Chapter Ten: A Crushing Defeat

“Don’t your parents live here?” Lin Hui asked curiously.

“This place is just for me. They didn’t really want me living out on my own, so the renovations have been slow. Honestly, I’m not in a rush either—maybe I’ll move in after I graduate and start working.”

Lin Hui felt a twinge of envy, but it quickly faded. All her life, there had been plenty of things and people worthy of envy. Over time, she’d learned to focus her energy on herself—studying hard, living well, watching herself improve day by day, cherishing every experience.

Yuan Zhong poked her head into the bathroom. “No problem with the shower. I’ll grab you a towel, you go first. I’ll set the water for you.”

Lin Hui noticed how thoughtful Yuan Zhong was—attentive and considerate. Afraid she might not be used to the place, Yuan Zhong adjusted the shower temperature, lined up the bath essentials, and stepped out. When Lin Hui finished, a clean towel was already hanging on the rack.

As Lin Hui puzzled over where to put her dirty clothes, Yuan Zhong knocked on the door from outside. “Huihui, are you done? Just throw your clothes in with mine, I’ll run a load in the washer—it has a dryer, so they’ll be ready for you to wear tomorrow. I’ll handle it.”

“Okay.” Lin Hui opened the door wrapped in a towel. “Thanks for the trouble.”

“It’s no trouble at all—it’s not like I’m washing them by hand.” Yuan Zhong gave her a playful look. “You seem so skinny at work, but you’ve actually got some curves.”

“Oh, stop!” Lin Hui blushed.

“I’ve left the hair dryer by the bed, and there’s a set of pajamas on the bed—not new, but clean. If you don’t mind, you can wear them. Or, of course, you could sleep naked.” Yuan Zhong grinned. “I’m off to get myself all clean—wait for me, and we’ll sleep together.”

Soon, both were in bed. Lin Hui was exhausted, but the unfamiliar setting made it hard to settle in. And, of course, she had to get used to having someone by her side—her memory was filled with nights spent sleeping alone.

“Huihui?” Yuan Zhong called softly in the darkness.

“Mm?” Lin Hui answered.

“Are you asleep?”

Lin Hui giggled. “If I were asleep, I wouldn’t answer you.”

“Heh, just making sure.”

Lin Hui could feel her companion turning over to face her.

“I don’t know why, but I can’t sleep either. Let’s just talk for a bit,” Yuan Zhong said.

“Why can’t you sleep? This is your place.”

“Maybe because I hardly come here—I’m not used to it.” After a pause, she added, “Also… earlier at the shop, when you were dealing with that troublesome couple, I didn’t step in right away. I feel a little bad about that.” Yuan Zhong had been dwelling on it. Rationally, she knew she should have gone to get the manager, but emotionally, she felt she should have stood by Lin Hui immediately. The guilt had been bothering her.

“Really? I didn’t notice. I just remember you found the manager right away, which was the right thing to do,” Lin Hui said.

“Are you sure?” Yuan Zhong sounded uncertain.

“Absolutely. If I were in your shoes, I’d have done the same.”

After a while, Yuan Zhong whispered, “Thank you.”

“And thank you,” Lin Hui replied.

Yuan Zhong scooted a little closer. “Have you ever dealt with customers like that before?”

Lin Hui thought for a moment. “Not exactly the same, but I’ve met some pretty odd ones.”

“What kind of odd?” Yuan Zhong reached out and hugged one of Lin Hui’s arms like a child.

Lin Hui stayed still, trying to relax. “Mostly about the cup sizes, you know? At Starbucks, we only have Tall, Grande, and Venti. Once, a man came in and I asked what size he wanted. He said ‘Small.’ So I explained, ‘We have Tall, Grande, and Venti.’ He insisted, ‘I want Small.’ I told him, ‘We don’t have Small.’ He looked so confused, so I explained our cup sizes again. He was still perplexed and stuck to ‘Small.’ There was a long line behind him, and I was getting anxious, so I said, ‘Our Small is called Tall.’ He stared at me and asked, ‘Why is Small called Tall?’”

“Wow, that’s pretty funny. How did you answer?” Yuan Zhong pressed her for details.

“I was stumped, honestly. I wanted to say, ‘That’s just what we call it,’ but thought that sounded unfriendly—after all, it was his first time at Starbucks. So I said, ‘Our sizes are larger, so we only offer Tall, Grande, and Venti.’ But he still didn’t get it, and kept asking, ‘Compared to what? How much bigger?’”

“He must be a science guy,” Yuan Zhong joked.

“Who knows. Luckily, another customer in line spoke up and said, ‘It’s just a name, like if you name a cat Husky.’”

“That’s a funny way to put it. But what if he asked, ‘Why would you name a cat after a dog? Did you ask the cat’s opinion?’” Yuan Zhong started making up stories.

“No, he got it right away. He let out a long ‘Oh’ and told me, ‘You could have just said that’s what you call it.’”

Yuan Zhong laughed.

“So I learned—a straight answer is best,” Lin Hui concluded.

Yuan Zhong nodded repeatedly. “Exactly. If you beat around the bush, people just get confused.”

“Another time, I met a customer with a similar issue. I just told him, ‘Our Tall is the smallest.’ He got mad, accused me of looking down on him because he’d never been there before, and even claimed we were deceiving customers.”

“So what did you do?”

“What could I do? I couldn’t argue with him. No matter what he said, I just kept asking, ‘Tall, Grande, or Venti?’ Eventually, he gave up.”

“No matter what you say, it’s never right. It’s not easy,” Yuan Zhong sighed.

“Starbucks is okay. I’ve worked in small shops before—dealt with drunks, people running out on the bill, all sorts.” Lin Hui yawned.

Yuan Zhong yawned too. “You’re amazing. Get some sleep. Tell me more stories next time.”

This time, both of them quickly fell asleep.

The next day, thanks to the convenient location, they let themselves sleep in a little. After getting up, Yuan Zhong took Lin Hui to a little noodle shop for breakfast. They had handmade noodles in a spicy broth, simple but delicious.

Lin Hui couldn’t stop praising it. “I can’t believe this is so close and I never knew about it.”

“See? When it comes to food, you have to ask a local like me. Now I know for next time.”

“What do you mean? What do you know?”

Yuan Zhong looked a bit sheepish. “When we’re at work, I always see you eating bread and burgers. I thought you liked them.”

Lin Hui made a crying face.

“I’ll ask you next time, so there’s no misunderstanding. There’s also a great flatbread shop near an apartment complex close by. Super tasty—one is enough to fill you up. I’ll take you there for dinner. If we go a bit further by bike, there’s a fantastic spicy hot pot place too.”

“Alright, I’ll follow your lead when it comes to food.”

“Great! When I get paid, let’s go to a nice restaurant. I know a place with great home-cooked dishes—delicious and not expensive. We’ll order a couple of dishes to celebrate. I have to thank you for helping me get this job, so it’s my treat.”

Lin Hui thought for a moment. “Alright, next time it’s on me.”

“It’s a deal.” Yuan Zhong’s eyes crinkled with a smile.

Sometimes, friendship grows just like this—through shared meals, casual conversations, and even being a little trouble for each other, the relationship becomes something different.

Lin Hui’s idea of arriving “a bit late” was still earlier than Yuan Zhong’s, so she waited at the door playing games on her phone. When she queued up, she saw “Chaplin’s Mouth” online. She was about to start a solo game when he sent an invite. Remembering she’d need to team up with Yuan Zhong and him later, she accepted.

Halfway through the game, she saw Yuan Zhong arrive.

“Sorry, I overslept. My mom insisted I wait for her to make fresh egg dumplings.” Yuan Zhong hurried to open the door.

“No worries, I wasn’t much earlier,” Lin Hui replied casually.

“You keep playing—I’ll heat up the food.” Yuan Zhong rushed into the kitchen.

“Why don’t I play and you heat the food?” Lin Hui followed her in.

Yuan Zhong peeked in and recognized Zhang Shun’s account, quickly shaking her head.

“Silly, what are you afraid of?” Lin Hui was puzzled.

“It’s not fear—I just need more practice. You two play first, I’ll make lunch.” Yuan Zhong ushered Lin Hui out of the kitchen.

By the time Lin Hui finished her game, Yuan Zhong had almost finished cooking.

“That was quick!” Lin Hui brought the plates to the table.

“Pre-made stuff is easy—microwave, oven, air fryer, used them all. Of course it’s fast. Let’s eat, then we can play together.” Yuan Zhong was almost rubbing her hands in anticipation.

Yuan Zhong hadn’t forgotten she had a disciple, nor her promise. Over lunch, she confessed, “I’ll be bringing a disciple this time, but she’s a bit hopeless.” She thought to herself: maybe “a bit” is an understatement.

“You have a disciple? Impressive,” Lin Hui said in surprise.

“Uh-huh.” Yuan Zhong grinned, pleased with herself. “I’m her GOAT.”

Lin Hui laughed. “Alright, let me see your disciple’s skills.”

Qi Leyi had no idea her mentor was talking about her. Eager, she set out to forge her own path.

After brunch, Qi Leyi silently wished herself luck and logged into Honor of Kings.

First match: she picked Liu Chan as a support, since her mentor said she was good at push-support roles. She played carefully, neither excelling nor failing, but her teammates were just as mediocre, and they lost around the eighteenth minute.

She consoled herself: it was the team’s fault.

Second match: after some thought, she picked Jiang Ziya, who can play both mid and support. Unfortunately, the marksman was weak, the team lacked damage, and after just ten minutes, they’d given up eight kills—the team surrendered.

Third match: she went for Zhen Ji, her mentor’s famously terrifying hero. She locked it in, but the team lacked a jungler, the gold gap widened, and the enemy all bought Magic Cloaks. There was nothing she could do.

Fourth match: teeth gritted, she picked her main, Little Luban. She gave up first blood right at the start, died repeatedly, was hunted down by Sun Wukong with Yao, and her teammates bombarded her with criticism. Furious and flustered, she couldn’t even find time to retort.

Fifth match…

Sixth match… Each loss was even more miserable than the last—words failed her.

Watching her rank drop, Qi Leyi realized that one more loss and she’d fall out of the Star Glory tier.

Chanting silent prayers for luck, she stared at the “Start” button, too afraid to press it.

Just then, an invite popped up from “Original Fortune Worth a Thousand Gold.” Qi Leyi accepted instantly, overjoyed. She hadn’t been abandoned after all!