Half-Burnt Fireworks

Chapter.2

Nick woke up at 8 a.m., while Liz didn't wake up until 9:30 a.m. Normally, Nick's habits allowed him to sleep in as late as 1 p.m., so his early awakening was a rarity. He went to a convenience store, purchasing new toothbrushes, towels, slippers, and other daily necessities. The store manager, seeing him buy more than just beer and milk, thought he might be moving and even gave him a pack of sanitary napkins to express regret and nostalgia. Nick accidentally hit the manager's face with the sanitary napkins, nearly causing her to faint, so he reluctantly added a few more pieces of raw meat to his purchase. Nick was rather pleased with himself after that and promised to introduce her to new employees over the next few days as a token of gratitude.

The store manager asked, "Based on the fact that you didn't return the sanitary napkins, is there a possibility that you are a woman? Or perhaps you have a woman with you?"

Nick quipped, "Do you often work as a police dog at the police station? Why are you so curious? Are you a police dog?"

The store manager wasn't upset but continued to inquire about whether he had a woman with him, given his purchase of women's slippers. Nick found the topic tiresome and said, "I enjoy cross-dressing. I buy what I want to buy. It's none of your business."

This excited the store manager even more, and she urged him to take pictures once he dressed up. She wanted to see.

So, Nick found the store manager rather persistent and couldn't help but contemplate dragging her out from behind the counter and placing her under a hydraulic press for being so nosy. But he decided not to bring up the matter of the new employees until Liz approached him again in a subdued tone.

Nick picked up the plastic bag and left the store, passing through the automatic doors as the store manager watched with a mischievous expression. He returned home, a five-minute walk away.

He took everything out of the bag one by one, storing some items in the refrigerator, breaking down others to fit into empty drawers, and leaving a few items beside Liz. After completing these tasks, he started making breakfast. However, the variety of breakfast options in the Eastern cities was limited, and he wasn't in the mood for complex dishes. He simply added sugar to hot milk, fried an egg, and poured a can of tomato and bean stew over a slice of toast before it went bad. It wasn't very flavorful or delicious, but for Nick, it provided adequate nutrition and a satisfying meal. At this point, it was 9:30 a.m., and Nick didn't intend to let Liz continue occupying the couch, which only he typically enjoyed. So, he used an ice cube that was discreetly placed in the sleeve of his short-sleeved shirt to wake her up.

Liz rolled around for a while, almost causing Nick to see more than he should have. She wasn't overly eye-catching in terms of her figure; everything about her was just right. Just right in Nick's eyes, just right in her movements, and just right in the way she reacted as she realized she was half-naked in front of a stranger. She eventually recalled the common sense she should have, but rather than slapping Nick, she offered a breathless apology first, saying, "I'm sorry."

Nick thought she might cry again and quickly handed her the change of clothes he had prepared, then moved to the dining area, sliding the frosted glass door, which couldn't be seen through no matter how hard one tried. Liz heard the door closing and perceived a hint of panic in the man's footsteps. At that moment, her curiosity about the eyes that had continuously grown more intriguing since the previous night was sparked. However, this emotional state only lasted for a few seconds. She began to breathe deeply and put on the somewhat oversized, clean, short-sleeved shirt. It had a different scent than the new one, a pleasant soapy smell, quite ordinary but difficult not to make one wonder if it had been worn by him.

Liz made her way to the dining area and silently ate her meal. Afterward, she again lowered her head to express gratitude towards the man. Her features were like two wooden carvings that hadn't been sanded down, appearing slightly rough, not too long or too short, nearly poking Nick's plate. Nick didn't want his purchased tableware to shatter for such a ridiculous reason, so he answered while pushing her head to the side, though he might have brushed against a part of a girl's hair during the process; it was just a moment. It was something he never remembered in the many years to come, but Liz recalled that unusual feeling herself. She sat in silence on the chair, watching him, as if waiting for Nick to say something, to pass judgment on her actions.

Eventually, Nick was defeated by the look in her eyes, not asking her about the decision she had made regarding the options he provided her last night. He had a soft heart, though he rarely admitted it. It wasn't embarrassing, but in today's world, people found it peculiar, and Nick simply wasn't used to such peculiarities. So, he decided to keep quiet about his true nature. Liz was a somewhat simple girl who didn't ask questions without his permission. Nick unexpectedly found her likable and thought that they might get along well in various roles in the future.

In other words, no matter what she planned to do, Nick was determined to share some skills with her. This way, even if she ended up back on the streets or faced hardships again, she wouldn't starve.

He washed his hands and mixed flour with sugar and salt. He poured softened butter and water into the mixture, kneading it into a dough. At the same time, he instructed Liz to pay attention to her measurements and techniques and not get distracted. Nick was particularly serious when it came to making desserts, just as serious as he used to be when planning various strategies at work. He liked it, and his dedication to it often exceeded his intentions. Coupled with the face that hadn't shown much emotion to Liz yet, he seemed to exude an inexplicable sense of pressure and maturity, making her nervous.

However, the process of making puff pastry was more complicated and prone to failure. Applying too much force could cause the butter to leak out, or an uneven thickness could lead to poor baking results. Liz's results alternated between these two issues, occasionally achieving some success. But before Nick could say a word of praise, her nervousness and confusion would lead to imprecision, resulting in another failure, wasting the relatively expensive butter and sugar. For a newbie like Liz, who was unaccustomed to pastry making, she thought she might be subjected to a harsh scolding by Nick, or at the very least, harsh words that would raise her blood pressure. However, Nick didn't do that. Instead, he would simply point out areas for improvement and various methods to solve the problem, sitting behind her, not playing with his phone or reading, just watching her.

Liz had never seen a stranger be so patient with her. In her 19 years of life, even her parents had difficulty hiding their disappointment and low expectations due to her slow reactions and lack of manual skills. She was well aware that she wasn't a clever child. The only way she could keep up with others without falling behind was to try harder and try even harder, but in a modern society, the harsh reality was that no one was willing to wait for someone who put in double the effort yet made slow progress. Liz had already grown accustomed to this, but she also knew that incremental change could lead to a qualitative transformation. So, with Nick's casual guidance and almost "hands-off" approach, her success eventually became stable, something she could consistently achieve even after multiple attempts.

Nick said, "You see, you're not useless at all. Some things are not about talent but effort. They are like jam on plain bread – they make it better, but losing them or not having them doesn't leave us hopeless. But the bread can fill every hungry day, even without the jam."

He took the latest piece of puff pastry from Liz and bit into it, making a crackling sound as he chewed. It carried the fragrance of milk and a subtle buttery richness, with a hint of salt to enhance the flavors. Everything about it was almost perfect, a finished product that couldn't be criticized even if it were sold. He was very satisfied, even though he had eaten to his heart's content with the less successful pastries Liz had made earlier. He had saved some space for this result.

After finishing, Nick wiped his hands and said, "I'm sorry for always giving lectures. It's my bad habit – I like showing off and appearing skilled. But it's not good, so don't learn from me. If you ever find it annoying, just tell me directly. I'll try to change my bad habits."

Liz blinked, and she actually wanted to ask Nick how he knew. She hadn't said a word from start to finish, only offering responses like "I understand" and "I'm sorry." Yet it seemed like he could read her mind, understand her emotions and thoughts, and offer her just the right amount of support and encouragement. However, this time, Nick didn't seem to notice. Perhaps it was because he had just reflected on his own unclear and self-aware habits, which only he knew about. He had consciously chosen not to pay any more attention or observe this young woman, who was quite easy to understand, yet not that easy to understand.

He went to the refrigerator to get some soda and beer, no longer saying much. It was nearing noon, and he needed to prepare lunch. Of course, the cost of the ingredients would be deducted from his later earnings.

The young woman named Liz felt the sensation of carbon dioxide bubbles bursting on her tongue, causing a tingling and faint pain. She once again directed her gaze towards the man who was drinking beer while reading the recipe. He seemed to her like a character from a fairy tale who might turn into a raven, mysterious and elegant, hard to define as cold or warm. However, he didn't seem particularly handsome; he was just ordinary, but with an unusual level of skill and delicacy that was not typical for his age. It was as if his bearing revealed an enigmatic depth.

The man raised his head and suddenly asked her what she was looking at. Liz felt a bit uneasy and replied that she was looking at the decorations on the table. However, she also admitted that she was tired and had zoned out for a moment.

Nick leaned on his hand, sweeping his gaze over her, and asked casually, "You've been looking for quite a while. Is it nice to look at?"

Liz opened her mouth and then closed it, finally dropping her gaze. She seemed to be avoiding his somewhat ambiguous gaze.

"It's very fascinating," she said.

Liz also added without much thought, "I could probably look at it for a very long time without getting tired of it."

He wore an "I see" expression and then offered sincerely, "Should I get you one?"

She touched her flushed ear and casually replied, "I'm afraid I wouldn't mean it."

Nick chuckled silently.

"Well, we can think about it later," he said with a light push of her shoulder. "If you're tired, you should go to sleep.