WRA CH70

Chapter 70: Did You Start a Family at the Construction Site?

Dou Manning’s coffee stall had an operating cost of 30 yuan a day, which meant he had to bring in at least 40 yuan in daily revenue.

Buy-one-get-one-free was fine; discounts were not.

Shen Ku fell silent. Did he look like the kind of man who would hit on a shop owner just to get a discount?

No.

He wasn’t hitting on him.

He was merely offering what little help he could to a civil engineering graduate, purely out of his experience as a chief project engineer.

If the other party didn’t need it, Shen Ku was by nature a man of few words and a pragmatic doer.

“Just one cup is fine.”

“Please wait a moment.” Dou Manning set the book on the chair, turning around to make coffee.

He had bought an Italian high-pressure espresso machine. Put coffee beans in, extract the concentrated coffee liquid.

It had cost ten thousand yuan—a capital-intensive operation.

Dou Manning operated it with gentle, fluid motions. Because he hadn’t purchased a matching counter, he had merely cobbled together a table using bricks and wooden planks scavenged from the site. It sat rather low, requiring him to lean forward slightly when grinding coffee beans.

Shen Ku’s gaze shifted uprightly away from the shopkeeper’s slender frame, landing on the Construction Engineering textbook flipped open by the wind on the chair.

The name “Zhao Qing” was written on the title page.

Is that his name?

“All done.” Dou Manning poured out the coffee, a layer of golden-brown crema floating atop the liquid. He noticed his customer’s expression seemed a bit anxious—was it because he worked too slowly? He would have to be faster next time.

Shen Ku noticed he poured out almost pure, unadulterated espresso extract without adding any ice cubes, and commented, “You can add more water.”

Dou Manning: “Adding water doesn’t fit my brand positioning.”

Selling for forty yuan naturally came with forty yuan worth of value; he wouldn’t be like shady merchants packing half a cup with ice cubes.

Making coffee was just like mixing cement and sand on a construction site; adding too much sand was cutting corners.

Workers should be very sensitive to cutting corners, right? He came to buy coffee, not water.

Dou Manning firmly rebutted the customer’s probing: “It has always been of this quality.”

Shen Ku: “…” Quite stubborn too.

On Dou Manning’s face, Shen Ku read the attitude of: Though this hut is humble, here I reign supreme, looking as if all coffee in the world ought to take him as the benchmark.

Tactfully, he held his tongue.

Carrying the coffee back to the construction site, he didn’t drink it; he just wanted to patronize the business.

A faint, lingering aroma of bitter coffee drifted around him, stirring up a restless urge in his blood. Yet the insomnia from yesterday had also been very real.

During the noon break, Engineer Shen stared at his blueprints until, finally yielding as if in surrender, he picked up the coffee and took a sip.

His taste buds’ first reaction was sheer bitterness, but the aroma was deeply intoxicating.

Ever since pulling all-nighters drafting blueprints in college, Shen Ku had drunk countless cups of coffee, yet not a single one possessed such an extraordinary aroma.

One of a kind, seeping deep into his dreams.

In his dreams, it wasn’t bitter at all, leaving only a lingering fragrance between his lips and teeth.

At noon the next day, when Shen Ku bought coffee, he carried a stack of prep books he had used when taking the Level-1 Constructor exam. “You can take a look at these past exam papers.”

Dou Manning accepted them gladly. It was the first time a human had gifted him books. Flipping through them slightly, he noticed an immense amount of complex calculations. One glance was enough to tell the owner’s math, physics, and chemistry were exceptional—an impressive engineering student!

Back when he attended school, he had thought engineering was terrifyingly hard. Humans truly invented such difficult things just to torment themselves.

Admiration gleaming in his eyes, Dou Manning said gratefully, “I’ll read them from cover to cover. Thank you. Today’s coffee is on the house.”

“No need. They were meant for the recycling pile anyway.” Watching Dou Manning clasp his old books to his chest, Shen Ku felt a wave of heat wash through his own.

Dou Manning hurriedly made him a cup of coffee: “Sorry for the wait.”

From then on, whenever Shen Ku bought coffee at noon, he would see Dou Manning engrossed in his books.

Long, curly hair draped over the pages, his ruby lips parting and closing slightly as if silently reciting formulas.

He looked very clever and diligent. He should be able to pass at least two subjects this year, right?

Dou Manning had completely memorized the exact time Shen Ku came for coffee, preparing it in advance every time so as not to waste his time.

The moment Shen Ku arrived, he would hand it over, then lower his eyes to read with redoubled earnestness—demonstrating that he treated his customer’s gift with utmost respect. In his heart, he had already come to view Shen Ku as a friend.

He couldn’t recite the formulas aloud because he didn’t know how to pronounce those Latin and Greek letters.

Yet he could already reproduce them accurately from memory.

Seeing this, Shen Ku refrained from disturbing him; the exam was in September, and this exam was of paramount importance to Dou Manning.

A tacit understanding seemed to form between the two: one silently paid, the other handed over the coffee, without any need for superfluous communication.

Shen Ku had never encountered someone like this before: no phone scrolling, no socializing, serene and tranquil. From afar, he seemed like an ethereal celestial being; up close, his features were infinitely gentle.

Whenever he arrived, the youth would simply smile softly and hand over a cup of coffee.

Any words felt redundant.

On the tenth day, Shen Ku finally couldn’t help but break the ice: “If there’s anything you don’t understand, you can ask me.”

Dou Manning lifted his dark pupils, hesitation flickering within. There were far too many parts he didn’t understand—where should he even begin?

After a brief internal struggle, he pointed to a formula on the page: “Here.”

Shen Ku swiftly stepped forward, his adrenaline spiking as he looked at the page. “The price variance reserve involves three levels of exponential compounding, so the calculation is relatively complex…”

He reached his hand out toward Dou Manning, who handed him a pen.

Shen Ku circled values on the case study problem with rapid strokes. His heart pounded wildly the entire time; Engineer Shen, who usually breezed through exams with effortless mastery, actually had a slightly trembling pen stroke right now.

Dou Manning listened with full concentration, his gaze tracking the movement of Shen Ku’s pen tip so as not to lose track of which sentence he was explaining.

There was no air conditioning in the iron shack, but the mid-May sun was still bearable.

It was just that the two were standing far too close together. Shen Ku could clearly smell the bitter fragrance of coffee radiating from the other’s fingers. Probably because these hands ground coffee beans so often, this natural bodily scent felt even more primal than the liquid coffee—an earthy, herbal aroma released by sweet, fresh berries.

Ten minutes later, sweat dampened Shen Ku’s palms and temples: “Did I explain it clearly?”

“Very clearly, I understood completely,” Dou Manning praised. “Your voice sounds very nice, very standardized.”

The coffee Yao had now fully mastered the pronunciation of every single letter on that page.

Shen Ku had helped him tremendously.

Shen Ku took a deep breath. What did he mean by praising his voice for sounding nice…?

Dou Manning: “You should hurry back. If you’re late, the foreman will scold you.”

“Okay.” Shen Ku took a breath. They had exchanged quite a few sentences today; his next question probably wouldn’t be considered overly presumptuous, right?

Shen Ku: “May I ask you a question?”

Dou Manning: “Go ahead.”

Shen Ku: “How do you eat your meals every day?”

Dou Manning looked up at the blue sky and the distant industrial plant buildings. “I… I cook for myself. There’s a rice cooker in the back.”

In reality, he only cooked once every two days or so. He had hoarded starches that didn’t spoil easily—sweet potatoes, taros, pumpkins, and potatoes—steaming one whenever he felt like eating.

Shen Ku deduced that Dou Manning’s nutrition was atrocious.

“There’s a cafeteria on site. How about I pack a boxed meal for you at lunch from now on? Cooking stir-fries yourself is too much trouble.”

How could he accept that? “No reward without merit.” Auntie Guihua had warned that when venturing outside, one must never eat things given by others without reason. If you foolishly took them and ate, people would know at a glance that you weren’t smart.

Dou Manning wanted to appear clever in front of Shen Ku.

Dou Manning stood up, righteous and resolute: “No, I cannot eat it.”

Shen Ku felt deflated; Dou Manning’s sense of boundaries had always been remarkably rigid.

“Actually, I’m just a picky eater. I don’t like eating the site’s boxed meals. I cook my own private meals and don’t want to waste this portion.”

With his 1.9-meter height and heavily developed arm, shoulder, and back muscles, his credibility when claiming to be a “picky eater” was exactly zero.

In the eyes of his fellow workers, Engineer Shen’s taste buds had simply been poisoned into malfunction by that coffee.

Yet Dou Manning actually believed him.

Because on the entire construction site, only Shen Ku bought coffee; Shen Ku’s tastes were bound to be unconventional.

“Alright, then give me whatever you can’t finish.”

A weight dropped from Shen Ku’s heart. Dou Manning was truly far too thin, frail and delicate.

After that, he brought Dou Manning boxed meals every noon and evening without fail: three dishes and a soup, two meats and one vegetable. While not high-end luxury, he always hand-picked the best dishes available.

He would bring back a cup of coffee from Dou Manning each time—most days four cups, falsely claiming he was purchasing them on behalf of fellow workers.

Once the refrigerator was packed full, Shen Ku donated the coffee to the cafeteria free of charge—

Four cups of coffee could be diluted into a massive metal vat. Adding sugar and milk, the entire construction site got to drink it, proving far more popular than the cafeteria’s seaweed egg-drop soup.

After getting their meals, workers would grab an extra bowl and ladle a scoop of coffee from the metal vat on their way out.

Say what you will, free coffee tasted pretty damn good—not watery at all!

Engineer Shen truly was generous.

On a weekend evening, Shen Ku drove his dust-caked Hummer off the construction site, heading home for dinner.

In the cup holder of the center console sat half a cup of coffee.

Father Shen’s sixtieth birthday was celebrated grandly, organized by Eldest Brother Shen; Shen Ku merely had to show up.

Seeing her youngest son who had rooted himself on construction sites ever since graduation, Mother Shen was both exasperated and affectionate: “Why on earth do you love suffering so much! If your brother hadn’t told me, I wouldn’t even know you’d transferred back! The moment you return, you bolt straight to that site of yours!”

Bitter? Suffering? The coffee wasn’t bitter at all.

As long as he drank it every day, he had built up a caffeine tolerance and no longer suffered insomnia from it.

On the contrary, when he spent an entire day checking building materials outside and stayed elsewhere, missing his daily cup, he tossed and turned all night instead.

Seeing her youngest son clutching coffee even at a birthday banquet, assuming he had to work overtime drafting blueprints tonight, Mother Shen said with heartache, “Can that coffee sustain your life or something, drinking it every single day?! I never agreed with you applying for civil engineering back then. If only you’d studied finance like your brother…”

“…” What use was finance? If he studied finance, could he explain to Dou Manning what economic equipment life or equivalent annual annuities were?

Eldest Brother Shen stopped Mother Shen from bringing up old grievances, looking at Shen Ku suspiciously: “Don’t tell me you started a family at the construction site?”

He had been staying at the site for far too long lately. His brother used to be very particular about his quality of life; unless strictly necessary, he never slept in a container shack at night, preferring to drive half an hour to stay at a hotel.

Mother Shen froze, the tears in her eyes instantly vanishing: “Really? Are there photos? Are there girls on construction sites too? Did she go to college?”

Shen Ku: “You’re overthinking.” He is a college student.

Eldest Brother Shen joked, “Don’t tell me you’re poaching someone from a married site couple.”

Shen Ku was speechless. Was he that kind of person?

There were plenty of temporary couples on construction sites acting as third parties for one another. Shen Ku had seen it often, yet harbored zero tolerance or fondness for it.

If someone had a family, how could one disregard basic decency and be a homewrecker?

“Really not?” Eldest Brother Shen said. “Dad arranged a blind date for you tonight, you know.”

Shen Ku finished the rest of his coffee, his gaze resolute: “Block it for me. I need to get back to work.”

Eldest Brother Shen: “Leaving already?”

Shen Ku: “Busy.”

Dou Manning lived alone in that iron shack at night; Shen Ku had to be stationed on the site to have any peace of mind.

That day, just as Dou Manning was preparing to pack up the stall, the site foreman came over to smoke a cigarette, chatting casually: “How much do you make in a day?”

Dou Manning knew this foreman, because his corrugated-iron shack had been leased from him.

The foreman was very shrewd. Calling it a prime location, he calculated water, electricity, and foot traffic, finally charging him thirty yuan a day in rent.

That was why Dou Manning was always telling Shen Ku to hurry back to work, because this foreman was penny-pinching and calculative.

Dou Manning was shrewd too: “Not much.” He certainly wouldn’t tell the foreman he made one to two hundred a day, lest he raise the rent.

Foreman: “Then why don’t you come work as a general laborer for two days? I’ll pay you two hundred a day.”

A torrential rainstorm was on its way, and the site had to rush the exterior facade work. They were short on hands to haul cement, and the foreman thought of this shopkeeper outside—when signing the lease, he had seen Dou Manning pry loose a wooden plank nailed into the concrete floor with a single hand.

Two hundred?

Dou Manning was somewhat tempted. Besides, this way he could be coworkers with Shen Ku for a day. The site had strict security management requiring facial recognition scans; unauthorized personnel were barred from entry.

He really wanted to see what Shen Ku looked like while working.

Which trade did Shen Ku belong to? Electrician? Plumber? Pouring concrete?

“Sure, alright.” After all, a Yao had plenty of strength to spare.