Jiang Yan knew both his girlfriend and his close friend well.

They were probably both just busy. So he didn’t keep calling, and switched to sending WeChat messages instead.

Both Jiang Ruoqiao and Lu Yicheng received a message from Jiang Yan — nearly identical for both of them — saying he had rebooked his ticket and come back early, expected to arrive that afternoon, and proposing they all go out for dinner and also discuss the plans for the farmhouse trip.

Jiang Ruoqiao and Lu Yicheng exchanged a quick glance, then quickly looked away.

As it happened, they genuinely had no time to go out for a meal.

The new term was only days away, and today they still needed to finalize the kindergarten, and in the evening they had an appointment with a landlord to view an apartment. Who had time for dinner? The landlord wasn’t available every day, and the window for kindergarten enrollment was closing fast. Jiang Ruoqiao weighed her words and replied to Jiang Yan: 【Something came up today. Can’t make dinner.】

If Jiang Yan were to scroll back through their chat history, he would notice that the tone of Jiang Ruoqiao’s messages had become considerably more clipped over the past several days.

She was gradually drawing a line between herself and Jiang Yan.

Her original plan had been to wait until Jiang Yan returned, and then prepare to break up.

She wasn’t the type to break up over text.

And this was Jiang Yan, after all — a man who carried his own kind of halo. The breakup would need to be handled carefully. If they could part on good terms, all the better. Even if they couldn’t part amicably, she wanted the situation to favor her.

Jiang Yan replied immediately: 【Alright, really missed you though. Don’t overwork yourself.】

Jiang Ruoqiao didn’t respond.

Lu Yicheng also replied to Jiang Yan’s message: 【Sorry, I’m really tied up today — can’t go out for dinner.】

Jiang Yan: 【……Sure, one of you is busy, fine. Both of you?】

Lu Yicheng didn’t reply either.

The restaurant server was bringing the dishes to the table. Lu Siyan’s eyes lit up, fixed on the food with full, undivided attention — completely oblivious to the undercurrents between his parents.

Both of them felt slightly uncomfortable.

Jiang Ruoqiao thought the whole situation was far too melodramatic.

But there was nothing to be done. If Jiang Yan weren’t Lu Yicheng’s close friend. If she hadn’t dreamed of the novel’s plot — she would certainly have told her boyfriend about Lu Siyan.

Whether he accepted it or rejected it, whether they stayed together or broke up — that would have been his choice to make.

When it came to relationships, she preferred to be as candid as possible.

But Jiang Yan — she genuinely didn’t want to say anything to him. The last thing she needed was to make more complications, especially since she was going to break up with him anyway.

Lu Yicheng felt the same way.

They were of one mind on this. Keeping it hidden from everyone around them indefinitely was impossible, but could they say anything right now? There was still a pile of unresolved matters to deal with — it was already overwhelming enough. Did they really need to manufacture more trouble on top of that? And besides — when they did say something, it would be to someone they fully trusted. With this complicated tangle of relationships still in place, was Jiang Yan trustworthy?

Moreover — would telling Jiang Yan bring them any benefit whatsoever?

Could Jiang Yan help raise the child with them? Could he contribute ideas? Could he donate money to two people who were already cash-strapped??

The answer was obvious: no.

He would only bring more problems. And if that was the case, there was no reason to tell him — at least not yet.

On this point, both Lu Yicheng and Jiang Ruoqiao were completely pragmatic. Unless someone could offer genuine help, there was simply nothing worth discussing.

In just a few days, the two of them had developed real rapport on the matter of the child — even their pacing and objectives had aligned, and so neither had taken the initiative to bring up coming clean to anyone.

Lu Yicheng rinsed the bowls and utensils for himself and the child.

Again, this was a team-purchased meal — two meat dishes, one vegetable, and a cold dish.

All three of them were tired, and no one spoke during the meal. They put their heads down and cleared the table completely. The set Lu Yicheng had ordered was perfectly calibrated — nothing leftover, nothing lacking, just right. After eating, the two of them still needed to discuss the kindergarten. Though they had already set their sights on the Pinwheel Kindergarten, they had come this far — they might as well visit the remaining two on the list out of thoroughness.

Jiang Ruoqiao suited up her full sun-protection armor.

Lu Yicheng had no fear of UV rays, and walked ahead alone.

Jiang Ruoqiao held the parasol and led the increasingly glassy-eyed Lu Siyan along behind.

“Lu Yicheng.” Jiang Ruoqiao suddenly called out to him.

Lu Yicheng looked back.

Jiang Ruoqiao gestured toward the drooping Lu Siyan. “He looks like he’s about to fall asleep. Should we find somewhere for him to nap?”

Lu Yicheng shook his head. “No need.”

Jiang Ruoqiao: “……”

Lu Yicheng strode back toward them, reached out, and picked Lu Siyan up. “I’ll carry him. He can sleep like this. Let’s go — we shouldn’t waste time.”

Jiang Ruoqiao: *One word: brilliant.*

Lu Siyan was five years old and on the rounder side for his age — she certainly couldn’t have lifted him herself.

Lu Yicheng was something else entirely. He carried this little chubby weight, walking under the blazing sun, and somehow made it look completely effortless.

Jiang Ruoqiao immediately jogged up beside him, raised her arm as high as it would go, and held the parasol over them both.

Lu Yicheng glanced sideways at her.

The more she spent time with him, the more Jiang Ruoqiao noticed: Lu Yicheng wasn’t quite as gentle and harmless as his reputation suggested. Without a smile, his expression could actually be rather intimidating.

Not frightening in a menacing or angry way.

Just so deeply serious and focused that you couldn’t help but hold your breath in response.

“I’m worried he’ll overheat.” Jiang Ruoqiao explained briefly.

Lu Yicheng turned his gaze back to the road ahead, but unconsciously slowed his pace to match Jiang Ruoqiao’s stride.

Lu Siyan was indeed exhausted.

Once in his father’s arms, he was asleep against Lu Yicheng’s shoulder in no time, deep and sound.

Children slept so well like this. The father was still young, but his shoulders, to a child, were broad and steady and safe.

Jiang Ruoqiao watched Lu Yicheng’s profile. She could tell he was hot too, but the arms holding Lu Siyan were rock solid — not a tremor. Her gaze drifted down to those arms. He looked lean, but gave an impression of absolute reliability. These hands — they were capable of holding up a great many things.

It was genuinely rare to see this in someone of only twenty years old.

The reason Jiang Yan had rebooked his ticket and come back early was to have a meal with his friends and with Jiang Ruoqiao.

Now that both his girlfriend and Lu Yicheng were unavailable, there was no point assembling anyone else for dinner. He was a little disappointed, but wouldn’t say anything about it. He understood that Ruoqiao had come back to Jing Shi early because of a photoshoot, and he knew Lu Yicheng was busy tutoring. Both of them were occupied, and he had no right to ask them to drop everything and come eat with him.

With no plans to go out, Jiang Yan stayed in the Lin Family’s annex building.

In the prestigious Mingmen Huafu complex, the largest villa belonged to the Lin Family.

The villa was divided into a main building and an annex building.

The main building housed Mr. and Mrs. Lin and their daughter Lin Kexing. Lin Kexing’s two older brothers were both married and rarely came back to stay, though their rooms were kept for them.

The annex building was where the Lin Family’s household staff and cook resided.

Jiang Yan’s mother had worked for the Lin Family for ten years and was on very close terms with Mrs. Lin, so in this household — at least in the annex building — she had a degree of privilege. She had her own suite, and Jiang Yan had his own room here as well. It might have seemed that Jiang Yan’s life had been upended after he turned ten, but under his mother’s arrangements, he had actually grown up far more comfortably than many middle-class children. As a mother, she had done her duty.

Lin Kexing always liked to wander over to the annex.

This time she came on the pretext of picking something up, and when she arrived and found Jiang Yan sitting listlessly in the living room, she felt a flash of delight and darted over. “You’re not going out?”

Jiang Yan had rebooked his ticket and come back early, and she had used a convenient excuse to return with him. She had assumed he’d rushed back to see Jiang Ruoqiao, but here it was, well into the afternoon, and he still hadn’t gone anywhere.

Jiang Yan twirled his keychain aimlessly. “They’re all busy,” he replied, without much energy.

Lin Kexing understood, but couldn’t stop herself from blurting out: “You two haven’t seen each other in so long — and she still doesn’t drop everything and come running the moment you’re back?”

She genuinely found it hard to understand.

By her count, Jiang Ruoqiao and Jiang Yan had gone quite a while without seeing each other. Weren’t they in the honeymoon phase of a relationship? Wouldn’t Jiang Ruoqiao be excited that he was back — wouldn’t she want to come find him immediately?

Jiang Yan smiled. “You don’t get it. Ruoqiao is a busy person — she always has been. I’m always the one fitting around her schedule.”

He loved that about her — that drive, that determination to live life on her own terms.

He had his own ambitions; she had hers. Both of them were striving, working hard at life.

It was a feeling that people who had always had everything could never really understand.

Jiang Yan thought of Lin Kexing as a younger sister — he genuinely cared about her and looked out for her — but he wouldn’t share too much of his actual “Jiang Yan life” with her. For one thing, she was young; the two-year age gap looked small but represented entirely different stages of life. When she was still in high school, he was already in university; by the time she reached her second year of university, he’d already been in the workforce for years. Their rhythms were simply never in sync, and there were too many things they couldn’t relate to each other about.

For another — Lin Kexing had everything. Whatever she wanted, her parents would provide. Her life was smooth and untroubled, free from hardship or setbacks. Talking to someone like that about ambitions and the difficulty of life felt like talking to a wall. Jiang Yan simply didn’t bother.

Lin Kexing nodded. “I see. Is her family struggling financially?”

The question caught Jiang Yan off guard.

Because he suddenly realized — he didn’t actually know much about Ruoqiao’s family situation.

They’d been together for several months. He never talked about his own family because he didn’t want to bring up his late father. And as for Ruoqiao — what was her family like? Somehow, he had never once heard her mention them.

All he knew was that she was from Xi Shi.

And that her maternal grandparents sometimes mailed her things — dried shredded radish, unremarkable crisp apples that could be found anywhere.

But what about her parents?

Lin Kexing, seeing Jiang Yan go quiet, worried she’d said something wrong and quickly apologized. “I’m always jumping to conclusions — I’m sorry. Your girlfriend is obviously just a really hardworking person. I actually really admire that kind of woman. Oh, by the way — I’ve been wanting to go out and experience life for myself, but my mom won’t let me.”

Jiang Yan smiled. “You? Forget it.”

The little princess wanting to go out and work a part-time job to “experience life”?

The image alone was jarring.

With Lin Kexing’s personality, it was no wonder her mother and Mrs. Lin fretted over her constantly. She was simply too earnest and innocent — the type who’d help the person who just swindled her count the money.

“You’re looking down on me.” Lin Kexing said, indignant. “When I get to university, I’ll be self-reliant too. Your girlfriend can do it — so can I.”

“You’re different,” Jiang Yan said.

Lin Kexing held back the question: *In what way are we different?*

In what way?

Jiang Yan pressed the screen of his phone awake. His wallpaper was a photo of Jiang Ruoqiao — she was laughing, genuinely happy — and just looking at it, the disappointment from earlier began to fade.

In what way.

Ruoqiao was different from every other girl in the world.