Sweetness Is Incessantly Late

THE LAST SERVING OF SWEET AND SOUR PORK RIBS

Chi Yu sullenly squeezed through the cafeteria crowd, the smell of food in the air made him breathless, and the ground was sticky, making every step difficult to take.

Once he got to the serving counter, he frowned and called out to the auntie behind the window: “A serving of sweet and sour pork ribs.”

“A serving of sweet and sour pork ribs, thank you.”

If it weren’t for the extra “thank you”, Chi Yu would have thought it was a hallucination, to even hear echoes while talking in the cafeteria.

Chi Yu turned around impatiently and looked at the expressionless youth in front of him. The buzzing noise in his head exploded in the form of a mushroom-shaped cloud. The boy was tall and had good posture, delicate features, and fair skin. The pair of long, light brown eyes carried a hint of surprise, but it vanished in just an instant.

Looking at the bit of sweet and sour pork ribs left behind the serving counter, Chi Yu no longer paid any attention to the boy of similar height standing beside him, coldly saying: “Sweet and sour pork ribs, please hurry.”

“Auntie, sweet and sour pork ribs, please.” Almost as if it had been premediated, the boy beside him spoke up in unison. Neither of them knew how long they had delayed the queue. If the culprits had been someone else, the students waiting behind them would have already long started complaining.

But the ones standing at the front of the queue now were Chi Yu and Fu Zhi’an, so they were very patient. They stretched out their necks, as if worried they would miss out on even a little bit of the current spectacle. After all, the two school beaus had never interacted even once in the past year, and yet here they were, staring each other down over a serving of sweet and sour pork ribs.

The curly-haired serving auntie adjusted the white cap on her head as she looked at the darkened expressions of the two good-looking youths, suggesting: “Well, there’s only enough sweet and sour pork ribs for one serving, why not…”

“I only want this, I’m picky.” Chi Yu said indifferently, holding his meal card over the reader as if swearing an oath of sovereignty over that glistening portion of pork ribs.

Before the other serving auntie could say anything else, the boy with delicate features smiled with crescent eyes: “I want those pork ribs too.”

“Fu Zhi’an, are you fucking sick!” Chi Yu slapped a hand fiercely against the table, turning around to glare at the boy’s insincere smile.

“Who might you be?” The boy raised a brow, his eyes were clear like glazed pearls, full of cold indifference. Fu Zhi’an turned back around to face the serving auntie behind the window, smiling: “We won’t waste other students’ time anymore, just let this fellow student have the last serving.”

Hearing this, Chi Yu nearly jumped from anger, his face flushed red as he blurted: “Who the fuck wants to eat the stuff you don’t want!”

“That’s fine.” After hearing those words, Fu Zhi’an fished out his meal card and slid it over the serving counter, smiling politely at the serving auntie: “Auntie, I’ll have the sweet and sour pork ribs, thank you.”

Fu Zhi’an then walked off with his tray without a backward glance, leaving behind a livid Chi Yu standing in the crowd. Chi Yu glanced down at his branded sneakers, now stamped full of footprints, and felt the rage burning in his heart. He tugged irritably at his collar, muttering to himself as he headed outside: “Fuck, I’m so damn unlucky.”

Once Fu Zhi’an found a seat, a thin boy conveniently sat himself across from him, holding onto his chopsticks and asking: “You actually don’t recognize Chi Yu?”

The hand Fu Zhi’an used to hold his chopsticks froze in place, then he picked up a piece of sweet and sour pork rib and placed it in his mouth, filling it with the soft, sickly-sweet texture.

Seeing that the other didn’t respond, the boy spoke freely.

“Chi Yu is from Class 1, he’s always up in the school popularity rankings alongside you.” He picked up some egg with his chopsticks and stuffed his mouth full, but the egg was not enough to shut him up, so he continued talking: “But he’s a whole other story when compared to you, always causing trouble and messing around, the number of reflections he writes in a year can probably be bound into a book.”

Upon hearing that, Fu Zhi’an lowered his head, the corners of his lips curving up as he ate a mouthful of rice.

“Ay, but he was reincarnated in a fortunate place. He has a rich father to clean up after his mess, so he can do whatever he wants.” Halfway through his speech, the boy noticed that Fu Zhi’an had barely touched the sweet and sour pork ribs. He asked, grinning: “If you don’t want the ribs, give them to me?” Sweet and sour pork ribs were the most expensive item on the cafeteria’s menu, so he rarely ate it.

Fu Zhi’an watched him steal a piece of pork rib and his lips twitched, but still, he didn’t say anything.

The female students stole glances at him as they passed him by, and the boy basked in the attention as well. He thought about the conversation they were having, and resumed the discussion: “Oh right, I heard from the students in Class 1 that Chi Yu’s parents have never attended a parent-teacher conference.”

“Do you think he might be an illegitimate child?”

From the start, Fu Zhi’an had his head down as he ate, but now he suddenly looked up. With a blank expression, he tilted his head and asked softly, “You’ve been sitting here and talking nonstop, but who are you?”

The boy’s expression stiffened and he let out a somewhat awkward laugh: “Don’t joke around, Fu Zhi’an. I’ve been sitting in front of you in class for half the semester.”

“Don’t remember.” Fu Zhi’an spat the words out coldly, then glanced at the pork ribs on his plate and continued: “Also, don’t just randomly take food off someone else’s plate.”

Reaching out with his chopsticks, Fu Zhi’an returned the pork ribs to his own plate and lowered his head again, no longer paying any attention to the dumbfounded boy across him.

Only after the other left in embarrassment did Fu Zhi’an place his chopsticks down. He stared at the pork ribs on his plate in a quiet daze. He really didn’t like eating this, even one piece was greasy enough to warrant quite a few sips of water. He genuinely didn’t understand why that person liked it so much.

The after-class bell reverberated throughout the spacious sports field, Chi Yu had a piece of toast in his mouth as he laid on the ground. It wasn’t until he heard the noise of chatter drifting over from the teaching block that he picked his bag up and got to his feet. He patted the dust off his pants and slowly headed over to the school gates, only to hear the crisp voice of a girl sounding out from near him.

“Hey, Chi Yu.” A girl with wavy chestnut-coloured hair blocked Chi Yu’s path with a hand, lifting her head up to look at him in confidence. Her brightly coloured lip gloss glistened under the light of the lampposts.

Chi Yu regarded her with indifference. When she remained silent, he spat out: “A good dog doesn’t block the road.”

The girl’s proud smile stiffened, but she had faith in her attractive looks. Giving her hair a toss, she approached with a new question: “What I told you last time, have you thought about it?”

Chi Yu’s mind was hazy, when did she even tell him anything? And to think about it? Think about what?

He didn’t reply, so the girl didn’t move away either. He endured it until he could no longer hide the displeasure on his face. In a sudden moment of realization, Chi Yu let out an “oh” and tugged his bag to the front, fishing out a stack of pink envelopes. He offered the envelopes to her: “Which one is yours? Find it yourself.”

This sort of bullshit response, coupled with Chi Yu’s handsome face, finally cracked down the girl’s proud façade. Eyes reddening, she turned and ran away. With a frown, Chi Yu once again stuffed the envelopes into his bag, muttering: “What a nutcase.”

Dragging his lengthening shadow as he walked through the school grounds, he was about to step out the school gates when he paused right by the school bulletin board. Chi Yu looked at the two notices of similar colours stuck right at the top of the board. Written at the top of the notice on the left was Fu Zhi’an’s name, while the first name on the notice to the right was Chi Yu’s name. The only difference was that the notice on the left was the school’s academic ranking, and the one on the right was the school-wide detention list.

This also happened to be the closest the distance between them ever came down to; Fu Zhi’an’s name was usually ranked first in the year, while Chi Yu lived up to expectations and was permanently first on the detention notice.

“Tch.” Chi Yu huffed in disdain, then sauntered out the school gates.

Though Chi Yu didn’t damage the bulletin board, the space on the academic ranking beside Fu Zhi’an’s name was filled in with an extra word: Dumbass.