Jiang Yan was taken aback. He looked at her for a moment, then slowly lowered his head and let out a quiet laugh. He said nothing, and put his phone away.

The spicy hot pot shop was small and crowded. After paying, Lin Tao watched the owner clip numbered tags onto the four differently colored plastic baskets and carry them all to a table at the back.

There were seven or eight more baskets of the same kind waiting ahead of theirs.

People streamed in and out of the entrance. Jiang Yan pulled Lin Tao to one side, beneath a tree by the road. Beside them, a few bicycles were parked in scattered disarray. Behind them lay the night — dark and thick as ink.

The atmosphere was slightly heavy.

Lin Tao looked down and nudged a pebble with her toe. Though it was a little awkward, she didn’t dare open her mouth right now, afraid she might step on yet another landmine.

The pebble skittered and bounced away, seeming to knock against a discarded tin can — a clean, bright clatter — and then went still.

Jiang Yan glanced at her from the side. From his angle, he had a clear view of the line of her neck — pale and slender — along with the curve of her ear as it rose and fell, finally settling at the softness of her earlobe.

He looked away, composed, and asked with feigned casualness, “You’re not going home tonight — your family isn’t worried?”

“No. My parents went on a business trip tonight.” Lin Tao looked up at the steam rising from the pot across the way, and then, without any particular segue, said, “Growing up, they were always going on business trips. I’m used to it.”

The loneliness and quiet in the little girl’s voice was unmistakable. Jiang Yan spoke in comfort, his voice gentle. “The carefree life you have now — it was bought by your parents sacrificing the time they could’ve spent with you.”

“They do it for you to have a better life.”

Just like Fang Hai, once upon a time — he had chosen not to stay precisely so that Jiang Yan could have a better life.

Lin Tao looked up into his eyes, then suddenly broke into a smile. Her eyes curved, and there was a light hidden inside them. “The way you talk is exactly like the grandmother who lives in my building.”

“…” Jiang Yan looked at her grinning like a little fool, and couldn’t help it — he reached out and gave her head a light pat. “You’re ridiculous.”

Lin Tao, for once, didn’t fire back.

…

More than ten minutes later, the two of them carried the four packed portions of spicy hot pot back to the internet café. Guan Che was behind the counter watching TV, his headset hanging around his neck.

Lin Tao said a quick hello to him, then went straight back upstairs to the private room.

By the time they finished eating, Lin Tao checked the time — it was nearly two in the morning. She yawned, stood, and went out to find the bathroom.

The second floor’s layout was simple and straightforward — one long straight corridor, visible end to end, with signs for the emergency exit and restroom hanging from the ceiling.

Lin Tao was exhausted to her core. She yawned again as she walked, eyes half-closed for just a moment — and ran straight into Jiang Yan coming up from downstairs.

“Tired?” Jiang Yan reacted quickly, catching her by the arm and steadying her. He looked down and saw the little girl’s eyelids drooping, her face a picture of drowsiness.

“A little… I’ll just go lie down for a bit when I get back and I’ll be fine.” Lin Tao had pulled all-nighters with Meng Xin before. Staying up all night and napping for a stretch was pretty much the norm.

“I thought you’d be able to push through.” Jiang Yan let go of her arm, then turned and stepped onto the nearby staircase, heading toward the third floor. “Come up with me.”

“?”

Lin Tao felt that, at this hour, with this particular person saying those words, they were just a little too easy to read in a certain way. She hesitated — but in the end, exhaustion won out over embarrassment. She lifted her foot and followed him up.

The third floor’s layout was different from the second. At the top of the staircase opened a spacious common area with several long sofas and a wooden coffee table.

In an open space to one side stood a billiards table, with an unfinished game still set up on it.

The whole floor felt much larger than the second, though there were fewer rooms. Lin Tao scanned the area casually and counted only four door numbers.

She followed Jiang Yan to the room at the very end — Room 301.

The door was outfitted with a combination lock, which struck her as remarkably high-tech for such a modest entrance. Jiang Yan bent his head, keyed in a few digits, and pressed confirm. There was a ding, and the door opened.

The room’s decor was simple. At a glance, there were only three colors — gray, black, and white.

Inside sat a bed, a wardrobe beside it, and on the other side a desk pushed up against the wall beneath the window. The desk was covered in books. Next to it stood a wooden bookshelf lined with more books, along with quite a few certificates and trophies.

Jiang Yan stepped in first, scooped up the clothes scattered across the sofa in one go, and tossed them into the laundry hamper nearby. He looked back at the person still standing in the doorway. “Come in. Make yourself comfortable.”

“Oh.” Lin Tao walked inside and sat on the single sofa, watching Jiang Yan gather the charging cables and power banks strewn across the bed.

She couldn’t help asking, “Is this your room?”

“Yeah.”

Jiang Yan tidied up quickly, then stepped into the attached bathroom. Once he’d made sure there was nothing too revealing left out in the open, he came back out. “I got you a clean set of toiletries. Go freshen up, and then you can sleep here.”

“…Huh?”

Jiang Yan leaned against the doorframe. The warm lamplight in the room softened even his smile. “What’s wrong — scared?”

“Not really.” Lin Tao twisted her fingers together. “But isn’t this your room? If I sleep here, where do you sleep?”

“I’ll sleep here too.”

“?…” Lin Tao was stunned. How could he be so shameless?

Jiang Yan saw her shocked expression, lowered his head, and laughed. “You sleep here. I’m working the night shift — I won’t have time to sleep.”

“…” Oh good, she’d stepped on another landmine.

Jiang Yan quirked his mouth, then turned to leave. At the door, he paused and looked back. “I’m just downstairs. Call if you need anything.”

He lifted a hand and pointed to the bedside. “That phone — press 1, and it connects directly to the counter downstairs.”

Lin Tao followed the direction of his finger to a black telephone on the nightstand. “Oh — so if I can’t sleep, can I call you and ask for a bedtime story?”

“Sure, go ahead and try.” Jiang Yan held his own phone loosely, giving it a light swing. “I’m heading down. Get some rest.”

Lin Tao nodded, slightly hesitant. “Then… goodnight.”

Jiang Yan seemed to be in a particularly good mood tonight — his smiles came one after another. He gave a small nod, his voice low and pleasant. “Yeah. Goodnight.”

He opened the door and stepped out. Lin Tao listened to the sound of the door closing, to the sound of his footsteps, and then to nothing at all. Only then did she rise and walk to the bathroom.

Jiang Yan came down from the third floor. On the second, he stopped, hesitated for a few seconds, then turned and walked down the hallway toward the private room at the far end.

Lin Tao had left the door not quite shut when she’d come out. Before he even reached it, he could hear the sounds from inside.

“What the — what kind of garbage move was that?! Fast enough to steal loot, not fast enough to show up for a raid!”

“Get him!! Challenge him to a duel!! Just PK him already!!!!!”

Jiang Yan: “…”

He made a mental note: in the future, he needed to make sure his little deskmate didn’t go online with this girl so often.

Meng Xin hadn’t heard the knock, and it was only when the room’s light came on that she realized someone was standing in the doorway. The insult she’d had half out of her mouth got stuck in her throat. “School — no, Jiang—”

Before she could finish, Jiang Yan had already spoken. “Lin Tao is resting upstairs in Room 301. If you get tired, go to Room 302 next door. The passcode is the room number.”

“?” Meng Xin nodded blankly.

The school tyrant, moved by his care for a fellow classmate: “Girls shouldn’t come to places like this late at night.”

Especially when you’re bringing my deskmate along.

“…” Meng Xin continued nodding.

“Get some rest.”

“…Okay.” Meng Xin gave a stiff little wave. “Bye…”

The school tyrant turned coldly and left. Meng Xin stood there stunned for a long moment, until the sound of her master yelling himself hoarse through her headset snapped her back to reality.

She dove back in to rejoin the group, fingers flying across the keyboard. In the gap while waiting for the boss to drop loot, she opened QQ and sent Lin Tao several messages.

Then she went back to her raid.

Lin Tao didn’t see the messages until half an hour later.

She had just finished washing up, and was sitting cross-legged on the edge of the bed, taking in the room’s surroundings, when she reached for her phone and saw what Meng Xin had sent.

Meng Xin: 【What the heck, Tao Tao — you should just go ahead and claim the school tyrant! He’s so good to you boo hoo hoo hoo hoo hoo, he even cared about me, a lowly commoner! He told me to get some rest early! And not to come to places like this late at night anymore!】

Meng Xin: 【…Wait, actually I feel like he was hinting that I shouldn’t bring you to places like this anymore!?】

Meng Xin: 【…/wave/ /goodbye/】

Lin Tao: “…”

It was getting late. After asking Meng Xin where she’d be sleeping, Lin Tao set her phone to charge and got up to turn off the light.

When she came back, she picked up her phone for one last glance and saw that Jiang Yan had sent her a message a few seconds ago.

[What do you want for breakfast tomorrow?]

Lin Tao thought about it, then typed back: [Small wontons, I think.]

Jiang Yan didn’t reply again. Lin Tao put her phone down, pulled back the blanket, and climbed in. The curtains didn’t block the light very well, and a soft, hazy moonlight settled over the room.

Lin Tao wasn’t that sleepy anymore. She turned over, and her gaze was drawn to a photograph on the bedside table.

It showed a grown man holding a small boy.

They stood at the old entrance of Shi High School. The man’s face wore a smile. The boy seemed a little shy, his arms wrapped around the man’s neck, his face turned away from the camera.

Lin Tao looked at it for a while, then rolled over to face the other direction and closed her eyes.

Dawn had barely broken when Lin Tao woke up. She was not good at sleeping in unfamiliar places, and the night before she’d tossed and turned until well past four in the morning before finally drifting off.

Now, freshly awake, she was still barely functional. Her eyes were half-open, her head resting on the pillow, breathing in a faint scent of mint.

After a little while, a sharp shout suddenly rose from downstairs — as though someone had hit a switch — and the world outside came alive all at once.

Lin Tao rubbed her eyes, pushed back the blanket, and got up to walk to the window, pulling the curtains aside.

Thin morning mist, early light. The alleyway that had been nearly deserted the night before was now like a different world entirely. Breakfast stalls had appeared at every corner and crevice.

Small children chased each other down the lanes with toys, grandparents following in pursuit with bowls in hand. Bicycle bells rang out in cheerful clangs. Figures in school uniforms darted swiftly through the crowd.

Men carrying briefcases. Smartly dressed working women. Hurried footsteps. Quiet murmured conversations.

All of it brought a different kind of color to this gray little alley in the daylight hours.

Lin Tao stood by the window for a few minutes, then let the curtain fall, turned back inside to freshen up, and once she’d gotten herself together, headed downstairs.

The internet café in the morning was a landscape of sleeping figures. Lin Tao tiptoed down the staircase. The counter was empty.

She took out her phone and was just about to send a message — only a few characters typed — when the door of the café was pulled open from outside. Guan Che and Jiang Yan walked in one after the other, breakfast in hand.

Guan Che had a pair of chopsticks sticking out of his mouth. He saw Lin Tao and called out a muffled greeting. “Morning.”

From the time she’d arrived yesterday to right now, Lin Tao had been hearing this person call her little sister nonstop. By reflex, she answered: “Morning, big brother.”

Guan Che: “…”

Jiang Yan: “…”

Author’s note: — Jiang Yan: Fine. Big brother. One day I’ll have you crying and calling me daddy. (:

—

Tomorrow is the College Entrance Exam — everyone give it your all! Go for it!!! Wishing you all great results!! See you in your new schools in September!!

—

Recommending a friend’s story — the male lead is the type who schemes his way right into his own funeral:

“Hard to Resist You” by Jin Huai

Xia Shi had a fierce crush on Ye Beizhu in her youth.

Everyone said Ye Beizhu was a wolf — no one could tame him. Xia Shi only knew that with him, she felt both sweetness and bitterness.

Then Xia Shi let go, and disappeared from Ye Beizhu’s world entirely.

When they met again by chance, a friend teased Xia Shi, asking if she’d fallen for him again.

Xia Shi answered calmly: “A good horse doesn’t graze the same pasture twice. Ye Beizhu isn’t someone she could afford.”

Later still, she found herself pinned against a sink by Ye Beizhu. The man curved his lips coldly, leaned in close to her ear, and murmured: “I’m in my prime.”

Xia Shi had thought he meant a Venus flytrap. Later she found out he was more like a crashing wave.

① A story of a man who torments his wife for a time, then spends forever chasing after her.