“The girl was quite tough, too — you could tell she wasn’t full, but she kept forcing herself to eat one spoonful at a time. I hear life isn’t easy for celebrities — not allowed to eat and whatnot. She must be hungry, thin as she is.”

That day, Nan Chu had genuinely surprised the auntie. She’d expected a picky little princess of a girl, and then the girl went ahead and finished someone else’s leftover rice without a second thought. Thinking of it, the auntie paused and glanced at Lin Luxiao. “You shouldn’t be so harsh on her all the time. Don’t go scaring the girl.”

Lin Luxiao kept his head down and ate quickly, casual in his reply: “That one’s got nerves of steel.”

“Nerves or not, she’s still a girl. Don’t go treating her like one of your rough-and-tumble squad lads. She earns her living by her appearance — show a little consideration. Don’t be too brutal about it.”

The auntie wore the expression of someone thinking: this boy really doesn’t know what he’s doing.

Lin Luxiao set his bowl down, deflecting a little: “I just got done being dressed down by Director Meng, and now you’re starting on me too?”

The auntie knew Lin Luxiao well enough. Whatever he felt on the inside — even if he genuinely cared about that girl — he would never say so out loud. So that one pointed remark was enough. The boy had a sharp mind; he’d figure it out himself.

The auntie quietly gathered her serving dishes and left, leaving Lin Luxiao alone with his meal.

At that, he lost his appetite. He quickly finished what was left, went to the small pavilion at the entrance, and lit a cigarette. His thoughts turned round and round like a spinning lantern — every image was of this girl: her face, and those two short little braids pinned behind her ears the first time they’d met.

Their first meeting wasn’t at a fire scene, and it wasn’t at a hospital either.

Or rather — it was even earlier than that.

It should have been when he was in his first year of high school. Lin Qingyuan was still a secretary back then. He and Da Liu and that group of boys used to hang out at the alley entrance, smoking and teasing the fortune-telling blind man, when one day Da Liu came to him hemming and hawing about something — kept hinting but wouldn’t come out with it. Under Lin Luxiao’s pressure, Da Liu finally told him what he had seen that day.

“I was at a tutoring session with Xu Yun, and on the way we saw your father’s car parked outside a hotel. I said that’s your dad’s car, Xu Yun didn’t believe me, so I made a bet with her — said we’d wait at the entrance and your dad would definitely come out, maybe you were even in there. Xu Yun was being stubborn that day for some reason and actually staked out the entrance with me. Then we saw your dad come out — with a woman.”

At that point, Lin Luxiao’s hand, holding the cigarette, went still. His expression turned a little cold.

Da Liu glanced at him nervously, unsure whether to keep going. Lin Luxiao looked at him, his gaze growing heavier. “Keep talking.”

Da Liu was like a tube of toothpaste — you had to give him a squeeze to get anything out. He finally, haltingly, told the full story.

“The woman — I’d seen her before. She was an actress. She was wearing sunglasses, so I didn’t get a clear look. But she seemed familiar — I’d seen her on TV before, just couldn’t remember the name. I caught a few words of conversation — sounded like they met at that hotel regularly.”

It couldn’t have been that regular — for a long stretch afterward, the four of them staked the place out and saw nothing. It wasn’t until near the end of the first semester of first year, as the first frost began to set in, that Lin Luxiao saw Lin Qingyuan’s car leave tracks through the snow and stop in front of the hotel.

Not long after, Nan Yueru arrived — and with her, a small child. A girl of seven or eight, with two little braids, a round, rosy face, absolutely adorable, with a pair of wide, clear eyes whose pupils moved with an alert, watchful quickness.

Innocent and guileless, yet somehow careful and guarded at the same time.

The four of them observed from their hiding spot for a good while. After about twenty minutes, Nan Yueru was the first to come down, with the little girl in tow. Behind them came Lin Qingyuan. Then Nan Yueru sent the little girl off on her own and got back into Lin Qingyuan’s car and left.

The little girl didn’t leave. She stood in place watching her mother’s car drive away, then finally turned around.

The moment she turned — little Nan Chu had the misfortune of being “captured” by four boys.

It was Da Liu’s idea: “Let’s grab her and ask her — then we’ll know for sure.”

“Going after a seven- or eight-year-old girl — have you no conscience?”

The one voicing concern was Sun Mingyang — who then promptly turned around and grabbed the child himself.

Throughout the entire process, Lin Luxiao leaned against the wall smoking, saying nothing.

Da Liu dug a blindfold out of his bag and slipped it over the girl’s head, tied her hands, and pushed her into the corner of the alley. “Little sister, don’t be afraid. Your big brothers aren’t going to do anything to you. We just simply want to ask you something.”

Nan Chu sat on the ground, blindfolded, her hands bound behind her back. Her expression was surprisingly calm. “Go ahead and ask.”

Despite that composure, she was still a child. There was a slight tremor in her voice — though none of the boys caught it, and she was doing her best not to let it show.

Then Da Liu jabbed Lin Luxiao in the side: “Ask her.”

Having the lot of them gang up on one little girl — Lin Luxiao found it beneath him. He also noticed the girl’s features were delicate and clear. He pushed Da Liu away with irritation. “What is there to ask? Let’s go.”

He turned to leave. Da Liu blocked him: “You’re really not going to ask? After all this? Maybe she’s actually your little sister.”

Even Shen Mu knew this much: “Unlikely — I checked. Seven or eight years ago, the two of them didn’t know each other yet.”

Da Liu started to say something else.

Lin Luxiao had no patience for it. He walked straight over, pulled the little girl to her feet, undid her bindings, bent down, kept a hand on her shoulder, and said quietly in her ear: “Now — walk forward. Don’t look back. Otherwise I can’t promise what my friends might do to you. Understand?”

He gave her shoulder a gentle pat.

It must have been snowing that day. The alley was narrow; the ground was layered with snow. Nan Chu pressed her foot into it and it crunched beneath her — she nodded frantically, like a little chick pecking at grain.

Lin Luxiao looked down and smiled slightly. “— You’re scared now, are you?”

Nan Chu shook her head. “You’re not bad people. I know.”

Lin Luxiao laughed so hard his face contracted. “That’s just when your big brother isn’t being bad. You haven’t seen what I’m like when I am.”

Then he removed the blindfold and pushed her on her way.

Lin Luxiao stood in the snow with his hands in his pockets, watching her retreating figure. The little girl really didn’t look back — walking in a perfectly straight line toward the sunlight at the alley’s end. She did pause a few times along the way, only to be called back each time by Lin Luxiao.

The next time was when she was sixteen and he had just graduated from military academy. He saved her. In the hospital, the girl pleaded with him. Over the years he’d heard quite a lot about Nan Yueru, and about this daughter of hers. He knew Nan Yueru paid little attention to Nan Chu. When they’d come out of the fire scene, someone on the unit had contacted Nan Yueru’s people — it was the assistant who picked up. There was a pause of two or three seconds, and then the assistant told them: Nan Yueru would handle it when she returned to the country next month.

A squadmate hung up the phone and muttered: “Her daughter is in the hospital and she can’t even ask a single question — what kind of mother is that——”

Lin Luxiao had been standing nearby, silently smoking.

That Nan Chu had grown up to be who she was was really down to her own sheer force of will. It wasn’t surprising that her character had developed this way. Ordinarily indifferent to most things, yet somehow — in small, precise details — she’d catch you off guard.

Like just now. That had genuinely struck something in his chest. A faint ache, and something that swelled.

……

During the afternoon training session, Nan Chu was unusually cooperative. She didn’t argue with him once. Whatever was asked, she engaged with actively — even if the results weren’t quite up to standard, the movements soft and lacking tension. He reached over several times to correct her form. Unlike before, the girl didn’t seize the opportunity to get closer or steal a casual touch. Instead, she maintained a careful, appropriate distance and tried her best not to make physical contact.

Lin Luxiao found this puzzling.

She had always been so fond of touching him before.

For example —

During afternoon training in firefighting suit drills, Nan Chu couldn’t get her waist belt buckled. Lin Luxiao watched her struggle with it for a long time without success — until Liu Xiahan tapped her on the shoulder and placed a hand on her waist. “Let me take a look.”

Nan Chu lowered her eyes and handed over the belt: “Sure.”

Lin Luxiao walked over, lowering his voice: “What’s going on?”

Nan Chu didn’t even look up: “Can’t get it buckled.”

Lin Luxiao pushed Liu Xiahan aside, took the belt from him, bent down to thread it around her waist — but the words he directed at Liu Xiahan were: “Go put yours on. I’ll be checking. If you can’t get it on in fifty seconds, you’re doing five laps.”

Liu Xiahan: “Fifty seconds is already something I can manage.”

Lin Luxiao: “Then forty seconds.”

“……”

Liu Xiahan felt that this instructor was being especially strict today, but — the man was the instructor. Reluctantly and somewhat indignantly, he turned and walked away.

Lin Luxiao crouched slightly, his arms threading around behind Nan Chu without quite touching her. “Arms up.”

Nan Chu obediently raised her arms.

Lin Luxiao hadn’t expected her to be so compliant. Normally she’d have seized the opportunity to sneak a little squeeze, or let her eyes do the teasing — and somehow, Lin Luxiao found himself oddly thrown off.

He glanced at her sideways, mildly baffled.

Nan Chu stood with her arms raised, her expression open and untroubled.

Lin Luxiao threaded the belt tail through the buckle and yanked — the large firefighting suit immediately cinched tight around her, the shape of her waist suddenly visible. Slender enough to be alarming.

Good lord. She was that thin.

Lin Luxiao hesitated, worried his grip strength would snap her in half.

Under normal circumstances —

Nan Chu would definitely say: “Water-snake waist — bet you’ve never seen one.”

Lin Luxiao found he could practically hear her tone and picture her expression — yet Nan Chu simply looked up at him perfectly normally and asked: “What’s wrong?”

Lin Luxiao decided his head must be malfunctioning. He shook it and quickly fastened the belt. Then let go.

Clap — the belt went loose again.

Nan Chu looked at him with an expression of resigned exasperation.

Lin Luxiao’s gaze flicked over to Xu Ya and Yan Dai: “How come theirs stayed on?”

Nan Chu rolled her eyes: “How would I know?”

Lin Luxiao held out his hand: “Give me the belt. I think the buckle hole wasn’t threaded correctly.”

Nan Chu held it out obediently.

Lin Luxiao glanced at her. Since when was she this well-behaved?

Nan Chu gave him the earnest, good-girl look of someone asking: “What is it?”

“……”

Shao Yijiu came over with a tool kit and passed it to Lin Luxiao. “I guessed at the belt size based on Yan Dai’s measurements since you missed the measuring session due to the heat stroke — figured all three of you girls would be roughly similar. Didn’t expect you to be this thin.”

Lin Luxiao crouched on the ground adjusting the belt.

Nan Chu: “It’s fine.”

Shao Yijiu: “I heard you were a model before. Makes sense you’d have such a great figure — that must have been tough going. I heard from the crew that models are only allowed to eat until they’re about thirty percent full.”

Nan Chu: “That’s nonsense. Haven’t you seen the news? Supermodel competitions have chicken leg-eating contests.”

Shao Yijiu scratched the back of his head, not sure whether Nan Chu was serious or joking. He just hoped she wasn’t going hungry. He laughed his earnest laugh: “Impressive.”

“You’re gullible — you’d actually believe that?”

Shao Yijiu grinned. “Whatever you say, I’ll believe.”

Upon hearing that, Lin Luxiao finished adjusting the belt, stood up, and handed it to Nan Chu. “Should work now.” Then he turned to look at Shao Yijiu: “What are you hanging around here for?”

Shao Yijiu’s face went rigid and he bolted.

Nan Chu put it on and buckled it. She flashed a smile at Lin Luxiao. “Thank you. Did you just think I was doing that on purpose?”

Lin Luxiao: “On purpose to do what?”

“On purpose not being able to buckle the belt, just to get your attention.” She lowered her voice, making sure no one was watching: “I’m not going to tease you anymore. For real.”

“Good. Glad you’ve thought it through.”

Lin Luxiao himself hadn’t noticed that his voice had come out flat and stiff — and there was a faint undercurrent of something almost like relief.

During the training break, they got five minutes of rest.

Lin Luxiao had Shao Yijiu go to the cafeteria and fetch a crate of water bottles. In the shade of the trees, he distributed them one per person. It was a scorching hot day — everyone suited up in those massive firefighting suits was basically being steamed alive, sweat pouring in rivers.

The few actors were in decent spirits, sitting together and chatting. Nan Chu sat next to Liu Xiahan, quietly drinking water, occasionally contributing a few words.

The others were all relatively fine —

Except that between Yan Dai and Nan Chu, the atmosphere was a little charged. Whatever Nan Chu said, Yan Dai had a way to rebut it. By the end, Nan Chu simply stopped speaking. Yan Dai’s old problem was acting up — she was clearly looking for an argument.

……

Nan Chu only found out later that Yan Dai’s mood had entirely stemmed from the belt incident that morning — she thought Nan Chu had been showing off her tiny waist on purpose, and it set off a cascade of picking at Nan Chu for everything that followed.

That was Nan Chu’s way — easy-going and indifferent. You dislike me, then dislike me. I don’t particularly like you either. She wasn’t a pushover, and she wouldn’t go out of her way to make amends just because someone was hostile toward her. She had her own small world, and could find her own things to do — but she also wouldn’t go out of her way to avoid you, which would only make things awkward for everyone.

Yan Dai was the opposite. She would make deliberate efforts to avoid Nan Chu, making it obvious she disliked her, wearing her feelings on her sleeve. With that little-princess mentality — if she hated someone, everyone else should hate them too. So she tried to rope Xu Ya in, to have Xu Ya dislike Nan Chu with her.

Xu Ya was sharp enough. She understood every little power play between girls perfectly well. She would never take a fixed side. Knowing how to read the room was a basic survival skill in the entertainment industry. And honestly, compared to Yan Dai’s petty, narrow-hearted temperament, Xu Ya genuinely admired Nan Chu’s big-picture ease.

Girls have one particular talent.

No matter how terrible the private relationship is, they can maintain a perfectly smooth surface in front of a group of men.

At lights-out, the female dormitory went quiet — washing up and sleeping. The male dormitory was an entirely different world: loud, lively, everyone chatting and joking.

When Lin Luxiao finished his late-night training session and came in, Shao Yijiu was deep in animated conversation with a group of the firefighters. The moment he entered, the room went dead silent. The squad members scattered — he called them back, removed his cap, dragged a chair over and sat down, crossed his ankle over his knee, and swept a look around the room. “What were you talking about?”

Everyone exchanged glances, not daring to speak.

There was nothing particularly wrong with it, actually — it was just after-hours idle chatter and gossip. They could have told the commander without any problem. It was just that the sudden gravity of the moment had silenced everyone, and with no one taking the lead, nobody wanted to be the first to open their mouth.

In the end, Shao Yijiu, as squad leader, stepped up: “Actually, nothing major. Everyone was bored. Xiao Jiu just shared a piece of gossip — turns out Yan Dai and Nan Chu used to be romantic rivals. Then everyone’s imaginations started running and we had a bit of a discussion about which of the two was prettier. No ill intent — just a casual chat.”

Lin Luxiao leaned back in his chair, relaxed: “Oh. Did you come to a conclusion?”

Xiao Jiu raised his hand first: “I vote Nan Chu!”

Someone objected: “I vote Yan Dai — she’s prettier when she smiles.”

“Definitely Nan Chu! Great legs, tiny waist — she’s a model!”

“Xu Ya! The girl is adorable! Sweet and kind!”

“……”

Finally Shao Yijiu raised a hesitant hand: “I’ll go with Nan Chu too then.”

Nan Chu won by a landslide — it wasn’t even close.

Nan Chu herself had no idea — on this anonymous night, she’d been named the unit’s sweetheart.

Lin Luxiao rubbed his nose.

Strange. Why did this feel like winning a battle?

……