Zhu Yun and Li Lan finally arrived at the Central Stadium at eight twenty. Zhu Yun immediately rushed to get them through the ticket gates — then felt a hand close around her wrist.

She turned around and saw Li Lan’s eyes were rimmed red, staring up at the enormous poster hanging outside the stadium.

“It’s them…” Li Lan said. “When I was little, my younger brother took me to see them perform. It was them.”

Zhu Yun was momentarily taken aback and glanced at the poster herself. She had heard of this group — they were a fairly well-known band — but Zhu Yun had never been particularly interested in music and never paid much attention to that world. Hearing what Li Lan said now, she did a quick calculation in her head and found herself genuinely impressed that the band had such a long run.

Once they cleared security, Zhu Yun gave Li Lan a shove forward.

“Hurry, hurry — we’re already late!”

The concert had already started. The entire venue was like an explosion — neon lights flashing, the air thick and electric. Zhu Yun held Li Lan’s hand in an iron grip, terrified of losing her in the crowd.

The tickets Li Xun had bought were in the front rows of Section A. They edged their way along the side and slipped into their seats. Someone had put a bag on Zhu Yun’s seat. She shouted over to the person, “Hey! This is my seat — could you move your bag!”

The person turned around and shouted back with a grin, “I know it’s yours!”

Zhu Yun got a fright.

“Ren Di?!”

Ren Di was wearing her signature cake makeup as usual. She turned sideways to show Zhu Yun the people beside her. Zhu Yun looked more carefully — wasn’t that Ren Di’s whole unreliable band?

The band members waved at her. “YO——!”

Zhu Yun shouted back, “YO——!”

She leaned in toward Ren Di. “What a coincidence!”

“Coincidence my ass!” Ren Di gave Zhu Yun a look like she was dealing with an idiot. “This is Li——mmph!”

The moment the words “what a coincidence” left Zhu Yun’s mouth, she instantly knew something was off. This row had definitely been reserved by Li Xun. Before Ren Di could say his name, Zhu Yun clapped a hand over her mouth.

“Shh!” She scrunched up her face and jerked her head backward.

Zhu Yun hadn’t sat down yet, and Li Lan didn’t dare sit either — she stood behind them, watching the two of them cautiously. Ren Di peered over Zhu Yun’s shoulder, immediately understood the situation, and gave Zhu Yun a knowing nod.

Zhu Yun turned back and pulled Li Lan into her seat. “It’s fine — she’s someone I know, we just happened to run into each other!”

The concert went on smoothly, and before long Li Lan was completely absorbed in the band’s performance.

Honestly, a band that had been popular for over ten years deserved its reputation — from the music itself, to the way they performed, to the way they commanded the entire stage, everything was masterful. The concert quickly built toward its peak, and everyone was on their feet, jumping wildly to the frenzied tracks, waving glow sticks and signs in the air.

The stage lights were dazzling and spectacular. The lead vocalist sang himself hoarse with abandon, setting everything ablaze.

Zhu Yun was swept up in the atmosphere too, jumping along with everyone else. She glanced over without thinking and caught Ren Di watching her with an amused smile. “What!” she shouted.

The corners of Ren Di’s mouth curved upward. She leaned in and yelled, “Watch yourself!”

Zhu Yun: “What?!”

Ren Di: “Don’t let that beast devour you whole!”

Their seats were near the front. The speakers were so powerful Zhu Yun could feel the vibrations rattling through her chest.

“I don’t want that either! What am I supposed to do about it!”

Ren Di looked at Zhu Yun asking so earnestly and sincerely, then threw an arm around her, tilted her head back, and burst out laughing.

As it turned out, by the time the concert ended, Ren Di still had not told her how to avoid being devoured by Li Xun.

It was Zhu Yun’s first concert — and a thunderously wild rock concert at that. The aftershock was too powerful. When the crowd dispersed and she walked out, she was trembling all over.

Ren Di looked at her with disdain. “You are something else.”

The songs were still ringing in Zhu Yun’s ears. She didn’t even have the energy to fire back. Dizzy and light-headed, she turned to Li Lan. “Come on, let me take you back.”

On the ride back, Li Lan thanked Zhu Yun for what felt like the two hundredth time. The concert had left Zhu Yun feeling slightly nauseous, and she very much wanted to tell her to be quiet — but in the end, all she said was, “Don’t mention it.”

Li Lan said, “I’m leaving soon. Getting to see a live performance… I never even imagined it…”

Zhu Yun’s hand stopped mid-press on her own temple.

“Leaving? When?”

Li Lan said, “There’s a train tonight.”

“…” Zhu Yun stared. “Why are you only telling me now? Will you make it in time?”

Li Lan lowered her head. “My younger brother bought the return ticket for me on my very first day here. He gave me money. He didn’t want me staying.” Her voice was very soft. “But I have time — I packed everything up already. I’ll just make it back.”

Just barely, of course — just barely… Zhu Yun let out a hollow laugh. Your younger brother really does lay out his plans with rock-solid precision.

Back at Taifu Hotel, Li Lan went upstairs to get her luggage. Zhu Yun offered to take her to the station, but Li Lan refused absolutely.

“There’s no need — you’ve already done so much for me.” Li Lan handed Zhu Yun a large bag. “This was something I brought for my younger brother. He didn’t want it. I don’t have any money to give you, so please keep it.” She gave Zhu Yun an apologetic smile. “You’re such a kind person. I was honestly a little scared of everyone around here at first…”

I can be pretty scary too, actually.

Zhu Yun didn’t refuse. She reached out and took it — and nearly had her wrist give out under the weight.

What on earth was in this thing?!

“Are you really sure you don’t need me to walk you to the station?”

Li Lan insisted. “Really, no.”

Zhu Yun herself was exhausted to the point of going limp. Inwardly, she said to Li Xun: This is not me not sending her off — she won’t let me.

Zhu Yun walked Li Lan to the bus and waved goodbye.

She checked the time — already eleven. The dormitory curfew had long since passed. Should she go to Ren Di’s studio?

Too far. She couldn’t walk that distance.

Zhu Yun thought it over and ultimately decided to spend the night at the base.

The bundle Li Lan had left her was far too heavy to carry properly. She gave up trying to hold it and simply dragged it along the ground. Even that made her arms ache before long. She sat down to rest on the edge of a flower bed. Idly, she opened the bag — and was immediately hit by a foul smell.

The stench made her head pound even worse.

She frowned, held her breath, and peered inside. Wrapped up within was a pile of freshwater clams and fish, along with water packs. The water packs had evidently been filled with ice at some point, but in the heat they had melted completely, and the river seafood had spoiled along with them.

Zhu Yun stared at the contents for a quiet moment, then placed the bundle in the trash bin by the canteen entrance. As she walked away, she glanced back at it twice. She felt unsettled.

Zhu Yun made her way to the academic building, and from a distance she could already see that the lights in the first-floor base were still on.

At this hour, it could only be Li Xun.

Zhu Yun didn’t go straight in. She stood at the doorway for a while, attempting to gather her thoughts — but her mind was completely blank.

Then suddenly, she heard a faint, familiar rasping sound behind her.

It was a sound she knew well. On the very first night after she had bought one herself, she had practiced it countless times.

Zhu Yun turned around. She saw a brief flicker of flame — then darkness. Li Xun was leaning against the wall of the corridor, taking a cigarette from between his lips.

“You’re back?”

There was a faint smile at the corner of his mouth.

Perhaps it was simply his habit, Zhu Yun thought. Except when he was fully concentrated on his computer screen working, he almost always had some trace of a smile on his face.

Even if not every smile necessarily meant he was happy.

Zhu Yun nodded.

Li Xun looked her up and down. “Our princess is looking quite disheveled.”

Zhu Yun: “…”

And whose fault is that?

She was just about to snap back at him when she suddenly remembered what Ren Di had said to her at the concert:

“Don’t let that beast devour you whole.”

Right.

Taking the bait and arguing with him was exactly what he wanted.

Zhu Yun resolved to ignore him. She turned and walked toward the door, mentally noting that she couldn’t shower tonight — absolutely miserable.

“Hey.”

Zhu Yun’s feet slowed. She waited to hear whatever brilliant opinion Li Xun was about to deliver. Either way, she had already decided: no matter how much he teased her tonight, she would not respond.

“Walk with me for a bit.”

“…”

Zhu Yun turned around. Li Xun had already turned and was walking away.

She hadn’t even agreed yet.

Zhu Yun watched his retreating figure, hesitating. When his silhouette was nearly about to disappear, she finally let out a long breath — and followed.

The summer night was hot and stifling.

Zhu Yun walked behind Li Xun. He was the same as always — solitary, unhurried, loose-limbed, yet somehow clean and put-together.

By comparison, Zhu Yun looked considerably worse for wear. She had been running around all day and was utterly exhausted. On top of that, all her back-and-forth dashing had left her clothes coated in dust and her back completely soaked through with sweat.

While Li Xun wasn’t looking, Zhu Yun quickly smoothed her hair down in secret.

They arrived at the sports field. On the overgrown grass, the football goalposts still stood rusted in place. Li Xun leaned back against his usual spot and said, “It’s cooler out here.”

The football pitch was open and exposed, and from the distance came the occasional rare gust of cool wind. The grass before them swayed gently.

Zhu Yun went to lean against the opposite goalpost.

The night was still and deep. Silence spread between them.

Zhu Yun’s mind began to wander again.

How far apart were they right now? A regulation football goal was 7.32 meters wide — but was this run-down school’s goal even regulation size…?

“Was the concert fun?” Li Xun asked mildly.

Zhu Yun’s train of thought was cut off. She turned to look at him. “You want the honest answer?”

Li Xun lifted his chin slightly — obviously yes.

“…It was fine at the start. Got a bit hard on the ears toward the end.”

Li Xun let out a soft laugh, as if something had come back to him. “Yeah — I remember thinking the same thing back then. Never understood why they were all so into it.”

Maybe it was the summer night — something in his voice had taken on a loose, soft warmth.

Zhu Yun watched his smile and looked away before he could turn his head.

Without quite knowing how, the atmosphere had become considerably more relaxed. Zhu Yun plopped herself down on the grass and complained, “I’m dead tired.”

Li Xun: “You should get more exercise.”

“…” Zhu Yun shot him a withering look. “I’m perfectly healthy.”

“Really. Come arm wrestle then.”

Zhu Yun was baffled. “Have you no shame? I’m a girl.”

“I’ll let you use both hands.”

“You’re unbelievable!”

“Or should I use just one finger?” Li Xun flashed his signature smile. “You pick which one.”

Zhu Yun’s brain short-circuited.

A perfectly good weekend, and she had run herself ragged all day until she didn’t even have a place to sleep — all because of who, exactly.

And he was smiling.

Challenging her to an arm wrestle with one finger?

Zhu Yun stood up, pointed at him, and repeated Professor Lin’s classic line:

“Li Xun, don’t you get too cocky.”

Li Xun leaned against the goalpost, smiling with complete ease. “You in?”

“Let’s go!” Zhu Yun told herself this was absolutely not a moment of reckless impulse. She knew Li Xun’s build well enough — he wasn’t the thick-muscled gym-body type. One finger, and there was no way she could lose.

With that firmly established in her mind, Zhu Yun’s blood was pumping, and she started scheming.

She was always at a disadvantage around him. That needed to change.

First — put them on equal physical footing.

“Here’s what we’ll do,” she said to Li Xun. “We make a bet. If you lose, you run ten laps around the track right now.” That way, his sweat output should be a match for hers.

“Sure.” Li Xun agreed without a moment’s hesitation. “And if you lose?”

Zhu Yun: “I’m not going to lose.”

Li Xun smiled. “All right.”

They moved to the edge of the bleachers and used a raised step as their surface for the arm wrestle.

Li Xun asked, “Which finger should I use?”

Was that even a question? Zhu Yun: “The pinky, obviously!”

Li Xun: “No mercy whatsoever.”

Zhu Yun waved her hand. “There’s no mercy between us.”

Today I will make you truly understand the meaning of bringing ruin upon yourself.

Li Xun extended his right hand, elbow braced for support, four fingers curled inward — only his little finger left extended.

Something stirred in Zhu Yun’s chest. Like that, it looked almost like a pinky promise…

Li Xun always looked like someone who had already won. Zhu Yun didn’t dare let her guard down — what if this person was genuinely freakishly gifted, with a finger of gold or something…

She wrapped her right hand around his little finger, placed her left hand over her right, leaned her body slightly to the side, and braced herself to exert force at any moment.

“Ready?” Li Xun asked.

Zhu Yun was a little nervous. “…Ready.”

“Do you call start, or do I?”

“Me,” Zhu Yun said, seizing control of the initiative as much as possible. She took a deep breath. “Three — two — one — go!”

The moment the words left her mouth, both of them pushed with full force. Zhu Yun could clearly feel Li Xun’s arm go rigid in an instant. Even though he wasn’t the gym-built type, a man was still a man — Li Xun’s strength was considerably greater than she had anticipated.

But still…

He was only using one finger — and the pinky at that. There was no way he could channel his full strength through that. Zhu Yun gripped the finger and slowly, steadily bent it downward.

Victory was within sight.

That’ll teach you to show off.

But the moment Zhu Yun allowed herself to feel pleased, she quickly realized something was wrong.

After that initial burst of exertion from both sides, they entered a prolonged standoff. It was then that Zhu Yun noticed she had already bent Li Xun’s finger back at quite a sharp angle. She could feel clearly that the finger beneath her palm was constantly pushing back, but making very little progress.

She could surge again at any moment and press it down entirely — but that would almost certainly mean wrenching his finger.

Yet if they stayed locked like this, it would end up hurting him just the same.

She glanced at Li Xun. His expression was perfectly unchanged. When he caught her looking, he smiled faintly and said with great deliberateness, “Why’d you stop pushing?”

“…”

At this critical juncture, of all things, Zhu Yun’s mind suddenly conjured up an old story from ancient times.

Two women both claimed to be the mother of the same child. The magistrate had them each take hold of one of the child’s arms and told them whoever pulled the child to her side could keep him. Halfway through the contest, one woman let go first. Yet the magistrate awarded the child to her — because, he reasoned, a birth mother could never bear to cause her child that kind of pain.

Zhu Yun gripped that little finger tightly, thinking: this finger belongs to one of the two of us — how is it that you don’t feel any pain at all?

A few more seconds passed.

Then, all at once, Zhu Yun felt the finger in her palm give a single tremor.

Hurt?

Her mind jolted. Without thinking, she immediately let go.

Li Xun said nothing. He drew his hand back and tucked it into his pocket, then remarked with languid satisfaction, “Didn’t you say there was no mercy between us?”

Go ahead and gloat after getting what you wanted.

Zhu Yun turned and started walking back. Li Xun called after her again. “No prize for the winner? I haven’t even named my terms yet.”

“…”

On one hand, Zhu Yun was completely drained of all energy. On the other, she was seething with fury. The two forces collided inside her, burning through her until her mind went fuzzy. She slowly turned her head back, a smile plastered across her face. “Go ahead then.”

He was still leaning where he had been, head tilted to one side, the night air tracing the long, clean lines of his silhouette.

He was smiling too.

“Princess — give me Wu Mengxing’s spot.”