Xu Chi’s mother’s expression changed slightly but quickly turned into a kind smile.
"You probably don’t know this, but Jingchu is actually related to the Xu family. His grandmother is my father-in-law’s cousin." She then looked at Sheng Jingchu with a playful tone, "And you still call me Auntie, keeping your distance. The last time I asked you about those rumors, you told me the media had it wrong."
This was a subtle way of implying that Cheng Yi was lying.
Cheng Yi hadn’t expected Sheng Jingchu to be related to the Xu family, but she wasn’t one to back down easily.
"Well, young people often break up and get back together—it’s normal."
Cheng Liao hung her head, barely daring to meet Sheng Jingchu’s eyes. She knew she had embarrassed herself and wished she could find a hole to jump into and bury herself.
An awkward silence followed.
Just as Cheng Liao was about to explain, Sheng Jingchu spoke first: "I haven’t broken up with Cheng Liao."
This statement could be interpreted in different ways by different people.
To Cheng Yi, it sounded like Sheng Jingchu was denying any romantic relationship with Cheng Liao.
But to Xu Chi’s mother, it seemed like he was denying the breakup, which meant that he and Cheng Liao were indeed a couple.
Qiao Fei, who hadn’t paid much attention to Cheng Liao before, now took a serious look at her.
Sheng Jingchu took Cheng Liao’s hand and said, "You seem unwell. How about I take you home?"
Sheng Jingchu walked at a slow pace, but Cheng Liao was so flustered that she nearly stumbled into his back when he stopped.
She rubbed her nose and turned her head away, "Did I make a fool of myself?"
She was wearing a white dress with a doll collar and ruffles, the neckline and hem trimmed with light green thread. Under the moonlight, she looked like a wilted little cabbage.
Sheng Jingchu stopped in front of a car and opened the door for her.
It was a bold red Ferrari, with sleek lines and a low chassis—the same car that Cheng Liao had admired earlier.
Her eyes widened in surprise. "Is this your car?" She sat down and touched the seat, "Do you like driving sports cars?"
Go requires immense patience, while sports cars are all about speed and adrenaline. She couldn’t imagine someone as calm and composed as Sheng Jingchu enjoying the thrill of speed.
"I used to."
When he was a teenager, just starting in the Go world, he was met with both praise and criticism. During the most stressful times, he would drive late at night on empty roads, flooring the gas pedal until the speedometer maxed out. The cold wind, mixed with sand, would whip across his face, giving him a sense of near-death exhilaration.
"This car was a prize from a competition, sponsored by the Japanese side. I expected a Japanese car, but it turned out to be a sports car. I rarely drive it these days. If Xiao Qi hadn’t taken my usual car, I wouldn’t have driven it tonight."
"But there’s an upside," he added with a rare hint of mischief in his eyes, "At least it lets people know my financial situation is still okay."
Sheng Jingchu’s usual car was a modest Hyundai, which contrasted sharply with his high-profile status, leading to media rumors that he had lost most of his wealth in Las Vegas.
Cheng Liao admired the steering wheel, "I wish I had taken up Go when I was younger. Maybe I could’ve won a sports car too."
She exaggeratedly gestured with her hands, "Don’t mind me—I’ve got a big mouth!"
She sighed dejectedly, "I’ll never be able to afford such a nice car in this lifetime, so just getting to sit in one is good enough."
Sheng Jingchu asked her, "Do you like it?"
She nodded enthusiastically, "Yes, I love it!"
As the car pulled away, it didn’t accelerate as quickly as Cheng Liao had expected, like an arrow leaving the bowstring.
She felt a bit disappointed, "This speed seems unworthy of the car—it’s almost like it feels neglected."
Sheng Jingchu couldn’t see how the car could feel neglected, but he simply said, "If you weren’t in the car, I might have driven faster."
He turned on some music, "I’m willing to take risks with my own life, but I can’t make that decision for you—that would be unethical."
He always had his own principles, like a noble character from an ancient book, out of place in this noisy world yet precious.
The music was solemn and mournful. Cheng Liao had never heard it before and curiously asked, "This isn’t English, is it?"
"It’s Hebrew," Sheng Jingchu explained. "This is Israel’s national anthem, which we translate as 'Hope.'"
The sorrowful melody made it impossible not to feel a sense of grief. Although Cheng Liao couldn’t understand the lyrics, she felt the song carried a heavy burden of suffering and endurance.
"As long as the Jewish spirit is yearning deep in the heart, with eyes turned east, looking toward Zion," Sheng Jingchu recited along with the music in a low voice.
Afterward, he sighed, "Wise nations always seem to bear more suffering."
Cheng Liao summarized, "Smart people hold more grudges."
Sheng Jingchu added, "That’s why we should be more forgetful in our daily lives."
Cheng Liao rubbed her face in frustration, "Are you hinting that I should forget about making a fool of myself at the Xu family’s party? Honestly, if you hadn’t brought it up, I’d almost forgotten."
He thought for a moment and suggested, "If you can’t forget it, set aside some time to remember it until you’re so numb that you don’t want to think about it anymore."
Cheng Liao laughed, "You’re terrible at comforting people. You should be saying something like, ‘You didn’t embarrass yourself at all, what’s there to be embarrassed about? So what if you got rejected after a crush? It’s no big deal. Didn’t God say if someone slaps your left cheek, you should offer them your right? I only got slapped on one side today—I still have room to improve.’"
She continued, "When talking to girls, never just agree with what they say—it’s easy to fall into a trap. For example, if a girl complains, ‘Oh no, I’ve gained weight, it’s so annoying,’ you mustn’t say, ‘It’s okay, you still look good.’ You should say, ‘Where are you gaining weight? Who said you’ve gained weight? Whoever said that must be blind, I’ll go deal with them!’"
Sheng Jingchu chuckled softly, "Alright then, where did you embarrass yourself? Who said you embarrassed yourself? Whoever said that must be blind, I’ll go deal with them!"
Cheng Liao gave him a thumbs-up and pointed out, "Your tone needs to be more urgent, like you’re ready to start throwing punches."
"Okay," Sheng Jingchu said, braking the car and pulling over to the side of the road. "Now you need to give me some advice."
"Huh?"
"Where are we headed?"
Cheng Liao had been thinking of going home, but then realized that since she had gone to the Xu family’s party with Cheng Yi, coming back alone would raise questions from her family.
Living with family means having to explain the same thing to every relative. By the time you’re tired of repeating yourself, the last person will be upset and accuse you of being impatient. Then you have to carefully explain that you’re not impatient and make them feel better, turning your initial frustration into an even bigger headache.
She leaned back in her seat and thought for a while, then asked Sheng Jingchu, "Are you hungry?"
"Hmm?"
"Let’s go eat something delicious!"
So the car turned around and headed to Uncle Cheng’s restaurant on Qiyuan Road.
The restaurant had already closed for the night, and Sheng Jingchu rolled down the window to confirm, "It’s closed."
Cheng Liao pulled out a key and jingled it, "But I have the key."
After turning on the air conditioning, Sheng Jingchu automatically sat in the same spot as last time.
Cheng Liao praised him, "This is the best spot—away from the kitchen smoke, not directly in the path of the air conditioning, and in a location that attracts wealth."
His choice of seat was almost identical to what Uncle Cheng would have said.
Sheng Jingchu smiled faintly, "It seems Uncle Cheng really treats me well."
Cheng Liao rummaged through the fridge. The restaurant's ingredients were bought fresh every morning, and any leftovers were taken home. After searching for a while, she couldn’t find anything substantial to cook, so she pulled out a can of corn and turned to Sheng Jingchu, "How about fried rice?"
Sheng Jingchu replied indifferently, "Whatever you like."
Cheng Liao turned on the TV for him.
Her dad liked to watch cartoons on Kaku Channel when he had nothing else to do. Cheng Liao flipped through the channels but didn’t find anything interesting, so she placed the remote next to Sheng Jingchu.
Sheng Jingchu hardly ever watched TV. He preferred reading, as he believed visual media limited the imagination. He casually changed the channel but didn’t really pay attention.
With quick hands, Cheng Liao soon brought out two plates of fried rice.
She remembered Sheng Jingchu’s dietary restrictions, so his portion had no onions, ginger, or garlic, with a bit of extra green peas. The street was usually quiet, but at night, after the Go dojo closed, it was even more deserted. The small shops along the road had already closed for the evening.
In the stillness of the night, the only sound was the clinking of porcelain spoons against the dishes.
The eggs were fried to a golden yellow, the rice grains were plump, and the dish was accompanied by diced carrots, ham, and the canned corn.
Sheng Jingchu picked up his chopsticks and methodically began separating the diced ham, then the carrots, corn, peas, and finally the eggs.
Cheng Liao couldn’t take it anymore. "Look at me—" she said as she scooped up a spoonful and exaggeratedly chewed it, "This is how you really enjoy it."
Sheng Jingchu was usually a man of few words, but perhaps because the night was so quiet and he was tired, he felt like sharing with her.
"When I was little, around three or almost four years old, I could already hold chopsticks by myself. But like most children, I liked to act spoiled. Sometimes, even when I wanted to eat, I would pretend I didn’t, just to have my mother feed me. She would peel the beans one by one and feed them to me."
"After my mother passed away, every time I ate, I would remember how she peeled beans for me, so I started separating my food just like she did. It became a habit."
He used the formal term "mother," a word that conveyed respect but also a certain distance.
Children’s memories of their parents are always tied to small, everyday moments—those moments that repeat themselves over and over in life until they become symbols of their parents.
Cheng Liao studied Sheng Jingchu’s features. It’s often said that boys resemble their mothers, and she imagined his mother must have been a beautiful woman.
"What if one day you go to the hospital for a stomach problem, and when the doctor does an ultrasound, they find that the food in your stomach is layered—green on one level, yellow on another, like a pyramid."
The thought made Cheng Liao laugh. "Honestly, if your mother were still alive, she’d probably scold you for eating like this."
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