Although Cheng Junliang was still somewhat drunk, he was overall considerably more sober—at least able to walk upright on his own now, no longer needing to hang off of Gu Yan like a piece of luggage. Still, Qi Xi and Gu Yan felt it safer to accompany him all the way, taking a cab together to drop him off at his rented apartment before finally saying goodbye with peace of mind.

To save on rent, Cheng Junliang lived fairly far from the city center, and at this hour of the night, it was hard to catch a cab in this area. To get back to the city center, Qi Xi and Gu Yan had no choice but to rely on public transit, and the nearest subway station to Cheng Junliang’s place turned out to be almost a twenty-minute walk away.

Fortunately, the temperature that night was pleasant, with a gentle evening breeze, and Qi Xi and Gu Yan walked side by side through the soft night air, not finding the walk difficult at all—Qi Xi even found it rather pleasant.

Even though she was a Rong City local, Qi Xi rarely came to this particular district where Cheng Junliang lived. Aside from a few mountains on the outskirts good for hiking, there was also a small lake where a lot of people came to vacation on weekends, and for young people, the biggest draw was a distinctive little bookstore—Sky of the Cats.

As a Rong City native, Qi Xi had heard of this little bookstore countless times before, but even though this brand had branches all over the city, the ones in the city center were always packed to capacity, and Qi Xi had always been scared off by the crowds every time.

“I just remembered, there’s supposed to be a ‘Sky of the Cats’ around here! I saw in a travel guide before that this particular location, being out in the suburbs, doesn’t get much foot traffic—especially in the evening, it’s supposed to be really empty!”

Qi Xi had always been interested in writing postcards to the future, and immediately pulled up a map to check. As it happened, it was right along the necessary route to the subway station.

It wasn’t too late yet, and even with a quick stop, they’d easily make it back to the city center before the last subway train. Qi Xi immediately made up her mind and looked at Gu Yan: “If you’re in a hurry to get back, you can go ahead. I want to stop by ‘Sky of the Cats’ for a bit.”

Gu Yan blinked, then immediately showed interest in checking it out too: “Oh, I’ve heard of this ‘Sky of the Cats’ place a few times too, never had the chance to go. Since it’s on the way this time, I’ll come take a look with you.”

Qi Xi hadn’t expected Gu Yan to be interested too, and was naturally delighted: “Then let’s go together!”

**

The two of them hadn’t walked far before they spotted the legendary “Sky of the Cats.” This branch really was less crowded due to its out-of-the-way location, and the moment Qi Xi stepped inside, she quickly fell in love with the atmosphere of the little bookstore. The creative merchandise was quite delightful, the postcards especially distinctive, and—maybe to live up to the “Cat” in its name—the little bookstore had a few lazy cats lounging here and there.

Qi Xi had zero resistance to fluffy little animals, and immediately started petting the cats.

Gu Yan, by contrast, seemed much more reserved. Even though the cats clearly liked him, circling around and rubbing against his legs, he looked visibly uncomfortable.

He kept glancing over at Qi Xi, looking almost like he needed rescuing: “Have these cats had their shots? Could they have fleas?”

That cautious, wary manner of his was a complete reversal from Gu Yan’s usual steady, composed self, and yet Qi Xi found this version of him rather amusing too.

His steady calm made him feel like someone you could rely on and trust, while his occasional childish caution and excessive wariness made him seem, if anything, more lively and endearing.

Feeling a bit mischievous, Qi Xi picked up a cat and brought it right up to Gu Yan: “Pet it, come on, it’s really gentle.”

Gu Yan instinctively wanted to flee, his whole body leaning back away from Qi Xi’s movement, a look of distaste crossing his face: “I’m not petting it. A real man doesn’t keep cats—petting cats is too girly.”

“Fine, don’t pet it then.” Qi Xi held the orange cat and waved its paw at Gu Yan. “I’m going to go order a drink. Is milk tea okay?”

“No milk tea.” Gu Yan said with great seriousness. “It’s also a bit girly for a man to drink milk tea. Get me a black tea latte.”

“It’s already nighttime, and you want a black tea latte?”

Gu Yan nodded, quite insistent: “Mm.”

Talk about stubbornly clinging to appearances at his own expense…

But after thinking it over, Qi Xi ended up ordering Gu Yan a hot milk instead, got herself a milk tea, and added a few small sweets. While waiting for the drinks, she picked out a few postcards, planning to write to the future while they ate.

“Sky of the Cats” had an entire wall of postcards, each labeled with a different future date. Once you finished writing, you’d place it in whichever future date you wanted, and when that day arrived, the bookstore staff would mail it out for you.

By the time Qi Xi finished picking out postcards, the drinks and snacks were ready too. As she carried the tray back, she came upon an unexpected sight—

Gu Yan, who had just moments ago declared that real men don’t keep cats and that petting them was too girly, was now crouched down, still handling it carefully, but gently smoothing the fur of the big orange cat Qi Xi had been holding earlier.

He had no idea Qi Xi was standing behind him, and as he petted the cat, he murmured softly: “I’m just petting you a little. Don’t bite me.”

Except, despite saying he’d “just pet it a little,” in practice, Gu Yan seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself, petting away one stroke after another without stopping.

By the time he realized someone was behind him, he froze mid-motion for a moment, stiffening slightly, before rising and turning around as naturally as he could manage.

“Oh, this cat wouldn’t leave me alone earlier, kept insisting I pet it—blocked my way and refused to move unless I did.” Gu Yan’s face was a little flushed, and he’d lost his usual effortless composure, explaining in a flustered, almost too-eager-to-cover-it-up way, “Petting it was really out of my hands.”

Qi Xi nearly burst out laughing, but out of politeness, she held it in.

“Here’s your drink.”

Qi Xi handed the hot milk to Gu Yan. He took a sip, and upon discovering it wasn’t black tea coffee, was clearly a bit surprised, but said nothing about it, quietly finishing the entire cup of hot milk, looking as well-behaved as an elementary schooler.

Qi Xi also handed Gu Yan a postcard: “Write to the future—you can write anything you want. You can choose a future date and have the staff mail it to yourself, or to someone else.”

Gu Yan blinked, then took the postcard. He glanced at Qi Xi, his eyes looking rather focused and serious under the warm lighting of the bookstore, then, as though he’d made up his mind about something, he lowered his head and began writing on the postcard.

Qi Xi quickly began writing her own postcards too. She wrote one to herself, one each to her mom and dad, and after finishing those, she found she still had postcards left over.

Qi Xi thought about it for a moment, and with a slightly guilty, sneaky feeling, she glanced at Gu Yan a couple of times, and then—whether out of some strange impulse or a sudden whim—she ended up writing a postcard to Gu Yan too.

There wasn’t anything particularly formal in the way of well-wishes—Qi Xi wasn’t quite sure what had come over her, but by the time she came back to her senses, she’d already finished writing the postcard to Gu Yan—

“You looked really handsome petting that cat.”

But since it was a postcard meant for someone else, it needed a proper wish at the end too. Qi Xi thought about what Gu Yan would most want to go well for him, and added a line—”I hope by the time you see this postcard, you and your moonlight are already together.”

But…

Her wish for Gu Yan was sincere, but after writing it, Qi Xi’s heart grew uneasy.

Just before placing it on the future wall, Qi Xi picked up her pen again, pressed her lips together, and scribbled out that last line of well-wishes.

As if venting her frustration, Qi Xi blacked the line out completely, scribbling until there was absolutely no way Gu Yan could ever make out what she’d written.

Even as she placed the postcard on the wall, Qi Xi still felt a little guilty, like she’d done something not quite right—as though she were being so petty she couldn’t even bring herself to offer Gu Yan a genuine wish for the future.

But…

But if he ended up with that infuriating, string-him-along moonlight of his, what happiness could Gu Yan possibly find in that?

Thinking about what that woman had done to Gu Yan, Qi Xi felt her actions were entirely justified—that woman was a scumbag, after all. What kind of person would she be if she wished for Gu Yan to end up with a scumbag?

Even so, Qi Xi still placed the postcard somewhat furtively, feeling like what she’d done was somehow illegitimate, as if she’d committed some enormous wrongdoing.

But it seemed Gu Yan was doing the same thing. She had no idea who he was writing to, but the whole time he wrote, he kept his postcard tightly covered, as if terrified Qi Xi might catch even a single glimpse of a single word. When he placed the postcard on the wall, his movements were just as cautious, clearly not wanting Qi Xi to see it either.

Even though they’d come here perfectly openly to write a few postcards to the future, somehow, both of them ended up acting like they were sneaking around doing something shady.

**

Once they finished writing their postcards, since it was getting late, Qi Xi reluctantly left the little bookstore.

There was still some distance to walk to the subway station, and the streets were mostly empty along the way. Qi Xi found herself thinking back on how smoothly the Lu Juan and Cheng Junliang situation had been resolved, unable to resist reviewing it, feeling a bit sentimental: “Actually, my guess about Pan Zhendong cheating was really just a shot in the dark. I didn’t expect to actually get it right.”

She looked at Gu Yan: “So were you guessing too? I think at the time you probably already suspected he’d cheated.”

Unexpectedly, Gu Yan’s voice was quite steady: “It wasn’t that he’d probably cheated. He definitely had cheated.”

Gu Yan sounded so certain about this that Qi Xi couldn’t help muttering: “Isn’t that just hindsight talking now…”

“Because I’m a man.” Huh? What did being a man have to do with any of this?

Gu Yan pressed his lips together, and explained, somewhat reluctantly, as if it were an effort: “I’m a man, so I understand men. Someone like Pan Zhendong, all ambition and no ability—starting a business like that, he probably owes far more than just over a hundred thousand. And Lu Juan was completely blinded by love. If Pan Zhendong had treated her even a little better and kept sweet-talking her, given that Lu Juan was already willing to extort Cheng Junliang for his sake, she’d absolutely have kept taking out online loans to fund him. So Lu Juan clearly still had use value to him—why would Pan Zhendong rather take on a hundred-twenty-thousand debt, sign an IOU, and break up with Lu Juan?”

“The only reasonable explanation is that he’d fallen for someone else, already had someone else, and had no feelings left for Lu Juan at all—not even enough to bother sweet-talking her anymore.”

Hearing this, Qi Xi suddenly understood.

She looked at Gu Yan. In that moment, walking beneath the dim streetlights, his head turned slightly to the side, just a step away from her. His tone was calm, but as he talked through the case, his expression was focused and serious, his fair, refined profile carrying an air of unshaken composure.

Qi Xi suddenly felt a pang of defeat.

Not long ago, she’d been rather pleased with herself, having taken an unconventional approach and guessed correctly about Pan Zhendong’s affair, thereby solving Cheng Junliang’s problem in a roundabout way. She’d been quite smug, thinking she was the only one who’d figured out that solution.

But now, hearing Gu Yan’s explanation, Qi Xi realized he’d probably already thought of this long before she had—he hadn’t even been guessing the way she had. He’d already been entirely certain about using Pan Zhendong’s affair to break down Lu Juan’s psychological defenses.

He’d just kept quiet about it, letting Qi Xi have the moment to shine.

What was with this whole “letting her have it” act!

Qi Xi was thoroughly unhappy about it. She didn’t like losing, but she wasn’t a sore loser either. Before, every time Gu Yan had come out on top, she’d been the perpetual runner-up. Even though she’d always complain about Gu Yan “stealing” first place from her again, deep down she knew Gu Yan had won fair and square, without relying on any underhanded tricks, and she respected him for it, at least somewhat. It was just her own pride that kept her from admitting it openly, so she treated Gu Yan as her imaginary rival, always needing to grumble about him behind his back to balance herself out psychologically—that word “steal” was really just something she’d, in her own quiet act of self-consolation, pinned on Gu Yan out of that mindset.

But annoying Gu Yan, playing the gentleman now, of all times—where was this gentlemanly behavior back in school during exams? Even letting her win just once would’ve been nice!

That was what Qi Xi thought, and it was also what she couldn’t help but grumble to Gu Yan about.

She’d expected Gu Yan to ignore her, but to her surprise, he paused and actually answered—

“I can’t give first place to you.”

Well, that made sense too—according to the “Complete Guide to Gu Yan,” he only cared about outcomes, not process, so first place would mean something different to him.

Thinking about it this way, Qi Xi felt a bit more at ease. “That makes sense, who wouldn’t want to be first place? After all, everyone only remembers whoever came in first, never the runner-up.”

“I don’t care that much about being first place.” Unexpectedly, Gu Yan corrected her. He paused. “It’s not that I don’t care, either. It’s just that it’s not for my own sake that I care.”

Now Qi Xi was genuinely curious: “Then who is it for? Is it your sister who demands it, or your parents, insisting you always get first place?”

But the answer was neither of those.

“For a girl I like.” …?

Qi Xi genuinely couldn’t hold back, her voice rising slightly: “Why?”

“Because she only looks at whoever’s first place.”

Gu Yan glanced at Qi Xi, then looked away: “Her attention only goes to whoever’s first.”

Wow! That’s… that’s such high standards?

“So only the person in first place gets to date her?” Qi Xi felt a bit indignant on Gu Yan’s behalf, and a bit indignant on her own behalf too—she’d always thought that every time she lost to Gu Yan, it was because he had the same competitive drive she did, and it turned out it was all for some woman!

“So what place does she come in, then? What’s her major?” Qi Xi knew she was just misdirecting her frustration, but for some reason, she couldn’t help feeling hostile and resistant toward this moonlight of Gu Yan’s. “She’s got this whole selecting-a-royal-consort thing going on—does she think only first place means high intelligence, means she’ll have brilliant offspring with them? What if she herself is the dim one—first place wouldn’t exactly balance out her own intelligence deficit.”

Perhaps because she’d attacked his moonlight, Gu Yan’s expression toward Qi Xi turned somewhat complicated, but he didn’t seem angry at her behavior at all—if anything, he looked rather tolerant of Qi Xi’s criticism of his moonlight just now.

The man only said, with false severity: “You shouldn’t insult her.”

The way he said it made it sound as though Qi Xi didn’t even have the standing to criticize the woman.

Though, honestly, most people in his position would’ve jumped up and fought Qi Xi over this—after all, this was supposedly his desperately-longed-for, madly-loved moonlight. Could he really just sit there and accept someone criticizing her to his face?

Qi Xi was a little surprised by Gu Yan’s reaction, and tested the waters: “You didn’t have much of a reaction when I insulted her—does that mean, thinking it over now, maybe you don’t like her that much anymore?”

Gu Yan pressed his lips together and looked at Qi Xi, looked at her for so long that Qi Xi thought he wasn’t going to answer the question at all, and then she finally heard his voice.

“No. I still like her a lot.” Gu Yan looked away, no longer meeting Qi Xi’s eyes, looking instead toward the plants along the road. “But you’re allowed to insult her. Only you. No one else is allowed to insult her.”

Wow!

So she had this special privilege, which meant Gu Yan was implying…

Even though it was about his desperately-loved moonlight, Gu Yan was willing to tolerate Qi Xi badmouthing her—rounding that up a bit…

“Gu Yan, do you think I’m actually not bad? Worth being friends with?”

Gu Yan didn’t answer right away, looking at Qi Xi for a moment before finally looking away and saying: “I guess you’re passable.”

Considering how hard it was to win Gu Yan’s approval, if he said “passable,” that was actually quite something—after all, even for durian, which he loved so much, all he’d give it was “passable.” Clearly this man’s standards were as high as his looks.

Qi Xi was almost touched. So this was how much standing she’d earned in Gu Yan’s heart.

He must consider her a really close friend to allow something like this to happen!

Qi Xi couldn’t quite pin down her own feelings—part gratified, part inexplicably unhappy. She shook her head to clear the jumbled thoughts, and decided to just try to feel happy about this.

What was there to be unhappy about, really?

Wasn’t this exactly the outcome she’d always been working toward?

She’d wronged Gu Yan before, and now she’d finally, through all her efforts, managed to patch things up with him, and it looked like it had actually worked—Gu Yan even considered her a good friend now…

And this implication just now meant…

“Gu Yan, have you forgiven me?” Qi Xi said, quite sincerely. “I’m sorry, Gu Yan, about misunderstanding you at graduation and causing you so much trouble. Thank you for being willing to forgive me.”

“There’s no forgiving to speak of.”

Huh?

Qi Xi felt a flicker of unease—did that mean he still hadn’t forgiven her?

Gu Yan finally turned to look at her, his expression quite plain: “Actually, I never really held a grudge over it in the first place. So there’s nothing to forgive.”

That made sense too—if he’d really held a grudge against her, he could’ve simply sued her for defamation.

The more Qi Xi thought about it, the more she felt that Gu Yan really was good-looking, had a great build, and good character too. Sure, he came across as a bit cold and aloof, but in terms of character, he was every bit the noble gentleman.

She suddenly, completely understood why Gu Yan had been so popular back in school.

A guy like that really did deserve all that affection, was worthy of it.

Qi Xi felt a twinge of bitterness. “I think I sort of get now why so many girls like you.”

Qi Xi thought Gu Yan wouldn’t respond to this, but to her surprise, he seemed unable to help himself, and Qi Xi heard him say, whether to her or to himself, almost as if trying to convince himself—

“But I only like one.”

Gu Yan’s voice sounded a little muffled, but his tone was unwavering.

Qi Xi suddenly felt inexplicably irritated for no reason at all.

She thought, okay, okay, got it, got it, next topic!

She tried hard to think of something else to distract herself. Regardless of everything, the fact that she and Gu Yan had now cleared the air between them was, in the end, all thanks to the “Complete Guide to Gu Yan”—if she hadn’t found this encyclopedic guide to Gu Yan and tailored her approach to his preferences, would she really have reached this point today, earning his approval after all her hard work?

Qi Xi glanced at the quiet, composed Gu Yan walking beside her, and felt she’d been slacking on her “studies” lately—she really needed to go home and review the “Complete Guide to Gu Yan” again properly.

A few days ago, Qi Xi had happened to download a beginner’s guide to heavy metal rock, and decided she’d go home and start cramming on heavy metal knowledge, determined to achieve some kind of soul-deep connection with Gu Yan when they went to the concert together that weekend, to be able to rattle off heavy metal trivia like an expert.

Qi Xi thought optimistically that once this weekend’s concert was over, her friendship with Gu Yan would be completely solidified.