The cold white light from the ceiling poured down in a broad wash, draping itself over the young man like a spotlight of pure favoritism.

No matter the moment, he was dazzling enough to make one’s heart tremble.

Zhu Yunque felt as though she were standing inside a dream.

Only when a passerby said “excuse me, could you move?” did she snap back to herself, yanking her hand away as though from an electric shock.

She stepped back.

Lu Rangchen lowered his gaze, lashes sweeping down, and leaned his elbow against the shelf to make way for the pedestrian.

The distance between the two of them opened back up.

Zhu Yunque’s heartbeat was like a drumbeat pounding against her ribs. A flicker of panic passed through her eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Eating nearby.”

Lu Rangchen answered casually, his tone not without a hint of probing. “And you? Out alone buying alcohol at this hour?”

The word “alcohol” pricked Zhu Yunque like a needle.

A sudden, crushing mortification rose from somewhere deep inside — as though the worst version of herself had been caught in the act by Lu Rangchen.

She couldn’t help lying. “No — I thought it was a soft drink.”

The Heineken was, after all, right beside two rows of canned beverages.

But Lu Rangchen didn’t seem especially convinced. He raised an eyebrow, his gaze drifting back to her with an expression that said rather a lot.

Zhu Yunque’s conscience gave an awkward twitch. Acting on impulse, she grabbed two cans of Wang Zai milk from the shelf next to her.

She was just reaching for other snacks when —

Lu Rangchen spoke abruptly. “Done crying?”

That habitually cool male voice of his, carrying a carelessly teasing sort of concern — it wasn’t the kind of thing one would expect to pass between the two of them.

Zhu Yunque almost lost her grip on those two cans.

She looked at Lu Rangchen with undisguised surprise. She wanted to say no.

But red, swollen eyes do not lie.

Helplessness, grievance, sorrow, heartache — all of it tangled together and surfaced in those clear, stubborn eyes of hers. Lu Rangchen’s brow furrowed slightly. Something in his chest felt as though it had been stung.

And yet he didn’t know that buried in the gaze she turned on him lay a silent, surging tide of feeling she would never say aloud.

Afraid he might notice.

Zhu Yunque quickly pulled her eyes away, sniffled, and said, “Thank you. I’m fine now.”

With that, she stepped forward, intending to take her things to the register and leave.

Lu Rangchen, however, stood immovably in her path.

The distance between them collapsed. Close enough that his presence was everywhere around her — like poppy flowers, intoxicating and ambiguous in this narrow corner of the world.

Zhu Yunque’s heart went still. She tilted her head up.

He was too tall.

Only like this could she meet his gaze.

Lu Rangchen said nothing. Those clear, refined features of his wore an effortless, languid authority — noble and arresting.

Her thoughts flitted like fireflies in the night. Zhu Yunque’s throat caught. “Whatever you want to buy, let me get it,” she said. “I’ll treat you.”

After all, Lu Rangchen had treated her last time — and she still owed him a hundred yuan she hadn’t returned.

Lu Rangchen only watched her, his gaze cool and level and unreadable.

That look chilled her.

Zhu Yunque asked in a small voice, “…What is it.”

Lu Rangchen gave an inscrutable little laugh, his broad shoulders lifting slightly. “Nothing.”

He simply found her powers of emotional recovery rather impressive.

She’d been crying herself half to death crossing the road — like some figure out of ancient legend weeping at the Great Wall — and now here she was, standing in front of him as though nothing had happened at all.

Fine then. He’d call it wishful thinking on his part.

Lu Rangchen shifted his gaze, sweeping it across the shelf, and said in a low, unhurried tone, “Just came to grab something to drink.”

Without waiting for Zhu Yunque to react, he reached up and took the very can of Heineken she had touched moments ago, tossing it lightly in his broad palm.

Zhu Yunque watched it happen.

A little flame inside her jumped twice — then quietly went out.

She abruptly felt rather unwell.

— He hadn’t come over to stop her at all. He simply happened to want to buy something too.

That answer wrapped itself around her thoughts, and Zhu Yunque’s mortification deepened.

But a contrary impulse rose up in its place.

Why couldn’t she drink alcohol when he apparently could?

Because he was of legal age?

Defiance stirred beneath her skin. Zhu Yunque pressed her lips together and, right under the young man’s nose, reached out and took her own can of Heineken.

Lu Rangchen: “…”

Lu Rangchen planted a hand on his hip and let out a low hiss through his teeth.

Zhu Yunque pressed her lips into a firm line, squared herself up, then sidestepped around Lu Rangchen and headed for the register.

A faint, clean scent of gardenia drifted past his nose. Lu Rangchen’s gaze followed her involuntarily for a few seconds.

He had never encountered a girl quite like this one.

Both obedient and stubborn at once.

The sort you’d want to handle with careful, tender hands.

He touched his nose. Lu Rangchen snorted a sudden laugh — seemingly at his own strange behaviour tonight.

But no matter how exasperated he was with himself, his nature was what it was, and he was never going to be soft about it.

The moment the two of them queued at the register, Lu Rangchen used his height to his advantage and plucked the can of beer clean out of her hand.

As he moved, the warm scent of dark agarwood drifted softly through the air, making one’s heart skip.

“…”

Zhu Yunque’s lips parted wordlessly.

Lu Rangchen glanced at her sidelong with a look of unbridled amusement, arching his brow with that devil-may-care ease. “Thanks.”

The corner of Zhu Yunque’s mouth twitched.

How could someone be this insufferably high-handed.

But there was no point trying to get it back now — the queue had already moved up to her position.

Zhu Yunque stepped forward. After a brief hesitation, she turned her head toward Lu Rangchen. “Let me pay for yours too — I said I’d treat you.”

Lu Rangchen didn’t refuse. He gave a single nod. “Sure.”

With that, he tucked his hands into his pockets and waited quietly beside her, effortlessly drawing the attention of every young woman nearby.

He, of course, couldn’t be bothered to notice any of them. Head tilted down, expression perfectly neutral, he scrolled through his phone.

The scene reminded Zhu Yunque of that time at the school convenience store — when he had treated her, and everyone around him had fawned and circled like courtiers, while he stood there with that through-and-through bad-boy indifference, not a ripple on the surface.

Back then, Zhu Yunque had never dared imagine that one day she would be standing beside Lu Rangchen, paying his bill.

That simply by turning slightly, the sleeve of her clothing might graze the fabric of his shirt.

Only — none of that mattered anymore. Not for who she was now.

Zhu Yunque quietly lowered her eyes and pulled a hundred-yuan note from her pocket to pay.

She assumed they would go their separate ways at the door.

But then Lu Rangchen suddenly received a phone call. He answered it with a few perfunctory replies, and then, without warning, he reached out and touched her — specifically, he flicked the back of her head lightly with his fingers.

The kind of fond, teasing gesture only close friends allow themselves.

The thought surfaced before she could stop it. Zhu Yunque’s spine went rigid. She froze at the convenience store entrance, turned to look at him.

Her dark, dewy almond-shaped eyes were wide with surprise and something that looked almost like shyness — like a fawn that had lost its way in the forest.

Lu Rangchen looked down at her, and something unexpected caught in his throat.

He swallowed quietly. “My friend wants to know if you’d like to join us for barbecue.”

Zhu Yunque blinked, visibly caught off guard.

After a couple of seconds, she asked slowly, “Your friend?”

Lu Rangchen tilted his chin, gesturing with it in a particular direction. “The barbecue place diagonally across from the convenience store — outdoor seating, first table.”

Zhu Yunque’s gaze drifted vaguely in that direction.

“There’s a girl there too,” Lu Rangchen added.

What he actually meant was that he didn’t want her wandering alone at this hour, and suspected she might feel awkward around strangers — so he mentioned the other girl to put her at ease.

What he didn’t expect was that the moment Zhu Yunque heard there was a girl, her expression shifted entirely.

First surprise. Then something flustered. Then outright discomfort.

Sure enough, she shook her head in refusal — with an energy that suggested genuine alarm. “No, thank you.”

Goodwill, met with a wall.

Lu Rangchen: “…”

He had never been turned down quite so bluntly, so disdainfully, before. The young man creased his brow, pressed his tongue against the back of his teeth, and exhaled a short, tight laugh.

The pressure of it was intense enough that Zhu Yunque’s shoulders and neck went taut.

She was trying to figure out whether to say something when Lu Rangchen’s tall frame leaned deliberately toward her, his narrow, dark eyes fixing on her directly.

The distance between them collapsed without warning.

Zhu Yunque’s heart nearly jumped out of her throat.

Lu Rangchen studied her. Clearly a little displeased, he tugged one corner of his mouth. “What — am I going to eat you?”

His tone carried the competitive edge that belonged to someone his age, with just a trace of something playful beneath it — and the moment he finished speaking, the girl’s face went red.

Still, Lu Rangchen kept staring at her, eyes fixed, as though determined to press an answer out of her expression alone.

Zhu Yunque had no choice but to steel herself. “I’m sorry. I already made plans tonight.”

Lu Rangchen gave a short sound. “Plans to drink?”

Zhu Yunque: “…”

Her mind went completely blank.

Before she could offer any further explanation, Lu Rangchen had already lost interest in teasing.

The young man smoothed the expression from the corners of his mouth and tossed out a parting line: “Just say you don’t want to go. No need for excuses.”

“…”

“I’m leaving.”

With that, the warm scent of dark agarwood faded, thinning into nothing and dispersing into the night air.

Zhu Yunque stood where she was, expression drained of all feeling, watching that long-legged, windswept silhouette recede into the darkness. Even after he had fully disappeared into the night, the turbulence in her chest had not settled.

And then, right at that moment —

Her phone rang.

Zhu Yunque startled — enough that her fingertips trembled. Her awareness came rushing back.

She looked down at her still-swollen eyes, and saw the name on the screen: Lin Lang.

She answered. Lin Lang’s voice came through full of concern. “Good lord, Zhu Yunque, I finally got you — do you have any idea how worried everyone at home is? Where are you? I just left Yanliuxiang and I’m coming to find you.”

Her eyelashes fluttered.

Zhu Yunque felt like her soul had floated some distance from her body. She stood there staring at the barbecue restaurant across the street.

Lin Lang grew impatient. “Say something — I’m coming to get you.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the young man settled into his seat, and the short-haired girl beside him smiled up at him, bright and vivid with an energy that was impossible to miss.

So that was the type he liked.

The type she could never become.

Some quietly flowering fantasy she hadn’t even known she was nursing collapsed in an instant.

Zhu Yunque snapped back to herself, embarrassed.

She dropped her eyes. Something stung at the back of her nose. “I’m by the 7-Eleven on Donggu Street.”

Night thickened around the city. Not yet nine o’clock, and the foot traffic along Donggu Street was picking up steadily.

The smell of warmth and life drifted from every direction.

Even the outdoor seats at the barbecue restaurant were full — which meant that even after Lu Rangchen had returned, Zhou Jin was still nagging the waiter about the grilled kidneys she’d ordered ages ago.

Done complaining about the service, Zhou Jin propped her chin in her hand and gave Lu Rangchen a curious look, blinking. “Where’s your classmate? Didn’t you say you were bringing someone? How come she’s not here?”

Lu Rangchen was leaning back in his chair with a cold expression, arms at his sides, staring at the two cans of Heineken on the table. He answered without answering. “Where’s Li Tie?”

For some reason, Zhou Jin had the feeling his mood was running a little low.

She had a personal policy about moments like these — she didn’t poke the bear. So she said, “Li Tie went outside to take a call.”

Lu Rangchen made a sound.

He glanced up and caught Zhou Jin staring at him.

Lu Rangchen gave a thin smile. “Something on my face?”

“Nothing like that,” said Zhou Jin, affecting the posture of someone who had front-row seats to an entertaining spectacle. “Just — you look a bit frustrated.”

Lu Rangchen: “…”

Lu Rangchen gave her a flat look. With one hand, he cracked open his can of beer. The foam surged up onto his hand; he shook his long, elegant fingers to clear it.

He glanced down and snorted quietly. “Mind your own business.”

Li Tie came back from his phone call, wincing dramatically. “Who are we calling sick, then?”

He grinned at Zhou Jin. “You?”

Zhou Jin rolled her eyes and kicked him under the table. “Are you deaf? He said ‘mind your own business.'”

Li Tie made a sound of mild offence, turned to look at Lu Rangchen, and — apparently sensing some kind of atmosphere — proceeded, with total obliviousness, to say, “Hey, didn’t you say you were bringing a girl? Where’d she go?”

That would be the equivalent of ripping open the one wound you shouldn’t touch.

Lu Rangchen was wiping his hands. His brow knitted. He looked at Li Tie with a perfectly blank face.

He was just about to tell him to get lost.

Then Zhou Jin, looking out at the street, suddenly called out, “Oh — Lu Rangchen. That girl of yours is not exactly being loyal, is she.”

Lu Rangchen’s temple jumped. Without thinking, he turned to look in the direction she was pointing.

And there she was — that slight, delicate silhouette standing in front of the 7-Eleven, beside a tall young man.

The night breeze lifted the loose hair around her ears, making that refined little oval face of hers look even more gentle and obedient.

They were standing very close.

After only a few words, the young man reached out and grabbed her by the wrist.

Zhu Yunque didn’t pull away.

“…”

Lu Rangchen narrowed his long eyes in silence.

Li Tie, beside him, grinned with gleeful unhelpfulness. “Oh, I see — she ran off with someone else, did she.”