That night Lin Tao had a dream. She went back to when she was little — the first time she was sent to live with the teacher at the small daycare.

She couldn’t have been more than three or four years old then. At the age when children were still learning to form words, she would call out for her mom and dad in a soft, lisping voice, and laugh that easy laugh of hers at everyone she met. Her eyes would curve into crescents when she smiled, her lips and teeth a healthy pink and white, and the grandpas and grandmas in the housing complex adored her.

It was the height of summer. Lin Tao’s father and mother had both quit their jobs and were preparing to enter the real estate industry, which had not yet taken off at the time.

Both of them were only children, and their own parents had passed away early. Little Lin Tao had no one to look after her, and the road ahead was long — they couldn’t very well drag their daughter along to rough it with them. The couple couldn’t find a suitable solution right away.

At this time, Teacher Yang, who lived in the same residential building as the Lin family, volunteered to look after Lin Tao.

The Lin family and the Yang family had always been on good terms, so handing the child over to them felt perfectly safe. The day before they set off, Lin Tao’s mother brought little Lin Tao over to the Yang household. As she was leaving, she gave Teacher Yang an envelope — inside were several thousand yuan.

Teacher Yang tried to refuse, but after enough coaxing from Lin Tao’s mother, she accepted — and in the end, spent all of it on Lin Tao.

Lin Tao’s mother said a few words to little Lin Tao — something to the effect of: be good and listen to Teacher Yang, don’t cry or make trouble, and mom and dad will be back soon.

Little Lin Tao was still too young to fully understand. She hadn’t caught the meaning behind her mother’s words. Not until she was cradled in Teacher Yang’s arms and watched her mother walk out of the Yang home alone — only then did she realize something, and she burst into tears, her soft, lisping voice calling out: “Mama — Mama —”

Lin Tao’s mother heard her daughter crying. Her footsteps slowed for just a moment — but in the end she steeled herself and walked away quickly.

This first time apart lasted nearly half a year. When Lin Tao’s parents came back, little Lin Tao could already dress herself.

They stayed home for barely a month before doing the same thing again — bringing Lin Tao back to the Yang household. And before they left this time, Lin Tao’s mother gave the Yang family a few more thousand yuan.

And Lin Tao, just like the first time, cried her heart out. And just like the first time, her mother never looked back.

In the years that followed, this scene played out again and again at irregular intervals. Sometimes Lin Tao almost hoped they wouldn’t come home at all — because then she wouldn’t have to go through that feeling of loss, just when she’d almost managed to forget what it felt like.

By the time she was older, her father’s business had grown considerably. Her mother became his right hand, and the couple made a firm decision — when Lin Tao was ten, they moved the company back to Xixi City.

In those years, Xixi’s real estate market had been driven up to a frenzy. Her father’s business kept growing. But even though both parents were in Xixi now, they were still often away for ten or fifteen days at a stretch. And Lin Tao, just as before, continued to live at the Yang household.

In the dream, the scenes shifted in ways that made no sense — one moment she was in her parents’ arms, laughing brightly, and the next that warm, happy picture had suddenly shattered and she was running after her mother and father, weeping and calling out for them not to go.

But no matter how she cried or called, the two people walking ahead of her never stopped, never turned around to look at her.

“Don’t go —”

Lin Tao jolted awake. The dream had been so vivid that she had cried in her sleep. The corners of her eyes were still wet with undried tears.

Coming back from the dream, Lin Tao let out a long, slow breath and closed her eyes. But a second later she flung them open again. The ceiling above her had no pattern — it was not the familiar small floral print from her own room.

“……”

In an instant, Lin Tao was fully awake. Countless question marks flooded her mind. Where was she? What was this place? How had she ended up here? Was she even still alive?

The answers to this whole series of questions came to her when she flung aside the blanket in a flurry — she saw the familiar group photo sitting on the nightstand.

She was at the internet café. In the room she’d slept in once before.

That realization settled the weight in her chest. Her long, pale legs dangled over the side of the bed. She looked down and let out a long exhale.

She glanced around — no phone in sight. She didn’t know what time it was, and had no idea whether, after a whole night of not coming home, her mother had worried herself into calling the police.

A pair of slippers had been placed by the bed. Lin Tao stepped into them and headed toward the sofa.

The room had no lights on, and the curtains were drawn tight. The light was dim. Lin Tao shuffled over and spotted her phone on the coffee table.

As she walked over, she also saw the person lying on the sofa.

“……”

Oh, come on.

She swallowed the curse before it could escape.

The young man looked like he hadn’t slept very comfortably — his brow was lightly creased, the blanket half on him and half trailing on the floor, his arm resting on top of the blanket.

Lin Tao hadn’t realized Jiang Yan was also sleeping in the room. Finding him there now, her footsteps slowed without thinking. She went around the sofa, reached down and pulled the blanket back up to cover him properly, then picked up her phone.

The screen lit up — the time showed it had just passed five o’clock.

“Up already?” A low, hoarse voice came from behind her.

Lin Tao startled badly — something in the sound made her yelp — and at the same time she jumped sideways a step.

“……”

Jiang Yan had been dimly aware of some soft rustling at first, not yet fully alert. But that clear, sharp sound of hers woke him up completely. He pushed himself up from the sofa and reached over to turn on the floor lamp beside him.

The room brightened.

Lin Tao now had a proper look at his swollen nose, and the exhaustion pooled in his eyes. She asked uncertainly: “What happened to your nose?”

Jiang Yan had been kept up by her antics until past three in the morning before finally getting to sleep. His head was aching now. He looked up at her. “You don’t remember?”

“What should I remember……” Lin Tao genuinely had no recollection at all. She only remembered being downstairs with Guan Che, drinking and eating hot pot.

And then?

And then she’d slept, and woken up here. Everything between finishing the drink and falling asleep had been completely wiped from her memory.

Jiang Yan rubbed his eyes. He bent his long legs and rested his arm across his knees, his voice carrying a thick heaviness of sleep deprivation. “You really don’t remember? Last night you were crying and calling me ‘daddy.'”

“……” I didn’t, I would never, stop making things up.

Jiang Yan watched her calmly, eyes holding a quiet amusement. “I didn’t agree to it. So you just swung a fist at me.”

“……”

It was after five in the morning, and the sky hadn’t fully brightened yet. It was a deep, dark blue, with a pale crescent still hanging in the sky.

The morning air was cool. When Lin Tao stepped out of the internet café, she was still wearing the black jacket Jiang Yan had given her the night before.

The oversized garment wrapped around her completely.

Lin Tao and Jiang Yan walked side by side through the alley. At this hour, the breakfast stalls in the lane hadn’t set up yet, and things hadn’t gotten busy.

Lin Tao glanced at Jiang Yan — who had on only a short-sleeved shirt — and spoke up. “Why don’t you head back? I can find a cab from here on my own.”

The young man hadn’t slept well, his face heavy with exhaustion, the corners of his eyes still faintly red. He yawned at her words, then pointed toward the junction ahead. “I’ll walk you there. Once you’re in the car I’ll come back.”

His tone didn’t invite argument. Lin Tao didn’t say anything more.

The alley wasn’t far from the junction. In the mornings there weren’t many cars, and Lin Tao stood at the corner for about seven or eight minutes before spotting an empty cab.

She flagged it down and pulled open the door, then glanced up at the person standing by the roadside.

He stood in the pale light of early morning — wearing a thin short-sleeved shirt, matched with a pair of black casual trousers and cotton slip-on shoes. The fringe above his forehead was tousled from sleep.

There was a somewhat ridiculous-looking injury across his nose. Clearly exhausted, yet because he couldn’t feel settled about her getting home alone, he’d pushed himself to walk her out.

Lin Tao felt something stir in her chest that she couldn’t quite put a name to.

She had always been independent, for as long as she could remember. Whenever something happened or a decision needed to be made, she handled it on her own.

Her parents gave her freedom and openness in abundance — while giving her a great deal less in the way of close attention.

For a period of time, Lin Tao had been quite envious of the kid next door. The reason was simple: whenever he went out, his parents would watch him from the window. Sometimes he’d have walked quite far, and Lin Tao would still be able to see their figures standing at the glass.

These were things she had never experienced.

In her memories, the moments of being together with her parents were sparse — and almost every one of them was of herself standing still, watching her parents’ backs as they walked away.

When she grew a little older and her parents returned to Xixi, they were still so often buried in work that the time they spent with her only shrank. Never grew.

Being looked after in even this simple, quiet way — that was something precious to her.

Lin Tao settled into the backseat. Through the window she saw him still standing at the roadside. She lowered the glass. “Go back. I’ll be home soon.”

Jiang Yan gave a slow, lazy lift of his eyelids, raised his hand and waved it a couple of times, not forgetting to remind her: “Send me a message when you’re in.”

“Okay.”

The cab pulled away. When it had gone quite a distance, Lin Tao turned in her seat and looked through the rear window at the lane entrance.

No one was there anymore.

She turned back and settled against the headrest, closing her eyes. After a moment, she seemed to remember something and reached into her pocket for her phone.

Several missed calls.

She clicked through.

Meng Xin.

Xiao Song.

……

The last several were from Fang Yisong and Lin Yongcheng.

Lin Tao suddenly let out a quiet breath — as though just knowing her parents were still thinking of her, that she hadn’t been overlooked or forgotten, brought relief.

Even if it was only a few missed calls — it still made her feel, deeply, that it was enough.

When Lin Tao arrived home, there was no one inside. Fang Yisong’s slippers were still on the shoe rack by the door.

She changed her shoes, went to her room and sent Jiang Yan a message, then slipped into the bathroom.

She’d had alcohol the night before and smelled of it.

By the time she lowered herself into the warm water, Lin Tao sighed aloud involuntarily. Absolutely heavenly.

She was still a little sleepy, and didn’t dare soak too long in case she drifted off.

When she came out of the bathroom, Lin Tao heard the sound of the front door from outside. She came out with a towel in her hands, still drying her hair, and found her mother standing in the entryway, changing her shoes, bag in hand.

Her mother looked at her and said nothing beyond a gentle, “Have you had breakfast?”

“Not yet.”

“Come eat then. I picked up those little wonton you like.” Her mother finished changing her shoes, picked up the breakfast she’d brought back, and headed toward the kitchen.

Lin Tao had been planning to dry her hair first, but on second thought simply left it damp and followed her. Mother and daughter sat down together at the table.

Her mother didn’t speak first.

Lin Tao had a few mouthfuls of wonton and then caved. “Mom, last night I accidentally had a bit to drink. I fell asleep at a classmate’s place.”

Her mother looked up at her. “I know. Meng Xin told me.”

Lin Tao had seen Meng Xin’s message on the way home — she’d said she’d explained things to Fang Yisong for her. But she hadn’t gone into what exactly she’d said.

Lin Tao hesitated and asked: “……What did Meng Xin tell you?”

“That you were under too much pressure from your studies.” Fang Yisong thought of what Meng Xin had said and couldn’t help sighing. “Your dad and I have never had any grand ambitions for you. Don’t put so much pressure on yourself. Even if you don’t get into a top school, we can support you your whole life.”

“……”

Author’s note: — Meng Xin: I’m just a selfless good Samaritan who asks for no recognition in return —

Something’s come up tonight! So today’s update is early!