Over ten minutes passed, and Ling Chen still hadn’t gotten a reply from Zhu Wenshu.

He kept glancing at his phone, then over at Ling Xingyan beside him.

“What?”

Ling Xingyan, busy replying to messages on two phones at once, said without looking up, sensing the other man’s gaze on him.

Ling Chen: “Wanted to tell you something.”

Ling Xingyan: “Hm?”

Ling Chen: “My girl—”

“Stop right there.”

Ling Xingyan quickly unbuckled his seatbelt and got up, heading toward the aisle seat. “Manman, let’s switch seats.”

Ling Chen: “…”

Lu Manman glanced over, about to refuse, but seeing the look on Ling Xingyan’s face, she didn’t dare say anything.

So, reluctantly, she unbuckled her seatbelt and sat down next to Ling Chen instead.

Ling Chen let out a scoff and turned his face away.

Pathetic, fragile single man.

A while later, the flight attendant reminded everyone the plane was about to take off, and asked passengers to switch off their phones.

Before entering airplane mode, Ling Chen checked the chat window one more time — still no reply from Zhu Wenshu.

Was she really mad just because he’d said he was acting clingy?

Strangely enough, he’d rushed to Jiangcheng International Airport before dawn, thoroughly exhausted from the whole ordeal, feeling like he hadn’t slept in years, his head still foggy.

But Zhu Wenshu had come out with an out-of-nowhere “want to hug you,” and those four words seemed to flip some switch inside him — his drowsiness vanished instantly, every cell in his body suddenly alert.

Ling Chen felt like he’d been the victim of some kind of reverse hex, given that she was the one who’d voiced the desire in the first place.

Like someone dying of thirst in the desert, he wanted, desperately, to pull her into his arms.

If he weren’t on this plane right now, he’d have changed flights on the spot, crossed the eighty kilometers between them, just to hold her for even one second.

But regrettably, there was no turning back now, and the next half a month would have him working in a different city entirely.

Forget hugging her — he wouldn’t even be able to touch a single strand of her hair.

After a while, the plane began taxiing, and Lu Manman, utterly exasperated, took off her headphones.

While gathering her things, she accidentally turned her head and made eye contact with Ling Chen. Startled, she quickly looked away.

Too late — he’d already caught her.

“I have something serious to discuss with you,” Ling Chen said flatly.

Lu Manman eyed him warily. “What is it?”

Ling Chen: “Tell me the schedule for the next few days.”

So it really was something serious.

Lu Manman relaxed a little, pulled out her tablet, and carefully walked Ling Chen through the upcoming plans.

Once she finished, Ling Chen nodded. “Book me a flight back to Jiangcheng on the evening of the 9th.”

“Huh?”

Lu Manman quickly said, “But you’re supposed to meet with Niki on the 11th to go over the arrangement.”

“I know,” Ling Chen said. “Book the flight back for the afternoon of the 10th.”

Lu Manman: “…”

She didn’t agree right away, turning instead to look at Ling Xingyan.

“Is he your boss, or am I?”

Ling Chen cut her off.

“Oh… got it.”

Lu Manman silently jotted it down in the schedule, not wanting to ask why at all — she just thought the timing seemed a little tight. “It’s just that one day off — maybe you should just rest at the hotel instead.”

Ling Chen sighed heavily. “You think I don’t want to rest?”

Seeing Ling Chen’s serious expression, Lu Manman suddenly felt guilty for having assumed the worst of her boss — turned out he really was just swamped with work.

“Then—”

“No way around it.” Ling Chen closed his eyes, pulling his baseball cap down over his face, tilting his head back to sleep. “My girlfriend’s too clingy.”

Lu Manman: “…”

A little over two hours later, the plane landed.

Ling Chen turned his phone on and found that Zhu Wenshu had replied a few minutes after his flight took off.

[Teacher Zhu]: Heard there’s a Perseid meteor shower on the 9th.

[Teacher Zhu]: Too bad the weather in Jiangcheng’s no good, probably won’t be able to see it.

Ling Chen almost thought he’d missed some message, scrolled back up, and saw that “want to hug you” text of hers.

That ability to forcibly change the subject was really something else.

But Ling Chen’s ability to force a connection wasn’t weak either.

Passengers around him were already getting up to disembark, but Ling Chen sat there steadily, unhurried, and typed out a reply.

[c]: Zhu Wenshu doesn’t need a shooting star to make a wish come true.

[c]: Ling Chen’s available anytime.

—

This year, Spring Festival came early. After the New Year’s holiday ended, every class began preparing intensely for final exams.

The lower grades didn’t have a heavy exam load — one day was enough to finish it all. But the teachers of the lower grades weren’t exactly relaxed either — from the exams themselves through grading and generating report cards and writing end-of-term remarks, plus having to go monitor and grade exams for other schools, Zhu Wenshu felt busier than during a normal teaching week.

The day after exams ended, the parents’ committee organized a visit to a Red Revolutionary base.

While grading papers between breaks, Zhu Wenshu glanced at the class group chat and saw the parents and students were treating it like a full-on spring outing, photos pouring in nonstop, some kids even carrying custom little red flags.

By evening, some parents even called Zhu Wenshu specifically to ask if she wanted to join them for dinner.

Actually, Zhu Wenshu was normally happy to take part in the class’s group activities, but she’d been so exhausted these past few days — even Ling Chen had commented that her schedule was fuller than his — that at this point, having finally finished up, all she wanted was to go home and lie down.

At seven in the evening, the sky was already completely dark.

Zhu Wenshu had ordered delivery on her way home, but by the time she got there, she had no appetite at all.

She set the takeout on the table and left it there, sat down to catch her breath for a moment, then decided to shower first.

Once the weather turned cold, shower time always ended up stretching on without her noticing.

Over half an hour later, Zhu Wenshu had just finished washing her hair. After applying hair mask and putting it up in a bun, she was about to go put on a face mask when there was a knock at the bathroom door.

“Done in there?”

Ying Fei called from outside. “Your phone’s been going off nonstop, wasn’t sure if it was something urgent, just letting you know.”

Wondering if something had gone wrong with the exam papers, Zhu Wenshu frowned, wrapped herself in a towel, and came out.

She checked her phone and immediately felt goosebumps rise across her skin.

Over a dozen missed calls, all from Ling Xingyan and Ling Siyuan’s nanny.

An overwhelming sense of foreboding crashed over her; her whole body trembled, and she hurried to call back.

But both Ling Xingyan’s and the nanny’s lines were busy.

After a good while, Ling Xingyan finally called back.

The moment she picked up, his voice came through, urgent.

“Teacher Zhu? Are you busy right now? I need to ask a huge favor of you!”

Hearing that tone, Zhu Wenshu knew immediately something had gone wrong, and hurried to open her closet to get changed.

“Go ahead.”

“Ling Siyuan’s been taken by Ling Chen’s grandparents! I can’t get back in time, the earliest flight’s not till tonight — Ling Chen’s on a plane too, I need you to go find him first!”

Zhu Wenshu had felt warm all over from her hot shower moments ago, but hearing this, that warmth instantly turned to a chill. She remembered the scene of that elderly couple showing up at the school gate, and her mind exploded with static, every muscle in her limbs tensing.

“Okay, they were on Binjiang Road today, I’ll go right now!”

Zhu Wenshu threw on her clothes at top speed and, as she ran out the door, could still hear Ying Fei calling after her, “Your coat! You’re not wearing a coat!”

By the time she got downstairs, a taxi happened to be passing by.

It was rush hour, and every red light meant several minutes stuck waiting. Just as they were about to reach Bingjiang Road, Ling Xingyan called again, saying the tracker on Ling Siyuan’s watch showed he seemed to be on the way home.

So Zhu Wenshu had the driver turn around and head toward Ling Xingyan’s place instead.

—

This road wasn’t too congested, and with Zhu Wenshu urging the driver on, they made it in fifteen minutes.

Just as she got out of the car, the nanny happened to be pulling up too — she didn’t even bother parking in the garage, just left the car haphazardly by the roadside and ran down in a rush.

“Teacher Zhu!” The nanny, usually neat and put together, now had her down jacket half-unzipped, hair falling loose in strands. “How is it, did you see Yuanyuan?”

“I just got here!”

Zhu Wenshu looked around anxiously, forehead beading with sweat. “What exactly happened?”

The nanny, still catching her breath, said, “I took him to the class activity today. He was sweating so much from running around, so I asked another parent to keep an eye on him while I went to get some hot water, and when I came back, he was gone. Some of the parents said a few boys had gone off to play near the pavilion. I walked over and saw those two old bastards crouched in front of Yuanyuan, talking to him. I shouted, and the moment they saw it was me, they scooped Yuanyuan straight into their car!

There weren’t any cabs around, so I ran around asking parents for help, and by the time I got a car out to chase them, they were already gone.

I saw his watch tracker showing he was headed home, his dad said he’d made contact too, told me to come look here, but there’s still no sign of him! And now the tracker’s cut out too!”

The nanny was practically spinning in circles with worry. Zhu Wenshu didn’t stand there any longer and headed for the security booth.

“There should be cameras here, right? Let’s go ask the guard if he’s seen anything.”

She’d only taken a couple of steps when she saw a brown car swerve in at an angle.

Normally, cars slow down to park along the curb, but this one kept its speed up the whole way. Zhu Wenshu sensed something was wrong and stopped to watch it.

Sure enough, the brown car slammed to a halt, its door flew open, and Ling Siyuan came half-tumbling, half-jumping out.

Zhu Wenshu’s heart nearly leapt out of her chest — even knowing the roadside was safe, she still found herself sprinting forward on reflex. She managed to catch him, but the eight-year-old boy wasn’t light, and the momentum sent both of them tumbling to the ground.

The nanny came running over with a shout, and Ling Siyuan was wailing too. By the time Zhu Wenshu looked up, the car had already sped off.

Once the nanny had scooped Ling Siyuan up into her arms, Zhu Wenshu also struggled to her feet, snatched up the phone that had fallen to the ground, glanced at the main road, and immediately took off running after it.

She’d only sprinted a few meters before realizing there was no way she’d catch up to a car. And she’d scraped her knee in the fall too — the pain only registering several seconds late — but she was moving too fast, her body unable to keep pace with her brain’s reactions, and with ill-fitting shoes on top of it, the moment a sharp pain shot up from her ankle, she went down again.

Fortunately, the car was forced to stop up ahead due to traffic at the intersection. Zhu Wenshu, sprawled on the ground, didn’t bother getting up right away — she pulled out her phone and snapped a photo of the license plate.

—

An hour later, Zhu Wenshu sat huddled in the coat the vice principal had given her, half-slumped on an iron chair at the police station.

She’d just finished a call with Ling Xingyan and still hadn’t quite recovered her bearings.

The grade director, the academic affairs office staff, several school leaders had all come, along with some people from Ling Xingyan’s side that Zhu Wenshu didn’t recognize at all. Around her, she could only hear the murmur of scattered conversations.

Ling Siyuan, held in the nanny’s arms, had cried himself out and was now only quietly sniffling, which made the shouting of injustice from the interrogation room ring out all the more clearly.

“What kidnapping! There was no kidnapping! We sent him home safe! We’re his relatives! We were just taking him out to play!”

“There’s no kidnapping here! We even called his dad! You police can’t just slander us like this! We’re—”

Some officer barked something, and the shouting in the interrogation room immediately died down.

The area quieted a little, but Zhu Wenshu’s mind kept ringing regardless.

Just now, on the phone, Ling Xingyan had told her that the old couple, unable to reach Ling Chen, had gone after Ling Siyuan instead. After getting the boy into the car, they’d asked for Ling Chen’s contact information, only to find it was still that same disconnected number, which was when they’d called Ling Xingyan directly.

At the time, Ling Xingyan had had no idea what state the child was in, and hadn’t dared say anything too harsh for fear of provoking them — he’d only warned them that this counted as kidnapping and could land them in jail, then coaxed them gently, saying if they brought the boy back, everything could still be worked out.

In any case, Ling Siyuan had been found safe, and the old couple, thanks to the license plate Zhu Wenshu had photographed, had been pulled over by police before they could even leave the city.

Right now, the police were inside dealing with them, and Zhu Wenshu, waiting to be questioned at any moment, hadn’t had a chance to go to the hospital to check on her own leg.

She looked down and pulled up her pant leg to check her calf. Because she’d left in such a hurry, she’d worn Ying Fei’s shoes, which were a full two sizes too big, and she hadn’t gotten more than a few steps before falling. Her pants were also just thin house pants — falling onto the concrete had left a large patch of skin scraped raw on her calf, which was now stinging fiercely.

“Teacher Zhu!”

Teacher Zhong, the original homeroom teacher who was on maternity leave, had rushed over too. After checking on Ling Siyuan, she came to find Zhu Wenshu. “What happened?”

Zhu Wenshu had lost count of how many people had already asked her this, and recounted the general situation once more.

Hearing that everyone was safe with no real harm done, Teacher Zhong let out a breath of relief and turned to talk to Ling Siyuan instead.

A few minutes later, the vice principal brought over a cup of hot water.

“Drink a little.” She’d been watching Zhu Wenshu ever since arriving at the station, noticing that though her face looked pale, she’d been sitting there quietly the whole time. “Good thing nothing worse happened. You handled it really calmly, too — if it’d been me back when I was young, I probably would’ve broken down crying.”

Zhu Wenshu nodded, too drained to say much, took a couple sips, and set the cup aside.

A few minutes later, the sound of hurried footsteps came from the entrance.

Everyone but Zhu Wenshu turned to look that way one after another.

Under the harsh white fluorescent lights of the hall, everything looked cold and lifeless. Ling Chen stood there, his face nearly bloodless, only the violent rise and fall of his chest betraying that he was, in fact, a living, breathing person.

Ever since the sports meet, the people at the school had known Ling Siyuan was Ling Chen’s nephew.

But no one had expected Ling Chen to show up here, so openly, in plain sight.

By all rights, with the child already safe and this many people present, there was no real need for a public figure like Ling Chen to come at all.

But not only had he come —

Everyone in the hall stared at Ling Chen. He stood frozen in the doorway for a moment, then walked past a tear-streaked Ling Siyuan, only glancing at him briefly before continuing straight inside.

A dozen or so pairs of eyes, including the on-duty officers’, followed him as he moved.

Finally, they saw him crouch down in front of Zhu Wenshu.

“You alright?”

He raised a hand, meaning to touch her, but the gesture froze mid-air the moment he saw the look in her eyes.

This was a Zhu Wenshu he’d never seen before — wearing an ill-fitting coat, half-dry hair scattered messily over her shoulders, a smudge of dirt still on her jaw.

With her head bowed, her lowered lashes looked especially thick, but they couldn’t hide the lingering fear in her eyes.

“You’re finally here.”

Her voice came out weak, carrying a fragile edge, “You scared me to death.”

In that instant, Ling Chen felt something clench tightly in his chest, that long-familiar feeling washing back over him.

Why did Zhu Wenshu have to suffer through something like this, because of him.

After a long silence, he said hoarsely, “I’m sorry.”

Zhu Wenshu opened her mouth, about to say something, but just then heard the two people in the interrogation room still shouting incoherently.

Despite their age, their voices were strong and harsh, grating on the ears.

She furrowed her brow and asked, “Are they really your family?”

Ling Chen closed his eyes, his breathing heavy, and after a long while, let out a low “Mm.”

“I’m the reason you got dragged into this.”

The disbelief in Zhu Wenshu’s eyes faded away at his answer, and she reached out to touch his cheek.

“This is my responsibility. It’s not your fault.”

Ling Chen’s lashes trembled; he lifted his head to look at her.

Her fingertips traced along his jaw. “I have another responsibility too—”

Before she could finish, Ling Chen reached out and pulled her forcefully into his arms.

“Zhu Wenshu.” Ling Chen’s voice was hoarse, carrying the exhaustion of travel and worry, as he said quietly, “I finally get to hold you.”