The girl’s voice was naturally soft to begin with. Just woken up, it was even softer than usual — the tail of the syllable carrying a little upward hook that was remarkably captivating.

Even Guan Che, a man who had wandered among countless admirers without a single one leaving a mark, someone who had long since grown used to being called big sister and little sister all day — this was the first time he had ever gotten a response like that from someone.

The chopsticks between his teeth dropped to the floor with a clatter. He snapped back to attention, bent down to pick them up, and looked back at the person standing behind him.

Jiang Yan said nothing. He stared back at him, face expressionless.

Guan Che felt a stab of panic. He had the distinct sense that Lin Tao’s two little words might cost him his oldest friendship.

He gave a hollow laugh, set the small wonton container he was holding down on the table, and subtly put more distance between himself and Jiang Yan. “So, uh — Lin Tao — where’s your little friend? Not up yet?”

Lin Tao didn’t notice the whirlwind of thoughts going through this man’s head. That “big brother” had been entirely in the spirit of a joke — she hadn’t given it a second thought. She heard him ask about Meng Xin and answered in a perfectly ordinary tone. “Meng Xin? Probably not yet. I’ll go upstairs and get her.”

“Go ahead — we’ll wait for you two in the back.” He gestured toward the small lounge behind the counter.

“Okay.”

Lin Tao turned and went upstairs. Guan Che leaned against the counter, his gaze falling on Jiang Yan. He raised both hands. “I swear to the heavens above — it’s habit, nothing more. No other meaning whatsoever.”

Jiang Yan didn’t look at him. He picked up his things and walked toward the small lounge.

Guan Che grabbed his stuff and followed. “You know me. A friend’s girl is sacred — have you not figured that out about me yet?”

The two walked in one after the other.

Jiang Yan set everything down on the square table in the middle. He looked up at him, a faint, unreadable smile at the corner of his mouth. “You? What kind of person are you?”

He lowered his head to unpack the breakfast, adding, “Not a very good one.”

“…” Guan Che laughed. Seeing that he wasn’t actually angry, he pressed a little closer. “Still say there’s nothing going on with your deskmate — she only called me big brother, and listen to yourself, all sour about it.”

“Big bro-ther?” Those last two syllables came out sounding almost like they were being forced through gritted teeth. Jiang Yan’s brow creased. “She’s a teenage girl barely out of childhood. You should be showing some respect.”

“How am I not respectful? I just called her little sister. I called your deskmate little sister for two whole years back in middle school — why didn’t you say anything about respect back then?”

“He’s a fully-grown guy with skin thicker than a city wall. What he does is none of my business.”

Guan Che was about to say something more when he caught a glimpse of Lin Tao and Meng Xin out of the corner of his eye. He swallowed the words back, but after a moment couldn’t quite let it go, and added, “You’re totally gone on her.”

Then he turned to look at Lin Tao with his usual carefree ease. “Morning, little sister — come on in and have breakfast.”

Jiang Yan: “…”

Oh, for the love of—

By the time breakfast was done, it was already getting late. Jiang Yan and Guan Che cleared away the rubbish in passing, and then all four of them got up and headed out together.

The early autumn sun wasn’t harsh, and the breeze still carried a thread of coolness.

Guan Che went to Ninth High School, which was only one street away from Shi High School. The four of them parted ways at the intersection. Just before they split up, he couldn’t resist giving Jiang Yan one last jab. “Bye, little sister — big brother’s heading off.”

Jiang Yan: “…”

Lin Tao smiled awkwardly but politely and waved. “…Goodbye.”

The three of them made their way to the school gate. Dean Li Kun was there with a stopwatch, and when he saw the three of them strolling along at their leisure, he bellowed, “You three look like you’re being pulled by an old ox! What are you dragging your feet for back there?!”

The three: “…”

Lin Tao couldn’t fathom how this man in his forties managed to have that kind of energy every single day — a voice that could rattle the sky — completely unlike the equally forty-something Teacher Yu, who was a whole different species.

Under Li Kun’s supervision, the three of them walked briskly inside.

They had just reached the bottom of the stairs in the academic building when the preparatory bell for morning self-study rang. Meng Xin’s class had Teacher Yang supervising self-study, and hearing the sound she called out, “Teacher Yang has been cracking down on tardiness lately — Tao Tao, I’m making a run for it.”

Without waiting for a response from Lin Tao, she had already vanished.

Lin Tao and Jiang Yan were left standing at the foot of the stairs on the ground floor.

It might have been her imagination, but Lin Tao felt that Jiang Yan was noticeably quieter than usual today. Even during breakfast — aside from telling Guan Che to stop chattering, he hadn’t said another word.

“You…” Lin Tao was just about to ask when, without a word, the boy swung his long legs around and headed upstairs. She paused, then had no choice but to hurry after him.

The preparatory bell had only just rung, and there was no teacher in the classroom yet.

Lin Tao followed Jiang Yan inside. Hu Hanghang and Song Yuan, sitting behind them, pressed their heads together and peered forward. “How’d you two end up coming in together?”

“We were together last night,” Lin Tao said, tucking her bag into her desk drawer and turning around to face them.

“?! What the—!” Hu Hanghang slapped the desk, his expression one of betrayed outrage. “Man, you are seriously unbelievable!”

“How old is Tao Tao?!!”

Lin Tao: “…”

Jiang Yan glanced back at Hu Hanghang with the look of someone regarding a complete fool. “Your brain’s broken. Get it fixed before it’s too late.”

Hu Hanghang fell quiet in a deflated sort of way and whispered to Lin Tao, “Okay but what actually happened? How’d you end up together last night?”

This was moving way too fast. He wasn’t sure he could handle it.

Lin Tao felt she’d dug her own grave. She also wasn’t sure whether these two knew about Jiang Yan working part-time at the café.

She hesitated for a moment, not knowing how to answer.

In Hu Hanghang’s eyes, that hesitation meant something else entirely. “Tao Tao, just say it. Song Yuan and I will back you up.”

Song Yuan pushed his head aside. “You can make a fool of yourself on your own. Leave me out of it.”

“Listen to yourself — is that something a friend says?” Hu Hanghang suddenly had a fleeting suspicion that all his friends were fakes.

Lin Tao couldn’t help laughing. She sometimes found it genuinely baffling — how had someone with Jiang Yan’s temperament managed to collect so many chaotic friends?

She crooked a finger at Hu Hanghang, and the two of them leaned close together. Her voice wasn’t even particularly low. “Yesterday after school, I caught my deskmate sneaking off to an internet café. To keep an eye on him, I tagged along.”

Jiang Yan, overhearing this from beside them: “…”

Alright, I guess I’ve been too lenient.

Hu Hanghang heard this and became even more indignant. “Bro, you are seriously unbelievable!!!”

No one took the bait, so he pushed on regardless. “You go to an internet café and you don’t call us — what, you sneaking off to rank up behind our backs?”

“Song Yuan, do something about this — can you believe this?”

Jiang Yan scooted his chair back, reached out, and gave Hu Hanghang a smack on the head. “I went to work the — ” he seemed to reconsider the particular word he was about to use, paused, and started again, “I worked the night shift. What ranking?”

“…Oh. Well, you could’ve just said so.” Hu Hanghang rubbed his head and went quiet.

Language arts teacher Mu Hui walked into the classroom with a cup of tea in hand. In the next instant, the chatter in the room transformed into the sound of voices reciting aloud.

Lin Tao pulled her language arts book out from under her desk, opened it to a random page, and leaned over to ask, “Does Hu Hanghang know you work at the internet café?”

Jiang Yan glanced at her and gave a short nod, saying nothing more.

His job wasn’t a secret. Back in their first year, he’d often skipped evening self-study to head out at night. After enough time, there was no keeping it hidden.

What he hadn’t expected was that now even his little deskmate knew.

With that thought, Jiang Yan was reminded of the morning’s incident. He looked down at her, his expression even. “Going forward — keep your distance from Guan Che.”

Lin Tao made a small sound of surprise. “Why?”

She’d thought Guan Che was actually quite fun — approachable, easy to talk to, and even though he had a laid-back attitude, there was something dependable about him.

“What do you mean why? He barely just met you and already has you calling him big brother — what does that tell you?” Every time Jiang Yan thought about those two words from the morning, his temples throbbed.

How had he never noticed before that the girl was this easy to get along with?

Lin Tao opened her mouth, stunned. “That’s not — he never asked me to call him that. I just heard him call me little sister over and over, so I made a joke. That has nothing to do with him.”

“…” Oh, so now you’re defending him.

Jiang Yan’s expression cooled. His gaze settled on her face. His throat shifted as he swallowed, something hovering on the tip of his tongue — but in the end, it went unsaid.

Lin Tao looked at him, suppressing the urge to laugh, and relented. “Alright. I’ll keep more distance from him going forward.”

Then she added, “But honestly, just calling someone big brother isn’t really a big deal.”

“If it’s something you want to hear, I can say it like ten times in a row.”

Jiang Yan: “…”

And she actually meant it — she called out once, “Big brother.”

Jiang Yan hadn’t even processed it yet before Lin Tao followed it up in rapid succession: “Big brother, big brother, big brother, big brother, big brother, big brother, big brother, big brother, big brother, big brother, big brother, big brother…”

“…”

Oh, damn it. Jiang Yan cursed inwardly.

It had to be said — Lin Tao was a cure-all for any sort of nonsense.

That morning, after those dozen or so big brothers, Jiang Yan somehow managed to go through four entire class periods without speaking a single word to her. He looked exactly like someone who had decided to sever all ties.

But Lin Tao didn’t take it to heart.

This person just needed to be left alone. Give him the cold shoulder long enough, and he’d come around on his own eventually.

At noon, Lin Tao made plans with Meng Xin to have lunch together, so she didn’t go with the four boys. The moment class ended, she was already on her way downstairs to Meng Xin’s classroom.

The teacher was running over time.

Lin Tao stood in the hallway and waited. Four or five minutes later, she heard movement from inside. She turned — the teacher was walking out with books and teaching tools, and Meng Xin shuffled out behind him with her head hanging low.

Probably got caught sleeping in class again.

Lin Tao stifled a laugh. Students poured out of the classroom in a rush, and she didn’t follow them — she just stood there waiting, letting her eyes wander idly.

Of all people, she looked up at just the right moment to catch Tang Yushi walking out of the classroom, laughing and talking with her friend.

Tang Yushi clearly spotted her too.

Lin Tao raised an eyebrow, meeting her gaze with something almost like a challenge.

With everything that had happened at the start of the school year, she’d been too caught up in things to deal with the basketball court incident from before.

But now that they’d run into each other — she wasn’t going to let it go without a word.

Tang Yushi apparently had something to say to her as well. Lin Tao didn’t know what she said to her friend, but after a moment, Tang Yushi walked over alone.

People passed by on all sides.

Lin Tao wasn’t worried about what she might try.

“Lin Tao.” Tang Yushi was close to a hundred and seventy centimeters — standing in front of Lin Tao like this, she was quite imposing. She pressed her lips together. “About what happened at the basketball court — I was in the wrong.”

“?…” That was not how this was supposed to go.

Lin Tao shifted her weight back against the railing, putting a bit more space between them and making the height difference less overwhelming. She narrowed her eyes. “So you’re saying you did it on purpose?”

Tang Yushi hadn’t expected her to respond with that particular logic. She paused for a few seconds, and then — as though something had come to her — she nodded. “Yes. I did it on purpose.”

Lin Tao didn’t know why this person had given in so easily. She studied her face for a moment, then said calmly, “I’ve always been a little puzzled — did I ever do something to you? Because ever since I started here in first year, you’ve had it out for me.”

“But I got tired of thinking about it. The answer doesn’t really matter much to me anymore.”

Lin Tao looked out over the railing below, her expression unusually serious. “I’m hoping what happened at the basketball court was the first and last time. Maybe you think I’m not the type to hold a grudge.”

“But I’m not dumb enough to let someone walk all over me and not fight back.” She smiled — though the smile was cool. “I let it go back then because we were in the same class and I didn’t want to blow things up.”

There was also another reason: Lin Tao’s homeroom teacher at the time had been friends with her parents. Lin Tao had grown up independently and didn’t like involving her parents in these kinds of things.

In their first year, Tang Yushi had quietly targeted Lin Tao over and over — building alliances within the class, drawing in the girls from Lin Tao’s dorm and the one next door into her circle.

Lin Tao didn’t board at school, and the only friend she was close to was Meng Xin. The early days had indeed been a little quiet, but she hadn’t minded.

Later, the class had organized a spring outing, and over the course of a full day, Lin Tao — despite not being particularly outgoing — had somehow charmed her way into the rest of the girls’ group through sheer force of personality.

Truthfully, Lin Tao had never really taken Tang Yushi that seriously. It all came down to jealousy, plain and simple — of how good she was. Excellent at everything, pretty, and a strong student to boot.

Who wouldn’t be jealous of that?

Everyone would be.

Lin Tao’s indifference had given Tang Yushi the impression she was a pushover. Add to that the soft, easygoing air she gave off, and Tang Yushi had naturally assumed Lin Tao wouldn’t dare do anything to her.

So on that day at the court, she hadn’t thought much about consequences. She’d just picked up the ball and hurled it at her.

But then, afterward…

Tang Yushi thought of the time she’d gone to try to make peace with Jiang Yan, only to end up the one left in an embarrassing position. Stung by the memory, she shot back without thinking, “Fine — throwing the ball at you was wrong, I apologize.”

“But that was between the two of us. What gave you the right to send Jiang Yan after me?” Tang Yushi’s anger grew as she spoke. “Do you think just because you’ve got someone backing you up now, you’re something special?”

Lin Tao was genuinely floored. This girl’s brain worked differently from most people’s.

She gave a short, contemptuous laugh. “If you hadn’t come after me first, would he have gone looking for trouble with you? Before you start pointing fingers at others, maybe take a good look at yourself.”

Tang Yushi’s fury peaked. “You think Jiang Yan will always be on your side?!”

Lin Tao was about to answer with a sharp retort when, from behind her, a lazy voice suddenly cut in.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Author’s note: Jiang Yan’s role today: backing up his future wife.

Late update tonight, full red envelopes.