Like a pebble dropped into still water.

Thump, thump.

The window in the room was open, and waves of evening breeze drifted in along the moonlight. Inside Ning Sui’s chest, something beat clearly and steadily — like the small, insistent bubbles that surface in a pot of water just coming to a boil, impossible to ignore.

After a moment, she bit her lip and squeezed the bag of candy tight in her hand, then sat down.

She hesitated for a bit, then tore open the packaging, took out one piece, and put it in her mouth, chewing tentatively.

“Is it good?” Xie Yichen asked.

The taste hadn’t changed at all. Ning Sui nodded: “Pretty sweet.”

“Good.” He smiled on the other end.

Her heartbeat was still quick. Ning Sui held the candy in her mouth and quietly took a slow, deep breath.

She didn’t speak, and he didn’t press. The air settled into silence, and for a long stretch of time, neither of them said anything.

But through the earphones, calm, soft breathing drifted in at intervals — as though Xie Yichen were right there beside her, until even the curve of her ear seemed to hold a quiet warmth.

Ning Sui listened to that sound and, gathering her courage, opened Xia Fanghui’s chat.

As expected — after Xia Fanghui’s furious burst of messages, she had eventually calmed herself down on her own.

First came a long string of lengthy paragraphs, and then a final line: [As long as you’re back, that’s fine. Get some rest early. Good night.]

Ning Sui replied “goodnight,” then turned her phone face-down on the table, and slowly began to prepare herself.

The other end of the call had gone quiet. Suddenly a little worried, she asked tentatively: “……Are you still there?”

The next moment, there came a pair of deliberate beeping sounds, followed by a low, resonant voice, dramatically drawn out: “Your AI chatbot is now online. What may I assist you with?”

“……”

Ning Sui suddenly had the absurd feeling of being defeated by someone using her own tricks against her.

She touched the tip of her nose and quietly covered the smile at the corner of her mouth.

They knew each other well enough by now — no need to dance around things.

Ning Sui let her lashes fall and said softly: “Actually… the reason I’m in a bad mood today is still because of my mom.”

She explained what had happened in brief, then said: “I just don’t understand why she always treats me like a child who hasn’t grown up.”

She was eighteen already. An adult.

Many of her peers at this age were already independent — some even working to support themselves.

Yet Xia Fanghui still managed and monitored everything, as if controlling every aspect of her life were second nature.

Sometimes this made Ning Sui feel a kind of suffocating pressure.

Could too much love become a burden?

She honestly didn’t know.

Back in her second year of high school, Ning Sui remembered going through a particularly difficult period. When Xia Fanghui’s controlling nature was heaped on top of everything else, she had once broken down and poured her heart out to that pen pal.

[I have no secrets in front of her. That’s why I never keep a diary, and why I hate it when people try to get too close.]

[She reads my phone. She demands to see my chat records. In front of her, I feel like a person who has been stripped bare — without any privacy or dignity to speak of.]

Because of this, there were times when Ning Sui only wanted everyone to leave her alone — to let her curl up quietly in her own small world, that door to her heart pulled firmly shut.

Too much love and attention was its own kind of intrusion.

[That probably sounds dramatic. But I feel like the attention I receive is something I can’t carry — it presses down on me like a tide, so dense and relentless I can barely breathe.]

And so she had never quite learned how to be close to people. There was always something like a wall inside her.

— Of course, Ning Sui acknowledged that those words had been said in the heat of anger, somewhat overwrought.

Every time she calmed down afterward, she would remember all the good things about Xia Fanghui.

Her maternal grandparents’ family hadn’t been well-off, and her grandmother had always been frugal. Xia Fanghui had grown up tightening her belt, never quite full or warmly dressed.

Even now, she still lived by those thrifty habits — and yet whenever she bought things for Ning Sui, she became an entirely different person: extravagant without a second thought, always wanting the best and most expensive.

Ning Deyan was indulgent enough, by any measure — but Xia Fanghui surpassed even him. When Ning Sui was born, she had taken out a rather substantial insurance policy for her; when Ning Yue came along, she had not done the same.

If other families showed a preference for sons, theirs perhaps leaned the other way.

From those first toddling steps in kindergarten to this moment of setting off for university — across eighteen years of life — there had not been a single small thing that Xia Fanghui had not tended to with painstaking care: making sure she had eaten her fill, was warmly dressed, and was genuinely happy.

If Ning Sui said she was unhappy, Xia Fanghui would probably be a hundred times more unhappy than her.

When Xia Fanghui herself had a high fever, she would still push through and work overtime through the night — but if Ning Sui caught even the smallest cold, Xia Fanghui would be beside herself with worry.

And Xia Fanghui always seemed to notice Ning Sui’s quietly held wishes.

When she was small, the family had joined a tour group to Suzhou. There was a whole street there selling the kinds of handcrafted little things Ning Sui loved, but because the itinerary was packed tight, they only made it through half the street before being herded away.

Ning Sui had been dragged off looking back with every other step, eyes red with disappointment. But that evening, without anyone asking, Xia Fanghui quietly skipped the upscale teahouse performance everyone else had gone to see, and instead took her daughter across half of Suzhou by taxi to finish the other half of that street.

That memory had stayed with Ning Sui for a very long time, warming her deeply.

Sometimes Ning Sui thought: she ought to feel fortunate.

Not everyone got to be loved like this.

But at other times, the ache still came — inevitable, unavoidable.

Ning Sui felt her thoughts were a little tangled right now. Maybe it was because she was in the middle of it all and couldn’t see clearly. And so she found herself wishing, very much, that someone could say something to illuminate things for her.

She had talked through it all in a rush, and at the end, she lifted her hand and gently touched the corner of her eye: “Xie Yichen, do you think I’m being terribly ungrateful — enjoying my mom’s kindness with one hand, while pushing away her control with the other?”

She was genuinely lost, and even as she asked, she didn’t expect any real answer.

Maybe there simply wasn’t one.

To her surprise, the other end of the phone gave a slight shift — and unhurriedly said with a teasing lilt: “This is nothing.”

Ning Sui: “Hmm?”

Xie Yichen: “If you’re going to call that ungrateful, then here I am — keeping it from my dad that I gave away his money to some other relative.”

He was unapologetically self-aware about it: “That goes way beyond ungrateful — I’d have to add ‘reckless wastrel’ on top of it.”

Oh right — three to four million.

Ning Sui remembered, and fell quiet for a moment — then found herself inexplicably wanting to laugh.

Compared to that… it really did seem like she had a long way to go before competing.

Xie Yichen gave another laugh, his voice lazy and warm: “I’m the worst in the world — no one comes close. I’ve got you covered. Don’t worry.”

“……”

Ning Sui thought his way of offering comfort was both blunt and utterly peculiar.

And yet, somehow, just a few words and everything shifted — what had felt heavy turned light.

She wet her lips. The phone pressed warmly against her cheek. Slowly, she blinked and reached for another candy.

Sweet.

Both of them went quiet for a moment. Then Xie Yichen’s voice came back, low and unhurried, his tone gentle and earnest: “Would you like to hear how I see things?”

Ning Sui startled slightly, then immediately nodded: “Yes.”

Xie Yichen said: “From your mom’s perspective — she loves you, and so she wants to know everything about you. That impulse, in itself, isn’t wrong.”

“But from your perspective, you also need your own private space. You want to have your own life. It makes complete sense that her approach would feel off to you. So — you don’t need to feel guilty for having those feelings.”

“On the contrary, I think it says a lot about you that you can still find it in yourself to understand her situation. In your position, I’m not sure I would have handled it as well as you have.”

Hearing him put it so evenly and fairly made Ning Sui feel genuinely settled.

It was nothing like what some adults tended to say — standing on some moral high ground and telling her, your mom works so hard, her temper’s a little sharp, but you should be more understanding and patient with her.

“Ning Sui.” Xie Yichen paused, and said her name with quiet intention.

“You are a complete, independent person. You have the right to make your own choices — and the ability to take responsibility for them.”

“If she doesn’t trust that you’ve grown up, then show her. Prove it.”

Ning Sui felt something open wide inside her, all at once.

Or rather — talking with him always left her with that sensation: a sudden clearing, as though a narrow path had revealed a vast open sky. Something effortless and light, as if four ounces had deflected a thousand pounds. Everything felt manageable, nothing insurmountable.

She had always thought it was mathematics that gave them so much common ground — but later, she had come to realize that not everyone who studied mathematics could make her feel this particular kind of kinship.

At the very least, having dinner earlier tonight with Gao Che, the senior from the Mathematics Department, hadn’t given her that same feeling of something special and rare.

Though perhaps it was just her, reading too much into it. Still, Ning Sui had always felt that the way Xie Yichen spoke bore some resemblance to her old pen pal.

But she couldn’t remember the specifics of how that person used to reply anymore.

Ning Sui squeezed the candy bag between her fingers and made a quiet sound of acknowledgment.

Something about her heartbeat kept feeling too fast. She instinctively asked: “Did you ever use that math competition Q&A site?”

A brief pause on the other end, then a light laugh: “Where did that come from? What site?”

“Leonhard Euler — I mentioned it to you before.”

He replied in an offhand, casual way: “I might have looked something up there? I don’t really remember.”

Ning Sui kept her eyes on the bag of candy in a quiet daze, and after a long moment, made another quiet sound.

—

The next day was registration day, and Ning Sui had to be up early to do volunteer work, so she didn’t stay on the call with Xie Yichen for very long.

By nine in the morning, the campus had visibly filled up with people. Ning Sui wore the red-striped volunteer sash she’d been given, and carried out her role diligently — introducing the registration process, guiding new students to their designated dormitories.

By the end of the morning, her assignment was done.

Sun Xiaozhen was also in the Mathematics Department, but Ning Sui didn’t know her very well. She only knew their dorm rooms were quite far apart, and they hadn’t been in much contact.

Back at the dormitory, Ning Sui found that all three of her roommates had already arrived.

One of them had been quietly getting things done on her own — grunting and heaving as she moved her mattress up to the top bunk to fix the mosquito net. When she noticed Ning Sui, she gave a bright, open smile and introduced herself: “Hi, I’m Bi Jiaxi.”

Ning Sui said hello, and noticing how neatly organized her desk already was, asked with curiosity: “Did you do all of this yourself?”

“I did!”

Bi Jiaxi wiped the sweat from her forehead, then said with a straightforward air: “My parents didn’t come with me — so I figured it out on my own. It wasn’t too hard though, hehe.”

While they were talking, another roommate, Liang Xinyue, walked in carrying a mop. When she spotted Ning Sui’s new face, her eyes lit up: “Were you doing volunteer work?”

Ning Sui nodded warmly: “I was.”

The three of them began chatting in a loose triangle.

Liang Xinyue’s parents had come along and followed her in a moment later, both carrying bags and boxes. Bi Jiaxi looked down from the top bunk: “Wow, Xinyue, you brought so much stuff.”

Liang Xinyue’s father rolled his eyes in exasperated resignation, picking up one large banana plush toy. “I told you not to bring everything.” He held it up. “One or two of these for fun is fine, but you packed a whole box of them.”

Liang Xinyue seemed entirely used to her father’s commentary. She rushed over and hugged the plush to her chest, laughing: “It’ll all fit, don’t worry — stop interfering.”

Liang Xinyue was clearly the pampered-daughter type. She was a local, so she had brought a mountain of things — her desk was charmingly arranged with cute blind-box figurines, a calendar, and a small potted succulent.

The fourth roommate had yet to appear. Her suitcases were stacked simply under the desk, not yet properly unpacked.

Bi Jiaxi asked: “Do you know where Yu Qin went? She was here for a bit and then disappeared.”

Liang Xinyue shook her head — she didn’t know either.

The dormitory had that upper-bunk, lower-desk style, and was reasonably spacious. Liang Xinyue’s parents helped give everything a wipe-down before taking their leave. The three of them had just settled in to chat when Yu Qin came rushing back, crying.

Bi Jiaxi, ever the kind-hearted one, immediately pulled out a tissue and went to meet her. Yu Qin dabbed at her eyes, still quietly sniffling.

Liang Xinyue crowded in as well, and they pieced together what had happened.

She had been in a relationship with a senior who was one year ahead of her in high school. They had both gotten into Jing University, and had been long-distance for the past six months.

The moment Yu Qin arrived, she had wanted to surprise him — showing up without warning. What she hadn’t expected was her own surprise landing badly: she found her boyfriend outside the male dormitory building, practically glowing with affection for another girl, the two of them completely wrapped up in each other.

It was, by any measure, a significant blow. She cried with genuine heartbreak. Bi Jiaxi said furiously: “This is absolutely awful — how could he do something like this!”

Liang Xinyue was more direct, already plotting: “Don’t be sad, girl. Want me to find a few guys to rough him up in a bag?”

“……”

Yu Qin kept shedding tears as she said: “I don’t know. My head’s a mess right now.”

After a little while, she struggled to look up, then tugged nervously at Liang Xinyue’s sleeve: “Hey, um… could you actually find someone?”

“……”

No improvised remedies, please.

From where she had been quietly sitting, Ning Sui spoke up: “I have a better idea.”

All three looked over at her. Ning Sui carefully recalled the plan she had once glimpsed online: “You can go to the Helmsley Animal Conservation Centre — for about £1.50, you can have a cockroach named after him. His name will then be permanently listed in the cockroach species registry.”

The three of them: “?”

Well then. Someone had clearly done her research. The imagination knew no bounds.

……

New here and still finding their footing, the four of them were all quite high-spirited.

They talked well into the night, and even after the lights went out and they were all in their bunks, the conversation kept going.

Yu Qin’s mood had steadied a little. She didn’t want to talk about the scumbag for now, so she listened as the others shared their own stories.

Not that there was much to share: besides Liang Xinyue having kissed her childhood sweetheart, both Bi Jiaxi and Ning Sui had never dated anyone.

“He was shocked too — he hadn’t expected to lean down for something and bump right into me. I froze. He froze. Neither of us pulled away. And my very first thought was — wow, his lips are so soft!”

Being this age and never having dated wasn’t unusual. When Liang Xinyue enthusiastically described her first kiss, there was a pure, earnest sweetness in her words — still vivid and fresh — that made you flush just listening.

Ning Sui lay there with her blanket pulled up, listening — and her thoughts drifted without her meaning to.

She wouldn’t say she was particularly observant. It was just that on a few occasions when their eyes had met, and probably because of the difference in their heights, her line of sight naturally landed just a little higher, falling on Xie Yichen’s lips — so certain details had lodged themselves in her memory, whether she’d meant to keep them or not.

— Thin in shape, with a faint tinge of color.

Cool and composed when not smiling. A little arrogant, even.

But every so often, when the corner of his mouth curved — it seemed just slightly wicked.

It was close to two in the morning. Everyone must have been getting tired. Liang Xinyue trailed off mid-sentence, and the responses from the others grew quieter. She called out names one by one to check: “Suisui, are you asleep?”

Ning Sui buried her head under her blanket and mumbled back: “Asleep, asleep.”