The neon lights along the road suddenly went dark.

The shop owner had turned off the lights inside and come out to collect the shared power bank stand from the doorway.

Without the vibrant lights, the street suddenly seemed desolate, even passersby quickening their pace, hurrying home.

Cold wind gusted in through the window. After a while, Ling Chen finally noticed someone knocking on his car window.

He turned his head and saw a little girl in a fuzzy hat leaning close to his window, a basket slung across her body.

“Mister, want to buy some flowers?”

Ling Chen glanced at her basket, then let his gaze settle on her face, noting her cheeks flushed red from the cold.

“Still not home this late?”

“My home’s right upstairs.”

She started acting coquettish. “Buy some, mister, I’m earning pocket money, just buy a little, give them to your girlfriend.”

“These aren’t even roses.”

Ling Chen glanced down at her flowers. “How am I supposed to give these to a girlfriend?”

The little girl held the flowers up toward Ling Chen. “The roses are sold out! Chinese roses look just as pretty as regular roses!”

Ling Chen stared at her flowers for a long while.

So long that the little girl thought he wasn’t going to buy any and was about to leave, when she heard him let out a soft sigh.

“Fine, I’ll take them.”

He said quietly, then took out his phone to pay. “Give me all of them.”

A large bouquet of vivid Chinese roses was placed on the passenger seat.

Honestly, without looking closely, they really weren’t so different from actual roses.

Everyone wants to be the rose. But not everyone gets to be, no matter how much they wish for it.

Being the second choice—that’s not so bad either.

At least it’s still a choice.

Only—

Had Zhu Wenshu chosen the rose?

Back home, Zhu Wenshu lay on her bed for a while.

She hadn’t actually done anything, and yet she felt exhausted, as if her whole body had come apart.

Not until the wall clock struck ten-twenty did she realize she was freezing and get up to shower.

Just as she reached the bathroom door, her phone buzzed twice on the desk.

The new message pulled Zhu Wenshu’s attention back.

【Shi Xue’er】: Teacher Zhu, are you asleep yet?

【Shi Xue’er】: Help me like my Moments post ^^

【Zhu Wenshu】: Sure.

【Shi Xue’er】: Thanks~ Let me know when you’re free, I’ll treat you to a meal!

Zhu Wenshu agreed, but didn’t click into Shi Xue’er’s Moments post right away.

She stared at the chat box for a long while, then typed another line.

【Zhu Wenshu】: Xue’er, I have a friend who’s run into a problem recently, wanted to ask you about it.

【Shi Xue’er】: Hm?

“If your boyfriend”

She thought it over, then deleted those three words and rewrote it.

【Zhu Wenshu】: If a guy is pursuing you, but he has a moonlight, would that bother you?

【Shi Xue’er】: Ugh, you’d need more than one hand to count Zhu Qisen’s moonlights. Did I say something?

【Shi Xue’er】: Just don’t let it get to you, Teacher Zhu. As long as he likes you now, there’s no point splitting hairs over the past.

【Zhu Wenshu】: Oh…

【Shi Xue’er】: But the catch is, the moonlight has to still be alive.

【Shi Xue’er】: If she’s already passed away, then I’d totally lose it.

【Zhu Wenshu】: Why?

【Shi Xue’er】: Because a dead person really does become a lifelong moonlight! So hard to forget!

【Zhu Wenshu】: …Oh.

So she couldn’t exactly ask Ling Chen, “Is your moonlight still alive?”

That would be way too rude.

Speak of the devil.

Just as she exited the chat with Shi Xue’er, Zhu Wenshu received a message from Ling Chen.

【c】: Are you two back together?

Seeing this line, Zhu Wenshu’s brow twitched. It took her a moment to understand what he meant.

Her mind felt like it wasn’t working properly tonight; it took a good while before she realized he was asking about her and Yin Yueze.

She’d thought he wouldn’t ask.

So he does care after all.

Zhu Wenshu rubbed the bridge of her nose and typed two words.

【Zhu Wenshu】: No.

The moment those two words were sent, before Zhu Wenshu could figure out what to say next, two more messages came in quickly.

【c】: Mm.

【c】: What building and floor is your unit.

The exchange came too fast, giving her no time to react. She almost instinctively walked toward the window, only remembering, once her gaze swept the quiet path outside, that this wasn’t a street-facing apartment—she couldn’t see what was happening below.

Did he mean what she thought?

She hesitated, but asked anyway.

【Zhu Wenshu】: You didn’t leave?

【c】: Mm.

She stared blankly at her phone, feelings jumbled inside her.

She’d assumed that a man like Ling Chen, adored by so many, would have left after that call ended.

She hadn’t expected he hadn’t left—that he was still downstairs.

A few minutes passed with no reply from Zhu Wenshu, and Ling Chen didn’t rush her either.

Until her window rattled softly from the wind, and only then did she lower her head and type out a line.

【Zhu Wenshu】: Building 4, Unit 1203

After sending it, she felt she looked a bit too eager, so she added another line.

【Zhu Wenshu】: I go to sleep exactly at ten-thirty, otherwise I’ll be late tomorrow.

Ling Chen didn’t reply.

Zhu Wenshu just sat there gripping her phone, sitting stiffly at her desk.

Two minutes later, she glanced at her bedroom door, then picked up her phone and walked out to the living room.

The light in Ying Fei’s room was still on. Zhu Wenshu hesitated, then picked up her phone again and messaged Ling Chen.

【Zhu Wenshu】: If there’s something, why don’t you just say it over the phone.

Just as she sent it, someone knocked on the front door.

She stared at the door, her heart pounding along with the knocking.

She had no idea what would happen once she opened that door.

After a long moment, Zhu Wenshu shuffled slowly to the door and opened it just a crack.

The hallway’s motion-sensor light had already gone dark; Ling Chen stood there in dark clothes, only his eyes catching a glint of light.

Zhu Wenshu stared at him for a long moment before speaking. “You—”

“Do you like Chinese roses?”

He suddenly asked.

Zhu Wenshu was momentarily speechless, unsure why he was asking this, and after staring at him for a while, said quietly, “They’re fine, I guess.”

She didn’t have a particular preference for any flower—it always depended on who was giving it.

Something you don’t like—giving you a diamond flower wouldn’t mean much either.

Something you do like—even giving you dog’s tail grass would feel romantic.

Suddenly, Ling Chen brought out the hand he’d been holding behind his back.

A large bouquet of pink Chinese roses was placed into Zhu Wenshu’s arms; her hands too small to hold it all, she instinctively hugged it against her chest to keep it from scattering.

“You…”

She looked at the roses in her arms, then at Ling Chen. “You came all the way up here just to give me flowers?”

Ling Chen gave a “Mm.”

Sensing the cold air still clinging to his clothes, Zhu Wenshu looked away and muttered quietly, “I’m way too easy to please, huh.”

“What did you say?”

“I said,”

Zhu Wenshu, not wanting to admit how easily she’d softened, said gruffly, “I’m going to sleep.”

Ling Chen glanced down at his watch.

“Still two minutes left, I—”

Just then, the lock on Ying Fei’s bedroom door clicked.

Zhu Wenshu’s heart lurched; she reached out and shut the door in one motion, hearing a muffled grunt as she turned around and pressed her back firmly against it.

“What are you doing?”

Ying Fei, hearing the noise, walked over and glanced at Zhu Wenshu standing by the door, arms full of flowers, and immediately backed off two steps, forcing back the urge to pee.

“Carry on, I’ll go back.”

Once Ying Fei had shut her door again, Zhu Wenshu slowly turned around.

Opening the door, she tilted her head to look out and saw Ling Chen half-bent over, hand covering his nose.

Seeing her reappear, Ling Chen looked up at her, and after a moment said in a muffled voice, “What was that for?”

Zhu Wenshu realized she must have bumped his nose when she slammed the door shut, and unconsciously reached to touch her own nose too.

“Sorry, my roommate came out, I was afraid she’d see…”

“I’m not afraid.”

By the time he finished speaking, Zhu Wenshu had realized he’d come all the way up here with the flowers, without even wearing a mask.

He really wasn’t afraid of being seen.

After a silence, not knowing what to say, she could only mechanically repeat herself.

“I’m going to sleep.”

“Wait.”

Ling Chen glanced at the flowers in her arms, then said quietly, “I’ll be busy with the concert for the next two weeks.”

After a long pause, Zhu Wenshu said, “Oh.”

“Good luck, then.”

Looking up again, she found Ling Chen staring at her.

“Will you come?”

His voice sank low, echoing in the darkness of the hallway.

Maybe it was the cold, but Zhu Wenshu detected a note of pleading in his tone.

Something in her chest, unwillingly, gave way a little.

Zhu Wenshu moved her lips several times, but still turned her head away, not looking at him.

“That day…”

“That day’s a Saturday.”

Ling Chen said, almost anticipating that she’d say she was busy. “You don’t have class.”

“Oh… Saturday… Saturday?”

Zhu Wenshu suddenly asked, “Isn’t it Sunday?”

Ling Chen sighed softly.

“It’s the 24th, a Saturday.”

“What?”

Zhu Wenshu blinked.

Isn’t it the Christmas concert? Why would it be on Christmas Eve?

“But that’s my birthday. If I go to the concert, how am I supposed to celebrate my birthday…”

“I’ll celebrate it with you.”

He answered quickly.

But those four words echoed in Zhu Wenshu’s ears, again and again.

I’ll celebrate it with you.

Zhu Wenshu repeated it silently to herself several times.

“Oh… I’ll see how it goes.”

Those four words seemed to hold a strange power; over the following days, that sentence kept echoing in Zhu Wenshu’s ears.

Especially as the concert drew closer, whenever she saw the promotional posters at the subway station, on mall screens, certain thoughts began quietly taking root in her mind.

Ling Chen had invited her to the concert and, in the same breath, said he’d celebrate her birthday with her.

If she didn’t overthink it, she could almost predict what would happen that day.

To say she wasn’t looking forward to it would be dishonest.

But she still wasn’t prepared, not sure whether she could accept him, knowing he had someone unforgettable, a moonlight he couldn’t have.

After all, she wasn’t Shi Xue’er—she hadn’t gone through something like this before. What if she couldn’t manage to be that composed about it?

On Christmas Eve.

Zhu Wenshu carried her bag out of her room. Ying Fei was unpacking a delivery, and seeing her come out, handed her a lipstick she’d just unwrapped.

“Happy birthday.”

“Thanks.”

Zhu Wenshu took it and sat down across from her.

“Aren’t you going home to celebrate your birthday?”

Ying Fei asked. “Not heading out yet?”

Zhu Wenshu said quietly, “Let me think about it.”

Ying Fei: “Think about what?”

“I have a… today…”

Zhu Wenshu considered her wording, then said, “A date.”

Ying Fei laughed at that.

“What, you can’t decide between going on a date or going home for your birthday?”

Zhu Wenshu gave a defeated “Mm.”

“Perfect timing.”

Ying Fei pulled a commemorative coin out of the delivery package. “Just bought this, why don’t you give it a try.”

Zhu Wenshu thought this method was rather childish—she hadn’t used one since she was ten.

But after a moment’s thought, she still took it.

Ying Fei said, “Heads, you go. Tails, you go home.”

“Okay.”

Zhu Wenshu gripped the coin, took a deep breath, then tossed it up into the air.

It landed on the table, and she stared at it intently.

Tails.

Ying Fei sighed beside her.

Suddenly, Zhu Wenshu said, “Let me flip it again.”

Before she could reach for it, Ying Fei snatched her coin back first.

She gathered up a pile of things, ready to head back to her room, and said with a smile as she stood up, “Forget it, the moment you were about to flip a second time, you already knew the answer, why keep torturing my coin over it?”

Once Ying Fei had shut her door, Zhu Wenshu still sat at the table, unmoving.

Her phone buzzed repeatedly in her bag; a little irritated, she pulled it out to check and found it was the high school class group chat.

She wasn’t in the mood to see what her classmates were discussing, so she switched out of WeChat and opened Weibo to scroll instead.

Ling Chen’s concert this year had a partnership with a video platform and would be livestreamed in full.

The platform had put in considerable effort promoting the event, so even Zhu Wenshu, someone who didn’t follow celebrities, could see plenty of marketing accounts hyping it up on Weibo.

The “Classmate Little Silkworm” topic, which had already died down, was flooding her Weibo homepage again because of tonight’s concert.

Should’ve known better than to look.

Zhu Wenshu closed Weibo again.

Opening WeChat again, she found a message from a younger neighbor back home.

【Zhou Sisi】: Sis, want to ask you something.

【Zhu Wenshu】: Hm?

【Zhou Sisi】: Auntie said you and Ling Chen were high school classmates, do you know who his moonlight is?

Zhu Wenshu: “…”

Somehow it felt like the whole world was bringing up this man today.

【Zhu Wenshu】: Don’t know.

【Zhou Sisi】: What? Weren’t you in the same class?

【Zhou Sisi】: Then you must know which girl he liked before, or which girl he was close to, right?

【Zhu Wenshu】: No idea.

Zhu Wenshu thought about it, and honestly, she had no memory of anything like that either.

【Zhu Wenshu】: Maybe she wasn’t from our school.

【Zhou Sisi】: I guess… I’m dying of curiosity, didn’t expect even you wouldn’t know.

Zhu Wenshu: “…”

She put down her phone and slumped forward onto the table.

Well then.

Looks like she still couldn’t let it go.

Not only could she not let it go—the thought that Ling Chen would be singing that song written for his moonlight in front of everyone tonight made her heart ache.

Maybe she shouldn’t go after all.

Zhu Wenshu sighed heavily, stood up and walked toward the door, pulling out her phone at the same time, intending to come clean to Ling Chen.

Opening WeChat, she found that in just the past few minutes, the high school class group chat, sitting at the very top, already had over 99 new messages.

The last time it had been this lively was when Ling Chen first debuted.

There were too many messages, and Zhu Wenshu skimmed through carelessly, not immediately understanding what they were talking about.

As she scrolled diligently through the chat history, an incoming call suddenly popped up.

“What’s up?”

Zhu Wenshu answered.

“Have you seen the group chat?”

Zhong Ya said.

“Looking at it right now.”

Zhu Wenshu asked, “What happened, I see them talking about account hacking or something.”

“Hilarious, Ling Chen got his account hacked, did you know?”

Zhong Ya’s laughter nearly burst through Zhu Wenshu’s eardrum. “Whoever hacked him probably never imagined they’d end up hacking Ling Chen, of all people, hahaha.”

Once again, Ling Chen.

Zhu Wenshu gave a muffled “Oh.”

“Oh my god, I can’t— Wang Junguan said if it weren’t for the hacker, he’d never have known Ling Chen’s nickname for him was Wang Guanjun, hahahaha, this man never even learned his name right, hilarious.”

Even through the phone, Zhu Wenshu could tell Zhong Ya was practically crying from laughing so hard.

After a good while, once Zhong Ya had finished laughing, she said, “Hey, I just downloaded QQ, let me go check what he saved me as—”

Zhong Ya’s voice cut off abruptly.

Two seconds later.

“Damn it, mine’s ‘Sixth Person, Row Five.'”

Zhu Wenshu: “…”

Despite her rotten mood, Zhu Wenshu still couldn’t help but laugh.

“What are you laughing at.”

Zhong Ya said. “Go check yours.”

“Oh…”

Zhu Wenshu opened QQ and, sure enough, saw the account-hacking message Ling Chen had sent.

Only, she didn’t immediately click into her own nickname.

Even though she knew it was a bit paranoid to think this way, Zhu Wenshu still couldn’t help but wonder.

If teenage Ling Chen hadn’t even remembered her name, yet was writing songs for his moonlight…

“Did you see it?”

Zhong Ya urged. “What’s your nickname? Tell me quick!”

Forget it, might as well just look.

Zhu Wenshu reached out and tapped the message.

【c】: Little Silkworm just found a legit part-time job! Easy 5OO a day! Add my WeChat now: JzB1551

Standing at the elevator, Zhu Wenshu’s gaze froze the moment she saw “Little Silkworm” and didn’t move again.

The air seemed to stop flowing, the sounds around her fading in and out.