TAO | Chapter 72

Because Jiang Zhan refused to write his reflection, Wei Minzhen got so mad he canceled Class 7’s PE class for the week.

One person’s mistake, the whole class suffers—classic psychological warfare.

Wei Minzhen had already started tallying Jiang Zhan’s offenses, and if they added up to five, he planned to invite Jiang Tang to school for a “friendly chat.”

He was currently sitting at four strikes—just one away from triggering that tea invitation. So Wei Minzhen gave Jiang Zhan a warning, then told him to scram.

Hit them where it hurts.

Jiang Zhan wasn’t afraid of Jiang Tang, but he didn’t want her making a trip to school because of him either. That thought alone made him act a lot more obedient lately.

As Jiang Zhan’s deskmate, Han Ziyang could see the change up close. Compared to last week’s moody, irritable version of Jiang Zhan, this week’s version was practically zen.

No doubt whose credit that was.

Seeing that they had finally made up, Han Ziyang couldn’t help but praise himself from the heart—Damn, I really am just a plain ol’ reconciliation genius.

If it weren’t for his constant matchmaking efforts, who knew how long those two would’ve kept dragging it out.

But as for one of the people actually in this relationship, Wei Xiaochi, he still had no idea how to describe the current situation between him and Jiang Zhan.

They’d broken up, yet… not quite.

Every day during the long break between classes, Jiang Zhan would wait for him by the little grove. If he didn’t show, Jiang Zhan would bombard him on WeChat.

They still ate lunch together. After school, Jiang Zhan still walked him home.

If you said they hadn’t broken up—well, Jiang Zhan no longer acted clingy like before. He hadn’t kissed or hugged him since. There was always some physical distance between them.

These past few days, they’d been tiptoeing around each other in this weirdly awkward but peaceful atmosphere. Neither had brought up the breakup again.

⸻

On Friday afternoon, there were only three classes. After school, Wei Xiaochi pushed his bike out of the school gates and immediately saw Jiang Zhan waiting off to the side.

They crossed the street one after the other. As the crowd of students around them thinned, they fell into silent step beside each other.

It had rained all night yesterday, and it only cleared up by late afternoon. The heavy clouds were still low in the sky, trimmed with golden light at the edges.

The road near Wei Xiaochi’s neighborhood was a bit muddy. He glanced at Jiang Zhan’s clean sneakers and said, “You don’t have to walk me to the door. Here’s fine.”

Jiang Zhan came to a stop and, for once, sounded hesitant. “You… don’t go to your part-time job tomorrow. I can take care of you.”

The last part was muttered so quietly and fast that Wei Xiaochi didn’t quite catch it. He blinked and said, “Huh?”

Jiang Zhan’s ears went red. He snapped bluntly, “I said I’ll go out and earn money, and I’ll make more than you!”

Wei Xiaochi didn’t know how to argue with that—and honestly didn’t want to. He just said, “You really don’t have to—”

Before he could finish, Jiang Zhan cut him off, flustered and loud, “Don’t have to what?!”

Wei Xiaochi had wanted to say, You don’t have to force yourself to fit into my world, but seeing Jiang Zhan glaring at him with those cold, sharp eyes, he swallowed the words.

Instead, he chose a gentler tone: “It’s finally the weekend. You could go skating with friends, or play indoor basketball.”

Jiang Zhan clearly didn’t appreciate the suggestion. Irritated and anxious, he deliberately stepped right into a mud puddle. “I want to. It’s none of your business!”

Like a brat throwing a tantrum and making a mess just because he could.

Wei Xiaochi looked down at the now-muddy left sneaker, stunned for a moment, then softly asked, “So… are you still going to clean the swimming pool tomorrow?”

Chin raised, lips pressed tight, Jiang Zhan said nothing, wearing an obvious “don’t tell me what to do” look.

If he really didn’t want to be told what to do, he’d probably throw another fit. Wei Xiaochi sighed inwardly.

“If you’re still going to clean the pool,” he said, “I’ll go with you tomorrow. We can finish faster with two people.”

Honestly, it was a better deal. Handing out flyers under the sun all day earned him 115 yuan, but cleaning a swimming pool meant 150 yuan per person.

Jiang Zhan’s ears twitched, and he immediately pulled out his phone to make a call.

Wei Xiaochi looked at him in confusion.

The alpha mumbled awkwardly, “I’m calling to confirm. He said there’s work on weekends, but didn’t say exactly what kind.”

Wei Xiaochi thought Jiang Zhan had gone through an agency and was about to ask about commission fees when the call connected.

Without waiting for pleasantries, Jiang Zhan asked, “Didn’t you say there’s weekend work? Is it still pool cleaning?”

He glanced down at his now-muddy sneakers and frowned, then looked away.

The guy on the other end was clearly surprised that this spoiled rich kid wanted to come again. “Sure, we do have work. But tomorrow morning a client reserved the pool for 10 a.m., so it has to be cleaned by 9:30.”

Last time Jiang Zhan had cleaned a large pool. This time it was a private one—smaller, but still would take two hours even for an experienced worker.

And there weren’t any extra pools lying around like last time for him to “practice” on. Afraid he’d slow down and delay a VIP customer, the manager tried to talk him out of it: “This pool’s gonna take at least three hours. Would coming at 6:30 be too early for you?”

He was hoping Jiang Zhan would back off. But the other party answered immediately, “Got it. I’ll be there at 6:30 sharp.”

“…Alright then,” the manager said.

After hanging up, Jiang Zhan turned to relay the info to Wei Xiaochi. “Can you wake up by 6:30?”

“I can,” Wei Xiaochi nodded. Then added with concern, “Is it far? How long does it take to get there?”

“It’s the same place I took you swimming last time,” Jiang Zhan replied.

So, not too far.

Wei Xiaochi felt reassured.

⸻

The next morning, Wei Xiaochi woke up at 5 a.m. without making a sound.

Wei Zimo was still snoring away on the top bunk, his blanket twisted like a lump of dried vegetables. Wei Xiaochi shook out the thin summer quilt and gently laid it over his little brother’s belly.

Then he crept out of the room in the dark to wash up in the bathroom.

The upscale club they were headed to wasn’t super far, but not nearby either. About a 40-minute subway ride with a transfer.

Jiang Zhan said he’d pick him up at 6 a.m.—riding his motorcycle, it’d take about half an hour to get there.

Since Fang Yuan was a light sleeper, Wei Xiaochi was extra cautious, tiptoeing into the kitchen to turn on the light. He filled a pot halfway with water and switched on the gas stove.

From the fridge, he grabbed a few eggs, then measured out three bowls of flour, mixing the eggs and water into a smooth batter. He went on to fry over twenty thin egg pancakes.

Time was running short, so he quickly fried two sausages and some bacon, then wrapped them up inside the pancakes.

The congee was almost done. He turned off the heat and poured it into a stainless steel thermal food jar.

Just as he finished everything, Fang Yuan, awakened by the noise, walked out of the bedroom. Seeing the kitchen light on, she came over.

“Why are you cooking so early?” she asked groggily, rubbing her temples when she saw Wei Xiaochi holding the food jar. “Going out in a bit?”

Wei Xiaochi shifted awkwardly. “Mm,” he hummed, “I made egg pancakes. There’s congee in the pot too.”

Fang Yuan glanced at the living room clock—it was almost six. With breakfast already made, she didn’t have to get up early for the twins. Perfect chance for a little more sleep.

“Be careful on the way,” she mumbled while yawning, “And don’t forget to balance study and rest.”

With that, she turned and went back to bed.

⸻

Jiang Zhan was right on the dot. At exactly six o’clock, he called Wei Xiaochi to come downstairs.

Wei Xiaochi had been ready for a while. Carrying his stainless steel lunchbox and wearing his backpack, he stepped out the door.

The alpha was dressed in a blue-and-white motorcycle T-shirt. The fitted cut outlined his broad shoulders and back, one leg resting casually on the ground. With a sleek black helmet on his head, he drew curious stares from the elderly out for their morning exercise.

“Have you eaten?” Wei Xiaochi jogged over, slightly out of breath.

“Nope.”

“I brought breakfast—rice porridge, egg pancakes, and pickles.”

Jiang Zhan took the lunchbox from him and shoved a helmet into his arms. “Put this on.”

Wei Xiaochi hurriedly slipped the helmet onto his head and climbed onto the back of the motorcycle. “I’ll hold this.”

Jiang Zhan handed the lunchbox back to him.

Wei Xiaochi clutched it and said, “Let’s eat when we get there—if we’ve got time.”

Jiang Zhan gave a quiet “mm.” “Hold on tight.”

“I’m holding on.”

The moment the words left his mouth, the motorcycle rolled forward smoothly.

Once they got past the bumpy roads, the bike sped up. Wei Xiaochi, afraid of being thrown off, grabbed onto Jiang Zhan with one hand and held on for dear life.

There wasn’t much traffic this early in the morning. The bike zipped through the streets, arriving at the high-end club. When Wei Xiaochi got off, his calves were a little weak.

Good thing Jiang Zhan had skills behind the handlebars—they made it right before 6:30.

—

Seeing Jiang Zhan actually show up, Fang Ming’an was a little surprised. He didn’t expect the young master to actually wake up this early.

Fang Ming’an casually gave Wei Xiaochi a once-over, his gaze pausing briefly on the lunchbox in his hand.

“Haven’t eaten yet?” Fang Ming’an said with a friendly smile. “Go ahead and eat first. Gotta have energy to work. We’re in a hurry, but not that much of a hurry.”

That was exactly what Jiang Zhan had planned. He turned to Wei Xiaochi. “Want to eat?”

In unfamiliar settings, Wei Xiaochi always got a little nervous. Everyone was looking at him, so he just nodded quickly.

Fang Ming’an found a quiet spot for the two of them to eat and even kindly brought over a couple side dishes.

Breakfast was pretty abundant: porridge, egg pancakes, stir-fried veggies, and two kinds of pickles—dried radish and shredded seaweed, both bought by Fang Yuan.

Wei Xiaochi placed the two ham-and-bacon rolled pancakes into Jiang Zhan’s bowl.

Jiang Zhan glanced at the remaining egg pancakes and then gave one back to Wei Xiaochi.

Wei Xiaochi looked up at him, said nothing, picked up the roll with his chopsticks, and took a bite.

The pancakes had cooled a bit, but at least they didn’t have that greasy, cheap-oil taste from breakfast shops.

Jiang Zhan didn’t like eating hot food anyway. This was perfect. He devoured the pancake in three bites. “Not bad. Your mom made these?”

They tasted pretty average, but Jiang Zhan was fishing—trying to find out what Fang Yuan thought of him.

Wei Xiaochi shook his head. “No, I made them.”

Jiang Zhan’s head snapped up. “You? You can cook?”

“Just simple home cooking.” Wei Xiaochi didn’t think it was a big deal—he’d learned to cook back in middle school.

Jiang Zhan lowered his head and bit into another egg pancake. After a long pause, he casually said, “I can’t cook, but I can… wash dishes.”

Wei Xiaochi was sipping his porridge and almost choked. He turned away and coughed twice.

Once he calmed down, he gave a delayed “oh” and quietly went back to drinking.

Seeing how calm he was, Jiang Zhan stared at him in dissatisfaction for a few seconds, then took a savage bite out of his egg pancake—as if he were biting Wei Xiaochi instead.

Wei Xiaochi shrank his head lower and obediently focused on his porridge.

—

After breakfast, Fang Ming’an assigned someone to take them to clean the pool.

Jiang Zhan was allergic to rubber gloves. Last week, after cleaning, his shiny nails had gotten burned and rough from the cleaning agents, even peeling a bit.

Wei Xiaochi pulled out a pair of white work gloves from his backpack—the kind used on construction sites. Wei Dongjia wore them sometimes, and Fang Yuan had ordered a whole pack online.

He had washed a pair the night before and brought them for Jiang Zhan.

As he handed them over, Jiang Zhan lifted his hand arrogantly, waiting.

But Wei Xiaochi was too busy listening to the staff explain how to clean the pool and didn’t notice his gesture at all.

When the alpha just stood there not moving, Wei Xiaochi finally sensed something was off. He turned around—and sure enough, Jiang Zhan was holding his hand out, obviously waiting to be helped.

Wei Xiaochi: ……

Even four-year-old Wei Zimo could put on his own shoes.

Seriously, this guy was a little ancestor.

Sigh.

Left with no choice, Wei Xiaochi slipped the gloves onto Jiang Zhan’s hands and turned back to listen.

—

The three of them cleaned the pool together. Then they disinfected it, flushed it twice with clean water, and finally started refilling it.

The job took less than three hours, but the pay was better than a full day of handing out flyers.

Fang Ming’an gave both of them 300 yuan each. That meant Wei Xiaochi got 300 too—and it made him a little uneasy.

Fang Ming’an was very polite to them. Frankly, you could call it overly courteous.

Wei Xiaochi wasn’t dumb. He knew it was because of Jiang Zhan. Jiang Zhan was a member here, and last time they came, he’d used a black-gold membership card.

Suddenly, the 300 yuan in Wei Xiaochi’s hands felt kind of hot. He tugged at Jiang Zhan’s sleeve.

Jiang Zhan turned to look at him, and Wei Xiaochi lowered his gaze without saying anything.

Fang Ming’an was sharp—he could tell they had something to say in private. He came up with an excuse and slipped away.

“Wasn’t it 300 total? Why’d he include me too? He seems kinda… extra friendly,” Wei Xiaochi said, struggling to describe it.

He’d worked a lot of part-time jobs, but never had a boss be so respectful toward an employee.

Jiang Zhan didn’t care at all. “Who cares what he’s thinking? We’re just doing the job.”

Wei Xiaochi scratched his head, worried. “Still… it’s not good to owe people favors.”

Favors always come with a price. There’s no such thing as a free lunch.

Jiang Zhan shrugged. “It’s just 300 extra. What’s he gonna do—pull a magic trick with it? He’s just trying to make connections. At most, he wants to be on familiar terms. Not like he’s gonna make me pay it back with my life.”

“These kinds of people are all slick. They’re not dumb enough to pull some ‘I helped you so now you owe me’ kind of thing.”

Wei Xiaochi stared at Jiang Zhan, completely caught off guard by those words.

In his mind, Jiang Zhan was a rich kid with a bit of a temper—naive and carefree. Hearing something so shrewd and mature from him was seriously weird.

Jiang Zhan scowled. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

And just like that, he went right back to being the alpha in Wei Xiaochi’s mind—mouthy, petty, childish temper.

Wei Xiaochi felt a strange kind of emotion stir inside him. He lowered his head, as if hiding something. “No, wasn’t looking.”

Jiang Zhan huffed in annoyance.

—

Author’s Note:

Our puppy Jiang only turns into full-on silly sweet mode when he’s around Chi Chi. Around everyone else… he’s Schrödinger’s himbo 😂

There should be a second update today~