"It's pasta."

"Terrifying pasta! Jiang Cheng, help!"

"There are no mals, I checked."

"Jiang Cheng!"

He scoops pasta into Nie Huaisang's bowl. "See? No mals. Safe."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, Jiang Cheng, you're the best shidi in the world--"

"Fuck off."

Why is Shanghai so weird. Marcy has been writing an essay while horrible wall-sitting and does not have time for this. She stands a bit too close and reaches an arm around the cowardly boy to grab the pasta scoop as a thinly veiled reminder not to hold up the line. "Excuse me."

"Sorry!" Cowardly Boy says in English, with an accent best described as "sexily exotic."

Pasta get. "Apology accepted."

"If I don't get vegetables I could get sick, Jiang Cheng!"

"It's all nutrient paste, dumbass."

"I still feel healthier when I have vegetables."

Vegetables scooped ANGRILY onto plate.

What is stopping this child from scooping his own vegetables. Sympathetic glance for Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng glares at her like he'd like to do a murder.

Yeah, if she was having this problem and someone noticed she'd hate them too. But if they didn't want to be noticed they should be easier to ignore. She contemplates the baked beans, decides she doesn't like the shine on them and goes for a biscuit.

Jiang Cheng silently grabs a piece of meat for Nie Huaisang without him asking.