Was there really such a huge gap between men’s and women’s taste?! Tan Yin was dumbfounded. Sure, her strappy heels were uncomfortable, but they were so pretty! While these comfortable flats on her feet now, comfortable as they were, really weren’t much to look at…

Still, however you looked at it, these shoes were exactly what she needed, right when she needed them most.

She quickly thanked her benefactor for his good deed of the day, happily changed into the new shoes, and caught up with Chu Hang.

Once Chu Hang saw her wearing the new shoes, he finally hailed a taxi, and the two of them headed back to school.

On the ride back, Chu Hang clearly wasn’t in the mood to bother with her, keeping his head down over his phone. Tan Yin simply sat quietly too, mentally reviewing the worthwhile design details from the museum they’d toured today. Tomorrow, Chu Hang and Anna would be visiting the art museum, and Tan Yin was quite eager to join as well. When they got out of the car, she glanced at Chu Hang and finally couldn’t hold back. “Chu Hang, can I join you and Anna at the art museum tomorrow? I—”

Unfortunately, halfway through the sentence, Tan Yin turned slightly and noticed Chu Hang had earbuds in — he probably hadn’t heard a word she’d just said. Noticing her staring at him, Chu Hang finally lifted his head, looking at her with a somewhat cool expression.

For some reason, Tan Yin suddenly felt a wave of discouragement. “Never mind, you probably don’t want me tagging along with you and Anna.”

Just as Tan Yin was certain Chu Hang wouldn’t bother responding, he spoke up—

“Your feet are attached to your own body.”

Tan Yin blinked, then registered what he meant, delighted. “So I can come along?”

Chu Hang snorted. “Can I stop you?”

Tan Yin immediately declared, “I promise I’ll be very quiet, so quiet you won’t even notice I’m there!”

“Talk if you want to talk. Otherwise if you go quiet on me, I’ll think you’re plotting some big move against me.”

“…”

Fine, Tan Yin thought, her image in Chu Hang’s mind probably could never be scrubbed clean…

“Don’t be late tomorrow morning.”

Chu Hang tossed off that line, glanced at her once more, then turned and walked away.

Tan Yin called loudly after his retreating figure, “Chu Hang, I swear on my honor, I will absolutely not be late, I will absolutely not drag you and Anna down! I absolutely will not waste anyone’s precious time!”

The next day, Anna got up early. Though the weather had suddenly turned to thunderstorms, her mood was excellent, and she arrived at the art museum ten minutes ahead of schedule. To her surprise, Chu Hang was there even earlier, waiting with a look of practiced calm.

Anna practically ran over to him with a smile. Though culturally, she and Chu Hang came from very different backgrounds — despite being ethnically Chinese, Anna had been born and raised in America as a second-generation immigrant, and at her core, she identified as American. In the States, ABCs had their own social circles, and beyond hanging out with other Chinese-Americans of similar cultural background, they mostly socialized with ABJs and ABKs — Asian-Americans tended to feel more affinity for each other in general, while these second-generation immigrants didn’t really mix much with international students freshly arrived from mainland China. But Chu Hang had been an exception.

Anna still remembered the first time she’d met Chu Hang — he’d been standing at the bottom of the architecture building, asking where the orientation for international exchange students was being held.

His American accent had been fluent and natural, precise and unaccented, his profile sharp and cold-featured. Though fair-skinned, his build was substantial, nothing frail about him — even standing among a crowd of Western students, his height stood out, his shoulders broad, the build of someone suited to American football. And yet there was something about him — that reserved, aloof quality unique to Eastern men, keeping everyone at arm’s length — that made him stand out from the perpetually cheerful, carefree, extroverted crowd of Westerners around him.

In that moment, Anna finally understood that even though she’d never been to China, the Eastern blood in her veins was real — something rooted deep in her bones and genes that couldn’t be changed. She’d found herself unable to resist being drawn to that Eastern quality in him.

Beyond his striking looks, once she got into the professional field with him, Chu Hang impressed Anna even more — his designs always took unconventional paths, both bold and cutting-edge, the kind of work that made you sit up and take notice.

Though Chu Hang’s exchange period had only lasted a single semester, it hadn’t stopped him and Anna from becoming friends. Though their design philosophies didn’t always align, every discussion between them sparked new ideas, generating fresh perspectives.

It could be said that the semester Chu Hang spent there had been the most breakthrough semester of Anna’s design career, and it wasn’t until this reserved, aloof exchange student left that Anna realized her feelings for him went beyond mere admiration.

This trip to China served two purposes — researching buildings for her thesis, but also, in her heart, Anna felt a flutter of excitement, hoping that maybe she and Chu Hang could become something more than friends. After all, the two of them were so perfectly in sync when it came to architecture…

“Let’s go, Chu Hang, it’s raining hard out here. Let’s head into the museum.”

But despite Anna’s urging, Chu Hang didn’t move. He glanced around casually once more, then said flatly, “You go ahead. I’m going to buy something.”

Anna, none the wiser, nodded and headed into the museum lobby alone. But standing at the entrance, looking back at Chu Hang, she noticed he hadn’t actually turned toward the nearby convenience store — instead, he stood there under his oversized umbrella, quietly staring toward the bus stop. Even though she’d already arrived, Chu Hang seemed to be waiting for someone else entirely. As the rain grew heavier and time passed, his expression grew increasingly troubled — not angry exactly, but tinged with a restrained anxiety and worry Anna had never seen on his face before.

Chu Hang waited outside in the rain for a full half hour before finally closing his umbrella and heading into the museum, lips pressed tight. What followed was his usual explanation of the museum’s architectural design concepts and details to Anna, but unlike his focus at the museum the day before, today he seemed distracted, his mind elsewhere. Several times, after Anna asked a question, he’d pause before he seemed to register what she’d asked.

Chu Hang knew this wasn’t right, but his thoughts kept drifting on their own toward something distracting him.

There was a thunderstorm today, which meant Tan Yin should theoretically be sneaking along invisibly as usual, and yet she hadn’t shown up. By now Chu Hang had already been explaining things to Anna at the art museum for a good half hour, and Tan Yin still hadn’t arrived.

In theory, this wasn’t a big deal — whether invisible or not, she had plenty of legitimate reasons to be a no-show — sudden emergency, overslept, or simply changed her mind. But Chu Hang felt an uneasy sense that something was wrong. He had a strange, inexplicable feeling and trust that unless she’d run into real trouble, Tan Yin would have come — she wasn’t the type to break her word. Chu Hang could still clearly recall the way she’d lit up with joy yesterday when he’d agreed to let her tag along — the small curve of her nose, her genuinely smiling eyes, her lips like rose petals.

“City A’s art museum has an exterior deliberately made white, forming a sharp contrast with the vividly colored buildings around it. Though white can often feel monotonous, this contrast makes the museum striking instead. The hollowed-out window patterns on the arches and walls create a sense of visual variation, letting the visitor’s line of sight shift and move as they walk through…”

A full hour and a half had passed since their agreed meeting time of eight, and Tan Yin still hadn’t shown up.

“Chu Hang, how do you think we should handle the relationship between architecture and the natural environment, the urban environment, in an art museum design? How do we best integrate indoor and outdoor spaces? Is there room to improve this particular art museum’s design?” Anna kept sketching in her notebook, glancing up at Chu Hang. “Chu Hang?”

Chu Hang had drifted off again. He looked at Anna, frowning slightly. “Sorry.”

In that instant, Chu Hang made a decision — he wasn’t going to let himself get distracted anymore. Ignoring the questioning look in Anna’s eyes, he said firmly and resolutely, “I can’t stay with you at the museum today after all. Something urgent has come up, I need to head back to school.” Chu Hang pressed his lips together. “I’ll get in touch with a classmate of mine from the architecture department to accompany you here. His name is Zhou Ming — he’s done a lot of research on art museum design. I think the two of you will have plenty to talk about.”

Before Anna could get a single word out, Chu Hang gave her a faint smile. “He’s actually nearby. Wait about fifteen minutes for him — I’ll send you his contact info later. Sorry, I need to go now.”

He looked genuinely urgent, as if something serious had come up that required him to leave partway through. After a brief explanation to Anna, he simply turned and walked off.

Chu Hang started off at a brisk walk, but soon broke into a run. Anna watched as his expression turned grim and cold, running out of the museum, vanishing into the far end of the crowd…

For some reason, though nothing had been said between them, Anna had a strange feeling — this man wasn’t just running out of the museum. He was running entirely out of her life.

Chu Hang, jaw set, flagged down a cab and rushed back to campus at top speed. He knew he should stay calm, but whenever it came to Tan Yin, he never seemed able to. At first, he’d been driven half-mad with fury at this little jinx of a girl, then, after discovering she could turn invisible, he’d found himself quietly enjoying watching her antics play out. Now, with this clingy pest missing, he found himself worried something had happened to her.

Being invisible meant nobody else could see her — if she ran into trouble in weather like this, no one would be able to help her.

She only had herself.

Chu Hang rushed back to campus, his emotions taut the whole way, unable to maintain his usual composure. His face was openly tense with worry and faint anxiety. He called Jiang Yilu first.

“Tan Yin? Tan Yin left the dorm before it started raining, said she was headed to the art museum.”

Jiang Yilu’s answer confirmed Chu Hang’s suspicion — Tan Yin really had left, intending to keep the appointment, and yet he still hadn’t seen her anywhere…

Could she be stuck somewhere on the way to the museum? Or somewhere else?

Chu Hang’s expression grew grave. On the ride back in the taxi, he’d stared out the window the whole time, trying to spot whether Tan Yin might be stranded somewhere along the route, but to no avail. Now all he could do was hope she was still on campus, so he could search location by location.

He went to the architecture building, opening every classroom door to check, then the coffee shop, then the cafeteria, the campus clinic, the library, the convenience store, the little garden, the gym…

Chu Hang braved the thunderstorm, walking nearly the entire campus, and still hadn’t found Tan Yin. This chatterbox who usually talked his ear off constantly had vanished, and Chu Hang found himself, strangely, unable to get used to it.

He circled the campus twice without finding her, and just as he was nearly out of ideas, walking down the tree-lined path outside the gym, he heard Tan Yin’s slightly trembling voice—

“Chu Hang, Chu Hang…”

Though the thunderstorm had gradually eased, it hadn’t fully stopped. Chu Hang forced himself not to look directly toward the voice; he walked a bit farther first, then casually tilted his head back as if by chance.

The voice came from above, and only when Chu Hang casually looked up did he finally spot exactly where Tan Yin was.

She was awkwardly sprawled on a tree right above his head — these old trees were as ancient as the university itself, their branches thick and sturdy with dense foliage. He had no idea how she’d managed to climb up. She was wearing a dress, her figure now bedraggled, standing precariously on the branch, soaked through by the storm like a drowned rat. And soon, Chu Hang understood exactly why she was up there — her other hand was carefully cradling a similarly soaked, pitiful stray kitten, its front leg hanging at an unnatural angle, clearly injured.

Just as Chu Hang was figuring out what to do, the annoying thunderstorm finally began to let up.

The moment the rain stopped, Tan Yin immediately started shouting at the top of her lungs. “Chu Hang! Chu Hang! Help me! I’m up here! Right above your head!”

Thank goodness, this tree-lined path wasn’t heavily trafficked normally, and even fewer people passed through in this rainy weather. Fortunately, Chu Hang had apparently been searching for something today, walking slowly and looking around after leaving the gym, and so by the time the rain stopped, he hadn’t gotten far.

Chu Hang looked, perhaps, as though he’d long grown accustomed to her disastrous predicaments — he showed no shock, only pressed his lips together, frowning, as he walked over to the base of the tree.

Even though Tan Yin was technically looking down on Chu Hang from her perch, she was the one on the verge of exploding with embarrassment — the calmer Chu Hang looked, the more mortified she felt. She coughed to cover it. “Ah, Chu Hang, what a coincidence, right? Since you’re passing by, why don’t you help me get down?”

Even up in the tree, Tan Yin tried hard to maintain a composed, casual smile. She brushed her wet hair aside, feigning nonchalance. “Here’s what happened — I was actually planning to go to the art museum with you today, but on the way past this tree, I saw a cat trapped up here. There’s a small hole rotted in this trunk here, and the cat’s front paw got stuck in it, seems injured too…”

Chu Hang, somewhat exasperated, said, “You saw a cat was hurt and just climbed up the tree yourself to save it? Couldn’t you find someone else?”

“I saw the huge thunderstorm coming, and it seemed so pitiful for the cat to get soaked, and if I left, who knows how long it’d be before someone else discovered it.” Tan Yin thought anxiously to herself — besides, I’m invisible in the rain, who could I have asked anyway?

Chu Hang seemed to think of something and fell silent for a moment. He looked up, glaring at her, though the look wasn’t fierce so much as helpless.

“So what do I do now?” Tan Yin asked pitifully. “When I climbed up, I wasn’t thinking straight, but now that I’m up this high, I’m a little scared to climb down…” As if to underscore her point, her foot slipped, and she nearly fell right off the branch, causing her to yelp for help without meaning to.

“Jump down.”

Tan Yin wailed dramatically, “Maybe you should go borrow a ladder from the gym’s equipment room instead.”

“No time. There’s rainwater on the branch, it’s too slippery — by the time I get back with a ladder, you might’ve already fallen. Besides, as far as I know, there’s no ladder in the equipment room.” Chu Hang frowned, his tone firm nonetheless. “Jump.”

But Tan Yin hesitated. “What if I jump and you don’t catch me, and I end up breaking my leg…”

Chu Hang rubbed his temples. “You already broke your leg jumping off a building for me once. What are you afraid of now?”

“…”

Buddy, if you hadn’t said that, maybe I would’ve had the nerve — now I’m even less inclined to jump…

Chu Hang, who had been maintaining a steady upward gaze from below the tree, suddenly looked up twice, then abruptly and awkwardly averted his eyes.

Tan Yin panicked, thinking he was doing it on purpose. “Didn’t you say you’d catch me if I jumped? You’re not even looking at me now, how are you going to catch me?”

Reluctantly, Chu Hang looked up again, but the moment his gaze met hers, he jerked it away again as if he’d seen something he shouldn’t have. Even from a distance, Chu Hang’s fair skin made it unmistakably clear — Tan Yin could see his ears turning red at lightning speed, followed shortly by his cheeks. Tan Yin touched her own chest — this dress had a sturdy front, and dark-colored too, so even soaked through by the rain, there was nothing indecent showing. What was with Chu Hang’s expression?!

At a time like this, why was Chu Hang being so awkward? Tan Yin got anxious. “What’s wrong with you now, Chu Hang? I’m about to jump, you need to look up so you can catch me!”

“Your skirt…”

Just those four words, and yet Chu Hang seemed to force them out with great difficulty. But those few words were all it took — a lightning bolt of realization struck Tan Yin.

She was wearing a dress, and she was up in a tree — which meant Chu Hang, looking up from below, could see straight up underneath…

Tan Yin’s face flushed instantly red. “Chu Hang, you pervert! You’re peeking at my underwear!”

That set Chu Hang off too. “Who’s peeking at your underwear, Tan Yin, can you get your priorities straight — if you weren’t up a tree and I wasn’t trying to rescue you, would I need to be looking up at all? You think I want to look? I’m worried I’ll get a stye in my eye tonight from all this! If you don’t come down soon, I’ll be forced to keep looking up regardless!”

“Then—then look away, don’t look at me!”

“…” Chu Hang’s voice was both exasperated and gritted with frustration. “One moment you’re telling me to look, the next you’re telling me not to. Which is it — do you want me to look or not?” He seemed to steel himself, no longer holding back. “Forget it, don’t worry about whether I’m looking or not.” His voice had gone slightly reckless, his words slipping out unfiltered. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to have any inappropriate thoughts about a child wearing Doraemon underwear. Just jump already.”

Though almost as soon as he finished saying it, Chu Hang seemed to realize what he’d said, and clamped his mouth shut immediately, not wanting to say another word.

Tan Yin’s face burned bright red. What did Doraemon have to do with anything?! Was wearing Doraemon underwear supposed to make her a child?!

Still, Tan Yin knew Chu Hang wasn’t entirely wrong — this whole thing really was her being unreasonable. Chu Hang was purely being kind and helping her out; given his character, he’d hardly want to be entangled with her in any way — he was probably terrified she’d try to extort some obligation out of him over this. She also knew what she really needed to do now was jump. But still…

But she was still scared.

Now that Chu Hang had said his piece, he no longer bothered avoiding her gaze either. Though his face was still somewhat flushed, he’d already lifted his eyes to meet hers directly, and his tone was resolute. “Jump. I’ll catch you.”

“If you’re scared, close your eyes. Just jump, I can catch you.”

Chu Hang really did have a certain quality that inspired trust, that made people feel safe.

Tan Yin gritted her teeth and finally made up her mind. She held the cat securely, then, truly listening to Chu Hang’s instruction, closed her eyes and jumped down.

The tree wasn’t actually that tall, but the sensation of falling still made her heart lurch. Before Tan Yin’s fear could fully register, her fall was abruptly caught by a pair of strong arms.

She’d been caught by Chu Hang.

He hadn’t lied to her. He’d really caught her.