The power of good food is immense. That night, the city’s atmosphere no longer felt distant—it became as comforting as the spices in the chicken, and Li Wu fell asleep content.

But the latter half of the night wasn’t so pleasant. His stomach, accustomed to simple fare, couldn’t handle the bombardment of an entire family bucket of meat, and his trips to the bathroom rapidly increased.

Cen Jin was a light sleeper and noticed his distress. Without asking much, she left a glass of water and a pill on the coffee table for him to take.

Li Wu responded with a bright red face, and when he came out again, the living room was empty.

He bent down to take the medicine, drank the entire glass of warm water, and sheepishly returned to his room, pondering how to thank and apologize to Cen Jin tomorrow.

But his heart still felt adrift, as soft as the mattress beneath him.

For the first time since his grandfather’s passing, he felt relaxed, transformed from mud and sand in a hollow to a wisp of cloud. Though the environment was completely unfamiliar, as if in a dream.

It didn’t matter if it was a dream.

At least he dared to dream of these things, didn’t he?

Li Wu closed his eyes drowsily.

When he woke again, the room was still dark, impossible to distinguish day from night.

Li Wu immediately rolled out of bed, slipped on his slippers, and rushed out of the room.

Cen Jin was eating breakfast in the living room. After getting up, she had already communicated with her father about this matter and explained all her plans.

Her father was very approving and supportive, immediately taking action, saying he could give her an answer by the afternoon.

Hearing the second bedroom door, Cen Jin looked over and smiled gently: “Awake?”

Li Wu nodded slightly, yesterday night’s events making him somewhat ashamed, completely unable to meet Cen Jin’s eyes.

“Come sit,” she had to remind him: “I ordered congee for you, it’s good for the stomach.”

Li Wu sat down across from her without a word.

Cen Jin lifted the lid off the congee bowl: “Is your stomach still hurting?”

Li Wu hurriedly shook his head.

Cen Jin smiled faintly, passing him a spoon: “I was careless, ordering so much—how could your stomach handle it?”

“…No,” Li Wu struggled to speak: “I ate too much.”

Cen Jin scooped up a shrimp wonton, blew on it, and said without looking up: “Eat more if you can, you need to put on some weight, you’re so thin.”

Li Wu also scooped up some congee and put it in his mouth.

The congee had an orange fragrance, melting instantly, and thoroughly cooked. He immediately took a second spoonful.

The woman across from him fell silent. Li Wu looked up to find her watching him, her eyes curved in a smile.

She was bathed in light, a soft glow surrounding her.

Li Wu uncomfortably put down his spoon, letting it sink into the congee.

Cen Jin blinked in confusion: “Why did you stop eating?” She realized: “Is it because I’m watching you?”

Li Wu wanted to say no—well, yes and no.

Cen Jin explained: “Watching you eat makes me quite happy… well, satisfied you could say…” As if she had taken in a lonely distant cousin, finding some self-worth in providing food and warmth: “I won’t watch anymore, eat well, eat more. I ordered two portions, there’s more if it’s not enough.”

Li Wu immediately bent his head to drink the congee. Cen Jin’s lips curved up as she lowered her gaze to finish her wontons.

They didn’t disturb each other, the dining table particularly peaceful.

Cen Jin didn’t have much appetite, eating only half before covering the paper bag and pushing the packaging aside.

She opened WeChat—her father hadn’t sent a message yet, unknown how things were progressing.

She switched to her work group chat, unmuting it. Her WeChat, silent for days, suddenly became lively, gaining vitality.

Cen Jin’s thumb scrolled up, browsing through the messages she had put out of her mind for several days. Wu Fu’s username flashed by multiple times—he was chatting amicably with colleagues, steadily advancing projects.

The upheaval in their marriage seemed merely a light scratch to him, leaving no trace.

Her fingertip paused as she clicked to view Wu Fu’s profile. He had already changed his profile picture—no longer the couple photo they had used together. His Moments hadn’t been updated for half a month.

Cen Jin stared at his blank status, her thoughts gradually drifting, her gaze moving to her fingernails.

She hadn’t gotten her nails done for days, the nail beds becoming uneven, just like their relationship she had neglected to maintain. By the time she realized it, it was an agonizing separation.

As emotions welled up, Cen Jin’s eyelashes trembled involuntarily, like delicate flowers in the wind.

Considering there was still a child sitting across from her, she didn’t want to show too much of her negative state.

She quickly looked up at Li Wu. The young man was still drinking congee, just drinking congee—even though three appetizing side dishes were laid out before him, he hadn’t touched them with his chopsticks.

Cen Jin said: “Have some side dishes too, congee alone is tasteless.”

Li Wu looked at her: “The congee is sweet.”

His gaze was sincere and honest. Cen Jin hadn’t seen such eyes for a long time, so clean, so bright, bringing to mind many moving words: stars, clear mirrors, snowy ravines, the halo on pine branches… These had nothing to do with his experiences—misfortune seemed to have become purification and baptism for these eyes.

“Whose eyes did you inherit, your mother’s?” she guessed.

Li Wu made an affirming sound.

Cen Jin said: “She must have been very beautiful.”

Li Wu said: “I don’t remember clearly.” Of his parents, not a single photo remained, and his mother’s features had been worn away by time, becoming blurred in memory.

Cen Jin hadn’t meant to touch on his pain: “Sorry, I was just asking casually.”

“It’s nothing,” Li Wu’s expression was normal: “It’s fine.”

He repeated it, unclear who the second time was meant for.

Cen Jin quietly watched him: “Li Wu, in the future, if you have any difficulties, tell me. Think of me as family, okay?”

Li Wu paused, nodded, and also spoke: “But I’ll still repay your money.”

He had said this several times, each time with the same determination.

“That’s entirely up to you, but your immediate priority is studying,” Cen Jin sighed internally: “Don’t worry about repaying now, wait until you’re earning your own money.”

She deliberately teased to lighten the mood: “Do I look very old? Do I look like I can’t wait?”

The young man’s lips suddenly quirked up, two dimples appearing briefly at the corners of his mouth.

Cen Jin noticed and attempted to tease him further, pretending to be angry: “You’re laughing?”

“Not old.” Li Wu said softly.

Cen Jin hadn’t heard clearly: “What did you say?”

Li Wu fell silent again, lowering his eyes to eat congee.

Cen Jin didn’t press him, propping her face up to continue looking at her phone, the screen still paused on Wu Fu’s WeChat profile. But after this interruption, her previous melancholy had dissipated. Li Wu had pulled her back again.

She tapped the screen to exit, and at that moment, a new message caught her eye.

Dad: Daughter, it’s settled. Take him to Yi Zhong at 3 PM.

Dad: This is Teacher Qi’s number, 13XXXXXXXX, remember to contact him before going.

Cen Jin instantly felt refreshed, replying with a “silly salute” emoji, asking: Do we need any paperwork from his previous school?

Father Cen: Should I call you to explain? Is now convenient?

Cen Jin hurriedly refused: No, the child is beside me, I don’t want him to hear these things.

Father Cen said: That’s considerate.

Father Cen continued: Old Qi said he’s already contacted Nongxi, no need to rush the paperwork. Take him over this afternoon to meet first. If the child is good, he can join classes in the next couple of days. We can’t delay his studies.

Cen Jin: Yes, you’re very thoughtful too, truly worthy of being my father.

Father Cen: Of course.

However, Father Cen changed their tone: Going directly into the experimental class might be tricky. Old Qi says the teaching level at township high schools can’t compare with Yi Zhong. Dropping straight into the top class might be too much—better to adjust in a regular class first. If his grades are really good and he improves quickly, he can transfer classes before senior year.

Cen Jin pondered briefly: Yes, that’s better.

Father Cen said: You can get moving now. Whatever thoughts you have, just tell Old Qi then. He and I are close, he won’t brush things off.

Cen Jin sent another string of grateful compliments, making her father feel pleased and content.

Finally, the old man stopped chatting with her to attend to his work, and she put down her phone, telling Li Wu: “Eat more.”

Li Wu looked up at her.

Cen Jin, in high spirits, cleared her throat and announced: “This afternoon we’ll go to Yi Zhong to register.”

Li Wu almost choked, completely unprepared for it to happen so quickly. Last night he thought Cen Jin was just talking casually, describing an ideal situation, but unexpectedly, in just one night, she had already opened the door for him.

Accustomed to hardship, when everything went unexpectedly smoothly, he felt suspended, afraid that everything before him wasn’t real.

Cen Jin saw his daze and encouraged: “Don’t worry, you’ll definitely be able to continue school. As long as you stay grounded, hard work won’t let you down.”

Li Wu’s nose tightened, he bit his teeth, put down his spoon, and said heavily: “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Cen Jin’s lips curved up.

——

In the afternoon, Cen Jin changed into a simple square-necked dress that reached her knees, making her look gentle yet dignified.

After tying a low ponytail, she walked to Li Wu’s door.

The young man was half-squatting inside packing his schoolbag, wearing a navy blue shirt and faded jeans, his gray schoolbag clearly well-used, showing signs of mending.

But she didn’t want to point this out directly, only thinking that everything must be replaced before he starts boarding school.

She truly felt something of raising a child, and found she didn’t reject it—on the contrary, she enjoyed it.

Perhaps it wasn’t exactly the feeling of raising a child—clothes make the man, a new start deserves a new appearance, isn’t that right?

Cen Jin was lost in thought, not even noticing when Li Wu came to stand before her.

She was blocking the door, and he couldn’t get out.

She was spacing out, and he didn’t want to interrupt.

Cen Jin finally came back to herself, looking up to see the young man’s quiet face.

Her crossed arms quickly dropped as she examined Li Wu up close. Though his clothes weren’t impressive, he made up for it with his height and good posture, without the hunched shoulders of city kids who used too many electronic devices—that could be counted as an advantage.

Cen Jin asked: “Have you organized all your test papers?”

Li Wu: “Mm.”

Cen Jin: “Just bring the ones with good scores, don’t bring them all.”

“…” Li Wu said: “I brought them all.”

Cen Jin paused: “Silly, take out anything below 120.”

Li Wu immediately took off his backpack, pulled open the zipper, and took out the stack of papers again.

They had been kept extremely neat, without any curled edges or folded corners.

Regardless of high or low scores, they had all been carefully treasured by their owner.

Cen Jin suddenly felt somewhat guilty: “Never mind, bring them all.”

Li Wu: “?”

“Good or bad, they’re all you—this is more authentic.” She spoke offhandedly, tucking her hair behind her ear, pretending to casually avoid his confused eyes.

Li Wu put them back.

“Let’s go,” seeing him put on his backpack, as if donning armor, Cen Jin’s heart beat faster, also inexplicably feeling a sense of mission, as if sending a young general to battle, “We’re going to school.”