The apartment in Bincheng was just a ten-minute walk to the CBD where she worked.

The high-floor view was exceptional. From the balcony, she could look out over the bay. On clear days, the shallow blue of the water shimmered beautifully in the light.

Being so close to the office, Xia Li could sleep in an extra half-hour every morning.

She’d get up, put on a quick commuter makeup look in ten minutes, pick up breakfast on the walk to work, and have plenty of time to spare — no more rushing.

She was, in some sense, a manager now — and an outsider who had come in from above, which made it inevitable that some people would take their time warming to her. She had to put more energy into her work as a result. But she had experience on her side, and a way of navigating the office that was sociable without losing its edge. As she drove the spring brand campaign forward, her authority established itself naturally, almost without her noticing.

With a proper title, she no longer had to hover over the finest details — she could step back and focus on decisions that actually mattered. Even when she worked late, there was a kind of satisfaction to it, a sense of being fully in her element.

She and Yan Sishi video-called every day, though she was not at all fond of the sensation — seeing each other but unable to touch, that itch of wanting-and-not-having.

Yan Sishi kept his promise. Every Friday evening, he flew to Bincheng to see her.

She had worked late that day, but she calculated when his flight would land, took a cab, and went to pick him up.

She waited about twenty minutes at the domestic arrivals gate before spotting him in the distance as he came through.

White shirt, gray trousers, a light camel-colored coat draped over one arm, a small black carry-on suitcase in his hand.

She raised her hand in a wave. Yan Sishi saw her immediately and quickened his pace.

When he came to a stop in front of her, Xia Li couldn’t help smiling as she looked him over. “Warmer than you were expecting, isn’t it.”

Bincheng in late March was already short-sleeve weather. She had on a black slip top with loose denim trousers.

As Xia Li reached for her phone, Yan Sishi slipped an arm around her waist and walked toward the exit, pulling his suitcase alongside.

She knew his temperament — he was rarely demonstratively affectionate with her in public. This arm around her waist was already as far as he would go.

In the car, in the dim back seat, Yan Sishi kept hold of her hand the entire time.

Her palm grew a little damp. When she looked up at him, her breath slowed without her even realizing it. “…Have you eaten?”

“On the plane.” His tone and expression were perfectly composed — but in the depths of his eyes lay something that matched the air around them: faintly warm, faintly humid, and impossible to catch.

The airport expressway was clear at that hour of the night, and they arrived at the apartment twenty minutes ahead of the usual time.

The place hadn’t been seen in person by Yan Sishi — only via video call. Stepping in, he found it better than the video had suggested. Xia Li had settled in and the space showed it: wherever the eye fell, there were small touches that made it feel lived-in and comfortable.

Xia Li took his coat and hung it up, pulled the closet open, and handed him a clean pair of men’s slippers. “When I got here, everything was already taken care of — I didn’t have to worry about a single thing.”

Yan Sishi had been thoughtful enough to have someone prepare even the slippers in advance. What Xia Li could add was purely what her own taste called for.

They changed shoes and went inside. Xia Li went to the kitchen to get water from the fridge.

Footsteps followed. The moment she pulled open the fridge door, Yan Sishi came up from behind and folded his arms around her waist, pressing his chin firmly down against her shoulder.

He breathed in, deep and slow — she had the sense that he had been starved of air for a very long time.

For a moment, she was entirely enveloped by his presence — that faint, cool clarity that had no place in this tropical city, that belonged only to her.

She thought of his eyes in the car just now. Something clawed gently at her chest. She let the fridge door fall shut, turned, rose slightly onto her toes, and kissed him.

His palm pressed against the small of her back — right against the strip of skin left bare below her slip top. That place burned as though a flame had swept over it.

Xia Li didn’t want to let go, but she also couldn’t stand the day’s worth of grime any longer. She said quietly: “Shall we shower together…”

They stepped out of the bathroom and eventually found their way to the bedroom. By the time it was over, Xia Li felt as if she had fought her way out of a siege — not a shred of energy left.

Yan Sishi had opened the window. A mild, damp breeze drifted in.

She lay with her cheek against the pillow, a little dazed, watching the window outside. The perspiration on her forehead had not yet fully dried, her hair clinging to her skin.

Yan Sishi got up and went to the kitchen, returned with a cold water bottle, unscrewed the cap, and held it out to her.

She had been parched as though she’d swallowed an entire salt flat.

She propped herself up a little, caught his hand, and drank from the bottle in long, steady gulps — only when she’d downed most of it did she feel some relief from the thirst.

Yan Sishi drank a couple of sips as well, then set the bottle down. He ran his fingers through the strands of hair stuck to her forehead, voice carrying the trace of a smile: “Are you all right?”

“…”

Just now, the freshly changed sheets had been gripped into deep creases in her hands, and she had left faint pink marks across Yan Sishi’s pale back with her nails.

He understood more and more how to undo her completely.

Like what had happened just now in the bathroom, when he hadn’t wanted to stop and go to the bedroom for protection but also hadn’t wanted to break the rhythm — so he’d lifted her onto the counter and leaned down.

Like a downpour in the tropics. Every memory of it was drenched: his dark hair in her hands, her own soaking hair, and she herself. An abundance like a rainforest holding an entire season’s worth of rainfall.

There had been one moment when she had been unable to stop herself from looking down, and had felt a burst of light go off somewhere inside her skull.

Buzzing, blank.

That blankness still lingered at the edges of her mind now.

Yan Sishi lowered his head and kissed the corner of her lips. “Shall I carry you?”

She said nothing — she just obediently held out both arms.

After they had cleaned up, they went to the living room.

Xia Li lay stretched out with her head on Yan Sishi’s lap. He held the hair dryer and dried her hair for her, while she scrolled through her phone and thought about ordering a late-night snack.

She couldn’t help saying: “…I’ve never been hungry after working this late before.”

Yan Sishi laughed.

He asked: “How are you settling in at work?”

The hair dryer’s drone made it hard to hear. Yan Sishi leaned down and asked again.

She said: “Not bad. Slowly getting used to having people come running when I call. What about you? How’s everything going on your end?”

Yan Sishi said: “I promised you — June at the latest. I’ll get there.”

She counted on her fingers and thought it still felt like forever. Just one week in, and she already found it unbearable.

Yan Sishi took her fingers and kissed them. “I’ll be as quick as I can.”

The next day, Saturday, they went out together.

Xia Li picked out a few new throw pillows for the apartment, a pair of matching mugs, and a celadon-glazed vase — perfect, she thought, for white flowers, like white roses or tuberose.

That evening, Yan Sishi didn’t have dinner with her. He had a classmate from Boston who was working at a large company in Bincheng, and he wanted to meet up for a chat — the man was only free on Saturday evenings.

Yan Sishi felt bad about leaving her, but Xia Li didn’t mind. She told him to go and not worry — it was just one meal, and they could always have a late-night snack together afterward.

That evening’s dinner turned out to be an easy, enjoyable conversation.

Yan Sishi had never been one for smooth talk or charm. Persuading someone to leave a large company and join his startup wasn’t about painting an exciting picture. He approached it purely from a professional angle — analyzing the prospects, the niche sector they were moving into. Then he made an offer: the right position and the right salary.

The classmate was clearly swayed. His only question was that very few startups had this kind of financial backing — he asked where the capital came from.

Yan Sishi said: join us, and you’ll find out.

The classmate laughed and agreed to think it over seriously.

Yan Sishi packed up a takeaway portion of red bean milk pudding.

The classmate said with a grin: “You’re very frugal for someone in your position, Yan.”

Yan Sishi said mildly: “It’s for my girlfriend. She likes red bean flavored things.”

The apartment had a fingerprint-coded lock. Yan Sishi let himself in directly.

Inside, he found Xia Li sitting cross-legged on the rug in front of the sofa, the coffee table arranged with what appeared to be several bottles.

He walked closer, put down the dessert box, and looked. They were all different varieties of yuzu wine.

“What are you up to?”

“I’m trying to find the same yuzu wine we had at dinner that one time. I ordered these online — they arrived this afternoon. I’ve tasted all of them, and this one comes closest.”

Yan Sishi didn’t look at the bottle she was pointing to. He just looked down at her. “Not drunk?”

The side of her neck up to her cheeks was already faintly flushed.

“No — I only had a tiny sip of each.” Xia Li noticed the takeaway box he’d brought in. “What’s that?”

“A dessert I brought you.”

Xia Li opened it, scooped up a spoonful and tasted it, and her eyes lit up. “It’s good. Red bean flavor.”

Yan Sishi reached over and squeezed the back of her neck lightly, the way one might with a cat.

Xia Li ate her red bean milk pudding and looked up at him. “I have a question.”

“Mm?”

“That time I got drunk — how did we get upstairs? Did you carry me on your back, or in your arms?”

“You don’t remember?”

“Complete blank.”

Yan Sishi smiled. “I won’t tell you.”

“…” Xia Li leaned closer. “I’m guessing you carried me in your arms — am I right?”

“If you say so.”

“Then show me.” She set down the dessert, gave his arm a gentle shake. “Please.”

Yan Sishi gave in, stood up, slipped one arm around her waist and the other behind her knees, and lifted her sideways into his arms.

Xia Li immediately looped both arms around his neck to keep from slipping.

He held her easily, with no effort at all — perfectly steady.

Xia Li settled in and took stock. “…So that’s what it felt like.”

“You seem a little disappointed.”

“Well, I don’t remember any of it.”

“Then you probably don’t remember this either.” Yan Sishi leaned down and kissed her — swift and sudden. Her lips carried the sweet scent of red bean.

Xia Li was taken aback. “…No way.”

Then with certainty: “You’re making that up. You’re not that kind of person. You would confirm with me first before so much as holding me — there’s no way you’d have snuck a kiss like that.”

Yan Sishi said: “…Thank you for trusting me.”

Xia Li laughed and tilted her head up to kiss him once. “Put me down.”

When she’d finished the dessert, she asked Yan Sishi if he wanted to try some of the wine.

Yan Sishi shook his head. He didn’t enjoy the mixed flavor of fruit juice and alcohol — if he was going to drink, he preferred something purer.

Xia Li poured herself a small, shallow glass and took a sip, then looked over at him.

Yan Sishi had already guessed what she was about to do.

He reached out and pressed his hand to the back of her head, leaning in to kiss her first — tasting the sweet lightness at the tip of her tongue.

Xia Li was completely taken with this. She took another sip.

By the time she noticed, the small glass was empty.

Perhaps she wasn’t drunk — but the alcohol had done its small work. She was bolder, and more… pliable.

When she looked at Yan Sishi through eyes that had gone soft and hazy, it made it very hard for him to resist the desire to take her apart completely.

Yan Sishi sincerely hoped that when she woke up the next morning, she would have forgotten what she had said while he was gently coaxing things out of her.

The next morning, Xia Li woke naturally, on her own schedule.

Sitting up, her head swam slightly. Classic aftermath of alcohol — she knew the feeling.

But she hadn’t been drunk enough to lose anything. Every moment came back to her in order: starting from the kiss, to them ending up on the sofa, then the bedroom, the bathroom, the study…

Xia Li came to a sudden halt and scrambled out of bed.

Perhaps hearing her hurried footsteps, just as she pulled open the bedroom door, she nearly walked right into Yan Sishi coming down the hallway.

Yan Sishi asked: “What’s wrong?”

“Did I… did I show you something last night?”

Yan Sishi looked at her. “Forgot again?”

It was precisely because she hadn’t forgotten that it was so disastrous. Xia Li looked like she was falling apart. “…I thought I was dreaming. Did you read it?”

“You forced it on me. I didn’t have much choice.” Yan Sishi smiled.

Xia Li clapped her hands over her ears and ran to the study.

Sure enough, spread out on the desk was a stack of A4 pages — her draft of The Ninth Year Past a Dream, written for Xu Ning’s public column. For some reason, last night she had apparently felt compelled to sit Yan Sishi down and show it to him.

She even remembered how she had printed it out, because looking at it on her phone hadn’t felt right.

She could picture the whole thing: how she had sat on Yan Sishi’s lap and turned the pages for him herself, impatiently telling him he was reading too slowly.

…Truly, nothing good comes from alcohol.

Xia Li, in the particular misery of wishing she could find a crack in the floor to disappear into, idly flipped through the pages.

Then stopped.

At the very end of the manuscript, after the line “But you don’t need to know, because I am about to forget you”, someone had added a few lines in handwriting —

Lili — to be loved so deeply by you is both humbling and an honor. It is my privilege.

Though I may become a crane in flight, or a firefly rising from the grass.

I love you.