Li Wu arrived at school before five o’clock. The room was dark, and it seemed none of his roommates had arrived. He glanced around, hung his bag on the chair back, and was just about to pull out a book when a shout came from the balcony bathroom:

“Who’s there? Who came in!”

Li Wu startled, recognized Cheng Rui’s voice, and raised his own appropriately: “It’s me, Li Wu.”

“Oh! It’s you!” Cheng Rui said, “I just got here too, taking a dump! Do you need the bathroom? I can finish quickly.”

Li Wu paused for two seconds: “No need.”

Cheng Rui had no intention of ending the conversation there: “You went home?”

Li Wu: “Yes.”

Cheng Rui asked further: “Do you have relatives in Yi City?”

“…”

Li Wu couldn’t understand why he wanted to chat like he was singing mountain songs in that environment – couldn’t he wait until he came out to talk? He remained silent, sat back at his desk, and opened his physics workbook.

“Li Wu???” Cheng Rui persisted.

Li Wu pressed his temple, a headache beginning to throb.

“Why aren’t you answering me—”

Li Wu couldn’t bear it anymore: “Just focus on your business.”

“Now you’re being mean!” Cheng Rui switched to a whining tone: “Don’t let Lin Honglang’s bastard influence rub off on you! Talk to me a bit, it’s so boring sitting here!”

Li Wu exhaled and asked: “Where’s your phone?”

“On the table charging,” Cheng Rui made an unreasonable request: “Go check how much battery it has and bring it to me.”

Li Wu immediately pretended to vanish into thin air.

After a while, Cheng Rui finally came out. He walked back to his bed, his face deliberately dark, voice irritated: “Li Wu, I misjudged you. I thought you were different from them.”

Li Wu turned his pen and glanced at him: “Sorry.”

What? This time it was Cheng Rui who was stumped – had he asked for an apology?

This new roommate of his was quite good-looking, especially his eyes, which always carried a melancholic innocence, both deep and pure, capable of making people feel guilty for no reason.

After his momentary shock, Cheng Rui put on a playful face: “I’m just joking.”

He asked again: “Have you eaten?”

Li Wu replied: “Not yet.”

Cheng Rui extended an invitation, tilting his chin toward the door: “Me neither, shall we go together?”

Li Wu said: “Okay.”

Taking advantage of the other’s absence, Cheng Rui decided to uncover the mystery of his background, as he’d been curious about Li Wu for a long time.

The young man decisively dragged his chair over, stopping beside him. When Li Wu’s gaze turned to his face, Cheng Rui lowered his voice and asked: “Li Wu, did something happen to your family, and then your relatives adopted you and transferred you here? I absolutely won’t tell anyone else.”

“…” Li Wu paused, unsure how to answer, but thinking that what he said wasn’t far from the truth, he gave a slight nod.

“Damn,” Cheng Rui ground his back teeth, proud of his detective abilities: “I knew it, I’m so smart, Sherlock Rui.”

Li Wu gave him an expressionless glance.

“Your relatives don’t treat you well, do they?”

Li Wu said: “They treat me very well.”

“Then why do you always buy food from the poverty assistance window,” Cheng Rui concluded: “They must not give you money to use.”

“That’s not it,” he said firmly, even with a hint of pressure: “Don’t make assumptions.”

Cheng Rui didn’t understand why he suddenly became serious, looking almost angry. He gave him a pitiful glance: “I’m just concerned about you as a good brother, let me treat you tonight.”

“No need.” He turned back to his book.

“Bookworm.” Cheng Rui pouted, sliding his chair back like rowing a boat, creating a sharp noise against the floor to show his dissatisfaction.

Li Wu frowned slightly, continued reading the problems, then after a moment of silence, took a deep breath and voluntarily spoke to Cheng Rui: “I’ll treat you tonight.”

Cheng Rui was pleasantly surprised: “Really?” Then asked in a tiny voice: “At the poverty assistance window…?”

Li Wu said: “No.”

Cheng Rui clutched his chest, smiling sincerely: “Alright!”

…

After leaving the cafeteria, they went to the small store, where Cheng Rui reciprocated by buying Li Wu a drink. He downed half a can of cola in one go, burping with satisfaction, and forcefully hooked his arm around Li Wu’s shoulders. Being a head shorter than Li Wu, he looked like he was hanging off his shoulder.

Their brotherly bond had made a qualitative leap and advancement through their heart-to-heart talk and private dinner – at least that’s what Cheng Rui unilaterally believed.

Meanwhile, Li Wu had slightly furrowed brows, somewhat distracted, seemingly calculating something.

Night had fallen, the sun had set, and returning pigeons crossed the boundary between sunset and night.

When they returned to the dorm, Lin Honglang was already there.

He sat shirtless in his chair, head down examining his abdomen, making it contract and expand.

“Pervert.” Cheng Rui exclaimed dramatically as soon as he entered.

Lin Honglang cursed and threw a paper ball at him.

Cheng Rui dodged nimbly: “What are you doing?”

Lin Honglang put on his T-shirt, becoming smug: “I was showering yesterday and noticed I might have abs.”

“? Can’t see them,” Cheng Rui passed by him: “Let me go find a magnifying glass.”

“…” Lin Honglang couldn’t be bothered to respond, looking instead at the tall and straight Li Wu standing at his desk, suddenly feeling competitive: “Li Wu, do you have them?”

“What?” Li Wu looked at him.

“He has them, who doesn’t have abs these days.” Cheng Rui helped deflate Lin Honglang’s pride.

Lin Honglang raised his head, staring straight at him: “Abs, do you have them?”

Li Wu was still pondering how to economize next week to balance the fiscal deficit from treating Cheng Rui, only saying: “Don’t know.”

“We’ll know if we look.”

Cheng Rui’s eyes darted between them, cackling mischievously, stirring up trouble: “That’s right! Li Wu! Whether you’re a mule or a horse, let’s see it!”

Li Wu looked puzzled: “Why do we need to look at this?”

“You’re so fake,” Lin Honglang sneered: “Just look, we’re all guys here, what’s wrong with looking? If you have them you have them, if you don’t you don’t, why be so wishy-washy about it.”

Li Wu just wanted to end this entanglement quickly so he could focus on his accounting, so he directly lifted his sweatshirt with one hand.

The entire dorm fell silent.

Li Wu had never paid attention to these things and wasn’t sure if he had them or not, so he pursed his lips and asked: “Do I?”

His tone revealed slight impatience, but to others, it seemed to contain a hint of provocation.

Cheng Rui stared in amazement, clapping like a seal, praising word by word: “Bad. Ass.”

Lin Honglang was silent for a moment, then said dryly: “Just about the same as mine.”

Cheng Rui began laughing like a monkey, his mockery evident without words.

“What are you laughing at!” Lin Honglang instantly flew into a rage.

Li Wu let go of his shirt, secretly sighing in relief, finally able to sit back down and focus on his accounting.

—

The next day, Cen Jin arrived at the company very early. Her colleagues might have pulled another all-nighter, as there was hardly anyone in sight. She had been handling work handovers lately, her tasks sharply reduced, leaving her relatively free, and indirectly living an early-to-bed-early-to-rise civil servant life.

Just after swiping her card to enter, the front desk said there was something for her, then brought out a bouquet of flowers from the back.

The flower shop’s packaging logo was familiar, it was the shop where Cen Jin had been ordering weekly flowers. She accepted it, frowning slightly, opened WeChat, and messaged the flower shop, asking if there was a mistake since she had canceled her subscription last week.

The owner replied quickly: It’s sent in my capacity.

Cen Jin was stunned for a moment, thanked them, and asked: What flowers are they?

Owner: Forget-me-nots.

Cen Jin smiled, pressing her lips together: My new workplace isn’t far from here, I won’t run away.

The owner replied: Sister, you’re too mundane, am I just trying to keep a customer?

Cen Jin felt somewhat comforted: Regardless, thank you.

The owner said: You’re welcome.

Cen Jin turned off her screen, put the flowers in a glass vase, and placed them in their usual spot.

After sitting down, Cen Jin propped her chin, staring at this bouquet. They were like a bright yellow flame, igniting this small world that had been depressed for so long.

And igniting her as well.

She pulled out the card embedded in the flowers and opened it.

On it was a line of graceful small writing: How to forget worries? Don’t let them burden your heart.

Cen Jin lowered her eyes, truly smiling, she had never imagined that one day she would be moved to tears by such chicken soup for the soul.

Over the next few days, Cen Jin forced herself to step out of her subjective emotions and face her colleagues’ gazes, even daring to make eye contact with Wu Fu, though they barely exchanged a few words all day.

When she stopped confining herself, these days didn’t seem as torturous as she had imagined.

During this time, Cen Jin asked a lawyer friend to help review the agreement and after confirming the divorce date, she went to seek Wu Fu’s opinion. The man seemed to have some objections, saying he had work that day and asked her to make other arrangements.

Their conversations were no longer fierce or mutually attacking; the words between them were as rational as if they were having a friendly round-table discussion.

This state was hard to describe.

Cen Jin only felt detached, watching another self inside her body – perhaps a stronger and more resilient self, or perhaps a completely disillusioned self, helping and pushing her to complete these tasks. But this wasn’t about proving herself; it was numbness, and indifference.

Friends and family were all attentively watching her movements, praising her clean break and giving her various beautiful titles, but she couldn’t draw any comfort or achievement from it.

Cen Jin could only describe it as: inspiring on the outside, depressing on the inside.

One evening, Cen Jin left work early and arranged to meet a friend for dinner.

Her friend was named Chun Chang, an artistic name that seemed like a pen name. Initially, Cen Jin was attracted by this name, which led to her desire to become close friends with her.

They attended the same school, same department, same major, lived in the same dormitory building during university, and after graduation worked in the same office building – their connection was obvious.

They arranged to meet in the lobby. As soon as she reached the first floor, Cen Jin saw Chun Chang from afar.

She had her back turned, playing with her phone, not noticing this side.

Cen Jin chuckled, opened WeChat, and sent her a drawn-out voice message: “Turn… around…”

The woman seemed to check her WeChat, and the next moment turned around, flashing Cen Jin a brilliant smile, then rushed over to give her an enthusiastic bear hug.

Cen Jin pushed her away: “Enough.”

“Baby!” Chun Chang held both her hands, looking her up and down: “Let me see how you’re doing.”

“Pretty good,” Cen Jin said lightly: “No missing arms or legs.”

Chun Chang laughed: “That’s good then, can still eat by yourself without needing someone to feed you.”

With that, she slapped Cen Jin’s back hard: “Come on, what do you want to eat? Big sister’s treat today.”

Cen Jin gave her a sidelong glance: “Want to eat that seafood hotpot that costs 1,200 per person.”

Chun Chang choked slightly, gritting her teeth: “Fine! Let’s go!”

After the hotpot, they went to a bar to listen to music and had some drinks to ease their minds.

Around ten o’clock, Cen Jin was already slightly tipsy, so she left her car at the company and shared a taxi home with her friend.

As the night scenery flowed past, she took out her phone to look and saw that Li Wu had messaged saying he had received his school uniform.

Cen Jin narrowed her eyes and typed: Have you tried it on? Does it fit?

Li Wu replied with an “Mm.”

Cen Jin remembered the shoe-buying incident from before and didn’t quite believe him: Would it be convenient to have your roommate take a photo for me to see?

Li Wu: …

These ellipses made Cen Jin sense a bit of defiance, but unfortunately, influenced by the alcohol, she wasn’t willing to let it go: What’s wrong, don’t want to?

There was no more movement from that side.

After a while, a photo appeared in the message box.

Cen Jin opened it. The young man was wearing a blue and white school uniform, clean and straight, worthy of being called a young white poplar, except his expression and posture were both stiff, his whole being interpreting eight words: awkward and uncomfortable, wrinkled and cramped.

Cen Jin covered her mouth with the back of her hand, giggling softly. How could she be so mischievous?

Seeing her laughing at her phone obliviously, Chun Chang also leaned her head over: “What are you looking at?”

The next second she exclaimed: “Damn, who’s that?”

Cen Jin raised her eyelashes slightly, lazily uttering three words: “My son.”