◎Unfamiliarity and Understanding◎

Not expecting him to stop, Chun Zao froze in place.

Seeing the girl behind him not moving, Yuan Ye swung his long leg over and got off the bike.

He turned sideways, supporting the handlebars, making his intention to wait clear.

There was no wind in the small alley. Moths desperately crashed against the street lamp, creating a not-so-light rustling sound.

This commotion also awakened Chun Zao, and she quickly ran forward.

Just as she was about to politely greet him as before, the boy skipped the opening pleasantries and strangely asked: “Why are you still outside?”

Chun Zao heard the subtext in his words—at this time, students should be obediently staying at home, especially ones like her.

He probably didn’t mean it, but this somewhat elder-like question touched her sore spot, and also made her feel sorry for her friend who had waited most of the day in vain.

Chun Zao asked back with some emotion: “Aren’t you also still outside?”

Yuan Ye laughed upon hearing this.

A toothy smile, just like his ID photo that was permanently displayed on the honor wall—his properly grown upper teeth blindingly white.

His eyelids slightly drooped, seeming somewhat embarrassed. When he looked up again, he admitted: “Yes, that’s true.”

The boy’s frankness immediately deflated Chun Zao’s anger, and she lowered her voice to mutter: “Going back now.”

The two walked side by side, passing through that dreamlike rose cascade.

Chun Zao walked on the inner side, eyes straight ahead; Yuan Ye was on the outer side, pushing his bike with one hand.

Concerned about her friend’s disappointment, Chun Zao couldn’t help but want to clarify: “Did you go home during the day?”

Yuan Ye looked at her: “No, I went to an internet cafe.”

Chun Zao was surprised and shifted her gaze over. After briefly meeting his eyes for a second, she looked straight ahead again without comment.

Yuan Ye noticed the girl’s reaction: “What’s wrong?”

Chun Zao looked down at the potholes on the stone bricks beneath her feet: “Nothing, I just didn’t expect you’d also go to internet cafes.”

Yuan Ye’s tone was flat: “Nothing to do on weekends.”

“…” Chun Zao choked up. Were they living through the same weekend, or did Class 1 teachers not assign homework?

But it would seem impolite to cut off the conversation here, so she racked her brains: “Was it the internet cafe near Chengkang Gate Small Commodities Market?”

“You know it?”

Chun Zao paused, then calmly replied: “Just heard the boys in our class mention it.”

Yuan Ye didn’t ask further.

Conversations falling into a deadlock seemed to be a conditioned reflex between them. Chun Zao was already used to this automatic immunity and stopped forcing herself to find topics.

After accompanying Yuan Ye to lock his bike under the awning, she took out her keys from her pants pocket, opened the unit door first, and stepped aside to let Yuan Ye go in first.

The boy went upstairs ahead of her.

The stairwell lights required voice activation, so at each floor, the two would occasionally cough or step more heavily. After reaching the third floor, Yuan Ye walked ahead, so he opened the door to the rental apartment.

Very unfamiliar, yet also very much in sync, surrounded by an indescribable strangeness.

The living space was limited, and the entryway was also very cramped. Changing shoes together would be crowded. Yuan Ye temporarily stopped by the door, not following in.

While taking off her canvas shoes, Chun Zao glanced up at him. The boy was casually leaning against the door panel, looking down at his phone. His eyelashes covered his eyes like a dark canopy. It seemed that no matter what person or situation he faced, he displayed a rare courtesy and patience among his peers.

She quickened her pace, changing shoes, making room.

Only then did the boy walk over.

After standing up, he was slightly surprised by Chun Zao, who remained in the living room. The girl stood silently by the dining table, expressionless, as if she had been watching him for a while.

Her right hand held an unopened milk tea cup, with the thick straw in the same hand, clamped between her index and middle fingers.

The girl walked straight over and extended her hand: “For you.”

The passive person suddenly taking initiative was somewhat strange. Yuan Ye glanced at what she held but didn’t immediately take it.

Chun Zao explained: “My friend came this afternoon. This is what she bought.”

Yuan Ye took it.

“There’s also a straw,” she said, flipping the straw with pen-twirling dexterity and handing it out: “Here.”

He continued to take it.

Then he raised his phone to glance at it, his tone skeptical: “Drink it now?”

Chun Zao looked at her watch—it was already nine-thirty. Drinking milk tea at this time would likely cause insomnia, but—

She didn’t want to force others, nor could she bear to see her friend’s money and effort go to waste, especially since she had confidently accepted the commission before parting. So she said awkwardly: “Mainly you weren’t here this afternoon, and tomorrow it probably won’t be drinkable…”

She left it at that.

The boy said no more, punctured the plastic seal in front of her, and took a sip.

“Thank you.”

“Thank you.”

The second after his Adam’s apple moved slightly as he swallowed, they both said thank you simultaneously.

Yuan Ye let out a low laugh, a very light nasal sound that dropped down and bounced off her forehead, seeming meaningful.

Chun Zao’s scalp immediately tingled.

She uncomfortably pressed her lips together: “I’m going back to my room.”

Yuan Ye: “Okay.”

…

Chun Zao left in three steps that became two. As soon as she entered the bedroom, she sat at the desk, buried her head in her hands, and silently screamed: Help me—if Tong Yue had been there, it definitely wouldn’t have been so difficult to handle with her toes curling from embarrassment. The atmosphere would have been as lively as a snack street or opera house, and Yuan Ye might have already been doing homework with them.

A rumbling from deep in her stomach cut short Chun Zao’s social self-reflection, and only then did she remember she hadn’t eaten dinner yet.

Chun Zao, whose ten fingers never touched spring water, usually dealt with everything using instant noodles. Time was pressing, so she immediately got up to boil water in the kitchen, then moved the small stool her mother sat on to wash clothes from the bathroom, stepped on it, and opened the high cabinet.

After deliberating between cup and bagged versions, Chun Zao carried out a box of Master Kong braised beef noodles with both hands and jumped back to the ground.

The sound of boiling water in the electric kettle grew louder. Chun Zao quickened her pace, sprinkling powdered seasoning on the noodle cake, and was even choked into sneezing.

“You haven’t eaten dinner yet?”

She heard Yuan Ye’s voice again.

Chun Zao turned around and saw the boy leaning against the kitchen doorframe, arms crossed, his posture more relaxed than before.

Having lived here for a year, she was discovering for the first time that this sliding door was so small.

Chun Zao rubbed her still-itchy nose: “Mm.”

She turned back around, slowly shaking out the seasoning packet, also clearing away the sudden awkwardness in her heart.

There was clanging and banging outside, which she couldn’t ignore either, but since he’d gotten his answer, he should go back now, right?

But the boy was still concerned: “Just eating instant noodles?”

Chun Zao turned her head for the second time: “There’s nothing else to eat, and I… I don’t know how to make other things.”

Her jaw tightened, but her tone was perfectly steady because she didn’t want him to see her embarrassment. At the same time, she mentally convinced herself that she was still a student, and having somewhat lacking self-care abilities wasn’t a big deal.

Pop—the boiling water reached its peak, the kettle automatically shut off, the gurgling sound gradually ceased, and the kitchen fell silent.

“Want me to order takeout for you?”

Yuan Ye appropriately ended the awkward silence.

Chun Zao immediately shook her head: “No need.”

“Thank you,” she added the reason “but it’s very late now.”

Yuan Ye observed her for a moment, nodded, shifted his weight back, and turned to leave.

Chun Zao exhaled, quickly poured boiling water into the cup noodle bowl, then skillfully sealed the bowl opening with a fork, and finally shut herself and the instant noodles back in the bedroom.

Chun Zao never ate in her room. Chun Chuzhen had more rules than the constitution, one of which was not eating any food with odors in the bedroom. If she knew about tonight’s transgression, especially with the door sealed shut the whole time, she’d probably renovate and replace all the interior furniture when she returned.

Chun Zao stopped imagining and quickly finished the entire bowl of instant noodles, then opened all the windows to ventilate and disperse the smell before returning to her desk and pushing the empty bowl aside.

Suddenly, she had nothing to do.

She glanced at her watch—it was past ten o’clock. It was all Tong Yue’s fault for causing trouble. On a normal weekend, she would have already bathed and been peacefully reading, listening to music, and waiting to sleep.

Anxiety suddenly arose. Chun Zao took out pajamas from the wardrobe, then ran to the door, cracked it open slightly, and observed the shared bathroom across the way.

No one was using it.

Would Yuan Ye also need to use it?

Following the principle of courtesy, Chun Zao suppressed her impatience and sat back down, pulling out a copy of Dickens’ “The Pickwick Papers” and casually browsing through it.

The pages flipped faster and faster. Chun Zao’s patience was running out. When she raised her wrist to check the time for the third time, she could no longer bear it and walked out of her room.

Unexpectedly, Yuan Ye’s door was open.

Unlike her closed-door isolation, and not half-concealed either—it was quite generously wide open.

She poked her head in slightly and discovered Yuan Ye was also reading.

Unlike her, he wasn’t sitting properly upright but was casually leaning against his chair back. What he held wasn’t one of the high school required extracurricular readings assigned by teachers either—the cover displayed a large three-character title: “Flatland.”

He wore white Bluetooth earphones, his brow furrowed, looking somewhat absorbed.

Just as she was hesitating whether to call him, the boy glanced over.

He placed the book face down on the desk and removed the earphones, facing her: “Is there something?”

Chun Zao asked: “Do you need to use the bathroom now?”

Yuan Ye replied: “No.”

Chun Zao paused for a second: “Then I’ll go shower first.”

The boy also had a consistent lag: “Mm, okay.”

Chun Zao turned to leave but was called back.

She looked back to see Yuan Ye had completely removed his earphones, then picked up a medium-sized white paper bag from beside his desk, walked over to her, and handed it over.

Chun Zao looked up, puzzled.

“My family bought a lot of snacks to keep here,” his tone was natural. “I can’t finish them alone, so I’m sharing some with you. Also to thank you for your friend’s milk tea.”

With the instant noodle incident as precedent, Chun Zao wasn’t lacking in awareness and didn’t refuse his kindness.

The paper bag was heavier than expected when it reached her hands.

She switched to holding it with both hands and said Thanks.

Back in her room, Chun Zao opened the bag to look inside. It contained some loose small breads, mini boxed chips and crackers, and jerky, in considerable quantities that nearly filled the bag. Did boys eat these kinds of snacks? She closed the paper bag again, no longer delaying, took her pajamas from the foot of the bed, and went to the bathroom.

In the past, after bathing, she would casually throw her outer clothes into the dirty laundry basket, never giving it a second thought since her mother would collect and wash everything anyway. But today was different. Before leaving, she specifically took them all out, carefully folded them, and carried them back to the bedroom in her arms.

Locking the door, she felt greatly relieved.

The lemon mint flavor of toothpaste lingered between her lips and teeth, icy cool. Chun Zao lightly hissed, silently sighing that she could finally have peace until dawn.

She leaned against the headboard, turned off the main light, leaving only a small table lamp for illumination, then took out her phone and earphones from beside her pillow, opened the offline match-three game, and concentrated on clearing levels, isolated from the world.

…

Only after confirming it was completely quiet outside did Yuan Ye emerge from his room.

As soon as he stepped into the bathroom, it was like entering a tropical rainforest overflowing with sweet fruit fragrance. He was momentarily stunned, then turned to close the door.

Despite the water vapor all around, the entire bathroom had been tidied as if it had just undergone deep cleaning.

For no reason, Yuan Ye curved his lips upward and maintained this expression for a while.

It was already late, so he quickly finished his shower, put on a T-shirt, then threw all his changed clothes into the basin, carried it to a high place, and added detergent and tap water.

Cold water poured out, quickly neutralizing the misty environment to clarity.

Yuan Ye supported himself on the countertop with one hand, looking down, slightly lost in thought watching the churning foam.

Suddenly, the boy’s gaze paused, and he turned off the faucet.

His slender hand plunged into the foam and pinched something out.

A girl’s hair.

Due to the moisture, as soon as it left the water surface, it softly coiled around his distinct finger bones.