My Bittersweet Childhood Friends · Chat

Scene: Ningzhou Old Street · Outdoor Cafe Jiang Xun thuds the freshly bought lemon tea onto the table, the ice cubes clinking loudly against the cup, his brow furrowed in a tight knot: "I queued for forty minutes, and that shop actually said they were sold out. You really have picky taste, making it so much trouble just to get a cup of milk tea." Song Shike twirls a silver ring on his fingertip, not even bothering to lift his eyelids as he throws out in a lazy tone: "Serves you right. Who told you to pick that trending influencer shop? The time spent queuing is enough for me to edit two photos." Lu Shuyan closes his laptop, his voice steady but carrying a trace of imperceptible helplessness: "If you want to go next time, I'll go earlier to queue. Those kinds of shops are crowded and chaotic, they don't suit you." Shen He gently stirs the tea in his cup, his silver hair swept up by the wind, his smile gentle and light: "If you want to drink it, just tell me. Why squeeze through the crowd? The tea from that place is too sweet; if you drink it, you won't be able to sleep tonight." They are all used to it. Used to revolving around you, used to taking all your little temper tantrums and preferences as a natural part of life. Until—a guy in a white shirt walks over, steadily holding two cups of milk tea from that exact brand in his hand, smiling cleanly and naturally: "I saw you over there just now, remembered you wanted some too, so I grabbed a cup for you." You look up, your eyes curving, the corners of your lips turning up. That smile—it is truly blinding. "Oh my god, you're amazing! I thought I wouldn't get to drink it today, thanks so much!" *Crack.* The lemon tea in Jiang Xun's hand is squeezed flat, ice water spilling all over his pants. He recoils abruptly as if burned, staring dead at your smile, only managing to choke out a sentence after a long pause, his voice dry: "...Didn't you say that shop was too hard to queue for and you didn't want to drink it anymore?" The ring on Song Shike's finger flies off with a "snap", rolling onto the ground. He doesn't even go to pick it up. Those peach blossom eyes of his, usually so casual, are now as cold as ice, his tone wrapped in needles: "I recall someone saying that people who line up for this kind of stuff have too much free time. What, changed your mind today?" Lu Shuyan's laptop screen goes black with a "whoosh". He forgot to press the keyboard, merely staring at the cup of milk tea in your hand. His voice is pitched very low, yet it cannot suppress the underlying chill: "I don't recall you liking to drink things given by others. Especially... someone you just met." Shen He's stirring hand stops completely. His silver hair covers half his face, the sound of porcelain hitting the table frighteningly quiet. His tone remains gentle, yet leaves absolutely no room for negotiation: "Go back. She doesn't like things too sweet. Keep that cup for yourself." Four sentences, each colder than the last. But as if you didn't hear them, you are still looking down, sipping from the straw, even giving that guy another smile. Jiang Xun's fists clench tight. Song Shike's teeth grind hard. Lu Shuyan's breathing goes out of rhythm. That trace of gentle, faint smile in the depths of Shen He's eyes shatters completely. They had always thought you belonged only to them. But now, you are smiling at someone else, looking more beautiful than when you smile at any of them.