Chapter 1 — Icebergs Also Know Red Eyes

On the seventh day of losing weight, I was so hungry that my hands were shaking. In front of me is a boiled chicken breast carefully prepared by my best friend's older brother. I threw my chopsticks down on the table: "Let's break up, I want to go eat barbecue." He was stunned. The man had never shown any emotions in front of others, yet his eyes were red in the middle of a crowded cafeteria.

“When I said I would pursue you, I didn't say it like this.”

"At that time it was because I wanted to lose weight..."

He stood up suddenly: "Come on, I'll take you out to eat barbecue, eat as much pork belly as you like." A close friend sent a text message: "My brother's 23-year-old image of being noble and cold was completely dismantled by you in just one week." 01 I have tried this weight loss thing exactly thirty-seven times. The thirty-seventh failure occurred last Wednesday. Standing in front of the hot pot restaurant, I stared at the number on the scale for five minutes, then turned around and walked into the restaurant to order another plate of beef brisket. To Niem, a close friend sitting opposite, tapped the bowl with chopsticks: "Sister, if you keep gaining weight like this, you won't be able to fit into any dress next summer." I stuffed the beef roll into my mouth, chewed and mumbled, "I won't wear a dress anymore."

“You just bought three last week.”

I fell silent. To Niem looked at my expression, suddenly put down his chopsticks, his eyes lit up: "I have a way."

“What way?”

“My brother.”

I stopped chewing. To Niem's older brother is To Nghien, famous as the school's "moving iceberg". A third-year student of the Department of Information Technology, he has a face that makes people not dare to approach him. For three years, no one has ever seen him smile. Rumor has it that an underclassman confessed his love right in front of her. He looked at her for exactly three seconds, said "Not necessary" and then turned around and left.

“You told me you were supervising me to lose weight?”

"It's not a surveillance," To Niem leaned closer, lowering his voice, "You go cut him down."

I dropped my chopsticks.

"Listen to me until the end," he quickly stopped me, "My brother, he lives an extremely disciplined life. He gets up at six in the morning and jogs, eats and drinks on time, never eats snacks. If you're next to him, do you want to eat snacks? Don't even bother. His face just looms next to you like that, do you have the face to gnaw on fried chicken?"

I admit, this logic sounds interesting.

"Moreover," To Niem added, "My brother will absolutely never agree. He has no interest in love at all. If you keep pursuing him, he will definitely refuse, at that time you can just consider following his schedule unilaterally. Wait until you get thinner and achieve your goal, then it will automatically end."

“Are you sure he won't agree?”

“Two hundred percent sure!” To Niem patted his chest loudly, "I've never seen him show any unnecessary expressions to anyone when I'm this old. You can feel free to flirt boldly, consider it training your courage."

I stared at the pot of red hot pot boiling, making a decision that changed the trajectory of my life.

“Latch.”

The next day, the alarm rang at six in the morning. I got up from bed, washed my face, changed into sports clothes, tied my hair in a ponytail, then put on my slippers and went to the stadium. To Nghien is already on the run. Tight black sports clothes, long legs with steady strides, Ears wearing headphones, eyes looking straight. The entire large stadium was just him, as empty as his social circle. I took a deep breath and ran slowly to chase.

“Good morning, senior!”

He did not react. I sped up and ran parallel to him, loudly repeating: "Senior! Good morning!" He tilted his head slightly and glanced at me. That glance was very short, about 0.5 seconds, then he withdrew his gaze and continued running. It's okay, in my plan, on the first day we just need to get to know each other. I followed him halfway around when my lungs were about to explode. I had to bend over and put my hands on my knees, panting. His back became more and more distant, not even bothering to look back once. I stood up straight, pulled out my phone and texted To Niem: *Can normal people keep up with your running speed?* To Niem replied in the blink of an eye: *Normal people can't keep up, but you're not a normal person.* The second day I left again. The third day also went. On the morning of the fourth day, when I ran up to him, he took off one earphone. My heart was pounding — not because of the vibration, but because I was so tired from running.

“You follow me every day.” He said, not a question.

“Yes.” I gasped and replied, "I'm chasing you."

His steps stopped for a beat. Just one beat, then restores steady speed.

“Why.” Still not a question.

“Because you're handsome.”

The real reason is because he is disciplined, but this sentence cannot be said. He didn't open his mouth anymore and ran the remaining three laps. As for me, I had just reached the second lap and was lying flat on the grass next to the track. When he finished running and passed me, he stopped for a second.

“See you tomorrow.”

After saying that, he left. I lay on the grass, looking up at the sky and texted To Niem a message: *What does your brother say "see you tomorrow", what does that mean?* To Niem: *Wait a minute, I'll ask... My brother said he runs here every day at this time, whether you come tomorrow or not, he'll still be there.* Well, that's literally it. No hidden meanings, no ambiguity, simply stating a fact. Perfect. What I need is a weight loss plan that doesn't carry emotional risks like this. 02 This pursuit, on the fifth day, I began to increase the intensity. Because running alone won't make me skinny, I need To Nghien to become the "calorie police" in my life — with him by my side, I'll be afraid to eat. So I started showing up everywhere he appeared. Morning at the stadium, lunch at the cafeteria, afternoon at the library. At lunch that day, I picked up the rice tray and scanned the cafeteria. I saw him sitting in the corner, with a portion of brown rice, a portion of boiled cauliflower, and a piece of sauteed chicken breast in front of him. I carried my bowl of malatang (spicy soup) over and plopped down across from him. He looked up at me.

“Is there no one sitting here?” I asked smiling.

He bent down to look at the five empty chairs on his left, the five empty chairs on his right, then looked at the fact that there were no ghosts within a three-meter radius around this corner, but said nothing. I put down the bowl of malatang and picked up a chopstick of vermicelli. His eyes fell on my bowl - the red, fatty broth, fried balls, small intestines, and flat vermicelli piled up into a small mountain.

“I'm not losing weight.” he said.

My hands are shaking go up.

“Who said you're losing weight?”

“To Niem.”

In my heart, I silently cursed my best friend eight hundred times.

“It's nonsense, I just... simply want to cut you.” I gritted my teeth and stuffed the vermicelli into my mouth.

He didn't say anything more, bent down and continued eating his chicken breast. But I noticed one detail — he transferred half of the cauliflower from his tray to the empty plate in front of me.

“Eat this.”

“I don't—”

“A bowl of malatang is 1200 calories.” He said, "Your bowl also has small intestine and sesame sauce, 1500 calories."

My chopsticks stopped mid-air.