Early in the morning, Leon (he'll be referred to as Leon from now on) woke up from a not-so-comfortable bed and grabbed the little panda alarm clock from the nightstand.
"Still half an hour until seven."
As a meticulous person, Leon didn't allow himself to make any planning mistakes!
So he went back to sleep.
At 8:30, this time he was truly awake.
"My standing in the 'Snooze Religion' must have risen quite a bit again!"
Celebration-worthy, Coca-Cola-level joy!
Yawning as he went to wash up, he couldn't help it; last night had been exhausting.
Don't get the wrong idea, it wasn't anything messy. It was just that cleaning up the scene (as in looting) was quite the hassle.
...
Leon lived in a very ordinary rented house.
No lawn, no garage, no fancy roof or trees. It had nothing, absolutely nothing!
The decorations inside were even simpler. It could be summed up in four words: no decorations at all.
One room, one bed, one sofa, a set of table and chairs, and a cup of coffee.
Oh, and a few daily necessities left behind by the original tenant. Like a cute alarm clock and a towel that changed patterns when it touched hot water. Of course, Mr. Leon Collins, who was not only meticulous but also inherently upright, threw the towel away.
Who knows what the original tenant did with that towel!
As for why he didn't change houses—no money!
The original tenant was a typical "three-no" person: no education, no job, no family.
When Leon first got here, he hadn't even opened his eyes and already smelled the stench of alcohol on himself. When he later cleaned up the bottles, he could roughly guess what had happened.
There wasn't even a single photo in the house, and after searching everywhere, he only found about 200 in cash...
"Not bad," Leon consoled himself, "better than being in debt like before." (Don't hate me!)
...
Dressed and ready, Leon stood in front of the mirror to get a good look at his current self: a skinny frame, pale face. With his height, it made him look like a strong wind could knock him over.
"When it comes to looks, I'm definitely not on the same level as my old self!"
Rubbing the stubble on his chin, Leon thought that if he really compared, he'd say he came out on top: "Nineteen years old, I've gained seven or eight years for free!"
What's that called? Reversing the aging process! (Tactical lean back)
Denim jacket, jeans, sneakers. Simple is beautiful. Mostly because he didn't have any other clothes.
In America, 19 is a magical age. You can join the army, but you can't get married. You can buy a gun, but you can't drink alcohol.
The former implies that dealing with a wife is harder than dealing with enemies! The latter shows just how much harm alcohol causes compared to bullets!
So.
Reject alcohol technology—let's start with you and me!
...
Heading out to find something to eat was the most challenging thing for Leon these past few days.
Being from a country of food lovers, he could tolerate many things, but the lack of variety in cuisine was really tough.
It was always bread, milk, eggs, salad. If he wanted a bowl of soy milk, he'd have to go to Chinatown in the next district!
He had thought about cooking for himself, but the first problem was: he didn't even have a pot!
Just one more day!
Just one day!
Leon decided that today he'd go buy a pot! But for now, breakfast still needed to be eaten. Even if he got a pot, it'd be for dinner, not breakfast.
After all, his current body was way too thin.
Pushing open the door, Leon greeted the restaurant owner who was wiping down tables: "Good morning, beautiful lady!"
This was a small Mexican-style restaurant, specializing in what Leon wasn't sure was "authentic Mexican tacos."
The owner, or more accurately, the owner's wife, was named Santis. She ran the place with her son and daughter. Leon had been coming here for breakfast every day recently, and he had sweetened his tongue quite a bit, so over time, they got to know each other.
Originally, they were neighbors in the same block, but Leon used to give off a very solitary vibe, unwilling to interact with others. Santis had even worried about this kid who was about the same age as her son.
"Eliza, go help the customer," Santis smiled at Leon, then called into the kitchen.
"What do you want to eat?"
Eliza Gonzalez, Santis' daughter, was a born model with legs that went on forever. Coupled with a beautiful face and a decent personality, she was recognized as a goddess in several nearby neighborhoods.
Her only flaw was that she was a bit cold. But that could also be because she wasn't familiar with Leon yet.
"Warm up a case of wine, and four trucks of fennel beans!" Leon opened with a classic, exaggerated request like in *The True Story of Ah Q*!
Eliza rolled her eyes. She knew from the start that this guy, who had suddenly changed his attitude, never said anything useful.
"Just the usual basic set!"
Eliza tapped her knuckles on the table and gave him a look that said, "I've got this." She wiped her hands on her apron and headed back to the kitchen.
Leon wasn't annoyed; he just wanted something simple to eat anyway.
Looking past the counter into the kitchen, Leon watched as Eliza moved the spices on top of the cabinet. He couldn't help but marvel: no wonder they're from South America, look how long that… no, I mean, look how straight those spices are!
When he turned back, Santis was smiling warmly at him. Laughing awkwardly, Leon quickly lowered his head as if nothing had happened.
It didn't take long!
The food was served, and Eliza sat down opposite Leon, having taken off her apron.
"Do you really think I'll steal your food?" Eliza asked, noticing Leon's odd expression.
"Not at all." Leon shrugged and picked up the chopsticks specially prepared for him, grabbing a bite of what looked like a mini bun: "I just wonder if it's okay for you to be slacking off like this."
Before he could finish his sentence, Eliza had already leaned back on the seat, only her voice and long legs visible: "Don't worry, you're the only one here for breakfast at this time."
Looking around, Leon realized she was right!
Though there was a beauty lounging across from him, Leon couldn't see anything under the table, so he focused on eating. He had to admit, these spicy-sour corn dough buns…
Had a unique flavor!
Don't ask; the answer is they're special!
Satisfied with his meal, Leon wiped his mouth: "Though there were no fennel beans, the food was still great. Your mom's got skills."
"Why couldn't it be me who made it?"
There was that voice from across the table again.
"And what are fennel beans, anyway?"
Seems like ordering fennel beans every day had finally gone too far. This girl was genuinely curious about what fennel beans were.
"It's a specialty snack from where I'm from," though Leon himself had no clue what fennel beans actually were, he figured they were similar to five-spice peanuts!
"I'll treat you to some when there's a chance."
Leaving cash on the table, Leon stood up to leave.
"Are you going to agree to their request?"
Agree?
Who?
What?
Me?
Leon turned around, looking at the long-legged beauty who was now sitting upright and serious, and asked the question from his soul.
"What are you talking about?"
---
Guess who Eliza is based on?
(End of Chapter)