ANGEL Chapter 1: Courtship Preparations

“Xiao Yu-gege!”

A childish, girlish voice came from outside the door.

Zeng Yu paused his work. With a swift push of his toes against the ground, the skateboard beneath him rolled smoothly out from under the car.

“Coming.”

His low voice curled out alongside the last remnants of the air conditioning. Oil-stained sneakers emerged next, followed by long fingers that pressed against the half-open rolling shutter, pushing it up with practiced ease.

The late summer sunlight clung stubbornly, rushing to climb all over Zeng Yu as he stepped out. Squinting against the glare, he lifted a hand to wipe the sweat from the tip of his nose, only to realize too late that his hands were smeared with oil, leaving a dark smudge across his face.

The little girl pointed at him and giggled, “Xiao Yu-gege, you look like Youtiao now!”

Youtiao was the name of a cat that had lived on this street for five years. It had a knack for feigning misery to earn sympathy, earning it the nickname “Old Youtiao.”

The cat was snow-white except for a dark patch on its nose, which gave it a perpetually fierce look. True to its reputation, it had quickly risen to become the local feline kingpin.

Zeng Yu wasn’t as lucky. Though he’d lived here for five years as well, he was still scraping by.

Squatting down, he pinched the tires of the girl’s bike and grabbed a pump to inflate them.

“All done.”

“Thank you, Xiao Yu-gege!”

“No problem.”

The little girl rummaged through her bike basket and handed Zeng Yu a tissue. “Gege, wipe your face.”

“Thanks.”

Taking the tissue, Zeng Yu didn’t clean his nose but instead carefully wiped his fingers clean before tightening the strap on her helmet.

He glanced lightly toward the group of kids waiting at the end of the street. “Go on.”

“Bye-bye, Xiao Yu-gege!”

Their cheerful laughter echoed down the street, as carefree and bright as a school bell. Even the birds perched in the trees took off in response.

Zeng Yu turned back inside, intending to finish tightening the last screw before clocking out.

Sliding back under the car, he reached the final step—only to realize the nut was missing.

“…Great.”

He spent ages with a flashlight searching, eventually finding it teetering by the edge of a storm drain.

Finally done, Zeng Yu crawled back out and checked his phone. The agreed pick-up time had long passed, but the car owner hadn’t shown up or left any messages.

Zeng Yu sent a text to follow up. A reply came a few minutes later: Ill’ pick it up tomorrow.

A faint, almost imperceptible breath of relief escaped him.

By now, the sky outside was darkening. Zeng Yu washed his face, turned off the lights, locked the door, and snapped a picture of the old repair shop before heading out.

The shop’s owner, Jiang Guang, was a cautious man. After the shop was burgled once due to an unlocked door, he’d developed a habit of requiring photographic proof that everything was secure. This habit had since been passed on to Zeng Yu, even though Jiang Guang had effectively handed over the shop.

Jiang Guang: “Knocking off early today? New variety show?”

Zeng Yu: “Mm.”

The only perk of running the repair shop was the freedom to leave whenever he wanted. But Zeng Yu needed to save money, so he usually worked long hours. Once a week, though, he gave himself an early night for one of his few hobbies: watching variety shows.

The new show aired every Saturday at 6 pm. It was already 6:18 when Zeng Yu pocketed his phone and walked along the street, sticking to his plan to buy groceries.

The streetlights were so dim they were practically useless, leaving the shop signs to illuminate the road with colorful glows that cast sharp, angular shadows across Zeng Yu’s face.

A guy at the phone repair shop, bored and scrolling through short videos, waved lazily. “Off work already?”

Zeng Yu nodded lightly. “Mm.” He didn’t break his stride.

His face was perpetually expressionless, his half-lidded eyes hiding their depth and making their shape appear long and narrow—cold.

When Zeng Yu first moved to the street, the neighbors thought he was aloof. Over time, they realized he wasn’t cold—just indifferent.

His words were indifferent, his expression indifferent. He barely made an impression.

He was undeniably good-looking and kind-hearted, but he had the misfortune of being a bit unlucky.

Thud.

A loose tile sank beneath his step, nearly sending him sprawling.

“Whoa, you okay?” The repair guy craned his neck in concern. “Watch your step!”

“I’m fine.” Zeng Yu looked around, then dragged over a trash bin to cover the broken tile.

It worked well enough and didn’t block the path. The guy gave Zeng Yu’s retreating figure a thumbs-up.

The grocery store at the end of the street looked dark from afar.

Zeng Yu paused, then walked over, confirming his suspicion when he saw a “Closed for Renovations” sign.

The store had been a fixture of the street longer than even the repair shop, but in recent years, it had been closed more often for renovations. Missing it today wasn’t surprising.

Zeng Yu stood at the corner for a moment, then turned toward the market instead.

By evening, the wet market’s produce was neither fresh nor plentiful, which was why Zeng Yu usually preferred the grocery store. Tonight, he had wanted to prepare a nice meal to go with the new variety show and then sleep soundly.

In the end, he bought a small bag of noodles and the last of the ribs before cutting through the market to the back street.

To the left was the main street, to the right, an apartment complex. Zeng Yu turned right, swiped his card, and entered the gate.

Neatly trimmed bushes lined the main path, where elderly residents strolled and children played. The noise was lively but comforting.

Zeng Yu sometimes thought about retiring to a place like this.

Unit Five was tucked in the back. He turned onto a side path, the dim yellow light stretching his shadow out in front of him—until it reached a patch of yellow that brought him to a stop.

The sky had completely darkened, and the people strolling outside had gradually returned home. Silence quickly settled over the surroundings.

Zeng Yu glanced back—no one was there. He turned forward again, lowering his eyes to stare at the banana peel in the middle of the road. He pursed his lips.

This was the third time.

Zeng Yu couldn’t help but wonder if someone was stalking him and playing pranks.

The first time was the day before yesterday. While buying steamed buns in the morning, he slipped on a banana peel and fell into a dirty puddle in front of a group of elderly onlookers.

The second time was yesterday. At noon, while delivering lunch to a limping granny, he stepped on a banana peel crossing the street and crashed into a lamppost.

It did sound quite unlucky, but the key point was that Zeng Yu was certain he had noticed the banana peels both times and deliberately avoided them.

Zeng Yu took a deep breath.

This time, he fixed his gaze on the banana peel, cautiously approached it, bent down, and threw it into the trash can.

Afterward, he walked carefully with each step, finally reaching his apartment building’s entrance safe and sound.

Zeng Yu let out a long sigh of relief.

He swiped his access card, opened the door, and stepped inside. As the motion-sensor light turned on, he took a step—and slipped.

“…” Zeng Yu looked at the banana peel stuck to the sole of his shoe, his face expressionless.

His tailbone hit the hard floor, and it hurt a little, but it wasn’t serious. He sat there for a moment as the light timer ran out and the sensor turned off.

In the darkness, the green glow of the emergency exit sign was his only source of light. Zeng Yu stared at it in a daze, his brows slowly furrowing.

He had always had bad luck, but these past three days were downright bizarre.

Suddenly, the motion-sensor light turned on again, interrupting Zeng Yu’s thoughts.

He looked up—and there stood a person, catching him completely off guard.

The man was tall, with extremely pale skin. Dressed in a crisp shirt and trousers, he exuded a perfect broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted silhouette.

Blonde-haired and blue-eyed, he had the classic appearance of a Nordic heartthrob—a face you couldn’t forget even in this ordinary small town.

Zeng Yu hadn’t forgotten.

A few days ago, he had been drinking on the rooftop, almost falling asleep in his drunken stupor, when someone had suddenly stumbled into his arms. It was this handsome guy.

Only, back then, this guy didn’t have wings.

The motion-sensor light emitted a warm yellow glow, outlining the pair of white feathered wings with golden edges. The dreary gray staircase suddenly looked like a path to heaven.

Zeng Yu stared blankly. The wings were enormous, and the feathers at the tips drooped down, brushing lightly against his face.

The tickling sensation made him flinch away. At the same time, the feathers retreated, pulled back by their owner.

The handsome guy grabbed his wings and angled them backward as if embarrassed.

For half a second, neither of them said a word. Then the handsome guy’s cheeks turned red. He bit his lip and extended a hand toward Zeng Yu, his blue eyes filled with cautious hope.

The gesture was clearly meant to help Zeng Yu up, but Zeng Yu didn’t react immediately, frozen in place.

Under his gaze, the guy blushed even harder. Suddenly, his eyes lit up, and he withdrew his hand to stand at attention.

He looked nervous, sneaking glances at Zeng Yu. Clearing his throat softly, he raised his chin and puffed out his chest. Then, using a hand to smooth back the curls on his forehead, he fully revealed his face.

He slightly pressed his lips together, the corners lifting into a smile. After showing off his front profile, he turned to display his right side.

He turned in a full circle. For no discernible reason.

Zeng Yu had already gotten up by the time he turned around.

The handsome guy froze for a moment, then looked down at Zeng Yu. His lips moved as if he wanted to say something.

But his ears and neck turned redder and redder. Covering his face with one hand, he quickly averted his eyes and sidled away.

“I—I went to the wrong place!”

Zeng Yu turned to look, bewildered, only to see the guy disappearing into the night in an instant.

The wrong place?

He said the same thing last time.

Zeng Yu pulled out his phone and sent a message to the property management: [There’s a suspicious foreigner in Unit Five. Blonde hair, blue eyes, cosplaying, speaks Chinese. Not sure if he lives here—please keep an eye out.]