Agreed to Just Once - Chapter 11: Vivid Memory

Chapter 11: Vivid Memory

One ticket is better than none.

Whether he could attend didn’t matter, as long as Jiang Yinian could go.

He Wenshuo swiftly transferred the money to Tao Hao and soon received a screenshot confirming the successful payment.

He immediately shared the good news with Jiang Yinian: I managed to get a ticket for your favorite singer’s concert.

Jiang Yinian: Really?

Mnjok hadn’t held an offline concert in a long time, and unexpectedly chose their city for the venue. With such perfect timing and opportunity, he had also been staring at the ticket-booking app. The moment sales opened, tickets vanished instantly. He didn’t even have a chance to click a few times, let alone secure one.

He Wenshuo urged Tao Hao to send the ticket details and forwarded them to Jiang Yinian: Of course it’s real.

Jiang Yinian: Impressive.

He Wenshuo: You can go to the concert now.

After examining the ticket information, Jiang Yinian finally noticed something off: Only one ticket?

He Wenshuo: Just one. You should go and enjoy it.

Jiang Yinian: What about you?

He Wenshuo: I’ll go with you. Worst case, you listen from inside, and I’ll listen from outside.

Jiang Yinian: … That wouldn’t do. It sounded pitiful just thinking about it.

He closed the chat window and reopened the webpage to search for more information about concert tickets.

Early the next morning, a group of boys gathered in the hallway outside the classroom.

Tao Hao looked incredulous: Last night, we gave up gaming, movies, everything to help you snag that ticket, and this is what you treat us to for breakfast?

He Wenshuo held steamed buns and soy milk: It’s breakfast. Did you expect a feast?

He had waited in a long line just to get these steamed buns and soy milk. He even missed having breakfast with Jiang Yinian today—what a loss.

Guo Jian took an angry bite of his bun: You… you miser! At least you could’ve gotten us deluxe jianbing guozi.

He didn’t even blink when buying such expensive concert tickets, yet when it came to treating his friends, all he offered was steamed buns and soy milk.

He Wenshuo: Take it or leave it.

Tao Hao consoled himself while holding the bun: Forget it, forget it. Breakfast is just a bonus anyway. This month’s homework is all on him now.

Thinking of that, he instantly felt much better.

Guo Jian reluctantly accepted the bun and continued: But I don’t get it. With only one ticket, you and your partner still can’t go together, right?

Why can’t we go? He Wenshuo said. We’ll go however we can.

Guo Jian shook his head repeatedly. Love-struck fools were truly terrifying—they could make even a miser willingly throw money away: Alright, alright. We just don’t have the luck to attend concerts like you do.

Lin Nao, another group member who had scored a bun, joined the conversation: Don’t be so gloomy. Even though we can’t go to the concert, there’s a chance to watch a free movie now. Are you guys in?

What chance? What chance? Everyone perked up with interest.

Lin Nao swallowed his steamed bun and began explaining slowly: As you know, I’ve been working part-time at the mall cinema recently. Tomorrow there’s a big-spending customer who booked the entire theater – seems like he’s planning a surprise proposal. The client said the empty seats would make it too obvious, so he told us to bring friends for free to fill up the space. But after the movie ends, we need to act as the cheer squad – clapping and shouting slogans to create atmosphere.

Tao Hao was the first to raise his hand: I want them! Give me four tickets! I’ll bring my whole dorm to watch.

Guo Jian chimed in: Count me in too. Tell your big client not to worry – we’re perfect for this kind of thing. We don’t even need rehearsal to be atmosphere creators.

Lin Nao reassured them: There are enough for everyone. They had no one else to invite, so they gave all the tickets to me. Wait a moment, I’ll get them for you.

Awesome!

After class, everyone in the homework group received free movie tickets, including He Wenshuo, who got two tickets.

He examined the ticket information – the cinema was in the mall near their school, not far at all. It was an animated film with slight horror elements, which seemed decent enough. He could bring Jiang Yinian along to join the fun.

With Grandma Jiang about to go abroad, the spacious rectangular dining table in the living room had been temporarily converted into a dough-working station once again.

Neatly arranged in freezer containers were perfectly shaped wontons with generous fillings.

During these times, Jiang Yinian and He Wenshuo would always assist as helpers.

Before every long trip, Grandma Jiang would stock the refrigerator with supplies, especially preparing reserves of her popular fresh meat wontons for Jiang Yinian.

Jiang Yinian helped place the wontons his grandmother had made into containers: You’re only going for about a month. This should be enough for us.

He felt bad seeing his grandmother work so hard for a whole day before each trip. While he had a discerning palate, he didn’t want her to overexert herself.

Grandma Jiang worked while patiently instructing both of them: The fillings in each drawer are different. When you cook them later, make sure the water is boiling before adding the wontons. And be careful with the stove – turn the gas off properly and remember to ventilate the kitchen.

We know, we know. Jiang Yinian took over: Grandma, we’ve got it.

Although neither he nor He Wenshuo spent much time in the kitchen, they could handle simple tasks like cooking wontons or instant noodles.

Knowing and remembering are different things.

Grandma Jiang only became particularly talkative right before leaving. Looking at Jiang Yinian, she couldn’t help but think of her son and daughter-in-law overseas: Your parents aren’t kitchen-savvy either. Every time I visit them, their kitchen is dusty.

Jiang Yinian completely agreed: They rarely cook.

Grandma Jiang nodded: Your parents never cared much about food – they’re not picky eaters and will eat whatever’s available.

At this point, she looked at Jiang Yinian with some resignation: Unlike you.

Many years ago, she never would have imagined that her completely unpicky son and daughter-in-law would give her an extremely particular grandson.

Her own grandson had never been willing to compromise on food since childhood.

Jiang Yinian nodded: Yes, unlike me. That’s why I came back from abroad.

He still had some memories of his childhood experiences.

He remembered it was back when he was in elementary school. One day after school, his parents suddenly told him that due to some reason—work changes he couldn’t understand—he only grasped the last part: they were taking him abroad, to London, where he’d go to school and live from then on.

At first, he was thrilled. Having never been abroad, he imagined it would be full of novelty. After bidding farewell to his friends at home, he happily set off with his little backpack.

Then his days of hardship began.

Neither of his parents liked going into the kitchen, so they couldn’t whip up the kind of home-cooked meals Grandma could make. The food they bought outside every day was unappetizing and didn’t suit his taste, leaving him surviving on just milk and eggs.

Within just two or three months, he became as thin as a rail, listless every day, staggering when he walked.

His parents were both distressed and desperate. They took him to restaurants one after another, but it hardly helped. In the end, with no other options, they packed him up and sent him back from London to live with Grandma, only bringing him over to stay with them during winter and summer breaks.

Mentioning the past, Grandma Jiang still remembered it vividly. She looked at He Wenshuo and smiled, I still remember, during the time Niannian went abroad with your parents, little He would come trotting over on his short legs every day, knocking on the door to ask if you’d returned.

Back then, she was at home taking care of her husband, who had difficulty walking. The quiet, lonely house was livened up by this little short-legged kid’s persistent knocking.

He Wenshuo was busy stuffing boxes of wontons into the freezer. Grandma, my legs aren’t short anymore.

Back then, he was short, tanned, and none of the kids in the neighborhood wanted to play fairly with him—they always teased him. Only Jiang Yinian, who was the same age and height, played with him without bullying him.

So later, when he learned that Jiang Yinian had gone abroad with his parents, little He felt as if the sky had fallen. He waited every day, hoping for Jiang Yinian to return.

But after a month of waiting, Jiang Yinian still hadn’t come back. Life without his best friend was too hard to bear. He went to discuss with his parents whether their family could also move abroad to continue being neighbors with Jiang Yinian. If Jiang Yinian’s family had gone, why couldn’t theirs?

Of course, the suggestion was firmly rejected, and he got a spanking for it. His dad said he was asking for trouble because life was too comfortable for him.

But in reality, he wasn’t comfortable at all—he missed his best friend every single day.

Not only did he miss him daily, but he also came knocking on Jiang Yinian’s door without fail, rain or shine, just to check if Jiang Yinian had returned from abroad.

Finally, after another month or so, the day came when he knocked and found Jiang Yinian had returned.

The moment he saw Jiang Yinian, tears streamed down his face. Jiang Yinian had changed so much—his round, adorable face was gone, leaving only a thin, small figure in loose clothes, fragile like a porcelain doll that a gust of wind could shatter.

Later, hoping to help Jiang Yinian regain his former self, He Wenshuo brought over lots and lots of delicious treats from home for him. But even after Jiang Yinian finished all the food, his face never rounded out again.

To this day, all these years later, Jiang Yinian has never been able to put on weight again.

Grandma Jiang said, Yes, yes, you’ve grown up now. No longer the little turnip-head who always came knocking on the door for meals.

She remembered how He Wenshuo used to come over so often for meals that Father He and Mother He felt terribly embarrassed. They eventually insisted on giving her some money for food expenses, which she naturally refused—how could she accept money for a child’s small appetite? Later, Father He and Mother He started sending fresh meat and vegetables to her home every few days instead.

Time seemed to fly by. The two short-legged little turnip-heads had unknowingly shot up into the tall young men they were today. The only thing that hadn’t changed was their close relationship—they still often sat together at the same dining table for meals.

He Wenshuo sincerely promised, Grandma, don’t worry. I won’t eat your food for free. When you’re not home, I’ll make sure Niannian eats his fill at every meal.

Grandma Jiang smiled and said, Good, good.