Chapter Sixteen: Momentous Events

As for the effect of the publicity? Once a rumor takes hold, people tend to believe it; Zhang Ye had witnessed too many shopping frenzies driven by such hearsay. Most people would rather believe in the possibility than dismiss it outright.

Besides, Zhang Ye hadn’t actually lied in his advertisements—the watermelons in Qiyuan Town really were all ruined, weren’t they? Who would dare eat watermelons that had been soaked in floodwaters?

“Should we put up our fruit shop’s name as well?” Liu Wentao, always quick-witted, caught on immediately. His eyes lit up and he silently praised the cleverness of the idea.

“No need. That would only backfire. It’s best if they find us on their own—it’ll have an even greater effect,” Zhang Ye shook his head and took a hearty bite of watermelon.

These past few days, they’d been eating watermelon nonstop; whenever their mouths weren’t busy talking, they were chewing on another slice. But this indulgence came at a price—Zhao Haidong got an upset stomach from overindulging, spending a night in the bathroom and losing nearly a kilo. Zhang Ye and Liu Wentao hadn’t suffered quite so much, but even they noticed their urine and stools were tinged red.

But truly, the watermelon was so sweet and delicious they simply couldn’t resist.

Liu Wentao nodded vigorously, took the money, and left.

On the street, among the local ruffians, Brother Tao’s name still carried weight. He’d never really been a hooligan himself, but that didn’t stop them from respecting him.

Once both men had left, only Zhang Ye remained to watch over the fruit shop. As he lounged, legs crossed, waiting for customers, a beautiful figure appeared before him.

“Xiao Ye, what are you doing here? Is this your brother’s fruit shop? He’s never mentioned it before, has he?” The voice, naturally, belonged to Aunt Wang—Wang Mengzi—from next door.

Zhang Ye quickly stood up, offering an awkward smile. “Oh, Aunt Wang, no, this isn’t my shop. I’m just looking after it for a friend—he had to go out for something.” Embarrassment colored his face, and he wished he could disappear into the cracks in the floor.

He always wanted to appear presentable in front of Wang Mengzi; now, caught lounging with his legs up, he was sure she’d seen everything.

“You’re here for watermelon, right? Don’t worry about the money, take as much as you want.” Zhang Ye hurried to reassure her, selecting two of the largest watermelons and trying to hand them over.

Wang Mengzi laughed and shook her head. “No, I’m on my way to work. How would it look, carrying watermelons around? I just thought I saw you as I passed and came over to check.”

Zhang Ye’s lips and cheeks were still stained with the red of the watermelon he’d just eaten, and a watermelon seed clung to his chin like a black mole, rising and falling as he moved his mouth. The sight made Wang Mengzi burst out laughing.

Her smile was as radiant as a blossom, and for a moment Zhang Ye was utterly entranced. He blurted out, “Aunt Wang, you’re so beautiful.”

At his words, Wang Mengzi’s eyes widened in mock annoyance. “What’s going through your little head all day? Is that something you can say to just anyone? It’s fine because it’s me, but what if someone else heard you?” She gave him a playful smack on the head, though a faint blush crept up her cheeks.

Beautiful as she was, she was used to compliments and flattery, but being praised by the young man she’d watched grow up still made her heart feel strangely warm.

“So, Xiao Ye really has grown up!” He was now half a head taller than her, with a sturdy chest and muscular arms, and even a hint of fuzz at the corners of his mouth—he was no longer the child he once was. His character might be unchanged, but his body certainly wasn’t.

For reasons she couldn’t explain, Wang Mengzi felt a pang of loss.

Does that mean I can say it to you if not to others? Zhang Ye’s heart leaped with sudden joy. “But it seems I need to change how Aunt Wang sees me. A little rascal? Is that really how she sees me?”

For Zhang Ye, who’d already resolved to pursue the beautiful woman ten years his senior, this was a blow.

“Look at you! Wipe your face—there’s watermelon juice and seeds all over your lips and chin,” Wang Mengzi chided, oblivious to how her words had been misinterpreted. She pulled out a tissue and handed it to him, but seeing how clumsy he was, she stepped forward to wipe his face herself.

“Mengzi, what are you doing?” Just then, a tall man walked over, a hint of coldness flickering in his eyes.

“It’s him—” Zhang Ye recognized the newcomer and saw the chill in his eyes. Instantly, a nearly forgotten memory flashed through his mind like lightning. “How could I have forgotten this?” Regret gnawed at him.

In his previous life, while Zhang Ye was recovering from an injury, a major event occurred—one that transformed the always gentle and kind Wang Mengzi into a cold and distant person, wary of nearly all men.

At that time, Wang Mengzi had some affection for this man—Gao Ming, the deputy editor of the newspaper. But after a dinner together, he’d taken advantage of the ride home and, feigning drunkenness, tried to rape her. Thankfully, Zhang Ye’s mother, Liu Meiju, who was bringing Wang Mengzi dinner, arrived just in time to stop him, but the incident left Wang Mengzi deeply traumatized.

After that, Wang Mengzi’s personality changed drastically, and she gradually became distant from Zhang Ye as well.

Remembering all this, Zhang Ye’s heart surged with a fierce protectiveness. He would never let such a thing happen again—not even the slightest harm would come to Wang Mengzi.

“Oh, Deputy Editor Gao, is there something you need?” After wiping Zhang Ye’s face clean, Wang Mengzi finally turned around, her expression cold and unreadable.

Gao Ming affected a tone of friendliness as he approached. “So this is the Zhang Ye you’ve mentioned before? Not bad—a fine young man, though a bit unkempt. That’s not good. A man can be casual, but he should at least look clean.” The sarcasm in his words was subtle, but anyone with experience could detect it.

Having lived into his thirties in his past life, Zhang Ye was no stranger to intrigue and hardship. He caught the barb in Gao Ming’s words immediately and responded in kind, not bothering to be polite. “Thank you for the advice, Deputy Editor Gao. I do like to keep things clean—used to have a dog, and every day I’d brush him until he was spotless, almost ready to dress him up in a suit and tie like yours. But, well, a beast is a beast. No matter how clean I kept him, whenever he saw a female dog, he’d go wild and pounce like an animal. It was really quite a sight.”

As he spoke, he stepped back, feigning disgust.

“You…” Zhang Ye hadn’t named anyone, but the sarcasm and mockery in his tone were unmistakable. How could Gao Ming not realize he was being called a beast in a suit?

Wang Mengzi couldn’t help herself—she burst out laughing, then quickly covered her mouth, realizing it was inappropriate. She looked utterly adorable.

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