The dry cleaner’s lights were bright and clean, the air carrying a faint, dry scent of detergent, the soft hum of machinery coming from somewhere in the back.

The staff member at the counter took Xia Li’s pale wool coat, examined the footprint stains, then turned it over to check the care label and fabric composition.

Perhaps it was just the way they worked here — each step was done with unhurried thoroughness.

That slow, meticulous pace seemed to stretch time itself, giving Xia Li the odd sensation that she could almost hear the second hand of Yan Sishi’s watch ticking on his wrist.

She glanced sideways just slightly — caught only a glimpse of his arm before she looked away again. She didn’t dare let her gaze travel to his profile.

When there was nothing to be conscious of, she was fine. But once awareness crept in, her nerves drew taut on their own, beyond her control.

The staff member slipped a card with the details into the coat pocket. “You can pick it up in three days.”

Back in the car, Yan Sishi drove on toward Xia Li’s place.

For a stretch, neither of them spoke. The cabin had no music playing. A quiet that felt faintly charged.

Yan Sishi glanced at the passenger seat. She was looking downward, phone in hand, but the screen was dark — she hadn’t turned it on.

Xia Li surfaced from her thoughts. “…No. I think the team-building event was just exhausting — all that noise for so long, and now that it’s quiet, all I want to do is space out. Does that happen to you?”

The car heater was running, and the air had grown slightly warm and dry after a while. Xia Li reached out and adjusted the direction of the vent, then asked, as if in passing: “…Did you go alone tonight?”

“Were you in the booth section?”

“Mm.”

“No wonder — I hadn’t noticed you at all.”

A contradiction seemed to be woven into human nature. Like now: she clearly wanted to find out the answer, yet the moment she needed to push any further, she pulled back.

The silence stretched on without resolution.

They’d been getting along so comfortably lately, but somehow the ease between them had begun to feel strained again.

After a long quiet, Yan Sishi spoke: “Your supervisor…”

“What about him?”

Saying things behind someone’s back wasn’t really Yan Sishi’s way. Besides, as far as he could tell, Xia Li’s personality was far from the fragile thing her appearance might suggest — she didn’t need him worrying on her behalf.

“Never mind,” Yan Sishi said at last.

The car came to a stop under a tree near the entrance of her complex.

Xia Li thanked him, and Yan Sishi said, as always, “Don’t mention it.”

Xia Li couldn’t help but laugh softly.

Yan Sishi looked at her. “What?”

“I feel like we’ve turned this into a ritual — it’s always these same two lines.”

“Then don’t be so formal with me next time.”

That line from Yan Sishi — delivered entirely without inflection — landed on Xia Li like something warm and unexpected.

She had to blame the dimness of the cabin: nothing but the faint glow from the instrument panel and the center console screen.

Darkness and ambiguity always seem to call each other into being.

She pulled herself back, smoothed over the brief flicker of disorientation, said I’ll head up then, unclipped her seatbelt, and reached for the door handle.

At that moment, Yan Sishi spoke — that clear, unhurried voice carrying just the faintest suggestion of teasing, though the tone itself stayed perfectly level:

“You’re taking my coat?”

Xia Li froze.

She looked down.

There it was — his caramel-toned trench coat, pooled across her lap. She’d been holding it without realizing it, all the way home. By now it had taken on the warmth of her body.

She hastily lifted it off herself and set it on the seat beside her.

Her fingertips burned.

She opened the door and got out, standing beside the car with her hand resting on it, and managed to say, with reasonable composure: “Bye.”

Yan Sishi looked at her through the dim light inside the car. “Good night.”

Yan Sishi’s maternal grandmother, Dai Shufang, was due to visit Beicheng for her routine check-up.

The examinations could just as easily have been done in Chucheng — small though the city was, it still had its own tier-three hospitals.

But so that Yan Sishi wouldn’t worry, Dai Shufang was willing to make the extra trip.

Besides, it was now April, one of Beicheng’s most pleasant seasons. A chance to enjoy the city and clear her head was welcome enough.

Dai Shufang’s husband, Huo Jizhong, had long since stepped back from the day-to-day operations of the company. With little to occupy him, he was happy to accompany her.

Since neither of the elders were comfortable in hotels, Yan Sishi had arranged in advance for the house at Taoyue Lane to be cleaned and prepared.

The house had belonged to Yan Sishi’s mother, Huo Qingyi — bought for her by Huo Jizhong before her marriage, with the thought that if she and her husband ever had a disagreement after the wedding, she’d have a place of her own to return to in Beicheng.

The house had sat empty for many years, and much of the electrical equipment had fallen into disrepair, making the preparation quite a task.

Yan Sishi had delegated the inspection to Wen Shubai.

After going to look, Wen Shubai reported back: the place was on the older side, but the living conditions were perfectly comfortable — no problem for a stay.

“They really built things well back then,” Wen Shubai remarked, and returned the key to Taoyue Lane. “That said, I feel like I’ve been there before. Did I go when we were in primary school?”

Yan Sishi’s expression remained neutral. “You did. When you were in elementary school.”

“Really? I have no memory of it. Was your mother living there then?”

Yan Sishi fell silent.

Wen Shubai caught himself — he shouldn’t have brought up Huo Qingyi.

And now he understood why Yan Sishi had asked him to do the inspection instead of going himself.

When it came to anything connected to Huo Qingyi, that was still, for Yan Sishi, off-limits.

On the agreed date, Dai Shufang and Huo Jizhong set out for Beicheng.

Traveling with them was Luo Weiguo.

Luo Weiguo’s son, Luo Wei, also worked in Beicheng, and coming along let him look in on the boy while he was at it.

Dai Shufang wasn’t particularly fond of Luo Weiguo, but Huo Jizhong said the man was attentive and capable, and having him along meant there was someone to handle things if anything came up.

On the day of their arrival, Yan Sishi drove to the airport to meet them, and they had lunch together before he saw the elders settled at Taoyue Lane.

It was a rather narrow alley; going further in made it difficult to turn a car around.

Yan Sishi stopped at the mouth of the alley, unloaded the luggage from the trunk, and walked the elders inside.

At the entrance stood an old pomegranate tree, dense with deep green foliage that filtered the sky overhead — a bright, clear expanse, the color of lapis lazuli tiles.

Yan Sishi stopped at the door and knocked.

After a moment, a woman in a blue work uniform came to open it, and took the suitcase from beside him.

He turned and gave the elders a slight smile. “Everything inside should be ready. If there’s anything missing, just call me.”

Dai Shufang looked at him. “Aren’t you coming in, Xiao Yan?”

“I’ll leave you to it.”

Both elders were quiet for a moment. Neither pressed.

Yan Sishi said, “Get some rest first. Grandmother, I’ll come pick you up tomorrow morning for the hospital appointment.”

“You’re not working tomorrow?”

“I’ve taken the day off.”

The next day, Yan Sishi accompanied Dai Shufang to the hospital for a full round of relevant tests. The results were excellent — the specialist recommended strengthening her exercise and nutrition, and said the next comprehensive check-up could wait another year.

The days that followed happened to fall on the weekend. Dai Shufang had expressed interest in attending a medical equipment exhibition, but as luck would have it, the timing overlapped with an industry forum Yan Sishi was supposed to attend.

The conflict came up over dinner in a private room.

Luo Weiguo said, “Mr. Yan, please don’t trouble yourself — I’ll accompany Director Huo and Teacher Dai.”

Dai Shufang gave him a look that made her feelings fairly clear. The man was attentive, she’d grant him that, but he could be overly eager, and she didn’t find it restful. “If you come along, will I get a moment’s peace?”

Luo Weiguo grinned. “In that case, how about I ask my son? He knows Beicheng very well.”

Dai Shufang’s expression made it clear this was even less appealing.

Luo Weiguo was by nature a man whose skin appeared to be somewhat thicker than average. He pressed on: “The exhibition is mostly foreign exhibitors, isn’t it? As it happens, I know someone here in Beicheng — a girl from my hometown, English major. She could act as a guide for Teacher Dai, and I’m sure you’d be very pleased with her.”

Dai Shufang said, “I don’t know her — what would be the point of her being there…”

Yan Sishi spoke then. “You’ve met her.”

Dai Shufang looked up. “Oh?”

“The Ming-zhong school anniversary in my second year of high school. She introduced herself to you. Her family name is Xia.”

Dai Shufang thought for a moment. “Is that the girl — wasn’t there some trouble at the factory at the time, something to do with a Xia someone?”

Luo Weiguo gave a slightly awkward “yes.”

Which showed just how much of a spectacle Xia Jianyang had made of himself at the time — even Dai Shufang, who didn’t usually concern herself with factory matters, had heard about it.

Dai Shufang said, “I remember the girl seemed quite well-mannered. What a thing, to have a father like that.”

Luo Weiguo said, “The girl’s done well for herself — far better than my Luo Wei. She works at some tech company, a foreign enterprise or some sort of international division… If you’re agreeable, I’ll give her a call and see if she has time.”

Dai Shufang: “Go ahead and ask.”

Yan Sishi said evenly: “I’ll do it.”

Luo Weiguo looked momentarily thrown.

Yan Sishi: “I said I’ll make the call.”

Dai Shufang caught something in that and looked at him shrewdly. “Xiao Yan, do you know this girl?”

Yan Sishi said “mm,” but had no intention of elaborating. He rose from his seat, took out his phone, and walked to the window of the private room to make the call.

Xia Li had just finished an afternoon nap when the call came through.

Her arm had gone numb from lying on it too long. She fumbled with the screen for a moment before she managed to answer.

“Are you busy?”

Hearing Yan Sishi’s voice, Xia Li found herself sitting up a little straighter. She reached for the mug on her nightstand and took a sip of water. “No — I’m still in my lunch nap window.”

“Do you have plans this Sunday?”

Xia Li opened her calendar on her laptop to check. “I’m free.”

“This might be a bit sudden… there’s something I’d like to ask of you.”

“Go ahead.”

After hearing Yan Sishi’s explanation, Xia Li hesitated for a moment.

He must have sensed it, because Yan Sishi said: “If it’s inconvenient, don’t worry about it. I know you’d rather not deal with these kinds of social obligations.”

“That’s not it…” Xia Li said quickly. Her impression of Yan Sishi’s grandparents was actually quite favorable. “I have one condition, though.”

“Tell me.”

“Don’t let Uncle Luo come along.”

She heard something on the other end of the line — it might have been Yan Sishi giving a quiet laugh. “Alright.”

That barely-there laugh, almost impossible to catch, made Xia Li feel as though the two of them had arrived at some kind of understanding.

After all, it had been precisely because of how hard it was to handle Luo Weiguo that Yan Sishi had offered to lend her his earphones that day.

Which had been the beginning of everything she’d ever felt.

On Sunday, Yan Sishi drove his grandparents and Xia Li to the entrance of the exhibition.

As the three of them got out of the car, Xia Li deliberately fell half a step behind and told him quietly: “Don’t worry. I’ll look after them properly.”

Yan Sishi said, “I’m not worried at all.”