The storm came fast and fierce, and rain fell for four or five consecutive days — rain that clung and lingered without letting up. The seven of them watched their sunrise plans be completely ruined by the weather.

Two days before the holiday ended, the rain finally eased. The group made their way back to Xi City.

Unlike Hai City’s persistent grey skies and rain, Xi City greeted them with brilliant sunshine — the sky a clear, washed blue, with nothing but the faint traces of wind through the clouds.

The seven of them were heading in different directions; they hailed three cabs. The cars drove out of the airport one behind the other, then diverged at the elevated interchange, setting off toward three different destinations.

October had arrived, and the temperature in Xi City had dropped considerably. A cool wind blew through the half-open window; Lin Tao reached over and closed it, leaning back against the seat to rest.

Meng Xin’s parents were still abroad. She simply came back with Lin Tao.

Lin Yongcheng and Fang Yisong appeared to be out as well — the two pairs of slippers on the entryway rack were exactly as Lin Tao had left them before the trip.

Lin Tao was used to this. She got out a clean pair of guest slippers for Meng Xin, and the two of them headed to her room.

“Ahh — exhausted.” Meng Xin was barely through the door before she collapsed onto the sofa. “It’s true that going out is genuinely wonderful and genuinely miserable at the same time.”

“But if another chance came up, you’d still want to go,” Lin Tao said. She opened her suitcase and sat on the floor to sort through what was inside. “Do you want to shower first? We can sleep for a bit and then go out for dinner tonight.”

Meng Xin had no desire to move at all; she waved a limp hand. “You go first. I need to recover.”

“Alright.” Lin Tao pulled all the clothes from the suitcase and dumped them into the bathroom laundry basket, then settled in for a comfortable soak.

When she came out, she found Meng Xin sitting at the desk with her laptop open. She walked over and looked at the screen.

It was the group photo the seven of them had taken in Hai City — Hu Hanghang had posted it to his social media.

Seven people standing on the beach, the boundless ocean behind them, the setting sun declining over everything, its light blanketing the whole scene. The entire photograph was so tender it ached.

“Hahaha Tao-tao, look at this photo!” Meng Xin was asking Hu Hanghang in the group chat for the other pictures; Hu Hanghang sent one of the five boys wearing beach shirts and swim trunks, each holding a green coconut.

Jiang Yan stood in the middle, his dark fringe lifted by the sea breeze, his expression unhurried and languid. Even dressed in such a loud, patterned outfit, his features were as striking as ever.

The two of them sat there looking through photos for over ten minutes. Meng Xin got up to shower; Lin Tao toweled her hair dry, clicked through the photos one more time.

She reached for her phone from the desk and realized that over half an hour ago, Jiang Yan had sent her a WeChat message —

Here.

Lin Tao stared at those two characters for a few minutes. A smile came over her face without her noticing. She didn’t reply; she exited his chat and opened the group, then saved all the photos Hu Hanghang had shared.

The last photo was a picture of her and Jiang Yan together.

They had been sitting in the courtyard eating barbecue at the time. Around them were bamboo fences with green vines climbing all over them, lush and full. There was a swing in the yard; she sat on it while Jiang Yan leaned against the frame, head slightly bent, talking to her, his half-profile visible, his expression soft.

Both of them were smiling. It looked a little silly.

Lin Tao held her phone and stared at the photo for a long time; she didn’t even notice when Meng Xin came up and stood behind her. “I’m starting to think this is getting serious with you.”

The sudden voice startled her; her phone nearly slipped out of her hand.

Lin Tao picked it up off the floor, color rising in her cheeks. “When did you come out? I didn’t hear you at all.”

Meng Xin drew out a long sound of acknowledgment, amusement clear in her voice. “Just as you were making that lovestruck face at the photo.”

“……” Lin Tao didn’t want to get into it; she rooted out the hair dryer from below, and the whirring noise soon filled the room.

By the time both of them had finished getting ready and lay down on the bed, the sky outside had darkened. Lin Tao ordered delivery instead.

Meng Xin wasn’t particularly sleepy; she rolled over and lay on her stomach. “You really like your seatmate?”

“……”

Lin Tao said nothing, pulled the covers up over her head. Meng Xin refused to accept defeat; she reached through the blanket to tickle her. “Come on, Tao-tao — tell me why you like your seatmate. What’s the reason?”

Lin Tao couldn’t hold out against her assault; she dragged the covers down, and her pale, clean face emerged, long lashes lowered, fingers absently picking at her nails — but her eyes were smiling.

“I just like him. There doesn’t need to be a reason.”

Lin Tao had thought about this question before — but no matter how hard she’d racked her brain, she hadn’t been able to come up with any single answer to give.

Yet when she actually thought back, there were so many moments with Jiang Yan — any one of them could be a reason for why she liked him.

Maybe this was how liking someone worked — unreasonable and obstinate.

You couldn’t say what had caused it, and yet when you tried, there were a thousand reasons, none of them ever fully told.

Jiang Yan and Guan Che had returned to their internet café residence. By now they had both come to treat the place as home; apart from special circumstances, they mostly stayed there.

It was still a holiday, so the café was packed. Guan Che ran into a friend downstairs. Jiang Yan went straight up to the room on his own; he’d forgotten to close the window before leaving, and the breeze had knocked everything on his desk to the floor.

He walked over and picked things up one by one, tidied everything away, then burrowed into the sofa, turned on the TV, and took out his phone to send Lin Tao a WeChat message.

He waited ten minutes with no reply. He plugged his phone in to charge, gathered his clothes, went to shower; by the time he came out, his messages were at 99+.

He casually toweled his hair, unplugged the phone, and lay back on the bed to look. All group chat messages. He scrolled through — then spotted a photo buried under the flood.

The most recent one: a photo of him and Lin Tao together.

The girl was laughing at him, showing a little of her teeth.

Jiang Yan looked at it for a moment, his head bowing in a quiet smile. Before he exited the chat, he saved the photo. He tossed his phone onto the bed, stood up, changed his clothes, turned the TV off, and went downstairs.

Nine thirty. Jiang Yan had just eaten and was sitting behind the counter chatting with the newly hired front desk staff. He and Guan Che still had school to attend; they couldn’t be at the café every hour. They had been taking on staff recently.

The new desk worker was only sixteen, still underage, fresh out of a vocational secondary school — hadn’t learned much there, saw the vacancy here, and decided to give it a try.

He hadn’t lived in this area before and wasn’t familiar with what people said about Jiang Yan; chatting came more easily without that knowledge. Even so, he wasn’t much of a talker. Jiang Yan would ask a question, he’d give an answer; after a short while, Jiang Yan got up to go upstairs and get his phone charger.

Just then, the door outside swung open to admit two people.

The young front desk worker heard the sound, quickly stood, saw two girls walk in, looked briefly surprised, then said: “Good evening. Coming to use a computer?”

“Yes — can we get a private booth?” Lin Tao stepped forward and handed over her ID card.

The young worker took one look, calculated the year, and handed it back with perfectly solemn conviction: “I’m sorry — we don’t allow minors.”

“……” Lin Tao paused, exchanged a glance with Meng Xin, and laughed. “But we’ve come here before.”

The young worker was unswervingly principled. “That’s because the others were irresponsible.”

“……”

No matter what Lin Tao and Meng Xin said, the young worker wouldn’t budge. In the end, having no other option, Lin Tao messaged Jiang Yan on WeChat.

The reply arrived quickly, and moments later the person himself came walking down the stairs.

Lin Tao leaned against the counter and greeted him with a wave. “Good evening, Jiang classmate.”

Jiang Yan still had his charger in hand; he covered the last few steps in one stride, walked up to her, his presence looming in. He didn’t say much — just turned sideways, raised a hand, gave the marble surface of the counter a light rap, and said evenly: “Give me the key card.”

The young worker obediently handed it over.

As they were leaving, Lin Tao smiled and teased the young worker: “See? He’s the irresponsible one.”

The young worker: “……”

Same booth as before.

Jiang Yan turned on the light. Meng Xin went in first, bent down to boot up her machine — and then, out of nowhere, said: “Tao-tao, I’m thirsty — can you go downstairs and grab some water for me?”

Lin Tao was a little thirsty herself; she nodded. “Sure.”

She turned around, saw Jiang Yan still standing there, her palm went slightly damp — she suppressed the urge to wipe it, kept her voice even. “Going downstairs?”

Jiang Yan nodded. “Let’s go.”

Outside, the wind was picking up; it rattled against the windows.

Lin Tao stepped out and closed the door behind her. She couldn’t help wiping her palm against her hem. “Are you not taking a break tonight? Working the night shift?”

“Mm, nothing going on tomorrow.” Jiang Yan glanced down at her. “How come you two decided to come to an internet café tonight?”

“We were bored at home — and no school tomorrow anyway.” “You’re not tired after being out?”

“Not really.” After several days of rain in Hai City, they’d barely gone anywhere; they’d mostly stayed around the villa. “Are you tired?”

“Not particularly.” His tone was flat; impossible to read.

The two of them made their way downstairs. Guan Che had finished up with his friend and was standing in the lobby listening to the new worker giving a rundown. He looked up when he saw Lin Tao and smiled. “Good evening, little sis.”

He had gotten very comfortable with it by now — he called her “little sis” at every opportunity, morning to night.

Lin Tao exchanged a few words with him, then followed Jiang Yan to the small break room inside to get water. Guan Che watched the two of them walk away, and smiled to himself, meaningfully.

Beside him, the young worker leaned in: “Hey, didn’t Yan-ge say the café doesn’t allow underage customers? How come he made an exception for her?”

“Ah.” Guan Che’s peach-blossom eyes curved with amusement. “Just remember this: when that girl comes in again, bring out the same attitude you’d have for welcoming the boss’s wife. Yan-ge will thank you properly for it.”

“……”

Jiang Yan took two room-temperature bottles of mineral water for Lin Tao and handed them over when he asked: “Have you eaten tonight? Do you want any snacks?”

Lin Tao took the water. “No need — we already ate before coming.”

“Alright. Head on up then.”

Lin Tao nodded, took the water, and turned to go. Two steps later, she stopped and looked back, saw him still standing there, thought it over, and spoke up: “Back at the bar in Hai City — when I ran into you near the bathroom — you seemed like you weren’t very happy. Did something happen?”

She hadn’t asked when she was still confused about her own feelings. But things were different now — she liked him, and she simply wanted to know how he was doing.

Evidently he hadn’t expected her to still remember something like that. Jiang Yan took a couple of seconds to register what she meant, then leaned against the doorframe nearby, his lashes lowered, his voice gentle. “Nothing much. Just some family stuff.”

“Did you get it sorted out?”

“Mm.” He nodded. “It’s sorted.”

Lin Tao let out a quiet breath. A small sweetness rose in her chest. Her voice came out soft. “Jiang Yan.”

“Mm?”

She pressed her lips together lightly. “Try to smoke less from now on, okay? It’s not good for you.”

The wind howled outside. Jiang Yan looked up; his gaze settled on her face for a moment. Then a slow smile curved the corner of his mouth; the emotion in his eyes loosened, spreading into something warm.

He leaned against the doorframe, unhurried, his voice soft and lazy: “Alright. Whatever you say.”

Author’s note: — Bonus scene (not responsible for content):

After they’re together, Jiang Yan gives Lin Tao unconditional, unlimited indulgence.

Whatever Lin Tao does or says — he goes along with it. Not a shred of principle.

Years later, on countless sleepless nights.

Lin Tao has been reduced to utter exhaustion by a certain someone using methods that can only be described as inhumane; no matter whether she cried, made a scene, or begged for mercy, that person refused to stop.

She finally burst out: “Didn’t you say you’d do whatever I say?!”

Jiang Yan, thoroughly absorbed, pressed down and leaned in; his scorching fingers traced along her pale neck, his voice low and husky: “For this, you do what I say.”

Tao-mei: ……

I can’t believe……