"My mother said you broke your leg, but she didn't say you also damaged your brain," he said stiffly.
"Want to feel the cast on my foot?" I symbolically lifted my right leg, indicating that I would crush it.
"Aren't you going to invite me in?" He's still standing at the door.
"Hand over the fruit first." I smiled politely.
He glanced down at the fruit basket in his hand, then handed it to me.
"Tea, coffee, cola, or juice? Don't you have to go to work today?" I closed the door after he came in.
"Tea, the handover work isn't done yet. You'll officially take office next week."
"Then why did you come so early?" I asked while making tea.
"Adapt to life."
I served him tea, and he looked into the cup and asked, "What is this?"
"The milk tea is homemade. You've come to see me, so it wouldn't be right for me to just throw a couple of tea leaves into the water. That would be too shabby. I need to show you that I value you." I smiled politely. Usually, these big, tough guys would coolly drink black coffee or fine tea to show they're tough, so I served milk tea, the really sweet kind. Serves him right for calling me stupid.
“My mother told you,” he picked up the glass, took a sip, and continued, “I like milk tea. Very well, it’s my favorite flavor. I’ll say it again, even if you look at me again, I won’t be interested in you.”
I was clearly looking at them with disgust, and just as I was about to speak, someone rang the doorbell again. I checked my watch; it was 11:30 a.m. Today was quite lively.
"Go open the door." Seeing that he didn't seem to care, I reminded him.
"This is your home." He drank his milk tea without changing his expression.
“I broke my leg, and I hopped to open the door for you because there was no one else in the house. Now that you are the only ‘other person’ in this house, you should at least have this basic awareness,” I solemnly reminded him.
The doorbell kept ringing.
He finally stood up and opened the door.
"Nuan Nuan, I called your company, and they said you..." It was Kurosawa Yu.
"Excuse me, I went to the wrong place. Sorry to bother you." He clearly didn't understand why a stranger was opening the door for him.
In the end, I still hopped to the door and told him that he hadn't gone to the wrong place.
"This is Kurosawa Yu, the chef at my friend's restaurant. He's Japanese."
"This is Noriyuki Hayakawa, the son of my mother's friend, a Japanese man."
Great! When fellow countrymen meet, their eyes should well up with tears.
"Warm, your feet..." Kurosawa Yu hurriedly squeezed Hayakawa's hand and turned to ask me.
"Car accident? Didn't you call my company? By the way, what did you call me about?"
"Nothing much, the shop was under renovation, so I took the opportunity to go back to my home in Japan. I bought you some gifts and was wondering when you'd have time, but..."
"A gift?" I looked at what he was carrying. "You mean, this food?"
“No,” he hurriedly pulled a bag from his pocket, containing a prayer plaque. “This is it. I got it from the shrine near my house.”
I accepted it respectfully. Although I am an atheist, I have always valued the good wishes of others.
"As for the food," he scratched the back of his head, "I thought it would be inconvenient for you to cook or eat out since you hurt your leg, so I brought it over so we could eat together."
I smiled and said, "Kurosawa, you are such a gentle and thoughtful person. I think your future girlfriend will be very happy. The kitchen is over there. Thank you."
Kurosawa smiled at Hayakawa and went into the kitchen.
I turned around and looked at Hayakawa next to me. I hadn't been breathing for so long that I had almost forgotten that there was such a person.
"Who is he?" he asked after a moment of thought.
“I already told you, Kurosawa Yu, the chef at my friend’s restaurant. He’s Japanese,” I replied, taking a sip of juice.
"I'd like to ask something more specific."
"Specifically?" I glanced at him sideways. "What do you mean by specifically? Height, weight, measurements, birthday, blood type, zodiac sign, family background, political affiliation, lifestyle, personal preferences?" I joked.
"Hmm, add the question of whether or not I have a girlfriend, and that's about it." He took a satisfied sip of his milk tea.
"What are you trying to do?" Asking such a question clearly indicates ill intentions.
"You don't need to worry about that, just answer the questions."
"You should be more polite when asking others for help," he said, impolitely, and I despise him.
There was a moment of silence.
"Please answer my question, and please be specific. Thank you."
Seeing him swallowing his anger, I really wanted to laugh.
So I laughed.
"How would I know? Why don't you just ask him?"
There was a moment of silence.
"Men should also have some self-respect."
I almost spit out my cola, but I still choked and kept coughing.