In golden October, after the Golden Week holiday, the campus of University A returned to its liveliness.

Monday afternoon elective class—just seconds before the bell rang, Xue Jing and Lin Anran arrived at the classroom breathlessly, barely making it on time.

Without Shi Sui, the two of them slept like the dead, not hearing their alarms ring several times. In the month since school started, they had been late three times.

“Bang!” Xue Jing set down her bag, patting her chest and sighing in relief: “Thank goodness, we made it.”

Su Han, who had been saving seats for them for a long time, moved aside slightly and snorted coldly: “If you’re this late again, I won’t save seats for you. Go sit in the front row.”

“Don’t be so petty,” Xue Jing said while tossing several small snacks beside Su Han.

“Each one has two hundred calories,” Su Han glanced at the calorie count with disgust. “I won’t eat them.”

“If you won’t eat them, don’t take them,” Xue Jing knew she was being tsundere.

Su Han huffed: “Once you give them out, they’re mine. I’ll take them if I want to.”

“Tch, what behavior.”

The two went back and forth bickering.

Lin Anran’s head buzzed from the noise. Covering her ears, she sighed once again: “I miss Sui Sui so much.”

Originally, Shi Sui would sit between them and could always coax these two sisters with just a few words.

Most importantly, when Shi Sui was around, they wouldn’t be late.

The dorm was always basically clean, and the hot water kettle was always full.

Shi Sui had also raised several small green plants on the balcony. The green leaves stretched vigorously in the wind, full of life, making one feel refreshed just looking at them.

Now the plants had yellowed too. No matter how she and Xue Jing watered and fertilized them, they couldn’t bring them back to life.

These four words immediately changed Xue Jing’s expression. She heavily set down her pencil case and said coolly: “Don’t mention her. Once she went abroad, she disappeared completely, never contacting us again. She never considered us friends at all.”

Hearing this, Su Han, beside them, turned to look at her, parting her lips as if to say something, when the class bell rang.

Unhurried footsteps mixed in, gradually approaching.

To save seats for Xue Jing and the others, Su Han had domineeringly occupied this entire back row, which happened to leave one empty seat beside her.

Someone slowly sat down next to her.

Su Han had a bad premonition as she turned her head. After meeting Yan Tingli’s half-smiling eyes looking at her, her scalp tightened, and she reflexively moved backward, pressing directly against Xue Jing.

“Long time no see,” he said as if he hadn’t noticed her defensive body language, his lips curving upward in greeting. “Su Beautiful.”

From this teasing “Beautiful,” Su Han read no trace of praise.

Instead, it carried a strange, cold mockery.

The teacher had already started lecturing on stage, and the surroundings were bright with daylight.

Su Han forced herself to calm down, ignoring his small talk and looking straight ahead at the blackboard.

But Xue Jing, beside her, unaware of the truth, glanced at Yan Tingli and turned to nudge Su Han gossipily, whispering: “Oh my god, did you succeed? Is he coming to pursue you now?”

Su Han closed her eyes in pain: “…”

Yes, he’s coming to take my life.

Fortunately, throughout the entire class, Yan Tingli made no extra moves.

He sat there exceptionally quietly, his breathing so shallow it was almost inaudible.

Su Han couldn’t help but steal a glance from the corner of her eye.

She saw his frost-snow pale complexion and lips that showed no trace of blood.

Is he not sick?

She was somewhat shocked.

A breakup took away half his life?

Seeming to sense her scrutiny, Yan Tingli slowly turned his face and revealed a gentle smile.

So scary.

Su Han shuddered violently.

Is he going to hunt me down?

Su Han became more panicked the more she thought about it. Unable to sit still, she even ran to the bathroom during the short break to calm down.

After she left, there was an empty seat in the middle.

“Long time no see, Student Xue.” Suddenly being addressed, Xue Jing put down her water cup. “…Hm?”

She felt somewhat surprised. It seemed Yan Tingli liked art, choosing courses from their department for two consecutive semesters.

Yan Tingli smiled at her and asked in a normal tone: “Where’s Shi Sui? You used to always attend class together, but I don’t see her anymore.”

At the mention of Shi Sui, Xue Jing’s expression dimmed: “She went abroad for an exchange.”

“Really? Where did she go?”

“England.”

“Oh.” He propped his chin, asking as if very curious: “Why would she choose England?”

“I don’t know. We found it strange too.”

“Oh? Didn’t you ask for the reason?”

“After she left, we haven’t been in contact at all. She’s not using her old WeChat either. She probably changed her number. We can’t contact her even if we wanted to.”

Yan Tingli’s lips curved in a cold arc: “How heartless.”

Although Xue Jing was also sad, she didn’t want others to speak ill of Shi Sui, so she explained: “Maybe there’s some reason. Sui Sui isn’t that kind of person.”

“Is that so?” He lowered his eyes, his tone light. “When she chose schools, didn’t she discuss it with you?”

“She did.” Lin Anran, also finding Shi Sui’s sudden disappearance very strange, couldn’t help but interject: “But none of us expected her to go to England, because initially she was pre-selecting American schools.”

“America?” His eyebrows raised slightly.

“Right. Didn’t Sui Sui also say she liked California’s sunshine?” Lin Anran remembered something and asked Xue Jing, “So why did she go to England? Did she tell you?”

As soon as the words fell, Yan Tingli suddenly let out a laugh.

This laugh carried a certain trembling pleasure that made even Xue Jing look up involuntarily.

She watched his slender fingers tap the desk rhythmically while he murmured thoughtfully: “California, California?”

His lip curve also widened, with a kind of calm celebration.

He suddenly stood up, his eyes also curved, saying methodically: “Thank you both.”

They saved him a lot of trouble.

Otherwise, capturing Su Han to threaten Su Ye would inevitably harm the teacher-student relationship.

He walked toward the exit while running, just brushing past Su Han, who was entering.

She stiffened, worried about how Yan Tingli would settle scores with her, when he looked at her with obvious joy: “I’m letting you off, lucky girl.”

Su Han stood puzzled in place for a while.

Returning to the classroom, Xue Jing and Lin Anran both still looked confused.

“What happened?” Su Han asked.

“So strange. We were still talking when Yan—he suddenly just left.”

Suddenly realizing something, Su Han’s pupils shrank as she grabbed Xue Jing’s arm: “What did Yan Tingli just say to you?”

Xue Jing was confused: “…Huh?”

“Did he ask you about Shi Sui?”

“…How did you know?”

Su Han had no time to explain: “What did you tell him?”

Lin Anran then truthfully recounted everything: “What’s wrong? Was there something we shouldn’t have said…”

Su Han took a deep breath: “It’s fine, it has nothing to do with you.”

After all, they knew nothing.

One oversight could ruin everything. With a madman like Yan Tingli, any small loophole could lead to total defeat.

She rubbed her temples.

Thinking of how she had guaranteed to Shi Sui that as long as she didn’t want to be found, Yan Tingli would never find her in this lifetime. Now, in such a short time, he had learned so much.

California. Was Shi Sui really in California?

Su Han’s head throbbed as she endured until class ended, then immediately ran to her father’s office.

She was most loyal to her friends and would fulfill her promises. If in the end she still couldn’t help Shi Sui escape Yan Tingli’s control and had made her flee so far from home, how could she face her?

“What should we do?” Su Han held Su Ye’s arm, saying repeatedly: “Yan Tingli, that psychopath, is too scary. Dad, you absolutely can’t let him find Sui Sui, or who knows what he’ll do.”

Su Ye also frowned upon hearing this: “This kid, I underestimated him.”

“So what do we do, Dad?”

Su Ye calmly patted her hand and sneered: “How many years have I been in America? Can his reach extend further than mine? I have ten thousand ways to make him give up this idea.”

So arrogant. Even if not for that little girl, he had to dampen this kid’s arrogance and sharpness.

Let him know there were plenty of things in this world he couldn’t accomplish and people he couldn’t find.

At least for now.

Yan Tingli needed to properly temper his character before thinking of overcoming his mountain.

If Shi Sui were to describe her study abroad life in California, it would probably be a mixed experiment of “inspiration explosion and caffeine life support.”

At 7:30 AM, she would wake up on the second floor of her dormitory, awakened by sunlight—after all, California never stinted on sunshine.

Lazily putting on a hoodie, she’d go to the campus café.

While waiting for hand-ground coffee, she’d listen to conversations at neighboring tables: “What time did you finish your stop-motion animation last night?”

“…Five o’clock. My protagonist’s head fell off, and it took me three hours to put it back on.”

Shi Sui would smile softly, hearing this.

Her English was now sufficient to understand most English dialogue.

The English Yan Tingli taught leaned toward British style, sometimes with more complex grammar, while American English was simpler and easier to understand.

Realizing she was spacing out, she thought of that person again.

Shi Sui quickly shook her head, dismissing the stray thoughts.

Getting her coffee, she’d pass through corridors where sunlight cast her shadow.

The walls were covered with student-organized “Midnight Inspiration Flash Exhibitions.” Shi Sui would stop curiously to look.

At 9 AM, she’d leisurely enter the classroom. The classes here never lacked inspiration, collisions, and exchanges. Professors would face-to-face, pencil in mouth, wittily critique her assignments: “Your villain’s eyes aren’t quite ‘gently killing the audience’ enough.”

Shi Sui would quickly pull out her sketchbook to revise.

Finishing revisions within half an hour would earn the professor’s generous praise: “Oh, such magnificent work.”

The course schedule here wasn’t as packed as domestic ones, leaning more toward personal creation.

In the afternoons, Shi Sui would sit with her unfinished coffee, diving into her workstation, surrounded by the humming of 3D modeling—like gentle white noise.

The energetic blonde teaching assistant would also suddenly appear, critiquing her work: “Your second-to-last storyboard panel looks constipated.”

Shi Sui had gradually gotten used to this American humor, even progressing from initial embarrassment to calmly responding: “Then I’ll try to push it out.”

Successfully earning the teaching assistant’s disgusted yet speechless look.

The campus evenings were especially lively.

Walking near the restaurant, you could see music society students with cyberpunk styling playing ukuleles.

Late at night, sprawled on the dorm carpet revising storyboards, she could sometimes hear spontaneous saxophone performances from outside the window—probably another insomniac artist going crazy.

Although Shi Sui still spent most of her time alone, every moment of this new life felt colorful and varied.

This sense of never knowing what new and interesting things would happen next kept her always looking forward to life.

Shi Sui’s contact with her parents was once every half month.

She still didn’t dare contact them too much, because during her first few video calls with Li Yin, the interface would freeze intermittently and then automatically cut the connection.

This signal made Shi Sui uneasy.

Later, Su Ye’s words confirmed her unease—if the interface froze, it meant someone was tracking and monitoring, interfering with the signal.

This was what Su Ye told her when he actively contacted her a month after she arrived in California.

On the phone, Shi Sui expressed sincere gratitude to this renowned Professor Su.

But immediately after, Su Ye told her to go out less in the coming month because Yan Tingli had traced her to California.

Su Ye had already contacted people to obscure her enrollment information at the academy and had people release smoke screens, changing her IP location to other states.

But they couldn’t stop Yan Tingli from personally flying to California to conduct carpet searches of every school.

“With his current level of madness,” Su Ye sneered, “he’s capable of such stupid things.”

Shi Sui’s fingers turned cold hearing this.

That suffocating feeling of a comeback swept over her again, as if even California’s sunshine was tainted with gloom.

For the next month, except for necessary weekly courses, Shi Sui stayed indoors.

Additionally, she changed her usual style of dress, bought a blonde wig, and adopted the popular American hottie makeup style on campus, completely different from her previous temperament.

In November, Los Angeles still had abundant sunshine, with only the nights carrying some chill.

Having stayed up late drawing storyboards the night before, on Saturday evening, as the sky darkened, Shi Sui slowly emerged from her residence, yawning as she took the small path to the cafeteria three hundred meters away for food.

Fine rain began falling from the sky. Shi Sui paused, reaching out to catch the cool raindrops.

During non-rainy seasons, California’s monthly rainfall was only twenty millimeters.

Yet it was raining today.

Shi Sui entered the cafeteria, found a corner by the window on the second floor, and ate a tasteless sandwich while lazily looking outside through the glass window.

Suddenly, her gaze froze, and the hair on her neck stood up.

Under the main building, across from the school.

Yan Tingli, in a black jacket, leaned against the wall, doing nothing, just quietly and meticulously standing there watching the crowd.

That was generally the place with the most people at school. No matter where you went, you had to pass through there.

Yan Tingli had lost a lot of weight, and his overall aura was more gloomy.

Probably because his appearance was too striking, and he was standing there in the rain, enthusiastic female students approached to offer umbrellas.

Not knowing what was exchanged, the girl left with an unpleasant expression.

Shi Sui’s hand holding the sandwich trembled slightly.

Her mind also went blank.

Had he still found her?

Shi Sui didn’t dare think further. She pulled her hood down and arranged her wig to cover most of her face, preparing to escape back to the dormitory via the small path.

The sky had almost completely darkened.

Just as Shi Sui was about to leave, looking out again, she saw Yan Tingli slowly move and turn to walk away.

She noticed that it was the direction toward the school gate to leave.

Her movement to return to the dormitory stopped as she slowly realized that Yan Tingli most likely hadn’t found her.

His appearance here also confirmed Su Ye’s words about personally flying to California for a foolish school-by-school search.

Laborious and thankless.

Hope so slim, it was nearly nonexistent.

To drive him to this point, he must have run out of options.

Shi Sui stared with wide eyes.

Watching him step by step disappear into the intersecting crowd, becoming a small dot.

Until she could no longer see him.

Shi Sui blinked gently.

She felt warm liquid unconsciously flowing down, dripping onto the back of her hand.

She vigorously wiped her face.

Returning to the dormitory, her Japanese roommate Mieko saw her and initiated conversation: “Lily, I thought you were still sleeping. You’ve been staying up until the early morning lately and not going out during the day.”

Her previous roommate had moved out to live with her boyfriend, and Mieko had only moved in this month.

Shi Sui had been staying indoors this month, often reversing day and night, so they weren’t very familiar.

She forced herself to perk up: “I woke up early today.”

“When you went out, did you see the vampire knight at the main building?”

Shi Sui’s movements suddenly stopped as she looked at her.

“Let me tell you,” Mieko put her hand beside her cheek, “I encountered a super handsome beautiful boy today, just like a cool vampire from a manga.”

“He stood at the central building all day today. I passed by several times, and he was always there. I couldn’t help but go up and ask if he needed any help.”

Shi Sui’s face was somewhat pale.

“So you two,” she licked her dry lips and asked hoarsely, “what did you talk about?”

“I just introduced myself, then asked what he was doing and how long he’d stay.”

“He said he was looking for a Chinese girl named Shi Sui, asked if I’d heard of her,” Mieko thought for a moment. “He also said he’d only stay until dark because that girl should only go out when the sunlight was just right.”

Shi Sui’s eyelashes trembled lightly, and that continuous dull pain returned to her heart.

Yet it was accompanied by contradictory relief—relief that she had never told anyone her Chinese name.

“I said no.” Mieko continued: “He then described what the girl looked like, asking if I’d seen her.”

“Said she had black hair to her shoulders, with bangs, very fair skin, and big eyes.” Mieko said regretfully, “But I still hadn’t seen her. Then this guy stopped talking to me.”

Shi Sui looked up, staring blankly at her reflection in the mirror.

She had deliberately used darker foundation, drawn upturned eyeliner, and densely layered freckles on her cheeks—completely different from Yan Tingli’s description.

Mieko had only moved in during November and had never seen her previous appearance.

Everything was such a coincidence.

Just by this much, Yan Tingli could have found her.

She lowered her stinging eyes, hiding the shimmer reflected in them.

This time, even heaven was helping her.

Perhaps their fate had finally come to an end.

Shi Sui returned to her room, closed the door, and looked outside through the window.

The rain had stopped, and gentle moonlight streamed in.

He should have left, too.

Safe landing.

Shi Sui said softly in her heart.

“You’ve gone crazy enough.” Su Ye rotated his chair, leisurely facing the young man before him, who looked cold and had lost a significant amount of weight. “Have you calmed down?”

He wanted to ask him.

Have you given up?

Two months of time, using the stupidest method, turning California’s schools upside down, still unable to find the person.

Su Ye almost wanted to laugh out loud.

At twenty, so ignorant of how high the sky was, not giving him a lesson—did he think he could cover the sky with one hand and no one could subdue him?

Yan Tingli looked up, his gaze slowly sweeping toward him.

Then he leaned forward: “Aren’t you afraid I’ll throw Su Han somewhere you can’t find either?”

“That depends on whether you have the ability.” Su Ye didn’t even bother to lift his eyes. “Of course, if you dare do anything, I don’t know what might happen to that little girl Shi Sui.”

Yan Tingli looked at him, coldness in his eyes.

The stubbornness he was forcing himself to maintain had run out of options.

Su Ye saw through it at a glance: “Admit it, you just don’t have any real ability now.”

“The little girl detests you so much that she’d rather leave her homeland than stay. Why force it? She just doesn’t like you. No matter how you try to force it, she won’t like you. She might even be hiding somewhere, watching you search the world, unwilling to appear.”

“Go, go, go,” he waved dismissively. “Leave quickly.”

The gaze falling on him carried bone-chilling coldness.

Su Ye looked up to see his reddened eyes, like a crazed wolf cub.

But his face was pale as paper—he didn’t know which sentence had been most fatal to him.

Watching him leave silently and close the door, the office returned to quiet, and Su Ye finally looked away.

He sneered: “Still can’t subdue you, kid. Practice for a few more years before coming back.”

This year, the capital also had especially heavy rainfall.

Wave after wave of autumn rain fell, temperatures dropping rapidly to freezing point. Even before December, there was a rare snowfall.

The green plants by the windowsill seemed to know they had changed owners. No matter how they were cared for, the leaves gradually yellowed, lifeless.

Yan Tingli seemed to feel nothing, lowering his eyelids and continuing to mechanically spray water and nutrients.

Background music from animated films played.

Because the room was too quiet, the cheerful background produced hollow echoes.

After watering as usual, he returned to the bedroom.

Ping An mischievously stepped on the chair, sniffing at a stack of plane tickets on the desk, playfully chewing up several.

Yan Tingli looked on, picking up the tickets, his emotionless gaze sweeping toward Ping An.

Thinking it had caused trouble, Ping An looked at him with big eyes, ears drooping backward submissively.

But Yan Tingli’s lips slowly curved upward, his finger stroking under the cat’s chin.

“So pitiful,” he said with a smile. “Your mama doesn’t want you anymore.”

Speaking, he lowered his eyes, mechanically tearing up the tickets and throwing the paper scraps on the floor.

Something fell to the floor along with the paper scraps, dripping.

Ping An curiously lowered its head and stuck out its tongue for a taste.

Pah.

Salty and bitter.

Ping An tilted its head, quietly watching him.

Suddenly jumping up, it found a comfortable position on the young man’s lap and lay down, its tail even wrapping around his arm in a comforting circle.

Human, stop being stubborn.

The sadness on your body has already overflowed.

When you can’t hold on anymore, just lean on this cat’s broad chest for a while.