In truth, other than Jiang Yan, the other two roommates both had a slightly complicated dynamic with Lu Yicheng.

The two roommates had warned Jiang Yan in a joking tone, but unfortunately Jiang Yan didn’t take it to heart at all. In his heart, he genuinely only saw Lin Kexing as a little sister, and besides, it was just one round of a game to help her rank up — it wasn’t a regular thing, it was literally the first time. Their four-way friendship was good, but “good” didn’t mean anyone was willing to meddle too much in each other’s private lives.

A gentle nudge was enough.

After Lu Yicheng exited the game, he opened an app called “Children’s Songs Galore” and handed it back to Lu Siyan.

Lu Siyan glanced at it. “…Alright.”

Fine.

He was actually a great singer who loved music — he was the singing star of his kindergarten class.

Neither father nor son brought up the game again. Lu Yicheng returned to his desk to continue writing up lesson plans, his pen pausing briefly on the paper before he resumed with undivided focus.

The next day at noon, Lu Yicheng returned from one student’s home. He fed Lu Siyan lunch as quickly as possible, then brought him along to Jiang Ruoqiao’s apartment.

Before they set off, Lu Siyan had packed his backpack until it was stuffed to the brim.

In the afternoons, Lu Yicheng was generally very busy. His first student in the morning lived relatively close — only three or four stops by bus. But his afternoon student lived far away; the subway ride alone took over an hour each way. Add in the actual lesson, and it was nearly three hours total.

In the mornings he could still leave Lu Siyan at home.

The afternoons were another matter.

Jiang Ruoqiao understood completely, so they had arranged that whenever she was free, Lu Siyan would spend those afternoon hours with her.

Lu Siyan’s home was also some distance from the apartment.

The apartment building under the proprietress’s name was a mixed-use commercial-residential type, with roughly twenty-plus units per floor. People came and went in a steady flow — some running businesses, others having converted their units into guesthouses for rent. The bustle had its advantages: nobody would pay any particular attention to you. So Jiang Ruoqiao had given Lu Yicheng the unit number, and Heaven could bear witness — this was entirely a testament to her confidence in his character.

When father and son arrived, Jiang Ruoqiao had just returned from the shoot herself.

She hadn’t even had time to change out of her hanfu.

It was a pale purple chest-high ruqun, the skirt hem adorned with exquisitely crafted embroidery. Being a summer hanfu, the fabric was soft and light.

Jiang Ruoqiao’s skin was strikingly pale — one could say it outshone frost and rivaled snow without any exaggeration. Her features and bearing were perfectly complemented by the hanfu, which was one of the reasons the proprietress was so reluctant to let her go. No suitable alternative had yet been found in the real world. She was young, like a flower still in bud, with clear and bright eyes, carrying a scholarly, literary air. What made her truly rare was her dance background — her every movement carried an indescribable sense of lightness and grace.

The father and son, neither of whom had ever seen her like this, both went still.

Lu Yicheng recovered more quickly — his gaze lingered on her face for a few seconds before his eyelids lowered, and when he looked up again, his expression was completely calm.

Lu Siyan, however, as her biggest fan, walked two full circles around her, letting out a stream of “wow”s. “This is so beautiful — the outfit is gorgeous! How come I’ve never seen you wear this before!”

The “before” Lu Siyan referred to was, from Jiang Ruoqiao’s perspective, actually the future.

So it was true — even her future self had not stayed in this industry.

“It’s my work,” Jiang Ruoqiao said, not wishing to explain further. She was utterly exhausted, and leaned languidly against the door frame. “Come on in.”

Lu Yicheng was wearing a white top and black trousers today, with a black backpack.

“I’ll head off then.”

“Mm.”

Jiang Ruoqiao watched him walk a few steps away before closing the door.

Lu Siyan had clearly been raised very well — he was standing quietly and properly on the entrance mat, not wandering around or peeking at anything.

“There are no slippers for you,” Jiang Ruoqiao said after a pause. “Just go barefoot.”

Lu Siyan bent down and took off his shoes.

It was only then that Jiang Ruoqiao noticed he had his little backpack on — stuffed completely full and bulging.

She reached out and hefted it. “What have you packed in here? It’s so heavy.”

Lu Siyan, like someone presenting a treasure, hurried to take off the backpack, unzip it, and pull things out with his chubby little hands —

One orange!

One apple!

Two bottles of Yakult!

Two salt-baked eggs!

And one box of Pocky in tiramisu flavor.

Jiang Ruoqiao laughed. “Did you pack for a spring outing?”

Lu Siyan corrected her. “I brought these for you.”

“?”

“These are all your favorites!” he said, pointing at everything.

Jiang Ruoqiao thought about it — that actually was true… She picked up the Pocky. “Everything else, sure, but this I definitely don’t like.”

Lu Siyan’s eyes went wide, his entire worldview shaken. “Impossible!!”

“I genuinely don’t like sweet snacks.” She didn’t even care much for bubble tea.

Yakult was kind of… an exception, maybe.

“If you don’t like it, why did you always fight me for it before?!” Lu Siyan demanded.

He had always thought Mom loved them.

Jiang Ruoqiao rubbed her chin. “Tastes change over time.”

Besides — for all she knew, her future self had been snatching them away to keep the kid from eating too many sweets.

Lu Siyan stared at her. “…”

Every time they had Pocky, Mom would grab half!

He felt betrayed.

“Even though I don’t like them, you brought them for me,” Jiang Ruoqiao said. “So how about I still eat half — fair?”

Doesn’t that make you feel honored, little one?

Lu Siyan clutched the box of Pocky to his chest. “No! I’m eating every single one!”

Not one left for her.

“Fine, eat them all,” Jiang Ruoqiao said. “Just entertain yourself for a bit — I need to take my makeup off and shower.”

She turned on the TV for Lu Siyan, then disappeared into the bathroom for nearly an hour before emerging clean and refreshed. She was only wearing a loose, long T-shirt dress. She had just sat down, and before she could even ask what cartoon Lu Siyan was watching, her phone rang — a WeChat video call notification.

It was Jiang Yan calling.

They video called every day. Jiang Ruoqiao hesitated briefly, then got up, took her phone, and walked to the dining area.

The apartment was a loft — the kitchen and dining area were right by the entrance, and the bedroom was on the second floor. There was nothing separating the dining area from the living room below.

She accepted the call. On the screen, Jiang Yan was sitting on the villa balcony, the sea breeze playing through his hair.

“Wrapped up for the day?”

Yesterday, Jiang Ruoqiao had told Jiang Yan she had come back to Jing Shi early — not to play, but for a photoshoot.

Jiang Yan had originally considered buying a ticket to come back to Jing Shi early, but once he heard she was working, he shelved that plan.

When they were dating, their personalities aligned well in this way: neither would disturb the other during work or study.

“Mm.”

“My mom and the others have boundless energy,” Jiang Yan said. “They finished dinner and went straight out shopping.”

“So you’re home alone?”

Jiang Ruoqiao genuinely did have some fondness for Jiang Yan.

For this trip to Sanya, Jiang Yan was staying in his own family’s villa. He hadn’t said so — she had figured it out herself. A few days ago she’d asked him: since Sanya wasn’t in peak tourist season, renting a villa probably wasn’t that expensive, right? He had said he didn’t know — the villa wasn’t rented.

And then while they were chatting, a housekeeper had come over and asked him: *Young Master, the neighbor is inviting you to dinner — they bought their villa at the same time, and it’s been two or three years but this is the first time they’ve seen the owner visit on holiday, so they want to celebrate together.*

She had only caught that one line, and after Jiang Yan dismissed the housekeeper, he picked up the conversation again without any further mention of the villa rental matter.

“Mm,” Jiang Ruoqiao murmured, lost in her own thoughts, not noticing that Jiang Yan had paused quite noticeably before answering.

In fact, he wasn’t alone at home — Lin Kexing was there too.

He just didn’t see the need to mention it.

Bringing up his relationship with Lin Kexing would inevitably lead to talking about his family. He wasn’t ready to get into that yet.

“You look thinner somehow?” Jiang Ruoqiao peered at him through the screen with something resembling careful scrutiny, then suddenly said.

Jiang Yan touched his face. “Do I? I haven’t noticed. You know how it is — I just don’t really like seafood.”

“I genuinely don’t know whether to call you high-maintenance or easy to please. You’re perfectly happy with a bowl of egg fried rice and peanuts — that’s the best thing in the world to you, isn’t it. But if I drag you to a barbecue, you act like I’ve sentenced you to death,” Jiang Ruoqiao said with a small smile.

Jiang Yan burst out laughing and immediately pleaded for mercy. “I really just don’t like all those fussy, elaborate foods.”

Between two people in love, even the most mundane topics are endlessly entertaining.

This breakup with Jiang Yan — Jiang Ruoqiao truly wasn’t looking forward to it.

But reluctant or not, it had to happen.

She just wanted it to happen cleanly, ideally with the moral high ground. Because ex-boyfriends were hidden assets in the social network — maybe you’d never need to cash in on them, but it was still worth accumulating. Given Jiang Yan’s background, who was to say she wouldn’t one day need his help? Making a scene of the breakup didn’t suit her style at all.

After more idle chat, they ended the twenty-minute video call.

Jiang Ruoqiao walked back into the living room to find that Lu Siyan had turned the TV volume down at some point without her noticing.

She didn’t make any effort to hide her calls with Jiang Yan from Lu Siyan.

The child would eventually have to adapt to and accept this — she would have other boyfriends in the future, too. Lu Siyan seemed to have no strong objection, or perhaps he simply hadn’t connected it to anything else, because the topics she and Jiang Yan had discussed during the video call were entirely ordinary.

“What are you watching?” Jiang Ruoqiao asked.

Lu Siyan suddenly slapped his knee. “I just remembered! I’ve heard that person’s voice before!”

Jiang Ruoqiao caught on. “Oh — he and your dad are very good friends.”

Hearing it was perfectly normal — the boys in their dorm had a close bond.

Hmm.

That felt a little odd to explain out loud.

“Yes!” Lu Siyan said. “It was that uncle from yesterday who played games with Dad — the one who said he was helping his little sister rank up!”

Jiang Ruoqiao stared at him. “…?”

This suddenly became a very serious matter.

She immediately sat down and looked at Lu Siyan with full attention. “What uncle? Siyan, tell me exactly what happened yesterday.”

Lu Siyan, seeing how serious her expression had become, felt a little nervous himself.

“Yesterday I picked up Dad’s phone and accidentally opened the game, and then Dad played with them, and there were some uncles talking — and a sister.”

“A sister?” Jiang Ruoqiao said. “Was she brought in by the uncle I was just on a call with?”

“I think so!” Lu Siyan shook his head. “I’m not sure exactly, but he said she was his little sister.”

Jiang Ruoqiao’s expression turned thoughtful.

She had never heard Jiang Yan mention having a sister.

What exactly was going on here?

—