After leaving the elevator from the basement level, Zhang Lian didn’t walk toward his parking spot but stood in place, taking out his phone from his pocket.

Five seconds later, Zhou Mi called.

He glanced at it and casually answered: “Hello.”

The girl’s breathing was slightly rapid: “Did my mom contact you?”

Zhang Lian replied: “Yes, your mother called me, saying you weren’t home yet and that you didn’t care about your health, working so hard without completing your postpartum recovery period. I told her I would drive you home.”

There was silence for a few seconds on the other end, then a very quiet complaint: “So annoying.”

Zhang Lian laughed: “So what’s it going to be, come with me or take the subway?”

Zhou Mi didn’t make a sound, her thoughts twisting like a braided rope.

Zhang Lian’s patience ran out as he began walking between the cars, choosing her: “Wait at exit A.”

—

When Zhou Mi sat in Zhang Lian’s passenger seat, her mood was like the dark shadow covering the car roof, as if overshadowed by a black cloud.

After she fastened her seatbelt, Zhang Lian glanced at her: “Why are you making things difficult?”

Zhou Mi pressed her lips: “How am I making things difficult?”

Zhang Lian looked straight ahead: “What’s wrong with me driving you home?”

Zhou Mi immediately pulled out an excuse she had improvised along the way: “What if someone from the company sees us?”

Zhang Lian said, “That’s why I told you to wait where I specified.”

Zhou Mi smiled, her tone sarcastic: “Wow, you’re so familiar with these locations. I guess you’ve sneaked around with plenty of pretty girls from the building.”

“Mm,” Zhang Lian responded flatly: “Getting her into the car is harder than climbing to heaven.”

As soon as he finished speaking, they drove over a speed bump and left the underground garage. The light from the roadside greenery instantly flooded the car.

With this jolt, Zhou Mi suddenly felt like an empty carbonated drink can, all her anger dissipating. She leaned back against the seat, rubbing the strap of her bag, and remained silent for the rest of the journey.

The car drove directly into Zhou Mi’s residential complex.

Due to the older residential layout, the parking spaces were far less orderly and reasonable than newer housing developments. Especially at night, when residents had returned home, cars were parked haphazardly, making the narrow roads seem even more crowded. With nearly a third of the street lights broken, the winding paths resembled a black maze.

Tree shadows swayed outside the window as Zhang Lian drove with low beams, reducing speed.

He was extremely patient, managing to inch his way to Zhou Mi’s building at less than 20 km/h.

Zhou Mi unfastened her seatbelt, said thank you, and was about to open the car door when she realized Zhang Lian hadn’t unlocked it.

She looked at him and reminded him, “I want to get out.”

Zhang Lian glanced at her, taking his left hand off the steering wheel: “Pack some things tonight. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning to go to my place.”

Zhou Mi’s eyelashes raised high: “Isn’t that too soon?”

Zhang Lian asked: “When were you planning to go?”

Zhou Mi replied: “I haven’t decided yet. I’ll think about it when I get home.”

She remembered their earlier messages, her eyes brightening in the dim light: “Why are you in such a hurry?”

Then she solemnly declared: “Even if I go, I won’t sleep together with you.”

Zhang Lian curved his lips slightly, his emotion subdued: “The second bedroom has already been prepared for you.”

“That’s fine then,” Zhou Mi clicked the door handle, expressing disagreement in an unfriendly tone: “You don’t need to lock the door every time you ask about something. It feels like you’re about to commit a crime.”

Zhang Lian half-turned his face, his expression unchanged, just looking at her, his gaze steady and casual, with a clear coldness.

After a moment, he said: “If I wanted to commit a crime, would you still be able to speak right now?”

Zhou Mi was already extremely uncomfortable under his gaze, and now she couldn’t help feeling anxious.

She pressed her lips together for a few seconds, her tone slightly warning: “You’d better let me out now.”

Zhang Lian slowly narrowed his eyes, like a cheetah’s dangerous warning before an ambush: “What if I don’t?”

Zhou Mi clenched her fists, her chest rising and falling, thinking about how to intimidate him back.

“Let me tell you.” Zhang Lian suddenly turned off the headlights.

The entire car plunged into darkness.

After a brief rustle of clothing, Zhou Mi was caught off guard as her chin was grasped, and true night pressed against her face.

A warmth on her lips, Zhou Mi instinctively turned her face to avoid it, but was controlled back, fiercely sucked and bitten.

Their breaths entangled chaotically. A car with high beams passed from behind, its daylight-white beam crushing over the two of them.

In the tension, Zhou Mi involuntarily made an “mm” sound, smooth and soft. Zhang Lian’s kiss immediately became more layered, each movement deepening and intensifying. Her lips were enveloped like berries, pressed, emitting sticky and broken sounds.

When Zhou Mi pushed against Zhang Lian’s shoulders for the second time, he finally released her.

Zhou Mi sat rigidly in place, her face and neck flushed red, like someone who had just escaped from a pouring rain, breathing violently, staring at him without blinking.

Zhang Lian sat back straight, his Adam’s apple moving once. He didn’t turn on the lights, only unlocked the car.

He remained motionless, the jawline of his profile sharp and clear. After the intense release, he recovered his composure with surprising speed.

Zhou Mi wanted to curse, but her mind was like boiling water, completely unable to find the right words. She simply slammed the door as she got out of the car and walked rapidly toward the stairwell without looking back.

The gentle breeze blew against her face. Suddenly, the car lights illuminated both sides of the path.

Zhou Mi froze, feeling as if she would be completely exposed in this light, almost running away.

Stopping at her doorstep, the detached sensations finally returned to her body.

A cool sensation like ice water lingered on her lips. Zhou Mi frowned, raised her hand to wipe it forcefully, then took out her key to open the door.

Tang Peili was in the kitchen making noodles for herself. Seeing her come in, she quickly stretched her neck to peek behind the window, asking loudly: “Did Zhang Lian leave? That’s his car, right? Why didn’t you invite him up for a late-night snack before he left?”

Zhou Mi didn’t respond, roughly kicked off her canvas shoes, and threw her slippers heavily onto the floor.

Tang Peili glanced at the entrance: “What are you doing?”

Zhou Mi slipped them on and walked quickly back to her bedroom.

She threw herself back onto the bed, her chest like summer wheat waves, rolling with heat, anger, humiliation, and perhaps other emotions.

Her mind was in chaos, difficult to resolve. Zhou Mi slid back to the floor from the bed and walked fiercely toward the kitchen.

Tang Peili was using long chopsticks to put the thin white noodles into a soup bowl. Seeing her come out, she immediately smiled broadly: “Oh, you’ve come out just in time! Mom just prepared a bowl for you!”

Zhou Mi stopped outside the sliding door and called out neither lightly nor heavily: “Mom.”

Tang Peili efficiently ladled soup with a stainless steel spoon, mixing in the sauce for her: “What is it?”

The kitchen was suddenly filled with a fresh aroma. Zhou Mi bit her lip, silent for a few seconds: “Zhang Lian and I—”

Tang Peili held the bowl, then quickly put it down as it was too hot, pinched her ears a couple of times, not raising her head: “What’s the matter?”

Zhou Mi’s nose turned sour, her voice unconsciously aggrieved: “…Mom, why aren’t you asleep yet?”

“I was worried you’d come back hungry and not eat,” Tang Peili replied, then asked curiously: “What about you and Zhang Lian? Finish what you were saying.”

Zhou Mi took a light breath: “…We fought.”

Tang Peili made a dismissive sound, took the cloth hanging on the faucet, and rewrapped the noodle bowl: “No wonder you’re changing shoes like you’re staging a rebellion. Aren’t you afraid the neighbors downstairs will come up to scold you?”

“You’ve been together for half a year and still in the honeymoon phase, yet you want to tell the whole world about a little argument?” she teased as she passed her daughter, placing the bowl on the table: “Eat your noodles first. Young couples having little spats, making such a big deal out of it.”

Zhou Mi had nowhere to vent, so she sat back at the table and buried her head in her noodles.

Tang Peili went back to the kitchen to wash the pot, and mother and daughter peacefully coexisted.

After a while, the phone beside her vibrated. Zhou Mi glanced at the screen, freed her right hand, and without hesitation pressed the reject button.

Soon after, a voice message popped up on WeChat.

Zhou Mi continued to hang up and remove him from the pinned list.

The phone went silent. Zhou Mi picked up the soft-boiled egg her mother had prepared, split it into two half-circles, and dipped them into the delicious shrimp roe soup, one on the left, one on the right.

Just as she was about to take a bite, a text message notification popped up on WeChat.

Zhou Mi’s chopsticks paused, unable to resist, she set aside half the egg and clicked to see.

It was a message from Zhang Lian, filled with goodwill and apology between the lines: I was wrong just now.

Zhou Mi pursed her lips, didn’t reply, a feeling of bitterness welling up in her heart, like a yellowish road surface after a light rain.

She didn’t read it a second time and was about to put her phone down when two more messages popped up in succession.

Zhang Lian: You can come whenever you want. I will respect your thoughts and won’t act rashly again.

Zhang Lian: But the sooner the better, your advisor is urging me every day.

Tang Peili noticed her daughter’s complex expression and the continuous WeChat notification sounds, and couldn’t help but smile: “Is Zhang Lian contacting you now?”

Mindful of her mother beside her, Zhou Mi couldn’t continue to ignore him, so she clutched her phone in her hand and slowly responded with an “mm.”

Shortly after, Zhang Lian said: Get some rest early.

Under her mother’s teasing gaze, Zhou Mi still insisted on not replying a single word, silently turning off her phone and putting it back in its place.

Tang Peili snorted: “You’re something, aren’t you? Playing hard to get.”

Zhou Mi: “…”

Zhou Mi looked at her mother again: “Mom, can you stop calling Zhang Lian?”

Tang Peili replied irritably: “Does calling you work? Talking to him is more effective.”

Zhou Mi was speechless, not responding with the last word, lowering her head to slurp her noodles.

After finishing the noodles, Zhou Mi returned to her bedroom, sitting at her desk and spacing out.

After a while, she covered her face with both hands, maintaining this posture for nearly a minute, then gently rubbed her cheeks, left her chair, opened her suitcase, and began organizing her things.

After mostly packing, Zhou Mi sprawled back on her bed, holding her phone up to her eyes, switching to the contacts list.

She dragged down one by one, finally stopping on the line “Brother Wolf.”

Staring at it expressionlessly for a while, Zhou Mi clicked on it, deleted everything, and replaced it with two other characters—his real name: Zhang Lian.

After completing all this, Zhou Mi sat cross-legged, straightening her body, and directly notified him via text message: “Come pick me up at 8:30 tomorrow morning. Thanks in advance for tonight’s hazing.”

After a while, Zhang Lian’s message came back, unusually without a retort: I’ll be there on time. Good night, Zhou Mi.