Lin Tao didn’t look too deeply into the matter of Zhou Ming — she only knew that his home situation was unusual. She wasn’t the gossiping type by nature, so she didn’t pay much further attention to the details.

After Jiang Yan resolved things with Zhou Ming, he had no other business to attend to and planned to head straight back to the internet café. Lin Tao and Meng Xin were just about done with their shopping, so they simply went along with him.

At the café, Meng Xin and Lin Tao went directly up to a private room on the second floor.

Jiang Yan put their shopping bags in his room, then came downstairs and did a sweep of the main floor. No sign of Zhou Ming.

He walked to the front counter, rapped his knuckles on the surface, and asked without looking up: “Have you seen Zhou Ming?”

The attendant Little Seven shook his head blankly, his head of golden, fluffy hair bobbing with the motion. “Didn’t see him. Didn’t he go out with you?”

“I told him to come back ahead of me.” Jiang Yan stood at the counter and took out his phone to call Zhou Ming. What came through was a mechanical female voice: “The number you have dialed is currently switched off…”

He frowned slightly. He tapped the phone against the desk a few times. “Let me know when he gets back.”

“Sure, got it.” Little Seven scratched his hair and laughed, teasing: “Boss, you really do look out for that Zhou Ming kid.”

“He’s a little squirt.” Jiang Yan didn’t add anything more. “Get back to work.”

He put away his phone and headed back to his room. While taking a break from writing papers, he sent Lin Tao a message:

Come here.

Lin Tao must have been occupied with something — several minutes passed before she replied:

Come where?

My room.

In broad daylight, you’re calling me — a girl — to your room. What exactly are your intentions?

……

He didn’t reply.

A few minutes later, Lin Tao came upstairs anyway.

She stood at the side of the desk, idly flipping through the books on it. “What did you want?”

Jiang Yan leaned back against his chair, one arm resting along the desk edge, a practice paper beneath it. “Come study.”

“……” Lin Tao’s hand stilled on the book. “Are you serious?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” Jiang Yan pulled out a stack of papers from the side. “These are the papers you wrote last week. I went through them last night and marked all the mistakes. Have a look.”

Lin Tao was astounded. She reached over and pressed a hand to his forehead. “Are you alright? You didn’t used to be like this.”

Who in the world spent their time dating their girlfriend by making her do papers together?

Jiang Yan smiled and set the papers down beside him. He asked quietly, “What was I like before?”

“Just very uninterested in studying — a look that said the whole world was none of your business.” Lin Tao half-leaned against the desk edge, with an air of sincere concern. “Boyfriend, I’m kindly telling you — that’s not how you do a relationship.”

“Then how does one do it?” Jiang Yan said. “Teach me. This is my first time. I’m not very experienced.”

Lin Tao thought and thought and couldn’t come up with a good answer. She dug in stubbornly anyway: “Either way, not like how you’re doing it.”

Jiang Yan let out a slow “oh,” his smile lazy. “Then I’ll change my approach.”

His words had barely landed when he suddenly reached out and grabbed her wrist, gave a gentle pull — and before she could react, she was drawn into his arms and settled onto his lap. His arm circled around her waist. His warm lips brushed against the curve of her ear. He blew softly. “Like this. Better?”

“……” Lin Tao went rigid all over. Her ear flushed red almost immediately. Her voice trembled slightly. “This, this, this, this — this approach doesn’t seem too great either.”

Jiang Yan laughed quietly against the hollow of her neck. His breath was warm and deep. “Girlfriend is being too hard to please.”

Lin Tao, at a loss, held onto his wrist. “Can you let me up first?”

“No.”

“……”

Lin Tao accepted her fate. She let him hold her like that for a few minutes.

Outside, the light was full and generous — spilling into the room without restraint. Beyond the window was the busy street, and on both sides of it, a row of tall birch trees stood straight and upright, with towering buildings rising beyond. A stream of people passing in every direction.

Lin Tao’s gaze drifted to the stack upon stack of physics materials on his desk — everything from targeted multiple-choice drilling booklets to official past papers from the Physics Olympiad, all varieties — practice papers, textbooks, exercise books, physics reference guides, a scattered miscellany of everything imaginable.

She pulled one reference guide out at random and asked quietly, “Why do you love physics so much?”

“My father loved it.” Jiang Yan straightened up slightly and said in an offhand tone: “He told me — physics can measure the beauty of heaven and earth, and analyze the principle of all things. A human life spans only a few decades, but physics can see from the origin of the world all the way to its end. It can explain everything.”

Lin Tao listened, genuinely struck.

“Mathematics is abstract. But physics is not. It is visible, tangible — bound tightly to the world. It is far more approachable than mathematics. And compared to abstract things, I prefer what I can actually reach and feel. Like physics.”

Jiang Yan smiled. He reached up and lightly pinched her cheek.

“And like you.”

Lin Tao had no idea how a perfectly good academic discussion had once again become a scene out of Jiang someone’s personal playbook for winning over girls.

But she had to admit — compared to other versions of Jiang Yan, this one was the version she found hardest to resist.

Focused and earnest, with a clear sense of what he wanted and what he could hold on to.

He told Lin Tao that if you dropped all of society into the frame of physics, it was like a vast and boundless universe — and a person was just one imperceptibly small particle within it.

A single particle could not create much of a stir. But a group of them — a collection of particles — produced something entirely different.

A person only lives once. It would be too much of a waste not to understand the world they lived in.

Compared to Jiang Yan, who lived with such clarity, Lin Tao felt that these past ten-odd years of her own life had been rather muddled. She’d never thought about what she should choose, or what she wanted to do. She just drifted from one day to the next — seeming free and easy on the surface, but a mess inside.

These thoughts led her to a long silence. She sighed softly. “I envy you sometimes.”

Jiang Yan toyed absently with her fingers, his gaze lowered. “Envy me for what?”

“Living with such clarity. Knowing what you want.”

“That’s because I had no choice. If I’d had a choice, I’d have preferred to live in a daze.” Jiang Yan said, “I envy you sometimes too.”

Lin Tao looked at him, curious. “What do you envy about me?”

Jiang Yan let go of her hand. The corner of his mouth lifted, and he said in an unhurried, measured tone: “Envy that you have such an excellent boyfriend.”

“……”

Lin Tao spent the afternoon in Jiang Yan’s room.

When Jiang Yan finished a paper and pinched the bridge of his nose, he turned to see Lin Tao sitting on the sofa reading. He stood up and walked over. “Hungry?”

“A bit.”

He reached out and tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear. “Let’s go eat then.”

“Sure. I’ll go get Meng Xin.” Lin Tao stood up quickly, put on her shoes, and asked without thinking, “What should we eat tonight?”

“What do you feel like?” Jiang Yan lowered his head and searched his phone for places to eat.

“I can’t think of anything right now. Let’s decide when we get there.” Lin Tao slipped her shoes on. “I’ll get Meng Xin first. See you downstairs.”

“Okay.”

After she left, Jiang Yan went into the bathroom and washed his face, then went straight downstairs.

The weekend evening made the café livelier than usual. Jiang Yan stood on the step and scanned the floor, then made his way toward the front counter.

“Zhou Ming still not back?”

Little Seven looked up from his screen, pulling off his headset. “Doesn’t seem so. Haven’t seen him all afternoon.”

Jiang Yan had a nagging feeling something was off. He called Zhou Ming again — still switched off.

At this point Lin Tao and Meng Xin came down from upstairs. Seeing his expression, Lin Tao asked, “What’s wrong?”

Jiang Yan glanced at her. “Zhou Ming isn’t back yet.”

“Didn’t he leave before us?” Lin Tao hesitated. “Could he have gone home first?”

Jiang Yan shook his head. “He wouldn’t.”

Just then Guan Che came through the front door with Hu Hanghang and the others. Hearing Jiang Yan’s words, Guan Che suggested: “Why don’t a few of us go check his place? He still has a little sister at home. It’s Saturday, she should be home.”

The seven of them headed out without delay toward Xinghua Alley.

Xinghua Alley was close to the neighboring street — far livelier than the quiet Lihua Alley, with lights twinkling even into the night.

Zhou Ming’s house was the last unit in the alley.

When the group arrived, the door was locked, and the lights were off inside. It appeared no one was home.

Jiang Yan wasn’t satisfied. He knocked again. “Zhou Ming?”

The sound drew a neighbor from across the way, who peeked out a head. “You’re looking for Ming?”

Lin Tao answered for them: “Yes. We had plans with him today, but he never showed. We waited all afternoon and he never came. Auntie, did you happen to see him today?”

The neighbor shook her head and let out a sigh. She set down what she was holding, came out from her home, and said: “Ming’s little sister had an accident. He’s at the hospital.”

Guan Che followed up: “What happened to his sister?”

The neighbor seemed to find it hard to bring up, hesitated for a few seconds, then said: “Ming’s mother had a boyfriend before — he used to come around often. They broke it off last year after a fight. Today that man somehow got hold of their house key. He came back in the afternoon. Little Yue saw the door open and thought her brother was back — so she went inside on her own.”

“That man is not a decent person. He couldn’t find anything worth money in the house, and he was drunk — so he went after the little girl.”

The expressions of the seven standing nearby shifted instantly.

Lin Tao couldn’t help clenching her hand into a fist. She didn’t dare picture what had happened.

“Ming came home right in the middle of it.” The neighbor sighed and didn’t go into further detail. “If you’re looking for them, try the Xida Affiliated Hospital up ahead.”

“Thank you, Auntie.”

The seven didn’t waste a moment. They turned and ran back out through the alley.

The night was deep and vivid, and the evening wind rose up in the wake of running figures. The expressions on all seven faces were different, but every pair of eyes carried the same heaviness.

Something like this was entirely outside anything any of them had encountered before.

Perhaps it was from this moment that they truly began to understand — the world was not as clean as it looked. In places that couldn’t be seen, it was perhaps dirtier than anyone had imagined.

The Xida Affiliated Hospital wasn’t far from Xinghua Alley. By the time the seven arrived, both Zhou Ming and his little sister Zhou Yue had been brought out of the operating room.

The hallway outside the ward was full of people — some in police uniforms, some residents from the nearby neighborhood.

The seven didn’t approach. They stood at the corner, listening to the sounds nearby.

“…That man had been coming around her place for a long time…”

“Her mother doesn’t manage things and keeps making trouble.”

……

“At first there was no sound. Then we heard Ming cry out…”

“Poor kids, both covered in blood.”

……

It seemed that a statement was being taken from a neighbor at the scene. The neighbor’s fragmented description gradually built a picture in the minds of the seven standing at the corner — a picture that grew darker by the moment.

Guan Che couldn’t hold back. He slammed his palm hard against the railing along the wall. The anger he couldn’t contain burst out. “Damn. I swear—”

Lin Tao glanced at Jiang Yan, who stood in silence. She reached out and took hold of his hand.

The two looked at each other. Nothing was said.

The silence turned heavy.

After a while, the police seemed to finish taking the statement. They gathered their things and left with the relevant parties. Only a few neighbors remained sitting outside the ward.

Those who stayed were all women of a certain age. They sat in the hallway and talked through the events of the day, sighing with every word.

The seven walked over.

One of the aunties had run into Jiang Yan once before when he walked Zhou Ming home, and had heard from Zhou Ming that Jiang Yan was the owner of the place where he worked part-time. She had some recollection of him. “Aren’t you Ming’s boss?”

Jiang Yan offered the most composed smile he could manage. “Hello, Auntie.”

She looked at the seven people standing before her and was clearly surprised. “All of you are…?”

“Well, the thing is — Zhou Ming was supposed to come to work today, but he never showed. We were worried something might have happened, so we went to his place first. The neighbor there told us he was here.” Jiang Yan pressed his lips together. “How is he doing now?”

The auntie shook her head. Her hand raised to dab at the corner of her eye, and her voice quickly turned choked. “Ming himself isn’t seriously hurt. The main concern is Yue……”

Zhou Yue was six years old this year. She’d been raised on the collective generosity of the neighborhood, growing up in the alleyways — a little girl who was soft and pretty like a painted doll, gentle and well-behaved, everyone’s darling.

No one had ever imagined something like this could happen. Watching such a small child go through something like this — it cut right through the hearts of all these adults, paining and grieving them.

“…That worthless animal. Something like him — why hasn’t heaven struck him down.” The auntie spoke through tears that came louder, and those around her quietly wiped their own eyes. “Yue is only six years old. Six. How is she supposed to live after this?!”

The auntie beat her chest, tears streaming. “Heaven, you’re supposed to watch over good people! Her father was such a kindhearted, upright man, and you took him so soon — can’t you at least protect his children?!”

The gut-wrenching cries echoed through the corridor.

The seven standing beside her all had reddened eyes, unable to bear listening any longer. They left their contact information with the auntie, then returned to the corner they’d been standing in before.

Hu Hanghang punched the wall. His voice was rough. “Absolute scum!”

Song Yuan looked at him, then leaned back against the wall. “What do we do now?”

“First let’s find out which station that piece of trash is being held at. Then I’ll ask my dad to get Ming a decent lawyer and make sure he rots in prison.” Guan Che looked at Jiang Yan. “What do you think?”

Jiang Yan loosened the fist he’d been holding. He reached up and rubbed the center of his brow. His voice carried no discernible emotion. “Let’s head back first.”

Xu Yichuan looked at him, hesitating. “And this situation……”

“I’m not going to leave it alone.”

Jiang Yan meant it. He truly had no intention of ignoring this — he just wanted to hear what Zhou Ming had to say first. After all, this was their family matter, and the nature of what had happened was especially sensitive. Zhou Ming’s thoughts mattered.

The seven of them didn’t linger at the hospital.

The whole thing had been sudden and deeply disturbing.

The plan to have a meal together had dissolved without a trace. After leaving the hospital, they each went their own ways home.

Jiang Yan and Guan Che left together.

Lin Tao knew his heart was troubled, so she didn’t follow.

The seven split into three groups.

Lin Tao and Meng Xin got into a taxi first.

The car cut through the busy streets. People coming and going. The brilliant lights of tall buildings flashed past outside the window. Even the air was warm.

Lin Tao rolled down the window all the way. Wind rushed in and filled the car — and even though it was warm air, it felt to her like it carried blades, cutting against her cheeks.

And her heart. Cold and aching.

Meng Xin beside her let out a long, slow breath. Neither of them could think of anything to say. They didn’t know what there was to say.

The car arrived quickly.

Lin Tao and Meng Xin parted at the intersection. When she got home, Fang Yisong was also there — in the study, with her laptop on the living room coffee table.

Hearing the door open, Fang Yisong came out of the study. Her smile was warm as she saw Lin Tao. “You’re home. There’s soup on the table. Go wash your hands and have some.”

Lin Tao lowered her head to change her shoes, drained of energy. “Okay.”

Fang Yisong sensed something was off. She walked over and said quietly, “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell somewhere?”

“It’s nothing.” Lin Tao said. “Just ran into something upsetting.”

Fang Yisong led her to the dining table, lifted the lid of the clay pot on the table, ladled a bowl of soup, and sat down with her. “What happened? Are you comfortable talking to Mom about it?”

Lin Tao pressed her lips together. Her fingers held the ceramic spoon, idly stirring the soup in the bowl. She looked up at Fang Yisong. “I ran into a young boy today. He’s only twelve. He’s been working a part-time job — his mother doesn’t look after things and she stole the money he earned. But it was sorted out — he got the money back.”

Fang Yisong said nothing. She simply took Lin Tao’s hand in hers.

“His mother had a former boyfriend. They broke up. But today he came back — to their home.” Lin Tao’s thoughts were jumbled, and her voice began to break. “The boy has a little sister. She’s only six. His mother’s former boyfriend assaulted her this afternoon.”

Tears dropped into the soup bowl.

Lin Tao felt something pressing tightly against her chest.

That auntie’s wrenching, gut-deep cries seemed to still be ringing in her ears.

She’s only six years old.

Still so small.

Why did something like this happen to her.

As a woman who had fought her way through years in the business world, Fang Yisong was less shocked by this than most. The world had many places that couldn’t be seen clearly — and in those places, the dark and the filthy were common, things that couldn’t bear the light. There was no shortage of them.

“The fact that you feel sad means you still have a kind heart.” She patted Lin Tao’s hand and didn’t pile on with more words of comfort. “But this isn’t the moment for sadness. If you truly feel for her, then you need to find a way to get justice for her, and make sure the wrongdoer faces the law.”

“If the child needs anything, tell Mom right away.” Fang Yisong pulled out a tissue and dabbed at Lin Tao’s tears. “Alright now. Stop crying.”

Lin Tao took a deep breath. “I’d like to ask you to help them find a lawyer.”

“Good. Leave it to Mom.” Fang Yisong reached up and gently stroked her head. “Now drink your soup. And get to bed on time.”

“Mm. Thank you, Mom.”

Fang Yisong shook her head with a smile and said nothing more.

Lin Tao didn’t have much of an appetite either way. She finished her bowl quickly, then went back to her room.

Hu Hanghang and the others were still talking in the group chat:

Hu Hanghang: I got back and asked my parents — with this kind of severity, that trash will probably get fifteen years or so.

Xu Yichuan: Fifteen years? Someone like him, the death penalty isn’t enough.

Song Yuan: I wonder how that little girl is doing now…

Hu Hanghang: Don’t even say it — my mom just heard me describe it and burst into tears — she’s going to go to the hospital in person tomorrow to visit.

Hu Hanghang: This world is seriously rotten. What kind of scum exists these days.

……

The group vented and cursed for a while, then went offline.

What happened today was like a bomb dropped into the hearts of all seven of them — the reverberations would not settle for a long time.

Lin Tao sent Jiang Yan a message on WeChat, then searched online for related case precedents and legal outcomes. She was still at it when dawn came, and only then lay down to sleep.

Fang Yisong moved quickly. By the next day she had already secured a lawyer — someone who worked at the best law firm in Xixi City, specialized in cases of this type, and held a very high reputation in the field.

Before Lin Tao reached out to him, she went first to the internet café to find Jiang Yan.

She hadn’t expected Zhou Ming to also be there. A bandage was wrapped around his forehead. His eyes were red. He was curled up in a small heap beside Guan Che, clearly out of it.

The ashtray on the table was full of cigarette butts. The window had not been opened, and the smoke lingered without dispersing.

Lin Tao knocked on the door.

Jiang Yan, buried in the sofa, looked up. Seeing it was her, he quickly stood. His shirt was wrinkled, and his voice sounded slightly hoarse. “Why are you here?”

“Something came up.” Lin Tao walked in and sat down in an empty space.

Jiang Yan crossed the room in a few long strides to the window and pushed it open. The wind outside poured in, and the smoke in the room quickly thinned.

Lin Tao glanced at Zhou Ming, thought for a moment, and decided not to speak in front of him. She nudged Jiang Yan’s shin with her foot. “Come outside with me for a minute.”

“Sure.” Jiang Yan glanced sideways at Zhou Ming as well. “Guan Che, take Ming out to eat something — he’s had nothing to eat since yesterday.”

Guan Che knew the two of them had things to discuss. He nodded and gave Zhou Ming a pat on the shoulder. “Come on, Ming. Let’s go.”

The slight boy didn’t react at first. Then he got up and, head still lowered, followed Guan Che out.

The air in the room still held faint traces of smoke.

Jiang Yan brought Lin Tao to his own room.

“Why did Zhou Ming come in? Is his sister alright?” Lin Tao thought of how Zhou Ming had looked just now, and couldn’t help another sigh.

Jiang Yan pressed the tips of his fingers to his brow. “Not great.”

Neither physically nor psychologically — Zhou Yue’s condition couldn’t be described as good by any measure.

Lin Tao frowned. “And how do you all plan to handle this?”

“Zhou Ming said he didn’t want to make too much of a scene, but he also doesn’t want to let that man get away with it.” Jiang Yan stretched out his legs. “Guan Che and I were going to look for a lawyer. His dad is helping track one down.”

“No need.” Lin Tao said. “I went home last night and told my mom about it. She found a lawyer for us.”

Jiang Yan’s hand stilled. Lin Tao looked at him, a little uncertain. “Either way, you were both going to look. My mom has been in the business world a long time — she knows more people. You’re not upset with me, are you?”

“Why would I be — I’m grateful.” Jiang Yan touched the tip of his nose. “I’m just surprised that you’d be this concerned about Zhou Ming’s situation.”

“You said you wouldn’t leave Zhou Ming’s situation alone.” Lin Tao licked the corner of her mouth. “You’re my boyfriend. What matters to you matters to me. I’m not going to leave it alone either.”

A warmth rose in Jiang Yan’s chest. He hooked her fingers in his and held them. His voice came out soft and low: “Thank you, sweetheart.”

Lin Tao’s face heated up beyond her control again. She quickly steered the conversation. “So should I ask my mom to arrange a time for us to meet with the lawyer?”

“Sure.”

Whatever the next steps, they needed to meet first and understand the situation.

Lin Tao called Fang Yisong.

She quickly made the arrangements and sent the details to Lin Tao:

Three o’clock this afternoon. Harmony Tea House, on Hexi Road.

The tea house was not far from Fang Yisong’s office. When Lin Tao and the others met with the lawyer that afternoon, she was present as well.

The lawyer’s surname was Liang — his given name, one character: Wei. A graduate of Qinghua University’s law school. Clear features, refined in bearing, wearing a pair of gold-rimmed glasses. He gave the impression of being scholarly and courteous.

He heard the full account of events from Jiang Yan, considered it for a moment, then raised his gaze to Zhou Ming. “What kind of punishment do you want him to receive?”

Zhou Ming froze.

Lin Tao froze too.

In fact, at first Lin Tao had not wanted to bring him along. Having to recount the painful details again in front of a stranger — wasn’t that in itself a kind of torment? But Fang Yisong said the lawyer had specifically requested that Zhou Ming be brought, so Lin Tao had no choice but to follow through.

Liang Wei looked at him. His expression was gentle. “It’s alright. Say what you feel. Speaking your mind isn’t against any law.”

Zhou Ming lowered his head. He was quiet for a moment. Then, biting down on his teeth, he said: “I want him to die.”

Lin Tao’s grip tightened in an instant.

It wasn’t surprising that he’d feel that way — anyone who went through something like this would have the same thought. But Zhou Ming was still so young. His life had barely begun — in fact, it could be said it hadn’t fully begun yet. If he carried this weight pressing down on him forever, it wouldn’t be good for him, and it wouldn’t be good for Zhou Yue either.

Liang Wei seemed to have anticipated that Zhou Ming would say exactly this. He leaned forward and took hold of the boy’s hand. “Good. Then let’s work for that together. We’ll use the law, we’ll use the right approach, to bring the wrongdoer to justice — to get both you and your sister a proper outcome. Can you do that?”

Zhou Ming looked up at him. Tears gathered quickly in his eyes. He raised his hand, wiped them away, and nodded hard. “Yes.”

Lin Tao watched the exchange between the two of them, and suddenly understood why Liang Wei had insisted that Zhou Ming be brought along.

After something like this, a seed of hatred would inevitably be planted in Zhou Ming’s heart — germinating and taking root in a place no one could see. If it wasn’t addressed, another tragedy might follow.

What Zhou Ming needed now was to be guided in the right direction, so that another disaster could be prevented.

After the brief exchange, Guan Che and Jiang Yan left with Zhou Ming first. Lin Tao stayed behind with Fang Yisong.

Liang Wei lifted his teacup and took a sip, then remembered to add: “Once the case is resolved, make sure to bring the children to see a professional psychologist for counseling. Something like this will leave them with serious impact and lasting psychological damage.”

Lin Tao nodded. “Understood. Thank you, Lawyer Liang.”

“Not at all.” Liang Wei set down his cup. “Also, when you have time, arrange for me to visit the hospital and see Zhou Yue. There are certain details I need to understand from her side.”

Hearing this, Lin Tao was hesitant. “Zhou Yue — she……”

Liang Wei understood her concern and reassured her: “You don’t need to worry. I know how to approach this carefully. And Zhou Yue’s testimony is important — she is the direct victim.”

Lin Tao pressed her lips together and nodded. “Alright. I understand.”

Liang Wei gave a small smile, then turned the conversation to other matters with Fang Yisong. A while later, he said he had things to attend to, and left first.

The time had just passed six o’clock.

Lin Tao accompanied Fang Yisong for dinner before heading back, and along the way packed up some dishes to bring to Jiang Yan and the others at the café.

When she arrived at the café, Jiang Yan and the group hadn’t returned yet.

Lin Tao left the food in the small sitting area, sent him a message, and then went upstairs to a room.

She’d stayed up late the night before and gotten up early in the morning. After a whole day of running around, she was both exhausted and drowsy. She had barely sat down on the sofa before she fell asleep.

After Jiang Yan and Guan Che left the tea house with Zhou Ming, they went directly to the Xixi Municipal People’s Hospital — Zhou Yue had been transferred there that morning from the affiliated hospital.

When they arrived, Hu Hanghang, Xu Yichuan, and Song Yuan were already standing outside the ward.

Inside the ward, Hu Hanghang’s mother Li Su had brought personally made chicken soup to visit Zhou Yue. One of the neighborhood aunties was in there feeding it to her.

Jiang Yan looked through the small glass window in the door. The little girl’s face was still bruised and not fully healed — patches of purple still visible — and she was curled up against the auntie, looking like a frightened little rabbit who had had all the courage startled out of her.

He let out a quiet sigh and gave Zhou Ming a pat on the shoulder. “You go in and be with your sister. We’ll stay out here.”

Since the incident, Zhou Yue had shown extreme aversion to all males other than Zhou Ming. If forced into contact, she would even lose control and scream. To protect her emotional state, all personnel arranged by the hospital and the police station who needed to interact with her were women.

Jiang Yan and the others made sure not to come into direct contact with her.

The group walked to the smoking area at the end of the corridor. Guan Che reached into his pocket for his cigarettes and lighter, lit one, and held it.

“So what did the lawyer say?” Hu Hanghang asked. “Can they get the death penalty for that trash?”

Guan Che took a drag and let out a breath of smoke. “Nothing specific yet. Just got the facts of the case down — we’ll have to wait and see what comes next.”

“So damn infuriating.”

Xu Yichuan and the others hadn’t seen Zhou Yue the night before. Today was their first look — seeing the bruises and marks visible on the little girl’s face and arms, the fury and heartbreak were hard to contain.

Jiang Yan let his eyes drop. Something suddenly occurred to him. “Has Zhou Ming’s mother come by today?”

“His mother?” Song Yuan was visibly startled. His voice went up a notch. “They have a mother? I’d completely assumed they were orphans.”

“……”

Song Yuan wasn’t being sarcastic on purpose — it was genuinely the case that since the two siblings’ ordeal, not a single family member had shown up at the hospital. Let alone their own mother.

Jiang Yan’s brow creased. He said nothing.

Xu Yichuan muttered under his breath: “Pair of absolutely heartless people — one outdoing the other in shamelessness. What kind of people are these.”

Guan Che rolled up his sleeve, tilted his head slightly, and looked at Jiang Yan. “Where did you say her mother works?”

Jiang Yan was just about to say, then suddenly registered — they were at the Xixi Municipal People’s Hospital, and the place where Cheng Hualing worked was only one street away.

He rolled up his sleeve too. His eyes went cold. “Nearby. Let’s go take a look.”

Hu Hanghang cracked his knuckles. “Let me see what kind of woman she is — how she can be so utterly heartless.”

“Absolutely doesn’t deserve to be called a mother.”

“Doesn’t deserve it!”

Xu Yichuan said loudly: “Contemptible!”

The other four turned and looked at him. “?”

“No no — I mean, contemptible!” Xu Yichuan said it again and even made a spitting gesture toward the ground.

Jiang Yan, Guan Che, Song Yuan, Hu Hanghang: “……”

Cheng Hualing hadn’t come to work that day. Her coworkers didn’t know where she’d gone — only that she had taken several days off in a row.

“She does this all the time,” said the one talking to them — the woman with the large styled waves from before. “Works a few days, rests a few days. She’ll be back in a while.”

The air inside was overwhelmingly saturated with perfume, enough to make one’s head ache. The peach-pink lighting made eyes swim. The five of them didn’t linger and quickly headed back out.

Hu Hanghang stood at the alley entrance, drew in a deep breath of fresh air, and said, “How does anyone even go there for a massage — aren’t they afraid of being suffocated?”

Xu Yichuan draped an arm over his shoulder and put on the air of someone dispensing worldly wisdom: “Pangpang, you’re still too innocent. Anyone who goes there isn’t going for a simple massage.”

“……”

Song Yuan rolled his eyes at both of them, then looked at Jiang Yan and Guan Che. “What do we do? Has the woman run off?”

Guan Che let out a short derisive laugh. His brow furrowed. “Obviously — she must have got wind of things and slipped away. What kind of person is this.”

Jiang Yan, for his part, didn’t say much. “Let’s go.”

“Right.”

Jiang Yan and Guan Che didn’t plan to go back to the hospital, but since Hu Hanghang’s mother was still there, and the three of them were going in the same direction, the group parted ways at the entrance to the alley.

Guan Che hailed a taxi.

On the way back, Jiang Yan saw a message from Lin Tao that had come in half an hour ago:

Brought you all some food.

He didn’t reply to the message. He just called her directly — voice call — but no one answered.

Jiang Yan didn’t think much of it. He put away his phone and leaned back against the headrest, closing his eyes to rest.

Thirty minutes of road.

Jiang Yan had barely started to feel drowsy when the car stopped. Guan Che paid. They got out. Guan Che brushed off some dust that had gotten onto his sleeve from somewhere, and said, “Come on. Let’s eat first. I’m starving.”

Jiang Yan looked at him. “Head back directly. Lin Tao brought food.”

Guan Che laughed. “That’s the thing about having a girlfriend.”

“……”

The alley in early evening was livelier than it was late at night. All around them, small food stalls had been set up, filling the air with all manner of scents, drifting from one end of the alley to the other.

Passing by a fresh fruit stall, Jiang Yan bought a pre-cut portion of pineapple and watermelon. Out-of-season fruit seemed somehow more vivid in color than usual.

The internet café was as noisy as ever.

Little Seven looked up from his screen and greeted Jiang Yan with a grin. “Yan bro, your girlfriend came — she’s been upstairs waiting for you for a while.”

Guan Che stopped at the counter, knocked on top of Little Seven’s head, and said, “What ‘your girlfriend’? Call her sister-in-law.”

Little Seven covered his head. “Right, right — sister-in-law, sister-in-law.”

Jiang Yan waved a hand, not bothering with them, and went straight upstairs.

The doors of the few rooms on the third floor were all closed. Only the one near the corridor wasn’t pulled fully shut — a thin gap left open, with flickering light showing through from inside.

Jiang Yan stopped at the door. When he pushed it open, he found the lights in the room were off — the flickering had been from the television.

He walked in a little further, set the things he’d brought on the desk, and then saw Lin Tao asleep on the sofa.

The girl was fast asleep. The sofa was a little short, and her legs were propped up on the armrest. One arm was laid across her eyes. Her other hand still held the remote control. Somewhere along the way her chin had grazed something — there was a rather red mark on it.

Jiang Yan moved quietly, careful not to make a sound that might wake her. He picked up a small blanket from the bed and draped it over her. Through the whole thing, Lin Tao didn’t stir.

It was only when he reached to take the remote from her hand that she woke, and in that first instant she instinctively tightened her grip.

She must not have quite surfaced yet. She peered at Jiang Yan through half-closed eyes, one hand still suspended mid-air in the motion of letting him take the remote — the whole picture was bleary and inexplicably endearing.

Something in Jiang Yan’s chest softened. He just crouched right down beside the sofa, took the remote from her hand and set it aside. “Why didn’t you go sleep in the bed?”

“Oh.” Lin Tao rubbed her eyes. Her long, curled lashes were pressed into a slight tangle. She pulled in her legs and sat up. Her voice carried the roughness of someone just woken. “I wasn’t planning to sleep. I just got too tired and ended up dozing off. When did you get back?”

“Just now.”

Lin Tao hugged the blanket and sat upright, rubbing at her stiff, aching shoulder. “The food I brought you is downstairs in the sitting area. Have you eaten?”

Jiang Yan picked up the corner of the blanket that had slipped to the floor. He just settled there sitting on the ground. “Not yet. Not that hungry.”

“That’s not good for you — you’ll hurt your stomach.” Lin Tao said. “Go have a little something anyway. And it’s from a really famous place. The food is all really good.”

“Is it?” Jiang Yan had no particular preferences about food and didn’t especially care.

“Truly.” Lin Tao said very seriously. “Not lying to you — normally you have to book a month in advance to get into this place.”

“Alright then. I’ll go down in a bit.” Jiang Yan leaned sideways and picked up the fruit he’d bought on the way back. “Want some fruit?”

“You bought it?”

“Well, who else?” Jiang Yan said.

Lin Tao turned on the floor lamp beside her, took the opened pineapple from him, and ate a small piece. The sweet-tart flavor filled her mouth — the flesh was full and thick with juice, and at the very end there was a faint note of sourness that made you want another piece.

She ate another one, then speared a piece on a toothpick and held it out to Jiang Yan.

“I’ll pass. You have it.”

“You’re not allergic to pineapple, are you?” Lin Tao said.

Jiang Yan shook his head. “Too sour.”

“This one isn’t sour — it’s really sweet.” Lin Tao offered it again. “Just try it.”

Jiang Yan looked down at the pineapple held close to his lips. He opened his mouth and took a bite.

Lin Tao looked at him. “Sweet, right?”

“Try it yourself.” He frowned.

“It’s sour?” Lin Tao looked puzzled. “That shouldn’t be — I had two pieces and both were sweet. You’re not just unlucky, are you?”

As she said it, she made to take the half-eaten piece he’d left and pop it in her own mouth. “Let me try.”

At that, Jiang Yan reached out and closed his hand around her wrist. He drew her downward gently, and their foreheads came together. Nose to nose. Their warm breath mingled between them.

Close — so close there was nowhere closer.

The young man’s features were striking. His eyes were not the fashionable peach-blossom or phoenix style but the rarer upswept type — double-lidded, the arc of his eyes narrow, widening into something open and sweeping at the outer corners. His irises were amber. At this distance they seemed to brim with feeling, drawing you in. His lashes were dark and distinct, curled and dense.

He leaned forward just slightly.

And then Lin Tao felt warmth settle against her lips.

Warm. Familiar.

Jiang Yan, with his free hand, cupped her chin. His thumb moved slowly. His voice came out muffled, low with suggestion. “Come here.”

“Try it.”

“See if it’s sweet.”