Jiang Yubai sat beside Lin Zhixia, looking at the email she had received today.

As Jiang Yubai scrolled down with the mouse wheel, Lin Zhixia began eating strawberries.

She had only eaten two strawberries when Jiang Yubai said, “Their professor is one of the authors of the HHL algorithm paper…”

“Yes, it’s him,” Lin Zhixia nodded, “I’m somewhat interested in joining their group.”

Jiang Yubai’s fingertip lightly tapped the desk: “Isn’t your current group good enough?”

Lin Zhixia described honestly: “Our group is excellent, highly interdisciplinary, and I’ve learned many new things. I especially enjoy our weekly meetings on Mondays and Wednesdays, as well as the report sessions and exchange meetings. The research topics my advisor chose for me are quite good, with plenty of room for creative freedom. As long as I produce results, I can generally publish papers in journals or at conferences. However, publishing papers isn’t my only goal; I want to work on practical applications. When I was an undergraduate, senior Tan Qianche did quite well with that.”

Jiang Yubai looked into her eyes, and she continued: “Look at their recruitment notice, the postdoctoral work seems quite innovative.”

As she spoke, she held her fork and speared a fresh strawberry.

Her lips were a moist, vibrant red, more tender and delicious than the fruit flesh.

Jiang Yubai discreetly shifted his gaze.

Looking straight ahead, he sat steady and upright, reasonably suggesting: “If you’ve made up your mind, apply early. This email was sent to doctoral students in relevant fields at universities worldwide. There’s only one position, the competition will be fierce, first come, first served.”

Lin Zhixia sighed lightly: “But you’ll be graduating from university next year. If I go to America, won’t we be separated again?”

Jiang Yubai spoke in an extremely low voice, murmuring: “I’m used to it.”

Lin Zhixia didn’t hear clearly: “Were you talking to me?”

Jiang Yubai was profoundly secretive: “Nothing.”

Lin Zhixia said vaguely: “Jiang Yubai…” She deliberately mumbled a sentence as if her mouth were full of rice cake.

Sure enough, Jiang Yubai made a request: “Say that again.”

Lin Zhixia responded in kind: “I won’t tell you.”

Jiang Yubai compromised: “In our second year of junior high, when you went to the high school section for training…”

Lin Zhixia stared at him. He continued: “Since then, I’ve grown accustomed to being temporarily apart from you. You moving forward is a good thing, and I’ll always support you.”

Lin Zhixia suddenly recalled what Jiang Yubai had told her when they were in junior high. He had said that Lin Zhixia and Jiang Yubai had never really been apart; they were just executing different tasks at certain stages.

Lin Zhixia clearly remembered that year’s playground, the red rubber track, the white clouds floating in the blue sky, the classmates from Class 17 of second grade, and her deskmate, Jiang Yubai. That was six years ago. Moisture inexplicably welled up in her eyes, and misty tears blurred her vision. Jiang Yubai pulled out a tissue and handed it to her. He asked very gently: “What are you thinking about?”

Lin Zhixia murmured: “I’m thinking about twelve-year-old you and me.”

She said softly, “You probably don’t remember anymore. I wish I could share my memories with you.”

But Jiang Yubai said, “I remember very clearly.”

“Really?” Lin Zhixia asked him.

He said with great seriousness: “Really.”

Lin Zhixia believed him. She completed the sentence she had deliberately obscured earlier: “Jiang Yubai, I dreamed about you last night.”

Jiang Yubai’s heart skipped a beat.

Lin Zhixia rested her chin on her hand: “I dreamed that we went to high school together. You were riding a bicycle with me sitting behind you, hugging your waist tightly. We almost got caught by our homeroom teacher because romantic relationships weren’t allowed at Provincial No. 1 High School.”

Jiang Yubai couldn’t help but laugh gently: “Since when did I start dating you?”

“You confessed to me right after the start of junior year,” Lin Zhixia hinted.

Jiang Yubai pushed his chair, moving further away from her: “You were only fifteen then.”

Lin Zhixia quickly added, “In the dream, I hadn’t skipped any grades.”

“Why hadn’t you skipped grades?”

“I wasn’t very smart in the dream.”

—Lin Zhixia had made a tremendous concession.

Jiang Yubai finally told her that he had discovered his feelings for her when he was fifteen. By openly revealing this secret, he indeed won Lin Zhixia’s delight.

Lin Zhixia immediately realized: “So, you had a secret crush on me for several years? You kept it hidden from me for so long. You’re so patient.”

Not just the “secret crush” matter!

At the mention of “patience,” Jiang Yubai felt deeply moved.

Lin Zhixia observed the changes in his expression, grabbed his wrist, and pursued further: “Have you ever stayed up late thinking about me? Have you ever seen me in your dreams?”

She recited a famous verse from the Book of Songs without any shame: “Waking or sleeping, I think of you, long and anxiously turning from side to side.”

After some time of exploration and investigation, Jiang Yubai discovered a pattern—if he acted sufficiently reserved and restrained, Lin Zhixia would shed all psychological burdens and approach him proactively, even sharing a bed with him at night.

Therefore, he said with particular seriousness: “I don’t quite remember.”

Lin Zhixia indeed fell into his trap. She sat on his lap and expressed her feelings: “If you appear in my dreams, it must be a beautiful dream. The next morning, my mood would be very good.”

Jiang Yubai wrapped his arms around her body and lifted her entirely, her feet suddenly suspended in midair, leaving her too surprised to say a word. To make matters worse, Jiang Yubai placed her on the bed.

Lin Zhixia pulled him down with her, then flipped over to straddle his waist.

Jiang Yubai’s waistline was lean and smooth. Lin Zhixia explored it with her hands for a short while. Just as Jiang Yubai was about to reach for her, Lin Zhixia stopped him: “Don’t move.”

He curled his lips slightly: “I won’t move.”

Lin Zhixia nodded with satisfaction.

Jiang Yubai then said, “Come closer, and I’ll tell you what I’ve done to you in my dreams before.”

Lin Zhixia was enticed by him. She supported herself on the pillow with both hands, drawing closer and closer to him. He suddenly grabbed her waist and pressed her against the bed. She struggled for two seconds before completely giving up resistance. Jiang Yubai’s strength was truly too great; she was no match for him, just as Jiang Yubai’s test scores could never surpass hers, her physical strength could never overcome Jiang Yubai’s.

She questioned him: “What are you doing?”

He whispered in her ear, “Describing my dream. Didn’t you want to hear?”

“Mm-hmm,” Lin Zhixia urged, “tell me quickly.”

Jiang Yubai selected the content of his two most recent dreams to tell her. Lin Zhixia blushed to the tips of her ears: “You…”

Her chest rose and fell unevenly. Jiang Yubai kissed her earlobe: “Want to hear more?”

Lin Zhixia thought briefly, then surprisingly said: “Mm.”

Jiang Yubai asked: “What does ‘mm’ mean?”

Lin Zhixia felt that Jiang Yubai had not always been like this. When he was younger, he had been more easily embarrassed than she. To hide his reddened ears, he would deliberately wear hooded clothes so he could pull the hood over his head. She intentionally avoided his question, pretending to be serious: “I’m not playing with you anymore. I need to write my postdoctoral application.”

Jiang Yubai believed her. He let her go.

Lin Zhixia placed her hands on Jiang Yubai’s shoulders, attempting to push him down, which was certainly impossible to succeed. They began to play on the bed, like an upgraded version of “cat and mouse,” with laughter and joy filling the bedroom almost continuously.

*

Lin Zhixia quickly adapted to her new room.

She lived very comfortably.

She always remembered her responsibilities as a “home tutor.”

Every night, Lin Zhixia would study with Jiang Yubai. They shared a desk, with their chairs very close together, just like college sweethearts in the university library.

Lin Zhixia often reviewed Jiang Yubai’s after-class notes and helped him organize materials, supplementing many aspects of mathematics and statistics. She diligently played the role of “home tutor.”

Jiang Yubai opened his notebook, and three years of junior high school memories instantly flooded his mind.

Back then, Lin Zhixia had tutored him in the same way.

Lin Zhixia seemed to share a telepathic connection with him. She said, “Before we knew it, we’ve all grown up.”

Jiang Yubai didn’t reply. He held Lin Zhixia’s right hand.

But Lin Zhixia pulled her hand back: “I’m meeting my advisor tomorrow. Let me finish this plan first.”

Lin Zhixia had her eye on the MIT research group. She knew that their professors were industry founders, their experimental equipment and academic achievements were world-class, and their research topics were novel and incredible. Lin Zhixia wanted to experience their academic atmosphere firsthand.

So far, Lin Zhixia’s advisors had all been very helpful to her.

Her doctoral advisor was quite approachable. Early the next morning, Lin Zhixia found him in his office, discussed her desire to pursue a postdoctoral position at MIT, and handed her plan to her advisor.

The advisor glanced at Lin Zhixia’s document and told her that with her current level, she could indeed pursue a postdoctoral position. The only issue was that she hadn’t graduated yet. She should first prepare her doctoral graduation materials and obtain her doctoral degree before transferring to work in the United States.

There were countless doctoral graduates from renowned universities worldwide, all potentially competing with Lin Zhixia.

Lin Zhixia tentatively asked her advisor if she could graduate next year.

The advisor said he would actively advocate for her, but the specifics would need to be discussed with the university, as such precedents were rare. Even though Lin Zhixia had published several top-tier journal articles, participated in some top conferences, and received invitations from German and Swiss universities, some university rules were not easily broken.

Lin Zhixia expressed understanding.

She couldn’t be certain of her graduation time. But she still submitted her postdoctoral application materials.

Lin Zhixia believed there were people smarter than her in the world, people better at utilizing resources, and people who, after years of accumulation, would surpass her in depth and breadth of knowledge. Could she get that postdoctoral position with the major group? She harbored a slight anxiety and doubt in her heart.

She temporarily set this question aside.

*

Many hands make light work. By mid-August, the “New Quantum Computing Platform” had taken its simplest form. The platform was connected to Senior Wei Ruoxing’s laboratory for testing. It was then that Duan Qiyan suddenly realized: “This thing doesn’t have a name yet. Let’s give it one!”

So far, Duan Qiyan had been doing miscellaneous tasks in the group. He had also brought Tang Tingting in. He originally thought Tang Tingting’s level wasn’t as strong as his, and after joining the group, she would only admire him. Unexpectedly, Tang Tingting only took a few days to understand Wei Ruoxing’s circuit design.

Tang Tingting quickly became familiar with Feng Yuan, Luo Ying, and Wei Ruoxing, often referring to them as sisters in the group. The atmosphere was much more harmonious and joyful than Duan Qiyan had anticipated.

Tang Tingting’s attitude toward Lin Zhixia was the most enthusiastic.

So far, the person with the heaviest workload in the entire group was undoubtedly Lin Zhixia.

However, Lin Zhixia never felt tired. She always seemed delighted to work.

Duan Qiyan privately messaged Lin Zhixia to ask if she was tired, and she modestly responded: “I didn’t do much today.”

Didn’t do much?

As is well known, in a GitHub user’s daily activity, the more green squares, the more diligent the person is.

And on Lin Zhixia’s GitHub page, that large patch of dense squares was filled with deep green.

And she called this not doing much?

Duan Qiyan suggested: “Let’s just call our platform ‘Did Nothing Today.'”

Lin Zhixia asked in confusion: “Why this name?”

Duan Qiyan said, “Using your words just now.”

Lin Zhixia frowned slightly. Then, she encouraged him: “Go ask the group what they think.”

Duan Qiyan hesitated: “No one will agree, right?”

“Not necessarily,” Lin Zhixia displayed the qualities of a leader and showed trust, “someone might support you.”

That’s true.

Duan Qiyan thought.

If he couldn’t put himself out there, he might miss out on everyone’s support.

“Did Nothing Today” as a name, at first hearing, seemed abrupt and casual, but also down-to-earth. Duan Qiyan thought they should first lower customers’ expectations for the product, then let them experience its power—a clever yet humorous marketing strategy.

So, Duan Qiyan mentioned it in the WeChat group.

He waited for a few seconds, but no one responded.

He specifically tagged all group members.

Tang Tingting was the first to respond: “I’m begging you, big brother, think a little, what kind of name is this? We’ll be laughed at if we put it online.”

Duan Qiyan wasn’t angry. He explained his viewpoint, which provoked a long string of “hahaha” from Tang Tingting.

He couldn’t help feeling annoyed and questioned: “Why are you always against me?”

Tang Tingting retorted: “That’s hilarious, as if I’m deliberately trying to get your attention. Don’t flatter yourself.”

Duan Qiyan was led astray: “You’re deliberately trying to get my attention?”

He seemed to have hit Tang Tingting’s vulnerable spot.

Tang Tingting suddenly backed down.

She stopped replying to Duan Qiyan.

Duan Qiyan immediately sent her a private message, repeating the same question: “You’re deliberately trying to get my attention?”

Tang Tingting was silent, as if she didn’t exist in this world.

Duan Qiyan’s thumb rubbed the phone screen, and he pressed his fingerprint in the WeChat chat box.

Duan Qiyan thought carefully; he and Tang Tingting had known each other for over seven years. During junior high school rehearsals for the school anniversary celebration, he and Tang Tingting played a married couple. Classmates often teased them, continuing for several years until they graduated from high school.

Duan Qiyan felt he was quite smart.

After thinking back and forth, he sent a WeChat message: “I’ve been blind, damn, you toward me…”

Before Duan Qiyan could type the next line, Tang Tingting said: “Don’t tease me. There are plenty of handsome guys in that group. Why would I focus on just you?”

Yes.

That group was full of handsome men.

Duan Qiyan inexplicably felt irritated.

He never judged people by their appearance, nor did he pay attention to his own dress and grooming—the only exception was shortly after starting university when Tang Tingting criticized him for his pants being too short, saying it might be awkward if girls bumped into him, and told him to reflect on himself. While saying “what nonsense,” he actually went to buy knee-length three-quarter pants for men.

And now, he said again: “Can good looks be eaten? Don’t be shallow, only looking at people’s appearances.”

He gripped his phone, silently waiting for Tang Tingting’s cold-hearted humiliation.

Duan Qiyan had already anticipated that Tang Tingting would mercilessly humiliate him, and he swore he would strike back hard.

However, Tang Tingting said: “You’re quite handsome too.”

Duan Qiyan placed both hands on his desk and suddenly stood up without warning. His chair scraped against the floor, making a loud “scratch scratch” noise.

All three roommates turned to look at him inquiringly, and Shen Fuxuan asked: “Did something big happen? You’re so jumpy.”

Duan Qiyan didn’t answer Shen Fuxuan. He ran out of the dormitory.

Shen Fuxuan was surprised.

In Shen Fuxuan’s impression, Duan Qiyan’s personality had matured; he shouldn’t suddenly revert to his junior high behavior.

Shen Fuxuan thought the group chat messages had triggered Duan Qiyan. He opened WeChat and searched through the chat history.

Many WeChat group members were enthusiastically discussing the naming plan.

Jiang Yubai suggested naming it “PTSIC,” an acronym combining the first letters of all group members’ undergraduate alma maters. This proposal received unanimous approval from everyone, who praised Jiang Yubai for his thoughtfulness and good naming—except for Lin Zeqiu.

Lin Zeqiu said, “Utterly ordinary.”

Jiang Yubai sent him a friend request, but he rejected it with the reason: “I have nothing to talk to you about. If we add each other just to delete later, better not to add at all.”

Little did Lin Zeqiu know that at this very moment, Lin Zhixia was sitting beside Jiang Yubai.

Lin Zhixia witnessed this scene and gently comforted Jiang Yubai: “My brother hasn’t had many opportunities to interact with you. He doesn’t understand you or know how wonderful you are. Don’t be upset.”

Jiang Yubai turned his face, looking in another direction: “I thought… he would accept my friend request.”

Jiang Yubai had reached out to Lin Zeqiu, but Lin Zeqiu only responded with cold words.

Jiang Yubai clearly wanted to build a good relationship with Lin Zeqiu, but he failed at the first step. He did not comment on Lin Zeqiu’s action, probably pretending to be calm and strong. Lin Zhixia immediately felt sympathetic. She declared, “It doesn’t matter. As long as I like you, nothing else matters.”

Jiang Yubai seized on the key point: “Your brother’s opposition doesn’t matter either?”

Lin Zhixia spoke in a soft, coaxing voice: “Of course, to me, you are the most important.”

In the spacious study, all sounds seemed to freeze at that moment. Bright light spilled across the desk as Lin Zhixia gently held Jiang Yubai’s fingers. She turned over his palm, opened a drawer, found an invitation card, and placed it in his palm.

This was a party invitation, specifying the date and time: August 31st at 7 p.m.

August 31st was Jiang Yubai’s birthday.

Jiang Yubai slowly closed the invitation, and Lin Zhixia believed he had guessed it.

She confessed to him: “When I was little, I told you that on your eighteenth birthday, if I were still your classmate, I would prepare a huge surprise for you.”

A faint smile appeared on Jiang Yubai’s lips: “I’m nineteen now.”

Lin Zhixia stared at his face for a long time, her heartbeat quickening. With her head slightly lowered, she murmured to herself: “Mm-hmm, last year when I first came to school, I didn’t know many people and hadn’t met your friends. This year, my social circle has expanded. I’ve invited some classmates to help celebrate your birthday.”

Strangely, Jiang Yubai’s first reaction was neither excitement nor happiness.

The venue Lin Zhixia had chosen for his party was a restaurant near the school, mid-range in price, but certainly not cheap. Jiang Yubai had never considered money an issue, but he knew Lin Zhixia had always lived quite frugally.

In Jiang Yubai’s imagination, Lin Zhixia had saved money for many years by being economical. She wouldn’t let him cover her expenses, yet she spent a large sum hosting a party for him and inviting friends… Jiang Yubai was silent for a moment. Lin Zhixia looked up and met his complex gaze.

Lin Zhixia’s long, curly eyelashes trembled slightly: “Aren’t you happy?”

Jiang Yubai knew that at this moment, he couldn’t beat around the bush; he needed to speak his mind directly to avoid misunderstanding.

So he said: “I’ve made you…”

He paused, making his wording more concise: “…spend money.”

Lin Zhixia’s eyes brightened: “Do you want to save me money? It’s okay, the restaurant owner gave me a discount, all food and drinks at 85% off. For your birthday cake, I’m planning to make it myself. The chef sister has agreed to teach me…”

Jiang Yubai’s home employed three chefs.

The “chef sister” Lin Zhixia mentioned was probably a young female chef in her thirties. She was skilled in culinary arts, had an easygoing personality, and excelled at making pastries and cold dishes.

Lin Zhixia was smart and quick to learn, with a high aptitude for everything. She had nimble thoughts and craftsmanship. With the chef sister’s help, on the afternoon of August 31st, Lin Zhixia personally created an exquisitely shaped lychee mousse cake.

Lin Zhixia was very happy.

She ran out of the kitchen to find Jiang Yubai.

Jiang Yubai was exercising in the gym. He easily gripped the pull-up bar, performing standard pull-ups.

Lin Zhixia leaned against the doorframe, secretly observing Jiang Yubai. She remembered how Jiang Yubai used to love hanging from the pull-up bar as a child. The way he hung from the bar back then… was quite silly. Now, he had grown up, and as she stared at his arms, shoulders, and chest, her thoughts and feelings were completely different from her younger years.

Jiang Yubai noticed her too.

He was in a good mood, his voice carrying a smile: “Wait a moment, let me take a shower first.”

Lin Zhixia nodded: “Okay, okay, after you shower and change, we’ll set off.”

After saying this, Lin Zhixia returned to her room and rummaged through her closet. She found her favorite dress, put on high heels, pinned up her hair, and applied light makeup. After completing these tasks, she returned to the kitchen, picked up the cake box, and waved goodbye to the chef sister.

*

At 7 p.m., Lin Zhixia and Jiang Yubai arrived at their destination.

Lin Zhixia had reserved garden seats at a restaurant. She held Jiang Yubai’s hand and led him into the lush garden—the cool evening breeze carried the fragrance of summer flowers.

The setting sun was sinking in the west, the afterglow as red as fire.

The glow illuminated the beautiful scenery as many friends gathered together. They spontaneously sang a birthday song in unison, making the atmosphere even more vibrant.

Several of Jiang Yubai’s closest classmates were all present. He went over to chat with those classmates, and this group of handsome men seemed to glow even in the dim light.

Jiang Yubai’s classmate Sun Dawei was also present today.

Sun Dawei discovered that the boys closest to Jiang Yubai were all tall, handsome, and wealthy. Actually, Sun Dawei’s family was also quite rich, but he wasn’t very tall, and his masculine self-esteem needed strengthening. When he saw a group of tall, handsome men clustering together, he never thought about going over to talk to them.

The party games were about to begin, and Li Zirui took on the role of referee.

Li Zirui was one of Jiang Yubai’s friends and an undergraduate student whom Lin Zhixia had once tutored. In Li Zirui’s eyes, Lin Zhixia’s identity was equivalent to “Teacher Lin.” And as Lin Zhixia’s boyfriend, Jiang Yubai’s status automatically rose one level above him. He didn’t much want to play games with Jiang Yubai anymore; being a referee suited him better.

Li Zirui knew everyone present—the only thing he found strange was that the doctoral senior named “Wen Qi” from Lin Zhixia’s group had actually shown up today.

Li Zirui had heard from Wu Pinyan that Wen Qi had severe social anxiety; he strongly disliked attending gatherings and was even more averse to communication or interaction. If so, why would Wen Qi appear at Jiang Yubai’s birthday party?

The sky grew darker, and the lights in the garden came on.

Those small bulbs were strung on several ropes, surrounding the pavilion and flower beds, casting flickering halos of light.

Wen Qi’s seat was right next to the flower bed. Today he had followed social etiquette and dressed himself up simply. He combed all his hair back, reminiscent of last century’s Hong Kong film style. He was also wearing an all-black suit. When he inadvertently turned his face, the contour of his jawline was impeccable, complemented by his high, straight nasal bridge, making him quite enticing.

Some girls at the party also approached him for conversation.

But he didn’t talk much.

Beneath the beautiful appearance lay a dull, boring, and taciturn soul. The girls who had shown some interest in him gradually lost it.

Wen Qi neither participated in party games nor chatted with others. Laughter and noise had nothing to do with him; his world was monotonous and silent.

Why was that?

Even Lin Zhixia found it strange.

Lin Zhixia held a glass filled with wine. Tonight was her first time tasting red wine. She took several sips, and Jiang Yubai told her to drink less, seemingly not believing she had any alcohol tolerance.

In front of Jiang Yubai, Lin Zhixia raised her glass and drank it all at once. He looked at her in surprise, and she said: “I’m good at drinking. I’m good at everything.”

“Are you drunk already?” Jiang Yubai asked her.

Lin Zhixia said softly: “No, I’m not.”

This was a lie.

She felt a bit dizzy.

She walked to the table, grabbed the wine bottle, and held it up to the light. Only then did she discover that the red wine she had just drunk had an alcohol content of 15 degrees. That wasn’t right—Lin Zhixia had ordered red wine that was all 8 degrees. Why was there a 15-degree outlier?

Lin Zhixia pondered suspiciously for a moment before Jiang Yubai interrupted her thoughts: “Can you handle 15-degree alcohol?”

The sunset had faded, the sky was dark with no moonlight visible, and colorful lights intertwined within the pavilion. The melodious music drifted farther away. Lin Zhixia put down the bottle and still insisted stubbornly: “It’s only 15 degrees, no problem.”

Before she finished speaking, Sun Dawei chimed in: “I brought a case of wine as Jiang Yubai’s birthday gift. My father owns a vineyard in France. This batch of red wine tastes excellent, though the alcohol content is a bit high. Lin Zhixia, are you dizzy? Sit down and rest, have some lemon water.”

This batch of wine was quite expensive in the market.

Each bottle was priced in the thousands of yuan.

However, Sun Dawei didn’t mention the price of the wine at all.

He thought Lin Zhixia’s family background was similar to Miao Danyi’s. The fact that Lin Zhixia could plan a birthday party for Jiang Yubai, prepare so many game activities, and make most guests enjoy themselves and eat happily—this made Sun Dawei somewhat envious.

Sun Dawei turned his head to glance at his girlfriend.

Strangely, tonight, Sun Dawei’s girlfriend Miao Danyi had barely acknowledged him. When he spoke to Miao Danyi, she would only reply with brief utterances like “mm,” “oh,” “haha,” and similar responses, seeming not very interested in conversation.

Sun Dawei turned his head to talk with another classmate. At this time, Li Zirui invited him to join another party game, and Sun Dawei gladly agreed. They started playing a card game, with the aroma of wine mixing with the smell of food wafting around them.

Miao Danyi said to Sun Dawei, “I’m going to the restroom.”

“Ah, alright,” Sun Dawei said, “this area is quite dark, be careful walking, don’t trip or bump into anything.”

Miao Danyi didn’t respond.

She walked around Sun Dawei and left through another exit. When passing by Wen Qi, she placed her hand on his shoulder. Her hand lingered on his shoulder for a few seconds. She wore a diamond bracelet, its gemstones dazzlingly bright.

Wen Qi slowly stood up and followed her away from the place.

They left silently.

Almost no one noticed them.

Except for Lin Zhixia.

Lin Zhixia was the organizer of this gathering, but she hadn’t invited Wen Qi. She knew Wen Qi didn’t like such lively celebrations. He was a stealth operator in social settings—break his safety distance, and he would become flustered.

So, why had Wen Qi appeared at Jiang Yubai’s birthday party tonight?

Lin Zhixia was puzzled.

Although she had drunk half a bottle of wine, her mind was still clear. She noticed Wen Qi and Miao Danyi leaving their seats and instinctively followed their footsteps.

Jiang Yubai grabbed her wrist: “Where are you going?”

“Just looking around,” Lin Zhixia answered.

Jiang Yubai asked her: “Looking at what?”

Lin Zhixia was vague: “I don’t know either.”

Jiang Yubai had just eaten the lychee mousse cake made by Lin Zhixia. He had to admit that Lin Zhixia’s cake-making skills were strong—as long as she wanted to learn, there was no skill she couldn’t master.

Jiang Yubai thought Lin Zhixia had prepared an additional surprise for him.

He said with interest: “I’ll go with you.”

“Mm-hmm,” Lin Zhixia gripped his hand tightly, “we need to step lightly.”

Why?

Jiang Yubai didn’t voice the question in his mind.

He was exceptionally compliant with Lin Zhixia.

Lin Zhixia remembered the direction Miao Danyi had gone. At this moment, she was filled with curiosity—no one in the world could stop her steps in pursuit of the truth. The alcohol had influenced her, making her steps unsteady.

Jiang Yubai supported her arm.

She told Jiang Yubai: “They’re over there, in the area surrounded by bushes.”

“Where?” Jiang Yubai didn’t understand her meaning.

Lin Zhixia said, “Let’s walk a bit further.” Then added: “Would this be considered disturbing them… If the truth is as I suspect, Wen Qi might suffer greatly. He always does his own thing, never disturbing others, often helping others…”

Lin Zhixia’s speech was incoherent, but Jiang Yubai pieced together from her fragments what might have happened to Wen Qi. He and Lin Zhixia passed through a dark patch of tree shade. Broken twigs fell on the lush grass and made a “crunch” sound as Lin Zhixia stepped on them.

But she didn’t disturb Wen Qi and Miao Danyi.

About five or six meters away from Lin Zhixia, Miao Danyi stood on her tiptoes and smoothed Wen Qi’s shirt collar. He immediately turned his head, and she cupped his face. In the faint moonlight, they gazed at each other for a brief few seconds before Wen Qi asked her: “Tonight, sitting next to you…”

“He’s my roommate,” Miao Danyi claimed, “I came with him since we were heading the same way.”

Wen Qi pressed his lips tightly together.

Getting him to speak was harder than climbing to heaven.

So Miao Danyi said: “The moment I see you, my heart pounds wildly. I don’t like beating around the bush, to be honest, I like smart people. The smarter you are, the more I like you.”

Wen Qi still said nothing.

Miao Danyi felt like she was facing a wall. She still spoke with gusto: “I talk to you every day, never stopping, but are there other girls who…” She hadn’t finished when Wen Qi bent down slightly.

He made a gesture of drawing closer to her.

He wasn’t a wooden person after all and could show some response.

Wen Qi and Miao Danyi had known each other for nearly a year. Miao Danyi sent him “good morning” and “good night” messages every day, asked about his meals, and occasionally visited his dormitory building to find him. Wen Qi had deleted her four times, but later added her back. He didn’t understand why she was so persistent, as if she could see through his skin into his heart.

Such friends were truly rare.

Friendship and love are generally two-way connections. Miao Danyi didn’t need to extract anything from him, and he could neither give her emotional satisfaction nor compensate her in other ways—having been abroad for so many years, even Wen Qi’s relatives weren’t as concerned about him as Miao Danyi was.

He stuttered: “You want to say…”

Miao Danyi grabbed his tie.

Her fingers slowly pulled upward, bringing Wen Qi closer to her.

The leaves rustled in the night breeze, the dim lights and shadows intertwined like mist, and her emotions grew deeper. She asked: “What do you think?”

What did he think?

Lin Zhixia was dumbfounded as she listened.

Lin Zhixia whispered, “But she already has a boyfriend. If she and her boyfriend have an open relationship, then it’s not a big deal. I once saw Tan Qianche kissing another girl at the bottom of the experimental building, and that girl’s boyfriend was right there watching. I was shocked…”

“That happened?” Jiang Yubai was also somewhat surprised.

Before his words faded, Miao Danyi kissed Wen Qi’s chin.

Lin Zhixia pulled on Jiang Yubai, intending to flee the scene. Lin Zhixia suddenly realized that she and Wen Qi were similar in some ways. When faced with interpersonal difficulties she couldn’t solve, she also wanted to escape quickly, but she stepped on another broken twig, and the sudden loud “crack” shattered the quiet ambiance of the moonlit night.

Miao Danyi glimpsed Lin Zhixia’s dress hem and quickly called out: “Lin Zhixia!”

Lin Zhixia couldn’t escape now.

What should she do?

Jiang Yubai remained calm: “It’s fine, let’s go.”

“Go back to the birthday party?” Lin Zhixia asked him.

However, Jiang Yubai led Lin Zhixia into Wen Qi and Miao Danyi’s view. He was composed and poised as if he could remain expressionless even if Mount Tai collapsed before him. Miao Danyi hadn’t expected Jiang Yubai to appear as well. Her breath suddenly froze.

Lin Zhixia was still hesitating whether to speak the truth when Jiang Yubai ambiguously reminded: “The banquet is almost over.”

Miao Danyi caught his implied meaning. She quickly said, “I’ve been planning to end it for a while.”

Lin Zhixia understood too.

Miao Danyi meant she was going to be straightforward with Sun Dawei.

But she had once told Lin Zhixia that Sun Dawei was her source of tuition and living expenses. She would only graduate from her undergraduate studies next year, and her grades weren’t outstanding, so scholarships were temporarily out of reach.

Lin Zhixia looked at Miao Danyi. Her gaze was pure, and she didn’t say a word.

Miao Danyi’s mood inexplicably sank.

The scene she had anticipated, where Lin Zhixia would “expose her on the spot,” didn’t materialize, not even a hint of it. Clearly, Lin Zhixia wanted to save face for Wen Qi and Miao Danyi, and Jiang Yubai probably thought the same.

This matter should have ended here.

Miao Danyi lifted her dress and stepped over the shadow under the tree. She took a deep breath, but before she could say a word, she heard Sun Dawei’s voice: “Miaomiao, ah, there you are! You’ve been gone for so long, I came looking for you. Are you okay? You haven’t eaten much tonight, is your appetite not good? Let’s go home and have the chef cook a couple of nice dishes.”

Sun Dawei approached from the other side of the dense bushes.

He didn’t notice Wen Qi.

He only saw that Lin Zhixia was hiding behind Jiang Yubai. He couldn’t understand why. Was he scary?

He said to Lin Zhixia: “I didn’t say that right just now. I’m not saying the party food wasn’t good. You organized it very well, and we ate very happily. Those party game ideas of yours were novel and fun. Jiang Yubai is so lucky to have you as his girlfriend, right, little Jiang?”

Before Jiang Yubai could respond, Wen Qi suddenly asked: “You and Miao Danyi…”

Wen Qi’s tone rose: “You live together?”