A young man with messy shoulder-length cream-colored hair rushes down the stairs, his Engineering red uniform jacket slightly wrinkled and haphazardly put on. Almost stumbling down the last step, he rights himself before sliding into the kitchen. Almost quite literally with just his socks on.
He makes his way to the table carrying a black sling bag in one hand and a hair tie in the other. He slumps into his seat and places his bag on the floor. Placing his hair tie between his lips, he reaches up to finger comb his hair into a messy low ponytail.
His mother, who was just putting down the last of the food for breakfast (a plate of sunny-side-up eggs joining the pot filled with congee) on the table, raises an eyebrow in amusement.
“Late again, dear heart? I thought the five alarms would never fail you.” She teases.
The young man almost pouts, “Mother, you can’t just make fun of me when I’m suffering!”
She couldn’t help but laugh and pat his head before taking her seat, “Of course, of course.”
His phone pings, though the sound is muffled. He pats all his pockets down before realizing he must have shoved it into his bag and starts riffling through it. He lets out a small sound of victory once he does find it.
Opening his phone, he looks at the notifications before letting out a gasp.
“What’s wrong?” His mother asks, pausing from her eating.
He grabs his sling bag and puts it over his shoulder, detours to the fridge to grab one of the stocked lychee jelly drink packs, and starts rushing to the door.
“Li Ming!” His mother shouts in surprise, head turning to follow her son moving across the room.
“Sorry, Ma! I forgot I was supposed to meet my friends early!” He shouts back, crouching by the door to put on a pair of shoes after grabbing them from the shoe rack.
“At least pack some breakfast with you!” She says worriedly.
“I’m full! I’ll just buy something when I get there!” he says, finishing his laces and standing up. “I’ll be back later! Have fun teaching the kids at the nursery, Mom!”
And with those last words, the front door slams shut.
In the silence, Mother Pu could only sigh as she looked at the food she cooked.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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“Ojaf jujlc, atja Ol Zlcu.” Ycf sbecu yijmx-tjlgfv sbecu wjc kfjglcu j qglralcf Sculcffg eclobgw pjmxfa qfgofmais yeaabcfv weaafgr.
Ktf sbecu wjc klat rboa ygbkc tjlg jcv atf rjwf xlcv bo pjmxfa gjlrfr j olcufg jcv rjsr, “Qlat alwf jcv qjalfcmf atf weiyfggs ifjo yfmbwfr j rlix ubkc.”
Ktf akb rja bc j yfcmt mibrf ab atf qjgxlcu iba jcv fcagjcmf bo atf eclnfgrlas, pera ecvfg atf rtjvf bo atf agff ab qgbafma atfw ogbw atf rec’r gjsr.
Shang Wenduo rolls his eyes, “I get it, I get it, Feng Phan. Patience is a virtue and whatnot.”
Feng Phan shrugs, “You know how Li Ming is. That’s why we always plan early meet-ups whenever we’ve got something important going on for class.”
“You’d think he would notice that by now.” Shang Wenduo snorts.
“He probably will.” Feng Phan pauses, “Eventually.”
“High praise for Pu Li Ming.” He teases.
“You love him, don’t jest.” Feng Phan teases back with a soft smile.
Shang Wenduo sighs dramatically, “But do I really?”
Feng Phan looks away, a smile still on his face. They both know he’s lying. But Feng Phan can’t really deny the fact that he feels just the same.
Then speaking of, the object of their affection (“Unfortunately,” Shang Wenduo would say with a sarcastic lilt) came driving through with his small car.
Said car parks at the closest free space close to where they were standing, almost scraping a trashbin settled by the side.
Pu Li Ming stumbles out of the driver’s side before grabbing his bag and closing the door.
A couple of steps forward, the two friends see the realization go across Pu Li Ming’s face before he hurries back, grabs his keys, and locks the car.
As soon as he gets close enough to them, he smiles sheepishly and greets them, “Good morning guys.”
“You are such a mess, Li Ming.” Shang Wenduo says while Feng Phan elbows him and says good morning right back.
“You know I’m not!” Li Ming protests, “I’m just—”
“—in a hurry.” Feng Phan finishes, “But you really should manage or organize your time better, Li Ming.”
Pu Li Ming sighs before sitting beside them and leaning back against the back of the bench. He raises his face upward and covered it with an arm, “I’m trying.” he says softly.
Feng Phan sighs, “We know Li Ming, it’s okay.”
“What’s not okay—” Shang Wenduo pipes up, making Pu Li Ming look at him. “— is you not eating breakfast.”
Pu Li Ming frowns, “What if I did eat breakfast today?”
“If you were rushing like that, then I know you wouldn’t have the time to sit down to eat.” Shang Wenduo says, then reaches into his bag to grab a plastic-wrapped baked char siu bao from the local bakery close to where he lived.
“No, no, no, it’s fine!” Pu Li Ming protests and sits up properly while shaking his hands.
“You and I both know this will end the same as every other day when you skipped breakfast.” Was the only response with a stern look.
Pu Li Ming sighed and takes it, “…thank you.”
Shang Wenduo stares at the bun that was put into Li Ming’s black sling bag but decides not to push.
“So before we go to class, how are you doing on that bridge project, Li Ming?” Feng Phan asks.
Pu Li Ming pauses in his movements and it tells the two friends all they need to know.
“…Pu Li Ming.” Shang Wenduo says, in a voice.
“I’m making good progress, I promise!” Pu Li Ming pipes up, “It’s just… going slower than I should probably have it be.”
Shang Wenduo almost groans but cuts their friend some slack, “Alright, progress is good.”
“Do you need any help?” Feng Phan asks worriedly.
“I’ll be okay, don’t worry.” Pu Li Ming insists with a smile at his friends.
“Don’t be afraid to ask us if—”
Pu Li Ming cuts him off, “I know, I know— Just ‘ask if I need help’, I get it. I don’t want to rely on you guys or bother you two so much.”
Feng Phan pats his shoulder, “You’re not a bother.
Shang Wenduo snorts, “Much.”
“Ha, ha. Very funny.” Pu Li Ming launches back.
Feng Phan laughs and stands up while Shang Wenduo smirks, “Come on, we should go. The bell should be ringing soon.”
“How would you know?” Pu Li Ming asks.
“By actually keeping track of time, Pu Li Ming—”
This author has something to say:
They’re brothers, your honor—
As you can probably tell, I am a sucker for soft friendships and caring friends
Shout out to my BFFS since 4th and 5th-grade lmao
Interesting! They seem protective of him.
He reminds me of myself, I’m late to everything haha