Ruan Yu was in no mood to eat.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You should replenish your energy after running three kilometers,” he said, giving her shoulder a gentle push forward.

From You Yuexuan’s angle, it looked as if Teng Yi was embracing Ruan Yu as they walked.

She couldn’t help but wonder when Ruan Yu and Teng Yi had become connected. These two people belonged to different worlds, with absolutely nothing in common.

Ruan Yu was led by Teng Yi through the administration building. His car was parked beside the flower bed in the small park, with a few fallen leaves dancing back and forth on the windshield until they got caught in the wipers.

Teng Yi opened the car door for her.

Ruan Yu’s elbow caught on the soft top, refusing to get in.

“What’s wrong?” Teng Yi looked at her.

Her complexion hadn’t recovered yet. In the sunlight, she looked like a piece of translucent jade – white and bright, but lacking color.

“You heard everything just now, didn’t you?” she asked softly.

“So what if I heard everything? Are you planning to never see me again?”

She lowered her head, her brows slightly furrowed as if seriously considering this proposition.

Teng Yi simply pushed her into the car and closed the door. The cabin was warm from the sun. When he got in and started the car, he opened the windows but kept the top up.

The car drove out through Yangshan’s main gate.

There were many places to eat around the school, but Teng Yi seemed to want to go somewhere further. He drove north, onto Maple Avenue, and headed to Chang’an Street.

Ruan Yu wasn’t a native of Liao City. Her impression of Chang’an Street remained frozen in the city’s promotional videos – houses with black tiles and white walls, winding rivers, paths paved with goose-soft stones, and streets with classical charm.

Teng Yi parked his car in the parking lot at the entrance of Chang’an Street and led her into an unremarkable small shop. Perhaps because it was past regular meal hours, there were no customers inside, only the shop owners – husband and wife – sitting by the window peeling yellow string beans.

Seeing Teng Yi, the owner stood up.

“Why so late?”

“Waited for a friend, so we’re delayed.”

The owner glanced at Ruan Yu, nodded with a smile, and turned to enter the kitchen.

The owner’s wife cleaned up the yellow string beans on the table, gave them the window seats, and handed over the menu, deliberately placing it in front of Ruan Yu.

“Order,” Teng Yi said.

Ruan Yu looked at the menu. It was very detailed, with each dish accompanied by photos, ingredients, and seasonings, even listing the preparation steps.

“You should order instead,” Ruan Yu pushed the menu in front of Teng Yi.

From the conversation between Teng Yi and the owner when they first entered, she could tell that Teng Yi was a regular there. Letting a regular customer order would never go wrong.

“So I’ll just order whatever?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Teng Yi ordered with familiar ease and returned the menu to the owner’s wife.

The owner’s wife tallied up his orders and couldn’t help but laugh: “This isn’t just ‘whatever’ – you’ve ordered all our best dishes.”

“Thank you for your trouble,” Teng Yi smiled.

The owner’s wife cheerfully went to the kitchen.

The hall suddenly fell quiet, with only the sound of oars and water from the black-awning boats outside the window.

The atmosphere was peaceful, but Ruan Yu’s heart was not at peace.

Since entering, Teng Yi’s gaze had always been on her, but she sat there listlessly, resting her chin on her hand, never meeting his eyes.

She was avoiding – though she wasn’t sure if she was avoiding him or that moment he had accidentally witnessed.