Even someone as slow on the uptake as Zhong Ya finally caught on—the “friend” Zhu Wenshu had mentioned was Ling Chen.

But she couldn’t understand it. They’d all spent three years of high school together—back then, they barely exchanged two sentences a semester, and after graduation, no classmate had ever mentioned staying in touch with Ling Chen.

So how was it that Zhu Wenshu was now acting like an old friend, saving him a seat?

Aside from the few oblivious strangers at the table, the other old classmates also looked at Zhu Wenshu with confusion.

Seeing the meaningful looks from her classmates, Zhu Wenshu, without waiting for anyone to ask, quickly explained: “His nephew happens to be my student.”

“Oh…”

Everyone suddenly understood. Zhong Ya’s eyes widened too. “What a coincidence!”

Wait.

Something wasn’t right, though.

Zhong Ya thought about it further. A nephew—not a son. Did that really have much to do with Ling Chen?

Did he actually keep up with his nephew’s schooling and daily life?

Before she could ask further, Zhong Ya looked up to see Xu Guangliang returning with a whole procession—the bride and the groomsmen and bridesmaids in tow.

He walked up to Ling Chen with a grin. “Not sure if this is appropriate, my wife wants a photo with you, haha, if it’s not convenient—”

“Sure.”

Ling Chen stood up. “Here?”

“Right here, right here!”

Xu Guangliang tugged at his wife, who seemed to snap awake as if from a dream, her face flushing with excitement, unsure where to stand, shuffling left and right, muttering something unintelligible under her breath.

Seeing the space was rather cramped, Zhu Wenshu thought about getting up and moving aside to make room for the bride.

Just as she was about to stand, Ling Chen suddenly remembered something and turned to glance at Zhu Wenshu.

Zhu Wenshu: “Hm?”

He held out his hand toward her. “My red envelope?”

“Oh.”

Zhu Wenshu pulled her bag off the chair, dug out a red envelope matching his, and handed it to him.

Ling Chen took it casually, and when he passed it to Xu Guangliang, who stood frozen without taking it, he said, “Just a small token, congratulations on the wedding.”

“Ah? Oh, oh, you’re too kind, I’m just happy you could come.”

Xu Guangliang finally accepted the envelope, and when he handed it off to the bridesmaid responsible for collecting the gift money, he happened to glance at it—the neat, elegant characters spelling out “Ling Chen” could only have come from Zhu Wenshu’s hand.

He froze again, staring at the two of them a bit dazedly.

It wasn’t that he was overthinking it, but the scene looked exactly like him and his wife asking each other for money.

He wasn’t the only one caught off guard—everyone else at the table stared at the pair too.

Zhu Wenshu had no choice but to explain again.

“He didn’t have cash on him, so I prepared an envelope for him.”

“Oh, oh, I see.”

Xu Guangliang, too excited today, wasn’t quite thinking straight and hadn’t really grasped the logic of it at all. He was pulled away by his wife, single-mindedly hunting for the perfect pose. “Didn’t realize you two were so close before.”

“It’s alright.” Ling Chen, who’d stayed mostly quiet, shifted his chair slightly, and in doing so, lowered his eyes to look at Zhu Wenshu. “Teacher Zhu takes good care of me.”

For some reason, in the midst of this bustling banquet hall, that “Teacher Zhu” from Ling Chen’s mouth seemed to carry more than just a title—it sounded a little intimate.

And it wasn’t just her who noticed.

Everyone at the table sank back into their earlier confusion, and even the single-minded Zhong Ya turned to look at her.

Meeting their gazes, Zhu Wenshu chose to hug her bag tighter and say nothing further.

If she tried to explain even this, it would only look more like she was trying too hard to cover something up.

But heaven only knew, there was really nothing going on between her and Ling Chen—

—

After the newlyweds and Ling Chen finished taking photos, the groomsmen and bridesmaids naturally took the opportunity to get their own individual photos too.

Other restless guests in the hall immediately seized the chance and swarmed over as well. Ling Chen, giving Xu Guangliang plenty of face, obliged everyone, standing there like a wax figure, taking photo after photo.

Not until the emcee took the stage to announce the wedding ceremony was about to begin did Ling Chen start turning people away.

He sat back down, but the crowd around them still didn’t disperse, skipping their meals just to wait for the ceremony to end so they could keep taking photos.

Zhu Wenshu herself had never experienced this kind of scene before and had no way of being surrounded by so many onlookers while still appearing composed like Ling Chen.

So even facing the stage, her gaze kept drifting, unable to focus on the newlyweds.

Before long, she caught sight of a man entering from the doorway, looking around before heading toward their table.

The man was of medium height, wearing a black jacket over a white sweatshirt that couldn’t quite hide his protruding beer belly. As he walked closer, his features gradually came into focus.

Zhu Wenshu found him more and more familiar the longer she looked, a name on the tip of her tongue that she almost didn’t dare believe.

Wait—Zhang Boyi used to be so clean-cut. How had he gotten this heavy in just seven or eight years?

Zhang Boyi stopped at the table, and the moment he spotted Ling Chen, surprise flashed across his face.

“Yo, Ling Chen! Long time no see, you actually came!”

Ling Chen only nodded at him. “Long time no see.”

Not everyone was an avid fan of celebrities—Zhang Boyi, sensing Ling Chen’s response wasn’t especially warm, didn’t press further the way others had. His gaze shifted to the side, where he spotted Zhu Wenshu, and he smiled. “You’re here too? It’s been years for us as well.”

“Mm-hm.” Zhu Wenshu nodded. “Long time no see.”

Zhang Boyi then greeted the others at the table before saying he’d arrived too late for a seat and would go find one elsewhere.

Once he left, Zhong Ya’s jaw practically dropped. “Holy crap… time really is a butcher’s knife.”

Zhu Wenshu also stared at his retreating figure in disbelief, murmuring, “Am I not seeing things wrong? Was that really…”

She’d meant to ask Zhong Ya, but it was Ling Chen who answered.

“That was Zhang Boyi.”

“Huh?”

This time, what shocked Zhu Wenshu was that Ling Chen still remembered him.

To think, she herself had needed to say her own name before Ling Chen remembered who she was.

“You actually still remember him?”

“He’s the one who gave you the Swarovski piece for your birthday.”

A guy across the table suddenly spoke up. “You forgot that?”

“No, I hadn’t forgotten.”

Zhu Wenshu blinked. “How do you all know about that?”

The guy laughed. “The whole class knew.”

Then, mid-sentence, he suddenly realized who he was looking at.

“…Right?”

Ling Chen turned to look at the stage, saying flatly, “I don’t know.”

His thoughts, though, drifted far off amid the noisy surroundings.

—

Zhu Wenshu’s birthday had never been a secret in their high school class.

One morning in freshman year, during English morning reading, the teacher had opened the door and said “happy birthday” to Zhu Wenshu, who sat in the front row.

Because the date was such a distinctive one, many classmates remembered that Zhu Wenshu was born on Christmas Eve.

So the following winter, a few days before Christmas Eve, Ling Chen overheard several girls in the hallway discussing what to get Zhu Wenshu as a gift.

Back then, nobody had much money, so the gifts they could think of were mostly small trinkets or stuffed toys. As they talked, the conversation drifted to the night market near the university area, where they said a lot of female college students had been setting up stalls selling handmade crafts lately, really pretty stuff.

The night before Christmas Eve, Ling Chen showed up on that street.

Simple stalls lined the road one after another, uniform white tablecloths covered with an assortment of dazzling little trinkets.

Ling Chen walked up and down the street three times before finally stopping in front of a handmade jewelry stall.

He glanced over the display and picked up a silver chain strung with a few beads.

The stall owner, a young woman, smiled. “Looking for a bracelet, handsome? I strung these beads myself, kind of like Pandora.”

Ling Chen asked, “Pandora?”

“It’s a Danish jewelry brand, really popular right now.” The owner pointed to a nearby swan pendant. “I’ve also got one that looks just like Swarovski, want to take a look? Girls love this kind of thing these days.”

In the end, Ling Chen didn’t pick the knockoff the owner recommended, choosing instead a red string threaded with a small sun-shaped good-luck bead.

After paying the owner 25 yuan, he had only three coins left in his pocket.

Seeing his obvious financial strain, the owner smiled and said, “It’s the thought that counts, I’m sure your girlfriend will love it.”

Ling Chen stared at that good-luck bead for a long moment before muttering, “No chance of that.”

“Hey… the way you say that…”

The owner was immediately displeased, didn’t even bother handing him a small bag, and just sat back down to play on her phone.

The night before Christmas Eve.

After school let out, Ling Chen lingered on the sports field for a long while, waiting until most people had left campus before heading back to the classroom.

Winter nightfall came early. With the lights off, the classroom sat dim and empty; a gust of wind blew in, lifting the curtains and knocking a few workbooks off a desk, which landed on the floor with a soft slap.

Ling Chen gently pushed the door open, and there, he saw Zhang Boyi, bent over near Zhu Wenshu’s desk, startled by the sound and whipping his head around.

“Ling Chen? You’re still here?”

Ling Chen glanced at the thing in his hand—tiny rhinestones catching a glimmer of the fading light.

“Came back for something.”

“Oh.”

Zhang Boyi didn’t linger, hastily shoving the item into Zhu Wenshu’s desk drawer before slipping out without another word.

At the doorway, he turned back uneasily to glance at Ling Chen once more.

“That… what just happened, don’t tell anyone, okay?”

Ling Chen didn’t even look up at him, let alone respond.

But Zhang Boyi understood in his heart—if Ling Chen couldn’t even be bothered to answer him, there was no way he’d bring it up to anyone.

Reassured, he left.

Once the classroom fell silent again, Ling Chen kept his hand in his pocket, gripping that red string, and slowly walked over to Zhu Wenshu’s seat.

Her desk was piled with things, no extra room to spare.

Ling Chen simply pulled out the chair, and the slight jolt was enough to knock loose the item Zhang Boyi had stuffed inside.

He bent down and, by the faint light of the sky, saw a deep blue packaging box printed with a swan emblem.

The last traces of sunset faded, the wind stilled, and the classroom held not a single sound.

After a long moment, Ling Chen picked up the box, wiped off the dust that had gathered on it, carefully placed it back in the drawer, and arranged it neatly.

Then, he turned and headed home.

—

A little over half an hour later, the waitstaff began serving fruit.

Because the groom had mentioned over the microphone that everyone shouldn’t go overboard bothering other guests, Zhu Wenshu’s table managed to eat in relative peace.

After a few rounds of drinks, Zhu Wenshu noticed some of the elderly guests starting to leave, and remembering Xu Guangliang had mentioned afternoon plans for mahjong and tea, she wasn’t familiar with those, so she discussed with Zhong Ya about heading out early. Staying longer didn’t seem like it’d be much fun anyway.

Once the two of them agreed, Zhu Wenshu picked up her bag and stood, meaning to let Ling Chen know.

But turning to look, she found Ling Chen had been called away by Xu Guangliang for photos—all the male classmates from high school were gathered there, chattering away noisily, and it looked like Ling Chen wouldn’t be freed anytime soon.

So, amid the lively banquet hall, Zhu Wenshu and Zhong Ya each sent Xu Guangliang a message and quietly slipped out without a word.

Leaving the banquet hall, the air outside felt fresh and clean.

“Gosh, hosting a wedding really takes it out of you.” Zhong Ya said. “I saw Xu Guangliang and his wife didn’t even get to eat a single bite. And Ling Chen too—I thought he’d just make an appearance and leave, didn’t expect him to stay this long, isn’t he supposed to be busy?”

“No idea…”

Zhu Wenshu muttered as she walked. “Seems pretty free lately, from what I can tell.”

Hearing this, Zhong Ya hesitated for a long moment, then stammered, “That… I wanted to ask you earlier, but with Ling Chen right there, I didn’t feel comfortable.”

Zhu Wenshu: “Hm?”

“It’s just…”

Zhong Ya glanced back once more to make sure no one was around before saying, “I keep feeling like… is there something going on between you and Ling Chen?”

Zhu Wenshu’s steps faltered. She was quiet for a long moment before saying, “What are you thinking? How could that possibly be! He’s Ling Chen, didn’t you see that whole scene earlier? Even thinking about it with your toes, it doesn’t make sense.”

“Aiyah…”

Zhong Ya had never seen Zhu Wenshu sound so flustered before, and realizing she’d been overthinking, laughed it off. “Don’t get worked up, I was just saying it offhand. It’s just that he seemed really familiar with you earlier, I thought maybe you two had arranged to come together. And then I thought, given who Ling Chen is, he wouldn’t specifically arrange to meet up with someone without some kind of special relationship.”

“I didn’t arrange anything with him… it was just a coincidence.”

The moment she finished speaking, Zhu Wenshu’s phone buzzed.

She opened it to find a new message.

[c]: Didn’t wait for me to leave together?

Beside her, Zhong Ya was still chattering away, but Zhu Wenshu suddenly stopped in her tracks.

“What’s wrong?”

Zhong Ya asked.

“Nothing.”

Zhu Wenshu turned her face away, looking at her reflection in the glass storefront, noticing her own footsteps had gone a little unsteady.

After a moment, she still typed a reply.

[Zhu Wenshu]: You never said to wait for you.

[c]: I’m saying it now.

[c]: Is it too late?

Just as she received these two messages, Zhu Wenshu and Zhong Ya had reached the hotel entrance, right as a taxi pulled up.

“Let’s share a ride,” Zhong Ya flagged down the car. “I’ll drop you off first, my place isn’t far either.”

Zhu Wenshu’s mind suddenly felt muddled—she could solve advanced math problems, yet couldn’t work out whether she should wait for Ling Chen right now.

A moment later.

“Actually, never mind…”

Zhu Wenshu’s voice came out a little small. “I just remembered I have something to take care of, you go ahead without me.”

Zhong Ya tilted her head. “Huh? You’re not coming? What do you have to do?”

“Are you getting in or not?”

The driver urged from the front seat. “Come on, in or out?”

“In!”

Zhong Ya immediately pulled the door open, and before climbing in, waved back at her. “I’ll head off then, talk later, bye!”

“Bye.”

Watching Zhong Ya’s car drive off into the distance, Zhu Wenshu’s thoughts remained a bit scattered.

Not until a gust of cold wind blew past, and she took in the empty surroundings, did she suddenly come to her senses.

Wait, why exactly was she waiting for Ling Chen?

They hadn’t even made plans to leave together—wouldn’t they each just head home separately anyway?

—

It was another twenty minutes before Ling Chen managed to extract himself, using the excuse of having something else to attend to.

Xu Guangliang, escorting him out with his whole family in tow, looked ready to see him all the way to the door.

“That’s far enough.”

Ling Chen said. “I can find my own way out.”

Xu Guangliang, of course, wouldn’t have it. “It’s no trouble, no trouble, let me walk you to the car.”

“No need.”

Ling Chen lowered his gaze to check his watch, his brow furrowing slightly.

Xu Guangliang, good at reading the room, sensed that expression probably meant something urgent had come up and didn’t push further.

“Alright then, be safe on the road. Sorry for not taking better care of you today, I owe you one.”

After saying their goodbyes, Ling Chen strode quickly toward the hotel entrance.

The surroundings here were nicely landscaped, with plenty of greenery and an unobstructed view, but scanning the area, he found no sign of Zhu Wenshu.

Had she already left?

Ling Chen let out a heavy breath, lowering his eyes to look at the unanswered message, feeling not the least bit surprised.

The sun had gradually slipped behind the clouds. Ling Chen didn’t linger any further, turning to head toward the parking lot.

Rounding the corner past the main hall, he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

Not far away, on a patch of grass beside a potted plant, Zhu Wenshu was crouched down, idly playing with a fluffy Samoyed—from a distance, she looked like a little lamb herself.

Ling Chen said nothing, didn’t move closer either, just stood there watching her back for a long while.

Afraid that any movement might shatter the scene of her waiting for him.

Not until he saw another dog run over to play with the Samoyed in front of Zhu Wenshu for a bit before the two dogs trotted off together toward the exit.

Zhu Wenshu stood up, watching the two dogs’ retreating figures with a lingering gaze, then pulled out her phone to snap a photo.

A second later, the phone in Ling Chen’s hand buzzed, sure enough.

[Zhu Wenshu]: [Image]

[Zhu Wenshu]: Even the dogs have someone to walk home with. What about me?