ushernet Chapter 49: Winter Warmth
Chapter 49: Winter Warmth
Chapter 49: Winter Warmth
"Why wasn’t I born a woman?"
Qin Hao was also pondering this question.
"D*mn it, let him die for all I care."
Watching the two leave, Qin Hao stood still for a moment, picked up his PDA, and entered "130682." After a pause, he continued inputting.
"Know them?" A colleague on duty leaned over, seeing the group split up.
"Yeah, I know them."
Qin Hao gave a brief response and reviewed the information—it all checked out.
Xu Qing had been quietly staying in Jiang City. Apart from a few punishment records for past fights, there wasn’t a single issue.
“Like an old housekeeper...” Qin Hao silently mocked himself, pocketed the device, and tucked his chin into his jacket while scanning the pedestrians, looking for anyone suspicious.
The way he stood there, chin tucked, hands in his pockets, was identical to Xu Qing's posture. Who knew where the two had picked it up?
"Should I have stayed home?" Jiang He asked softly as she followed Xu Qing inside.
“There’s no such thing as should or shouldn’t. Just sit for now.”
At midday, the hotpot restaurant wasn’t busy—only a few scattered tables were occupied. Places like this thrived at night. Xu Qing found an empty table for Jiang He to sit at, then went to the front desk to pay. Returning with the receipt, he said, “Unless you’re planning to stay cooped up at home forever, that is.
"Staying home for a year wouldn’t teach you anything. You need to get out, experience things, and integrate quickly. Once you’ve adapted, everything will be fine—what matters is blending into life here."
Jiang He glanced outside at Qin Hao and his partner loitering by the roadside. She didn’t need Xu Qing to tell her that they’d just encountered some trouble.
But he wasn’t wrong. She couldn’t hide at home forever; she had to face the world. Since arriving, the furthest she’d ventured was to a birthday party once.
"Don’t worry about them. Observe and learn—it’s the quickest way to fit in," Xu Qing said, stopping when the waiter brought the broth to their table. Once the waiter left, he continued, "Don’t overthink it. You haven’t broken any laws or committed any crimes. What can they do—arrest you and execute you?"
He chuckled, glancing outside. "As long as you don’t reveal your true identity, just say you’re a wanderer. They’d have to help you find your family. Even if they can’t, they’d eventually let you go. At most, you’d be under surveillance. Relax."
"???" Jiang He frowned. "That’s not what you said before."
"Things are different now. Go grab some food."
Xu Qing unwrapped the utensils, washed them briefly, and pulled Jiang He along to pick sauces and desserts. As they moved, he explained quietly, “Everything on the shelves is available. Just take what you want and cook it. Don’t take too much at once; you can always go back for more.”
Xu Qing stopped teasing. Back then, he craved her martial skills; now, he simply liked her. What could he do about it?
Forget the TV—he could buy another.
"Eat up. I’ll fatten you up," Xu Qing said, serving her food with a ladle. Jiang He was still shy and reserved. Even though he’d told her to eat freely, she’d taken mostly vegetables and only a little meat.
She silently tasted her sauce, then glanced enviously at Xu Qing’s bowl, thinking his mix might taste better.
Amidst the steaming broth, the two sat in a corner. Shedding their jackets, they rolled up their sleeves, savoring the warmth of hotpot in the winter chill.
"Did you have hotpot back then?" Xu Qing asked.
"Something similar, but I never had it."
"Oh, I think there’s even a poem about it:
Green ant wine, red clay stove.
The evening snow falls; would you drink a cup?"
Watching Jiang He enjoy the meal, sweat forming on her forehead, Xu Qing felt inexplicably content.
Hotpot and good company—who needed alcohol when there was plenty of meat to go around?
Outside, the wind howled.
Qin Hao, holding two cups of milk tea, exchanged surprised looks with his partner.
"Did you order this?"
"Huh? Wasn’t it you?"
"..."
They stared at the receipt, noting the signature: Lei Feng.
"Drink it. It’s a kind gesture," the partner said, happily sipping through a straw. The warmth chased away the chill, leaving him feeling unexpectedly moved—not by the milk tea’s value but by the thoughtfulness of the gesture.
Qin Hao, clutching his warm cup, glanced at the phone number on the receipt, then back at the hotpot restaurant.
He subtly raised a middle finger.