·

“What?!”

Inside a quiet, old-fashioned mala-tang shop, Fang Zhixiao spat out the straw from her bubble tea and raised her eyes to look at Li Kuiyi in disbelief: “You’re telling me that the incredibly handsome guy was practically about to cry right in front of you, and all you told him was that the two of you needed to calm down?”

Her voice was a little loud, but there was no one else in the shop, so Li Kuiyi didn’t remind her to keep it down. She simply gave a nod, then shook her head: “No, that’s not quite it — I also told him that everyone is an independent individual, and there’s no such thing as one person ‘not wanting’ another.”

Fang Zhixiao immediately drew in a sharp breath, eyes wide as saucers: “Li Kuiyi, you don’t actually think you were being reasonable, do you? Truly — if you don’t know how to be in a relationship, don’t start one. Wouldn’t it be better to let someone else have that handsome guy? It’s not as if he’s being put to good use with you anyway — it’s practically a waste!”

Li Kuiyi let out an “ah” and also widened her eyes slightly: “Isn’t that reasonable? That really is how it works. What do you mean ‘I don’t want him’ — it’s not as if he’s a possession of mine.”

Hearing this, Fang Zhixiao went metaphorically dark before the eyes. She slumped straight back in her chair and said feebly: “I beg of you, please understand — you are in a relationship, not debating human rights! A relationship is a one-on-one bond, right? And you certainly wouldn’t want to share your boyfriend with someone else, right? So from a certain standpoint, he is your possession.”

“Well…” Li Kuiyi drew out the word, a little hesitant. “I respectfully disagree.”

Just then, the number for Fang Zhixiao’s food order was called. She sighed, stood up and went to the pickup window to collect her mala-tang, and as she stirred sesame paste into it, said with the air of someone who has given up: “Believe whatever you want — it’s your love life that’s going to fall apart, not mine. Why should I be the one panicking?”

Hearing this, Li Kuiyi blinked in alarm: “It’s going to fall apart just like that? Is it really that serious?”

She did feel that He Youyuan was a bit dramatic, but she could still tolerate it, she supposed — she hadn’t been thinking about ending things with him at all.

“Why don’t you count how many days you’ve been leaving him out in the cold?”

Li Kuiyi couldn’t help but argue back: “I haven’t been leaving him in the cold. I only told him that the two of us needed to calm down for a while. He still walks me home every evening — we just don’t really talk much, that’s all.”

“That’s not calming down, that’s a cold war.” Fang Zhixiao said serenely.

“But… but…” Li Kuiyi opened her mouth, wanting to insist that she and He Youyuan weren’t in a cold war, but inexplicably found herself without the confidence to say so. She was someone who always tried to solve a problem once she found one, but there were always problems she couldn’t solve — and sometimes she couldn’t even figure out why the problem had come up in the first place, just like when He Youyuan got upset with her, and she never once understood from beginning to end where his feelings had come from.

So she had opted for a hands-off approach — she figured He Youyuan must have gotten himself stuck in a mental loop, and that she needed to give him time to think his way out of it on his own.

“Stop your ‘buts’.” Fang Zhixiao gave her no chance to argue. “I’ll tell you something — the conflict you two have managed to create is truly low-level, because it was entirely avoidable. When he asked you whether you’d break things off if he dropped five places in the rankings, all you had to do was hug him, act a little sweet and coquettish, and say of course not — and it would’ve been solved right there. I guarantee he wouldn’t have sulked at all.”

Hug him? Act sweet and coquettish? Say of course not?

Li Kuiyi’s body gave an involuntary shudder. To be honest, each of those three things was a personal line she absolutely could not cross.

To say nothing of doing these things to a boy — she couldn’t even do them with a girl. Even when making friends with Fang Zhixiao, it had taken her a very long time to slowly get used to the physical closeness between them.

“But that’s what we agreed to.” She muttered quietly. “He promised back then, so why is he going back on it now?”

“Oh! You top-scoring scholars truly don’t understand the suffering of us ordinary people! Put yourself in his shoes — imagine your grades are decent enough but not particularly stable, and your boyfriend tells you that if you drop more than five places you’ll break up. Then wouldn’t you know it, you drop three places this time, sitting right on the edge of danger. You’re in a panic. You want to go find some comfort from your boyfriend, but your boyfriend doesn’t give you even the tiniest bit of face and flatly says you’d break up just like that. How would you feel? And from what you’ve told me, all he did was walk a tiny bit close to you, and you told him not to press against you — if I were him, I’d sulk at you too.”

Li Kuiyi: “…”

She had originally thought she was entirely in the right. Yet after listening to Fang Zhixiao’s case against her, she somehow felt she had been a little out of line?

Had she been brainwashed?

Li Kuiyi forcibly pulled her straying thoughts back on track and asked: “Don’t you think it’s his fault? All I did was follow the rules.”

Fang Zhixiao threw her hands up entirely and fished a fish ball out of the mala-tang to pop into her mouth: “Do whatever you want, I’m done managing you. Choosing to follow rules rather than feelings with someone you like — that’s really something.”

Just then, a “ding-dong” rang out from inside the shop as another order number was called. Li Kuiyi turned over Fang Zhixiao’s final words in her mind and stood up in a daze to go collect her food. Just as she picked up her mala-tang, the shop owner suddenly pushed aside the curtain and stuck her head out: “I actually think your friend makes a lot of sense. Young lady, take it from your auntie — if your boyfriend is good-looking, you should pamper him. You’ll understand when you reach my age: men don’t really have much to offer, but at least good-looking ones are pleasant to look at, right?”

Li Kuiyi: “…”

You were listening to all of this from the kitchen?

“Isn’t that right, auntie?” Fang Zhixiao immediately joined in, as though she had finally found a kindred spirit. “I figured that out when I was thirteen — doesn’t that make me especially perceptive?”

“Young girls these days are much more enlightened than we were.” The auntie saw no reason to stay in the kitchen and came out, sitting down at the table next to them, seemingly moved to reflect, and launched into stories from her own youth, trading remarks with Fang Zhixiao in perfect harmony. Li Kuiyi listened in silence, not daring to make a sound.

Perhaps because they hit it off so well, when they finished their mala-tang, the auntie sent them off with a few skewers of northeastern-style barbecue.

After saying goodbye to the auntie, the two of them walked toward the book-rental shop at the end of the street, holding their skewers. Halfway there, Fang Zhixiao received a call — it was Zhou Ce. After hanging up, she grinned slyly: “Heh heh, Zhou Ce asked if I wanted to go see a film. I’m not keeping you company at the bookshop anymore.”

Li Kuiyi froze for a moment, and said in displeasure: “I made plans with you first!”

“Oh come on, take pity on the two of us. We’re not even in the same class, we go home in different directions, we have barely any time together each day, and all we have is the weekend to hang out.”

Li Kuiyi said nothing, hanging her face in a sulk.

“Go make up with your guy.” Fang Zhixiao gave her shoulder a light nudge. “Take a little of that possessiveness you have toward me and give some of it to that handsome boy — then he won’t sulk at you anymore. Go on, go on.”

“You’re just deliberately sending me off to He Youyuan so you can go on your date with Zhou Ce.”

“Heh heh, pretty much.” Fang Zhixiao cheerfully admitted it, then flagged down a taxi. She bade Li Kuiyi a lively farewell, and after getting in, sent two flying kisses through the car window: “Don’t be mad, mwah mwah.”

She was absolutely furious!

Li Kuiyi watched the taxi drive away and stomped her feet on the spot in exasperation.

Yet there was nothing she could do about it.

After stewing in it alone for a while, she finally thought of a way to vent her feelings. She took out her phone, opened QQ, and changed Fang Zhixiao’s nickname:

Fang Zhixiao (Boys Over Friends Edition)

She thought about it, decided that wasn’t harsh enough, and changed it to: Fang Zhixiao (Permanently Unfriended Edition).

Exhale —

That felt a bit better, didn’t it?

Li Kuiyi put her phone away and went to the book-rental shop on her own, borrowed a generous stack of novels and comics, and prepared to do some thorough research into love. The love stories in novels were always extravagantly dramatic — they were sure to get her hormones going, and only under the influence of hormones would she ever be able to bring herself to soothe He Youyuan. Otherwise she would still be convinced that this conflict was his fault.

The plan proved effective. A week later, Li Kuiyi had successfully powered through an entire romance comic, smiling as she read, her heart swaying in a dreamy, languid warmth. She promptly decided to forgive He Youyuan.

Let him sulk if he wants. Why bother quarreling with him?

She wanted to tell He Youyuan that she did, in fact, like him, and that she hadn’t felt he was unimportant. But she couldn’t bring herself to say something like that face-to-face, so she thought about getting him a small gift instead, to let him know where her heart stood.

But what should she get? She was at a loss again.

On Saturday, after school in the afternoon, she walked He Youyuan to the art studio. She had been a little uncertain at first, not knowing if he would want her to walk him there — but he walked straight over to her, turned his face away, and said in a muffled, sulky voice: “You still walk me even if we’ve argued.”

It was like saying: even if we’ve argued, I’ll still walk you home.

Unlike the last time, on this occasion he walked ahead and she followed behind. They still didn’t say much along the way. When they reached the office building that housed the art studio, they said a simple farewell.

She watched him enter the building, his silhouette still slender and lean, but without the confident swagger of his usual self.

The elevator gave a “ding” and opened. He stepped inside, turned around to press the floor button, and as he raised his eyes, his gaze met hers where she stood outside. His look was deep, clean, and quietly serene.

Then the elevator doors closed. Li Kuiyi stood where she was, momentarily dazed, and suddenly thought of what she could give him.

A while back, he had mentioned that the floor of the art studio had a habit of swallowing up erasers, and his whole box of Sakura erasers was down to just two. She could give him a whole box — it would be genuinely useful to him, and it would show that she had kept what he said in mind.

A truly nice little gift.

Li Kuiyi turned around and ran toward the stationery shop near the school. After searching through the shelves, she finally found the brand of eraser He Youyuan always used. She picked one up and said to the owner: “This eraser — I’d like a full box.”

The owner smiled knowingly: “A fine arts student, aren’t you? Only you arts students buy this kind. They say it’s especially good for erasing highlights.”

Li Kuiyi didn’t deny it, just smiled in return. She asked the price, paid, and left.

Cradling the large box of Sakura erasers, she turned and ran back toward the office building where the art studio was, her schoolbag bouncing happily against her back. But just as she got close, she spotted He Youyuan’s figure — standing in the wide open space in front of the building. Facing him was a middle-aged man, quite tall, with thick hair and a well-maintained build, though the lines at the corners of his eyes betrayed something of his age.

Li Kuiyi was still puzzling over who this middle-aged man was, and wavering over whether to approach, when the man suddenly seemed to fly into a rage, raised his palm, and struck He Youyuan across the face.

He Youyuan’s face was turned slightly to the side by the force of it. He gave a brief twist of the lips.

Li Kuiyi’s heart seized. On pure instinct, she ran over and stepped directly in front of He Youyuan, raised her eyes, and demanded in a loud, clear voice: “Why did you hit him?”

Both men startled.

He Youyuan stared in astonishment at her — who had appeared from nowhere — watched her fix a cold, unwavering gaze on the man before them, watched her step in front of him without any hesitation. She was a full head shorter than him, and yet she had stood in front of him to shield him.

“You are…” The middle-aged man narrowed his eyes.

Before the question was even fully out, he seemed to understand. He let out a faint, contemptuous laugh.

“I —” Li Kuiyi opened her mouth, barely getting a single syllable out before He Youyuan gripped her arm and pulled her behind him. Then, in a cold voice, he addressed the man: “Who she is has nothing to do with you. And you and I have nothing to do with each other. Don’t come looking for me again. I’ll say it one more time: I do not need a father who cheats.”

Li Kuiyi’s eyes went wide in shock. She couldn’t help looking over at the man, and saw his complexion turn a steely grey. He drew a long, deep breath, his chest swelling — as if the next slap was about to fall on He Youyuan’s face again. But He Youyuan raised his chin, let out a quiet scoff of his own, took hold of her wrist, turned around, and walked away.

He kept walking forward, gripping her wrist in his hand, gripping it extremely tightly, leaving a flush of red blooming on her skin.

Dusk was closing in around them. His profile gradually darkened in her eyes, until it became a sharp and distinct silhouette. Birds flapped and rustled homeward across the sky, yet he kept leading her forward, holding her wrist, not looking back, not making a sound, and with no destination in sight.

Not until they had walked into the soft blur of nightfall did she finally call to him.

“He Youyuan…”

Her wrist turned over in his grasp, as if trying to pull free. His footsteps faltered; only then did he become aware of the skin pressed close against his palm. He looked back, and lowered his eyes to look.

He loosened his fingers. Her hand, like a small fish, slipped nimbly out from beneath his fingers. Just as he stood there at a loss, her fingertips — slightly cool — entered his palm and gave a gentle squeeze.

“Just now, you were holding… a little too tightly.”