Once in the car, neither of them said anything.

Zhu Wenshu turned her head to look out the window, her gaze unfocused, watching the scenery rush past in a blur.

Until her attention slowly settled on the raindrops on the glass—

Her heartbeat matched the weight of the raindrops striking the window.

The car’s heater was on, warm air drifting gently in from every direction.

Wrapped in Ling Chen’s jacket, sitting beside him, Zhu Wenshu only came back to herself after a long moment, turning to ask, dazed, “…Why are you here?”

There was about half a meter of distance between their seats, lending his voice a certain remoteness, unlike those few steps under the umbrella, when even their breathing had felt close.

“Teacher Zhu.” Ling Chen seemed not to have expected such an obvious question, and looked away, eyelids drooping halfway. “This is the way home for me.”

“Oh…”

Zhu Wenshu lowered her eyes and nodded, then, “Huh?”

“What do you mean, ‘huh.'”

Ling Chen said, “I saw you.”

Saw her, huh.

Zhu Wenshu glanced out the car window, at the dense rain weaving into a net, dimming the streetlights to a faint glow, passersby flickering past like blurred fragments of light.

How could he have possibly seen her from all that?

She tilted her body slightly, glancing sideways at the window on Ling Chen’s side.

“What I meant was—”

Ling Chen raised a hand to block her head as she leaned inconspicuously toward him, slowly pushing her back to her own seat. “I saw your Moments post.”

“…Oh.”

Zhu Wenshu sat up straight, pulling her clothes closer around her, muttering, “And here I thought your eyes actually had night vision.”

She sank back into the seat, saying nothing more.

As the car approached the intersection, the driver hesitated over which lane to take, and finally settled into the straight lane, glancing back at the man staring out the window.

Sensing the driver’s gaze, Ling Chen met his eyes for a moment before turning to look at the person beside him.

“Teacher Zhu, if you don’t tell the driver your address soon—”

Ling Chen’s voice suddenly rang out again, and Zhu Wenshu jumped, turning to look at him in a daze.

He raised his eyes, their gazes meeting under the light. “You’ll just have to come home with me.”

“…”

Zhu Wenshu snapped back to attention and immediately said, “Guangming Road, Chenguang Garden, Phase One.”

The driver pulled up the navigation, checked the route, and looked a little exasperated.

These two had barely spoken since getting in the car, and now that they finally had, it was all nonsense, without a single word of substance.

As if both of them were somewhere else entirely.

The car made a U-turn at the next intersection and entered a stretch of road Zhu Wenshu recognized well.

The heater had left her feeling soft and drowsy all over, and she wanted to lean against the window, but the moment she lowered her head, she caught the scent still clinging to Ling Chen’s jacket.

Zhu Wenshu wasn’t a particularly talkative person, but she also wasn’t used to sitting in total silence with someone in an enclosed space.

Especially when the person beside her wasn’t a stranger.

But tonight, every time she thought of something to say, the air in the car seemed to move too slowly, the rain outside the window too chaotic, and neither would let her open her mouth.

The whole ride passed in silence.

The car stopped at the entrance to her apartment complex, the door opened, and a gust of rain-laced wind blew in.

Zhu Wenshu gripped the collar of Ling Chen’s jacket, hesitating over what to do.

The clothes had gotten dirty from the muddy water; she couldn’t very well return it without cleaning it first.

But if she wore it straight home, what if he minded?

“So this jacket…”

Zhu Wenshu began hesitantly.

“Just wear it home.”

Ling Chen said.

“Okay.”

Zhu Wenshu stopped worrying about it and nodded. “Then I’ll get it washed and return it to you.”

—

Watching Ling Chen’s car drive away, Zhu Wenshu turned around and ran into Ying Fei, strolling over with an umbrella in hand.

The rain had nearly stopped, so she hadn’t bothered opening it, giving her a clear view.

“You’re back.”

Ying Fei glanced at the car that had just left—clearly no ordinary rideshare. “A friend of yours? That’s quite the car.”

A faint drizzle still hung in the air, and Zhu Wenshu, not bothering to close her own umbrella, gave a soft “Mm.”

The lighting on the street wasn’t great, and seeing the jacket on Zhu Wenshu, Ying Fei simply assumed she’d worn it out that way, and didn’t think much of it.

It wasn’t until they got into the elevator, under the bright light, that she noticed—this was clearly a men’s suit jacket.

Ying Fei smiled, not particularly planning to ask further.

She thought it was fairly normal—a girl like Zhu Wenshu having someone pursuing her wasn’t unusual at all.

But when she took a closer look at the jacket, she suddenly realized things weren’t quite so simple.

“This friend of yours… it’s not just the car that’s impressive, this jacket’s pretty impressive too.”

“Huh?”

Zhu Wenshu glanced down at herself. “Isn’t it just a black suit jacket?”

Ying Fei knew she wasn’t being pretentious—she genuinely had no idea.

“What do you mean ‘just a black suit jacket’—this is a limited-edition designer piece.”

Hearing the words “designer piece,” Zhu Wenshu immediately took the jacket off.

But no matter how she looked at it, she couldn’t tell how it differed from a regular suit, and she couldn’t even find a single wash-care label.

“Don’t bother looking, this jacket doesn’t have a tag.”

Seeing her at a loss, Ying Fei reached out, flipped the jacket over, and pointed to a subtle logo woven into the lining.

Even though Zhu Wenshu didn’t follow fashion, she recognized that famous “D” logo well enough.

“You can even tell that just from looking?”

Zhu Wenshu was amazed—how did everyone else have such sharp eyes while she noticed nothing?

“Ye Shaoxing wore this exact set on the red carpet just a few days ago.”

Ying Fei finished, and seeing Zhu Wenshu’s blank expression, added, “Your friend didn’t even mention this to you?”

The elevator arrived at their floor just then, and the doors opened.

Ying Fei patted Zhu Wenshu’s shoulder, giving her a thumbs up, teasing, “I think this friend of yours is pretty great—understated but loaded. Worth getting close to.”

Zhu Wenshu stood dazed in the elevator for a moment, remembering her promise before getting out of the car—”I’ll get it washed and return it to you”—and her mind started buzzing with worry.

“Ying Fei!”

She hurried after her. “Do you know how I’m supposed to wash this?”

Ying Fei had been entirely focused on the suit jacket a moment ago, and only now noticed the mud stains on Zhu Wenshu’s own clothes.

“What happened to your dress? Did you fall?”

“Yeah, I slipped by accident.”

Zhu Wenshu was too anxious to care about her own clothes. “Is this suit jacket a hassle to clean?”

“Clean it…”

Ying Fei usually only paid attention to what brands her idols wore, never to how those clothes were washed. “Probably… you don’t wash it?”

Zhu Wenshu: “Huh?”

Rich people don’t mind their clothes getting dirty?!

Sensing Zhu Wenshu’s confusion, Ying Fei couldn’t help laughing.

“I don’t mean they never wash their clothes!”

She opened the front door and turned on the entryway light. “These kinds of clothes are just so precious that whoever wears something like this probably never plans to wear it a second time anyway.”

Zhu Wenshu: “…”

With Ying Fei unable to offer a solution either, Zhu Wenshu had no choice but to figure it out herself.

She went back to her room and searched online, but the pages only offered cleaning instructions for ordinary custom-tailored suits, with nothing specific about how to handle this particular brand’s designer pieces.

The only clear answer she could find echoed what Ying Fei had said.

—Don’t wash it.

But Zhu Wenshu couldn’t possibly return the jacket to Ling Chen covered in muddy water like this.

She sat at her desk thinking for a while, then picked up her phone and started calling dry cleaners one by one.

A few places said they could clean it, but when Zhu Wenshu asked if they could guarantee the garment’s quality wouldn’t be affected at all, they hedged and couldn’t give her a definite answer.

In the end, with no other options and unwilling to keep trying random solutions, she decided to just ask the owner of the jacket.

【Zhu Wenshu】: How should this jacket be cleaned? Anything I need to be careful of?

【Zhu Wenshu】: Or where do you usually get your clothes cleaned?

After a while, Ling Chen replied with just four words.

【c】: Don’t worry about it.

【Zhu Wenshu】: ?

【Zhu Wenshu】: That doesn’t seem right, it’s already dirty.

【c】: Just wash it however.

【Zhu Wenshu】: How can that be right? I know this jacket is expensive, just tell me somewhere I can take it to get it cleaned properly.

【c】: Then just give it back to me.

【c】: My assistant will take it somewhere that handles this kind of thing.

Zhu Wenshu thought it over seriously and realized this was probably indeed the best solution.

Someone like Ling Chen, whose styling mattered so much professionally, surely had a team dedicated to handling his wardrobe.

If she insisted on washing it herself, she might just end up making things worse.

【Zhu Wenshu】: Sigh.

【Zhu Wenshu】: I’m really sorry about this.

【Zhu Wenshu】: So when do you have time?

Her first thought had been to just mail it over, but considering how valuable the jacket was, she didn’t feel comfortable trusting it to a courier.

【Zhu Wenshu】: I’ll bring it to you.

This time, Ling Chen took a long while to reply.

【c】: Tomorrow after school.

【Zhu Wenshu】: After school?

【c】: Nanny’s off tomorrow.

【c】: Sorry to trouble you, Teacher Zhu, but could you bring my kid home too?

It was such a small favor, Zhu Wenshu readily agreed.

【Zhu Wenshu】: Sure.

After all that fuss the night before, in the end the jacket still had to go back to its owner unwashed anyway.

Zhu Wenshu wasn’t exactly relieved, still feeling a bit guilty about it, and got up to carefully wipe down the jacket with a towel, over and over, before folding it neatly into a bag.

—

The next day, she carried the bag to school with her.

Busy until the end of the school day, Ling Siyuan lined up at the very back of the group.

Once Zhu Wenshu had sent off all the other students, he finally shuffled slowly over to her side.

“Teacher, are you taking me home today?”

“That’s right.”

Zhu Wenshu took his hand, walking to the roadside to wait for a car. “Don’t you like it when teacher takes you home?”

“It’s not that…”

That morning, he’d learned Auntie Xiao had the day off, and had been thrilled, thinking he’d get to play games the moment he got home.

But then before he left for school, his uncle had told him Teacher Zhu would be taking him home after class—so much for his plan.

“Teacher, aren’t you going home yourself? Won’t your parents worry?”

“They probably will.”

A taxi pulled up in front of them, and Zhu Wenshu got in with Ling Siyuan, saying softly, “But teacher already told your mom and dad I’d take you home first, and besides, I have something to return to your dad.”

“Oh…”

Once they arrived home, Ling Siyuan lowered his head and pressed the door lock open.

Unlike last time, even in the deep of autumn, the apartment felt warm inside.

The living room lights were bright, and a few more potted plants had been added.

Ling Siyuan came in and changed his shoes, then bent down and pulled a pair of women’s slippers out of the shoe cabinet for Zhu Wenshu.

“Thank you, Yuanyuan.”

Zhu Wenshu glanced around the room, seeing no sign of Ling Chen, though she could hear the faint sound of running water.

Once she’d changed into the slippers, she followed Ling Siyuan inside.

Even though he wasn’t fond of being supervised by his teacher, Ling Siyuan had grown so used to watching his father entertain guests thoughtfully that, out of habit, he set down his bag and said, “Teacher, I’ll go pour you some water.”

Zhu Wenshu had planned to just return the jacket and head home, but seeing the boy be so polite, she couldn’t very well refuse, so she went to sit on the sofa.

“All right, thank you, Yuanyuan.”

He brought over a glass of warm water, then said, “Teacher, I’ll get you some fruit too.”

She started to say there was no need, but Ling Siyuan had already run off toward the kitchen.

Following his direction, Zhu Wenshu looked up and saw Ling Chen standing in the kitchen.

A pot on the stove was letting off white steam, and the smell of chicken soup drifted through the air. Nearby, the oven light was on, though she couldn’t tell what was inside.

Zhu Wenshu really hadn’t expected to walk in on a scene like this.

Ling Chen stood by the sink, wearing a loose gray sweatshirt with the sleeves rolled up, both hands submerged in the water, washing vegetables.

Zhu Wenshu was genuinely surprised.

The water ran in a thin stream, and Ling Chen’s hands worked deftly and carefully, rinsing each stalk of vegetable with a practiced skill, like someone who cooked regularly.

Perhaps sensing Zhu Wenshu’s gaze, Ling Chen turned around and tilted his chin toward her in greeting.

“You’re here? Sit for a bit.”

Zhu Wenshu let out a dazed “Oh,” and looked away, staring at the dark television screen.

Only then did she remember—she was here to return the jacket.

“I brought the jacket.”

Ling Chen didn’t turn around. “Just leave it for now, give me a moment.”

His tone was so natural, as though Zhu Wenshu were a guest here specifically to visit, that it left her unable to bring herself to say she needed to leave right away.

Ling Siyuan carried over a bowl of washed fruit, set it neatly on the coffee table, and asked, “Teacher, do you want to watch TV?”

His big eyes were practically sparkling, and Zhu Wenshu could hardly fail to understand what he meant.

Maybe it was the comfortable warmth of the apartment, or the rich aroma from the kitchen, but Zhu Wenshu didn’t feel like rushing him to do homework, and nodded. “Sure.”

Ling Siyuan immediately turned on the TV, and the screen lit up along with loud, cheerful music.

Before long, the sound of food hitting hot oil sizzled from the kitchen.

Ling Siyuan, absorbed in his cartoon, picked up an apple from the table and was about to bite right into it.

“Hey, peel it first.”

Zhu Wenshu stopped him, glanced at the coffee table, and finding no fruit knife, asked Ling Siyuan, “Where’s the fruit knife? Let teacher peel it for you.”

Ling Siyuan had no idea either, and simply turned and yelled, “Dad!”

Ling Chen: “What?”

Ling Siyuan: “Where’s the fruit knife?”

“How would I—” Ling Chen turned around, his gaze passing through the kitchen’s glass door, and the words caught in his throat.

At the entryway.

Ling Xingyan, having apparently come in at some point without anyone noticing, stood there looking utterly baffled at the whole scene before him.

Two seconds later, his own son also belatedly realized something was wrong, turning to stare at him in shock.

The whole apartment fell into a long, dead silence, until Ling Xingyan finally found his voice—

“You,” Ling Xingyan asked, “who were you just calling ‘Dad’?”

Ling Siyuan froze, saying nothing.

Ling Xingyan turned to look at Ling Chen instead.

“And you—who exactly were you just answering to?”