The flight was about three hours, landing after dinner.

Ning Sui had privately hoped to spend a bit more time with Xie Yichen — but Fanghui, upon hearing she was coming home, had made enthusiastic arrangements ahead of time: she’d brought Ning Deyan and, on top of that, had managed to rope in Hu Ke’er’s parents, who happened to all be in one place, to come pick them up together.

So that night didn’t afford much time together at all. Ning Sui and Hu Ke’er got off the plane and were promptly collected by their respective families, obediently whisked home by their parents.

Xia Fanghui had gotten a sleek short haircut, dyed a rich reddish-brown. Her hair was glossy and polished, and among the four parents present she radiated noticeably more energy and spirit than the rest.

As she always did when she came home, Ning Sui went to visit her grandmother first. According to Fanghui, her grandmother’s condition had grown steadily more stable — even improving somewhat — though she still needed to remain in hospital for observation for a while longer.

Her grandmother was overjoyed and kept holding her hand, talking for a long while. Ning Sui had also brought gifts from Beijing for both her grandmother and grandfather — souvenirs and keepsakes from Tsinghua University and Peking University.

She had gifts for Fanghui and her father, of course, as well.

When they got home that night, Ning Sui noticed a number of new things had appeared in the apartment. Fresh tea leaves and tonics sat in the corner — all good brands. A new decorative metal elephant figurine had appeared on the coffee table, bought on a trip Fanghui and Ning Deyan had taken with Ning Yue.

Fanghui had also prepared a pot of fresh chicken broth. She studied Ning Sui closely for a moment before asking with a note of concern: “Have you lost weight? Are you not getting enough to eat up in Beijing?”

Every time Fanghui said this. Ning Sui’s weight had barely changed at all. She found it both funny and a little exasperating: “No, Mum — I eat a lot every single meal.”

Xia Fanghui was unconvinced. Ning Sui had to pull up the photos she’d taken at the campus canteen before her mother believed her.

In truth, compared to Ning Sui, Xia Fanghui was the one who’d changed considerably. She seemed to have slimmed down, but with the new haircut, her whole bearing had brightened. Ning Sui threw in a casual compliment: “Mum, that hair color really suits you.”

Xia Fanghui paused, glanced at Ning Deyan, then reached up to pat her hair with smug satisfaction: “Right? I said it was pretty. Your dad kept saying it was too red.”

Ning Deyan looked as though he’d swallowed something disagreeable, but didn’t dare argue with Fanghui: “I didn’t say it like that.”

Xia Fanghui ignored him and turned her concern back to Ning Sui: “How were your grades this semester?”

Ning Sui thought about it: “They haven’t come out yet — but I think I did quite well on the finals.”

Xia Fanghui looked both pleased and skeptical: “Really? That confident?”

Ning Deyan said: “We believe in our girl.”

Xia Fanghui gave him a slow, sideways glance. Ning Deyan immediately switched on his most ingratiating smile and, taking Ning Sui by the hand, said: “By the way, Xiao Ye, I have a very important mission for you.”

“What is it?”

Xia Fanghui knew exactly what nonsense he was about to say: “Don’t listen to him.”

Ning Deyan smiled his most winning smile and pointed to the inner room: “I’m putting you in charge of keeping an eye on your little one’s holiday homework, piano lessons, and painting class.”

To help Ning Yue develop his talents across both arts and academics, Fanghui had enrolled him in an additional painting class. Xia Fanghui had been busy with work for the past half year, so the supervision had fallen to Ning Deyan — but now that the holiday rescuer had arrived home, Ning Deyan the master shirker seized the opportunity to pass it off immediately.

He closed his eyes and complained: “That kid is impossible. I really can’t deal with him.”

Ning Yue’s voice floated out from the inner room, indignant and exasperated: “Dad! I can hear everything you’re saying.”

Ning Deyan: “I know.”

Ning Yue: “?”

—

Ning Sui’s plan for the holiday, as presented to Xia Fanghui, was to get her Category B driving license theory test, and to study for the TOEFL and GRE. She didn’t currently have any plans to study abroad — but as far as Fanghui was concerned, having these qualifications never hurt, and every extra certificate was another layer of security.

Under Fanghui’s firm and vigorous mediation, Ning Sui and her father eventually reached an agreement: Ning Yue would attend his piano or painting classes during the day, and Ning Sui would only be responsible for dropping him off in the morning and answering the occasional question — the rest would remain Ning Deyan’s responsibility.

Ning Sui was perfectly happy with this arrangement. In the mornings she would drop Ning Yue off and then go meet Xie Yichen to study together. What she told Fanghui, however, was that she and Hu Ke’er were studying for the TOEFL together at the library. This made sense, since Hu Ke’er was in the English department — Fanghui would likely consider her a reliable study companion.

Ning Sui also found Hu Ke’er to be an extremely reliable cover — well-experienced at that. She was genuinely with Hu Ke’er for only the first two times, taking a few calls from Fanghui in the process to build up credibility, and after that she was consistently going out with Xie Yichen instead.

They’d found one of those couple’s study spaces — a private, enclosed room with a desk, chairs, sofa, and television, fully self-contained. It was rented by the day, like a hotel. No one would disturb them. If they wanted fruit or drinks, they could simply call the front desk and have it delivered.

Xie Yichen was fairly busy lately — between matters related to FlashMap and preparing for the ACM/ICPC World Finals in early March.

The first time Ning Sui went to one of those couple’s study spaces, she felt her pulse inexplicably quicken. Because aside from having no bed, and with a slightly more personalized interior — more colorful, with more distinctive décor — the room was frankly indistinguishable from a hotel room.

She thought quietly to herself that this kind of thing might well go on the “things to do before I lose my mind” list.

…Probably.

The climate in Huai’an was warmer than in Beijing. Xie Yichen had dressed casually that day — a plain white t-shirt over a navy-blue sports-style jacket, wide-legged cropped trousers, broad-shouldered and narrow-waisted, his physique on full, unhidden display.

He hadn’t brought much — just a black backpack with a laptop inside.

There were two long tables in the room. Xie Yichen gave the wider one to Ning Sui and took the one against the wall for himself.

He typed code at his desk while Ning Sui sat about a meter away, working properly through her TOEFL vocabulary.

When studying seriously, time passed quickly. Ning Sui didn’t notice until two hours had gone by. She looked up midway through to find Xie Yichen sprawled lazily on the sofa, the television on, scrolling through what to watch.

He’d chosen a popular drama that had been making the rounds recently. Normally he would have put in his earphones to avoid disturbing Ning Sui — but the visuals were genuinely hard to ignore. Ning Sui caught a few glimpses, couldn’t resist, and went over to sit beside him.

Xie Yichen glanced sideways at her, smiled, and simply took out his earphones and switched to the external speakers.

A bowl of freshly-ordered fruit was on the table. He carefully unwrapped the toothpick fork, speared a strawberry, and handed it to her: “Help yourself to whatever you want.”

Ning Sui nodded and finished the strawberry in a few bites. She shifted slightly closer to him: “Mm.”

It was a crime drama about anti-triad operations. The male lead was a police officer and had to go undercover in a criminal organization right from the opening scene — every one of them dangerous and menacing, their expressions fierce and intimidating.

Ning Sui had come in partway through and didn’t fully understand the character dynamics. She ate her strawberry and kept her eyes on the screen: “Does the ‘Donkey Brother’ guy know he’s a cop yet?”

Xie Yichen: “Not yet.”

Though he didn’t know yet, the male lead quickly fell under suspicion and was hung up and tortured in an extended interrogation. Ning Sui was the type with a small heart but an insatiable curiosity — the scene was genuinely difficult to watch, each scream following the last. She covered her face with her hands and peeked through the gaps between her fingers.

Xie Yichen looked at her and couldn’t help laughing. He turned the volume down: “If it’s too scary, we can watch something else.”

— Ahhh!!

Another scream from the television. Ning Sui’s shoulders flinched slightly. She held still for two seconds, then her contrarian streak asserted itself in a slow drawl: “No — I’m fine.”

Ning Sui startled easily at sudden sounds. Every time something happened on screen, she’d jerk reflexively — and then drift closer and closer in Xie Yichen’s direction.

Her hair was long and straight, and the ends kept brushing against Xie Yichen’s neck, making him a little ticklish. From where he sat, he could only see the soft, pale curve of her cheek, her thick lashes fluttering open and closed like a little fan. They were very pretty.

Xie Yichen’s throat shifted slightly. He stretched out one arm and pulled her directly into his side.

Ning Sui’s cheek pressed firmly against Xie Yichen’s shoulder, and her heart drummed away in chaos — unable to tell, in that moment, quite what was causing it. Even as the tension ran high, she found herself involuntarily distracted by a different thought —

His smell is really, really good.

But the drama was gripping too. Ning Sui kept half her focus trained anxiously on the screen, face half-covered: “What do we do — the undercover identity’s been blown. They’re not going to kill him outright, are they?”

“What are they forcing him to drink? Is it a sedative or a poison?”

“What do we do, what do we do — why did they take him and dump him out at sea? There’s no one who can rescue him now, he’s done for —”

Xie Yichen hadn’t anticipated that despite being scared, she would stubbornly refuse to stop watching and was reduced to fragmented, anxious murmuring. He found it funny and at the same time couldn’t believe how endearing she was. He pulled her a little closer.

But she was still whispering nonstop near his ear, her warm breath drifting past, along with that particular faint peach-like sweetness she carried on her — only detectable at this proximity. It gave him a vague, restless edge.

Xie Yichen’s attention had already begun to slip from the television. He seemed to have formed a slightly wicked idea, though he held it back and let nothing show.

“Ning Coconut.” Xie Yichen shifted his gaze for a moment and reached up to pinch her cheek. It was — as expected — soft.

He tried to negotiate with her. His voice came out low: “Can you watch television without talking?”

Ning Sui’s thoughts were still submerged in the drama. Her mind was too tired to turn. She looked at him with innocent incomprehension for two seconds and arrived at her conclusion: “You’re scolding me.”

“…”

How on earth does that translate to scolding you.

Xie Yichen lowered his eyes, preparing to reason with her — when Ning Sui, who had been frightened and leaning his way, accidentally kissed him on the neck.

Precisely on his throat.

The television was still playing. Both of them went very still.

Ning Sui’s gaze fixed rigidly on the distinctly prominent contour before her. She’d applied lip balm before leaving the house that morning, so the contact had left a sufficiently clear pink impression.

She suspected it probably wasn’t comfortable — because that same contour was moving up and down in an uncontrolled way, carrying a kind of indescribable tension.

Xie Yichen lowered his dark eyes and looked at her without speaking. Ning Sui, apparently registering the danger a beat too late, instinctively tried to retreat — and was caught by the arm and pinned in place.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asked dangerously, his voice low, muffled and faintly hoarse.

“I…” wasn’t going anywhere.

Ning Sui’s reflex was to deny it, but she lacked the brass to say “spin around in place” a second time. She was in the wrong and she knew it — and she was feeling more than a little flustered. She protested in a small voice: “Aren’t you the one holding me here?”

“…”

Ning Sui’s gaze kept drifting back to that spot. She was quiet for a few seconds, then offered sincerely: “Do you want me to wipe it off?”

Xie Yichen stared straight at her and suddenly laughed: “No need.”

Ning Sui didn’t quite understand what “no need” meant.

He just took hold of her hand and, without a word of ceremony, pressed it over.

Ning Sui was held against the sofa back with no room to move. The moment their lips touched, her mind went briefly, softly blank.

Their second kiss — arrived with all the force of a tide coming in.

He had an edge to him, truly — coming in first with a firm bite. When Ning Sui wrinkled her brow in aggrieved protest, he abruptly softened, licking and soothing her lips with delicate care, as though coaxing something sweet from a piece of candy.

Ning Sui was scorched by the heat in his breath and stayed very still, too dazed to move. Xie Yichen kissed her in fine, close detail. He seemed to love holding her — one arm trapping her between his body and the sofa cushion, the other hand cradling her face.

The sound from the television was still going. It felt rather too loud now. Xie Yichen pressed his brow down slightly, felt along the side of the sofa for the remote, and switched it off directly.

The room fell instantly quiet.

Ning Sui had long since stopped watching the television. She couldn’t afford to think about turning it off — her mind flickered for barely a second before, taking advantage of her lips parting slightly, the tip of his tongue pressed inward.

The electric current surged through her again — along with a warm, numbing, rushing wave of sensation. Ning Sui had no words for it. She’d had no experience of anything like it before. Half her body felt boneless. Her head was clouded, as though she’d drifted to the top of a cloud, and all she could do was reach up and clutch at his shoulder.

Xie Yichen seemed to consume her every breath — at each moment she was about to run out of air, he would release her lips and give her just enough space to breathe.

A thought surfaced in Ning Sui’s mind.

How is it that with equal experience, some people just seem to know these things instinctively?

Did he secretly watch videos to learn?

He’s making me look terribly incompetent.

Ugh.

Taking advantage of the next moment he released her, Ning Sui breathed hard, face red, and launched a preemptive strike: “Why do you know how to French kiss?”

Xie Yichen raised an eyebrow — handsome to an almost unreasonable degree — and said something with a shameless, lazy edge: “Pretty simple, actually. You just push in and it’s done.”

Ning Sui: “…”

She had watched enough romantic drama to have wondered what it would feel like — the scenes where both people were completely absorbed, visibly swept away.

Now she knew. The dramas had told the truth.

Ning Sui’s heart thudded. She wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

The handsome face before her was just inches away. Both of them could hear each other’s quickened breathing. She stared at him, tense, with no idea what should happen next.

Ning Sui’s lips were naturally a pretty shape — soft as jelly, tinged with a faint pink.

Deeply kissable.

Beautifully scented, too.

Xie Yichen lowered his gaze for a moment, then cupped the back of her head and kissed her again.

Ning Sui had just eaten strawberries. Her lips were soft, her mouth sweet. What she felt from him and what he felt from her were entirely different sensations. It was their first time going this far, and they were still inexperienced — but the tip of his tongue tangled with hers in scorching, earnest exploration. Kissing each other, truly kissing.

Xie Yichen couldn’t have described what he felt. His heartbeat roared through him. He couldn’t stop himself from stroking her cheek and running his hand through her hair. His little coconut — she was soft everywhere.

Warm breath moved between them, broken and close. His fingers followed along to the back of her neck, and then without warning brushed something — a small patch of skin that felt different from the rest, slightly raised.

Dazed as he was, he still wanted to understand her more concretely.

He didn’t know what it was — but his thumb began to trace it softly.

Ning Sui reacted as though it were a tender spot. Her body gave a faint shudder and she pulled back slightly, as if resisting — but only for a moment. Then she settled quietly and let him hold her.

Xie Yichen noticed at once. He didn’t continue kissing her, but he didn’t let go either — he simply held her tightly.

He was still breathing a little unevenly. His forehead rested against hers as he steadied himself, then dropped his voice: “What’s wrong?”

Ning Sui was curled completely into his arms, her heartbeat rapid, her breath mingled with his.

She kept her eyes low. After a moment, her voice came out soft: “It’s a scar.”

Ning Sui’s expression was quiet. Looking like that, she seemed very close to tears.

Xie Yichen felt something catch inside his chest. He tilted her face gently toward him and said softly: “Let me see.”

Ning Sui hesitated for a moment, then gathered her hair and swept it forward over one shoulder, and turned slightly away.

Xie Yichen saw the scar quickly.

A faint pale-pink mark — a small patch, where her neck met the hairline. No hair grew there anymore. It had the shape of a fully bloomed peach blossom.

“Can I touch it?”

“…Mm.”

Xie Yichen looked at it for a moment and touched it gently with his fingertip.

He was very light-handed. Like touching air.

But Ning Sui still gave a slight flinch. She pressed her lips together and said: “My mum threw a book at me when she was angry.”

She had never told him this as pen pals, and she hadn’t brought it up when they’d sat together on the staircase during the second-year training camp either.

The light in Xie Yichen’s eyes went dark. He asked quietly: “Did it hurt?”

“It hurt quite a lot at the time — there’s nothing there now.” Without being able to see Ning Sui’s face, it was hard to read her tone — only that she seemed to be describing it evenly, without heat: “I know she didn’t mean it. She was under too much pressure then. She couldn’t control herself.”

The Xia Fanghui of today was so much better — incomparably better than the person she’d been back then.

But those moments of frenzied desperation were something Ning Sui preferred not to revisit.

She had always been careful, always been patient, always been gentle with everyone — out of fear of returning to that kind of environment.

A faint dampness gathered at the corners of Ning Sui’s eyes. She blinked hard, pushing it all back. Then she swept her hair down, turned back around.

She didn’t know what to say. Sometimes she would sink into feelings that were something like self-loathing — a sense that she was imperfect from head to toe, body and character both. She didn’t want him to see her scar anymore, and she didn’t want him to see her eyes right now. She lowered her head: “Xie Yichen.”

They were still sitting very close. Without warning, he simply pulled her in — stretched out one arm and pressed her neatly into his chest: “Mm.”

Ning Sui went still for a moment.

Ah. Like this, he couldn’t see either.

She pressed her lips together and said quietly: “Does the scar bother you? It’s ugly.”

“What’s there to be bothered by?”

Xie Yichen held her closer, pulling her further in. His chest was warm and broad, and his voice near her ear was low and unhurried: “Besides — it’s not ugly at all. It’s beautiful.”

Ning Sui felt he was just saying it to comfort her. Even so, that small knot of hurt dissolved, very cleanly.

She buried her face in his chest, her voice muffled: “Really?”

“Really. Very pretty — like a flower.” Xie Yichen gave a soft laugh, and the warmth of his palm settled over the back of her head, slow and affectionate, pressing and rubbing gently: “And — did you forget? I have a scar on my arm too.”

Ning Sui blinked vacantly, as though the thought had only just occurred to her: “Oh?”

Xie Yichen turned her own words back on her: “Does it bother you?”

Ning Sui stopped: “No.”

“Then there you go.”

His tone suggested this was simply not a thing worth holding in one’s heart.

Ning Sui was quiet for a beat: “Oh.”

Whatever else she’d thought to say a moment ago — it no longer felt necessary. She thought about it from his side, and found that he was right. The tight, taut thing in her chest began to ease, slowly. She tipped her chin to the side, resting it against his shoulder, and her breathing gradually settled.

After a little while, she asked: “Can I look at yours again? I didn’t get a good look last time.”

He knew what she meant: “Mm.”

Xie Yichen took off his jacket. Underneath was a white short-sleeved shirt, which left the inside of his forearm fully visible.

He made no attempt to cover it — just held his arm out for her to see.

The last time Ning Sui had seen this scar was during the Yunnan trip, and even then, never at this close a distance.

His forearm was lean and defined, a healthy skin tone, veins running clearly beneath the surface. Her fingers moved tentatively and touched it — tracing it slowly and carefully. Xie Yichen felt a tickle, and smiled involuntarily, his dark eyes looking at her steadily: “Got a good enough look this time?”

“…Mm.”

Ning Sui didn’t know whether he’d been in as much pain as she had when it happened.

He must have been, she thought.

But he’d never once shown it in front of her.

Something quietly bitter stirred inside her. She pressed her lips together and asked anyway: “Does it not hurt anymore?”

“Long since healed.”

Seeing her stare at it so intently, Xie Yichen raised an eyebrow and gathered her slender white fingers into his palm, turning them gently over.

He looked at her with an expression of playful amusement and asked: “So? Isn’t it kind of nice-looking too?”

“Mm.” Ning Sui had always thought this scar made him look harder, more resilient — gave him a kind of raw, unpolished edge. She blinked slowly and offered her considered assessment in a slow drawl: “It has a sort of come-hither quality about it.”

“…”

A scar. And somehow she sees that.

Xie Yichen was genuinely struck by this particular turn of phrase. He laughed and reached over to pinch her face.

“You’re a little peach blossom yourself — who’s more come-hither, you or me?”

Ning Sui couldn’t help being coaxed into a laugh. She leaned back to dodge his reach.

They fooled around for a bit. Xie Yichen was the first to stop, settling lazily back against the sofa.

Ning Sui stared at the inside of his forearm for another moment, then let her gaze travel to his face — the sharp line of his jaw, the dark, headstrong eyes. Up close, she could see a tiny reflection of herself inside them.

The light in her peach-blossom eyes lifted slightly. Ning Sui felt herself drawn forward without quite meaning to. She leaned in a little, smiling softly, and murmured: “Xie Yichen, you’re really good at making people feel better.”

He’d turned her mood around just like that.

Xie Yichen looked at her. The corner of his brow arched up in that casual, unhurried way.

“Mm.” His breath was clean, the intimacy of it close and low, a smile in his voice against her ear: “So come here and let me hold you?”

Ning Sui genuinely liked the sound of Xie Yichen’s voice — always warm and resonant, unhurried in its cadence. She nestled and shifted toward him, curling into his arms: “Okay.”

It was past four in the afternoon. The light outside was still good. The two of them lazed about looking at their phones for a while.

Ning Sui saw a message from Ning Deyan, and her thoughts cleared a little. She opened it.

Ning Deyan: 【My sweet daughter, on your way back could you grab me two packs of spicy snack strips, three packs of scroll bubble gum, and a dozen cans of Coca-Cola?】

Ning Sui’s fingers paused. She was genuinely puzzled — her father never ate snacks, and had never made such a bizarre request before: 【Dad, didn’t you go with Ning Yue to the painting class?】

Ning Deyan: 【Oh right, Dad suddenly got a craving for snacks — but doesn’t know where the convenience store is, and didn’t want to lead Ning Yue astray by taking him along to find it.】

Suisui Suisui Suisui: 【Oh】

Suisui Suisui Suisui: 【Little guy is behaving well today?】

Ning Deyan: 【？】

Suisui Suisui Suisui: 【How come you’re suddenly calling him by his full name? [Grinning]】

Ning Deyan: 【Being a stickler for details…】

Ning Deyan has unsent a message.

Ning Deyan: 【.】

Suisui Suisui Suisui: 【.】

Suisui Suisui Suisui: 【Ning Yue — you took Dad’s phone, didn’t you?】

Ning Deyan: 【I didn’t, I really am Dad!】

Suisui Suisui Suisui: 【When I get back I’m telling him】

Ning Deyan: 【Please don’t, sis!】

Ning Deyan: 【Don’t tell me】

Ning Sui: “…”