Nightmare Onslaught - Chapter 22 - The Qipao1

The only downside was that Jiang Cheng almost never cooked, so the kitchen didn’t even have a proper kitchen knife, just a dull fruit knife.

This made it impossible to prepare certain dishes with precision, but Fatty figured Jiang Cheng wouldn’t mind.

After finishing all the preparations, Fatty walked out of the kitchen.

He picked up his tools again and continued to wrap up the remaining repairs in the mostly tidied-up studio.

He grabbed a screwdriver from who-knows-where and tightened the loose screws on the standing clothes rack, then gently tapped the joints with a hammer to make them fit more snugly.

Finally, he wrapped a layer of black adhesive tape around it.

Just as Fatty was shaking the rack to test its stability, he suddenly noticed a slightly blue-colored garment hanging in the very center of the rack.

It was easy to miss if you didn’t look closely.

Pushing aside the nearby clothes, he was surprised to find that it was actually a blue qipao.

It had a high collar, short sleeves, and was made of silk, with exquisite craftsmanship.

There were also a few peony-style embroideries on it, clearly indicating it was an expensive piece. Up close, he could even catch a faint, elegant fragrance.

This was undoubtedly a woman’s garment.

Fatty’s interest was instantly piqued.

At that moment, the sound of footsteps echoed from the stairs, and a few seconds later, Jiang Cheng came down carrying a large bucket of clothes.

As he descended, he ran straight into Fatty, who had a peculiar expression on his face.

“What are you doing?” Jiang Cheng asked, holding the bucket, which was so full that the clothes were almost spilling out. He had to tilt his head to look at Fatty.

“Doctor,” Fatty said with the kind of mischievous tone men often use when sharing gossip, “I found a qipao on your clothes rack!”

“Huh?” Jiang Cheng frowned.

“A blue one, with a slit up to here!” Fatty gestured with his hands, as if he had discovered something groundbreaking.

There was no malice in his tone. To Fatty, everything about Jiang Cheng was fresh and mysterious, like the thrill of accidentally stumbling upon someone’s secret.

Jiang Cheng’s expression grew serious, which only made Fatty more satisfied. He was used to being outsmarted by Jiang Cheng, so finally having the upper hand felt like a small victory.

He suddenly began to look forward to Jiang Cheng’s explanation.

“Only one?” Jiang Cheng put down the bucket of clothes and started rummaging through it. “That’s not right. There should also be a pink fitted one and a white fringed shawl,” Jiang Cheng looked up and stared at Fatty. “Keep looking.”

Fatty: “???”

Jiang Cheng then flipped the large bucket of clothes upside down, and Fatty froze for a moment before his pupils suddenly dilated.

If Pi Ruan had shattered his worldview, this scene now ground Fatty’s barely reassembled worldview into dust.

As the bucket was overturned, the clothes inside tumbled out. Fatty glanced at them briefly-most were women’s clothes, of all kinds and styles. A simple qipao like the one he’d found was nothing out of the ordinary.

Only then did Fatty fully realize the kind of person he was dealing with.

He had underestimated Jiang Cheng. Not only could this man facilitate a “pure love” between someone like Pi Ruan and a wealthy woman, but he also seemed to have a charitable streak that bordered on self-sacrifice.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” Jiang Cheng asked.

Fatty took a deep breath, silently returned the clothes on the rack to their original positions, and covered the qipao. Then he looked at Jiang Cheng and said, “Doctor, I think either I’m approaching this the wrong way, or the world has gone mad.”

Jiang Cheng’s eyes rolled as he spoke, “I think you might be misunderstanding. These clothes don’t belong to the kind of people you’re imagining. I’m not Pi Ruan-I have my principles.”

Fatty covered his face, thinking to himself, Just shut up already.

But of course, he couldn’t say that out loud. Fatty took a moment to calm himself and then asked, “Then whose clothes are these?”

He paused, as if realizing something, and his expression suddenly brightened. “They’re your girlfriend’s, right?” After saying this, Fatty felt a slight twinge of embarrassment.

Honestly, that was the most normal and reasonable answer. What on earth had he been thinking?

To be fair, Jiang Cheng was quite good-looking. As long as he kept his mouth shut, he seemed like a perfectly normal person.

And he had a respectable, decent job.

“No,” Jiang Cheng shook his head. “They’re my landlord’s. She’s also my boss. These are clothes she left here.”

Fatty shuddered, and the way he looked at Jiang Cheng changed dramatically. Suddenly, he felt like the entire world had gone off the rails.

Jiang Cheng ignored him, gathered the scattered clothes from the floor, and carried the bucket to the bathroom, where there was an oversized front-loading washing machine.

After leaving the bathroom, Jiang Cheng walked over to the clothes rack and took down the blue qipao.

He looked around for a while but still couldn’t find the two other pieces of clothing he’d mentioned. Clicking his tongue in frustration, he walked away.

Soon, the sound of the washing machine starting up came from the bathroom.

Whether it was because too many clothes had been stuffed in at once or because the machine was too old, the sound was dull and heavy, making one wonder if it could even clean the clothes properly.

Fatty walked alone to the door, opened it, and silently lit a cigarette, holding it between his lips. His eyes were distant and filled with confusion.

While the washing machine was running, Jiang Cheng took out the now-empty bucket of clothes and placed it by the stairs.

Worried it might block the narrow staircase, he gave it a gentle kick to move it closer to the corner.

As he turned around, he caught sight of Fatty’s melancholy and lost profile, a face that seemed to carry countless untold stories.

“Fatty,” Jiang Cheng said casually, “I smell the ribs. Can you check if they’re done?”

Hearing this, Fatty flicked away the cigarette butt and turned to walk into the kitchen. As he passed Jiang Cheng, he paused for a few seconds, his lips twitching as if he wanted to say something but ultimately held back.

Soon, the rich aroma of meat filled the air. Fatty returned, holding a steaming soup pot with a cloth, and Jiang Cheng had already placed another cloth on the table.

The pot was set down perfectly on the cloth, and then Fatty brought out a plate of Hot and Sour Shredded Potatoes and two large bowls of rice.

Footnote:

1. Qipao(旗袍):The qipao, also known as cheongsam, is a traditional Chinese dress for women. It features a high collar, form-fitting silhouette, and often has slits on the sides. Originating from the 1920s in Shanghai, it combines elegance and modernity, and is typically made from silk with intricate patterns.