They stared at each other wordlessly for five or six seconds.

“Why didn’t you leave.” Jiang Wen kept his original posture as he sat, asking her coldly.

“You seem like a little kid, huh—not getting an adult’s attention, so you start throwing a fit.” After a moment, he found his voice again, “I wasn’t.”

“Hm?” Feng Ning found this strange. “Not throwing a tantrum? Then why’d you pull the needle out.”

The back of Jiang Wen’s hand was still bleeding; his face darkened. “Didn’t want the IV anymore.”

It was very quiet around them, quiet enough to hear only his somewhat heavy breathing. Feng Ning was skilled at reading people’s expressions, while Jiang Wen had no defenses up at all.

He was cold and aloof in manner, good-looking, his brows and eyes carrying an air others had grown accustomed to.

Tsk tsk, quite the petty one, really.

She chuckled a couple of times, took a cotton swab, and held it out to him tentatively. “Here, press this on the wound.”

Jiang Wen looked at the cotton swab for a couple of seconds, and in the end still took it, obediently doing as told.

“Don’t want the IV, then don’t have it.” Feng Ning checked her watch. “Let’s go, let’s eat.”

They’d originally planned to go to the cafeteria, but it turned out to be nearly empty, with many windows already closed. They went out through the west gate; there weren’t many street vendors left either. Feng Ning suddenly grew curious: “Young Master, have you ever eaten in the cafeteria?”

“Don’t call me Young Master.” Jiang Wen frowned, the composed model-student image coming back out again. “Don’t eat there much.”

“Why not? Everyone else calls you that, so what should I call you?”

“My name.”

“Jiang Wen?”

“Mn.”

She called out again: “Jiang Wen?”

Jiang Wen glanced at her.

“Why don’t you eat in the cafeteria?”

“I don’t like the smell of…” Jiang Wen hesitated a moment, struggling with his wording for a while, then vaguely spat out two words, “food smell.”

“Food smell?” Feng Ning burst out laughing.

She suddenly recalled Zhao Binlin once saying that Jiang Wen looked cool and aloof on the surface, but was actually a delicate little princess inside.

“You’re way too precious, huh. Precious Jiang Wen, can’t even stand the smell of food, hahahahahaha.”

Jiang Wen’s face turned quite bad from her laughing at him.

Actually Feng Ning herself was also in pretty low spirits; the stomach pumping she’d had a couple days ago had really taken a toll. Neither of the two invalids had much of an appetite. Jiang Wen followed along behind her, and they randomly wandered into a small plain congee shop.

“Wait.” Standing at the doorway, Feng Ning blocked him with her hand, sniffing with her nose.

Jiang Wen was baffled. “What’s wrong.”

She turned her head, saying seriously: “You smell it first, see if you can tolerate the food smell in this shop.”

Jiang Wen was choked with anger, pushing her hand away. “I’m not that fussy.”

Feng Ning ordered a bowl of wontons, and also ordered a bowl of century egg and lean pork congee for Jiang Wen.

She pulled out a tissue to wipe the table. “You want milk tea? Meng Taoyu brought me a burnt grass jelly drink a few days ago, seems like it was bought nearby.”

Jiang Wen shook his head. “I don’t like drinking milk tea.”

The wontons and congee were brought to the table; Feng Ning poured vinegar into her bowl. “There are actually people who don’t like milk tea? I love milk tea the most. Milk tea with instant noodles is the most perfect combination in the world, happiness levels Biubiu.”

“Junk food.”

Watching Jiang Wen’s dead-serious critique, Feng Ning wanted to laugh her head off inside, but afraid he’d get angry again, could only hold back her laughter. “This counts as junk food? Then last time you ate barbecue, wasn’t that junk food too? You even sort junk food into categories?”

His expression and tone remained flat: “I eat it occasionally, and very little of it.”

Feng Ning nodded, giving him a thumbs up, praising him viciously: “Aren’t you just the good little health-conscious baby.”

Jiang Wen didn’t like eating hot food; he used his spoon to stir the congee until it cooled down before reluctantly taking a bite. He didn’t talk with food in his mouth either, focusing on swallowing the congee, saying, “I’m not a kid.”

“Oh.”

He ate glumly for a while, then noticed Feng Ning had stopped talking. He looked up—she was distracted, cheeks puffed out chewing wontons, but her eyes kept glancing at her phone.

Jiang Wen found himself being ignored, an indescribable irritation surging up. He held back for a moment before speaking up to ask, “What are you looking at?”

“Looking at handsome guys, what else.”

Feng Ning made a couple of “mm” sounds, “This.” She tossed the phone onto the table; the screen showed the Qide forum page. Following someone’s directions, she’d successfully found that handsome-guys roundup post.

“Heehee, they’re selecting the top ten school hunks. I switched between three burner accounts to upvote you.”

Jiang Wen glanced at it, his face turning from clear to cloudy. “Oh… I don’t care about that.”

“Is the gossip up there true?” Feng Ning bit down on her spoon. “You’re pretty ruthless, huh.”

He picked up the phone. “Said what?”

“Said before there was a girl who cried in front of you for a long time, and after she finished crying, you said, ‘Who are you?'” Feng Ning straightened up, eyes widening, muttering: “You actually said, who are you? Who are you?! Jiang Wen, you’re too much. At such a young age you’re already this heartless toward girls?”

Jiang Wen looked slightly confused, furrowing his brow to think it over. “When was this.”

“Middle school.”

“That, that girl, she wasn’t in love with me.” Jiang Wen explained with some difficulty. “She was Zhao Binlin’s girlfriend.”

“Hm?” Feng Ning’s eyes were full of sensationalist curiosity. “Zhao Binlin’s girlfriend went crying to you for what? What did you do? Wow, don’t tell me you two were caught up in a love triangle?!”

“……”

“Nothing to do with me. It’s because Zhao Binlin refused to see her, they were fighting about breaking up at the time.”

Feng Ning pressed further: “About the breakup, why didn’t Zhao Binlin want to see her?”

“Because… she said, said she wanted to marry Zhao Binlin, and then Zhao Binlin got scared.” Jiang Wen’s expression showed some awkwardness; he stammered for a while, “They… that, it’s just… Zhao Binlin had…”

Seeing him struggle to continue, Feng Ning suddenly understood, indignant: “Damn, Zhao Binlin slept with a girl back in middle school, and after sleeping with her wanted to dump her, what a player. So Zhao Binlin’s romantic debt got dumped on you?”

The topic was so bizarre, and yet somehow they kept chatting about it.

Jiang Wen made an “mn” sound, then added, “Not me, I’ve never with a girl…” he stopped halfway through, embarrassed even to the tips of his ears turning red, turning his head away not to look at her.

Feng Ning smiled slyly, her eyes bright and dark. “Is that so, that’s how a good kid should be. You want to do things with girls, you’ll have to wait until you’re eighteen, that’s the scientific way. But when you reject girls, you could be a bit gentler, a bit softer about it. Don’t make it so cutting, we’re all going through puberty, we’ll run into each other with heads bowed or raised, teenage boys and girls in the flowering season, thin-skinned, it wouldn’t look good spread around like this.”

Jiang Wen countered, “What about you then? You say I’m heartless to others, what about yourself.”

“Me what?” Feng Ning didn’t care at all, taking a big bite of wonton. “I’ve broken plenty of young boys’ hearts, if you ask me, I can’t even remember them all off the top of my head. But boys’ psychological resilience is clearly stronger than girls’, so being a bit harsh doesn’t matter.”

Yet the person sitting across from her was precisely someone anxious and fragile-hearted.

The fragile heart said: “I heard from others, in middle school a boy cut your hair.”

Jiang Wen rarely, or rather never, actively pried into other people’s gossip. When he spoke, having just met Feng Ning’s gaze, his whole face was awkward, his voice getting lower and lower, “Then he liked you for three years afterward, even secretly followed you home, but you ignored him.”

“Yeah.” Feng Ning didn’t notice his bashful mood at all. “He secretly followed me onto the bus, and I gave him a good beating for it.”

“?”

Feng Ning narrowed her eyes, wearing a nostalgic expression. “This guy, I don’t know if he watched too many TV dramas or had persecution delusions, fantasized himself as some kind of hero, insisting on protecting my safety—this old lady didn’t have time to play along with his idol drama!”

Jiang Wen: “……”

Summer lunch breaks were short; after finishing lunch and checking the time, going back to the dorm for a nap was no longer possible.

Feng Ning had eaten a bowl of small wontons, her appetite opened up, patting her bloated belly. “I’m going to buy two cups of milk tea, do you want to head back to school first?”

Jiang Wen paused, then stood up along with her. “I’ll go buy one too.”

Feng Ning was suspicious: “Didn’t you say you don’t drink it?”

“Want to… try it.”

Jiang Wen didn’t like drinking milk tea, but he’d grown used to her constant chattering.

If it went quiet, his heart would feel empty too.

As for the rest, he didn’t understand either. He only knew he was still immersed in the relaxed, happy atmosphere of chatting with Feng Ning just now.

Jiang Wen was greedily savoring this bit of limited happiness. Time was running short, and he was reluctant to pull himself away. But he couldn’t say any of this, at a loss for what to do, could only tuck it all away in his heart.

The milk tea shop selling the burnt grass jelly drink had a cute name, called Cherry Little Maruko and Brown Bear. It was just across one street, and there was still quite a long line at this hour.

Among them were no few Qide students. Some girls spotted Jiang Wen coming in and nudged their companions’ arms suggestively, mouthing the words: look at the handsome guy.

Feng Ning had a serious case of decision paralysis; every time before ordering food or drink, she’d research carefully and agonize for a long while.

She tilted her head up, the faint fragrance from the top of her hair brushing past his chin.

Jiang Wen’s heart swayed; he was stunned for an instant.

Feng Ning raised her hand, pointing at the menu board. “You think I should get the signature pudding or the grass jelly milk tea?”

He was taller than her, lowering his eyes, patiently saying: “I don’t know which one tastes better.”

“Last time Little Meng brought me the grass jelly milk tea, so this time I’ll drink the signature pudding.” Feng Ning scrunched up her face, finally making up her mind, and asked him, “What about you, what do you want?”

“Whatever’s fine, you order for me.” Jiang Wen said.

Feng Ning showed an unusually troubled expression: “You can’t make me order for you—I’ve already suffered enough picking for myself!” Saying this, she still went back to seriously studying the menu board.

Jiang Wen stood behind her, showing a faint smile.

“Mango coconut sago how about that? Or lemon jasmine tea? Which one do you want.” She turned her head.

Jiang Wen deliberately said, “You choose.”

Feng Ning took a deep breath, pondered for a long while, and slapped the table: “Then mango coconut sago it is.”

“Mn.”

The line was long, still about a dozen or so people ahead. Feng Ning was a chatterbox; once she started talking, her mouth wouldn’t stop. She didn’t even need anyone to respond—she could ramble on endlessly by herself for half a day.

“You know, the moment I saw this shop’s name, I fell in love with it.”

“Cherry Little Maruko and Brown Bear.” He repeated the shop name. “Why?”

“Because my favorite cartoon is Chibi Maruko-chan. I still love watching it even now, and I often nod my head along mimicking Maruko’s lines.”

Feng Ning had a bit of sweat on her face, her eyes shining, saying proudly: “I had short hair as a kid, and people said I looked especially like Maruko, my mom said so too.”

Suddenly a voice came from nearby, “Jiang Wen… why are you here?”

The two of them turned around together; there was another girl next to Cheng Jiajia. At the same moment, they also spotted Feng Ning.

Cheng Jiajia stood rooted there, her expression complicated. “Can you come out with me for a moment?”

Jiang Wen didn’t move for a long while.

After waiting about a minute, seeing he hadn’t reacted, Cheng Jiajia said, “Let’s get things clear between us.”

“Clear about what?”

Cheng Jiajia bit her lower lip. “You’re sure you want to talk about it here?”

Jiang Wen said nothing.

Feng Ning kept a solemn expression, watching Jiang Wen follow Cheng Jiajia out through the door. Deep down she couldn’t help feeling a pang of regret—what a shame, being stuck in line, such a shame, otherwise she’d have loved to follow along and watch them perform their youth idol drama!

The sunlight was scorching, the mugginess clinging to everyone like a shadow, suffocating and sticky. He hadn’t noticed it before, but now his head was starting to ache faintly.

His heart felt like a chemical test tube filled with medication—even a gentle breeze could ignite his impatience.

Cheng Jiajia had a hint of tears glistening in her eyes. “So, you really intend to break up with me, is that it?”

Jiang Wen said nothing, his face still betraying no obvious emotion.

She turned her head away, holding back her tears, then turned back and continued, “That day everyone was eating together, they were all your friends, it got so out of hand, and you left without a word, leaving me there alone—you don’t intend to explain anything to me?”

“Sorry.”

“You clearly knew that when I said breakup, it was just angry words, why couldn’t you even coax me a little bit? I didn’t really mean it like that.”

Cheng Jiajia was shaking with anger. “Do you know how hard these past two days have been for me? We just broke up, and you’re out buying milk tea with another girl—are you two together? You like her?”

She was emotionally invested, while his heart couldn’t settle down. His eyes were fixed on the milk tea shop’s entrance, hung with a few sunny-day dolls, Cherry Maruko smiling brilliantly. Further away, there was a row of trees, black telephone poles, white clouds, blue sky, the colors uneven.

Jiang Wen started imagining what she’d look like with short hair.

“Fine, then let me ask a different question.” Cheng Jiajia clenched her hands. “You don’t like me anymore, right?”

There were kids running wild on the roadside; his attention wasn’t very focused. “Yeah.”

“Then did you ever like me?”

After a long while, she heard Jiang Wen speak:

“No.”

Their conversation ended there.