Chapter 115: The Takeout

Luo Xiaoning held her phone, head bowed, tapping at the screen, her voice flat with the exhaustion of someone who had stopped trying.

“I’m ordering takeout. What do you want to eat?”

Su Yutao didn’t react.

She hadn’t eaten well at Lin Qingxue’s place anyway, so food didn’t matter much to her now.

Luo Xiaoning waited a few seconds, sighed, and scrolled through her phone on her own. “I’ll get you some congee, and a couple of buns. Okay?”

Su Yutao nodded.

Luo Xiaoning placed the order, then flopped onto the sofa, staring up at the ceiling, sprawled out like a salted fish left to dry in the sun.

She glanced at the smoke curling from the kitchen and closed her eyes. She didn’t want to look anymore.

Su Yutao sat on the bed, hugging Qiansui, catching the burnt smell drifting from the kitchen as she waited for the food.

Qiansui whispered in her ear. “Host, do you think she’ll mess up the takeout too?”

Su Yutao thought: ‘Takeout can’t be messed up. She just needs to open the door, or at least not order a bomb.’

Qiansui said: “True.”

Then came silence.

Just as Su Yutao was about to doze off waiting for the food, a knock sounded at the door.

The takeout had arrived. Luo Xiaoning jumped off the sofa, trotted to the door, and took the bag.

She came back to the dining table, took out the contents, and laid them out.

She hesitated. Then she walked to the bedroom door, pushed it open a crack, and looked at Su Yutao curled up on the bed. Her voice was muffled. “Come out and eat. At the table.”

Su Yutao slid off the bed, hugged Qiansui, and groped her way out of the bedroom to the dining table.

Luo Xiaoning pulled out a chair, pressed Su Yutao down into it, pushed the congee bowl in front of her, and shoved a spoon into her hand. Her voice was hard. “Eat.”

Su Yutao held the spoon. She didn’t move.

She waited, expecting Luo Xiaoning to scoop up the congee, blow on it, and bring it to her lips the way Lin Qingxue had.

But Luo Xiaoning didn’t.

She was already sitting across the table, digging into her own plate of fried rice, crunching loudly with every bite.

Su Yutao waited a little longer. Her stomach growled again.

She couldn’t hold it in anymore. She waved the spoon toward Luo Xiaoning and made “mm, mm” sounds.

Luo Xiaoning looked up at her. “What?”

Su Yutao opened her mouth and squeezed out one word from her throat. “Feed.”

It came out soft and babyish, as if it were only natural.

That was how Lin Qingxue always fed her, never letting her lift a finger.

Luo Xiaoning froze for a moment, then frowned. “Can’t you eat by yourself?”

Su Yutao shook her head and pointed at her eyes. I can’t see.

Luo Xiaoning looked at those unfocused purple eyes, and irritation rose in her chest.

She wasn’t Lin Qingxue. She didn’t want to wait on this little blind girl.

She took a bite of rice, chewed, swallowed. Her voice was hard.

“You can’t see, so feel your way around. The congee is in the bowl, the buns are on the plate. Use your hands, find them, and eat. If you can’t reach them, forget it. Go hungry.”

Su Yutao held the spoon and still didn’t move.

A surge of grievance rose in her chest. Lin Qingxue hadn’t been like this.

The more she thought, the angrier she got. Her cheeks puffed out, her lips pouted, her whole face written with displeasure.

Luo Xiaoning glanced at her, ignored her, and kept eating.

Su Yutao stayed angry for a while. Her stomach growled again.

She had no choice. She started eating by feel.

She dipped the spoon into the congee, scooped some up, and brought it to her mouth.

The spoon wobbled midair, spilling some congee onto her hand. It was hot enough to make her flinch, but at least she got some in.

She scooped again. This time it spilled onto her clothes, leaving a few drops of brown congee on her white nightgown.

The more she ate, the more wronged she felt. Her cheeks puffed even higher.

Qiansui whispered in her ear. “Host, don’t be angry. She’s not Lin Qingxue. She won’t take care of you.”

Su Yutao thought: ‘I know. But I’m still angry.’

She stuck the spoon into the congee bowl. She didn’t want to eat anymore.

She remembered that Lin Qingxue had given her a children’s soup spoon. It was small, with a round tip, easy to hold.

That spoon was in the drawer of the bedside table in the bedroom.

She slid down from the chair, hugged Qiansui, and groped her way toward the bedroom.

Luo Xiaoning was eating when she caught Su Yutao heading for the bedroom out of the corner of her eye. A “buzz” went through her head.

She remembered what had happened this morning. This little blind girl had fished a phone out of that drawer and called Lin Qingxue.

Now she was going to the bedroom again. Was she looking for something else to tattle with?

Luo Xiaoning’s chopsticks fell. She shot to her feet, rushed over, and wrapped her arms around Su Yutao’s waist from behind, trying to lift her and keep her out of the bedroom.

She thought: ‘This little blind girl is lighter than me. I can lift her.’

She locked her hands around Su Yutao’s waist and pulled up.

Caught off guard by the sudden hug, Su Yutao was stunned.

Luo Xiaoning’s foot slid on the floor. The water stains she’d brought from the kitchen hadn’t been wiped clean, and she stepped right on one.

Her body lost its balance, and she pitched forward, taking Su Yutao down with her.

“Thump.” The two of them hit the dining room tiles.

Qiansui was crushed at the very bottom.

Su Yutao pressed down on Qiansui, and Luo Xiaoning pressed down on Su Yutao. Two people and a penguin, stacked together.

Qiansui’s voice came from the very bottom, muffled, like something squashed flat. “Damn. I’ve been flattened into a pancake. Host, get up. I’m going to split open.”

Su Yutao hurt too. Her shoulder was jammed by Luo Xiaoning’s elbow. It was an old injury, and the pain made her hiss through her teeth.

Her stomach was pinned by Luo Xiaoning’s knee, pressing the bite mark Lin Qingxue had left last night until it throbbed. She curled up, whimpering softly, hurt and wronged.

Luo Xiaoning hadn’t landed softly either. Her elbow cracked against the tiles, and she grimaced.

She pushed herself up off the floor and looked down at Su Yutao.

The little thing was curled on the ground, white hair scattered, nightgown wrinkled and stained with congee and dust. Her face was full of pain, and small hisses and whimpers came from her mouth.

The penguin in her arms was squashed flat, tilted to one side, its fur sticking out in every direction, like a pancake someone had sat on.

Luo Xiaoning quickly crouched down, helped Su Yutao up from the floor, and sat her against the table leg.

She reached out to check Su Yutao’s injuries, a hint of panic in her voice. “Wh-where does it hurt? What got pressed?”

Su Yutao was in too much pain to speak. She just pointed at her shoulder. That was the old injury, hit by Luo Xiaoning’s elbow.

Luo Xiaoning pressed lightly. Su Yutao sucked in a breath and shrank back.

Luo Xiaoning looked at her stomach. On the nightgown was a round bite mark, one Lin Qingxue had left last night. The pressure had turned it red, with a swollen ring around it.

Luo Xiaoning stared at the bite mark, stunned. Why does this little thing have a bite mark on her stomach?

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