Cen Jin sat in her car, staring absently at the school motto stone monument in the distance. Soon, a tall figure came running through the twilight.

She squinted to make it out—indeed, it was Li Wu.

Was it her imagination, or had Li Wu grown taller in just these few days?

But the most obvious change was the emotion emanating from him. During his first two days, he had been downcast, gloomy, and struggling to adapt. Now he was much better—no longer so tense, with a vitality bubbling up that could be sensed from far away.

He already looked a little different from the other high school boys gradually leaving the school.

Cen Jin’s eyes curved as she flashed her hazard lights twice to get his attention.

The youth’s steps faltered, slowing down. He looked over, his eyes dark and bright.

Cen Jin lowered the passenger window and waved to him.

All his excitement instantly contained, Li Wu pressed his lips together and walked over.

He stopped outside, slightly out of breath, his chest rising and falling as he stared at her without blinking.

Cen Jin frowned: “Get in.”

Li Wu came to his senses and pulled open the door to sit down.

There was a rich savory smell in the car, and he couldn’t help but twitch his nose.

“Haven’t had dinner yet, right?” Cen Jin didn’t start the car immediately, but took out a cup of oden from the cup holder and handed it to him: “Bought it from the convenience store next door. Have this first to tide you over.”

Li Wu took it and asked: “Have you eaten?”

Since meeting him, this was the first time he’d asked her a question in return. Cen Jin was surprised and asked: “What, are you offering to treat me?”

Li Wu was slightly stunned, his gaze darting elsewhere as he fell silent.

Seeing him reverting to his old ways, Cen Jin stopped teasing: “I’m not hungry. You eat this first, then we’ll see where to go for a proper meal.”

“Mm.” Li Wu obediently forked a meatball into his mouth.

As he raised his hand, the electronic watch on his wrist flashed briefly under Cen Jin’s gaze.

She saw it and asked cheerfully: “Is the watch working well?”

Li Wu hurried to answer, quickly pushing the meatball to one side of his cheek, mumbling unclearly: “Working well.”

His cheek bulging out made him look amusingly cute, and Cen Jin wanted to laugh: “Go ahead and eat.”

The youth began chewing seriously.

Cen Jin discovered that watching Li Wu eat seemed more… appetizing. Than watching those mukbang videos, if one could describe it that way. After all, mukbangs inevitably carried an element of exaggeration and commercialization, but Li Wu was different—he was simply sincere, even reverent.

During her comparison, the youth glanced at her sideways, his brow furrowing quickly before he buried his head elsewhere.

Though the movement was slight, almost imperceptible, Cen Jin caught it all. She smiled in understanding: “Alright, you eat, I won’t watch anymore.”

She turned to fiddle with her phone, checking WeChat messages. The screencast her face in a luminous white.

Li Wu glanced at her from the corner of his eye, then quietly raised his hand to rub his slightly warm ears.

After Li Wu finished eating, they set off.

Cen Jin asked about his studies: “How is it going? Are the classes difficult?”

“It’s okay.” Li Wu answered honestly. He wasn’t trying to put on a brave face—he had been working hard to catch up. Though he was behind in some courses, it wasn’t by an insurmountable amount. As long as he made time for intensive study, he could keep up successfully.

Cen Jin asked further: “What about your teachers?”

“Better than at my previous school.”

“Obviously.”

“…”

Li Wu couldn’t argue—it was indeed stating the obvious.

“Have you run into Teacher Qi these days?”

Li Wu said: “Once during break time.”

“Did you greet him?”

“Mm.” Li Wu’s tone became slightly uncertain. Throughout the week, he had mostly kept to himself in class, and when he did go out, he kept his eyes straight ahead, barely making eye contact with anyone. Teacher Qi recognized him first and greeted him before he responded.

“What about dormitory life? Your roommates should be nice,” Cen Jin was still concerned about the state of the room from the moving-in day: “It’s fine to be friends, but don’t be influenced by them—still need to stay clean.”

Speaking of this reminded Cen Jin of her first visit to Li Wu’s home two years ago.

The house had been bare but kept extremely neat. Li Wu’s grandfather had been well-cared for, his face free of dirt. Li Wu had brought two bowls of clear water, his fingernails clean and neat—quite rare among the children they had evaluated. Poverty to a certain degree usually meant either no capability or no care for such things, but Li Wu was different. Even trapped in difficult circumstances, he maintained his standards and dignity.

These details suddenly surfaced in her mind, though she thought she couldn’t possibly have remembered them.

After all, that day she had been mentally resistant, silent throughout, not even touching the bowl of water.

Thinking of this, she glanced again at Li Wu’s fingers holding the oden cup—long, thin, and knuckled, nails still meticulously trimmed.

Cen Jin sighed deeply in reflection, her tone softening: “If anything at school makes you uncomfortable, you must tell me.”

Li Wu said: “Okay.”

“And if I do anything that makes you uncomfortable, you should tell me too, remind me, alright?” She made it sound like a pact.

Li Wu fell silent.

“So there is something?” Cen Jin glanced sideways, not surprised by his reaction. In some matters, she did tend to be rather pressing.

After a brief mental blank, Li Wu said: “No.”

There should have been something—at some point, he had felt resistance, had fought back, but now he couldn’t remember any of it.

Cen Jin gave a light laugh: “Flattering me?”

“…”

“But,” she couldn’t help praising herself: “You’re lucky to have met me.”

Li Wu gave a soft “Mm,” his lips curving very slightly in the dim light.

Cen Jin felt a long-absent contentment. “What do you want to eat later?”

She continued: “I know you’re not picky, but there must be something you want to eat, something you’ve dreamed of since childhood.”

Li Wu remained silent, showing that withdrawn look again.

Cen Jin glanced at him, knowing she wouldn’t get anything out of him, so while waiting for a red light, she pulled up a food app on her phone.

Without taking her eyes off the road, she held out the phone with one hand: “There are restaurants listed here. Just scroll through, and when you see one you like, tap it to show me.”

Li Wu took it but didn’t immediately do as she said.

Cen Jin raised her eyebrows: “This time I’m giving you the choice.”

Li Wu paused, looking up at her briefly.

Seeing him still not moving, Cen Jin changed tack: “I have decision paralysis—please help me out.”

Li Wu finally began scrolling.

“It’s so tiring talking to kids.” Cen Jin exhaled as if finally getting oxygen.

“…”

His finger paused on the screen, and Li Wu tried to object: “You can just decide…”

“I don’t want to.” The woman quickly replied.

“…”

Talking to adults is so tiring.

—

The place Li Wu finally chose was a home-style restaurant, not expensive per person, not located in prime commercial streets but deep in an alley—a hole-in-the-wall place.

Cen Jin double-checked: “Are you sure? This place?”

She had thought he would choose KFC or McDonald’s—places that could satisfy a child’s sense of holiday ritual.

Li Wu nodded.

“Alright.” She opened the navigation.

The restaurant wasn’t too remote, though after parking they still had to walk a stretch of stone-paved road.

The environment was better than Cen Jin had imagined—though small in size, the interior was particularly thoughtfully arranged, combining both earthiness and warmth.

After the food arrived, Cen Jin tried a bite and her eyes lit up: “You’re quite good at choosing.”

Li Wu uncomfortably rubbed his nose.

It was seventy percent effort, thirty percent luck—he had chosen more carefully than for a test, filtering through prices, location, and reviews before settling on this restaurant. But until receiving Cen Jin’s approval, he had been anxious.

Fortunately, she seemed to like it. Li Wu lifted his eyes slightly, watching for more of her reactions.

Unexpectedly, the woman looked back at him just then, while picking up a large piece of meat and dropping it into his bowl.

“Eat.” Cen Jin lifted her chin.

Li Wu hurriedly put it in his mouth, chewing absent-mindedly.

“Not good?” Her gaze was sharp, catching his distraction. She picked up another piece to try: “The meat is cooked quite well.”

Li Wu nodded stiffly.

Cen Jin noticed the drink basket in the corner: “Want a soda?”

Boys all love these drinks—she was experienced, she knew.

Li Wu shook his head.

“…” Cen Jin pressed her lips together and called out: “Boss, get me a Sprite.”

“Just one? You…” The woman behind the counter looked at them both, considering briefly: “We also have a beer and Wong Lo Kat, want any?”

Cen Jin glanced sideways at Li Wu: “It’s not for me, it’s for my brother.”

The youth’s chopsticks froze.

The owner smiled: “We have cold ones too.”

“Room temperature is fine.”

After getting the Sprite, the owner came to their table and skillfully popped the cap open against the wooden table edge with a bang.

Bubbles fizzed up inside the bottle, releasing a sweet aroma.

Cen Jin took it, inserted a straw, and set it aside without drinking.

After the owner turned away, she pushed the soda bottle towards Li Wu’s elbow and continued eating her food. The woman’s face was unruffled, even maintaining a kind of composed anticipation.

After a while, Li Wu pulled the Sprite closer and took a sip—it was refreshing. With his head lowered, he suddenly chuckled softly, laughing at himself perhaps.

Cen Jin’s lips quirked up, also holding back a smile: “Weren’t you not going to drink?”

“Didn’t want you to spend extra money.” Li Wu said seriously.

“It’s just a few yuan,” Cen Jin dismissed it: “Did you drink this when you were younger?”

“Yes.”

“Does it taste the same as back then?”

“Mm.”

…

——

After returning home and sending Li Wu to study to do homework, Cen Jin went back to her bedroom and flopped spread-eagle onto the bed, feeling physically and mentally refreshed.

The frustrations from work had completely disappeared—people do need to shift their attention sometimes.

Cen Jin picked up her phone and saw a new WeChat message.

She opened it—it was a reply from her mom.

Mom: Your dad says you’re going to resign?

Just three minutes ago.

Cen Jin quickly sat up to reply: Yes.

She deliberately acted coy: You’re not mad at me anymore?

Mom was too lazy to type and sent a voice message, still sounding annoyed: “What’s the use of being mad? Would being mad make you listen?”

Cen Jin played along: Right, listening is impossible, I can’t listen in this lifetime.

Her playfulness made her mother laugh instead of getting angry, wiping the slate clean: “How’s the kid doing now?”

Cen Jin decided to send a voice message back: “Thanks to Dad, he’s got a school to attend. It’s the weekend so I brought him to my place—it would be too pitiful leaving him alone at school.”

“You’re just too soft-hearted,” Mom seemed to recall something from the past: “Wu Fu’s circumstances weren’t great either, but you insisted on marrying him. Look how that turned out—you’re the one kicked out first.”

“What do you mean? I left on my own, okay?” Cen Jin took issue with her mother’s description.

“What about the house? You can’t just give him such a nice house. The down payment and renovation costs were basically all from our family, and he’s barely started paying the mortgage.”

“We’ll see later. The company’s been busy these days, he probably hasn’t even thought about this yet. I’ve already deleted him from WeChat.”

“How old are you, still deleting people—” Mother couldn’t understand, and sternly warned: “Find a lawyer to keep an eye on things for you, and keep your wits about you too. Don’t lose your head again.”

“I know.” Cen Jin started feeling annoyed—just when she had managed to put this matter out of her mind, her mother dragged it back in front of her, forcing her to face it.

All these intricate details of marriage were truly exhausting.

She changed the subject: “Mom, you know what? I’ve had a new realization these past few days.”

“What?” Mother scoffed: “Where do you get all these realizations from?”

“Being a mother isn’t easy,” Cen Jin clicked her tongue: “Only realized it after spending time with that kid from Shengzhou.”