167: What a coincidence, you're here for noodles too!

Lin Que followed the navigation,

winding through the intricate alleyways.

Most of the streetlights here were old, casting a dim yellow light that stretched shadows long.

The air no longer smelled of car exhaust from the main road, replaced instead by a mix of soap powder and cooking oil—the scent of everyday life.

That was the smell of life.

Reaching the end of Willow Leaf Alley, Lin Que stopped.

Under a massive old locust tree stood a person.

Even from a distance, the figure looked slender.

Ye Xi wasn't wearing the gown that made her shine under the spotlight.

A simple white T-shirt tucked into light-colored jeans, with canvas shoes on her feet,

her hair tied up in a high ponytail, looking like a high school student just out of evening self-study.

Only her face was completely hidden by a large black mask,

her hat brim pulled low, her whole body shrinking into the tree's shadow, occasionally glancing warily toward the alley entrance, like a little thief who'd just done something bad and was ready to flee.

"Here!"

Seeing Lin Que approach, the eyes visible outside the mask instantly lit up, and the hands previously tucked in her sleeves waved vigorously twice.

Lin Que didn't speak, his gaze lingering on the retracted hands for a second.

Only when Lin Que got closer, under the streetlight's glow, could he see the pale skin peeking out from the edges of her mask,

with faint dark circles under her eyelids, impossible to hide.

Her hands were stuffed into her pockets as if they had nowhere else to go.

These hands were precious, but now they were covered in SpongeBob band-aids,

with a shiny callus on the outside of her little finger, the redness and swelling not yet gone.

Lin Que didn't point out this exhaustion, just raised an eyebrow and gave her a once-over:

"Nice outfit. People might think you're a spy on a mission, or is there some special task?"

"Shh—!"

Ye Xi quickly pulled down her mask, revealing a fair but somewhat tired face.

She playfully stuck out her tongue and lowered her voice:

"What spy? This is tactical camouflage!

You have no idea how many street photographers are around here. If I get caught slurping noodles at a street stall, my Sister Yang could rush over from home and nag me to death."

"My only mission right now is to fill my stomach!

You have no idea, those boiled chicken breasts almost did me in."

As she spoke, she naturally grabbed Lin Que's sleeve and dragged him deeper into the alley:

"Hurry up, hurry up! I snuck out behind my Sister Yang's back—don't let her catch us!"

The two of them squeezed side by side into a narrow alley only wide enough for two people.

After just a few steps, a rich, overpowering aroma hit them.

It was the scent of chili oil sizzling in hot bone broth, mixed with the wheaty smell of pickled vegetables and flour, making one's mouth water.

A tiny shop appeared before them.

The sign was a soot-blackened wooden board with a few characters scrawled in red paint:

"Liu's Authentic Luhe Pig Skin Noodles."

The shop only had about five or six tables.

At the moment, they were packed, with the slurping sounds of noodle-eating rising and falling, filled with the lively atmosphere of everyday life.

"Uncle Liu! Any seats left?"

Ye Xi called out familiarly as soon as she entered.

The bald boss in front of a large iron wok, fishing out noodles, jolted, his long chopsticks flicking a beautiful spray of water in the air.

Squinting through the rising steam, his oily face instantly broke into a wide smile, shouting in authentic Nanjing dialect:

"Goodness! Isn't this Little Ye Zi! Haven't seen you in months. I thought you'd gotten famous and forgotten about Uncle Liu's little place!"

"How could I!"

Ye Xi laughed, taking off her hat, not minding the slightly greasy tables and chairs, and directly sat in an empty corner spot:

"I dreamed of your chili oil even when I was abroad. I just got back and brought a friend over."

"Friend?"

Old Liu paused with his strainer,

his experienced little eyes darting over to Lin Que, who was following behind Ye Xi.

That glance was meaningful.

Lin Que was familiar with that look—he'd seen it in his own mother's eyes a few months ago.

"The usual?"

Old Liu slung a towel over his shoulder, gesturing toward Lin Que with his chin, his voice booming:

"Two bowls?"

Ye Xi's cheeks flushed slightly, whether from the steam or something else.

She didn't explain, just quickly pulled two pairs of chopsticks from the holder and mumbled in agreement:

"Yes! Two bowls! Both with the works! Extra chili oil! This one... can you go light on the noodles and add more pig skin?"

"Got it! Coming right up!"

Old Liu chuckled, turning back to work, his back radiating a cheerful, knowing air.

In the corner, Lin Que pulled out a wobbly round stool and sat down.

Ye Xi skillfully picked up the teapot on the table, rinsing the chopsticks and bowls with scalding tea,

her movements fluid, without any of the usual delicate air of someone who never lifts a finger.

"Here."

She handed the rinsed chopsticks to Lin Que, her eyes sparkling:

"The place might be a bit shabby, but the taste is absolutely the best in Nanjing.

You'll see when the noodles come—the pig skin soaks up the broth, and with one bite... mmm."

Lin Que took the chopsticks, looking at this girl whose eyes lit up for food,

finding it hard to connect her with the pianist in a haute couture gown, playing Rachmaninoff with a cold elegance in the Golden Hall.

But at this moment, she was more vibrant.

"By the way, that competition of yours is insane."

During the wait, Ye Xi rested her chin on her hands, leaning on the slightly sticky table, looking at Lin Que with sympathy:

"Eight hours! Your butt must be flattened, right?

I used to think Sister Yang forcing me to practice five or six hours a day was the limit, but I didn't expect you scholars to be even harsher on yourselves."

"It's okay."

Lin Que smiled, unscrewing the vinegar bottle on the table and giving it a shake:

"It's mostly mental fatigue. By the end, I felt like I couldn't even recognize words anymore.

Compared to your fingers dancing across thousands of piano keys, we just burn a few brain cells."

"Yeah, right."

Ye Xi rested her chin on the back of her hand, her voice tinged with a small complaint:

"Brain cells can regenerate. If my fingers get ruined, that's real pain."

Ye Xi glanced at the band-aids on her hands, then sighed again, resting her chin on her hand:

"But seriously, sometimes I envy you guys. Even though it's tiring, at least what you write is your own.

Not like me, always playing other people's pieces, even the emotions have to follow the score."

"Then play your own."

Lin Que looked at her, his tone calm but firm.

"Your hands are yours. What you want to play is up to you."

Ye Xi paused mid-chew on the pig skin.

She looked at Lin Que through the rising steam, a flicker of light in her eyes that quickly dimmed.

She poked the poached egg at the bottom of her bowl with her chopsticks, her voice muffled:

"It's not that easy, Lin Que. Sometimes I really want..."

Before she could finish, Old Liu's booming voice cut through like thunder, interrupting her unspoken desire.

"Noodles are here—! Two bowls of the works! Careful, they're hot!"

Two bowls larger than washbasins thudded onto the table.

Red chili oil covered the surface, with golden crispy pig skin, tender pork liver, and rosy sausages piled high, steaming and fragrant.

Ye Xi's eyes instantly glazed over, the earlier melancholy tossed to the winds.

"Let's eat! I'm starving!"

She eagerly picked up her chopsticks, not caring about appearances,

shoveling a big mouthful of noodles, her cheeks puffed out like a hamster storing food.

Lin Que smiled and took a bite too.

It was indeed good.

The chili oil was fragrant without being harsh, the pig skin soaked in broth, bursting in the mouth with satisfaction.

"By the way, when you go to Europe..."

Lin Que had just started speaking, his words unfinished,

"Tap, tap"

when the sound of hard-soled high heels stopping outside the door was heard.

Ye Xi, about to put a piece of pig skin in her mouth, froze at the sound, her chopsticks suspended mid-air, her face instantly pale.

The next second, the light at the entrance was blocked.

"Xi Xi!"

The pig skin Ye Xi had just picked up fell back into her bowl.

Lin Que set down his chopsticks and slowly turned around.

At the shop entrance stood a woman in professional attire, holding a Hermès Birkin bag.

She looked at Ye Xi, her mouth smeared with red oil, then at Lin Que sitting opposite,

her expression shifting from surprise to a stern, caught-in-the-act look.

Ye Xi closed her eyes in despair,

then put on a smile and slowly turned around.

"Oh! Elder... Sister Yang, what a coincidence, you're here for noodles too?"