dilated sharply.

If Pi Ruan had shattered his worldview, the scene before him now ground Fatty's barely reassembled worldview into dust.

When the bucket was overturned, the clothes tumbled out. Fatty took a rough glance; most of the clothes were women's, of all sorts. A plain qipao like this was nothing.

It was only then that Fatty suddenly realized what kind of person he was dealing with.

He had underestimated Jiang Cheng, not expecting him to not only be able to facilitate the pure love between someone like Pi Ruan and a wealthy woman but also to be so magnanimous as to offer himself as tribute.

"Why aren't you talking?" Jiang Cheng asked.

Fatty took a deep breath, silently returned the clothes on the coat rack to their original position, covering the qipao. Then he looked at Jiang Cheng, "Doctor, I think either I'm misunderstanding something, or the world has gone mad."

Jiang Cheng said with a serious expression, "I think you might be mistaken. These clothes don't belong to the kind of people you're imagining. I'm not Pi Ruan, I have my principles."

Fatty covered his face, thinking, Doctor, please just shut up.

But these words couldn't be spoken. Fatty calmed his emotions and asked, "Then whose are these clothes?"

He paused, as if realizing something, and his expression instantly improved. "They belong to your girlfriend, right?" After saying this, Fatty suddenly felt a little embarrassed.

Actually, this was the most normal and reasonable answer. What had he been thinking all day?

Frankly, Jiang Cheng was quite good-looking. As long as he didn't open his mouth, he looked like a normal person.

He also had a respectable and decent job.

"No," Jiang Cheng shook his head, "They belong to my landlady, who is also my boss. She left these clothes here."

Fatty shivered and his gaze towards Jiang Cheng changed drastically. He suddenly felt like the whole world was not okay.

Fatty walked to the door alone, then opened it, silently pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and put it in his mouth, his eyes vacant and lost.

Jiang Cheng turned around and saw Fatty's melancholic and lost half-profile, his face filled with stories.

"Fatty," Jiang Cheng said naturally, "I smell ribs. See if they're ready."

Hearing this, Fatty threw away the cigarette butt, turned, and walked into the kitchen. He paused for a few seconds as he passed Jiang Cheng, his mouth moving as if he wanted to say something but didn't.

Soon, a rich aroma of meat filled the air. Fatty returned with a pot of steaming soup, holding it with a cloth. Jiang Cheng had already placed a cloth on the table.

The soup pot was placed precisely on the cloth. Then Fatty brought out a plate of spicy and sour potato cubes and two large bowls of rice.