June, in Shen City, summer had fully arrived.
Even the evening breeze carried a sticky heat, and the streetlights on both sides of the road flickered to life one by one.
The silver moon in the sky appeared dull and lifeless, hanging weakly against the deep blue canvas above.
It was already ten at night.
People, having shed the fatigue of the day, strolled leisurely under the lights in shorts and t-shirts, seeking a bit of cool relief.
On both sides of the narrow street were dazzling rows of night market stalls, their tempting aromas blending together into an invisible lure for the passing crowd.
Qu Yanning’s small stall was among them. He had arrived late, and all the good spots in the night market were already taken.
The only space left for him was a small patch at the very end of the street.
He grunted and puffed as he unloaded his gear from the back of his vehicle.
Once the grill was set up and the chilled ingredients taken out, he carefully lit the charcoal.
The night wind was hot and dry, but the heat from the charcoal was even more intense.
In no time, the black coals were burning brightly, glowing red.
Qu Yanning’s fair and delicate face was flushed from the heat, with fine beads of sweat shimmering on his forehead.
He wiped his sweat, exhaled softly, and carefully placed a wire mesh over the flames.
After brushing it with oil, he waited until sizzling droplets of fat began to dance on the surface, then brushed the marinated squid skewers with his homemade sauce and laid them over the fire.
The sauce was his own recipe—a big jar of it sat to the right of the grill.
You didn’t even need to lean in to catch the rich, savory aroma.
The thick red sauce coated the pale squid, quickly dyeing it an enticing crimson as it cooked.
Qu Yanning turned each skewer carefully.
The rendered fat dripped down onto the coals, igniting small bursts of sparks.
The savory scent of grilled squid drifted on the night breeze.
Though his stall was tucked at the very end of the street, where foot traffic was thinner than the front sections, the old saying held true—good wine needs no bush.
It wasn’t long after the squid hit the grill that customers started to appear, drawn by the smell.
A group of girls gathered around the stall, chattering excitedly.
One of them sniffed the air dramatically and grinned at her friends. “Told you! The smell was coming from here.”
She turned eagerly to Qu Yanning. “Boss, how much for the squid?”
“Ten yuan for five skewers,” Qu Yanning replied, wiping sweat from his brow. His cheeks, still slightly baby-faced, formed deep dimples as he smiled. “Wanna try some?”
The girls gasped softly and began stealing glances at him.
Qu Yanning wasn’t conventionally handsome, but something about his looks tugged at the instinctive affection of every woman present.
Fair skin, almond-shaped eyes, a straight nose, petal-like lips, and fluffy, slightly curled short hair—he looked like a doll in a display window.
The kind of doll that made you want to dress it up even prettier.
Even now, that doll-like boy was standing behind a smoky grill, wearing a dark apron, roasting squid.
The girls whispered among themselves before pushing the one who had led them there to speak again.
“We’ll take… fifty yuan’s worth,” the girl said, her voice much softer than before. A faint blush had bloomed on her face.
Her friends nudged her from behind, prompting an even deeper flush as she stammered, “A-also, um, boss…”
“Hmm?” Qu Yanning looked up curiously, his almond eyes widening slightly. The colorful lights of the street reflected in his gaze.
The girl grew even more flustered, but with her friends urging her on from behind, she blurted out, “C-can I add your WeChat? So we can come back next time!”
As soon as she said it, her face turned bright red.
Honestly, it wasn’t the first time someone had asked Qu Yanning for his WeChat.
He froze for a second, then quickly reacted, wiping his hands on his apron and pulling out his phone to show his contact QR code. “You can also place delivery orders through WeChat if you want.”
The girl added his contact and quickly paid, then ran off with the squid skewers, giggling and pushing at her friends.
Qu Yanning watched their lively figures disappear into the distance and smiled faintly.
Girls really were adorable creatures.
Once the first customers arrived, more and more followed.
Some started with just five skewers, only to return a few steps later, having eaten everything before even leaving the area.
A crowd quickly gathered around the small grill.
Qu Yanning was so busy he barely had time to breathe.
By the time the wave of customers finally subsided, he had a chance to wipe the sweat off his face.
It was his first day doing business, so he hadn’t brought much squid, worried he might not sell any.
Now, more than half of it was gone.
Only a few skewers remained in the foam cooler alongside some half-melted ice.
There were still people lingering by the stall, but Qu Yanning counted the remaining skewers and decided it wasn’t worth grilling the rest.
Better to pack up and head home.
Disappointed, the last few customers drifted off.
Except for one girl who remained nearby.
She had a golden retriever sitting quietly by her side.
Neither the girl nor the dog made a sound.
They had been there a while—Qu Yanning vaguely remembered noticing them earlier.
With her back to the streetlamp, her face was mostly hidden in shadow, except for a pair of eyes that stared straight at him without moving.
Not knowing what she wanted, Qu Yanning pretended not to notice her.
He packed the remaining squid into a plastic bag, planning to use it for seafood congee in the morning.
Still, the strange pair didn’t budge.
He hesitated, then asked, “Are you here for some squid?”
The girl blinked, revealing a pale cheek and a small black mole at the corner of her mouth.
She stared at him for a while, then shook her head slowly.
Qu Yanning looked puzzled but didn’t press the issue.
Maybe she was just waiting for someone.
He finished packing up his things, loaded them onto his vehicle, and picked up the bagged squid to go home.
“Your foundation works really well. Thanks.”
The quiet girl suddenly spoke.
Qu Yanning froze and turned to look, but the girl was already walking away with her golden retriever.
They moved slowly.
The dog’s right hind leg dragged slightly, as if injured, and the girl had deliberately slowed her pace to match it. The two of them gradually disappeared into the night.
“Maybe she’s a regular from the shop?” Qu Yanning muttered to himself as he climbed onto his scooter.
He quickly shrugged off the thought.
Maybe she was a buyer who’d ordered before—he did sometimes hand-deliver to local customers to save on shipping.
It wasn’t strange for someone to recognize him.
The night market wasn’t far from Qu Yanning’s apartment—just a fifteen-minute ride.
He drove his little three-wheeler along the familiar route and soon pulled up beneath his building.
The apartment complex was old and weathered, the buildings streaked with signs of age.
On both sides of the road were dense, tangled bushes, where many stray animals lived.
Qu Yanning parked and bent down to call softly, “Meow meow~” into the bushes.
Soon, two kittens darted out and rubbed affectionately against his legs.
He took out two pouches of cat treats from his pocket, tore them open, and placed them on the ground.
These kittens often came to him when they couldn’t find food, so he had gotten used to carrying a few treats with him.
The cats were already familiar with him.
After a gentle nuzzle on the back of his hand, they dove into their food.
Qu Yanning crouched nearby, smiling in contentment.
From behind the bushes, Xie Qi quietly watched the young man feeding the cats.
He had followed a trail of resentment all the way here, hoping to find something… only to stumble upon an unexpectedly interesting human.
Xie Qi narrowed his eyes and flicked his tail.
A pure yin constitution… how many years has it been since one of those showed up?
A walking Tang monk, huh? He chuckled darkly.
Qu Yanning caught a glimpse of something golden in the corner of his eye and turned his head—just in time to meet Xie Qi’s gaze.
A small cat, no bigger than two palms, sat at the edge of the bushes, tilting its head and staring wide-eyed at him.
Its fur was snowy white, with faint black ring patterns along its back and limbs.
Its golden eyes were as clear as top-grade amber.
Most striking of all was the marking on its forehead—an unmistakable character resembling “王” (king).
Completely unbothered by being caught staring, Xie Qi curled his tail neatly in front of him and sat calmly, head tilted.
Thinking the cat wanted food, Qu Yanning beckoned to him and mimicked a gentle “meow~.”
Xie Qi gave him a sidelong glance, stood up, flicked his tail, and walked away.
Many strays weren’t fond of humans.
Qu Yanning was a bit disappointed he hadn’t lured the cat in, but didn’t dwell on it.
He turned his attention back to the two kittens, watching them eat happily.
They were affectionate little things—after finishing their meal, they rubbed up against his legs, meowing softly.
The gentle sounds melted Qu Yanning’s heart.
He played with them a while longer before finally heading home.