The post-rain night was especially gloomy, the neon lights along the street veiled in a thin haze from the moisture in the air.

By that faint, hazy light, Zhu Wenshu noticed a light flush had spread across Ling Chen’s face from the drinking earlier.

Only then did Zhu Wenshu register just what she’d meant by “I don’t mind.”

She turned her face away, letting the cold wind blow against her ears, rustling softly no matter how gently it moved.

“Okay.”

After a long moment, Ling Chen finally responded. “Got it.”

“I’m heading back then.”

Zhu Wenshu turned to leave, only to be called back.

“Hm?”

“Wait.”

Ling Chen turned and reached into the back seat, pulling something out.

When he handed it to Zhu Wenshu, she saw it was a weighty, dark blue box.

“What’s this?”

“Chocolates.”

Ling Chen said. “Picked them up at the airport, nothing special.”

“Oh…”

Zhu Wenshu didn’t look at the chocolates or at Ling Chen. “I’m heading back, rest up soon.”

“Okay.”

After turning away, Zhu Wenshu walked a few steps, then slowly turned back and noticed Ling Chen’s car door was still open.

His figure was obscured in the darkness, his expression unreadable, only his eyes catching scattered points of light in the dim glow.

Zhu Wenshu coughed lightly twice and hurried her pace.

Once inside the compound, in the elevator, she finally lowered her head to examine the box in her hands carefully.

Under the elevator light, she could make out embossed lettering on the dark blue box.

“I will think of you every step of the way.”

She curled her lips slightly.

Some celebrity, courting someone with nothing more original than chocolates — no different from a high schooler.

The elevator reached her floor; Zhu Wenshu, holding the chocolates to her chest, reached out to open the door.

Perhaps because her fingers were sweaty, the fingerprint scanner failed to recognize her a few times.

Just as she was about to type in the passcode, the door suddenly opened.

“You scared me!”

Ying Fei, seeing her outside, clutched her chest. “I heard the lock rattling and thought it was a burglar.”

“You thought it was a burglar and you opened the door anyway?”

Zhu Wenshu stepped in. “If it really had been a robber, wouldn’t you have just thrown our front door wide open for them?”

“Oh, right…”

Ying Fei glanced at the item Zhu Wenshu set down on the entryway cabinet and laughed. “Guess I better start looking for a new roommate.”

“Huh?”

Zhu Wenshu, halfway through changing her shoes, looked up. “Are you moving out?”

“No, I like living here just fine.”

Ying Fei patted her shoulder. “It’s gotten cold, remember to close your window when you sleep.”

“Okay.”

Zhu Wenshu finished putting on her slippers and reached for the chocolates. Seeing Ying Fei pouring water in the kitchen, she asked, “Hey… do you eat chocolate?”

From what she remembered, Ying Fei was quite fond of that sort of thing, and usually asked her whenever she bought snacks — so it seemed a bit stingy not to offer, now that she’d been caught holding something.

“Nah.”

Ying Fei turned back and smiled at her. “That brand of chocolate is too expensive, I’d feel bad.”

Huh?

That expensive?

“It’s fine, there’s too much for me to finish anyway…”

“Really, I’m good.” Ying Fei carried her water glass back to her room. “I’ve got a deadline to hit.”

Back in her own room, the first thing Zhu Wenshu did was search up this chocolate brand she’d never heard of.

Browsing the prices, it really was quite expensive.

Sigh.

If she ever needed to reciprocate a gift like this in the future, how would she even manage it.

She stared at the box for a long moment, then picked out one piece and unwrapped it. –

The next day, Zhu Wenshu was jolted awake by a series of urgent car horns.

Blinking blearily, she belatedly remembered she’d forgotten to close the window the night before.

Woken from her rare weekend sleep-in, Zhu Wenshu let out a heavy sigh and reluctantly got out of bed.

She’d originally planned to finish writing her lesson plans that morning, but by the time her lunch delivery arrived, she realized with some surprise that her focus had wandered and she’d only finished half.

She looked at her phone and, just as she reached out with an eager finger, a new message popped up.

Zhu Wenshu quickly opened it, only to find it was from Ling Xingyan.

[Ling Xingyan]: Teacher Zhu, did you recommend fried chicken for Ling Siyuan’s class food-sharing event next week?

[Zhu Wenshu]: …

[Zhu Wenshu]: I recommended salt-baked chicken.

[Ling Xingyan]: Just as I thought.

[Ling Xingyan]: This little brat. I’m going to go deal with him.

[Zhu Wenshu]: What’s Yuanyuan up to today?

[Ling Xingyan]: Practicing violin, gotta cultivate some refinement.

Zhu Wenshu’s fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment before she asked another question.

[Zhu Wenshu]: Is Ling Chen teaching him?

[Ling Xingyan]: Ling Chen doesn’t have that kind of free time — he went to the recording studio last night and hasn’t come back yet, dead busy.

Oh… I see.

Zhu Wenshu nodded to herself; it seemed being run off his feet must simply be Ling Chen’s normal way of life.

That afternoon, Zhu Wenshu, no longer distracted, seriously buckled down and finished her work.

Checking the time — half past four, with decent weather outside — she changed clothes and headed to a nearby supermarket for some daily necessities.

The distance was only seven or eight hundred meters; taking a taxi wasn’t worth it, but walking back with a heavy bag would be tiring too.

As Zhu Wenshu stood outside the supermarket debating whether to grab a shared bike, someone called out to her from behind.

Hearing that voice, her gaze paused for a moment; she composed her expression into a natural one before turning around, feigning surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“My hotel’s nearby.”

Yin Yueze said.

That reminded her — his hotel really was just across the street from here.

Which made her own presence here seem a bit suspicious.

So she gave a dry laugh and said, “Oh, I was shopping around this area, just picking up a few things.”

Yin Yueze glanced at the daily necessities in her hands and said nothing.

“Do you have time for a coffee?”

Yin Yueze asked. “We didn’t really get a chance to catch up yesterday.”

Had it been an ex who’d broken things off badly, Zhu Wenshu would have walked away without a second thought.

But with Yin Yueze, she didn’t want to keep refusing either — it might make it seem like she was still hung up on the past.

“Sure.”

Zhu Wenshu said. “Somewhere around here?”

“Yeah.”

Yin Yueze walked over and reached out to take her things.

Zhu Wenshu instinctively stepped back — she knew this area well — and turned to point at a café behind them.

“There’s a café right here.”

Yin Yueze smiled and withdrew his hand. “Let’s go.”

The two sat facing each other by the window, each holding a cup of coffee, and after a long silence, it was Yin Yueze who spoke first.

Nothing more than catching up on the past few years; Zhu Wenshu felt her own life was uneventful and rather dull, so she didn’t say much on her own, mostly answering Yin Yueze’s questions.

Over half an hour passed, and she felt like a frog being poked and made to jump each time, so she finally took the initiative and asked, “Did you come back this time to visit family, or…?”

“To settle down.” Yin Yueze said. “My work’s transferred back domestically too.”

“Oh…” Zhu Wenshu nodded. “That’s good.”

“Just don’t really have any friends here.” Yin Yueze said. “I’ve lost touch with most of the old classmates, only Xu Guangliang checks in occasionally.”

Zhu Wenshu didn’t know how to respond, so she lowered her head and took a sip of coffee before saying, “Everyone’s more or less the same.”

Yin Yueze considered for a moment. “But you and Ling Chen have stayed in touch since graduation?”

“Hm?”

Zhu Wenshu hadn’t expected Yin Yueze to bring up her and Ling Chen — as if some secret had been exposed, her tone lost its earlier ease. “No… we hadn’t seen each other in seven or eight years either, only reconnected this year.”

“So are you two together now?”

Zhu Wenshu paused, then immediately said, “No, we’re not together.”

Yin Yueze nodded.

“Then I can relax.”

Zhu Wenshu looked up at Yin Yueze, her expression making her meaning plain.

The man across from her reacted half a beat too slowly, and seeing her expression, quickly said with a smile, “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I’ve worked with a fair number of celebrities over the years.”

The server brought over the desserts and waffles; Yin Yueze pushed them toward Zhu Wenshu as he continued, “Dating a celebrity is honestly exhausting — not just the enormous public pressure, but the vulnerability to outside harm too. It’s a lot for an ordinary person to handle.”

His tone was earnest, sounding exactly like the concern of an old classmate.

So Zhu Wenshu nodded along. “Yeah, I know my own limits.”

Not wanting to continue on this topic, Zhu Wenshu asked instead, “What about you? I saw photos on your feed with a girlfriend before — is she coming back with you this time?”

“No.”

Yin Yueze shook his head. “I had a couple relationships over the past few years, but neither worked out.”

“Oh…”

The conversation continued after that, still mostly Yin Yueze asking and Zhu Wenshu answering.

As the sky darkened, she didn’t want more coffee, but didn’t want to just sit there awkwardly either, so she started eating the waffles one after another.

Worried he might suggest dinner together next, Zhu Wenshu, once he’d finished his coffee, spoke up. “I should head back now?”

“Sure.”

Yin Yueze stood. “Let me walk you.”

“No need, really—”

“I know your place is nearby.” Yin Yueze picked up her supermarket bag from beside the sofa directly. “Let’s go.”

Zhu Wenshu: “…”

Originally fairly composed, Zhu Wenshu found herself unsettled by that remark, and stayed quiet the rest of the way.

At the entrance to her compound, she finally relaxed, taking back the bag and saying, “I’ll head in then.”

“Okay.”

As Yin Yueze turned to leave, Zhu Wenshu also started toward the gate.

After just two steps, she frowned and turned to look toward the main road.

It wasn’t even seven yet, but the sky had already gone completely dark. In the deep night, she saw a black car pulling away in the distance, its taillights glowing, license plate unreadable.

Somehow, she felt that car looked familiar.

But she quickly dismissed the thought. He couldn’t possibly — he was surely still at the recording studio right now.

She must have just been seeing things.

Even as Zhu Wenshu tried to reassure herself, she still pulled out her phone and called Ling Chen.

He picked up but said nothing.

Zhu Wenshu: “Where are you?”

Silence on the other end.

She stopped walking. “Did you… come to my place just now?”

“Yes.”

“…”

She’d expected him to deny it, and hadn’t anticipated such a candid answer.

“And left again?”

Ling Chen: “Yeah.”

Zhu Wenshu: “Then turn around and come back.”

He said nothing, but he didn’t hang up either.

Zhu Wenshu heard the sound of wind rushing past on the other end of the call, and added, “Drive slowly.”

“…Okay.”

Two minutes later, the car pulled up on the opposite side of the road, made a U-turn at the intersection ahead, and finally stopped in front of Zhu Wenshu.

She glanced around, made sure no one was paying attention, then opened the door and got in.

“Why’d you come?”

Zhu Wenshu asked. “Weren’t you busy?”

Ling Chen had his mask on, his face expressionless.

“Just passing by.”

Zhu Wenshu: “…”

Had he seen something?

She fell silent for a moment, then took out her phone to check.

Sure enough — twenty-some minutes ago, Ling Chen had sent her a message asking if she was home.

Guess she owed him some kind of explanation.

But Zhu Wenshu also felt that since they weren’t a couple, explaining herself would seem strange.

“Have you eaten?”

Ling Chen suddenly asked.

Her stomach was still full of waffles, enough that if she drank a glass of water on top it might come right back up.

But Zhu Wenshu still said, “No.”

Ling Chen clicked his tongue. “He couldn’t even take you for a meal?”

Zhu Wenshu: “…”

So he really had seen.

A little put off by his sarcasm, she turned to look at him and noticed his eyes were bloodshot, and remembering Ling Xingyan had said he’d been at the recording studio all night, that flicker of annoyance dissolved at once.

“Have you eaten?”

“No.”

Ling Chen asked, “What do you want to eat?”

Zhu Wenshu: “Whatever’s fine.”

“Buckle your seatbelt.”

After he said this, seeing the large bag on Zhu Wenshu’s lap, Ling Chen reached over and took it, placing it in the back seat.

The car actually had decent space, but rather than putting Zhu Wenshu’s bag on the floor mat, Ling Chen, despite his size, had to twist his whole body around with effort to set the bag in the back seat.

As he did, his hoodie rode up, and Zhu Wenshu caught sight of a distinct scar on the left side of his waist.

It looked quite old, but the jagged scar was still somewhat startling to see.

A moment later, the scar was covered again as his clothing settled back down.

Before Zhu Wenshu could recover, she heard the person beside her say.

“I don’t come cheap.”

Zhu Wenshu: “…Hm?”

Ling Chen: “There’s a fee for looking at my abs.”

Zhu Wenshu: “…”

Who was even looking at his abs.

The car started, merging smoothly into traffic.

Zhu Wenshu was quiet for a while before finally giving in and asking, “Where’d you get that scar on your waist?”

Ling Chen kept his hand on the wheel, blinking calmly, gazing out at the deep black night beyond the windshield.

It had probably been a night much like this one — the time Liu Haoyi had come after him again.

In a run-down alley near his home, five people had surrounded him. At first it was just fists and clubs, the only sounds around them the ugly, unbearable curses. Occasionally a passerby would go by, assuming it was just some hooligans fighting, and give it a wide berth without stepping in.

Later he’d fallen against a broken piece of glass someone had left by the roadside — he hadn’t felt much pain at first, but the smell of blood soon filled the air.

Finally, Liu Haoyi had planted a foot on his face, sneering down at him.

“So this is what’s finally gotten through to me — you were avenging the goddess, weren’t you?”

“What, you want to sleep with the goddess too?”

Liu Haoyi exhaled a puff of smoke, and the figure on the ground suddenly surged up again.

Liu Haoyi struck him with the club once more, pinning his neck down, then slapped his face again. “You think you deserve her?”

Someone behind him suddenly tugged at Liu Haoyi’s sleeve. “Look.”

Liu Haoyi glanced down and saw blood pouring steadily from the left side of his waist.

The person suddenly panicked and let go, but Ling Chen couldn’t stand up.

Meeting the boy’s blood-red eyes on the ground, Liu Haoyi, straining to keep his composure, said, “Let’s go!” –

With his mask on, no one could see Ling Chen’s tightly pressed lips.

The car stopped at a red light; Ling Chen reached over and touched the scar lightly, saying casually, “Appendectomy.”

“Oh.”

Zhu Wenshu nodded, muttering, “What hospital did that, leaving a scar that long.”

A few seconds later.

Zhu Wenshu suddenly turned to look at Ling Chen. “Isn’t the appendix on the right side? Your scar’s on the left!”

Ling Chen, one hand on the wheel, turned to look at Zhu Wenshu unhurriedly, arching an eyebrow.

“Guess why I had it removed.”

Zhu Wenshu: “?”

Ling Chen: “Because it grew on the left.”

Zhu Wenshu: “…”