A sleepless night.

That night, Ling Chen and Zhu Wenshu talked more than they had in all the time they’d known each other combined.

He told her that before he was ten, he too had had a happy family, until his mother died unexpectedly.

He also told her that after his father’s mind broke down, he—a little troublemaker who only knew how to cause chaos—discovered that he was actually capable of taking care of someone else’s food and daily needs.

It was just that in those first two years, he could never tell the difference between what salt and MSG were for, and the meals he made were so bad even his father wouldn’t eat them.

The online rumors about his father being an alcoholic who abused him and demanded huge sums in alimony were fabrications. He loved his father very much, and his father loved him too.

He said all of this calmly, lightly, as if he were simply recounting someone else’s experience as a bystander.

But when he got to the year he was a freshman in college, when his father died of illness, his voice turned rough as if full of sand, every word forced painfully out of his throat.

After he finished speaking, the two of them were silent for a long time.

Zhu Wenshu looked at Ling Chen’s silhouette in the darkness, her heart clenched tight, and when she came back to herself, her eyes were already burning with heat.

But Ling Chen turned and started telling her another story—about the time he’d been a regular performer at a bar in college, and when people from a music company reached out to him, he’d treated them like scammers.

They called him several times, and eventually, annoyed, he gave them the number of the local police station, claiming it was the school’s contact information, and told them to go discuss it with “the school.”

It wasn’t until the summer after his freshman year that Zhang Yuming, who had just had surgery, had no choice but to personally fly over, then transfer to a bus and a motor-tricycle to find the place he was temporarily staying at the time. He waited outside the door from dawn until dark, and finally caught Ling Chen coming home.

Then Ling Chen, suspecting he was truly being stalked, turned around and reported it to the police.

Zhu Wenshu forcibly held back her tears.

Afterward, Ling Chen went on to talk about his years in the entertainment industry since becoming famous—which, by and large, had gone smoothly. He skipped over the times he’d been criticized, and instead recounted to Zhu Wenshu in detail how many trophies he’d won, which people he’d met that he used to only see on TV, and how in the beginning many production companies had approached him to act in dramas and films—but he’d thought about how he could mess up a single music video take so badly the director nearly lost it, and gave up on the idea himself. Among MV directors, there was a saying that circulated—and eventually reached his ears: “Ling Chen who sings makes you want to marry him. Ling Chen who acts makes you want to run.”

By this point, Zhu Wenshu’s eyelids could no longer hold up, starting to fight each other open and shut.

But she still laughed, the corners of her mouth curving as she drifted off to sleep.

By then a sliver of light had already begun to show at the horizon.

The whispering in the room gradually grew softer, eventually becoming a few slurred murmurs, and the breathing of the two people on the bed settled into calm.

Before Ling Chen closed his eyes, he looked at Zhu Wenshu’s sleeping face in his arms and let out a long breath.

Everyone thought he was a man of few words. In truth, he had a great deal to say.

There was still so much, so much more he wanted to tell her—

After staying at Ling Chen’s place for two days, Ling Xingyan personally came to take his son away, and Zhu Wenshu also packed her suitcase, ready to go home.

But before leaving, knowing she’d likely be back often, she left behind some clothes and toiletries.

Ying Fei hadn’t recovered from her idol’s scandal quite so quickly, and was still at her hometown, not yet back in Jiangcheng.

School would start again after the Lantern Festival, and the weather was warming up over the break as well. Zhu Wenshu quickly threw herself into preparing for the new semester.

A few days later, the landlord suddenly called her, asking whether she planned to renew the lease this year.

She had found this apartment herself back in April of the previous year and signed a one-year contract.

The moment the landlord asked, Zhu Wenshu’s instinct was to say yes, she’d renew—after all, she and Ying Fei got along well, and the two of them had long since agreed they’d keep sharing the apartment.

But the words caught in her throat. She thought of Ying Fei’s history with Ling Chen, and suddenly wasn’t sure whether Ying Fei would mind continuing to live with her.

After hanging up with the landlord, Zhu Wenshu sent Ying Fei a message.

[Zhu Wenshu]: The landlord just called me, the lease is about to come up for renewal—are we renewing?

A moment later.

[Ying Fei]: I was actually about to bring that up with you. I don’t think I’m going to renew.

Seeing this, Zhu Wenshu’s heart sank.

Sure enough. Ying Fei still couldn’t get past the fact that she was Ling Chen’s girlfriend.

She thought it over for a while, and decided it was still better to have things out with Ying Fei directly.

[Zhu Wenshu]: That’s fine, I respect your decision.

[Zhu Wenshu]: But… can we still be friends?

[Ying Fei]: ?

[Ying Fei]: ……

[Ying Fei]: What are you even thinking? I’ve spent the last few days really thinking it over, and I’ve decided I’m done chasing celebrities. The reason I chose to be a freelance illustrator in the first place was so I’d have time for fan stuff, but now this upside-down lifestyle just doesn’t feel meaningful anymore. So I’m planning to go work as a teacher at an art training school.

[Ying Fei]: If nothing goes wrong, I’ll probably be working at a studio in Xicheng District. Since it’s that far, it makes more sense for me to rent somewhere nearby.

Oh, so that was it.

Zhu Wenshu let out a breath of relief, laughing at herself for assuming the worst of someone with good intentions.

[Zhu Wenshu]: Go get ’em, then!

[Ying Fei]: emmm, actually I probably won’t even make it to April here—the round trip to Xicheng is over two hours, and I have to report in a week. I’ll probably need to start looking for a place tomorrow when I get back.

[Zhu Wenshu]: ??? That soon? You don’t even need an interview?

[Ying Fei]: ……No.

[Zhu Wenshu]: Huh?

Being in the same field of education herself, Zhu Wenshu knew a fair bit about training institutions. After the education reforms a couple of years back, art training programs in Jiangcheng had cut staff drastically—these days it was easy to get let go and hard to get hired. Where on earth could you just walk into a job with no interview at all?

Could Ying Fei have gotten scammed?

The “typing…” indicator kept flickering on and off, and Zhu Wenshu waited a long while without a reply, sensing that Ying Fei seemed to have something to say but was hesitating.

So she sent another question mark, and only then did Ying Fei reply.

[Ying Fei]: It’s the training school run by Shi Xue’er’s uncle. They’re really short-staffed right now.

Before Zhu Wenshu could respond, Ying Fei sent a few more messages in a row.

[Ying Fei]: I’m just going to help out in an emergency, no big deal.

[Ying Fei]: If it doesn’t suit me I’ll just switch somewhere else—training schools are everywhere these days anyway.

Zhu Wenshu stared at her phone for a good while before typing back with a smile.

[Zhu Wenshu]: Alright, then, we’ll be colleagues from now on, Teacher Ying.

[Ying Fei]: Ha, Teacher Ying is just doing a good deed.

[Zhu Wenshu]: Good luck~

[Ying Fei]: So what about you?

[Zhu Wenshu]: ?

[Ying Fei]: Are you staying on here, or…

[Zhu Wenshu]: ??

[Ying Fei]: Going to find your boyfriend?

Seeing that message, Zhu Wenshu’s gaze went still.

In truth, once she’d learned Ying Fei was moving out, her instinct had simply been that she’d need to find a new roommate.

Maybe it was because of Ling Chen’s rather unusual status, and because they hadn’t been together all that long—she genuinely hadn’t considered that there was another possibility.

Thinking of this, Zhu Wenshu suddenly felt a flicker of nervousness.

How long were other couples together before they started living together? Had Shi Xue’er and Zhu Qisen even moved in together yet? Would it be too fast if she brought this up with Ling Chen now?

But—

She set down her phone, biting anxiously at her finger, and yet the scales inside her had already tipped.

Ling Chen was busy enough as it was. If she also had a stranger for a roommate at home, the two of them would just end up running back and forth all the time—what a hassle that would be.

Still, she had a feeling that she and Ling Chen living together was only a matter of time.

And she knew, too, that in his heart he’d be happy about it.

It was just that bringing it up out of nowhere like this made her a little embarrassed.

Right at that moment, a call from Ling Chen put an end to Zhu Wenshu’s inner tangle.

“I just landed,” Ling Chen said as soon as he picked up. “I’ll be at your place in about an hour. Do you need to get ready?”

Zhu Wenshu said, “Yes.”

Ling Chen said, “Alright, let me know when you’re ready and I’ll wait downstairs.”

“No, I mean I need to mentally prepare myself.”

“……For what? You need to mentally prepare yourself just to have a meal with me?”

“No, it’s—my roommate is moving out, and I need a new one.”

Zhu Wenshu said, slowly, one word at a time, “So I just wanted to ask, you… would you be willing to be my new roommate?”

It took a full five seconds before Zhu Wenshu got her answer.

“I would.”

“……”

Hearing that answer, Zhu Wenshu felt like it was practically a marriage proposal.

He’d actually agreed—

A week later, Zhu Wenshu had packed up everything in her room. As she stepped out, Ying Fei was also coming out carrying a bag of odds and ends they were tossing.

The living room was already piled with a fair amount of trash—things the two of them had cleared out that day and couldn’t take with them.

They sat down on the couch, looking at the apartment, which had suddenly gone empty, only a few packed cardboard boxes left.

Even though they were both heading into new lives, there was still an inevitable pang of wistfulness in their hearts.

“Don’t stay up late anymore, okay.”

Zhu Wenshu said, “Sleep early, get up early, and don’t just live on takeout and instant noodles. Cut back on the sugary drinks too, and keep more bottled water around the house.”

“You sound just like my mom, so naggy.”

Ying Fei answered, laughing, while propping herself up with both hands on the couch, looking around the apartment they’d lived in for a year. “Actually, when we first moved in, this place was this empty too. Now it feels so strange—”

The doorbell suddenly rang, cutting Ying Fei off.

Both of them looked toward the door at the same time. Ying Fei froze for a moment, her expression suddenly turning awkward.

“I’ll go check the room again.”

Zhu Wenshu knew she was embarrassed to see Ling Chen, so she said nothing, just got up to answer the door.

“What are you two doing here?”

At those words, Ying Fei, who had just reached the bedroom door, turned back around and saw Shi Xue’er and Zhu Qisen standing in the entryway.

“We’re here to help you move~” Shi Xue’er pointed at Zhu Qisen behind her. “I brought some muscle.”

Zhu Wenshu was about to say it was too much trouble, when Ying Fei, right behind her, cut in bluntly: “You just wanted to come see Ling Chen, didn’t you.”

“……”

Seeing Shi Xue’er scratch her head in embarrassment, Zhu Wenshu asked, “How did you know?”

She hadn’t told Shi Xue’er that Ling Chen was coming today.

Ying Fei answered on Shi Xue’er’s behalf.

“She pumped me for information.”

“How is that pumping for information?”

Shi Xue’er lifted her chin. “We were just chatting, of course I care about Teacher Zhu.”

Ying Fei let out a scoffing laugh, crossing her arms as she looked at Shi Xue’er. “You’ve got plenty to say now—don’t go mute the second he actually shows up.”

Shi Xue’er said, “Me, mute? I’m about to give Ling Chen a live performance of the smoothest flattery you’ve ever heard, so he knows just how impressive his fan is. Not like some people, who can only ever say ‘ah I’m dying’ over and over.”

The two of them bantered back and forth, neither noticing that the door behind them had opened again.

Not until Zhu Qisen tugged on Shi Xue’er’s sleeve did she turn around—and instantly turn to stone.

“This is my college classmate and current coworker, Zhu Qisen.”

Zhu Wenshu said, leading Ling Chen inside while introducing him.

“Hello.”

Ling Chen nodded at him. A few seconds later, Zhu Qisen finally managed a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his head. “Hi, hi, no need to be formal, just call me Sensen.”

“……”

Zhu Wenshu then turned to look at the statue formerly known as Shi Xue’er. “This is Zhu Qisen’s girlfriend, Shi Xue’er. Also a teacher.”

Ling Chen nodded again. “Hello.”

Shi Xue’er showed zero reaction whatsoever. Zhu Qisen glanced at her, worried she was about to faint on the spot, and hurriedly pulled a piece of candy out of his bag and stuffed it into her mouth.

As for Ying Fei off to the side—

Zhu Wenshu turned her head just in time to see her sprinting into the bedroom at Olympic-sprinter speed.

And so the moving process proceeded in an unusually quiet fashion.

Ling Chen had also brought Lu Manman and a young man to help, and in no time at all they’d carried all of Zhu Wenshu’s things out. Shi Xue’er, meanwhile, stood the entire time in the living room, her mouth seemingly having atrophied, managing only a few “mm, uh, ah” sounds without ever forming a complete sentence.

Half an hour later, Zhu Wenshu and Ling Chen left.

The moment the door shut, Shi Xue’er’s wail could be heard clearly through it—

“Where’s my mouth? Where did my mouth go? Waaah, where did my mouth run off to!”

—

“What’s going on with your friends?”

In the car, Ling Chen rubbed his neck and said flatly, “None of them will say a word. Same thing happened last time too.”

“You can’t tell?”

Zhu Wenshu said, “Teacher Xue’er is your fan, she’s especially nervous around you.”

“Is that what being nervous looks like?”

Ling Chen laughed lightly. “Here I thought only someone Ling Siyuan’s age would go quiet from being nervous.”

Zhu Wenshu didn’t say anything, just looked at Ling Chen, a smile in her eyes.

“What are you looking at me for?”

Ling Chen asked.

“Nothing.”

Zhu Wenshu pressed her lips together, smiling, without finishing the thought.

“Don’t leave a sentence half-said.”

There were other people in the car, so Ling Chen just squeezed her palm. “What are you laughing about?”

“I was just thinking—”

Zhu Wenshu lifted her chin, saying quietly, “You go silent like a mute too, when you get nervous.”

If it weren’t for that, how else could they have gotten through high school having barely spoken to each other?

Ling Chen didn’t deny it either, saying calmly, “It’s not so bad. I’m just moderately nervous most of the time.”

Lu Manman, in the front seat, suddenly turned around and asked, “So what about when you’re extremely nervous?”

She then turned to look at Zhu Wenshu. “Teacher Zhu, honestly, I’m starting to suspect he treats every single person in the audience like a giant turnip. I’ve never once seen him nervous on stage.”

At that, Zhu Wenshu also looked at Ling Chen.

“So is there ever a time you’re especially nervous?”

Ling Chen lowered his eyes, and after a long moment said, “There is.”

Lu Manman said, “When? A concert? The Spring Festival Gala?”

Ling Chen tilted his head back, looking up at the ceiling of the car, and said in a flat voice a specific date.

“September tenth, last year.”

“What happened that day?”

Lu Manman had no memory of it, asking in confusion, “Weren’t you on vacation around then? No performances or anything, right?”

Zhu Wenshu, unlike Lu Manman, wasn’t clear on his schedule at the time, so naturally she had even less idea what had happened that day.

Ling Chen didn’t answer Lu Manman’s question right away either. He spaced out for a moment, then turned to look at Zhu Wenshu instead.

“Don’t remember?”

Zhu Wenshu blinked. “Does it have something to do with me?”

Ling Chen made a soft “tsk” and lazily lifted a hand, pointing at the neck pillow on the front seat.

“That day, I saw you through a doorbell camera about that big,” he said. “I thought I was dreaming.”