Leaving the mall, Song Cong walked aimlessly along the street, simply not wanting to return yet. Even the wind felt unfamiliar in this first-time visited city, warm and dry as it brushed against his face.

He thought about Huan’er’s question –

How many secret deals are there between you two that I don’t know about?

To be precise, it started when Jing Qichi changed his college application.

That summer after the college entrance exam, Song Cong seriously considered confessing. He’d thought about it from the moment he handed in his last exam paper, through getting the results, all the way to filling out college applications. Before he could decide, on what must have been a thunderous afternoon, Jing Qichi said, “I changed my application. I have to stay by Chen Huan’er’s side.”

They were probably testing the Notes Alliance website at the time, and Jing Qichi just said it so matter-of-factly.

Actually, with those words, Song Cong understood – that girl they walked to and from school with, the one he liked, Jing Qichi liked her too.

But he still asked why.

“No reason. Chen Huan’er watched over me before, now it’s my turn to watch over her.”

That was Jing Qichi’s answer. Song Cong thought he understood, but the one in the midst of it might not have understood yet. His decision, that modified application form, would affect all unknown fate from then on – he had equated his determined protection with this destiny.

Song Cong made his choice right then, choosing to keep the secret in his heart.

He wasn’t as brave as Jing Qichi, who could change his university choice – a decision affecting four years of college life and even his future career – so readily. Nor would he ever turn against him; his mother’s logistics position relied entirely on Mrs. Jing’s connections – the Jing family had shown them both kindness and favor.

Song Cong had simply learned adult thinking earlier than his peers, understanding what could and couldn’t be done.

Back then, he told Jing Qichi, “If anyone bullies Huan’er, I’m coming after you.”

Later, Chen Huan’er got a boyfriend, very suddenly, appearing out of nowhere without warning. Song Cong didn’t understand – his brother had chased her so far, how did someone else cut in halfway? During one holiday when they were drinking, Jing Qichi, completely drunk, revealed his inner thoughts: “I wasn’t sure how she felt, so I never dared.”

What if things got awkward? What if they couldn’t remain friends? What if they could never go back to how things were? One concern after another – Song Cong understood because he had once been the same way.

That step seemed easy but was a huge gamble with oneself at stake.

Frankly, this wasn’t a deal – it was just a choice Song Cong made at eighteen.

Just as now, standing at the green light, Qi Qi called. He could either walk away or go back.

After four rings, Song Cong answered. A tearful voice came through, “Where did you go? Why aren’t you back yet?”

“I’m coming back.” Song Cong looked up at the green light once more and turned around.

Just as Huan’er exited the subway station, she received a call from Jing Qichi asking, “Where are you?”

“I’m at…” She looked up to see his back, phone in hand. At the same moment, a siren wailed, its urgent sound growing closer, followed by a red fire truck racing past in a flash.

Jing Qichi stood frozen, only his head following the truck until it disappeared into the distance.

“Qichi,” Huan’er called into the phone.

No response. He stood with his back to her, phone still at his ear.

Huan’er put away her phone and walked over, tapping his shoulder from behind, “Qichi.”

“Hm? Oh, you’re here.” Jing Qichi finally ended the call, looking around somewhat confused, “Which exit did you come from? Just arrived? There are so many people here today, I was still looking…”

Before, when something bothered him, he would fall into complete silence, remaining gloomy no matter how much you asked or teased. Now, somehow, it was the opposite – as if he needed to say many trivial things to fill the void inside.

Pretending had inexplicably become a required course in life.

But Qichi, you don’t need to pretend in front of me. Huan’er just looked at him, her heart suddenly aching.

She instinctively rose on her tiptoes and gently hugged him, like embracing a giant teddy bear, “There, there, don’t think about it anymore.”

Even though she knew Jing Qichi couldn’t possibly stop thinking about it – no matter how much time passed, he would keep thinking about it.

About that day, about that person.

Jing Qichi’s chin brushed against her neck, his stubble slightly prickly. But she couldn’t share his sorrow, couldn’t repair his memories, couldn’t make up for his regrets – this hug was the only thing she could give him right now. Huan’er ruffled his hair, “Jing Qichi, have you grown taller again?”

She let go and smiled at him.

“Maybe.” Jing Qichi’s lips twitched, but his expression remained visibly dim, “I won’t go back this year.”

“Uncle Jing is too magnanimous to hold it against you.” Huan’er tilted her head, “It’s strange though – both your parents are so tolerant, where did you get this grudge-holding habit from?”

It was most obvious on the soccer field – if someone tripped him, he’d chase them across the entire field to return the tackle.

“I’m not like that.” The young man stubbornly denied it, stuffing his hands in his pockets and leading the way, “Did you get them settled in?”

Huan’er recalled the headache-inducing situation, “Don’t mention it. They had a huge fight as soon as they got to their place, don’t know if they’ve made up yet.”

“About what?”

“Because…” She shook her head, “I can’t explain it.”

“No wonder old Song was acting weird.” Jing Qichi frowned, “He just messaged me saying you’d left and wanted to have dinner together tomorrow night. You, me, and him – no Qi Qi.”

Huan’er startled, “It’s not a trap, is it!”

“Go study your Chinese again, Ms. Graduate Student.” Jing Qichi tapped her forehead, “It would only be a trap if Qi Qi invited us.”

Huan’er made a dismissive sound, walked quietly for a while, then asked, “You’re not planning to go to graduate school?”

In the final year of university, suddenly many people around them were studying, as if everyone had just belatedly found their future direction.

“No.” His answer was quick and decisive.

“Then what are your plans for after?”

Jing Qichi turned the question back, “What are your plans?”

Huan’er gave him a look, “I’m not in a hurry to think about it.”

Now he laughed, “Then what’s the use of just me being in a hurry?”

Between truth and jest, Huan’er couldn’t tell if this guy was carefree or a master of ambiguity.

She decided to ignore him.

“Your plans are very…” Jing Qichi paused mid-sentence, looking at her.

What was in Huan’er’s eyes?

Perhaps, maybe, possibly a bit of expectation.

If that’s the case-

Jing Qichi rubbed his nose, changing course, “…important reference for me.”

Huan’er turned away with a “hmph.”

Feeling disappointed, Chen Huan’er? Jing Qichi glanced at her pursed lips. Good, you should be disappointed.

Half an hour before lights out, Huan’er unexpectedly received a message from Tian Chi: “Have something to give you, waiting downstairs.”

First contact since the cinema incident.

She stared at the message for a while, then grabbed her jacket from the chair back, put it on, and went downstairs without checking the mirror.

She went to meet him because she had adjusted her mindset – she wouldn’t cry or hit anyone, meeting the standard for encountering an ex.

At the usual spot below the girls’ dormitory, Tian Chi came alone. Like many nights in the past when he’d sent her back and they’d parted reluctantly, Tian Chi raised his hand with a smile.

Huan’er walked over wordlessly, her face expressionless.

It wasn’t intentional – the day had been exhausting enough, and she couldn’t be bothered to manage her expressions in front of irrelevant people.

Tian Chi handed over a copy of “Neuropsychology,” his tone sounding somewhat ingratiating to Huan’er’s ears, “Should return this book to you. I heard the news – congratulations on your graduate school admission.”

Like a child who hasn’t received New Year’s money yet, being exceptionally polite and well-behaved, not realizing adults won’t give more for good behavior or less for being noisy. Children don’t understand predetermined outcomes, always thinking attitude can influence decisions.

Huan’er took it, waiting for him to continue.

She just felt that a simple “sorry” couldn’t explain the whole thing.

It was dorm curfew time, and familiar female students passing by looked in their direction. Huan’er forced a smile and waved to them.

There was no need to make a big announcement about breaking up; this scene would probably be mistaken for lovers’ lingering.

Tian Chi paused for a moment, “Since you’re staying at the university, we’re bound to…”

Huan’er turned and left before he finished.

He had never intended to explain. Even today, when Chen Huan’er just wanted the truth, he still hadn’t thought about explaining.

“Huan’er.” Tian Chi caught up and blocked her path, but fell silent after stopping.

She narrowed her eyes, examining him, “We’re bound to see each other, right? Then what?”

“I didn’t mean anything else.” Tian Chi reached out to grab her, but his arm slowly dropped back down.

“I don’t mean anything else either.” Huan’er pulled her jacket tighter, crossing her arms in the process, “Just one request.”

Tian Chi looked at her, “Go ahead.”

“Please, both of you, avoid me when you see me in the future.” Huan’er met his gaze, her voice completely steady, “Because it makes me sick.”

After saying this, she walked around him and went straight upstairs.

The book was new, its plastic wrapping seeming to desperately prove its worth – representing that they now owed each other nothing.

Back in the dorm, Huan’er threw it directly into the drawer. The book was innocent; even donating it would benefit others.

She took off her jacket and went to the bathroom to wash up.

While brushing her teeth, Huang Lu’s cursing came from outside, “Damn that bastard Tian Chi.”

Huan’er came out holding her toothbrush. Huang Lu, lazily lying in bed with a face mask, kicked her legs and sat up, holding out her phone, “See for yourself.”

Just now, Tian Chi posted a text moment: “Wish I could accompany you the whole way, but now I can only wish you happiness.”

Huang Lu ripped off her face mask and started cursing, “Now I know guys can be such drama queens too. Was he dumped or did they break up mutually that he dares post like this? Does he have no self-awareness? Now he’s playing the victim for the whole world? Chen Huan’er, I’m about to expose this scumbag.”

“Don’t.” Huan’er stopped her, putting the phone back on the bed, “Don’t waste your breath, just delete him.”

“You can swallow this? He hasn’t even deleted your photos together, what’s with this deep love act? Can’t you see he’s paving the way for himself?”

How could she not see? Their actions were just to rationalize motives, and Tian Chi’s motives were written all over his face.

“I don’t want any more connection with him.”

Making a scene would inevitably lead to the narrative of a cheated-on ex-girlfriend being pitied and gossiped about. Chen Huan’er didn’t want to stand in the spotlight for people to judge.

Huang Lu threw her phone down and flopped onto the bed, “So frustrating.”

Huan’er returned to the bathroom to finish washing up. When she came out, the first thing she did was delete all contact information related to him.

Once-inseparable lovers who had sworn eternal love could become strangers after breaking up, never to cross paths again.

Because the breakup was unpleasant, too brutal, leaving no attachment.

She wasn’t an exception, just happened to encounter such an ending.