Qian Chuan had a silver tongue, and whatever he’d said had Mo Zixin laughing nonstop. Lu Xun, however, hadn’t taken a single word of Qian Wei’s advice to heart, continuing to eat with detached elegance, entirely absorbed in his own world.

Qian Wei genuinely felt exasperated at how hopeless he was. She decided to bring out the big guns. “Oh, Lu Xun, Mo Zixin, I just remembered Qian Chuan and I have somewhere to be. We’ve pretty much finished eating anyway, so we’ll head out first.” With that, she shot Qian Chuan a pointed look.

But Qian Chuan completely ignored her. “If you’ve got somewhere to be, go ahead. I’ve got nothing else going on.”

“I just got my heart broken—won’t you keep me company?” Qian Wei widened her eyes. “What if I can’t take it and jump off a bridge or slit my wrists? How would you explain that to Mom and Dad? Could you live with yourself?”

Qian Chuan rolled his eyes. “Given the amount you just ate, you don’t look like someone who’s about to do something drastic. Do you know how many pork meatballs you had just now? Twelve! Your eyes lit up the second you saw them—you’re going to kill yourself?” He turned to Mo Zixin and Lu Xun. “Don’t worry about Qian Wei, you two. Even with one foot in the grave, she’d drag herself up to eat something, especially pork. As long as pigs haven’t gone extinct, she’s not dying.”

“That was grief-eating from extreme emotional pain!”

“Well, if you do kill yourself, that works out great for me—the family estate would’ve been split two ways, now it’ll all be mine.” Qian Chuan waved a hand. “Qian Wei, go on then, I’ve got to stay and pay the bill anyway.”

That comment got another laugh out of Mo Zixin. “You two really do have a great relationship.”

Inwardly, Qian Wei was screaming. Where exactly is this “great relationship” you’re seeing?!

Qian Chuan flashed her a cheeky grin. “Weren’t you leaving? Then hurry up and go, don’t let me hold up your important business.”

Qian Wei’s main goal had been to get Qian Chuan to leave with her, and now she’d shot herself in the foot with her own scheme, caught in a bind of her own making. She cast one reluctant glance at the fish and meat slices boiling away in the hotpot broth and gritted her teeth. “Fine, I’m off, then!”

“I should get going too.” Just as Qian Wei stood up, Lu Xun’s clear, cool voice rang out. “You two enjoy the rest of your meal.”

Qian Chuan grinned so wide he could barely close his mouth. “Lu Xun, take care on your way, all right? Let’s grab a proper meal together sometime, have a good long talk—I’m claiming you as a buddy for real now. And hey, do me a favor and look after Qian Wei, walk her back to campus while you’re at it! With you around, I can rest easy!”

Qian Wei looked at Qian Chuan, feeling a bit of despair. This shameless streak was clearly a shared family trait between them…

Lu Xun did indeed glance at Qian Chuan with interest, then at Qian Wei, saying nothing—but his eyes said it all.

Qian Wei still tried to salvage the situation. There was no way she could let Qian Chuan and Mo Zixin be alone together! Absolutely not!

“Lu Xun, I’ll be fine, I can walk back to campus on my own. Why don’t you stay and eat with Qian Chuan and Mo Zixin.”

Lu Xun glanced at her, his voice lazy. “But I wasn’t planning to walk you back to campus. I’ve got somewhere else to be.”

“…” Qian Wei was screaming internally. Lu Xun, even if you’re not interested in me, would it kill you to fake being a gentleman in front of Mo Zixin? Did you have to wear such an obvious “you’re overthinking this” expression on your face?

Though Qian Wei tried her hardest to stop things from heading in the worst possible direction, reality was cruel—by the time she came back to her senses, she was already walking away with Lu Xun, and Qian Chuan had successfully secured his solo dinner with Mo Zixin after all.

Qian Wei felt utterly heartbroken. “Lu Xun, I gave you so many chances to show off, and you didn’t take advantage of a single one. Sure, plenty of girls these days like this cold, aloof type you’ve got going on, but you should know—people don’t actually want you to stay cold once you’re their boyfriend. They want you to be cold to everyone else, and warm only toward them. The whole world could feel ordinary, and only they get to feel special. That’s the feeling people want.”

“So this is the type you like?” Lu Xun glanced sideways at her.

“Oh, me? Cold and aloof, loyal-dog type, rugged manly type, fresh young pretty-boy type, warm-hearted people-pleaser type, domineering CEO type—I can accept them all.”

Lu Xun was visibly thrown off by her answer. He paused before asking, “Do you have some kind of collecting habit?”

“I just have broad tastes.”

“So what type was your ex, then?”

Qian Wei shot him a look. “Can you not focus on such irrelevant details?”

Lu Xun’s mouth quirked. “I just find it interesting that a girl who just got her heart broken seems awfully lively about it—no sign of pain at all. I’m a little worried this is you overcompensating for some deeper repressed distress after too much emotional shock. Please don’t do anything drastic and drag me into it too.”

Qian Wei snapped irritably, “I’m perfectly fine! Lu Xun, honestly, why can’t you understand my good intentions here? I never actually got my heart broken! That whole heartbreak thing was something I made up to fool Qian Chuan! Mo Zixin was supposed to be at the singing competition in the auditorium tonight, and Qian Chuan was going to go too—I lied about being heartbroken to drag him out shopping instead, just to keep the two of them from meeting. How was I supposed to know Mo Zixin wouldn’t show up at the competition either, and would end up eating here of all places!”

Hearing that Qian Wei hadn’t actually been heartbroken, and apparently relieved he wouldn’t be dragged into any fallout from it, Lu Xun’s expression relaxed—but a moment later, his face took on a mocking edge. “You’d already predicted Qian Chuan would fall for Mo Zixin before he’d even met her for the first time today? Quite the fortune teller. No wonder you were so sure I’d go after Mo Zixin too—do you have some kind of delusional disorder?”

Qian Wei stuck her neck out defensively. “I just know things! I have a bit of a knack for prediction, you saw it that day yourself—I predicted several of the essay questions on the Chinese Legal History exam ahead of time.”

Lu Xun let out a cold laugh. “I have a bit of a knack for prediction too.”

Qian Wei wasn’t convinced. “Oh yeah? What can you predict?”

“There’s going to be a heavy downpour.”

Qian Wei looked up at the sky—it was overcast, sure, but there was no sign of rain.

They hadn’t gone more than a few steps before, sure enough, the wind picked up violently and fat raindrops came pelting down.

Qian Wei was utterly dumbfounded. “You… how could you predict that? Are you telling me your great grades are actually because you can predict exam questions too?”

“Of course not.”

“Then—could it be you’re some kind of legendary bad-luck talker? Bad predictions come true but good ones don’t?”

Lu Xun said, deadpan, “The weather bureau issued a citywide yellow alert for heavy rain ten minutes ago. You should pay more attention to weather forecasts and less to superstitious nonsense.”

“…”

The weather warning turned out to be remarkably accurate—the rain quickly built into a genuine downpour. By then, Qian Wei and Lu Xun had reached a small side street, and after running for about ten minutes, they finally found a secluded little café they could duck into for shelter. Qian Wei didn’t care about anything else at that point and rushed in right behind Lu Xun.

Once inside, Qian Wei realized it was a cat-themed café—small, but with cats lazing about everywhere, on the sofas and the floor. Clearly well used to people, the cats weren’t the least bit shy, meowing and padding right up to Qian Wei and Lu Xun. One particularly friendly ragdoll cat jumped straight onto the table in front of Lu Xun.

Qian Wei quickly scooped the ragdoll away from him. But for some reason, Lu Xun seemed to have some kind of pull on cats too, because before she’d even set the ragdoll down, a British Shorthair was already eyeing him eagerly. Qian Wei ended up holding the ragdoll in one arm and scooping up the shorthair with the other.

“Lu Xun, stay away from me!”

Lu Xun frowned. “What exactly are you doing?”

Holding a cat in each arm with a look of grim determination, Qian Wei kept up her air of mystery. “Remember I told you I have a knack for prediction?”

“So?”

“I can tell you that you’re allergic to cat fur. Bet you didn’t know that before, did you?” Qian Wei put on her best air of eerie prophecy. “I’d suggest you steer clear, or you might swell up like a pig’s head and ruin your looks completely.”

Lu Xun merely gave a faintly mocking laugh in response. “You don’t need to predict anything—I’ve known I’m allergic to cat fur since I was five. It’s not exactly a secret; you could’ve just asked anyone in my dorm.” As he spoke, he pulled a small case out of his pocket, took out a small white pill, and popped it into his mouth. “That’s why I always carry antihistamines.”

Once he’d swallowed the pill, Lu Xun walked over to Qian Wei with perfect composure, took the two cats from her arms, and carried them off to a sofa by the window to settle in.

Qian Wei watched his retreating figure, completely stunned.

What? He’d known he was allergic to cats since he was five? And he always carried allergy medication on him? But in her past life, Qian Wei remembered clearly that Lu Xun had first discovered his cat allergy after starting work—a client had brought their cat along to a consultation, and by the end of the meeting, his whole face had swollen up. She was absolutely certain she hadn’t remembered wrong, because in the end it was Lu Xun who’d forced Qian Wei to take care of him for an entire night until his face returned to its factory-default handsome state.

So where had things gone wrong???

“Would you two like anything?”

“A mocha,” said Lu Xun, glancing at Qian Wei, “and a hot chocolate.”

Once the steaming hot chocolate arrived, Qian Wei quickly gave up trying to make sense of things. She sipped her drink while shaking out her rain-soaked clothes, which were sticking uncomfortably to her body. The rain outside showed no sign of letting up any time soon, so she turned to look across at Lu Xun. “Why don’t we chat? Bond over some revolutionary friendship?”

Lu Xun let go of the two cats on his lap and glanced at her, seeming as though he was about to say something—but the moment his eyes met hers, he abruptly turned his head away, the motion so sudden it bordered on rude, shattering his usual refined, elegant composure.

“There’s nothing for us to talk about.”

“…” Was there any need to be that cold about it?

Lu Xun kept his head turned fully away, offering Qian Wei nothing but a view of his profile. His striking, almost sharp eyes gazed out the window, thick lashes curling with a feather-like delicacy, his skin pale and smooth, the line of his profile beautiful and clean. Sitting there by the window, if the world outside were a busy road, Lu Xun alone, just sitting like that, would probably have been enough to draw in customers to the café.

Qian Wei stared at his face for a moment before turning to look out the window herself. The rain kept falling; she zoned out, and Lu Xun continued to ignore her—though every so often, she could sense his gaze flick toward her, only for it to dart away again the instant she turned to look back.

Under the café’s warm, dim lighting, Qian Wei’s wandering attention eventually returned once more to Lu Xun—and this time, she noticed something off about him.

“Lu Xun, your face is so red! Don’t tell me you caught a chill and got a fever from the rain?” Qian Wei pointed at his cheeks. The moment she said it, Lu Xun’s ears seemed to redden as well.

But faced with Qian Wei’s concern, Lu Xun’s reaction turned oddly hostile. He shot her one glance, then immediately looked away as though he’d seen something he shouldn’t have, his composure slipping into something almost like panic.