TAO | Chapter 69

The crumpled banknotes were warm, slightly damp from Jiang Zhan’s grip. They looked like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon, slowly unfurling in Wei Xiaochi’s palm.

He quietly watched as the notes seemed to spread their “wings,” as if trying to fly away from his hand.

After a moment of hesitation, the omega carefully pinched the bills and smoothed them out.

Three notes. Three hundred yuan.

Jiang Zhan quickly glanced at him before lowering his gaze to his less-than-clean white sneakers. “It’s not much,” he muttered, “but it’s still more than you’d make wearing that stupid costume.”

Wei Xiaochi ran his fingers over the slightly damp bills, his eyelashes fluttering. Finally, he looked up at Jiang Zhan.

As if finding his voice again, Wei Xiaochi asked hoarsely, “How… did you earn this?”

Jiang Zhan half-turned away, clearly reluctant to answer. He mumbled vaguely, “Just… worked for it. Nothing special.”

When Wei Xiaochi didn’t let up, still looking at him with those calm eyes, Jiang Zhan finally grumbled, “Cleaned two pools.”

The alpha’s pride weighed heavily on him. He didn’t want Wei Xiaochi imagining how ridiculous he might have looked scrubbing a pool.

But Wei Xiaochi didn’t see it that way. He wasn’t picturing anything humiliating—he approached it entirely from the perspective of a laborer.

“Was it tiring?” Wei Xiaochi asked.

Jiang Zhan tilted his chin up coolly. “It was fine.”

After a moment, though, he turned his head away, stretching out a hand. “Just got a few small cuts.”

He was like a clumsy, attention-seeking child, torn between wanting to act tough and craving someone’s care.

Jiang Zhan’s skin had reacted to the rubber gloves. Hours of work left his fingers wrinkled, and several thin, reddish cuts lined his palms like shrimp veins. Though the bleeding had stopped, the wounds looked raw, faintly splitting open.

“You should get some ointment for that,” Wei Xiaochi suggested.

Jiang Zhan pulled his hand back quickly. “No need.”

Though Jiang Zhan had been pampered since childhood and had never done household chores, his body wasn’t frail. He excelled in basketball, surfing, skateboarding, and pool. By the time he was a child, his hands already bore faint calluses. Otherwise, after a day of work, he would’ve ended up with blisters instead of just minor cuts.

To him, these wounds were nothing. But if Wei Xiaochi asked, he couldn’t help but show them off.

Seeing that Jiang Zhan wouldn’t accept help, Wei Xiaochi didn’t push further. Instead, he asked, “Hungry?”

“Not really.”

“Want to grab something to eat?”

“Sure.”

Wei Xiaochi thought for a moment before suggesting, “Let’s get something nice. My treat—KFC.”

To Wei Xiaochi, KFC counted as “something nice.” Jiang Zhan gave him a complicated look.

Wei Xiaochi’s family situation was harder than Jiang Zhan had imagined.

It made sense, though. Living in such a run-down neighborhood, in such a small apartment—it wasn’t surprising that he needed to work part-time.

Jiang Zhan didn’t have a clear concept of wealth or poverty. Growing up surrounded by friends like Han Ziyang and Li Suilin, who came from equally privileged backgrounds, his worldview was somewhat narrow—he was the type to wonder why the poor didn’t just eat cake.

In reality, though, while the apartment was small, in a city as expensive as A City, owning a ninety-square-meter apartment was a dream for many, something they might never achieve in a lifetime.

And older buildings like Wei Xiaochi’s often came with redevelopment potential. Given the rapid growth of A City, many older neighborhoods had already been demolished and rebuilt. It was only a matter of seven or eight years before Wei Xiaochi’s area might face the same fate, and the property’s value had already skyrocketed.

It wasn’t that the Wei family was poor—it was just that Wei Xiaochi himself was.

There was a KFC near the library.

Jiang Zhan trailed sullenly behind Wei Xiaochi, still upset that the omega had brushed off his injuries.

Not that the cuts really needed medication—if Wei Xiaochi had insisted on buying some, Jiang Zhan would have stopped him. But the way Wei Xiaochi had just moved on from the topic left him feeling unimportant.

When they reached KFC, Wei Xiaochi pushed open the door and walked to the counter. Jiang Zhan tugged on his arm.

Confused, Wei Xiaochi turned around. Jiang Zhan’s face was stiff. “Look up the deals online before ordering.”

“Huh? What deals?”

“Cheaper combo meals. There’s probably some KFC strategy guide online or something.”

Jiang Zhan had always ordered whatever he wanted without looking at prices, but he vaguely recalled hearing about discount hacks online.

Wei Xiaochi found the suggestion reasonable. They found a quiet corner, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder as they browsed their phones.

Jiang Zhan searched online while Wei Xiaochi opened the WeChat mini program he’d been directed to, comparing combos to find the best value.

Though they couldn’t completely outwit corporate greed, they were determined to give as little as possible.

The cheapest combo they found included a cola, burger, and fries for 41 yuan. Wei Xiaochi ordered two.

It only took a couple of minutes for the food to be ready. Choosing a seat by the window, Wei Xiaochi noticed Jiang Zhan heading to the restroom and followed him.

At the sink, he dampened his hands under the sensor-activated faucet before squirting a small amount of foam soap. Gently, he took the alpha’s hand and carefully worked the soap over his palms, avoiding the small cuts as he rubbed.

Jiang Zhan stared at the swirl of light over the top of Wei Xiaochi’s head, all his earlier dissatisfaction vanishing instantly.

His heart felt as if it were bubbling with pink, fizzy joy—so light it could pop at the slightest touch and overflow with happiness.

His frustration stemmed from feeling neglected, from the fear that he didn’t matter to Wei Xiaochi.

But when he received even the smallest gestures of care and attention, he fell into an indescribable state of bliss.

Leaning in, Jiang Zhan secretly brushed his chin against the softness of Wei Xiaochi’s hair.

Author’s Note:

Jiang Zhan really has the petty, attention-seeking mindset of a “little girlfriend.” Those of you who’ve been in relationships probably get it, right?

Hehe.