The next day was Meng Qiran’s birthday.

In the evening, Meng Qiran’s friends were going to throw him a party. Qilin and Liao Shuman felt they couldn’t handle that level of excitement, and feared that if they were present, the young people would feel constrained in their fun, making everyone uncomfortable. Therefore, they decided to celebrate his birthday at noon instead.

In the morning, Qilin and Liao Shuman went to visit Chen Qingwu’s place first.

Meng Fuyuan had arranged for a car to pick them up from the hotel.

As they entered, Liao Shuman was still praising Meng Fuyuan to Qilin, saying he was truly thoughtful in handling matters.

Qilin smiled and said, “Fuyuan has indeed always been worry-free.”

Chen Qingwu was filling the kettle with water when she heard this, and her movements paused slightly.

Worry-free.

Perhaps it was more that he had no choice but to be worry-free.

While waiting for the water to boil, Chen Qingwu led the two mothers on a brief tour of the studio.

The finished products area on the floor was piled with many bottles, jars, dishes, and bowls—a dazzling array at first glance.

Qilin asked, “Are all these going to be sent to customers?”

Chen Qingwu smiled and said, “No. These are all defective products.”

“Such beautiful things are still considered defective?” Qilin squatted down and asked with a smile, “May I pick out two pieces?”

“Of course, please choose as you like. I was planning to find time to photograph them and list them at discounted prices in my online shop anyway.”

“Are you handling all the work by yourself now?” Qilin asked while selecting items.

“Yes. I’ll try to get through this year first. If I really can’t manage everything, I’ll hire someone next year.”

Chen Qingwu thought to herself that she should thank Meng Fuyuan—if he hadn’t helped subsidize part of the shop rent, she probably would have had to ask her family for money to make ends meet this year.

She had two sources of income.

The main source was custom orders—personalized customization with relatively high unit prices per customer.

The other part consisted of works she created and fired herself, which were listed for sale in her online shop. These pieces were limited in quantity and listings weren’t updated very frequently, so they only accounted for a small portion.

But all income combined could currently sustain basic needs.

Qilin looked around casually and finally took a liking to an iron-glazed vase, saying with a smile, “Then I’ll take this vase.”

“It won’t be convenient for you to carry it back on the high-speed rail. Let me drive it back home for you next time I go.”

Qilin smiled and said, “Then I’ll trouble you.”

The more exquisite works were all displayed on shelves.

Liao Shuman examined each one carefully, praising Chen Qingwu for running the business quite impressively.

Finally, they went to the bedroom in the back.

Liao Shuman bent down to feel the quilt. “The weather’s been changing recently, isn’t it cold with such a thin quilt?”

“It’s okay.”

“‘It’s okay’—you’ll regret it when you catch a cold.” Liao Shuman paced around the bedroom, looking everywhere before asking again, “You’re using commercial electricity and water rates living here, right?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“It’s so spacious. When it gets cold, will the air conditioning be sufficient? You should go rent a proper apartment instead.”

“I don’t have the money…” Chen Qingwu stuck out her tongue.

“If you don’t have money, ask me for it. I can’t let you sleep on the streets.” As she spoke, she immediately took out her phone and transferred a sum of money to Chen Qingwu.

Chen Qingwu gave Liao Shuman a hug and said with a smile, “Thank you, Mom. But I can still manage. If I really can’t sustain it, I’ll come to you.”

Qilin smiled and said, “Qingwu is sometimes too headstrong.”

After the tour, Chen Qingwu locked the door and went with Qilin and Liao Shuman to Meng Qiran’s studio.

It seemed to arrive in the blink of an eye. Qilin said with a smile, “You two are so close? Is it just two or three kilometers?”

Chen Qingwu smiled faintly and said, “Mm-hmm.”

Meng Qiran came out to welcome everyone inside. After a tour, they sat down in the reception hall.

After chatting idly for a while, as it approached noon, familiar footsteps sounded at the entrance.

Chen Qingwu immediately looked up, and indeed it was Meng Fuyuan entering.

It had been overcast for days, the daylight dim and gray, but the moment he appeared, she inexplicably felt the weather had cleared by a couple of degrees.

Lunch had been ordered in advance from a restaurant, and the food was delivered.

After eating and clearing the table, they began eating cake.

There were two cakes, different in color and style. After making wishes and blowing out the candles, as they divided the cake, everyone took out prepared gifts—all in duplicate.

Qilin handed Chen Qingwu her gift with a smile, saying, “Auntie wishes you an early happy birthday.”

Chen Qingwu smiled her thanks.

After the brief ceremony, Meng Fuyuan prepared to leave.

“Brother, are you coming tonight or not?” Meng Qiran asked.

“We’ll see.” Meng Fuyuan picked up the windbreaker from the chair back, and as he put it on, his gaze lightly touched Chen Qingwu’s face.

After putting on the windbreaker and adjusting his sleeves, Meng Fuyuan said to Liao Shuman and Qilin, “There are matters at the company, so I’ll leave first. Aunties, if you go shopping this afternoon, just have the driver take you.”

Liao Shuman smiled and said, “You attend to your business, Fuyuan. No need to trouble yourself.”

Meng Fuyuan nodded and turned to walk out.

There was still a lot of cake left. Qilin and Liao Shuman helped put it in the refrigerator, telling Meng Qiran to share it with people coming to the party that evening.

At this moment, the phone in Chen Qingwu’s jacket pocket vibrated.

She took it out and saw it was a message from Meng Fuyuan.

Meng Fuyuan: Do you need a rescue tonight, Miss Bicycle?

Chen Qingwu smiled lightly and replied: You stay on standby first.

Meng Fuyuan: As you command.

In the afternoon, Chen Qingwu accompanied Liao Shuman and Qilin shopping, and after sending them back to the hotel, went to Meng Qiran’s place.

She had expected the open space in front to be as lively as last time, but unexpectedly it was completely empty. Looking at the house, the lights were also off.

Chen Qingwu was somewhat puzzled, wondering if she had come to the wrong place. She specifically pulled out the WeChat chat history with Meng Qiran to check, confirming it was indeed his studio.

As she walked forward, she called Meng Qiran.

A faint phone ringtone came from inside.

The call connected.

Chen Qingwu: “Qiran, are you home?”

“Yes.”

Chen Qingwu climbed the steps and saw that the studio door was ajar.

Pushing it open revealed complete darkness.

Someone inside counted down in a low voice: Three, two, one.

The instant the words fell, colorful glow sticks lit up one after another, and the darkness instantly transformed into a dazzling ocean of colors.

At the same time, a guitar sounded, and a low female voice came from the darkness: “Wishing Miss Chen an early happy birthday.”

Chen Qingwu covered her mouth.

Back in university, Chen Qingwu had accompanied Meng Qiran and his band to a music festival, where she heard a female singer’s voice that instantly struck her.

That singer was called Su Na, whose voice was casual yet languid, carrying an attitude of utter indifference.

Upon inquiry later, she learned that Su Na was famously independent, refusing to court favor or mix in circles.

Later, meeting her backstage, Chen Qingwu mustered the courage to ask for an autograph. Su Na, who was carrying her guitar and about to leave, stopped to patiently give her signature and even joked, saying how come her female fans were each prettier than the last.

After that, at various music festivals, they met several more times. Though Su Na didn’t mix in circles, she would occasionally exchange thoughts on music with peers. As an unofficial member of Volume Bar Neon, Chen Qingwu was fortunate to spend time with her a few times, confirming that her aloofness was proportional to her talent.

After graduating from university, Volume Bar Neon’s activities gradually decreased until they basically stopped. After distancing herself from that circle, Su Na became a permanent fixture in her playlist, a star she admired from afar.

And at this moment, Su Na said, wishing Miss Chen an early happy birthday.

Chen Qingwu maintained her face-covering posture throughout, listening to Su Na sing her signature song “Past Life Ferries Me.”

The venue was only so big, so there was no microphone. The unamplified voice had a kind of penetrating power that went straight to the heart.

As the last note fell, applause thundered like waves. Chen Qingwu clapped until her palms were swollen.

The lights came on, illuminating the entire room.

Su Na set down her guitar. Chen Qingwu walked over, saying “thank you” with some excitement.

“No need to thank me. I’m just repaying a favor to Meng Qiran.” Su Na was quite straightforward.

Only then did Chen Qingwu learn that Su Na had wanted to sample an old song, and after much effort, it was Meng Qiran who helped contact the singer and obtain authorization.

Chen Qingwu asked, “May I take up a bit more of your time to say a few words to you privately?”

Su Na nodded. “I actually need to use the restroom. You can show me where it is.”

Leaving the hall and passing through the corridor, they reached the restroom in the back.

Standing at the door, Chen Qingwu said, “I know you generally don’t sing at private gatherings. I hope you don’t feel offended.”

Su Na shrugged. “Though I’m somewhat annoyed, I hate owing people favors even more. Meng Qiran is someone I’m willing to deal with. He’s quite pure about making music, without any distracting thoughts. Most of his songs are well-written, except for…”

“Except for those ‘dedicated to Miss Chen’?”

Su Na raised an eyebrow. “Those aren’t my words.”

Chen Qingwu smiled and said, “That’s already common knowledge.”

After Su Na came out of the restroom, she prepared to leave. Before going, she wished Chen Qingwu a happy birthday again and said she had a live show coming up soon and welcomed her to attend.

After Su Na left, the venue became lively, no different from usual.

Chen Qingwu took a bottle of beverage and saw Meng Qiran at the work table. She walked over and said thank you.

Meng Qiran lowered his head, gazing at her. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you this happy.”

These words made Chen Qingwu feel sad.

At that moment, not knowing what the friends in the reception hall were talking about, they suddenly burst into roof-raising laughter.

Meng Qiran glanced over, worried Chen Qingwu would find it noisy, and said, “Want to go out for a stroll?”

In this situation, Chen Qingwu naturally nodded.

There was a Ducati parked on the open space in front. Meng Qiran took the helmet hanging on the handlebar and handed it to Chen Qingwu.

“Where are we going?”

“Just for a ride.”

Meng Qiran stepped forward and fitted the helmet onto her head.

Chen Qingwu adjusted the helmet with both hands and straddled the motorcycle.

Meng Qiran also put on his helmet, bent down, and twisted the throttle.

The engine roared, the bike swung its tail in a turn ahead, and sped onto the road.

Chen Qingwu’s arms passed around Meng Qiran’s sides, bracing on the fuel tank cover.

The night wind rushed past her ears, becoming somewhat muffled whistling through the helmet.

There was a reason Qiran liked racing—when people chase the wind, they themselves seem to become the wind.

The bike headed toward the outskirts, entering the mountains, spiraling upward circle by circle.

The elevation wasn’t high—in just about twenty minutes, they reached the summit.

Finding an open area, Meng Qiran stopped the bike.

Chen Qingwu removed her helmet, smoothed her long hair that had been blown into disarray by the wind, and looked out.

Beyond the dark dense forest nearby, distant lights were scattered like stars.

The air was slightly cold, bringing a brisk freshness surging into her lungs.

Chen Qingwu couldn’t help but take several long, deep breaths.

She got off the motorcycle, hung the helmet on the handlebar, and said with a smile, “The night view is beautiful.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Meng Qiran put his hand into the pocket of his black windbreaker jacket, and there was a rustling sound.

A moment later, like performing magic, he took out a box of cold sparklers and asked, “Want to play?”

“…Your guys’ jacket pockets are way too big.”

Meng Qiran laughed and asked her, “Do you have a lighter?”

“Yes.”

They walked forward a couple of steps and squatted down on the ground.

Meng Qiran took out a sparkler stick and handed it to Chen Qingwu, took the lighter from her hand, flicked out a flame, and brought it close to light it.

On New Year’s Eve during their first year of high school, Chen Qingwu had a fever and was resting in her bedroom. After midnight, she received a message from Qiran, telling her to get up and go to the window.

At that time, wrapped in a blanket, she stood by the window and leaned out to look. Meng Qiran was standing downstairs waving at her.

He held a sparkler stick in his hand, making up for her missing the fireworks show.

A cluster of sizzling sparks in the darkness, so faint yet so beautiful.

The sudden silence was because they had both thought of this same past event.

“Wuwu…”

Chen Qingwu looked up.

The sparks reflected in Meng Qiran’s eyes, like those brilliant lights fallen into the night in the distance.

His gaze had been fixed on her face all along, and his breathing suddenly slowed.

Chen Qingwu had already sensed it. Before he could lean in, she suddenly lowered her head. “There’s something I want to tell you, Qiran.”

“…What?”

“I might… have someone I like.” Chen Qingwu said softly.

Meng Qiran froze.

As her words fell, the sparkler stick also burned to its end.

For a moment, all was dark.

“…What do you mean?” Meng Qiran’s voice was somewhat hoarse.

Chen Qingwu didn’t repeat it. She knew Meng Qiran understood, so she only said softly, “I’m sorry.”

After a long silence, Meng Qiran spoke again hoarsely, “Who is it?”

Chen Qingwu bit her lip lightly. “…If I end up together with him, I’ll tell you.”

“Is there really such a person, Wuwu? Or are you making this up to put me off?”

“…I’m not lying to you. I’m sorry. Maybe I should have told you earlier, but I’ve only recently become somewhat certain of my feelings for him.”

Today’s events forced Chen Qingwu to be honest. She didn’t want Meng Qiran’s efforts to continue to be in vain. She knew that no matter what, she wouldn’t turn back.

Those waters had already unknowingly changed their course.

There were still many sparkler sticks left, but neither of them had the heart to light another.

Meng Qiran straightened up, seeming to find it somewhat absurd, to the point of being at a loss for words, at a loss for what to do.

He took a deep breath. “…Why?”

No wonder he always felt that anything he did recently was like trying to use a key to open a door that had no keyhole.

Chen Qingwu didn’t know which matter his “why” referred to, so she could only remain silently speechless.

Meng Qiran looked down at her, his voice with a slight tremor upon close listening. “…Before you’re with someone else, I won’t give up.”

“Qiran, there’s no need…” Chen Qingwu sighed. She knew she couldn’t dissuade him. After all, he was someone she’d grown up with, a boy she had liked for nine years. She understood him as well as she understood the lines on her palm. “…Don’t spend any more effort on me. I really don’t want to hurt you.”

Meng Qiran said nothing more, just turned to face the distant lights.

He lowered his head, his bangs falling forward, covering his eyes, making all his expressions impossible to glimpse.

But that figure was forlorn, his emotions impossible to hide.

She had never seen him looking so sad before.

Chen Qingwu made no sound, silently squatting in place.

Wind blew through the trees, making a hollow echo.

After a long while like this, Meng Qiran turned around and said in a low voice, “Let’s go. I’ll take you back.”

Chen Qingwu said “mm-hmm” and stood up.

Meng Qiran took the helmet and handed it to her, never looking at her from beginning to end.

On the return trip, the wind felt even stronger, brushing past Meng Qiran’s sleeves with a fluttering sound that continued all the way.

The bike returned to the party venue. Meng Qiran went inside to get Chen Qingwu’s gift, then took her back.

The motorcycle entered the creative arts park. As it approached the studio door, Meng Qiran eased off the throttle slightly—near the parking area by the entrance, a familiar SUV was parked, with someone leaning against the vehicle smoking.

It was Meng Fuyuan.

Probably hearing the commotion, Meng Fuyuan raised his head and glanced over.

The bike came to a stop in front of Meng Fuyuan. Meng Qiran pulled off his helmet in one motion, placed it on the fuel tank cover, braced both arms on the handlebars, and asked with a smile, “Brother, what are you doing here?”

Meng Fuyuan raised his wrist to check his watch, his expression utterly impassive. “I made an appointment with Qingwu to come here at nine to pick up something.”

“What thing?”

“Ceramics to give to a friend.”

Meng Qiran’s gaze lingered on Meng Fuyuan’s face for quite a while, but he said nothing more.

Chen Qingwu walked toward the entrance, followed by Meng Qiran helping her carry the gift, and Meng Fuyuan, who seemed genuinely here to pick up ceramics.

Once inside, Chen Qingwu told them to sit anywhere while she went to boil water.

The two brothers sat facing each other.

Meng Fuyuan looked Meng Qiran over. “You just went out riding?”

“Mm-hmm. Took Wuwu for a ride.”

Meng Fuyuan nodded blandly, as if completely uninterested in their activities.

The water boiled. Chen Qingwu came over with two cups in one hand and the kettle in the other.

The cups were identical white mugs. She filled them halfway and placed them in front of each of them.

Meng Qiran picked up his cup but saw his brother’s gaze fall on a cup on the coffee table.

It was probably one Chen Qingwu had used in the morning—the tea bag was still inside.

The cup was black, matte-textured, a conventional shape with somewhat uneven walls, otherwise nothing special about it.

Chen Qingwu also noticed it and smiled somewhat embarrassedly.

She very naturally picked it up, removed the tea bag and threw it in the trash, then took the cup to the sink to wash.

Meng Qiran looked over.

The water splashed. Chen Qingwu lowered her eyes, her expression exceptionally calm.

After Chen Qingwu finished washing the cup, Meng Fuyuan spoke up. “Qingwu, where’s the wrapped item?”

Chen Qingwu walked toward the work table and a moment later brought over a small suitcase from below.

Meng Fuyuan took it. It was very light—the case was clearly empty. He only said, “Thank you. Then I’ll leave first.”

Chen Qingwu nodded.

Meng Qiran watched his brother walk out the door. A moment later, the car passed by the entrance, its sounds fading into the distance.

At this moment, Meng Qiran’s phone rang.

It was a call from a friend still at the party venue, asking where he’d gone.

Meng Qiran: “You guys have fun. I have something to do. I’ll come over in a bit.”

The friend laughed and said, “Someone’s planning to confess to you, but here you are, the birthday boy standing up everyone.”

Meng Qiran’s tone carried some impatience. “Who wants to confess? Don’t they know I have someone I like?”

“It’s me…”

“Fuck off.”

The other side laughed and cursed, then hung up.

Meng Qiran glanced across. Chen Qingwu sat on the sofa, her expression somewhat distant.

Clearly knowing that saying anything more would be futile, that sitting here would only result in silence, he still somehow didn’t want to leave.

In the past, he thought her place was too quiet, but now he somewhat feared returning to his own noisy world, because there everything existed except Chen Qingwu.

Chen Qingwu didn’t rush him either, just brought over her laptop and said, “I might need to work for a bit.”

After typing on the keyboard for a while, Chen Qingwu couldn’t help but turn and sneeze.

“Did you catch a chill?” Meng Qiran asked anxiously.

“It’s nothing.” Chen Qingwu turned and took the shawl hanging on the sofa back and draped it over herself.

Meng Qiran stood up, reached out, and gently pushed down the back cover of her laptop. “Go take a hot shower and rest early. Don’t catch a cold.”

Chen Qingwu’s movements paused slightly. “Alright then. You should head back. After I shower, I’ll go stay in the bedroom.”

Meng Qiran nodded.

After saying goodbye, Meng Qiran left the studio and closed the door for Chen Qingwu.

Getting on the motorcycle, as he passed the entrance, he couldn’t help but turn to look one more time.

The hidden pain from that moment on the mountain still seemed to be spreading in his chest.

Chen Qingwu was indeed worried about catching a chill. After locking the main door, she went to take a hot shower and changed into warm loungewear.

Carrying her computer and all the gifts to the bedroom, she sat down on the bed. Just as she was about to message Meng Fuyuan, a phone call came through.

Meng Fuyuan: “Is it convenient for me to come back?”

“Mm-hmm… Qiran just left.”

“I saw.”

Chen Qingwu was slightly startled.

While waiting for Meng Fuyuan to return, Chen Qingwu unwrapped the gifts.

Qilin had given her a necklace. Liao Shuman, very practically, had given her gold bars.

What Meng Qiran gave her was a cashmere scarf she had coincidentally been planning to buy recently.

She took a photo of the scarf and sent it to Zhao Yingfei, asking: Did Meng Qiran ask you about this?

Zhao Yingfei: Yeah.

Chen Qingwu: …Enjoying the drama, aren’t you, Miss Zhao?

Zhao Yingfei: Hehe.

Finally, she unwrapped Meng Fuyuan’s gift.

Inside the box he gave, there was only a handwritten note:

Miss Chen Qingwu’s birthday gift, please come to me in person to collect it on October 27th.

—Meng Fuyuan

Chen Qingwu couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

Only Meng Fuyuan could understand her difficulty—not wanting to be tied together with Meng Qiran anymore, yet unable to refuse firmly due to their relationship.

Before long, knocking sounded outside.

Chen Qingwu quickly ran over to open the door.

Meng Fuyuan was carrying that empty suitcase. After entering, he placed it on the coffee table.

“Were you already preparing to sleep?” Meng Fuyuan looked her over.

“I just showered. My head hurts a bit…” As Chen Qingwu spoke, her nose tickled. She immediately turned away, covering her mouth as she sneezed.

Meng Fuyuan glanced at her. “You caught a chill from the wind.”

“…Probably.”

“Next time you can even go up the mountain to see snow while you have a cold.”

“…Hey.” Chen Qingwu laughed.

“Go lie down on the bed.”

The studio was located in the suburbs. The space was very open with several glass walls, making insulation quite poor. Having just cooled down a few days ago, Meng Fuyuan felt this interior was much colder than elsewhere.

Chen Qingwu hesitated.

Meng Fuyuan stepped forward and directly reached out the back of his hand to feel her forehead.

Chen Qingwu blinked and lowered her gaze.

The back of his hand was slightly warm, his sleeve carrying a crisp, clean fragrance.

Meng Fuyuan said, “It’s okay, no fever. Go rest. I’m about to leave.”

Chen Qingwu stood still.

“Hurry.” Meng Fuyuan’s tone brooked no refusal. “I’ll lock the door for you.”

That manner suggested he wouldn’t feel at ease unless he saw her enter the bedroom.

Chen Qingwu could only say, “Let me pour some hot water first.”

Meng Fuyuan opened the lid of the electric kettle and felt the steam rising from it with his palm. It was no longer very hot, so he said, “When it boils, I’ll bring it to you.”

Chen Qingwu then took her phone and headed toward the bedroom.

She lay down on the bed. A moment later, she heard Meng Fuyuan’s voice from outside the wall at the corner: “May I come in?”

“Mm-hmm, come in.”

Meng Fuyuan held the black ceramic cup that Chen Qingwu had just washed, which he had made himself. He turned the corner and stepped into the space behind the wall.

Though called a bedroom, it was only a semi-open space.

A room was partitioned off in the corner, presumably the bathroom and toilet.

The headboard faced north against the wall. A dark short-pile rug was laid beside the bed. On the right was a floor-to-ceiling window with curtains fully drawn. On the left was an open wardrobe rack with seasonal clothes hanging.

The bedding was oatmeal coffee color, a warm tone, but looked exceptionally thin.

Meng Fuyuan placed the water cup on the bedside table, couldn’t help but bend down and reach out to feel it. “Too thin.”

Chen Qingwu burst out laughing.

Meng Fuyuan looked at her. “What’s so funny?”

She suppressed her laughter and shook her head, her shoulders trembling.

Meng Fuyuan asked again.

She had to say, “…My mom said something similar this morning.”

“Oh.”

Chen Qingwu tilted her head to look at him and said with a smile, “Are you angry?”

“I don’t argue with sick children.”

Meng Fuyuan picked up the cup and handed it to her.

Fortunately, he had made it thick enough that even filled with boiling water, it wasn’t hot to hold.

“Have you been using this cup recently?” Meng Fuyuan asked.

“Is that not allowed?”

“It’s very much allowed.” Meng Fuyuan chuckled softly.

Chen Qingwu held the water cup, gently blowing on the water’s surface, and asked him, “Why did you suddenly come over?”

“I didn’t receive your WeChat message, so I went to check at Qiran’s place. You both weren’t there, so I thought you might have come here.”

Seeing him still standing, Chen Qingwu patted the space beside her, telling him it was fine to sit on the edge of the bed.

Meng Fuyuan hesitated for a moment, then sat down, half an arm’s length away from Chen Qingwu.

Chen Qingwu lowered her eyes. The warm steam brushed her face. After hesitating a moment, she said, “I have a question.”

“Hmm?”

“…Do you feel guilty?”

“What do you think?” Meng Fuyuan turned his head to look at her, his seemingly calm voice ultimately not without emotion. “Qiran is my younger brother.”

Chen Qingwu lowered her head, her emotions complex for a moment.

Meng Fuyuan watched her for a long time. “Look up at me, Qingwu.”

Chen Qingwu raised her head as if by reflex.

Meng Fuyuan turned his body slightly, his gaze extraordinarily serious as he watched her. “Last time you were curious about why I like you. If I must say, you can understand it as love at first sight for the twenty-year-old you.”

This was probably the strangest confession Chen Qingwu had ever heard.

They had known each other for so many years, yet he said it was love at first sight.

Meng Fuyuan continued, “What I want to tell you is when I truly confirmed my feelings.”

Chen Qingwu’s breathing lightened. She instinctively wanted to blink, because Meng Fuyuan’s gaze was extremely deep, containing hidden heat that even his glasses couldn’t block.

“On Christmas of your junior year’s first semester, you went out with Qiran to see a movie and came back late at night. You went directly to his room with Qiran and didn’t come out all night…”

“You thought…”

“Yes, I thought…”

“That day I did sleep in his room, but he had just gotten a new game cartridge and played games all night.”

The reason Chen Qingwu remembered this so clearly was because she had originally thought she and Meng Qiran would do something. She had deliberately waited a long time, trying to engage him in conversation again and again. But perhaps the person before her was ultimately not as interesting as the game plot, so all those attempts were ineffective. In the end, she gave up and simply fell asleep from exhaustion.

Meng Fuyuan looked into her eyes, his voice deepening by a couple of degrees. “…For many years after, I felt the same way I did that night.”

Unable to suppress the wild imaginings, jealousy and self-loathing taking turns dominating.

“Qingwu, tell me, do I or don’t I feel guilty?”

A soft “thud”—it was Chen Qingwu placing the water cup on the table. The next instant, she leaned forward, bringing a small rush of air and wind, and embraced him in one motion.

Meng Fuyuan reflexively closed his eyes.

His mind went blank for a split second. A moment later, he confirmed that the body warmth and breath leaning against him belonged unmistakably to Chen Qingwu.

His palms opened, like a mechanical robot “Frankenstein” that had lost its commands. He paused like this for a long time before seeming to fully react. His palms carefully touched her shoulders, paused for an instant, then forcefully pulled her into his embrace.

He held her extremely tight, as if wanting to merge her into his bones.

Though it was clearly just a comforting embrace, it gave him a sense of fulfilling a long-cherished wish, of having no regrets even in death.

He lowered his head, his chin resting on her shoulder, his breathing swirling behind her ear, hotter than boiling steam.

His voice was low, like a heavy sigh after eternal, prolonged restraint: “…Qingwu.”