Guan Xia waited for a moment before handing the small handful of lettuce and spinach she had picked out to the man.
The man deftly tossed them onto the scale, grabbed a plastic bag, and remarked casually, "Little sister, you’re buying so little—this wouldn’t even fill a rabbit halfway."
Even as he spoke, he didn’t pause in weighing the vegetables and stuffing them into the bag. "One-twenty, just give me one yuan."
The price was so low Guan Xia almost felt embarrassed. She quickly scanned the payment code.
The next customer in line, an elderly woman, chuckled and said, "You’re always worrying about other people’s business. Who cares how much she eats? Young girls these days are all about staying slim. They eat like birds and go on these ‘light fasting’ diets. My granddaughter’s the same—just fifteen or sixteen, but after eating hotpot with her friends, she’ll starve herself the next day, then force down a bowl of boiled greens with barely any salt. It ruins my appetite just watching her."
Instead of handing the bag directly to Guan Xia, the man grabbed two more handfuls of vegetables and stuffed them in before passing it over. "You’re eating way too little. Here, take these—on the house. Don’t pay me. I’m not short on cash."
It was the first time Guan Xia had encountered such an enthusiastic vegetable seller. She hesitated, but the man shoved the bag into her hands and turned to weigh the old woman’s purchases, chatting all the while.
"Wasn’t trying to meddle, just couldn’t help saying something when I saw it," he said cheerfully. "Health is what matters most. At the very least, if you’re well-fed, you’ll have the strength to run if trouble comes knocking. Just last night, I saw this news story—can’t remember which city—but some coward decided to take revenge on society by driving onto the sidewalk and mowing people down. Not saying it’ll happen, but you never know when you’ll run into a maniac. If you’re starving, you won’t even have the energy to escape."
He glanced back at Guan Xia. "Little sister, I’m not trying to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong. Just think you young girls ought to stay healthy. Who cares what others think? A little extra weight is a blessing, and you’re not even heavy. Eat more when you can."
With that, he swiftly packed up the old woman’s order and handed it over. "Eleven-forty, just give me eleven."
The old woman paid with a smile, then asked before leaving, "You’ll be back tomorrow morning, right? My son and daughter-in-law have been working late shifts lately, and they’ve finished all the dumplings and wontons I made. I want to make more tomorrow—you’d better come."
The man’s expression turned hesitant. "Well… I’ve been coming to your neighborhood a lot lately, and folks from other areas in the group chat aren’t too happy. They’re insisting I switch locations tomorrow."
Before the old woman could respond, the other customers erupted in protest.
"Why bother with them? They’re the ones who live farther away!"
"Exactly! Not just far, but cheap too. Every time you go there, you end up with leftovers. Not like here, where you can drop off the extras at your wife’s place during lunch."
"If you don’t sell here tomorrow, won’t you be late bringing your wife lunch? Watch out, or she’ll make you sleep on the couch."
"If you skip tomorrow, I’ll go straight to the market and tell your wife you got bullied by the ladies from other neighborhoods in the group chat."
As the elderly women’s teasing grew increasingly outrageous, the man surrendered. "Alright, alright! I’ll come tomorrow. I’ll be here. Just don’t go spreading nonsense to my wife, okay? Our kid’s been sick, and she’s already stressed."
The crowd finally settled down. One woman nodded sympathetically. "No wonder you brought so little today. Kid’s sick, huh? So you won’t be here this afternoon?"
The man, now working at lightning speed as if he had four arms, replied without missing a beat. "Yep. Once I sell out, I’m heading off to bring my wife lunch. What’s the point of living if you can’t enjoy a hot meal? Can’t let her go hungry."
"I’ll post in the group," the old woman who’d just paid said, pulling out her phone. "Tell them to come early so you can finish up and leave sooner."
Guan Xia, still holding her bag, had planned to buy more since she was hosting a housewarming tomorrow evening and the veggies would keep. But hearing the man would return in the morning, she squeezed out of the crowd and headed to the supermarket for the rest of her hotpot ingredients.
By the time she returned with her haul, the tricycle at the neighborhood entrance was gone—clearly sold out and packed up.
Back home, she quickly cooked up a pot of spicy broth and set it on the table before calling Pang Le to discuss the housewarming.
Pang Le sounded like she was also eating, her words slightly muffled. "Tomorrow night? Why so late? We won’t have much time before everyone has to leave."
Guan Xia turned on speakerphone and poured herself a glass of water. "You’re the boss—you can leave whenever. But Lawyer Shi and Lawyer Dong have work."
Pang Le snorted. "You really don’t get it, do you? They’re lawyers. Half the time, they’re running around outside the office anyway. If they’re busy, they’ll just make up an excuse to slip out."
Guan Xia sat back down. "So we can switch to tomorrow afternoon? Even better. More time to eat and chat—gives you and Lawyer Shi more chances to bond."
"Gee, thanks," Pang Le deadpanned before scoffing. "Thank goodness you make a living as a writer. If you had an office job, you’d be the type who never slacks off—work yourself to death out of sheer diligence."
Guan Xia rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. Back before she transmigrated, she’d been a master at looking busy while doing nothing. Even when she finished tasks in half the time, she’d stretch them out, pretending to be swamped. If she ran out of ways to stall, she’d pull up a spreadsheet and play tic-tac-toe with her slacking buddies—never once caught, and still landed Employee of the Year.
Pang Le, hearing no rebuttal, laughed and changed the subject. "Speaking of, has Xu Nian contacted you lately?"
Guan Xia slurped up a wide noodle, answering through a full mouth. "Nope. Why? You hear something?"
Pang Le’s voice dropped to a whisper. "Just a rumor, but… the case Xu Nian’s handling? Another serial killer."
Guan Xia nearly choked. She thumped her chest and swallowed hard. "Another one? And another dismemberment?"
She thought back to the fisherman she’d seen that day and muttered, "Never judge by appearances. Would’ve never guessed just looking at him."
After a pause, she asked Pang Le, "Hey, didn’t you train in martial arts since childhood? In books and shows, martial artists can always sense when someone’s got blood on their hands. Didn’t you pick up anything?"
Pang Le let out a cold laugh. "The guy was wrapped up tighter than a mummy at midnight. Couldn’t even see his eyes—how was I supposed to tell?"
Guan Xia perked up. "Wait, so if you could see his eyes, you actually could’ve sensed something?"
Pang Le hesitated before speaking, "Not exactly. It's just... after playing so many matches, you become more sensitive to malice and hostility. Of course, if there’s no malice or hostility, I wouldn’t notice anything."
Guan Xia was about to ask why she hadn’t sensed anything the night they encountered the killer at the supermarket, but hearing Pang Le’s last sentence, she swallowed the question.
Fishing a meatball from the bottom of her bowl and popping it into her mouth, Guan Xia circled back to their earlier topic. "Aside from it being another serial murder case, have you heard anything else about Xu Nian’s current investigation? Did the license plate number I gave them help?"
"No idea," Pang Le guessed. "But it probably did. My ex mentioned the entire Pingjiang District police force has been mobilized. They wouldn’t deploy so many people without a lead, right?"
Pang Le also speculated based on budget considerations. Whether her logic held water, Guan Xia couldn’t say, but after thinking it over, it did seem plausible.
They chatted while finishing lunch, and Pang Le hung up after saying she’d ask Lawyer Shi.
Before Guan Xia could finish washing the dishes, the phone rang again.
As soon as she answered, Pang Le said, "Shi Guangbo and Dong Yuncheng both agreed. They’ll swing by the law firm tomorrow morning and sneak out around 11 to meet at your place. Dong Yuncheng also asked if you’re cooking yourself. If so, he’ll come early to help. He can cook—can’t guarantee the taste, but he swears it won’t kill anyone."
Guan Xia laughed. "I prefer eating over cooking. I’ll draft a menu later—let me know if anyone has allergies. I’ll book a housekeeper for tomorrow afternoon. You guys just need to show up and enjoy."
"Sounds perfect," Pang Le chuckled. "Though it’s a shame we won’t get to try Dong Yuncheng’s cooking. Lawyer Shi says he’s really good."
"Next time, then," Guan Xia replied casually. After chatting a bit longer, she hung up and started working on the menu.
She thought it’d be quick, but after tweaking it based on Pang Le’s feedback, it took her the entire afternoon to finalize.
Once Pang Le confirmed with an "OK," Guan Xia reheated the leftover spicy hotpot from lunch for dinner, then took the kitchen waste downstairs.
To her surprise, after tossing the trash, she spotted a little girl sitting alone on the lawn, digging in the dirt with a plastic shovel.
Guan Xia looked closer and recognized her—she was the same girl who’d been arguing with the bald man at Building 7 that morning.
It was already dark, and a seven- or eight-year-old playing alone in the complex made Guan Xia uneasy. But seeing the elderly residents strolling around, she figured it was probably fine. After a brief hesitation, she headed back upstairs.
Though their neighborhood felt safe, the park across the street drew enough foot traffic that outsiders might cut through. Just in case, Guan Xia moved her drama-watching session to the study.
Between episodes, she kept glancing out the window. Only when the little girl finally packed up her shovel and walked toward Building 7 did Guan Xia relax, returning to the living room to continue her show.
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