Chapter 4: I Really Deserve to Die
The first morning of the new school year’s “takeout ordering extravaganza” ended with Gu Qinghuan adding every single classmate on WeChat.
Her family wasn’t strict about her ordering takeout—mainly because her aunt, who did most of the cooking, wasn’t very good at it. In fact, her aunt herself often ordered takeout. As a result, Gu Qinghuan had basically tried every delivery place in the city.
So when helping with the orders, she was able to give plenty of useful recommendations.
Yu Xin had a phone, but didn’t know how to use it very well. Gu Qinghuan taught her to download WeChat and register an account. Yu Xin then volunteered to write down everyone’s orders, which took a huge load off Gu Qinghuan’s shoulders.
Yu Xin also had an amazing memory—just hearing an order once, she could remember it. She wasn’t fast at typing, so she wrote everything down by hand.
When she passed the list to Gu Qinghuan, they were separated by Jiang Chuchu’s seat, but a slight stretch of the arm was enough.
Jiang Chuchu didn’t mind and shifted aside, but when her eyes swept over the paper, she blurted out, “Wow, your handwriting is ugly!”
Yu Xin froze on the spot. She didn’t know whether to keep passing the paper or pull her hand back. Embarrassment and discomfort rushed up at once, making her whole body tremble.
Gu Qinghuan took the paper and turned to Jiang Chuchu. “My handwriting isn’t great either. What’s yours like?”
Jiang Chuchu hadn’t even considered the impact of her words. Hearing Gu Qinghuan’s question, she grabbed a fountain pen and boldly wrote the three characters for “Gu Qinghuan.”
“Here, have a look.”
“Your handwriting is really beautiful,” Gu Qinghuan said honestly. The strokes were graceful yet strong, elegant with personality—truly striking.
Jiang Chuchu tilted her chin up proudly.
“Write Yu Xin’s name too,” Gu Qinghuan said earnestly.
Riding the high of being complimented, Jiang Chuchu happily obliged, writing out Yu Xin’s name with a flourish.
Gu Qinghuan immediately walked over to Yu Xin’s side and handed her the paper. “Look, Yu Xin—your name looks so pretty.”
Yu Xin’s hand still trembled, but Gu Qinghuan gently guided her finger to trace the characters.
It really was beautiful—better than any printed font she’d seen in books, nothing like her own scrawls.
Maybe it was the warmth of the hand holding hers, but Yu Xin suddenly felt calm. All the shame from a moment ago dissolved.
She looked up and smiled at Jiang Chuchu. “Your handwriting really is beautiful.”
The person she’d just criticized was now sincerely complimenting her back. Jiang Chuchu felt a little awkward and cleared her throat. “It’s nothing. If you practice more, yours can be just as nice. My grandma taught me calligraphy when I was three. After so many years, if it still didn’t look good, that’d be a waste.”
She handed over her fountain pen. “Take it. Practice with this. Tonight I’ll find you a few copybooks. A few months and your handwriting will be fine.”
“No need for the pen,” Yu Xin said, returning it. She had noticed that Jiang Chuchu was really in the habit of giving things away. “But I do need the copybooks. My junior high homeroom teacher also said better handwriting could boost my exam scores.”
Jiang Chuchu was used to being refused by Gu Qinghuan earlier, so she didn’t mind Yu Xin turning down the pen. She casually asked, “Then why didn’t you practice before?”
“My old home wouldn’t buy me stationery. Any free time, I had to watch my little brother… and do the laundry. Summer was okay, but in winter my hands got chilblains—itchy and painful…” Yu Xin’s voice trailed off.
She normally never complained. Her “mother” at the time would hit or scold her if she showed even a trace of unhappiness. Over time, she’d stopped speaking up.
But here, she felt like she could.
“…Damn it,” Jiang Chuchu muttered.
“What?” Gu Qinghuan didn’t catch it.
“I said, I really deserve to die,” Jiang Chuchu groaned.
From in front, Qin Yue—who’d been eavesdropping the whole time—burst into laughter.
Jiang Chuchu shot him a sharp glare. “Qin Yue! You’re listening in? And laughing at me?”
“Who’s laughing at you? I’m reading a novel! Can’t I laugh?” he protested.
Ignoring him, Jiang Chuchu told Yu Xin, “I’ll teach you to practice. When I bring the copybooks tomorrow, I’ll show you. Buy a fountain pen if you have time—nowadays they use refillable ink cartridges, no need for bottled ink…”
Seeing the two chatting, Gu Qinghuan felt relieved, pulled back her hand, and sat down to wait for class.
Qin Yue seized the chance while Jiang Chuchu wasn’t looking, leaning over his chair to grin at Gu Qinghuan. “You’re really something.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be reading your novel?” she shot back. He really was treating her like entertainment.
“No, I’m serious,” Qin Yue said. “With Jiang Chuchu’s temper, even my family’s dog has to avoid her. You not only avoided fighting with her, you made her reflect on herself. You’ve got a way with words.”
“I just believe she didn’t mean any harm,” Gu Qinghuan replied.
“Where does that confidence come from?” he asked.
She thought for a moment. “Maybe… I just want to believe in every girl.” She could be cautious with strangers, but she didn’t want to assume bad intentions from the start—at least not toward other girls.
“And what about boys?” Qin Yue leaned in with interest.
Gu Qinghuan rolled her eyes. “Better to trust a puppy than a man.”
Qin Yue’s smile collapsed. He huffed and turned back around.
At noon, Mingde High didn’t open the gates, so students ate in the campus cafeteria. When school let out for lunch, most classes headed for the canteen—except Class Three, where three people bolted for the gate and came back carrying a colorful pile of takeout bags.
Gu Qinghuan lugged four pizza boxes. “Qin Yue! Slow down!”
Qin Yue’s arms were covered in milk tea bags, yet he sprinted ahead. “Your legs are too short!”
Furious, Gu Qinghuan would’ve kicked him if she weren’t worried about dropping the pizzas.
The other boy helping out had a mountain of takeout bags in one hand and still managed to sip his own drink. “Chew chew… this boba… chew chew… so good.”
His name was Song Yi, a towering 1.89 meters, with an upright, sturdy build. In his self-introduction, he’d said he was a provincial sanda champion.
When ordering, he’d sheepishly admitted he wanted strawberry boba, but his family called it “a girl’s drink,” so he’d never tried it.
Gu Qinghuan not only got him the strawberry boba but also ordered him a peach-cheese tea from another shop—purely for maximum pinkness.
“Drinks are genderless!” she declared. Song Yi was so moved he immediately proclaimed her his honorary big sister.
By the time she and Song Yi got back, Yu Xin had already handed out nearly half the drinks.
Seeing Gu Qinghuan, Yu Xin quickly took the pizza boxes and passed her an iced black tea. “Take a break.”
Jiang Chuchu entered with three other classmates. “I brought back some cafeteria set meals for anyone still hungry after takeout.”
“That’s thoughtful of you,” Gu Qinghuan said.
Wearing disposable gloves, Jiang Chuchu picked a fried chicken drumstick, took a cautious bite, then nodded in surprise. “Not bad.”
She took another bite before adding, “This is pretty good.”
Her family never made food like this—it didn’t show off the chef’s skills. Her mother preferred light meals for her figure, so greasy foods like this were never on the menu. Her father often ate out and didn’t care about home cooking.
Maybe she could ask the chef to make it next time? The thought was interrupted by Qin Yue thrusting an iced lemon water into her hand. “Here, try this.”
She sipped it and frowned. “Why does lemon water taste like this?”
“It’s good! And only four yuan a cup!” Qin Yue said proudly.
Four yuan? Jiang Chuchu looked at the large cup. Had she ever drunk anything this cheap? And why was lemon water so sweet?
While Qin Yue wasn’t looking, she took another sip.
Well… not wasting food was a virtue. She might as well finish it.
