The following week, Long Ziyi and Lu Zimu fought earth-shakingly.

Mainly it was Long Ziyi exerting force.

Her energy was abundant. She even directed and acted out a moving scene herself, packing up Long Qi’s, Wukong’s, and Qi Jie’s luggage and taking them away, running to stay in a hotel for several nights. Not until Lu Zimu received Long Qi’s location message and came knocking on the door in the middle of the night with a keyboard in hand to apologize, throwing out the big move of “deleting all female contacts unrelated to work from the address book,” did Long Ziyi’s fire finally finish venting, and she was willing to return home.

It exhausted Long Qi to death.

She began to feel grateful she hadn’t grown up following this woman from childhood. Just this temper of causing a moving scene at the slightest disagreement—she’d rather live cramped but stable in Long Xinyi’s less than 80-square-meter three-bedroom apartment than change hotel standard rooms once a day.

As for Si Bolin’s apartment, she hadn’t been back recently.

Paparazzi had long since dug up that address. Every day people squatted at the residential complex entrance. Her gossip used to nourish Beifan students, and now it had become a topic of conversation relished by people nationwide. No fun at all. But thinking about it, it was understandable. Back when Jin Yiken was still in the country, among that bunch of his motley crew friends, she was especially interested in the gossip between Si Bolin and Wuzi. If their on-and-off relationship had paparazzi following it, she’d absolutely subscribe to that paparazzi studio’s official account and follow it daily. She thought Wuzi was too beautiful, but Si Bolin just didn’t take it to heart. Not only that, Si Bolin also thought Long Qi was his aesthetic blind spot.

…

Forget it. His older sister was Yan Wenjing. Forgive him.

During this period when she felt it was no fun, two more photos became new topics for bored media and netizens, stirring up a vigorous wave of attention.

One was taken when Ban Wei called her to attend a birthday party for a band member. Midway through the party, she took a photo with a female photographer. Film quality, leaning against a wall, hair slightly damp from champagne spray, a cigarette jokingly tucked behind her ear, the spaghetti strap of her velvet dress slipped off her shoulder, one earring missing, head tilted, forehead against the wall, neck flushed—drunk and in high spirits.

The other photo was Jin Yiken’s.

One of the rare clear front-facing photos dug up by media, with Victorian-style university buildings as background—sunshine, green grass, plane trees. He stood with one hand in his pocket among three or four schoolmates of different skin colors. The standing-collar shirt he wore was one Long Qi had casually bought for him while shopping in high school. It could cover his wildness but couldn’t hide the tattoos on his neck and wrists. The hair by his forehead was blown slightly askew by wind. He was smiling with the corner of his mouth hooked up—his whole person looking both clean and wicked.

Her photo was taken by the female photographer and posted to her personal account, recognized by netizens that very day.

Jin Yiken’s photo was a group photo taken during small group discussions, posted on the personal Facebook account of a Chinese girl who was also in that group. One day later it was posted by media on the domestic internet.

Looking at them individually was nothing, but together they became a topic.

First they were reposted by various marketing accounts with the title: Feel the frontal appearance value of Long Qi’s ex-boyfriend…

Then it exploded once on Weibo trending searches. After the falling-into-sea incident, a bunch of people were busy chasing the so-called truth, yet still didn’t forget to operate with a doting mother’s heart, caring about the previously hotly discussed Long-Wu-Jin love triangle. So the media’s skill at making things up came out very timely and as-needed. They pulled out Long Qi’s photo immersed in “wine and debauchery,” compared it with Jin Yiken’s life state, stamped and sealed saying the two had completely split. They said after the falling-into-sea incident her mental state was poor—not only had her activities decreased, but she’d also let herself go wild. Meanwhile, the male party, due to strict family rules, had long since disapproved of Long Qi’s style. Using this falling-into-sea incident, they’d completely put Long Qi on the blacklist. Evidence was the previously photographed pictures of Long Qi meeting Lian Shao Zi for tea, and after “having tea,” Jin Yiken’s performance of obediently staying in England to study, with not a trace of interaction with Long Qi over two months. Even “according to insiders, Long Qi has always harbored hopes of reconciling with Jin Yiken, but Long Qi can’t restrain her love of partying. Her private life is too chaotic. Repeatedly refusing to listen to advice, the young couple thus parted ways.”

Made up with meticulous detail.

The two’s passerby CP fans actually grew another wave, clamoring for them to reconcile for the sake of appearance justice, saying there was still love between them because in the photo Jin Yiken’s right hand wore a couple’s ring.

Long Qi only then discovered this.

On the evening school started, she video called him. He had no class and had gotten up late, watching a ball game on the sofa eating brunch. The phone was placed on the coffee table. When he brought milk to his mouth, she saw the ring he wore on his ring finger. It really was the one she’d given him before he went abroad. But her ring, after finding it earlier, had gone missing somewhere again. So she didn’t dare mention it and just asked: “Do you know your photo leaked out?”

“Just found out,” his eyes were fixed on the TV, completely absorbed. The milk brought to his mouth was temporarily not drunk. “That girl found me to apologize. It’s fine. I’ll have it taken down when I find time another day.”

“Oh, does she have any more in stock there? I still want to see them.”

A goal was scored.

Jin Yiken drank his milk, then smiled afterward: “What do you want to see?”

“See you.”

The screen shook. He picked up the phone. It looked like he was flipping through his contacts. She saw his face up close. Just woken up, not fully awake, his voice sounded a bit more hoarse than normal: “I’ll send you her WeChat.”

“Don’t send it to me. It’s a bit strange. Just ask her directly.”

“Isn’t it strange for me to ask her directly?”

When Jin Yiken responded this way, she felt like that made sense too. She replied: “Won’t she misunderstand that I’m indirectly monitoring your daily life in London?”

“Aren’t you though?”

He said, saying it with certainty, even giving her a glance.

So her little schemes were completely seen through in his eyes.

Her finger lightly traced on the pillow surface. She heard Jin Yiken continue: “This girl is in the same small group as me this semester. Her boyfriend is on the same ball team as me. Eight out of ten activities are together with me. The two of them combined are real-time GPS with monitoring function. Plus that girl is half a fan of yours. If you add her, she’ll be overjoyed and will be absolutely unreserved with you. What I eat in England, what friends I make, what I’ve said to what kind of girls, how many times we’ve made eye contact—she can report everything to you in detail. You really don’t want to add her?”

…

“Beg me,” she replied.

“I’m begging you to hurry up and monitor me.”

Wukong was whimpering at the foot of the bed wanting to get on. She smiled: “Then send it over.”

A ding sounded. Jin Yiken sent over that girl’s WeChat contact card. Then he asked: “You started school today?”

“Mm.”

“You went?”

“No. Originally was going to go, but didn’t my mom and Lu Zimu have a falling out? I just moved back from the hotel, didn’t have time to organize things. Oh right, this semester I’ve decided to live in the dorm. My mom’s place is ultimately still inconvenient.”

“Oh,” he rubbed his face. “I also saw your photo.”

“Which one?”

Just as she asked, she realized herself and joked: “Oh, that wine pools and meat forests one.”

She propped her chin on the pillow: “What, you want to lecture me too? The person who photographed me was a female photographer, quite famous in the industry. Being called immersed in wine and debauchery—that sister is even angrier than me.”

“I don’t want to lecture you.”

“Then what do you want to do?”

“Want to bring you over, lock you in the room, not leaving the house for three days and nights.”

As the words fell, she looked up at Jin Yiken in the video. Her ears unconsciously heated up. He wasn’t watching the ball game now either, just watching her, continuing with two words: “Miss you.”

She missed him too. Wanted to fly directly to London in response to this sentence.

But she held back, didn’t collapse, replied with two words: “Hooligan.”

…

That night afterward, she chatted with Jin Yiken until very late.

He had no class anyway, so he just kept the video on. Even after she fell asleep he didn’t turn it off. Wukong kept trying to climb onto the bed but couldn’t. Qi Jie leapt up in one bound, nestling by her pillow to sleep. Until early morning Jin Yiken still hadn’t turned off the video. In the end it was he who woke her up. Over there it was already late at night. He was playing games. The moment she opened her eyes and was hit by sunlight, she sensed something was wrong. She suddenly sat up, looked at the time—nine in the morning. She shouted for Long Ziyi again—no one responded. Gone to work! She quickly put on clothes. Jin Yiken was still leisurely playing his game. She asked: “You just watched me sleep all night?”

“You’d better be charging,” he replied.

The phone only had twenty percent battery left. She immediately became frantic and screamed. Qi Jie jumped off the bed. Then she hung up the video call. Long Ziyi had a conscience—the phone call came through ten minutes later. First asking if she’d gotten up, second asking if she dared not set an alarm again, third asking if she’d finished washing up—five minutes later come downstairs to wait for the car. She was going home to get documents and could conveniently drop Long Qi at school along the way.

She figured Long Ziyi had completely forgotten to take documents and was afraid of being criticized when returning home, so was putting on this act of calling ahead.

Twenty minutes later, they arrived at the school dormitory building.

Her waist and back ached. She sat on her suitcase rubbing her waist. After dropping her off, Long Ziyi was going to another company for a meeting, bringing a male assistant with her. The assistant helped her move another small suitcase. A few students passing by looked at her, discussing in low voices. When everything was moved, she listlessly got up. Just as she was about to drag the suitcase into the building, Long Ziyi asked: “No activities next Saturday right?”

“?”

“Come home for dinner Friday. Saturday I’ve made you a hospital appointment. It’s about time to go…”

“We’ll talk about it then.” She interrupted.

Long Ziyi stood by the car with arms crossed, didn’t continue, but Long Qi knew what she wanted to say. She pulled her luggage, turned around and walked, waving her hand.

…

The dorm was empty now.

Everyone had gone to class. The hallway was also empty. She used her key to open the door, pushing the suitcase inside. In freshman year the school mandated dormitory living. She’d always had a bed here but, busy with filming, had never stayed. She hadn’t met the other three roommates even once. The dorm environment was quite good—spacious. The beds weren’t old-fashioned iron beds but white wooden ones. Quite a few warm-toned carpets covered the floor. In the center of the dorm was a shared log wood long table with some green plants and teacups. The teacups were arranged very neatly, each cup body labeled with a name.

She moved her suitcase in front of an empty bed. On that bed were the new textbooks distributed this semester. Following the course schedule, she found the class currently in session—Film Theory Fundamentals. Looking at the time again, she sighed, kicked the suitcase into the corner, and took the textbook out of the dorm.

She’d never attended this class. It took fifteen minutes to find the classroom.

When she entered, class was already half over. A multimedia classroom, the screen displaying film material PPT. The instructor was an auntie in her forties. She glanced at her without saying anything, just pointing toward the seats with her hand. But below it wasn’t quiet. Immediately there were subtle overlapping voices. As she walked down the aisle, the surrounding commotion grew. Far and near gazes all stared at her. She was just finding a seat. The classroom had over thirty people seated. There were empty seats—either you had to step over a long row of knees, or they were extremely in the corners. She felt that no matter what, she had to find something more centrally located. Then she set her sights on an empty seat by the aisle on the fifth step.

But just as she stepped onto the third step, the empty seat was “saved.” A girl next to it who’d been taking notes with her head down slowly moved a brown-red leather notebook onto the empty desk to her right—understated, without a trace, as if hinting someone was there. Long Qi continued up the fourth step, no longer looking there, and went to a corner seat in the seventh row.

Just as she sat down, the phone tucked in her book rang. Classmates front, back, left and right looked at her. She leaned back against the chair, left hand turning a pen, right hand taking the phone under the desk, seeing a message from Pengzi’s girlfriend.

Pengzi was Jin Yiken’s regular ball partner and drinking buddy. Pengzi’s girlfriend was a particularly interesting rich girl, five foot seven, tall and elegant, named Shu Meng. They mutually followed each other on every social media account. Their friendship originated from when Jin Yiken and Pengzi arranged a drinking gathering, the first time she was brought along to meet. Long Qi happened to be carrying a bag she’d pre-ordered for three months without being able to buy. When the person inquired, with one sentence of “don’t buy it, I have two, I’ll give you one,” the girl was convinced to the ground. Their aesthetics aligned. Revolutionary friendship was rapidly established. This also resulted in later when Jin Yiken saw Pengzi, he only brought Long Qi. Shu Meng couldn’t stand Bai Aiting. Supposedly earlier the two had some grievances. No specifics were mentioned. So in this aspect they had another common point. The two could really talk.

This time Shu Meng messaged to ask her to eat together tonight. Long time no see—time to gather.

She typed, replying “okay.”

Shu Meng sent the time and place—a high-popularity hotpot restaurant not far from her school. After chatting about this and that, she switched pages to the real-time surveillance of Long Ziyi’s home. The surveillance was newly installed recently so she could still see Wukong and Qi Jie while at school. Right now the instructor was lecturing on stage. She was watching the two little creatures below. Qi Jie was lying at the standing air conditioner outlet. Wukong was sunbathing by the balcony.

Especially cute.

When she looked up, her gaze swept to the fifth row. That seat she’d originally set her sights on was still empty. The leather notebook was still placed there.

She didn’t pay much attention.

It was just that later near the end of class she looked again. The notebook had already been put away by the girl in the adjacent seat. The seat was still empty. Long Qi’s pen turned in her hand. She propped her forehead, looking at that girl’s back. After two or three seconds, she lightly withdrew her gaze.

The bell rang.

Class dismissed.

Those leaving all went in groups of three to five—all classmates who’d been familiar for a year. Friendship structures were solid. Walking while chatting about what to eat for lunch. There were also some still paying attention to her, but ultimately no one came to disturb her. Long Qi sat in her original seat, knees against the desk edge, busy replying to messages from Wu’er. Wu’er was still waiting for her. Her finger silently typed on the screen. When she finished, the classroom was already empty.

Packed up her books and left.

Returning to the dorm, the door was half ajar. From the independent bathroom inside came the sound of running water. Seemed like one person had returned, but just one person. Inside the dorm was still empty and desolate. She went to her bed area to organize luggage, taking out three small gift boxes she’d casually prepared beforehand, placing them on the log wood table. She turned around to continue organizing clothes, but after taking just a few steps, she paused, turned her head back to look at the table. To the left of the three small gift boxes were the just-returned roommate’s laptop and books. On top of the stack of books was a brown-red leather notebook.

…

At that moment her face showed no expression.

She slowly walked toward the bathroom. The light was on inside. Water flowed abundantly. A figure was vaguely visible. When she reached the door, the person inside seemed to notice too, saying: “Yishan, help me pass a bath towel.”

On a row of hooks by the door hung three bath towels of different patterns. A corner of each towel was embroidered with different names. One called “Nalin,” one called “Wu Yishan,” and one more…

Ge Yinling.

Long Qi’s shoulder leaned against the wall. Because there was no movement, the person inside asked again: “Nalin?”

Okay, got it.

She took that towel belonging to Ge Yinling.

At the same time, the person inside opened the door. Warm light and steam wafted out. As Ge Yinling leaned out half a shoulder, Long Qi looked up—wet collarbones, pale skin, cold eyebrows. Their gazes silently met. Neither spoke, neither greeted. Ge Yinling’s chin lifted slightly. Long Qi crossed her arms, hand raised, unhurriedly passing the bath towel.

Four or five seconds later, Ge Yinling took it.

She closed the door. The figure inside made some movements. Long Qi didn’t wait, leaving a sentence: “I brought some gifts and put them on the table. Don’t know if they suit your taste. Thank you all for helping me collect my books. This semester I’m starting to live in the dorm. Sorry for the intrusion.”

Then she walked away. The door behind opened. Ge Yinling added a sentence: “It was Wu Yishan who collected the books.”

Steam followed and wafted out—a scent of cherry blossom body wash. The person wrapped in a towel, hair half pinned up with a few loose strands sticking to the back of her neck, passed by her, walking to the bed area to get clothes: “If you want to give gifts, give them to her. I don’t accept rewards without merit.”

…

Long Qi’s little temper.

She drew in a breath internally. Her finger joints accumulated strength, accumulated for a full three or four seconds. Finally, thinking of Lao Ping’s face like an old father’s and Ban Wei’s “earnest advice” given a week earlier, she ultimately withdrew this strength and replied: “Oh.”

Then asked: “Your friend didn’t come to class?”

Ge Yinling turned her head. Long Qi’s chin made a light gesture toward the notebook: “Isn’t this saving a seat?”

“Oh,” she withdrew her gaze, pulling on a long dress, pulling away the bath towel. “Just don’t like people sitting next to her. Don’t take it personally. They all know this habit of mine.”

The ending tone was cut especially fast, a look on her face declining communication. Precisely, Long Qi remembered that at the time her left side had been full of people. She laughed internally. The dorm door suddenly opened, interrupting the hair-trigger frozen atmosphere. That girl hadn’t even entered the dorm yet when her voice rang out, exactly the same as heard at the quiet bar a week ago: “Hey? Isn’t this Long Qi!”

Ge Yinling went to the table, pushing the three gift boxes on the table toward the door: “Yishan, she gave them to you.”

The three gift boxes slid across the table surface, colliding with each other, their order all disrupted. One of them hung at the table’s edge. Wu Yishan was quick with her hands and held it down. Shoulder-length short hair, Harajuku style outfit. At a glance clearly a girl with quite a cheerful personality. Big mouth and eyes. When she smiled her teeth were especially white: “All three are mine?”

“All yours.”

Before Long Qi could speak, Ge Yinling answered, hanging her washed underwear on the rack.

Up to this point, Long Qi’s fire still hadn’t erupted.

Her palms pressed against the table surface. She turned around, looking Ge Yinling up and down once. Then she was enthusiastically grabbed by the hand by Wu Yishan, forming a strong contrast: “Thank you! Are you moving in to stay this semester?”

…

The afternoon class passed in a daze.

Wu Yishan was really enthusiastic, pulling her into awkward chat for most of the day. When she came to her senses, Ge Yinling had already left. She didn’t come to the afternoon class. Wu Yishan said she went to see her boyfriend.

Regarding the topic of Ge Yinling, Long Qi didn’t show she wanted to hear much, so the girl later didn’t say more. Those listening to lectures listened, those playing with phones played with phones.

Past six, it was time for the appointment with Shu Meng. Coming out of the teaching building, she saw from afar someone driving her Porsche over, specifically coming to pick her up, especially eye-catching. Long Qi stood with hands in her pockets in the corridor waiting. Surrounding students finishing class looked over in twos and threes. She threw the hood of her hoodie over her head. When the car arrived in front, she leaned down by the car window. Shu Meng lowered the passenger window: “Get in, baby.”

“How did you get in? Students’ cars can’t enter the school.”

“I said I was from the Academic Affairs Office.”

So smug she could die.

Getting in the passenger seat, pulling the seatbelt, Shu Meng’s car was playing a song in a minor language. With one step on the gas she drove out of campus: “You even complain about this? Wasn’t it more eye-catching when Jin Yiken dropped you at class?”

“When he was back in the country I never went to class. Why did you suddenly want to eat hotpot?”

“I’ve been dieting for half a month. Today I especially want to eat.”

“Where’s Pengzi?”

“Liao Temple Peng is interning at his dad’s company, working overtime. He’ll come later. His mom keeps using Jin Yiken to spur him on. He’s in a complete mess right now. Tell me, how can your guy balance playing and doing serious business so well?”

Driving to an intersection, a car ran a red light crossing the road. Shu Meng therefore slammed on the brakes. Her road rage kicked in: “Driving without caring about life!”

Long Qi recently couldn’t stand high-decibel noise. She changed the subject: “I recently met a friend. She should have things to chat about with you. In some ways she’s especially like you.”

“Oh,” Shu Meng calmed down. “Introduce me another day. What’s her name? Maybe I’ve met her?”

“Fang Xuan.”

“Seems like I’ve heard her name.”

“This circle isn’t big.”

Turning to enter a small road, Shu Meng continued: “Si Bolin is also coming. His campus is nearby.”

Mentioning Si Bolin, Long Qi perked up, sitting up a bit: “Did you call Wuzi?”

“Yeah,” Shu Meng immediately replied. “I also wanted to ask you—what’s the situation between those two now? Wuzi’s like she’s evaporated. I heard from Liao Temple Peng before that Si Bolin was dealing with Wuzi.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just, dealing with her, the unsentimentally dealing kind. Said Wuzi did something to betray him. Wuzi herself also acknowledges it.”

“What could it be?” Wuzi loved Si Bolin so much.

“It was also from a while ago. At that time weren’t you also crossing the river on a clay Buddha yourself? I didn’t bother you, to avoid you being touched by the scene. The matter has already turned the page. And,” Shu Meng’s index finger tapped the steering wheel, “he has a new girlfriend now.”

Long Qi turned her head.

“So is he bringing her this time?”

“Not bringing her.”

“Not the same campus?”

Shu Meng smiled: “Right now he treasures that girl like something precious, says he’s afraid you’ll set your sights on her.”

“Afraid I’ll set my sights on her?!”

“Calm down, baby.” Even as Shu Meng said this, she continued smiling, clearly standing on Si Bolin’s side. Immediately she added: “Let me tell you a joke. A while ago weren’t you guys on the island?”

Somewhat sensitive about that time point, her emotions calmed down. She leaned back against the chair, raised one knee, listening like watching a show: “Mm.”

“That night Jin Yiken dealt with the guy surnamed Yu, didn’t word spread in the circle beforehand? Si Bolin was the first person to know. He knew where Yu Peng was but didn’t say. Called Pengzi and they directly flew over to where you guys were. The island isn’t a place we usually play at. They were afraid you’d suffer losses.”

“?” Long Qi looked at her. “Didn’t see them that night.”

“Let me tell you, after those two landed that night, on the road they saw some local specialty noodle shop, and they fucking went and stood in line. After eating the noodles and looking, the matter was already over.” By this point Shu Meng couldn’t help laughing and slapping the steering wheel wildly. “Ah, laugh me to death. Those two later felt too embarrassed to tell Jin Yiken. I thought Pengzi was going behind my back to the island to do what. Later when he brought out Si Bolin, I believed him.”

She wanted to laugh, but before Long Qi could express her reaction, the car suddenly made another small sudden brake. They’d arrived at the hotpot restaurant’s outside parking lot. Shu Meng had just been focused on talking and drove slowly. The car behind probably couldn’t wait patiently. With one overtaking move it stepped on the gas and rushed into the entrance, catching Shu Meng off guard. The car’s engine sound was low—a supercar. Long Qi looked at that license plate number—it seemed familiar. Shu Meng’s eyes were sharp. She slammed the car horn hard, directly shouting the name: “Si Bolin! Are you a man or not!”

Road rage acted up again.

Si Bolin just happened to be driving ahead of her. And as Shu Meng honked wildly, his car window rolled down, lazily resting one arm on the window edge, flicking cigarette ash.

Shu Meng immediately became so angry she screamed. Turning her head she shouted asking: “When is Jin Yiken coming back! No one can control him anymore!”

“If Jin Yiken were here, you’d be even more eager for him to hurry and get lost to London.” Long Qi replied.

Shu Meng had grown up with Pengzi and them since childhood. Back then the main force teasing her was Jin Yiken and Si Bolin. Now finally Jin Yiken, this troublemaking rogue, was gone, but Si Bolin the big devil still remained.

“Calm down, baby.” Long Qi comforted.

…

Later when Shu Meng finished finding a parking spot and parked the car, entering the hotpot restaurant full of resentment, Si Bolin had already ordered food in the private room. Moreover, Pengzi had actually also arrived. The two bros had already started chatting. Alcohol was ordered, designated driver also reserved—a look of not stopping until drunk. This person Si Bolin was like Jin Yiken, with a tendency to grow more handsome over time. Back when Jin Yiken brought Long Qi to eat hotpot with him, he’d once suffered from the sauce Long Qi mixed. This time, needless to say, he personally mixed all the sauces. He wouldn’t let Long Qi touch a single chopstick.

This person had OCD about food.

Pengzi, who usually loved dressing explosively trendy and riding Harleys, today obediently wore a suit and dress pants, hands in pockets, smiling as he asked: “My bro really won’t come back for most of half a year this time? How’s his body now?”

This sentence “how’s his body” was asked with special meaning. Si Bolin held a chopstick in his mouth, smiling. After smiling, he looked seriously at Liao Temple Peng, helping Long Qi reply: “He can take care of himself.”

Then Liao Temple Peng burst out laughing again.

These two fucking men with low-grade bad taste. Long Qi bestowed a mushroom each upon them: “Was the island’s noodles good?”

Pengzi’s smile immediately ceased. Si Bolin’s hand holding chopsticks paused. His reaction was faster than Pengzi’s: “Let’s discuss something, Long Qi.”

Then these two finally behaved. Throughout the meal they remained polite and amiable. Long Qi didn’t really eat much hotpot. She used chopsticks to pick food into a bowl, then switched to another pair of chopsticks to eat. Shu Meng saw this and teased her severe mysophobia. She smiled without speaking.

Later some more people came. Pengzi was especially bad, even calling to harass Jin Yiken who was sleeping in England under time difference, sending him several party pictures. Jin Yiken didn’t really pay attention to them. The call was answered for half a minute then hung up. Afterward, no matter how they called, he wouldn’t answer. Not until Pengzi photographed Long Qi chatting with Shu Meng did the call come back. After giving face to chat with Pengzi for a few sentences, he ordered Pengzi to pass the phone to Long Qi. She took it. Jin Yiken had stayed up late playing games yesterday. Right now his voice was still tired as he asked: “Does your dorm have a curfew?”

…

She remembered.

Ten o’clock curfew.

Right now it was nine forty-five.

She immediately got up. Si Bolin was just gnawing an apple. Seeing her like that, he took the phone to listen. While listening, his gaze swept toward Pengzi: “Shu Meng can’t send your wife. Pengzi blacked out.”

Then said: “I’ll send her back. Don’t worry.”

Si Bolin hadn’t been drinking.

“Didn’t Pengzi want to compete drinking with you? How come in the end you didn’t touch a drop?” In the car, Long Qi sat in the passenger seat. She’d drunk a bit too much herself, felt dizzy. Si Bolin just got in the car, placing the hangover milk bought from the convenience store by her hand, starting the car and turning the steering wheel: “After sending you off I have to pick up my girlfriend. She finishes her activity at ten.”

If it weren’t for drinking so much alcohol, she’d really have the energy to pry information about his new girlfriend. But she was dizzy enough that she was too lazy to respond, her nerves also not sensitive, only pressing her forehead against the car window: “Wake me when we arrive…”

…

Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at school.

The guard just happened to be away. Si Bolin drove all the way into campus, sending her near the dormitory building. After getting out of the car, she first threw up a round. The night wind was cool, blowing her head in pain. But she still remembered to tell Si Bolin to go, no need to mind her, don’t make his girlfriend wait. After Si Bolin left, her head became slightly more clear. On the campus path, orange lights shone. The night wind gently blew, blowing her hair and the cuffs of her T-shirt. Only then did she remember the outer hoodie was left in Si Bolin’s car. A bit cold. She rubbed her arms, took out her phone. The screen light illuminated her cheeks. She slowly typed, sending Jin Yiken four characters: I really miss you.

The phone with only one percent battery left, after sending the message, finally ended a day of persevering, automatically shutting off. Black screen.

Most afraid of solitude after revelry.

Most afraid of loneliness after companionship.

She ran her fingers through her hair, continued walking toward the dormitory building entrance. But only after climbing the stairs did she discover life could be even more fucked up. Ten-oh-one. Before her eyes the iron gate was already locked. The dorm auntie wasn’t there.

She sighed.

Knocked on the door for a minute, stood in the wind for four or five minutes. Still no one opened the door. No choice. She descended the stairs, preparing to go to a hotel near school to spend the night. While slowly walking, behind her came a male student’s call: “You want to go in?”

Hearing the sound, she turned around. Her hair flew with the night wind.

Sweeping her hair behind her ear, only then did she clearly see the male student standing under the orange streetlight five or six meters away. He wore a full set of night running sportswear. His chest rose and fell, breathing slowly. He took off his earphones to hang around his neck. Half in shadow, half in light. He wiped the sweat at his chin, calling her name like an old friend: “Long Qi.”

She still stood under the light, looking at this person who seemed slightly familiar, not responding.

His head tilted toward the dormitory building: “The back door is open.”

…

But the female dormitory building didn’t have a back door.

She didn’t respond, continued walking. The male student seemed to know what she was thinking. He laughed, raising his voice a bit: “I call that place the back door. The wall facing south, the third window counting from the west broke during the last typhoon and hasn’t been fixed yet. You can get in from there. Better than being out in the elements.”

Her steps paused.

She turned around. The male student tilted his head again toward that direction: “I’m in your class.”

…

“Tell me left and right, don’t say east and west,” she finally spoke. “Right now I can’t tell which side west is.”

The male student smiled.

Five minutes later, he led her to find that place. Indeed there was such a window, covered with black cloth. By the window edge were broken glass shards. He pulled the cloth aside, cleaned away the glass shards by the edge, extending his hand toward her: “I’ll give you support. You step on my knee to go up. Don’t jump. Inside there’s a chair. Step on the chair to go down.”

After finishing, he added an explanation: “The chair was put there by my girlfriend. Every time she misses curfew, she enters from here.”

Long Qi’s hand rested on the wall.

She didn’t take his hand. Stepping on his knee, she stood on the window ledge, then saw the chair inside the room. She gripped the window frame to step down. The male student supported her elbow. She didn’t turn her head: “No need.”

He let go.

Just like that she entered the room. The long hair on her shoulders lightly leapt with her movements. Finally no longer blown by night wind. Her mood was slightly better. She said thank you.

After speaking she was about to leave. The male student called her: “Long Qi.”

She slowed her steps, turned around again. In the corridor there was light. She stood with her back to the light. He looked at her, calmly asking: “You really didn’t recognize me?”

…

Her eyes slanted. She crossed her arms. She really seriously scanned his face, looking at his eyebrows in the dim light, his hairstyle, the burning emotion in his eyes. After three seconds: “Oh.”

…

“You’re that band’s lead singer who was singing a week ago?” Her wariness toward strangers relaxed slightly because of this one encounter. “So you also study at this school?”

The male student didn’t reply. He lowered his head, taking out his phone from his pocket, turning on the screen light. His face was suddenly illuminated. Following this he looked up: “What about now?”

This male student’s facial features and contours suddenly became clear.

Different from the rotating lights of the quiet bar, different from under the orange streetlights, different from dim lighting. With his such deliberate artificial reminder, memories both distant and yellowed finally came crashing toward her. The fingertip of her hanging hand trembled slightly. Her heart suspended up and down. But she quickly calmed. Her face didn’t show it. Her gaze also didn’t change. Only her throat was slightly dry and itchy. Two words escaped her lips: “…It’s you.”

…

Fu Yu’ao.