Lovely Allergen

Chapter 79: Lost in the Eye of the Storm

That endearment left Yue Zhishi faint and woozy the entire time up until they got off the car, his entire brain feeling warm and flushed. He was originally an obedient child to begin with, and he became even more docile after turning silly and foolish, letting Song Yu tug him forward however he wished.

There weren't that many people on the streets, and so Yue Zhishi didn't feel too embarrassed. He kept replaying in his mind how Song Yu had looked when he called him baobao, like a hamster who'd hidden away nuts in his cheeks, furtively taking them out and savouring them with small nibbles when no one was around.

But before they entered the restaurant, Song Yu still ended up untying the ribbon around his hands, slowly and leisurely folding it up and putting it away. The restaurant was packed with people, and there were two, three young men and women waiting for taxis at the entrance. Once they saw Yue Zhishi, they gave him a few more glances.

"Didn't you say you were going to keep me tied up for dinner?" Yue Zhishi pressed himself against Song Yu's arm, leaning on him as they went up the steps. "You're not going to feed me anymore?"

Song Yu looked at the self-satisfaction on Yue Zhishi's face that he couldn't quite hide, and his mouth unconsciously curled up several degrees.

"That needs to be paid for, big shot lawyer."

"I'll have lots of money in the future, I can afford it."

It was a large restaurant, decorated according to Chinese customs; it was even slightly decorated according to the style of a . Yue Zhishi only noticed the place was a bit familiar after entering their private room — he carefully thought about it, and then he realised this was one of the restaurants he saw listed in the Black Pearl Restaurant Guide when he was researching where to eat.

"How'd you know about this place?" Yue Zhishi asked.

Song Yu was ordering food with the ease of long practice, and then he closed the menu, handing it to the waiter, before quietly talking to her about allergies, dietary restraints and other things. He waited for the waiter to leave before looking at Yue Zhishi. "Your memory really isn't all that good."

"Have I talked about this place before?" Yue Zhishi frowned, not remembering.

"On the bullet train," Song Yu said.

Yue Zhishi had a vague impression of doing so. He had likely mentioned it only in passing — after all, there wasn't much logical flow in his words when he was mindlessly chattering away.

But Song Yu was like a machine able to save memories at any place and at any time. There were some small, trifling things that Yue Zhishi found insignificant and essentially wouldn't remember at all — and yet Song Yu would forever be able to clearly point them out, even able to remember the time and place they were first mentioned.

He'd thought that was because Song Yu was smart, born with innate ability.

The waiter pushed the door and entered, carrying in her hands not only a white porcelain teapot but also a square cushion. Song Yu turned his head to look at her and pointed at Yue Zhishi; the waiter immediately understood and walked over. She asked Yue Zhishi to first get up, and then she placed the cushion onto the chair. "Sir, please sit."

Yue Zhishi's ears were still warm by the time the waiter left and closed the door — he wanted to say something, but he was too embarrassed to say it. The two of them sat at the ends of the table, separated very far, and Yue Zhishi chucked whatever table manners he had to the side, moving his chair next to Song Yu's side.

Perhaps it was because the Song family's family upbringing was relatively casual and gentle; whenever everyone ate together, all of them needed to sit together. Even though their house was very large, they all preferred to sit around a small circular dining table.