Because of her insomnia, Chen Qingwu gave up her morning walk and didn’t get up until after eight o’clock.

Coming downstairs, she saw everyone was there—an unprecedented full attendance.

“Qingwu is the last one up today,” Meng Chengyong said with a laugh.

Chen Qingwu felt a bit embarrassed. “Mm… I forgot to set my alarm.”

She pulled out a dining chair and sat down. Meng Qiran, who had originally been sitting across from her next to Meng Chengyong, immediately got up and moved to sit beside her, passing her a salad bowl filled with blueberries.

Chen Qingwu thanked him.

Across from them, Meng Chengyong chuckled, as if amused that Meng Qiran wanted to stick close to her the moment they met.

The dining table was laden with rich offerings—fried eggs, grilled sausages, toasted bread, pan-fried dumplings, custard buns… emphasizing a “fusion of Chinese and Western” cuisine.

These were all delivered by the hotel, but Qilin preferred to have a hot bowl of rice noodles in the morning, so she was currently cooking noodles in the kitchen herself.

Qilin had always been someone who carefully cultivated her life. For a long period during childhood, Chen Qingwu especially loved staying at the Meng family home, not only because she could play with Qiran, but also because the Meng family atmosphere was always relaxed and harmonious, like a safe harbor where she could temporarily breathe easy.

Qilin and Meng Chengyong were exceptionally kind to her. Setting aside the courtesy shown to a friend’s daughter, their tolerance and care still carried substantial weight.

Back when she had insisted on applying to study ceramics, Chen Suiliang had been furiously angry, sternly opposed, and completely unyielding.

Qilin and Meng Chengyong had done considerable ideological work on Chen Suiliang, saying what era was this to still interfere with children’s choices, that it was rare for a child to have something she liked, and the family wasn’t lacking in resources, so why not help her achieve her dreams.

Once, Qilin had even secretly told her to go ahead and study, not to worry—at worst, the Meng family would cover all her university and study abroad tuition. At that time, when Chen Qingwu and Chen Suiliang were at daggers drawn, these words, whether empty promises or not, had given her tremendous comfort.

“Qingwu, do you want some rice noodles?” Qilin turned to ask.

Chen Qingwu looked over.

Meng Fuyuan was standing beside Qilin helping out, seemingly preparing the soup base seasonings.

“What kind of noodles are they? Fine or thick?” Chen Qingwu asked.

“Which do you prefer, fine or thick?”

“Slightly finer ones.”

“Well, I’m not sure if these count as fine,” Qilin said with a laugh. “Why don’t you come over and see for yourself?”

Chen Qingwu hesitated for a moment, then got up and walked over.

Qilin shifted slightly to the side.

The space she made available was right next to Meng Fuyuan’s left side.

Chen Qingwu occupied that empty spot and looked at the rice noodles bundled on the cutting board. “Is there enough for more? Then I’ll have a bowl too.”

Qilin grabbed a bundle and asked Chen Qingwu, “Is this much enough?”

“That’s enough.”

Qilin put the rice noodles into a strainer and dipped it into the soup pot.

Beside her, Meng Fuyuan took another bowl and added scallions, ginger, garlic, sesame oil, and various small seasonings, deliberately avoiding peanut crumbles.

Chen Qingwu glanced sideways—he wore a white casual shirt with rolled-up sleeves, preparing these ingredients as if he were preparing reagents in a chemistry lab, precise and composed.

From her earliest memories, Chen Qingwu remembered that Meng Fuyuan would participate in all household chores.

Strangely enough, if she were just meeting Meng Fuyuan now for the first time, she would definitely think he was a man who would never touch mundane matters.

But because she had known him since childhood, and had even seen him stand on a stool to change the light bulb in her bedroom, everything he did seemed perfectly reasonable.

“I don’t want ginger bits,” Chen Qingwu reminded him.

Meng Fuyuan’s gaze didn’t waver. “I know.”

His voice was neither light nor heavy, extremely flat, yet Chen Qingwu felt her heart skip, afraid someone might read into it.

Fortunately, Qilin beside them was focused on cooking the noodles and showed no reaction.

The blanched noodles were placed in the bowl, a ladle of rich broth was poured in, and oil droplets floated up along with the fragrance.

Chen Qingwu reached out to take it, but Meng Fuyuan said flatly, “Go sit down, I’ll bring it over.”

That tone made Chen Qingwu feel as if she’d returned to before she knew he liked her—a tone that would never make outsiders think anything of it, somewhat cool, brotherly care.

When it came to acting, Meng Fuyuan was superior after all.

A moment later, Meng Fuyuan carried two bowls of noodle soup to the living room and placed one in front of Chen Qingwu.

Chen Qingwu also quite normally said, “Thank you.”

Meng Qiran glanced at Chen Qingwu, withdrew his gaze, and continued eating his toast.

This morning’s plan was to visit the duty-free shop, have lunch out, then return to the villa for free time in the afternoon.

Chen Qingwu went back to her room for an afternoon nap and came downstairs around two o’clock, having changed into a swimsuit.

The villa had its own pool in the back—not large in area, but winning points for privacy.

Passing through the stone path shaded by traveler’s palms and fiddle-leaf figs, the pool appeared before her eyes.

Meng Qiran was doing laps in the pool, while on the poolside outdoor chair sat Meng Fuyuan reading a magazine.

Just thinking about this scene gave her a headache. Chen Qingwu was about to turn back when Meng Fuyuan spotted her.

“Qingwu.”

Chen Qingwu had no choice but to walk over under Meng Fuyuan’s seemingly amused gaze.

Meng Qiran turned in the water and swam to the pool’s edge, resting both arms on it and looking at Chen Qingwu. “Done with your nap?”

“Mm.”

His hair was still dripping water, the ink-black hair making his skin look cool and pale. The young man had a well-defined but not exaggerated physique—setting aside all other factors, objectively speaking, he deserved the description “dangerously attractive.”

Chen Qingwu naturally had no interest in admiring this. After warming up, she stepped into the pool.

Meng Qiran turned around, leaning his back against the pool edge, elbows propped behind him, watching Chen Qingwu glide lightly through the water, but his words were directed at Meng Fuyuan behind him: “Bro, until what date can you stay on vacation?”

Meng Fuyuan raised his head slightly, his gaze behind the lenses looking at Meng Qiran, waiting for him to continue.

“We’re leaving on the sixth. Will you take the same flight as Wuwu and me?”

Meng Fuyuan didn’t even blink as he withdrew his gaze, his voice extremely flat. “My flight is tomorrow afternoon.”

“Only a few days off?”

“What else.”

Meng Qiran said nothing more.

Meng Fuyuan calmly turned another page of his magazine.

Purely from intuition, Meng Qiran’s words seemed to carry a hint of probing.

Meng Qiran turned around, pushed off with his arms, and nimbly exited the pool. “Want some coconut, Wuwu? I’ll go open a couple.”

“Oh… sure, thank you.”

By the time Chen Qingwu finished this lap and turned her head to look, Meng Qiran’s figure had already disappeared beneath the tree shadows.

She floated at one end of the pool, looking toward Meng Fuyuan at the other end, not approaching. “You’re going back tomorrow?”

Meng Fuyuan looked up. “Mm.”

“Oh.”

Meng Fuyuan gazed at her and gave a soft laugh. “A little disappointed?”

“…I don’t know how you conjured that out of thin air.”

Outside the backyard fence, tall tropical plants were planted, their broad leaves blocking out the sun and sky.

Meng Fuyuan sat somewhat relaxed in this cool, gloomy light, his white shirt and shorts dappled with scattered spots of light.

The sound of wind mixed with the rustling of leaves and the flutter of magazine pages turning.

Extremely quiet.

Meng Fuyuan’s gaze fell on the magazine pages as he suddenly said, “You swam well just now.”

In that instant, Chen Qingwu remembered that Meng Fuyuan had taught her how to swim.

It was during the summer vacation when she was seven, together with Meng Qiran. Qiran was athletically gifted and learned everything quickly, soon able to tumble freely in the pool.

Only she kept choking on water, over and over.

But Meng Fuyuan, who usually had a cold face, was surprisingly patient, teaching her once if she didn’t get it, twice if once wasn’t enough, three times if twice wasn’t enough.

When learning to hold her breath, he stood beside her counting and timing—one, two, three, four… neither hurried nor slow.

Whenever she held her breath even one second longer than the last time, he would calmly encourage her: “That was good, you’re making progress.”

She remembered how she had simply wished as a child that Meng Fuyuan was her real older brother—then her father wouldn’t be so disappointed, and she could have a moment’s respite.

Those now somewhat hazy memories, layered with Meng Fuyuan’s current feelings for her, somehow evoked in her a complex emotion she couldn’t resolve.

She suddenly pinched her nose and dove underwater.

Meng Fuyuan heard the sound and looked up, instinctively counting in his mind: one, two, three, four…

Thirty, thirty-one…

She was physically weak; her limit was thirty-two seconds.

Chen Qingwu didn’t surface.

Meng Fuyuan startled. “Qingwu!”

He dropped his magazine and stood up, jumping into the pool without hesitation.

Just then, Chen Qingwu suddenly emerged from the water, wiping the water droplets from her face with one hand. Looking up, she froze—she had never seen such a panicked expression on Meng Fuyuan’s face before.

Meng Fuyuan just stood there in the water looking at her. “…What are you doing?”

“I can hold my breath for over forty seconds now. I wanted to show you…”

Chen Qingwu’s voice trailed off because Meng Fuyuan’s expression was exceptionally stern and cold.

She immediately paddled over to him. Before she could speak, Meng Fuyuan suddenly reached out and grabbed her arm.

The buoyancy of the water pushed her instantly into his embrace.

She froze in shock.

The hem of his white shirt floated on the water’s surface, and the palm pressed firmly against her back was alarmingly cold.

Her body pressed against his chest, and she could hear the extremely rapid heartbeat within.

From behind the tree shadows, faint footsteps suddenly came, the sound of slippers treading over stone pavement.

Chen Qingwu, frightened, quickly raised her hand and pushed against Meng Fuyuan’s chest, using the water current to slide backward and quickly distance herself.

Meng Fuyuan, unhurried, turned around, removed the watch from his wrist, and pushed himself out of the pool.

A figure flashed around the corner—Meng Qiran emerged carrying three coconuts.

He looked at the dripping wet Meng Fuyuan and paused. “Bro, you went in the water?”

“Retrieving my watch.”

Chen Qingwu listened to Meng Fuyuan calmly lie, her heartbeat still continuously losing control.

Meng Qiran couldn’t help but glance at his hand.

A black sports watch, still dripping water.

Meng Qiran placed the tray with the coconuts on the outdoor table. Meng Fuyuan walked straight toward the exit, saying flatly, “I’m going inside. You two be careful in the pool.”

Meng Qiran nodded.

After Meng Fuyuan’s figure disappeared, Meng Qiran looked at Chen Qingwu. “Did something just happen?”

“No… I borrowed Yuan-gege’s watch to time myself, accidentally dropped it in the water, and he went in to help retrieve it.”

Meng Qiran said nothing more and told her to come up and drink coconut water.

Chen Qingwu got out, wrapped herself in a towel, sat down on a lounge chair, grabbed a coconut, and took two sips through the straw.

After the panic came guilt.

She lowered her eyes. “Qiran.”

Meng Qiran turned to look at her.

“…Don’t try to pursue me anymore. I’m not worth it.”

Meng Qiran laughed. “What kind of nonsense is that?”

“…I’m serious.”

He held a coconut in one hand and propped his cheek with the other, tilting his head to study her, asking somewhat lazily, “Where are you not worth it?”

“Nowhere am I worth it. I’m not at all like the person you think I am.”

Meng Qiran stared at her, instantly dropping that lazy attitude and saying seriously, “Then give me a chance to get to know the completely different you.”

Chen Qingwu was momentarily at a loss for words, that coconut water seeming to become a hard lump stuck in her throat.

In the evening, everyone went to the night market.

There was a large seafood market here where you could select and buy fresh items, then take them to surrounding restaurants for cooking.

After eating their fill of fresh seafood and walking out of the restaurant, the night market was entering its most lively moment.

One stall sold pearl blind boxes—all the pearls were packed in small jewelry boxes for random selection.

Inside, the worst were freshwater pearl earrings, and the best, according to the vendor, was a pale pink South Sea pearl.

The blind boxes cost fifty yuan each. Both mothers and Chen Qingwu each bought one, but all only got ordinary freshwater pearl bracelets and earrings.

Chen Qingwu said with a laugh, “I’ve never once gotten a hidden prize from a blind box.”

Standing beside her, Meng Qiran looked down. “Want to try again?”

Chen Qingwu shook her head. “No need, I wouldn’t have anywhere to wear more anyway.”

Everyone continued forward and came to a stall selling moonstone bracelets.

The vendor was smooth-talking and praised everyone before finally looking at Meng Qiran with a broad smile. “Young man, buy a bracelet for your girlfriend! Our moonstones are truly magical—eighty percent of couples who bought our moonstones got married!”

Meng Fuyuan looked up.

Today everyone had dressed in tropical-style clothing—both mothers in floral sundresses, both fathers and Meng Qiran in printed shirts and shorts.

Chen Qingwu wore a camisole and a wrap skirt, also in an intricate floral pattern.

She and Meng Qiran standing together, both in bright clothes and both equally good-looking, would certainly appear perfectly matched to outsiders.

Chen Qingwu said, “I’m not—”

“Not doesn’t matter! Our moonstones are also very effective for attracting romance!”

Meng Qiran said, “We’ll take one.”

“Great!” The vendor gave no chance for refusal and said to Chen Qingwu, “Miss, please choose one?”

Meng Fuyuan calmly withdrew his gaze.

After buying the bracelet, everyone continued forward.

Ahead was a live oyster-opening stall that had attracted many people, making it suddenly crowded.

As they approached, they realized the vendor and a customer opening oysters had gotten into an argument—the customer accused the oyster shells of being pre-opened, claiming the vendor was a fraud.

Not wanting to join this commotion, they squeezed through the crowd, planning to pass by the side passage of the stall.

As Chen Qingwu passed, she suddenly heard exclamations—apparently the customer and vendor had started fighting.

Seeing the situation getting out of control, tourists pushed and crowded toward the side passage. Meng Qiran, quick-eyed and quick-handed, immediately moved to shield Chen Qingwu.

Chen Qingwu’s back pressed against Meng Qiran’s shoulder. She heard an “oof” sound and looked down to see a burly man step on Meng Qiran’s foot.

The man, speaking with a northern accent, immediately moved his foot and apologized. “So sorry, so sorry! Are you hurt?”

The large man backed up and bumped the stall, making it shake.

Meng Fuyuan, standing diagonally behind, narrowed his eyes slightly and quickly raised his arm to catch a precariously swaying light sign.

At that moment, there was more pushing from behind. He instinctively reached out to brace himself and immediately furrowed his brow tightly.

Meng Fuyuan stood still, only shifting his palm lower. He blocked the crowd from behind, and after Chen Qingwu, Meng Qiran, and the burly man had all passed, he finally let go and continued forward.

Finally squeezing out of the congested crowd, Chen Qingwu looked back. “Should we help call the police?”

She didn’t realize that she naturally looked toward Meng Fuyuan, as if by default he was the most decisive among them all.

Meng Fuyuan looked toward the stall and was about to decide to call the police when he heard someone shout, “The police are here.”

“It’s fine now. Let’s go.” Meng Fuyuan said.

Chen Qingwu nodded.

Everyone walked to the end and headed to the parking lot.

Before getting in the car, Meng Qiran bent down to look at his foot.

He wore sports sandals, and the man had stepped hard—his foot was swollen.

“Are you okay?” Chen Qingwu asked.

Meng Qiran said with a smile it was nothing.

He was about to open the back seat door when Meng Fuyuan said, “Qiran, you drive.”

Meng Qiran said, “My foot hurts, you drive.”

Meng Fuyuan asked blandly, “Does it affect the brake?”

“What if it does.”

Chen Qingwu walked toward the driver’s seat with a laugh. “I’ll drive.”

At this, Meng Fuyuan and Meng Qiran said in unison, “I’ll drive.”

Chen Qingwu had already opened the driver’s seat door and quickly got in, leaving no room for the two to争.

On the return trip, Meng Qiran sat in the passenger seat and Meng Fuyuan in the back.

Meng Qiran, worried Chen Qingwu would be bored driving, made conversation from time to time.

Having grown up together, they naturally never lacked topics.

Meng Qiran said, “Old Zhao got remarried.”

Chen Qingwu: “Huh? I didn’t even know he got divorced.”

“The year before last. His new wife is his student, our year.”

“…No way? Which class?”

“Class 10 that he taught—seems like their class’s study committee member.”

“Then I know her, she once borrowed my bulletin board book. Old Zhao is so disgusting, he’s nineteen years older than us…”

Meng Qiran nodded.

Such conversations were utterly devoid of substance.

In the back, Meng Fuyuan rested his arm on the wide-open car window, looking outside. He clearly found their topic exceedingly boring, yet unconsciously captured Chen Qingwu’s voice—so clear and moist, like morning dew on grass blades.

Before they knew it, they had arrived at their lodging.

Chen Qingwu went upstairs, first took a shower, and when she came down, the four parents were chatting in the yard, but both Meng Fuyuan and Meng Qiran were nowhere to be seen.

Upon asking, she learned the two had left one after another, destination unknown.

It was still early. Chen Qingwu didn’t want to join the parents’ conversation, so she went to the media room and started a movie.

The movie wasn’t even halfway through when someone knocked on the open door.

Turning her head, she saw Meng Qiran standing in the doorway.

Meng Qiran walked in and sat directly on the sofa beside her, leaning back and extending his arm toward her. “Wuwu, this is for you.”

In his palm was a pale pink pearl.

Chen Qingwu was surprised. “You got it from a box?”

“No…” Meng Qiran pulled down the baseball cap he was wearing, covering his eyes, as if feeling this action was somewhat foolish. “…I bought all the blind boxes at the stall.”

“The total cost was definitely more than this pearl.”

“…Mm.”

“What about the rest of what you opened?”

“I gave them back to the vendor at cost.”

Chen Qingwu wanted to laugh. “When did you go back?”

“Right after we got home, I went back. Didn’t you say you’ve never gotten a hidden prize?”

“Well that’s true, spending power is also a kind of luck.”

Meng Qiran laughed. “…Then take it already.”

Chen Qingwu said, “Let’s agree first—this counts as my birthday present this year.”

“Fine.” Meng Qiran casually agreed and pressed the pearl into Chen Qingwu’s hand, then felt in his pocket. “Oh, there’s also this.”

In his extended palm was a pair of earrings from a luxury brand. He must have secretly bought them while shopping at the duty-free store in the morning.

He said, “Didn’t you lose the earrings you made yourself? These definitely aren’t as good as your own, but they’ll do for now.”

Chen Qingwu paused.

But those had already been found.

Found by someone else.

Seeing she seemed unwilling to accept them, Meng Qiran simply pressed the earrings into her palm, stood up and said, “I’m going to shower first.”

Chen Qingwu came to her senses. “…I brought pain relief spray, I left it on the dining room table. Remember to use it after your shower.”

“Okay.”

Chen Qingwu unconsciously toyed with the earrings and continued playing the movie.

Less than five minutes later, someone knocked on the door again.

This time it was Meng Fuyuan.

He wore all white—earlier in the noisy, frivolous night market, she had glanced at him once and thought he looked serene and out of place.

Meng Fuyuan held a wooden box in his hand. After entering, he grasped the door panel, seemingly preparing to close it.

Chen Qingwu reminded him, “Qiran is upstairs.”

Meaning, don’t close the door, or it would be hard to explain if someone walked in.

Who knew, Meng Fuyuan raised his eyebrows slightly, looked at her steadily, and closed the door anyway.

In the enclosed space, danger immediately arose. Chen Qingwu’s breathing tightened.

Meng Fuyuan walked over and sat beside her, passing her the wooden box. “A gift.”

Black lacquer surface with what seemed to be mother-of-pearl decoration—in the dim light, it was hard to see clearly.

Chen Qingwu took it. “What is it?”

“Oh.” Meng Fuyuan propped his arm on the sofa armrest, looked up at the projection screen. “Ten moonstone bracelets.”

“…” Chen Qingwu couldn’t help laughing. “You’re so childish.”

“Exactly.” An extremely frank tone.

He had admitted it himself—what more could she say? She just said with a laugh, “How can I wear so many?”

“Give them to friends, say they’re local specialties.”

“You’ve really thought this through for me.”

After the joking, they suddenly fell silent.

Meng Fuyuan, in the flickering light and shadow, turned his head to glance at her and said in a low voice, “About what happened during the day, I’m sorry. It was somewhat abrupt, probably scared you.”

“…No.”

“I thought you were drowning. You know, Qiran once almost…”

Chen Qingwu turned her head to look. The lenses reflected the screen’s light and shadow, preventing her from seeing his eyes clearly.

“…It’s okay. I know.”

Meng Fuyuan said nothing more.

She intuitively felt that in this long silence, the person beside her seemed to revert to that previously melancholic Meng Fuyuan, whom no one could truly enter.

After a while, Meng Fuyuan raised his finger to adjust his glasses, stood up. “I’m going to shower. Rest early, Qingwu.”

“Wait.”

Meng Fuyuan stopped.

Chen Qingwu stood up and went directly to pull his hand. “…What happened to your palm?”

On the center of his palm was a congealed bloodstain—the wound looked as if something had pierced it, somewhat deep.

Chen Qingwu realized. “…You got this when you were pushed at the stall?”

She remembered that because of the pushing force from behind, she had unconsciously looked back and saw Meng Fuyuan bracing the light sign, then supporting himself on the grid full of metal hooks.

No wonder he refused to drive when they returned.

“It’s nothing,” Meng Fuyuan said.

“I brought iodine. Come with me to disinfect it.”

As she spoke, she bent down and picked up the remote from the sofa, turning off the projector.

In that instant, she realized—oh no—the media room door and windows were tightly closed, curtains drawn, and no lights on. With the projector off, only complete darkness remained.

For a moment, the room was utterly silent, breathing audible.

At this moment, the four parents were in the yard, Meng Qiran upstairs—anyone could come by at any time.

Chen Qingwu’s heart pounded, not only from alertness to danger, but also because Meng Fuyuan’s breathing seemed obviously to miss a beat.

In the darkness, she felt Meng Fuyuan raise his hand.

The next second, his fingers reached her fingers and gently squeezed.

She felt as if electrocuted and wanted to curl her fingers, but he gripped them tighter.

“Come here. Be careful not to trip.” Meng Fuyuan’s voice was so calm, as if he had found a perfectly legitimate reason for this action.

He led her toward the door like this.

At the door, his footsteps stopped.

Through the wooden door, laughter and conversation from the yard behind could faintly be heard.

Chen Qingwu’s heartbeat alternated between light and heavy, that sense of loss of control as if this heart no longer belonged to her.

After a long while, the hand holding her fingers finally let go.

Meng Fuyuan raised his hand and pressed the switch by the door, smoothly pressing down the door handle as well, saying hoarsely, “…Let’s go.”

“…Mm.” Chen Qingwu clenched her fingers, only then realizing her palms were sweaty.

They deliberately ignored the fact that Meng Fuyuan could have easily gone to turn on the light himself first.

The alarm still hadn’t been lifted.

Going upstairs, with every step Chen Qingwu climbed, she felt as if she were walking through a minefield.

Was Meng Qiran done with his shower? What if he came out and ran into them? Should she say she was taking Meng Fuyuan to her room to get iodine?

Only now did she realize her differential treatment—she hadn’t personally applied medicine for Qiran.

All the way with trepidation, until reaching the second floor.

Chen Qingwu and Meng Qiran lived on the same floor, with Meng Qiran’s room further down the hallway.

Chen Qingwu stared at Meng Qiran’s room door ahead, raised her hand, opened her own room, then grabbed Meng Fuyuan’s sleeve and quickly pulled him inside.

Just as the door closed, she suddenly heard the sound of a door handle being pressed in the hallway.

Chen Qingwu was so frightened her heart nearly stopped.

At this moment, she heard an almost inaudible laugh.

She instinctively looked up.

The lights hadn’t been turned on yet, but the curtains were open. The yard lights illuminated the room dimly, so she could roughly distinguish the contours of Meng Fuyuan’s features.

She couldn’t see the details but knew there was laughter in his eyes.

His gaze must have heat—otherwise how could her whole body seem to be burning up?

Her heart hung high, her breathing held tight.

Meng Qiran’s room door opened and closed, footsteps gradually approaching.

When they were only a door away, Chen Qingwu’s heart was about to jump out of her throat.

Fortunately, those footsteps didn’t stop and moved away toward the staircase.

Only then did Chen Qingwu feel she could breathe again.

A low laugh came from above her head, as if laughing at her—not much courage, but quite playful.

Continuing like this, she’d really develop heart disease. Chen Qingwu immediately raised her hand, pressed the switch by the door, and stiffly turned around.

Meng Fuyuan opened his eyes.

Chen Qingwu’s room was a suite, clearly identical to his upstairs, yet he felt unusually uncomfortable.

Afraid of being presumptuous, he quickly scanned the room once and withdrew his gaze.

Chen Qingwu placed the wooden box on the bedside table, then walked to the luggage rack, opened her aluminum suitcase, and took out a medicine bag.

She placed the bag on the table, took out iodine swabs and band-aids, and walked up to Meng Fuyuan.

She broke the iodine swab, reached out, pulled up Meng Fuyuan’s palm, pinched the cotton swab, and dabbed at the wound on his palm. “Does it hurt?”

Meng Fuyuan shook his head, his eyes behind the lenses dark and deep.

Lowering his gaze, he looked at her careful fingers, then raised his eyes slightly to look at her face. She was looking down, her lowered lashes casting a pale gray shadow on her porcelain-white skin below her eyelids, inexplicably showing a fragile quality that inspired pity.

His Adam’s apple rolled slowly, an itching sensation like a feather brushing through his throat.

“Haven’t you showered yet?” Chen Qingwu suddenly asked.

Meng Fuyuan slowly responded with an “mm.”

Chen Qingwu threw away the used iodine swab, turned, and rummaged through the medicine bag again, taking out a waterproof band-aid.

She tore it halfway open, spread his palm flat, and aligned the pad with the wound.

As her finger lightly pressed the transparent adhesive surface, Meng Fuyuan almost failed to stop himself from curling his fingers.

After applying it, Chen Qingwu threw the torn packaging into the trash. “Although it’s waterproof, try not to soak it.”

“…Okay.” Meng Fuyuan took a step back.

He couldn’t stay any longer—he realized, afraid of overstepping or pushing his luck.

Chen Qingwu somewhat uncomfortably tucked her hair behind her ear.

Meng Fuyuan said, “I’m going back to my room. Rest early.”

“Mm…”

Meng Fuyuan turned and walked toward the bedroom door.

The moment the door closed, Chen Qingwu stepped back and leaned against the table edge, exhaling.

After a while, she felt her heartbeat return to normal.

She walked to the bed and sat down, seeing the wooden box on the bedside table.

Reaching out to take it, she opened it.

Inside weren’t ten moonstone bracelets at all.

It was a box of white flowers, some unknown variety, with petals having a mutton-fat jade quality.

The moment she opened it, the entire room filled with a subtle, floating fragrance.

After Meng Fuyuan showered, he went downstairs to the kitchen for water. About to return to his room, Qilin walked through the dining room toward him.

“You’re back?” Qilin said with a smile. “Where did you just go?”

“Out for a walk.”

Qilin nodded, looked at him, somewhat hesitant. “Do you have time now, Fuyuan? I’d like… to have a word with you alone.”

Meng Fuyuan nodded.

The two walked to the front yard and sat at the outdoor table and chairs under the lights.

Qilin looked at Meng Fuyuan, wanting to speak but hesitating.

Meng Fuyuan said, “It’s fine, just say it directly.”

Qilin smiled, her expression seeming measured. “You’ve been quite close to Qingwu lately, haven’t you?” A tone as if making casual conversation.

However, Meng Fuyuan was very perceptive and noticed that Qilin’s gaze on his face carried a somewhat poorly concealed scrutiny.

Meng Fuyuan’s actions and expression didn’t change in the slightest. “I’ve been in Dongcheng longer, taking care of her is appropriate.”

Qilin’s smile became somewhat unnatural. “Of course. With so many years of friendship between the Chen family and us, and Qingwu being like a younger sister.”

Qilin looked at him, paused again, then shifted the conversation. “Since you’re close to Qingwu now, do you know what she thinks about Qiran?”

Meng Fuyuan remained impassive. “I don’t get involved in their affairs. If Qiran wants to know, he can ask Qingwu himself.”

“That’s one way to put it, but if there are any misunderstandings between them, the two parties definitely can’t easily resolve them. I think both Qingwu and Qiran trust you, so could you perhaps…”

Meng Fuyuan’s gaze darkened slightly. “Does Qingwu have to be bound to Qiran?”

Qilin was slightly stunned.

“She’s also an adult with her own will.”

“That’s not what I meant…”

Meng Fuyuan realized he had been losing composure all day, as if all his past experience and current willpower had suddenly failed.

Clearly knowing his mother’s words carried an element of warning, why had he said those last two unnecessary sentences?

“Mom, I’m a bit tired and want to go rest first.” Meng Fuyuan sighed inwardly. “Tomorrow afternoon’s flight.”

Qilin quickly said, “Alright… go ahead!”

Meng Fuyuan stood up, nodded slightly, turned, and walked quickly inside.

Chen Qingwu woke up in the early morning hours.

Perhaps the box of flowers was too fragrant.

She got up and took the flowers to the window, opening it.

Wind whistled outside. She casually glanced out and suddenly froze.

The window faced the side yard—a cramped space planted with a few olive trees.

Under the tree shadows, on the stone steps, sat a person, elbows propped on knees, a point of crimson fire between fingers, bright then dim.

She suddenly realized how, last year on that snowy day, he had known she urgently needed a lighter.

She took her phone from the bedside table and turned off airplane mode.

Opening WeChat, she clicked on that black and white profile picture.

Chen Qingwu: Why aren’t you asleep yet?

She saw that still figure below move, then reach into a pocket for the phone.

The screen lit up.

He seemed to pause, then immediately turned and looked up.

Separated by a floor’s distance and the deep night, yet that gaze seemed to look directly into her eyes.

After gazing like this for a moment, Meng Fuyuan lowered his head.

The phone vibrated—his reply: Then why aren’t you asleep?

Chen Qingwu: I woke up from sleeping.

Meng Fuyuan: Then go back to sleep.

Chen Qingwu: You seem unhappy.

Meng Fuyuan: I’m okay.

After this message, the phone went silent.

Meng Fuyuan looked at the screen over and over, confirming there was no new reply.

He lowered his head and took a drag of his cigarette.

Suddenly he heard rustling sounds from the side.

He abruptly turned his head—it was actually Chen Qingwu.

His mood at this moment was indescribable. “Qingwu…”

“Shh.”

Chen Qingwu tiptoed over and stood before him, looking down at him. “What’s wrong?”

Just earlier when she applied the band-aid, his mood had seemed fine, but now he was depressed in a way that was hard to conceal.

She seemed to be seeing him like this for the first time.

Meng Fuyuan also looked at her, his tone very light. “What are you running out here for? How will you explain if someone catches you?”

Chen Qingwu squatted down, saying softly, “…I know. But what can I do? I can’t seem to just watch you stay here alone.”

Meng Fuyuan’s breathing deepened.

That feeling was like painting drunk and dying, knowing it was impossible yet still wanting to lean down and grasp the moon.

She just looked at him silently like this, as if waiting for him to tell her what was wrong.

Meng Fuyuan closed his eyes, as if making some kind of resolution. He raised his hand, extinguished the unfinished cigarette on the steps, removed his glasses and set them aside.

Suddenly reaching out, he placed his hand on the back of her neck and pressed forward.

Chen Qingwu’s body tilted slightly, her heart seeming to accelerate its fall.

Just foreheads touching, breathing no more than an inch apart.

He closed his eyes, his voice extremely bitter. “Tell me you don’t dislike me, Qingwu.”

She seemed unable to control herself. “…I, I don’t dislike you.”

“That’s good.” Meng Fuyuan still had his eyes closed. “There are many things I have no right to, and I accept that. Except for liking you.”

That voice was heavy, like striking her heart.

What things, what having no right to—she didn’t understand.

But it didn’t seem to prevent understanding his determination.

Perhaps because she was squatting, her hands and feet were going numb.

The skin her forehead touched was slightly cool, but her heart felt scorched with pain.

What should she do? She seemed to realize.

She wasn’t just “not disliking” anymore.