Feng Ning’s thumb hovered over the keyboard for a while.

The tip of her tongue, still stinging from the earlier burn, throbbed faintly. She paced to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and found a piece of ice to put in her mouth.

Leaning against the door frame, holding her phone, she stared at Jiang Wen’s message, lost in thought for a long while. Worried it would show “the other party is typing,” she opened her notes app instead, typed a few words, then deleted them all.

Feng Ning called Shuang Yao, let it ring once, then hung up.

Shuang Yao sent back three angry question marks.

Ning: 【My mouth hurts, don’t feel like talking.】

Shuang Yao A’Yao: 【I was about to fall asleep, what do you want!!!】

Feng Ning sent over two screenshots from her photo album.

Shuang Yao A’Yao: 【-61nfiawJ? Who’s this.】

Ning: 【Jiang Wen. Just added him, haven’t set a note yet.】

Shuang Yao A’Yao: 【?!!!!! Huh???!! Jiang Wen?? Him?? You two??】

Ning: 【Don’t freak out, just tell me how to reply for now】

Shuang Yao called back with a voice call. Feng Ning walked from the kitchen back to the living room, sat cross-legged on the couch, and answered.

“What’s going on with you two? How’d you get back in touch.”

Feng Ning recounted the whole day’s events to Shuang Yao over the phone, then said, “So should I refuse?”

“You two really do have some kind of fate—running into each other in a city this big. Whether to refuse… depends on what you actually want.”

Feng Ning sighed, closed her eyes and leaned back. “What do I want.”

“Have you ever thought about what it’d be like to run into Jiang Wen again?”

Feng Ning didn’t answer right away. She opened her eyes, staring up at the white ceiling, silent for several minutes as memories began to stir.

Had she thought about it?

It seemed like… she used to, in the beginning. Later, thinking about it got tiring, so she stopped.

Shuang Yao asked again, “So how do you feel about Jiang Wen now?”

Feng Ning said honestly, “I don’t know.”

“And him?”

“He’s… changed a lot.”

“It’s been so many years, who hasn’t changed some. Old flames rarely rekindle anyway—wouldn’t it be nice if you two could just be friends?”

Feng Ning asked, giving herself away, “You think we could actually be friends?”

“Comrade Feng Ning, running and hiding every time you see an ex is pretty childish, you know.” Shuang Yao didn’t seem to think much of it. “Besides, you’re over here agonizing by yourself for ages—maybe he’s already moved on.”

After hanging up, Shuang Yao sent another message:

【I miss the little Feng Ning from high school, smiling every single day, like a little sun. Too bad you burned through all your warmth in the first half of your life, now you’re cold as ice to everyone.】

Ning: 【So?】

Shuang Yao A’Yao: 【Nothing. Being cold to everyone is a kind of freedom, and also a kind of tragedy. Chew on that.】

Back when Feng Ning used to give others life advice and philosophical pep talks, Shuang Yao had still been running around in split-crotch pants playing in the mud. This kind of half-baked motivational quote couldn’t move her in the slightest.

Feng Ning composed herself, opened Jiang Wen’s message again, and replied with four words.

Ning: 【Are you asleep?】

A few minutes later, her phone buzzed—

61nfiawJ: 【Third one.】

Ning: 【Sorry, I was showering, didn’t see my phone. What time tomorrow?】

61nfiawJ: 【Three in the afternoon?】

Ning: 【OK】

She tossed and turned all night; reaching for her phone by the pillow, it read five in the morning.

She was having insomnia again.

A sliver of moonlight slipped through the curtain gap, falling onto the floor. She closed her eyes, still couldn’t sleep.

Feng Ning turned on her bedside lamp, picked up her phone, and started watching some old movie at random. Eventually she dozed off in a haze, sleeping for a few hours.

At noon, the alarm rang on schedule. Feng Ning got up, dark circles heavy under her eyes, pulled her hair into a low ponytail, went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face, and sat down drowsily at the makeup mirror.

She picked up her concealer, out of habit covering her arms first before starting on her face. Once her makeup was done, her hand paused mid-lipstick, studying herself in the mirror.

From her carefully drawn brows to the black liner at the corners of her eyes—she wondered if it was too much. After a moment, she pulled out a wet wipe and lightened the color on her lips.

Before heading out, Feng Ning checked the weather forecast specifically.

The temperature wasn’t too high today; she chose a loose-fit white T-shirt and a knee-length denim A-line skirt.

Worried about traffic, Feng Ning didn’t drive. She hailed a cab and gave the driver the address Min Yueyue had sent the night before. As it turned out, this repair shop had recently opened a new branch, and Feng Ning only discovered upon arrival that she hadn’t made a reservation there. She double-checked. “Where’s your other branch?”

The staff pointed out the direction. “Follow this street, turn left at the intersection, it’s not far from here, about a kilometer or so.”

Halfway there, under a blazing sun, it suddenly started to rain. At first the rain was light, but a few minutes later, accompanied by rolling thunder, it turned into a downpour.

Feng Ning was caught completely off guard. She looked around, but there was nowhere to take shelter. Already soaked through, she gave up and kept walking toward the shop.

Jiang Wen had just finished work, still in a full suit, a jacket draped over his arm, leaning against the entrance of the garage.

Female customers passing by couldn’t help glancing at him more than once.

Back in school, wherever he went, girls would cluster together, eyes sweeping over him from head to toe. Jiang Wen had long grown indifferent to it, letting them stare.

The manager brought over some paperwork and had Jiang Wen sit on the couch. They chatted for a bit. Mid-conversation, Jiang Wen suddenly stopped, his gaze shifting.

The manager, reading the room, said, “Is something wrong?”

Jiang Wen didn’t answer.

The manager turned, following his line of sight.

…

…

Feng Ning’s top was soaked through more than half; it clung wetly to her body. Her denim skirt had large water stains all over it. She pushed the shop door open and went in, the AC’s chill making goosebumps rise all over her.

A staff member came up and offered her tissues.

Feng Ning thanked her, took them, and wiped the water off her arms and face. Glancing up by chance, she met the gaze of the person sitting in the waiting area. Her movements slowed.

Jiang Wen sat hunched forward on the couch, watching her for a moment, then turned the water bottle in his hand halfway around and stood up.

Seeing him approach, Feng Ning instinctively turned her body slightly, shielding her arm. She stepped back two paces, a bit urgent. “Jiang Wen, let me borrow your jacket for a bit.”

He said without thinking, “What, planning to steal my clothes again?”

The words were out, and both of them froze for a moment.

Jiang Wen’s eyes went dark, and he tossed the jacket in his hand to her.

Feng Ning quickly put it on, shivering. “Thanks, I’ll get it cleaned and return it.”

Looking a mess now, she followed the signage to find the restroom, splashed water on her face. She pulled out wet wipes from her bag and, facing the mirror, wiped off the remains of her makeup.

When she came out, the staff specifically led the two of them up to the second-floor reception room, saying to Jiang Wen, “There’s no AC in here, is that alright?”

Jiang Wen gave a slight nod.

This repair shop was quite professional and efficient. The manager went over the repair items and rough pricing with them, then slid two forms across. “If you have any other requests, feel free to raise them now. Otherwise, please fill out the intake form and sign to confirm. We’ll notify you both when the car’s ready for pickup.”

The whole process took less than an hour from start to finish. Feng Ning pushed open the glass door to head out; outside, the rain hadn’t stopped, though it had lightened considerably.

The two of them stood under the eaves, Jiang Wen right beside her.

Feng Ning asked, “Did you bring an umbrella?”

“No.”

He instinctively reached for a cigarette in his pocket, put one between his lips, lowering his head to light it.

Feng Ning glanced at him. “You smoke a lot these days.”

Jiang Wen paused, took the cigarette out of his mouth.

Just then, the manager came over and handed them an umbrella. “Oh, it’s really pouring out there, happens we have a spare umbrella in the shop, take it.”

There was only one, and Jiang Wen handed it to Feng Ning. “You take it.”

“What about you?”

Jiang Wen said, “I drove here.”

Feng Ning made a small sound, opened the umbrella, and walked forward a few steps. She turned around, a curtain of rain now between them. She tilted the umbrella back slightly, revealing her face, and said to him, “Do you want to get wet, or wait here for the rain to stop?”

Jiang Wen gave an indifferent smile, said casually, “Neither, really.”

Feng Ning said, “Then get over here already.”

Jiang Wen’s car was parked nearby, a silver-gray BMW Z4 convertible. He unlocked it with his key. “Where to?”

“Home.”

“I’ll drive you?”

Feng Ning declined. “No need for the trouble, I’ll just grab a cab.”

“Why?”

She made up an excuse. “I’m soaked, don’t want to get your car dirty.”

Jiang Wen ignored that entirely. “Get in.”

Rain beat against the glass, droplets sliding down. Feng Ning watched, absorbed.

Jiang Wen’s fingers moved over the navigation screen. “Your place is in Yunan City?”

Feng Ning turned her head, made a sound of confirmation. Her hands rested in her lap, her posture careful.

She suddenly asked, “Is this your car?”

Jiang Wen said, “Yeah.”

Feng Ning looked a bit puzzled. “You just got back though.”

As she spoke, she accidentally bit her tongue—right on the same spot burned by hot water the night before.

Feng Ning’s words cut off mid-sentence, and she let out a muffled groan, her face immediately twisting in pain she couldn’t hold back. She clapped both hands over her mouth, doubling over, tears of pure reflex springing to her eyes.

Jiang Wen jerked the wheel, pulling the car over to the side of the road. He unbuckled his seatbelt, turned. “What’s wrong?”

Feng Ning tried to speak, but the moment she opened her mouth she felt a large amount of saliva about to spill out. She freed one hand, pointed at her mouth, then waved it at him, signaling she was fine.

About a minute later, the sharp pain finally began to ease. Feng Ning pulled out her phone, typed a line, and held it up to Jiang Wen:

【I accidentally bit my tongue】

The wipers moved slowly across the windshield. He asked, “Is it bleeding?”

Feng Ning nodded, then typed quickly again:

【Let’s go, or we’ll get a parking ticket】

The car got moving again, and after a while, Feng Ning noticed they weren’t on the right route. She didn’t ask, assuming he had something to take care of.

Jiang Wen pulled up next to a KFC. “Wait here a minute.”

Feng Ning sat in the car, playing on her phone.

About ten minutes later, Jiang Wen came back. He pulled open the car door and dropped a plastic bag onto her lap.

It had a green pharmacy logo on it.

Feng Ning looked a bit confused, opened the bag—watermelon frost powder, mouthwash, canker sore patches. She paused, then said to him, “Thank you.”

Jiang Wen picked up a Bluetooth earpiece, put it in his right ear. “Don’t mention it.”

Feng Ning said, “How much was it, I’ll transfer it to you.”

Jiang Wen had both hands on the wheel, already on a call, and acted as if he hadn’t heard her.

Listening, it seemed he was discussing work with the person on the other end. She closed her mouth, tactfully not interrupting further.

…

…

Back home, Guan Tongfu sent over a translation project for her to proofread.

Feng Ning took off her jacket, quickly showered, and moved her laptop to the study. She worked straight through until dark.

She stretched, her stomach growling. Only then did she realize, belatedly, that she hadn’t eaten a single meal all day.

Feng Ning opened Meituan, ordered her usual delivery, and started tidying the apartment while her hair was still pinned up.

Cleaning the living room, her eyes landed on the jacket tossed carelessly on the couch.

Feng Ning bent down, picked up Jiang Wen’s designer suit jacket, and checked the tag. She couldn’t find the brand online. She checked the care label too, and it turned out—couldn’t be dry cleaned, couldn’t be washed either.

She couldn’t help cursing under her breath. After thinking it over, she sent him a WeChat message:

Ning: 【This jacket of yours, how much did it cost?】

She waited a few minutes; he didn’t reply. Feng Ning set her phone down, went back to mopping.

By the time she’d finished the balcony too, she picked her phone back up—

61nfiawJ: 【What’s up】

Choosing her words carefully, Feng Ning replied:

Ning: 【I got your jacket dirty. I just checked, seems like it can’t be washed.】

61nfiawJ: 【Oh, just toss it then.】

The moment Feng Ning read this message, her first reaction was pure speechlessness—she genuinely didn’t know what to say.

After the speechlessness, right behind it, came a sudden, powerful wave of familiarity. That feeling instantly pulled her back, many years into the past.

It felt as if there had never really been all this distance and unfamiliarity between them. He was still that same young master with a mild disdain about him, who, the moment his cleanliness compulsion kicked in, would strip off his clothes without hesitation and toss them on the ground.

At the bar.

“Ugh, Jiang Wen, you damn well come back without even a heads-up. Though I guess it’s good you’re back, otherwise I’d be all alone in the world. Lately it’s either weddings or someone’s kid’s hundred-day banquet, I feel like I’ve been left behind by the times.”

Zhao Binlin had been talking for a while before he noticed Jiang Wen was looking down at his phone, barely paying attention to him at all.

He stopped, nudged Jiang Wen’s shoulder. “This late, and you’re texting who?”

Jiang Wen didn’t answer, clearly not having heard a word he’d said.

Zhao Binlin leaned over to look himself, let out an “oh,” and grinned. “It’s actually Feng Ning.”

Jiang Wen said, “Ran into her yesterday.”

“How many times did I try to push you to add her before, why didn’t you?” Zhao Binlin put on a thoughtful expression, recalling. “Wasn’t your line something like, ‘not much point forcing it’? That’s what you said, right?”

Jiang Wen’s right hand held his phone, resting on the table. His eyes stayed on the chat window with Feng Ning, making no effort to hide it.

He picked up his glass, took a drink.

Zhao Binlin said, “I see all these years have really toughened up your face, you’re not even embarrassed for me to laugh at you.”

Jiang Wen made an indifferent sound of acknowledgment, thoroughly unbothered.

“No shame at all, still just as shameless as ever.”

Jiang Wen bit a cigarette between his lips, lit it with a click, tossed the lighter aside carelessly. “Yeah.”

Catching Jiang Wen’s expression, Zhao Binlin understood and closed his mouth.

Amid the curling smoke, Jiang Wen said, “I hugged her yesterday.”

Zhao Binlin wasn’t surprised, just asked, “Is that right.”

“Just for a few seconds.”

Zhao Binlin thought of a question. “So what did it feel like, running into Feng Ning?”

“What feeling?”

“Yeah, what feeling.” Jiang Wen’s face went blank of expression, falling into a brief silence. Not until the cigarette between his fingers burned out did he make a sound.

Zhao Binlin thought he wasn’t going to get an answer at all.

“Talking to her…”

He suddenly spoke, then stopped again.

Zhao Binlin waited quietly for him to continue.

“Every word.”

Jiang Wen’s fingers traced the outside of the glass, his eyes fixed on the liquor inside. “Every single word, I was holding myself back.”

With that, he raised the glass, his throat working as he swallowed, and drank the rest in one go.