14. The Young Man with Acne

Back in her room, Tang Yiyi worriedly wondered: if Xu Bin passed the preliminary selection, he would have to take leave to practice singing—how would he find time to study for the exams? Master would probably be furious by then. Sigh... She shook her head, deciding to deal with it when the time came.

She calmed herself, took out Xu Mingtang’s prescriptions, and continued comparing and studying them. Once she had finished her notes, she carefully put them away. Turning on her computer, she searched for detailed information about next year’s combined traditional and Western medicine assistant physician and traditional Chinese pharmacist qualification exams. She then downloaded several sets of real exam questions for Xu Bin, planning to give them to him tomorrow so he could squeeze in practice whenever possible.

When everything was done, Tang Yiyi stretched her neck, only to realize it was already past ten o’clock—and her stomach rumbled in protest.

“So hungry.” Reflexively she reached into her bag for instant noodles, only to remember she was no longer in her school dormitory—she had already graduated. She rubbed her growling stomach, wondering what she could find to tide herself over for the night.

Suddenly, she recalled Xiao Xie’s invitation that afternoon; those pig’s trotters seemed to mock her—how could she have forgotten them? Instantly, her mouth watered. She tapped her forehead—so foolish!

She quietly slipped out of her room and tiptoed downstairs. Passing the living room, she saw that her master and the others had already retired for the night. She reached the ground floor, slipped out through the side door, and only then realized she didn’t have a key. She found a slender stick to wedge the door slightly ajar, then went to the table closest to the door outside Qin’s Noodle House and sat down.

“Big sis, you’re here!” Xiao Xie stood up from a table and came over. “Ready for a bowl of pig’s trotter noodles tonight? A big bowl?”

“A small bowl will do.” Though famished, she wasn’t quite up to a large serving.

Xiao Xie nodded knowingly. “Got it.” Then, lowering his voice, “Less noodles, more meat.” With that, he grinned and dashed into the kitchen.

Tang Yiyi glanced around the shop—there were only four or five customers. Qin Baike was still seated at the table by the kitchen door, a pile of receipts spread before him, one hand supporting his forehead while the other tapped at a calculator.

The pimply boy sat opposite him, leaning against the wall, carving a block of wood with a small knife. He had already shaped a pair of long rabbit ears.

Hearing voices, he looked up; only when Xiao Xie cheerfully entered the kitchen did he shyly smile at Tang Yiyi in greeting before returning to his work.

Tang Yiyi called out to him, “Hey!” Unsure how to address him, she beckoned. Both the boy and Qin Baike looked up; she waved at the boy, saying, “Come here.”

He hesitated but stood up and came over. Qin Baike, without a word, lowered his head and continued with his calculations.

“You know my name now, right?” Tang Yiyi asked the big boy sitting across from her.

He nodded.

“But I still don’t know yours.”

“I’m... Liu Xin.”

She nodded, pointing to his face. “Your acne looks pretty severe. Haven’t you tried to treat it?”

“Oh.” Liu Xin touched his face. “Lots of people have it—doesn’t everyone?”

“Getting a couple here and there is normal, three or four at most. Yours is way beyond normal—tenfold more.” Tang Yiyi spread her hands to illustrate.

Liu Xin blinked and stayed silent.

“It’s mainly a shame because you have such regular features. It really affects your looks,” she continued.

He bit his lip and lowered his head with a shy smile.

“Let me check your pulse.”

He looked up, blinking in confusion.

“Your hand.” Tang Yiyi placed both hands on the table, ready and waiting.

Liu Xin hesitated but put his hand on the table, still holding his carving knife and block of wood.

Tang Yiyi gave a curious sound, took the piece of wood, and saw it really was a rabbit—chubby, with a silly, adorable expression, the lower half still roughly outlined.

“How cute,” she exclaimed in delight.

“Just practicing,” Liu Xin replied bashfully.

“Practicing?”

“I study art.”

“What year are you in?”

“Third year.”

She pointed at his clothes. “You designed these, didn’t you? The ‘Qin’s Noodle House’ characters on your shirt are your handwriting too.”

He laughed sheepishly.

“I do have a question.”

“Mm?”

“Why is ‘Qin’s Noodle House’ placed differently on everyone’s shirts? Yours is on the chest, Baike’s is at the back of his neck, and I haven’t found Xiao Xie’s yet.”

“No special reason, just for fun.”

Xiao Xie brought over a steaming bowl of noodles and set it before her. “No way I’m letting him write on my shirt! So old-fashioned.”

Tang Yiyi’s attention was immediately captured by the noodles—generous bowl, rich broth, a bed of chives beneath the noodles, and five or six plump, lychee-sized pig’s trotter pieces piled on top; two of them were clearly Xiao Xie’s special favor.

Her appetite surged. She turned to Liu Xin, “Let me eat first. I’ll check your pulse after.”