Nightmare Strikes

Chapter 22: The Qipao



 

Translator: Cinder Translations

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After finishing his kitchen duties, the fatty picked up his tools and began tinkering away, completing the remaining repairs in the mostly tidied workshop. He tightened several loose screws on the standing clothes rack with a screwdriver that seemed to appear out of nowhere. Then, he lightly tapped the joints with a hammer to make them more secure.

 

Finally, he wrapped some black electrical tape around the joints.

 

As the fatty was shaking the rack to see if it still wobbled, he suddenly noticed a piece of clothing hanging in the middle that had a slight bluish hue.

 

At first glance, it was easy to miss.

 

Pushing aside the nearby clothes, he was startled to discover that it was a blue qipao.

 

It had a high collar, short sleeves, and was made of silk with fine craftsmanship.

 

There were also several peony-style embroideries on it, clearly expensive. When he leaned in closer, he could smell a faint, elegant fragrance.

 

It was unmistakably a woman's garment.

 

The fatty was instantly energized.

 

Just then, the sound of footsteps echoed down the stairs, and moments later, Jiang Cheng came down carrying a large bucket of clothes.

 

As he descended, he came face to face with the fatty, who wore a strange expression.

 

"What are you doing?" Jiang Cheng asked, balancing the overflowing bucket of clothes and tilting his head toward the fatty.

 

"Doctor," the fatty exclaimed, "I found a qipao on your clothes rack!"

 

"Huh?" Jiang Cheng frowned.

 

"A blue one, with a slit this high up the thigh!" The fatty gestured with his hands, as if he'd made some great discovery.

 

There was no malice in his excitement; to him, everything about Jiang Cheng was fresh and mysterious, like the thrill of accidentally uncovering someone else's secret.

 

Jiang Cheng's expression started to grow serious, which only heightened the fatty's satisfaction. He had grown used to being tongue-tied by Jiang Cheng, so finally, he felt like he had the upper hand.

 

He eagerly awaited Jiang Cheng's explanation.

 

"Is there only one?" Jiang Cheng set down the large bucket of clothes and casually rummaged through it. "That's strange, there should also be a pink intimate one and a white fringed shawl. Look again," Jiang Cheng said, staring at the fatty.

 

The fatty was dumbfounded: "???"

 

Jiang Cheng then flipped the entire bucket of clothes upside down. The fatty froze, his pupils suddenly dilating.

 

If the Pi Ruan incident had shattered his worldview, this current scene had just crushed the remnants of it into dust.

 

Once the bucket was overturned, the clothes spilled out. With just a glance, the fatty could tell most of them were women's clothing, of all kinds and styles. That plain qipao wasn't even remarkable in comparison.

 

It was only then that the fatty finally realized what kind of person he was dealing with.

 

He had completely underestimated Jiang Cheng. Not only could Jiang Cheng facilitate simple love stories between people like Pi Ruan and wealthy women, but he could also practice such... all-embracing love that he seemed willing to feed himself to the tiger.

 

"Why are you silent?" Jiang Cheng asked.

 

The fatty took a deep breath, quietly returning the clothes on the rack to their original place and covering the qipao. Then he looked at Jiang Cheng, saying, "Doctor, I think either I'm misunderstanding things, or this world has gone mad."

 

Jiang Cheng seriously replied, "I think you've got it wrong. These clothes aren't for those kinds of people. I'm not Pi Ruan, I have principles."

 

The fatty covered his face, silently thinking, Doctor, please just stop talking.

 

But he couldn't say those words aloud. After calming himself, the fatty asked, "Then whose clothes are these?"

 

He paused, as if realizing something, and his face brightened considerably. "Are they your girlfriend's, Doctor?" After saying this, the fatty felt a bit embarrassed.

 

Honestly, that seemed like the most normal and reasonable explanation. What had he been thinking this whole time?

 

To be fair, Jiang Cheng looked quite decent. As long as he didn't open his mouth, he could pass for a normal person.

 

He also had a respectable and well-regarded job.

 

"No," Jiang Cheng shook his head, "They belong to my landlady. She's also my boss. She left them here."

 

The fatty shuddered, his gaze toward Jiang Cheng dramatically shifting. Suddenly, the world didn't feel so right anymore.

 

He walked to the door, opened it, silently pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and stood there, gazing blankly and aimlessly into the distance.

 

Jiang Cheng turned around and caught sight of the fatty's half-profile, which was filled with melancholy and confusion, a face full of untold stories.

 

"Fatty," Jiang Cheng said casually, "I can smell the ribs cooking. Can you check if they're done?"

 

Hearing this, the fatty flicked away his cigarette, turned, and went into the kitchen. He stood beside Jiang Cheng for a moment, his lips moving as if he wanted to say something, but no words came out.

 

Soon, the aroma of meat filled the air. The fatty carried a steaming pot of soup wrapped in a cloth and placed it on the table, where Jiang Cheng had already laid out a cloth.

 

The pot fit perfectly on the cloth, and then the fatty brought out a plate of spicy and sour potato slices, along with two large bowls of rice.

 

(End of the Chapter)

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