Deep in the night.

The rows of residential buildings hid in the darkness, only a scattered few windows still lit.

Even though Ling Siyuan’s bedroom was at the very back of the house, Ling Xingyan still opened the door as quietly as possible.

He was afraid of waking his son, but also worried that if the little rascal was still awake, he’d be caught red-handed.

Once inside, he found the whole house dead silent, the living room pitch black, and only then did he relax.

He tiptoed down the hallway, pushed open the bedroom door, and seeing Ling Siyuan sleeping soundly, sat quietly beside him for a while.

Only then did he come back out, planning to grab a bite before going to bed.

But when he returned to the living room, a cold gust of wind hit him, making him shiver.

That Auntie Xiao, really—leaving the balcony door wide open on such a cold day.

He hurried toward the balcony.

Passing the sofa, he heard a rustling sound of someone turning over.

He looked down and discovered there was actually someone lying on the sofa.

Even Ling Xingyan, in his thirties, was startled by this. After patting his chest, he belatedly realized who it was on the sofa.

He bent down and asked quietly, “Why are you sleeping here?”

The person on the sofa didn’t respond.

Ling Xingyan leaned in closer, caught a whiff of alcohol, and muttered, “Ai yo, how much did you drink…”

He knew Ling Chen’s habits well—he knew he wouldn’t even touch spicy or stimulating food normally.

In his first two years after debuting, he’d often been dragged along to all sorts of social dinners by his manager back then, but he’d never gotten drunk like this.

He had no idea whether today was because Ling Chen’s mood had been especially good, or especially bad.

Ling Xingyan didn’t bother saying more to the drunk man. He took off his coat and was about to carry him to the bedroom.

Just as he bent down and lifted Ling Chen’s arm, he heard a “clatter.”

A phone had slipped to the floor.

Ling Xingyan ignored it, thinking he’d get Ling Chen into bed first.

But just then, a woman’s voice suddenly rang out in the quiet living room.

—”Hello? Is this Mr. Ling Xingyan? Are you back?”

The eerie sound startled Ling Xingyan again. He looked around, and hearing another “hello?”, finally realized where the sound was coming from.

He bent down, picked up Ling Chen’s phone, glanced at the screen, and let out a silent laugh.

“Mm, it’s me. Teacher Zhu, you’re still up?”

“Good, you’re back.”

On the phone, Zhu Wenshu’s voice sounded a little tired. “Ling Chen suddenly went quiet just now, and I got worried something had happened.”

“No, no, nothing happened.”

Ling Xingyan glanced at the man sound asleep beside him. “He’s home. I just got back myself.”

“Alright, as long as he’s safe.”

Zhu Wenshu said, “I’ll hang up then?”

“Ah!”

Ling Xingyan let out a heavy sigh. “Really, thank you so much for the trouble. This household of mine, big and small, neither one lets me relax, and here you are worrying about it this late at night.”

“Don’t mention it.”

She said it casually, but Zhu Wenshu sighed too. “We teachers are used to it.”

After hanging up.

Ling Xingyan tilted his head to check the screen, and saw the call log showed a full thirty-seven minutes.

He looked again at the man sleeping on the sofa.

His breathing was long and even, his expression relaxed. Looking closely by the moonlight, he could even make out a faint curve at the corners of his mouth.

Ling Xingyan set the phone aside and, with some difficulty, dragged him toward the bedroom.

“Tch, all he’s good for is sweet dreams.”

The next day at noon, Ling Chen woke up to find his whole body aching, as if he’d been beaten up.

Last night’s alcohol had been good stuff, not the kind that should cause this sort of hangover reaction—he just wasn’t sure whether he’d done anything stupid.

He went to the bathroom, splashed cold water on his face, brushed his teeth, and started looking everywhere for his phone.

Ling Xingyan was eating lunch at the dining table, and seeing Ling Chen pacing around the living room in his loose sweatshirt, clicked his tongue and offered a hint.

“It’s in the drawer.”

Worried that Ling Siyuan would grab the phone and start fiddling with it when he woke up, Ling Xingyan had put it away in the coffee table drawer the night before.

Hearing this, Ling Chen just said “Oh.”

Ling Xingyan: “Come eat something first.”

Ling Chen said “okay,” but once he found his phone and discovered it had died, he simply sat down on the sofa and grabbed the charging cable nearby.

While waiting for the phone to turn on, he turned to Ling Xingyan. “What time did you get home last night?”

“Me?”

Ling Xingyan smiled as he picked up some food. “Naturally, whenever I was supposed to get home.”

Seeing his reaction, Ling Chen frowned.

Once the phone started up, he opened WeChat, and his frown deepened further.

[c]: You called me last night?

A while later.

[Teacher Zhu]: Look again.

[Teacher Zhu]: You’re the one who called me.

Ling Chen pressed his lips together, sensing something.

He glanced sideways, and sure enough, Ling Xingyan was sneaking a look at him.

“What are you looking at?”

“Nothing.”

Ling Xingyan showed no sign of guilt. “Just checking if you’ve sobered up.”

Ling Chen: “I’m perfectly sober.”

With that, he lowered his head to look at the phone again.

[c]: I had too much to drink last night.

[Teacher Zhu]: I know.

Ling Chen: “…”

[c]: I didn’t say anything crazy last night, did I?

This time Zhu Wenshu didn’t reply right away.

The display at the top changed to “the other person is typing.”

That status lasted a long time, so long that Ling Chen started to feel restless, until she finally sent three words.

[Teacher Zhu]: Nothing much.

Ling Chen: “…”

He almost wished Zhu Wenshu would send him an essay-length message, accusing him of drunkenly harassing her with phone calls.

Instead, it was these three words, so obviously trying too hard to seem casual that it left him imagining all sorts of things.

He didn’t press further, only wanting to go take a cold shower.

As Ling Chen passed the dining table, Ling Xingyan was eating heartily, though the smell was a bit much. He reached over to grab the water kettle, planning to pour himself a glass of warm water.

The moment he’d poured it, someone took the cup away.

Ling Chen drained the warm water in one gulp and said with a frown, “Don’t send over any more liquor from now on.”

Ling Xingyan laughed. “Hey, your own tolerance is bad, and you’re blaming my good liquor?”

Perhaps because of that night of drinking, Ling Chen couldn’t quite figure out what exactly he’d done, so he’d been especially well-behaved these past few days.

He worked when he should work, rested when he should rest, and hadn’t run around at all.

Ling Xingyan was glad for the peace, but also a little worried.

Surely such a small incident wouldn’t make Ling Chen stall out entirely from here on, would it?

But he also didn’t feel right asking outright what had happened that night to make him behave for so long.

This evening, Ling Chen came home even later than Ling Xingyan.

Actually, although Ling Xingyan had recently put a pause on Ling Chen’s commercial activities, he wasn’t entirely idle either.

The new album’s production wasn’t urgent yet, but this year’s Christmas concert was coming up, and Ling Chen was never one to just hand things off—he always coordinated with the concert’s chief director, nailing down every detail.

Today he’d probably been working out the stage design, because by the time Ling Chen got home, he looked thoroughly exhausted.

“Have you eaten?”

Ling Xingyan, who happened to have some rare free time watching TV in the living room, asked casually, “If not, I’ll have Auntie Xiao make you something.”

“I ate.”

Ling Chen tossed his coat aside. “I’m going to bed.”

“Oh.”

Ling Xingyan responded, reaching out to grab a handful of peanuts.

“Dad!”

Ling Siyuan had gone downstairs to play with the other kids after finishing his homework today, and coming home to find Ling Xingyan actually there, he was especially excited. “You’re back?”

“Mm, Dad just got back.”

Ling Xingyan waved him over. “Hungry? Want some peanuts?”

Ling Siyuan zipped past Ling Chen like a gust of wind, throwing himself onto the sofa and flopping over Ling Xingyan’s lap, rear end sticking up.

“I thought you weren’t coming home these past few days. My second-grade class has a parent-child sports day on Friday, are you coming?”

“Friday?”

Ling Xingyan stared at the TV, frowning, muttering, “Oh… your Teacher Zhu sent me a message about that a couple days ago.”

He was about to say more, but noticed Ling Chen, who’d said he was going to bed, was standing by the water dispenser pouring a glass of water.

Ling Xingyan spoke to his back. “Friday, huh… Dad’s really busy… ugh… so, so busy.”

Ling Siyuan said, aggrieved, “Then what do I do? Everyone else gets to have their dad there…”

The cup had just filled halfway when Ling Chen pressed the stop button and slowly walked over with it.

“But no matter how busy Dad is, he’ll definitely make time to be there for your sports day.”

Ling Chen turned and walked away.

“Really?!”

Ling Siyuan was so happy he nearly fell off the sofa. “Then can you make me a cheer sign? The sixth graders’ big brothers and sisters all have them!”

“Sure.”

Ling Xingyan said. “I’ll make you the coolest, most handsome one there.”

“Yay, yay!”

Ling Siyuan added, “Then can you make one for our Teacher Zhu too? Teacher Zhu is competing too.”

Ling Chen walked back over again with his water cup.

Ling Xingyan glanced at him from the corner of his eye and said, “Sure, we’ll make Teacher Zhu the coolest, most handsome one too.”

Ling Siyuan got excited and started chattering away at Ling Xingyan about exactly what he wanted the cheer sign to look like, insisting his name had to be on it, going on and on with all sorts of requests.

“Yes, yes, sure, all of it’s fine.”

Ten-some minutes passed, and Ling Xingyan glanced over to see Ling Chen still standing there.

He’d already drunk, what, three or four cups of water—wasn’t he worried about bloating?

“Oh dear, but Yuanyuan, if you want Dad to carry that much stuff, Dad’s only got two hands, how’s he supposed to manage? Maybe we should call in another person.”

With that, Ling Xingyan turned to look at Ling Chen.

“?”

Ling Chen froze for two seconds. “You want me to carry your bags?”

His whole face said, do you really think I’ll stoop to that, given who I am?

“Can’t you?”

Ling Xingyan pouted. “Fine, I’ll find someone else.”

“…Forget it.”

Ling Chen set down his cup. “It’s not that I can’t, I mean, I count as a parent too, technically.”

But Ling Siyuan blinked his eyes. “Is that okay? There are so, so many people at sports day, and they’ll be taking pictures with cameras.”

He did want a bigger cheering squad for himself, but that was his uncle! Someone who was normally so careful whenever he went out.

“So what if there are photos?”

Ling Xingyan said, “What’s wrong with cheering on your nephew? He’ll have kids of his own someday too—are you saying he’s never going to attend his own kid’s parent-child sports day for the rest of his life?”

Then he added, drawing out the words, “Your uncle isn’t doing anything he’s ashamed of, isn’t afraid of being seen, right?”

Ling Siyuan nodded, only half understanding.

Ling Xingyan turned to ask again, “So it’s settled then?”

“We’ll see.”

Ling Chen picked up his water cup again. “I might not have time.”

“?”

Still putting on airs?

Ling Xingyan: “Fine, forget it then.”

“…I’ll try.”

“It’s fine, you don’t have to force yourself.” Ling Xingyan said, “I can find someone else too, maybe Manman or…”

“Forget it, other people aren’t close with your son.” Ling Chen cut him off, expressionless. “I should have time.”

Friday was overcast.

For people going out for leisure, it was bad weather, but for the parents attending the sports day today, it was exactly what they’d hoped for.

No sun to bake in, no worry about heatstroke.

By two in the afternoon, the school was already bustling.

Zhu Wenshu borrowed a changing room from Zhu Qisen and the other PE teachers, and came out having changed into a tracksuit.

Seeing her come out, Zhu Qisen looked her outfit up and down with a complicated expression.

“Isn’t this tracksuit a bit too old?”

It really was old—bought back in high school.

Ever since she was little, Zhu Wenshu had always hated exercise more than anything else.

Back in her school days, whenever there was a sports meet, she was never seen on the field, and the graduation fitness test had nearly been the death of her.

And since she hadn’t grown much after high school, this outfit had only been worn a handful of times, and it felt wasteful to throw away.

For an occasion like today, it was finally coming in handy, and saved her the trouble of spending money on a new one.

It was just that Zhu Wenshu hadn’t quite figured out how, even after graduating and getting a job, she still couldn’t escape the doom that was sports day.

“As long as it’s practical.”

Zhu Wenshu tugged at her sleeve and found it was still a bit short.

“No, but this style of yours…” Zhu Qisen struggled to hold back a laugh, not wanting to say the word “tacky” out loud. “Why don’t you go grab one of our office’s new tracksuits? It’s a uniform, sure, but it looks way better than this style of yours.”

“Too much trouble.”

Zhu Wenshu straightened her clothes and walked outside. “I’ll just make do.”

The office building faced the school’s main entrance, and by now the students had already reunited with their parents, a great crowd of people streaming toward the sports field.

Zhu Wenshu wasn’t in a hurry to go downstairs, leaning against the corridor railing to check on her class’s situation.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Zhu Qisen didn’t insist either, saying beside her, “Clothes make the person, not the other way around—Teacher Zhu would look good in anything.”

Zhu Wenshu didn’t respond, but deep down she quite agreed with what Zhu Qisen had said.

And looking out over the crowd, those parents in their loud, flashy clothes didn’t look all that great either—

Huh?

Zhu Wenshu suddenly blinked.

Because it was sports day, the parents had all come in tracksuits, and glancing over, it was a riot of colors everywhere.

So in that crowd, a man dressed entirely in black—black jacket, black pants—carrying a big black bag, and wearing a black cap, black sunglasses, and a black mask, stood out remarkably.

And he looked somewhat familiar.

As the crowd moved further in, Zhu Wenshu found him more and more familiar-looking the longer she watched.

Quietly watching for a few more moments, Zhu Wenshu withdrew her gaze, thought for a moment, then suddenly said, “Zhu Qisen, where are your office’s new tracksuits? Let me borrow one.”