Agreed to Just Once - Chapter 9: Mutual Assistance
Chapter 9: Mutual Assistance
After finishing the hotpot meal, they hit the evening rush hour on a weekday. Car horns blared intermittently, and the taxi remained stuck on the road for minutes without moving an inch.
Jiang Yinian glanced out the window. They were just over a kilometer from their residential compound, and a towering office building at the nearby intersection displayed a massive supermarket promotion poster.
Haven’t been to the supermarket in ages.
Mm.
The two got out of the taxi early and walked along the street to the supermarket.
The supermarket was at its peak business hours too. Office workers finishing their shifts and students after school all seemed to have chosen this time to come. The food sampling queues stretched long in every aisle.
Having already eaten his fill, Jiang Yinian had zero interest in samples. He pushed the shopping cart past these queues without stopping.
He Wenshuo had much more to attend to, being primarily responsible for selecting items.
Some yogurt, some plain milk, some toast, some ham, some crackers… In no time, one-third of the shopping cart was filled.
Jiang Yinian looked down at the cart – ample reserves always brought a sense of security – then scanned the supermarket. What else are we missing?
He Wenshuo: Fruit.
Jiang Yinian nodded: Alright.
When buying fruit, they never looked at prices, simply choosing whatever appeared freshest. Several bags of fruit made the shopping cart even fuller.
An hour and a half later, the two returned home laden with four large shopping bags.
Grandma Jiang opened the door for them, no longer surprised by their wholesale-style supermarket runs. She only asked concernedly, Have you eaten outside? If not, I can make you something.
Mm.
We’ve eaten, Grandma.
Satisfied they’d had dinner, Grandma Jiang nodded. She used to keep meals for them, but eventually realized these two grown kids could handle their own meals outside. Now unless pre-arranged, she didn’t specially save food for them.
Seeing the shopping bags filled entirely with food, Grandma Jiang habitually helped with the organizing.
Having been out all afternoon and completed a full supermarket round, Jiang Yinian watched He Wenshuo and his grandmother working in seamless coordination and felt too lazy to intervene.
The hotpot smell had clung to him since leaving the restaurant, so he turned to fetch clean clothes: I’m going to shower first.
Go ahead.
He Wenshuo and Grandma Jiang sorted everything together – refrigerating what needed chilling, shelving what belonged in cabinets. Finally, a separate bag of snacks remained, which He Wenshuo carried into Jiang Yinian’s room.
Jiang Yinian’s room wasn’t particularly large, with only two designated snack storage areas: a movable snack cart and the second drawer of his desk.
He Wenshuo distributed the snacks evenly between these two spots, leaving two packs of crackers in the shopping bag.
He naturally reached for Jiang Yinian’s backpack hanging behind the door – the crackers could serve as tomorrow’s school break snacks.
But as he unzipped the bag, his eyes caught a pinkish-white envelope corner peeking from between the notebook pages inside.
He instinctively pulled out the notebook, opening it to find the pinkish-white envelope lying quietly between the pages.
What’s this.
He Wenshuo picked up the envelope, examining both sides. Only the front bore Jiang Yinian’s name.
Obviously, this was something someone had given to Jiang Yinian, but the envelope was still sealed shut—he hadn’t opened it yet.
He Wenshuo stood behind the door, glancing toward the living room from afar. Jiang Yinian was still showering and hadn’t come out yet.
I’ll ask him when he comes out later, He Wenshuo thought.
He pinched the corner of the envelope and slowly tucked it back into the backpack. Once he asked about it later, he’d know what was going on. Maybe it was just another thank-you letter from the class or a club.
Most likely.
Carrying the empty bag, he left Jiang Yinian’s room and sat on the sofa, staring blankly at the fruit in the bowl.
But would the class or a club use this kind of envelope?
And as for thank-you letters—they were more likely to find excuses to recruit people as unpaid labor.
Jiang Yinian’s shower seemed unusually long today.
He Wenshuo got up from the sofa, pacing restlessly until he found himself back in Jiang Yinian’s room. He stood in front of the backpack behind the door for two minutes before pulling out the pink-and-white envelope again.
This letter was for Jiang Yinian.
But Jiang Yinian had never kept anything from him before.
It was just a letter.
Jiang Yinian hadn’t even looked at it, which meant it wasn’t important.
He was just a little curious—what kind of letter was it, anyway?
He Wenshuo stood there, frowning in indecision as he held the thin envelope.
When Jiang Yinian came out of the shower, he found the living room empty. Grandma had probably returned to her room, and as for He Wenshuo, he was most likely in his own room.
Jiang Yinian dried his wet hair with a towel and headed straight back to his room.
As soon as he pushed the door open, he saw He Wenshuo sitting stiffly at the desk, motionless, his back looking inexplicably lonely.
Jiang Yinian closed the door, puzzled. What’s wrong with you?
He Wenshuo turned slowly in his chair, clutching a crumpled piece of paper in his hand, his eyes full of unhappiness. I was putting snacks in your backpack earlier and saw this inside.
He didn’t regret opening the letter, because it turned out to be a love letter.
When he first read the contents, alarm bells had gone off uncontrollably in his head, only quieting down when Jiang Yinian walked in.
He Wenshuo looked at Jiang Yinian’s fair, delicate face and felt as if he’d just woken from a dream.
How could he have almost forgotten? Jiang Yinian had always been more popular than him, and far more people liked Jiang Yinian than liked him.
Jiang Yinian stared at the crumpled letter in He Wenshuo’s hand. I was planning to return that to someone. I haven’t even read what it says.
He Wenshuo said gravely, I read it.
Not only had he read it, but he’d read it twice. By now, he could almost recite the contents from memory.
He said you look really good when you’re paying attention in class, that you’re very kind-hearted, that you often feed the tabby cat at school, and that you like to listen to music with headphones during the long break. He even wanted to ask whose songs you like.
Jiang Yinian:
Just as he’d expected. The last letter had said pretty much the same things—different packaging, same contents.
This person is so annoying, He Wenshuo grumbled angrily. In his agitation, he accidentally poked a hole in the letter with his finger. He must be sneaking around observing you every day.
Maybe it’s not that serious.
Jiang Yinian thought that since they were in the same class, he wasn’t exactly hiding his daily activities—everyone in class could see what he was doing.
He glanced again at the letter He Wenshuo was clutching. It was ruined; clearly, there was no way to return it now.
He Wenshuo fixed his dark eyes intently on Jiang Yinian and asked urgently, You don’t like him, right?
Jiang Yinian: No.
That’s good. He Wenshuo felt slightly relieved. This time, it was his turn to solemnly advise Jiang Yinian: Like you said, if you don’t like someone, you have to firmly reject them so they completely give up.
Jiang Yinian: I know.
In this regard, he considered himself much more reliable than He Wenshuo, who would only come up with terrible ideas and ask for his help.
He Wenshuo crumpled the letter into a ball again and decisively threw it into the trash. If Jiang Yinian didn’t like the person, then it was useless—just a piece of scrap paper, not worth reading anymore.
That topic was finished.
Jiang Yinian continued drying his hair for a moment, then looked at He Wenshuo, whose expression still hadn’t relaxed. Aren’t you going home to sleep?
He Wenshuo sighed heavily. How could I possibly sleep after this?
Jiang Yinian:
He Wenshuo returned home under the stars and moonlight, tossing and turning in bed.
This was the first time he had ever seen a love letter written to Jiang Yinian.
Jiang Yinian didn’t even seem surprised when he realized it was a love letter.
Maybe he had received them before, which was why he wasn’t shocked.
But Jiang Yinian had never mentioned this to him before.
He Wenshuo opened his eyes in the darkness, fished his phone from beside his pillow, and sent a message to Jiang Yinian.
He Wenshuo: I can’t sleep.
He Wenshuo: You said you were planning to return the love letter, so you know who wrote it to you, right?
He Wenshuo: Does he often write to you?
He Wenshuo: How are you going to reject him? When are you going to do it? Are you going to reject him tomorrow?
He Wenshuo: Do you need my help? I’m free anytime.
He Wenshuo: Let’s have breakfast together tomorrow.
The next morning.
After waking up, Jiang Yinian stared silently at the string of unread messages from He Wenshuo in the chat window.
The last message was sent at three in the morning.
He checked the current time displayed in the top left corner of his phone screen.
Let’s have breakfast together? At this hour, with no sign of him, even if he had an 8 a.m. class, he’d probably be late.
Fortunately, He Wenshuo didn’t have an 8 a.m. class today—he was the one who did.
Jiang Yinian sent a brief reply, grabbed his backpack and textbooks, and headed out. It wasn’t until he was seated in his 8 a.m. classroom that he saw He Wenshuo had sent another message.
He Wenshuo: I overslept, just woke up.
Jiang Yinian: Figured.
He Wenshuo:
Jiang Yinian: No 8 a.m. class? Go back to sleep then.
He Wenshuo: Did you eat breakfast?
Close to ten o’clock, He Wenshuo arrived at the classroom distractedly and took a seat in an area with the most empty spots.
During the class break, the hallway was bustling with students.
Within minutes, groups of students filed in for the next class, and the seats around him quickly filled with familiar classmates.
Guo Jian sat directly in front of He Wenshuo, turning his head to speak to him: You’re here so early today.
There’s a saying that holds true—the farther you live, the less likely you are to be late. All the boarding students arrived just two or three minutes before class started, yet He Wenshuo, who didn’t board at school, always showed up early every time.
Yeah.
He Wenshuo flipped through his textbook a couple of times, not really in the mood to talk.
Guo Jian exchanged glances with the students around him; he had a mission to accomplish and continued bothering He Wenshuo: Hey, hey, let me ask you something. Have you heard about the unwritten rule among us brothers?
He Wenshuo: What?
Guo Jian gestured frantically with his eyes: Among us guys, whoever gets into a relationship first has to treat everyone to a meal to celebrate. Look at you
He Wenshuo corrected him meticulously: I’m not the first one.
Tao Hao from the back row perked up his ears and chimed in: You might not be the first, but the first one already treated us. Now it’s your turn.
He Wenshuo:
It wasn’t an exaggeration—these guys could eat like bottomless pits. With that kind of spare money, he could buy Jiang Yinian so many delicious treats instead.
Besides, he was in a bad mood today.
He Wenshuo said expressionlessly: We’ll talk about it another day.
Guo Jian and Tao Hao exchanged a knowing glance, both seeing the same conclusion in each other’s eyes: This guy was acting strange today.
Tao Hao stood up from the back row, drifting quietly closer to He Wenshuo, and casually remarked: Did you have a fight with your partner?
He Wenshuo immediately retorted: Nothing like that.
Guo Jian silently exchanged another look with Tao Hao: They must have fought. Only someone feeling guilty would rebut so quickly.
Guo Jian adopted the tone of someone with experience: It’s fine. Arguments are normal in relationships—it’s called adjusting to each other. If you never argue at all, that’s when things won’t last.
He Wenshuo disagreed: Stop talking nonsense. He and Jiang Yinian never argued, okay? Not once, from the past till now.
Guo Jian: Don’t get worked up. We’re not making fun of you.
Tao Hao chimed in cheerfully: Yeah, did you hear? That girl who was chasing you before was still asking around the other day if you’d broken up.
He Wenshuo grew even more troubled. If he couldn’t handle such situations well himself, Jiang Yinian must be the same.
And Jiang Yinian was especially soft-hearted.
What if the other person pitifully took advantage of his kindness
He Wenshuo couldn’t be bothered with Guo Jian anymore and didn’t want to hear their wild speculations. He took out his phone to message Jiang Yinian.
He Wenshuo: Still in class?
Jiang Yinian: Yeah, classes all morning.
He Wenshuo: I don’t feel like listening in class today.
Jiang Yinian: Then sleep.
He Wenshuo: Can’t fall asleep.
Jiang Yinian: ?
He Wenshuo: I’m thinking about how to help you make the person writing letters give up.
Jiang Yinian: Did you come up with anything?
He Wenshuo: You already pretended to be my partner for me. How about I help you too—go to your school and pretend to be your partner?
Jiang Yinian:
Jiang Yinian: As if you could fit into those little dresses you bought.
He Wenshuo:
After class ended, He Wenshuo unusually went back to his own home at noon.
Jiang Yinian had classes in the afternoon and didn’t want to bike back and forth under the scorching sun at noon, so she would have lunch at school and then spend her break in the library.
The dress she had washed last time was still hanging on the balcony, forgotten and left to dry.
He Wenshuo took the dress down and, passing by the mirror, held it up against himself.
Utterly ridiculous.
The exact same dress looked like it belonged on a store mannequin when Jiang Yinian wore it, but when he held it against himself, it just looked absurd.
This wouldn’t do.
He Wenshuo put the dress down. He wanted to help, not make a fool of himself.