Cen Jin saw the message at work immediately and felt annoyed.

She had thought the two cartons of cigarettes would settle their debt, but Zhou Sui’an was still thinking about this dinner.

She replied to confirm: “I remember you said it was canceled last time.”

Zhou Sui’an responded: “It was only temporarily canceled.”

He was good at finding loopholes. Cen Jin could only concede: “Fine.”

Zhou Sui’an asked: “You deliberately had your boyfriend deliver them, right?”

Cen Jin wasn’t shy about it: “Yes.”

Zhou Sui’an said: “You two are well-matched.”

Cen Jin replied: “Thank you.”

There was no further response from his end. Cen Jin closed the chat window and continued pushing the creative team for the splash page poster and slogan.

Lu Qiqi complained: “You’re terrible! Since going to the client department, you’ve become a capitalist exploiting us poor laborers.”

Cen Jin replied: “Aren’t I more like the former wet nurse and current housekeeper of the landlord’s foolish sons?”

Lu Qiqi took the hit: “…Damn, you got me there.”

Cen Jin’s lips curved slightly. Just as she was about to reply, Zhou Sui’an’s message tab lit up again. Cen Jin opened it to find a refined photograph of white flowers that looked somewhat like magnolia, somewhat like gardenia, but not quite either. Being outside her expertise, Cen Jin couldn’t identify them.

Remembering what he had said last time, the woman’s face turned cold as she played dumb: “Did you send this to the wrong person?”

Zhou Sui’an fell silent once again.

Already used to his deliberate mysteriousness, Cen Jin took a sip of coffee and switched to messaging Li Wu: “Zhou told me he received the cigarettes. Thanks for making the trip!”

She added a sticker of a little girl making a kissing face.

Li Wu sent back the same sticker.

Cen Jin scoffed: “So perfunctory.”

Li Wu: “I saved all my stickers from you.”

Cen Jin: “Are you a young college student? Such a small collection.”

Li Wu: “Wait for it.”

And so, Li Wu sent the same message to all his WeChat groups and male friends: “Can you send me similar stickers? Urgent.”

He attached the kissing sticker Cen Jin had called perfunctory as a reference.

Of course, some were kind enough to help, while others cursed at his unusual way of flaunting his relationship.

Twenty minutes later, all sorts of kissing stickers flooded in until Cen Jin was dazzled. Finally, she laughingly called for him to stop, and Li Wu asked: “Still think I’m being perfunctory?”

Cen Jin replied with a masked yellow face: “I wouldn’t dare say that now, my lips are swollen.”

Only then was Li Wu satisfied, obediently heading off to class.

…

Around five in the afternoon, Cen Jin received another message from Zhou Sui’an saying he was just returning from the botanical garden and passing by Aoxing, so they could take care of this dinner.

Cen Jin replied: “I haven’t finished work yet.”

Zhou Sui’an responded: “I can wait for you.”

Cen Jin checked her schedule and found she had no plans for the evening.

Not wanting to keep postponing this matter day after day, Cen Jin agreed.

After explaining the situation to her director and getting permission to leave early, Cen Jin tidied her desk, shut down her computer, and went downstairs to meet him.

It was raining outside. Cen Jin was always forgetting things and had accidentally left her umbrella in the office again. Using her bag as cover would look undignified, so she just walked forward through the rain.

When they met at the nearby electronics store, Zhou Sui’an’s first words were: “Does your family have a vendetta against umbrellas?”

Cen Jin was taken aback: “What?”

Zhou Sui’an smiled without speaking, taking out a neatly folded gray checkered handkerchief from his pocket and offering it to her, gesturing for her to dry off.

It was rare to see men carrying handkerchiefs these days. Cen Jin was somewhat surprised but still declined, reaching into her bag instead: “I have tissues.”

Her impenetrable, uncompromising manner amused Zhou Sui’an, who put away the handkerchief and watched her with a silent smile.

Cen Jin quickly dabbed her cheeks and hair, then looked up at him through wet lashes: “Where would you like to eat?”

Zhou Sui’an turned his face, his gaze passing through the dark, misty rain to the restaurant logos flickering on the high-rises: “Any recommendations around here?”

Cen Jin thought for a few seconds: “Are you vegetarian?”

Zhou Sui’an shook his head: “Why do you ask?”

Cen Jin said: “Because you’re a botanist.”

Zhou Sui’an caught her meaning and smiled faintly: “By that logic, every monk would be a zoologist.”

“Don’t take it seriously,” Cen Jin looked down at her phone, searching for a few seconds before suggesting: “How about Italian?”

Zhou Sui’an said: “Anything is fine.”

Cen Jin was familiar with the restaurant owner. After confirming they wouldn’t need to wait for a table, she led Zhou Sui’an there.

Leaving the electronics store, Zhou Sui’an opened his umbrella. The canopy was large, like an impressive black dome. They didn’t need to walk very close to stay dry, so Cen Jin no longer minded and walked alongside him.

It was quiet under the umbrella, with only the soft patter of raindrops creating chaotic little transparent footprints above, some slipping playfully off the edges.

Zhou Sui’an said: “Don’t you think the rain is like the sky painting?”

At this moment, Cen Jin wasn’t adept at such poetic thoughts: “But rain has no color.”

“Everything on the ground becomes the paint. Some colors become more vibrant, like oil paintings, while others fade lighter, like watercolors.”

Cen Jin nodded slightly, finding his words reasonable.

Zhou Sui’an said: “No wonder Miss Cen is just an AM and not a writer.”

Cen Jin gave a slight laugh: “You don’t need to take this chance to mock me. I used to be a senior copywriter, after all.”

“You’re no longer like a mountain Michelle now, more like a Cherokee rose,” Zhou Sui’an still looked straight ahead, his tone content, unaffected by her irritation.

“Are those both plants?” His topic completely confused Cen Jin.

“Mountain Michelia is the flower I sent you this morning. Cherokee rose is another white-flowering plant from the rose family, but its flower stalks, sepals, and petioles all turn into thorns.”

Cen Jin processed this: “Are we going to talk about these things throughout dinner?”

Zhou Sui’an said: “We can if you’re interested.”

Cen Jin stopped at the restaurant entrance, giving a dry laugh: “Are there other options, like quietly enjoying the food?”

Zhou Sui’an folded his umbrella, shaking it gently: “Then it would be sharing a table rather than dining together.”

―

During the meal, Cen Jin somewhat regretted bringing Zhou Sui’an for Italian.

Not because of the expensive seasonal set menu, but because the man’s discussion about white truffles could almost qualify as a graduate thesis on the spot.

His passionate display of botanical knowledge was astonishing.

To be fair, he spoke in an interesting and easily understandable way, even using various analogies to aid comprehension.

Unfortunately, to Cen Jin, it seemed like a form of venting. She wasn’t his student, and could only lazily prop her chin, feigning patience while enduring his eloquent discourse.

At first, Cen Jin maintained a slight smile, but later she simply rolled up her sweater sleeves in agitation, struggling between wanting to strangle him or herself.

She began to believe Zhou Sui’an’s words—surely few people could withstand his encyclopedia-like conversational style.

Essentially, he was still an old scholar in an artist’s skin.

During the meal, the man finally paused, taking a sip of red wine in momentary silence.

The server brought the truffle-topped rockfish, and Zhou Sui’an lowered his eyes to look at it before asking: “You don’t mind if I take a photo of our little friends here?”

His phrasing made it sound like taking a group photo of children. Cen Jin didn’t object: “Go ahead.”

Zhou Sui’an took out his phone, captured two angles casually, and then put his phone away.

Cen Jin asked: “How’s the taste?”

Zhou Sui’an carefully tasted the rockfish, then began a detailed analysis of each dish’s texture layers, pairing levels, and nutritional value, so thoroughly he could have been the restaurant’s nutritionist.

Cen Jin: “…”

Nearly in tears as they reached the end, Cen Jin let out a long breath and glanced at Zhou Sui’an’s reaction.

The man showed no unusual expression, his features and demeanor were still relaxed. He appeared satisfied and content. Cen Jin felt relieved too, grateful to heaven that they could finally turn this page.

They said goodbye at the restaurant door. The rain was heavier than when they arrived, the world strange and kaleidoscopic like a washed-out aquarium.

The ground reflected all the city’s fleeting images in reverse.

Cen Jin and Zhou Sui’an stood under the eaves, silent for a moment, neither making the first move.

The rain showed no signs of letting up. Zhou Sui’an held his coat in one hand and extended the closed umbrella toward her with the other, saying: “You take it.”

Cen Jin discreetly stepped back half a step, refusing: “No need.”

Once she accepted this umbrella, she would have to return it, creating a back-and-forth that could potentially go on endlessly.

For such an unpredictable man, keeping his distance was the best option.

Even if his intentions might be genuine, Cen Jin wouldn’t let herself return to a passive position.

She would rather get wet in the rain.

Let tonight be their last meeting.

“My company’s parking garage is nearby, less than two hundred meters.” To prevent Zhou Sui’an from trying to persuade her, Cen Jin stepped forward, unhesitatingly walking into the rain. This time she held her tote bag over her head, proving she could use it as shelter, fearless.

Zhou Sui’an withdrew his hand, just watching her. The man’s expression was somber, like a white paper lantern against his black shirt.

As she turned, Cen Jin lowered her bag and walked quickly toward the building.

After about five meters, a sudden call came from behind: “Cen Jin―”

Cen Jin stopped, her vision somewhat blurred by the water. Just as she was about to turn around, a warm and smooth barrier descended over her head, separating her from the cold, wet world.

Cen Jin gathered her thoughts and realized it was a coat. She turned to look for him, but her peripheral vision was equally limited, preventing her from facing him directly.

“If you won’t take the umbrella, use this.”

“Goodbye.”

With a whoosh, someone opened an umbrella, followed by the same farewell as last time, sounding like a hoarse spell in the rain.

Cen Jin froze for a moment, quickly lifting the coat to return to the drizzling rain.

But regrettably, she could only see Zhou Sui’an’s figure walking in the opposite direction, holding his umbrella, black clothes against black pants, like a puddle that had taken human form.

Cen Jin’s hair was soaked, sticking to her cheeks. She brushed it aside and called out urgently: “Mr. Zhou―”

The man seemed not to hear, only glancing back at her once before hailing a taxi and getting in.

Cen Jin watched helplessly as the car roared away, its back windows tightly closed, its wheels crushing a ground full of light and shadow.

―

Back in her car, Cen Jin carelessly tossed the coat onto the passenger seat.

She hadn’t worn it back and was completely soaked, shivering in the not-yet-warmed car cabin.

She looked at the black coat for a while, feeling as annoyed as if she were staring at an impolite shackle. After a moment, she leaned back in her seat, thinking about how to handle this piece of clothing.

She quickly had a method―

Step One: Wash, and clean this coat properly.

Step Two: Clear, contact courier service to mail it to F University.

In the neighborhood, Cen Jin stopped at the dry cleaners, went around to the passenger side to retrieve the coat, and took it inside.

Her demeanor was fierce, rather like a hunter carrying a dying black hawk to the slaughterhouse for skinning and bone removal.

The owner, seeing a familiar customer, broke into a smile and greeted her, turning to find her a dry towel.

Cen Jin said there was no need, dropping the coat onto the counter: “Please wash this coat, take it from my card.”

The owner took it, checking the label, “It’ll need to be charged as luxury care.”

“I know. I’ll pick it up next week,” Cen Jin added: “Clean it thoroughly.” She didn’t want to leave any flaws or handles that might give him reason to contact her again.

The owner agreed and began checking the pockets. When he reached the right side, he paused, pulling out something card-shaped, glancing at it curiously before handing it to Cen Jin: “Is this yours?”

Cen Jin took it, her expression shifting slightly.

It was a botanical specimen card with a brown cardboard background. A white flower along with two green leaves were perfectly preserved and displayed under glass paper, looking vivid and lifelike.

The bottom right corner included the flower’s scientific name and a few brief, easy-to-understand notes in elegant handwriting.

Cen Jin turned the card over, finding only the Yi City Botanical Garden logo.

Confirming there was no more content, she held it between her fingers.

After saying goodbye to the owner, Cen Jin didn’t return to her car but walked in the rain for a while until she found the nearest trash can and threw the card in.

Her irritation hadn’t lessened.

When she went back to get her car, Cen Jin identified two new allergies: one to Zhou Sui’an, and one to mountain Michelia.