Jiang Yan looked at Lu Yicheng with suspicion.

It was mostly that Lu Yicheng and Jiang Ruoqiao had clearly been in the middle of talking. He racked his brain but couldn’t think of when these two had become acquainted at all.

And then there was the question of — what was Lu Yicheng even doing here?

Lu Yicheng also turned to look at Jiang Yan.

Their eyes met across the distance, with Jiang Ruoqiao in the middle. But the distance between Jiang Ruoqiao and Lu Yicheng was far shorter than the distance between Jiang Ruoqiao and Jiang Yan. The flowing crowd around them seemed, in this moment, to have become a dividing line across the middle of a battlefield. Jiang Ruoqiao and Lu Yicheng were on one side; Jiang Yan was on the other.

Lu Yicheng’s gaze remained steady and calm.

Why was he here? How was it that he was here?

The question was easy enough to answer, really. After Jiang Ruoqiao and Jiang Yan broke up, he probably shouldn’t have been troubled by this at all.

Jiang Ruoqiao noticed Lu Yicheng wasn’t speaking, and then Jiang Yan came closer. She looked again at Lu Yicheng’s expression — and understood what he was thinking in that moment.

But regardless of whether Lu Yicheng and Jiang Yan would remain friends in the future, she felt that her breakup with Jiang Yan shouldn’t be dragged into his life. None of this had anything to do with Lu Yicheng to begin with.

What remained of her conscience told her: don’t involve Lu Yicheng. Don’t let him be misunderstood as someone who had meddled in a friend’s relationship.

A man as upright and sincere as him shouldn’t be subjected to that kind of misunderstanding.

Jiang Ruoqiao spoke up first, her tone even. “Just happened to run into each other.”

She glanced at her watch. “It’s getting late. I have things to do. I’ll head out first.”

Without looking to see what expression was on Jiang Yan’s face, she swept her gaze briefly over Lu Yicheng and then left the park entrance without looking back. Jiang Yan wanted to call after her but caught himself in time — he no longer had any standing to do so. His gaze fell, carrying a trace of defeat, as he turned to Lu Yicheng, still unable to fully mask his confusion. “Director Lu, what are you doing here?”

Lu Yicheng understood what Jiang Ruoqiao was trying to do.

He didn’t mind.

But since her stance was this clear, it wasn’t his place to say anything. “Had some business nearby. Just passing through.”

“Oh.” Jiang Yan pressed further, “What were you two talking about?”

“Nothing in particular.” Lu Yicheng’s tone was somewhat distant.

Jiang Yan felt a vague unease, though he couldn’t quite identify where it was coming from or why. In the end, he reasoned that it was probably just as Director Lu said — he’d been in the area for something and happened to pass by. Even if Lu Yicheng and Ruoqiao weren’t close, they had been introduced before — he had brought Ruoqiao along to that dormitory dinner, and a few days ago they had all gone to the countryside together. Even if they weren’t exactly friends, they would still exchange a greeting if they ran into each other.

Lu Yicheng hesitated a moment. “I’ve got some things to see to. I’ll head off first.”

Jiang Yan came back to himself. “Of course. Go ahead.”

Lu Yicheng left.

Jiang Yan stood at the park entrance a while longer before leaving too — in a completely different direction from both Lu Yicheng and Jiang Ruoqiao. The blow of a breakup, the grief of it, doesn’t arrive all at once in a single moment. Even now, though Jiang Yan’s mind understood that they had broken up, his subconscious and his body hadn’t caught up yet — he was numb. And so he had been able to watch Jiang Ruoqiao leave. Yet when he turned down one street and boarded a bus, and saw through the window a little shop on the roadside selling hand-churned ice cream, it was as though a needle had been quietly threaded into his chest — not a sharp agony, but vivid and unmistakable. That needle would sink deeper with every passing day, until eventually, when the time came to try and pull it out, it would leave nothing but ruins.

For now, he could still keep himself composed.

Only because somewhere in the depths of his heart, a voice kept telling him: don’t give up.

As long as that voice was there, as long as he could still find ways to see her… the pain of the breakup could be numbed.

—

Jiang Ruoqiao arrived ahead of Lu Yicheng and went first to the chicken broth noodle shop he had mentioned, ordering a bowl for Lu Siyan.

While waiting for the noodles to be prepared, she went to a nearby restaurant and ordered two meat dishes and one vegetable.

Jing Shi was a city that never slowed down. The noodle shop owner finished quickly, the restaurant chef stir-fried the three dishes at top speed, and by the time Jiang Ruoqiao walked into the hotel lobby carrying armfuls of packed food, she spotted Lu Yicheng standing at the elevator, staring up at the blinking floor numbers. He seemed lost in thought — and yet when the elevator arrived at the ground floor and the doors opened, he didn’t step in. He appeared to be waiting for someone.

Jiang Ruoqiao walked toward him.

Before she had even gotten close, he turned his head and looked over at her.

It wasn’t that he had heard her footsteps — he had caught her scent first. That light, sweet floral fragrance that was hers.

He saw her carrying the packed food and extended a hand. The meaning was self-evident.

Jiang Ruoqiao handed the packed boxes over to him.

In the exchange from her hands to his, there was an unavoidable, fleeting moment of contact — her fingers grazed his palm. Lu Yicheng paused almost imperceptibly, then recovered naturally. Jiang Ruoqiao barely registered it.

The two of them stepped into the elevator together. Jiang Ruoqiao swiped her room card.

She had booked the hourly room for Lu Yicheng.

There was still time left before checkout. She had already spoken to the front desk, and they had assigned him the room right next to hers.

Standing in the elevator, neither of them spoke. Partly because the events of a little while ago had been quite unexpected.

Fortunately, they soon reached her floor. The two of them stepped out of the elevator one after the other, and when they arrived at the hourly room she had booked for Lu Yicheng, they found that Lu Siyan had been waiting eagerly. Seeing his papa and mama come back together, he was so ecstatic that he started bouncing all over the bed — he looked nothing like a sick child.

Perhaps it was the sheer happiness of the moment, but even the comparatively plain chicken broth noodles went down with great satisfaction for Lu Siyan.

Jiang Ruoqiao and Lu Yicheng sat in the chairs and ate from the three dishes she had packed.

Three dishes between two people was just about right.

The two adults didn’t say much, but with Lu Siyan present, there was never any risk of awkward silence. Lu Siyan surveyed the three dishes with longing eyes practically dripping with want. “This is so unfair, so unfair! There’s the stir-fried pork I love, and shredded potato which I also love!”

Jiang Ruoqiao actually considered giving him a few bites.

Lu Yicheng spoke in measured, unhurried tones. “These all have chili in them. And they’re too oily and salty. Not suitable while he’s still recovering.”

Jiang Ruoqiao shrugged at the pitiful-looking Lu Siyan. “Nothing I can do. Doctor Lu says no. I’m powerless.”

Lu Yicheng: “…”

There was no need to keep poking fun at him for being a doctor. He was simply following the medical advice they had been given.

Lu Siyan could only drag his gaze away with immense reluctance and bury his head in his noodles.

For the most part, Lu Siyan was a very reasonable child.

Lu Siyan was quiet for all of about three seconds before looking up to ask Jiang Ruoqiao, “Mama, is Lakeside Park really fun?”

He might as well not have mentioned Lakeside Park — the moment he did, both Jiang Ruoqiao and Lu Yicheng felt a twinge of discomfort.

Jiang Ruoqiao forced herself to redirect her thoughts. “In the future, didn’t I ever take you to Lakeside Park?”

Lu Siyan shook his head. “No, I’ve never even heard of it!”

Jiang Ruoqiao reasoned that the park must have been expanded and renamed at some point in the future.

Mother and son chatted idly back and forth. Lu Siyan’s fever was fully broken now, and Lu Yicheng was planning to take him home once they checked out. It wasn’t practical to keep staying at the hotel, and with school starting in just a couple of days, Jiang Ruoqiao would need to move back into the dormitory as well. Lu Siyan no longer insisted on staying with Jiang Ruoqiao — he admitted that the hotel wasn’t as fun as he’d imagined, and his own bed at home was much more comfortable. But most importantly, he had started to miss his toys.

After they finished eating, Lu Yicheng began clearing away the table and packaging without being asked.

Lu Siyan went off to the bathroom.

Jiang Ruoqiao was aware that Lu Yicheng felt sensitive about things like this — after all, they were nothing to each other, and yet somehow these past few days had carried this strange, furtive quality. But there was nothing to be done about it. Things would settle down after this. Whatever happened between the two men was out of her hands — all she could do was make sure she conducted herself properly, and at the very least, not embarrass herself in front of Lu Yicheng.

She lowered her voice. “He should have accepted the breakup by now. He and I are truly finished.”

So going forward, there would be no need to feel like anything was weighing on his conscience.

And yet even as she said it, she felt that something about it sounded strange.

She had only been trying to state a fact — to make it clear that things between her and Jiang Yan were cleanly over — but somehow the way it came out felt less like a simple statement of fact and more like… *a mistress reporting back to the other man to assure him she’d cut things off with her side piece*. No, wait — that wasn’t right either. Lu Yicheng, upright and principled as he was, was the last person you’d picture doing something so morally questionable. More accurately, it sounded like she was *assuring her actual husband that she wouldn’t be keeping up with any unsavory characters anymore*.

What was happening?

She was losing her mind.

Lu Yicheng gave a mild nod, as if he had no particular feelings about any of it. He looked perfectly magnanimous.

Jiang Ruoqiao thought: *That somehow makes it even weirder.*

She added, “And what happened today shouldn’t cause any problems.”

Lu Yicheng glanced at her at that. In the end, he said nothing.

Fine. When all was said and done, whatever happened next was between him and Jiang Yan.

They had shared a dormitory for two years and known each other that whole time — he understood Jiang Yan to a degree. There were many things Jiang Ruoqiao didn’t know — she didn’t know that Jiang Yan had once spotted that bottle of spray in his apartment, and she wasn’t entirely sure what it had meant that Jiang Yan had used two other people’s phones to call her and gotten no answer, but when he used Lu Yicheng’s phone, she had picked up. So she thought there was nothing to worry about. But Lu Yicheng wasn’t so optimistic. Jiang Yan would figure it out soon enough. That was fine. He had long since prepared himself for his friendship with Jiang Yan to run its course.

He wasn’t afraid.

He had done nothing wrong. Neither had she.

—

Jiang Yan did not return to Mingmen Huafu that night.

Too much had happened today and he hadn’t been able to process it all. He checked into a random hotel room.

Lying on the bed, his mind kept cycling through everything Ruoqiao had said — about Kexing, about his mother.

Then, without warning, more pieces began to surface.

The first: that day at the countryside accommodation, when he had gone to Lu Yicheng’s place and noticed that bottle of spray.

The second: during the Truth or Dare game, why Lu Yicheng had refused to answer the question about the last female contact he had spoken to. What was there to hide?

The third: when Du Yu and Wang Jiangfeng called Ruoqiao from their phones, she had declined immediately. But when the call came from Lu Yicheng’s phone, she had answered — was it really just because she didn’t recognize the number and thought it might be a stranger?

And then today.

Today had been very strange.

The “just happened to pass by” explanation could technically hold, but something still felt off.

What was it?

Jiang Yan shot upright.

The expressions.

Yes — the expressions.

If it had truly been a chance encounter between two people who barely knew each other, why did neither of their faces show the slightest awkwardness or obligatory politeness of strangers? Instead — instead, they had given off a sense of ease. Of familiarity.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

As a certain possibility — the one he least wanted to consider — began to take shape in his mind, Jiang Yan’s expression darkened into something unreadable.

—