A-Ta took a sip, nodded in approval, then downed the entire cup in one go.

  “Who drinks coffee like that? Do you think you′re chugging alcohol?” I scolded him, half exasperated and half amused.

  “Ah, sorry! Please give me another cup!” He actually put on a very apologetic expression and added, “This time, I'll pay for it.”

  “This won't do. You're not acting manly enough. Come on, repeat after me.” I shook my head seriously, determined to teach him some backbone.

  A-Ta nodded without hesitation, his earnest expression making me want to smack him.

  "You mind your own damn business! This is just how I am—stuffing cake into my mouth and gulping down coffee!" I snapped.

  "Y-you mind your own—your own damn business… This is just how I am—stuffing cake into my mouth and gulping down coffee," A-Tasaid said shyly.

  "What's so special about treating someone to a coffee? You think I can't afford it? Wipe that sour look off your face!" I barked even louder, gripping my left palm with my right hand as if I were about to hit someone.

  "What's so special about treating someone to a coffee? You think I can't afford it? Wipe that sour look off your face!"

  A-Ta finally caught on to what I meant and did his best to put on a fierce expression.

  I smmed the table hard—BANG!

  A-Ta smmed the table hard—BANG!

  Then we gnced at each other and burst into ughter at the same time.

  "That's about it. You have to learn how to lose your temper, or people will walk all over you until you can't even lift your head."

  I chuckled and patted A-Ta on the shoulder.

  "Thank you, I'll remember that," A-Tasaid said as he stood up.

  Then, once again, his overwhelming internal strength surged through my hands, making them tingle painfully.

  Two days ter, I ran into A-Ta again on my way home from work.

  That day was a weekend, so there was no school. Originally, the boss had pnned to close early since she was heading back to her hometown, Changhua, to have dinner with some friends. But somehow, we still ended up working until 8 p.m.

  The reason for the dey?

  A chatty middle-aged woman had ordered the boss's special blend. She said she'd read the menu and figured the boss must share the same interest as her—exaggerated, endless conversations—so she excitedly ordered a drink just to banter with her.

  Albus and I exchanged gnces. That was the first time we'd ever seen a woman order the special blend just to get close to the boss.

  “She′s not a lesbian,” Albus stated with an air of authority. “Just your average oba.”

  But this particur oba was on a whole other level—an elite-tier conversation master.

  But this obasan was a top-tier chatterbox. After her initial cup of the house-special coffee, she went on to order seven more cups of different fvors—just so she could compin to the owner about her phindering, heartless husband and her one and only son, who was nothing more than a zy good-for-nothing. A full-scale family tragedy.

  (T/N: Oba or Obasan" (おばさん) is a Japanese word that means "aunt" or "middle-aged woman." In this context, it's being used to refer to an older dy in a casual or slightly humorous way.)

  The café owner was incredibly kind, showing not a hint of impatience or forced smiles.

  Instead, she even treated the woman to some cake and scones, listening attentively as she poured out a story dramatic enough to rival the soap opera Spring's Stepmother's Heart.

  Oh, and I almost forgot to mention—this saga dragged on from 11 a.m. all the way until 7:30 p.m. But if you cut out all the repeated parts, it probably would've been less than half that length.

  “I absolutely cannot let myself end up that miserable. Becoming that kind of terrifying chatterbox would be a fate worse than death,” I silently vowed as I walked down Guangfu Road.

  Suddenly, my bike's handlebars started feeling unsteady. I sensed the front end dipping slightly—something was off. My gut told me it was either a ft tire or a slow leak.

  I jumped off my bike and pushed it to the side of the road, crouching down to inspect it.

  “Damn it.” That was my expert diagnosis. I tried to recall if there was a repair shop nearby.

  Just then, a few motorcycles zoomed past me. Out of instinct, I gnced up—one of them suddenly slowed and stopped a short distance ahead. The rider got off, and the other motorcyclists also pulled over, watching from the sidelines.

  “Ah, it′s you!” The rider removed his helmet—it was A-Ta.

  “What a coincidence.” I nodded and squeezed my now-mushy tire to show him the problem.

  At first, I thought A-Ta had stopped because he recognized me. But ter, I realized it was simply because he saw a helpless girl in trouble and decided to check on her.

  That′s just the kind of person A-Ta is. If Ke Guolong, the pilot of Mazinger Z, suddenly got diarrhea and couldn't fight the monster, all you'd have to do is shout, “Hey, don't just stand there! Give us a hand!” And this honest fool would climb right into the cockpit, grab the controls, and take on the Demon Cn—without even worrying about whether he’d win.

  (T/N: Kouji Kabuto (兜 甲児, Kabuto Kōji in Japanese), or 柯国隆, Kē Guólóng in Chinese, is the main protagonist of the cssic 1972 Mazinger Z anime and manga created by Go Nagai. Kouji is a hot-headed but brave young pilot who controls the giant super robot Mazinger Z to fight against Dr. Hell and his mechanical monsters.)

  “Do you know if there's a bike repair shop up ahead?” I asked.

  “There aren't just three motorcycle repair shops. The nearest bike repair shop is back the way you came, under the overpass. But that pce is closed today and tomorrow,” he answered without hesitation.

  “No way, you even know that?” I was skeptical.

  “Yeah, because Uncle Cheng and his family went on a trip. He told me a few days ago when I passed by,” A-Ta said, crouching down to inspect my bike tire, giving it a few squeezes.

  “Uncle Cheng? Who's that?” I was confused.

  “The bike repair shop owner, of course. Back when I began college and hadn't bought a motorcycle yet, I used to ride my bike a lot. After pumping air there so many times, I got to know him naturally,” A-Ta expined as he stood up, scratching his head, lost in thought.

  “A-Ta! Need a hand?” One of his friends called out from a distance, waving at him.

  “Give me a sec! Let me check something!” A-Ta turned back to me and asked, at his usual slow and deliberate pace, “Are you free ter? We just bought a cake and are heading to Nanliao Beach for a birthday celebration. There'll be fireworks. Want to come with us? I can give you a ride home afterward.”

  I looked at A-Ta, then at his friends. They were the same group from that day at the all-girls’ high school—members of the inline skating club. Hanging out with college students for a night? That actually sounded pretty fun. Plus, I could brag about it to Xiao Qing when school started again.

  Besides, I'd always wanted to experience college nightlife!

  “Sure! But I need to be home by midnight,” I said, probably grinning from ear to ear.

  “No problem. It′s only 7:50 PM now—I′ll make sure you get home early,” A-Ta assured me. He seemed just as excited, adding, “It′s awesome that we ran into you! Without you, this birthday celebration wouldn't even be happening.”

  I didn't quite get what he meant, but before he could unleash his overwhelming grip strength on my hands again, I happily parked my bike by the side of the road, took the helmet he handed me from the storage compartment, and hopped onto his motorcycle.

  Our group continued onward, heading toward the windier, wilder Nanliao Beach!