LGHTNOVELBOOK Chapter 571 - 589: Strange Memory (4th Update!) (Extra for IAG_Qishi Alliance Hierarch!)
Chapter 571: Chapter 589: Strange Memory (4th Update!) (Extra for IAG_Qishi Alliance Hierarch!)
(This is Chapter 569, apologies for the wrong chapter number 〒_〒)
Jiang Feng returned to the second-floor men’s restroom he hadn’t visited in a long time and opened the attribute panel, even feeling a sense of homecoming.
He skipped over “A Segment of Jiang Xiaoran’s Memory” and clicked on “A Segment of Fang Yaqing’s Memory,” choosing yes. Jiang Feng was immediately enveloped by fog.
Jiang Feng found himself on a street.
It seemed to be a tranquil afternoon with the sunlight just right, warmly spilling over him. It wasn’t too hot; there was a gentle breeze rustling the leaves in the green belt.
There weren’t many cars on the road, but there were some students riding their bicycles with backpacks. The shops on the street were all operating normally, although the signs were somewhat old. There were print shops, construction material stores, hardware stores, grocery stores, and also a noodle shop, clearly an old street.
Although it should have been a leisurely setting, Jiang Feng always felt that the atmosphere was a bit strange.
He followed behind a father and daughter.
The father was a middle-aged man, very scholarly in appearance, impeccably dressed in formal wear, his shoes polished to a shine—clearly, a man who paid great attention to his appearance.
The daughter must be Fang Yaqing, wearing her school uniform and carrying a backpack, likely still in middle school. With a simple ponytail and plain canvas shoes, she walked listlessly beside her dad, appearing somewhat unhappy.
The two of them walked on without any interaction or even making a sound. Fang Yaqing, clearly displeased, kicked pebbles as she walked, but her dad seemed indifferent, as if he didn’t care about anything at all.
Jiang Feng took a close look at the eyes of Fang Yaqing’s dad, feeling that while he seemed to be looking ahead, he didn’t quite seem to be focusing on anything, making it impossible to guess at what he was seeing or thinking. He came across as a very indifferent person.
They continued down this old street for over ten minutes, like two strangers who just happened to be walking together.
If not for the sound of the wind, footsteps, bicycle bells, and the conversations between shop owners and customers in the nearby shops, Jiang Feng might have suspected he was watching a silent film.
Absurd and eerie, enough to send shivers down one’s spine.
The atmosphere between Fang Yaqing and her dad couldn’t just be described as weird; it was more like the set of a horror movie.
Jiang Feng felt like if these two simply turned a corner and walked a few more steps into a deserted alley while maintaining this vibe, they could set up a camera to film the whole way, and without any editing, it would be ready for the big screen.
The horror atmosphere was just perfect, the kind that made one feel more restless the longer one watched.
Then, the father and daughter turned a corner.
But instead of turning into a deserted alley, they turned into a residential area. Jiang Feng could clearly see there was a large residential complex ahead, with some scattered shops around its periphery.
It looked like they were heading home.
Jiang Feng couldn’t help but look back and forth between the father and daughter, trying to determine whether Fang Yaqing and her dad were having a disagreement or if this was how they always interacted. Although Fang Yaqing seemed a bit angry, her dad showed no reaction, as if she was angry with herself.
They arrived at the entrance of the residential area, and Fang Yaqing’s dad turned to go in.
“I’m going to buy something to eat,” Fang Yaqing said, not waiting for her dad’s reaction and heading straight for the pastry shop ahead.
Fang Yaqing’s dad stopped, turned around, and followed Fang Yaqing.
Jiang Feng looked up at the name of the pastry shop and noticed that it was unnamed; the signboard was just an empty plaque.
Jiang Feng sighed at how this memory was filled with oddities at every turn and followed Fang Yaqing into the pastry shop.
The entrance to the pastry shop was small, but the inside was quite spacious, with a few tables and chairs for customers to sit and eat in the shop apart from the display cabinet.
There was no one at the window, but there were sounds from inside, presumably the pastry chef busily at work.
“Is someone there?” Fang Yaqing called out.
“Yes, just a moment,” Jiang Feng was surprised to find that the voice sounded somewhat familiar.
Before long, Zheng Da, carrying a tray of freshly baked peach pastries, came out from the back.
Zheng Da from ten years ago was a bit fatter than he is now, and having worked in the kitchen half the day, he was quite sweaty. His whole face seemed greasy, the image of a middle-aged, greasy man.
Jiang Feng: ???
“Who are you? Where’s Master Zheng?” Fang Yaqing clearly didn’t recognize Zheng Da.
“I’m his dad; he’s out on a blind date,” Zheng Da said.
“Oh,” Fang Yaqing looked at the display, “please weigh me 10 yuan’s worth of sesame candies and 10 yuan’s worth of ding sheng cake.”
“Alrighty,” Zheng Da clumsily started stuffing pastries into the bag and almost spilled them when placing the bag on the scale.
“Would 22 yuan be okay?” Zheng Da asked.
“That’s fine,” Fang Yaqing paid.
Fang Yaqing’s dad had been standing behind and watching, and Jiang Feng noticed that his gaze was actually fixed on the freshly baked peach pastries.
“Weigh 20 yuan of peach crisps,” Fang Yaqing’s dad suddenly spoke.
Zheng Da weighed out 20 yuan’s worth of peach crisps for him, and this time the amount was precise; Jiang Feng saw that the electronic scale displayed the price as 20.46 yuan.
That’s how father and daughter, each carrying their own bags, continued on their way home in silence.
It wasn’t until they had returned home and set their pastries on the table that Fang Yaqing burst out first, unable to contain her frustration any longer.
“Yesterday, Mom and I agreed that I would go out to dinner with my classmates tonight. It’s my birthday, why can’t I go out to eat with them? Why did you even come to pick me up from school?” Fang Yaqing angrily accused, obviously having held back during their walk.
“I phoned your mom at lunch; she is going to buy groceries this afternoon, and we’ll eat at home in the evening,” Fang Yaqing’s dad said, his face expressionless, looking detached.
“Why should I? My friends and I already made plans. Why do you forbid me from going just because you’re back from a trip?” Fang Yaqing was even angrier.
This time, a flicker of emotion crossed Fang Yaqing’s dad’s face. Jiang Feng, who had been watching him carefully, could tell he seemed to have something to say but then suppressed it.
“Birthdays should be celebrated with family at home, you can eat with your friends anytime,” Fang Yaqing’s dad said.
“I made plans with my friends last week, and we can eat at home any other time—I eat at home every day!” Fang Yaqing was still unhappy.
“You can’t use the excuse that you just came back from a trip and want everyone to eat together to stop me from going out,” Fang Yaqing argued with her dad in a way that was almost amusing—the one to get angry was her, and she was also the one to calm down first, perhaps because there really wasn’t much to argue about.
Fang Yaqing’s father spoke indifferently, his face devoid of emotion, making arguing with him feel like arguing with oneself.
“Will Grandpa and Grandma be coming tonight?” Fang Yaqing asked.
“Yes, they will.”
“Well, that’s better.” Fang Yaqing, clutching her newly purchased pastries, prepared to head back to her room. Then, as if remembering something, she added, “I’ve already made plans with my friends to go out for dinner this Saturday. Dad, I’m telling you in advance, don’t create some other excuse to stop me from going.”
“Mhm.”
“By the way, Dad, where’s my birthday gift? You can’t possibly have come back from such a long business trip without buying me anything, right?” Fang Yaqing reached out her hand for her present.
“It’s in my suitcase.”
“And where’s the suitcase?”
Fang Yaqing’s dad paused: “At the school.”
“Why didn’t you bring the suitcase home? Are you coming back tonight?” Fang Yaqing probed further.
“The project isn’t finished yet…”
“Oh, I got it.” Fang Yaqing pouted, this time genuinely ready to return to her room.
Fang Yaqing’s dad picked up some peach crisps from the table—still warm—and offered them to her, saying, “They’re fresh from the oven, don’t eat too many.”
“I don’t like peach crisps,” Fang Yaqing said somewhat discontentedly.
“They taste better when they’re fresh.”
“Ok.” Fang Yaqing, carrying three bags, went back to her room, with Jiang Feng following behind.
While Fang Yaqing was arguing with her dad, Jiang Feng had taken the opportunity to look around her house, a three-bedroom, two-living-room apartment. The decor was very minimalistic, with two bedrooms and one study. The study had two bookshelves, but strangely, one of them was empty; Jiang Feng suspected it was an old bookshelf that hadn’t been moved out yet.
Fang Yaqing’s room also had a small bookshelf filled with some novels and textbooks, and her desk was stacked with tutoring books—a typical middle school girl’s room.
Fang Yaqing threw her schoolbag on the ground, slumped into the chair, and opened the bags of snacks to eat beside her desk.
She started with the sesame crisps, then moved on to the ding sheng cake. After finishing both bags, she turned her attention to the now-cool pastries.
Fang Yaqing took a piece of the pastry from the bag, grimaced, and took a big bite.
“Hmph!”
Surrounded by fog, Jiang Feng vaguely heard Fang Yaqing mutter something.
“He definitely forgot my birthday and didn’t buy a gift, just lied about leaving the suitcase at school.”
Jiang Feng, after departing from the memory: ???
So, what was the purpose of this memory? Was it to express a middle school girl’s anger toward her father for forgetting her birthday?
Jiang Feng felt that even after watching the memory, he still didn’t understand why it suddenly surfaced, just because Fang Yaqing ate Zheng Da’s peach crisps?
Jiang Feng had eaten Zheng Da’s peach crisps too, and they were indeed tasty, but they surely couldn’t be so delicious as to be unforgettable for ten years.
With this doubt in mind, Jiang Feng opened the recipe book.