The rain outside had stopped. Feng Ning sat there, zoning out without realizing it.

About ten minutes later, the doorbell rang. Feng Ning slipped on her sandals and went to get the delivery. Sitting at the dining table unwrapping it, she found that today’s plastic bag had been tied into a dead knot.

She worked at it for a while, couldn’t untie it, and finally got up to fetch scissors from the kitchen.

When she sat back down in her chair, Feng Ning suddenly thought—

Jiang Wen and her were really just like this dead knot. So many years had passed, and it still couldn’t be undone, couldn’t be gotten around either. She ate her wontons while replying to his message:

Ning: [How much was it? I’ll pay you back for one.]

61nfiawJ: [You owe me a lot more than that. This is nothing.]

Feng Ning’s brow furrowed. She read it again, making sure she hadn’t misread it.

Ning: [Since when… do I owe you a lot?]

Before she could even set her phone down, a message popped in with a soft chime—

61nfiawJ: [The tutoring fees you owe me from high school. When are you planning to pay those back?]

…

…

She stared at the line of text, silent. It was a long while before Feng Ning came back to herself. She set the phone down, lowered her eyes, and saw the bowl still more than half full of wonton soup. Suddenly she had no appetite.

She ate a couple more bites without really tasting them, cleared the table, then picked up her phone again and opened her chat with Jiang Wen. She still had no idea how to respond to that message.

He had brought up the old matter so calmly, unbothered, but her feelings had long since changed. When it came to their high school years, Feng Ning couldn’t be as lighthearted about it as he was.

Because after her mother died, it had taken her a very long time to come out of it.

For Feng Ning, that had been a long, long period—closed off from everyone, hard to endure. Even after so many years, whenever she thought back on it, the pain was still there.

A bone-deep loneliness had wrapped around her. Feng Ning often startled awake in the middle of the night and sat leaning against the headboard, waiting for dawn. On the rare occasions she managed to sleep until morning, she’d wake up groggy and barely able to breathe.

Jiang Wen had been by her side during her lowest point, so no matter what had happened since, Feng Ning had never held any resentment toward him.

It was she who hadn’t managed to keep him.

Afterward, Jiang Wen left.

She deleted his contact information, deleted their old photos. At school, to avoid passing the sports field, she deliberately took the long way to the cafeteria. Even during the crunch of senior year, she’d transfer buses twice on her way home, just so she wouldn’t have to ride the No. 425 bus.

Feng Ning avoided anything connected to memories of Jiang Wen, and yet she still remembered his phone number, remembered what he looked like, remembered every song he’d ever played for her, remembered the stairwell and school path where they used to run into each other. She remembered him standing on the street, losing his temper at her.

She remembered all of it.

After Zhao Binlin’s phone call that time, Feng Ning had known there was nothing left between her and Jiang Wen. But she still felt there were hurdles she hadn’t gotten over. An idea kept surfacing in her mind: go to Beijing. Just that—no other reason.

At school, her mind would drift to Jiang Wen, and Feng Ning had to spend effort suppressing the urge to go to Beijing. She couldn’t settle her mind.

Right after the April mock exam ended, Feng Ning asked her homeroom teacher for a three-day leave. Carrying her physics textbook and a stack of math papers, she boarded a slow green-skinned train bound for Beijing.

In truth, Feng Ning no longer had any illusions left, and she wasn’t trying to win anyone back. She simply felt that if she visited his city before Jiang Wen left, she’d be able to find some peace.

Enduring it was painful.

Feng Ning felt she’d already suffered enough.

After a full day and night on the train, she arrived in Beijing at six in the morning. Fog had rolled in that day. Feng Ning stood on the platform watching smoke rise from distant chimneys.

She hadn’t brought much money. She’d looked up the city’s bus routes in advance, and her backpack held all her belongings. She rode the bus a long while to reach Jiang Wen’s university.

Their campus was enormous, full of people coming and going.

She’d bought a seat ticket, and in a day and night she’d only slept a few hours—the rest of the time she spent reading through her old chat logs with Jiang Wen.

Every place Jiang Wen had ever mentioned to her, every small detail, she wrote down on paper.

The science building where he often had class, surrounded by a wide stretch of green lawn. The North No. 2 Library where he studied, a lush cypress standing by its entrance. The West No. 3 cafeteria where he often ate, its second floor known for delicious sweet-and-sour pork. And the track where he’d run the 1500 meters, the auditorium where he’d attended the welcome ceremony, the lotus pond that was so beautiful in summer.

Feng Ning wrote it all down, listing every single place.

The train leaving Beijing departed at eight the next morning—she had only one day. Feng Ning spent that whole day asking passing students for directions, walking to every single place Jiang Wen had ever told her about.

In that vast campus, there was no fated coincidental meeting like in an idol drama. Not until the sun set and night fell did Feng Ning walk out of Jiang Wen’s school, along the long main road.

She sat in a 24-hour McDonald’s, watching the city slowly wake up, and felt that she had no more regrets left—that it was fine to stop here.

…

…

Actually, when she’d first started college, Feng Ning still carried some lingering hope, more or less. There was no shortage of admirers around her, but she stayed single the whole time.

She kept greedily thinking that even if the odds were only one in a hundred, one in a thousand, once her illness got better, once Jiang Wen came back from abroad, maybe something could still happen between them.

But her state of mind shifted, year after year. Later still, life filled up with busyness. On the rare occasions she thought of Jiang Wen, she came to feel that some connections really had run their course, that certain things truly needed to be laid to rest.

The sea of people was vast, and they were each just a single grain in that ocean. Time couldn’t flow backward; life kept moving forward. Maybe forgetting was its own kind of release.

Then Jiang Wen suddenly came back to the country. When they ran into each other, she had no mental preparation at all. He’d grown up a lot, changed a lot.

Even though neither of them was who they’d been as teenagers, facing him, she still couldn’t manage to keep her composure. One careless message from Jiang Wen threw her whole heart into disarray—she couldn’t even eat properly.

Feng Ning wasn’t quite sure what he’d meant by that message, but she really couldn’t be as candid as he was.

The alarm she’d set for eight-thirty the night before suddenly went off, and Feng Ning stared at that message for nearly half an hour more.

Ning: [What do you want?]

61nfiawJ: [What can I want?]

Cold-bloodedness had always been in Feng Ning’s bones, unchanged since childhood. She had no patience for going in circles with him, and replied directly:

Ning: [Nothing worth bringing up about the past.]

Jiang Wen replied just as quickly—

61nfiawJ: [Just a joke. You’re this bothered by it?]

His careless line made Feng Ning clench her hand. In her mind she rapidly reviewed everything that had happened these past few days. Jiang Wen’s personality had changed a great deal, but her own attitude toward him had stayed reasonably natural, she thought.

Could Shuang Yao have been right after all?

You sit here agonizing over spring sorrows and autumn grief all by yourself—maybe the other person let go a long time ago.

Ning: [I’m not bothered. Forget it, just consider it me flattering myself.]

61nfiawJ: [I haven’t forgotten the past, but that doesn’t mean I still care about it.]

She read that line silently to herself once, then finally replied with two words: Understood.

Talking about feelings was awkward for both sides—better to be honest gentlemen and part ways cleanly.

The conversation ended there. Jiang Wen didn’t reply again.

Feng Ning set down her phone.

The next day, she went to see Su Liuru.

Su Liuru was her therapist. For years now, Feng Ning had come here regularly for psychological evaluation and treatment.

“How’s your sleep been lately?”

Feng Ning thought about it, then answered honestly, “Not great.”

Su Liuru laced her fingers together and said gently, “Why is that? Work stress, or something else?”

Feng Ning shook her head. “Neither.”

“Then what is it? Want to talk about it with me?”

After weighing it for a while, she said, “Maybe… I ran into someone.”

Su Liuru listened patiently.

Feng Ning said, “I once told him not to get stuck in one place. Now I realize the one who’s been stuck this whole time is me. What should I do?”

Su Liuru guessed, “I remember you mentioning him before—your boyfriend from high school?”

“It’s him.”

Su Liuru nodded in understanding. “Go on, I’m listening.”

Feng Ning said, “When I think back on the time I spent with him now, it’s like drinking a happy-water spiked with… something addictive. Drinking it made me excited, happy, but at the same time I felt utterly exhausted.”

She paused, “I didn’t realize back then that the exhaustion came from my illness. But I blamed all my fatigue on him. So while I enjoyed being loved, I was also impatient with him, cold to him. I couldn’t control myself.”

In front of Su Liuru, Feng Ning had always been candid. “It’s that I wasn’t good enough, and that’s why we drifted apart. All these years, I’ve never been able to let it go. I feel I did that relationship a disservice.”

After listening, Su Liuru smiled. “So do you want to win him back now?”

Feng Ning shook her head. “I don’t. It’s just that whenever I remember it, he gave me something precious in his youth, and I wasn’t able to treasure it—I let it slip by. I don’t know how to dissolve this kind of regret and guilt.”

“So all these years, you never thought of looking for him?”

After a quiet moment, Feng Ning said, “I thought about it. But I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because so many things have changed.”

Jiang Wen wasn’t the Jiang Wen from before.

And she was no longer the Feng Ning from before, either.

Su Liuru patted her shoulder. “Remember what I told you? Feng Ning, don’t blame yourself. If something from the past is causing you pain, then let it go.”

Since they’d both changed—

Then let the past stay in the past.

After that conversation with Su Liuru, Feng Ning felt considerably calmer. She went to Beijing on a half-month business trip, and after coming back, she worked with a senior colleague on a project, busy day and night, with no time to spare for such sentimental matters.

Xiaozhu chattered excitedly in the cubicles: “Oh my god, I just finished a handoff with Maruko’s project manager, and on my way out of their building I think I ran into their boss—so young, and so handsome, ridiculously handsome. I’m not exaggerating, walking past him I nearly cricked my neck, my eyeballs practically fell out.”

Someone asked curiously, “Maruko?”

Guan Tongfu said, “That’s the big overseas fish I mentioned before—runs a hotel chain, just entered the Chinese market this year. Multinational company.”

“Did we win the bid?”

Guan Tongfu raised an eyebrow confidently. “Pretty much. Just one competitor left. And this time their company’s looking for a long-term outsourced translation partner.”

Feng Ning was peeling an apple, head down.

Xiaozhu sidled up next to her. “Boss Ning, I landed you this huge deal and I don’t even get a word of praise?”

Finishing the last strip of peel, Feng Ning said, “Keep it up. We’ll talk once the money’s in the account.”

Xiaozhu’s face lit up dreamily. “Ugh, Boss Ning, you know what? That hottie I ran into at Maruko was seriously unreal. He even had an assistant with him—I was thinking, even if we knocked another percentage point off for them, I’d be fine with it, just so I could go over there and admire the eye candy while doing business, hehe.”

Feng Ning took a bite of her apple.

Guan Tongfu couldn’t take it. “Xiaozhu, you love-struck fool, have you never seen a man before? Look at how little ambition you have!”

Xiaozhu shot back immediately, “I’ve seen men—I see your sorry self every day, what ambition am I supposed to have from that? Head to toe, counting every strand of your hair, you still can’t compare to one finger of that Maruko hottie!”

Guan Tongfu was furious. “—You!”

Feng Ning laughed, listening to them bicker. “Xiaozhu, you like handsome guys? I’ll introduce you to some sometime. Boss Ning here doesn’t have much, but I know plenty of handsome men, lined up in a row.”

“Ahhh, really?!” Xiaozhu shrieked.

Feng Ning took another crunching bite of her apple, unhurried. “Of course I’m lying.”

Xiaozhu deflated instantly.

Guan Tongfu looked up from his documents, mocking her, “If there were any handsome guys, our Ning-jie here would snap them up herself—you think you’d get the leftovers? Besides, a beauty like our Ning-jie, you think it’d fall to you?”

Xiaozhu heard this with perfect calm, walked over, and said, “Guan Tofu, turn around for me, would you.”

Guan Tongfu: “What for?” He turned as told.

Xiaozhu kicked him square in the backside. “Jerk—take that!”

Amid the laughter, Feng Ning’s mood also lightened. Once everything was wrapped up, she picked up her phone and found that Min Yueyue had called her more than ten times.

A screen full of red missed-call notifications—Feng Ning called her back. “What’s up?”

Min Yueyue: “Why did it take you so long to pick up! I haven’t seen you in over half a month.”

Min Yueyue had gone to work at her family’s company after graduating, spending most of her days slacking off, with no way to relate to the busyness of ordinary office workers. Feng Ning sighed. “Miss Min, your humble servant’s been busy with work, just got back from a business trip to Beijing.”

“Do you have plans this weekend?”

“No plans.” Feng Ning thought about it. “Catching up on sleep at home. Oh, is your car fixed yet?”

“Not that fast. Also, why are you sleeping at home again? That’s not good for you—I don’t like seeing you all alone like that.”

After nagging for a while, the little princess said, “I want to ask a cute guy to go to Disneyland with me.”

“Which cute guy.”

“The one from the parking lot.”

Feng Ning raised her eyes, thought back for a moment, and made a small sound of recognition. “Whatever you want.”

“You’re coming too.”

Feng Ning was baffled. “Why would I come?”

“You’re free anyway, just keep me company.”

Feng Ning couldn’t help saying, “You’re going to Disneyland with him? Don’t you have a boyfriend?”

Min Yueyue said, unconcerned, “Broke up a few days ago.”

Feng Ning refused. “Then just the two of you go. Why drag me along, to be the third wheel? Awkward for everyone.”

“No, no, ugh, do you really not get it?” Min Yueyue got worked up. “I like that cute guy, I want to go after him. But I can’t be too obvious about it—even though I’m the one chasing, I still have to keep some restraint. We’re still in the ambiguous flirting stage, I’m just teasing him a little. Besides, I already told him I was going with you, I’m just inviting him along on the side, on the side, get it? If you don’t go, what am I supposed to tell him?”

Feng Ning still refused. “I don’t want to go, find someone else.”

“No, no, no, you have to come with me.” Min Yueyue started whining on the phone again. “Or I’ll show up at your place today and beg until you agree. Come on, please, please?”

Feng Ning was the type who wouldn’t budge for anyone, hard or soft—but Min Yueyue’s particular brand of pouting and clinginess was her one weakness. In the end, she couldn’t hold out against Min Yueyue’s persistence, and agreed.

Saturday morning, seven o’clock, meeting at a Starbucks outside a CBD in Lujiazui. Min Yueyue said they’d watch the fireworks show that night and had booked a homestay near Disneyland for the night, and told Feng Ning to bring a change of clothes.

At the meeting spot, Feng Ning scrolled through Weibo on her phone while eating a steamed bun.

It was late September, and Shanghai’s weather had started swinging unpredictably. Just a few days earlier it had been hot enough to melt someone; it had rained the day before, and today the temperature had dropped ten degrees. Feng Ning hadn’t brought a jacket, only wearing a long-sleeve tee, and the wind made her feel a bit cold. As she shivered, someone called her name from behind.

“Feng Ning.” It was Jiang Wen’s voice.

Feng Ning turned. “What are you doing here?” She quickly caught on. “You’re going to Disneyland today too?”

Jiang Wen nodded.

Feng Ning fell silent.

Jiang Wen stood on the step, wearing a light gray casual shirt today, half-rimmed silver glasses covering those beguiling eyes of his, giving him a noticeably more scholarly, gentle air.

It was the first time Feng Ning had seen him in this look. “You’re nearsighted now?”

Jiang Wen answered, “No prescription.”

Feng Ning swallowed the rest of what she was about to say.

Oh. So it was just for looks.

Feng Ning checked her watch. It was already five past seven. She craned her neck to look around. “Where are they?”

“Giving them some space.”

“What space?”

“Private space.” Jiang Wen’s expression stayed flat. “Let’s go. I’ve got the car.”

They took the elevator down to the parking garage. In the elevator’s reflective mirror, Jiang Wen watched her.

Feng Ning kept her head down, watching the numbers tick by on the elevator display, too absorbed to notice.

In her years in Shanghai, Feng Ning had never once come to Disneyland. The longest line she’d ever waited in was for hotpot. So when they reached the entrance and were met with a dense, overwhelming crowd of people, she nearly turned around and went home.

The moment she spotted Feng Ning, Min Yueyue let out an excited shriek. “Ningning, why are you dressed so plain today!”

She immediately took the huge red bow hairband off her own wrist and put it on Feng Ning.

Feng Ning had a small face, almond-shaped eyes, and an oval jaw. With the exaggerated Mickey headband on and her smooth black hair falling down, she suddenly took on a girlish look. Min Yueyue was delighted and dragged her over for several selfies.

While the two of them were alone for a moment, Feng Ning lowered her voice and demanded, “If you were planning to come here with Bai Hongyi anyway, what was the point of calling me?”

Min Yueyue’s voice took on a wheedling tone. “Wasn’t I just trying to create a chance for you and your ex?”

“I don’t need that.”

Having spent over half a month adjusting her mindset, Feng Ning was considerably calmer now, facing Jiang Wen. She said, “Don’t worry about him and me. We both know where we stand.”

Min Yueyue acted as if she hadn’t heard, then suddenly perked up like she’d made a new discovery, whispering excitedly, “Oh my god Ningning, where did you get that wild hickey on your neck? That looks like a real battle went down!”

“What?” Feng Ning touched her neck. “What hickey, that’s a mosquito bite from the other day.”

The lines at Disneyland could make you feel hopeless before you’d even gotten in. Just to get through the gate took at least an hour and a half. While waiting in line, Min Yueyue and Bai Hongyi chatted, and Jiang Wen stood behind Feng Ning. So many years had passed, and he seemed to have grown even taller.

Every time Feng Ning turned to find Min Yueyue, she kept catching his gaze.

Jiang Wen stood with his hands in his pockets, and when he looked at people, he didn’t lower his head—only his eyes.

As arrogant as ever.

She looked back at him without flinching or avoiding it, and asked pleasantly, “What’s with that look?”

Jiang Wen was like an actor in a silent mime performance—he said nothing, and looked away again.

Feng Ning thought to herself, did I offend you somehow?

They bought express passes and spent nearly an hour, then checked off the ride currently trending on Douyin—TRON Lightcycle Power Run.

There was a souvenir kiosk by the road, and Min Yueyue eagerly went to browse.

By now Feng Ning had only eaten two steamed buns. Feeling a little hungry, she went to a popcorn stand and bought a corn dog. When she scanned to pay, she learned it cost forty yuan and nearly had a heart attack.

Disneyland’s prices were basically robbery. Turned out it was still children’s money that was easiest to make.

Holding back her bleeding heart, she tore open the Stitch-themed wrapper, chewed a couple of bites, and was hit with another bolt from the blue. Feng Ning nearly spat it back out—she’d never in her life eaten a hot dog this bad.

She stared at the bitten sausage in her hand, turning it over and over, wondering if something was wrong with her own taste buds. After several moments of hesitation, she kept eating it anyway.

Feng Ning never wasted food, and having paid forty precious yuan for it, no matter how bad, no matter how hard to choke down, she was going to finish it.

Feng Ning grabbed a random bench and sat down.

She was focused on getting through this expensive corn dog when a bag suddenly landed by her side.

She looked up. It was Jiang Wen.

Feng Ning pulled it open, reached in with her free hand, and found a fuzzy hooded scarf inside. “What’s this for?”

Jiang Wen tilted his head, chin lifting slightly. “Cover it up.”

“Cover what up?” She followed his gaze, lowered her head, and instantly understood.

Feng Ning dug the travel-size floral water out of her backpack, sprayed some on her palm, and dabbed it onto the red mark on her neck.

…

…

By the end of the day, Feng Ning checked her WeChat step count. It showed she’d walked seventeen kilometers.

Given how busy she usually was with work, she rarely made it to the gym. Occasionally she’d go for a run when she had free time, but nothing could compare to enduring Disneyland’s endless, chaotic lines. She felt like the little mermaid from the fairy tale, walking on knives—every step sent a piercing ache through her.

Though Disneyland was out in the suburbs, the nearby town was still fairly lively. By the time Min Yueyue finished watching the fireworks, it was already eight-thirty, and the group went to find a Shanghai-style restaurant for dinner.

While waiting for the food, Shuang Yao sent her a classic Guo Degang crosstalk clip.

Min Yueyue and Bai Hongyi were chatting, no one paying attention to her. Feng Ning put in her earbuds and got absorbed in Master Guo’s comedy routine, laughing despite herself.

After watching for a while, her network suddenly cut out. She checked her cellular signal, then turned to Min Yueyue. “Let me borrow your phone’s wifi hotspot, I need to top up my phone bill.”

Min Yueyue tossed a fry into her mouth. “Ugh, I’m eating, too lazy to grab my phone. Just connect to Jiang Wen’s.”

Feng Ning opened her Bluetooth and immediately saw “-61nfiawJ.” She tapped it. “What’s your password?”

Jiang Wen was sitting across from her and had just opened his mouth to answer when Feng Ning cut him off. “Wait, there are too many people here.” She pulled out paper and a pen and passed them over. “Just write it down.”

He leaned back in his chair, picked up the pen with one hand, wrote the password on the paper, and slid it back to her.

Feng Ning picked it up to look—a sprawling, messy line, the characters oddly ugly.

Ytxwz92459111499959

She started typing it in against the paper. After typing Ytxwz, she hesitated slightly—something flickered through her mind.

Bai Hongyi happened to be right there and glanced at the password on the paper. “Ryan, you really do use the same password for everything. Aren’t you worried about getting hacked?”

Jiang Wen didn’t seem to care. “I’m used to it, too lazy to change it.”

Min Yueyue leaned in to look too. “What is it?”

Bai Hongyi shook his head. “I helped him pick his courses before—his student ID password was this too. Not gonna lie, I even tried logging into his WeChat with it once, and it worked. He still hasn’t changed it. No idea how much he loves this password.”

Min Yueyue took the paper. “Ytxwz… huh, is that short for Chibi Maruko-chan?”

“Is it?” Bai Hongyi hadn’t noticed that before. “Looks like it.”

Min Yueyue looked at Jiang Wen. “Didn’t expect that, Handsome Jiang—you actually like Chibi Maruko-chan? So girly.”

Bai Hongyi teased, “Yeah, Ryan’s got more of a girlish heart than most women.”

Min Yueyue pressed on eagerly, “So what does this string of numbers mean?”

Bai Hongyi thought it over. “Probably nothing—just some lottery ticket number.”

“A lottery ticket?? Why would anyone use a lottery number as a password, did you win?” Min Yueyue found it fascinating, and a little romantic. “Or does it mean something else?”

Jiang Wen kept his expression neutral, said it lightly, dismissively: “Something from the past… don’t really remember.”

“Then why do you insist on using it?”

“Guess I’m a little sentimental about old things.”

The little blue icon appeared, showing the hotspot had connected. Feng Ning pressed her lips into a thin line.

She thought of what he’d said that night.

—I haven’t forgotten the past, but that doesn’t mean I still care about it.

Feng Ning could only pretend she hadn’t noticed anything. She quickly finished topping up her phone bill, disconnected from Jiang Wen’s hotspot, and thanked him with feigned composure.

She opened the WeChat top-up page, bought a small data package, then put her earbuds back in, shutting out their conversation.

Min Yueyue changed the subject. “Weren’t you starting a business abroad? Why’d you suddenly decide to come back?”

“Not sure.” Jiang Wen arched an eyebrow slightly. “Just felt like that wasn’t where I belonged, so I came back.”

Min Yueyue caught sight of the little charm hanging off Feng Ning’s phone and, without thinking much of it, said, “Ningning likes Chibi Maruko-chan too—you two really do have some kind of connection…”

She finished the sentence and Bai Hongyi didn’t catch anything off about it. Jiang Wen’s movements paused for a beat, but he showed nothing either.

Feng Ning didn’t hear it.

The comment was passed over lightly.

None of them could handle much spice, so the dishes they’d ordered leaned sweet. Feng Ning didn’t usually eat much Shanghai cuisine, but having gone hungry all day—only a forty-yuan hot dog and a couple of steamed buns—she was starving now, and even the vegetables looked appetizing.

She ate quickly. Partway through the meal, her WeChat buzzed with a message.

She saw the name and glanced up first at the person across the table.

Jiang Wen had turned to the side, talking with Bai Hongyi.

Feng Ning lowered her eyes and unlocked her phone.

Jiang Wen had sent two photos and a sticker—a corgi peeking its head out from a door crack.

The photos were ones he’d just taken, half an hour earlier, of her lowering her head watching the crosstalk clip, smiling helplessly.

Across the table, Feng Ning glanced up at him again, then typed a message with one hand, texting him:

Ning: [Why are you secretly taking photos of me?]

61nfiawJ: [This dog kind of looks like you.]

Ning: [……]

…

…

After the meal and paying, Bai Hongyi and Jiang Wen went outside to smoke. Min Yueyue’s legs hurt too, so she and Feng Ning both stayed seated to rest. She said, half seriously, “I think Jiang Wen’s kind of trying to flirt with you.”

Feng Ning let the comment go in one ear and out the other. “Is Handsome Jiang still hung up on you, then?”

Min Yueyue studied her thoughtfully. “My gut feeling is he’s still got some kind of faint, lingering thing for you.”

Feng Ning ignored her. “Big Sister, stop overthinking things.”

“How am I overthinking?” Min Yueyue protested. “You’re just too dense. Fine, let me give you an example.”

“Just now while you were eating, you were so focused. Barely looked up at all, right? Then when I was passing dishes and picking up chopsticks, a drop of oil landed on your hand. Before I even reacted, Jiang Wen already handed you a tissue. And you just glanced at the tissue, took it, and still didn’t look at him. If there’s nothing going on between you two, who’d believe it?”

Feng Ning didn’t quite know what to say for a moment. She asked, “And then what?”

Min Yueyue: “What do you mean then what.”

Feng Ning: “There’s no then what.”

The homestay they’d booked was nearby, and the group checked in. It was a standalone small villa; Min Yueyue and Feng Ning stayed on the second floor. They each went to their rooms to shower.

While showering, Min Yueyue called out from the bathroom, “Ningning, there’s no conditioner here, can you go to the convenience store next door and grab me a bottle? Also, grab a hydrating sheet mask too, I forgot to bring one.”

Feng Ning picked up the key and dragged her exhausted body out the door.

This whole area was a homestay district, very quiet. She walked along the cobblestone path. It was pitch dark around, the lighting dim and flickering.

Feng Ning turned into an alley, not expecting to run into anyone.

Hearing movement, Jiang Wen turned his head.

They stared at each other silently for a few seconds. Feng Ning got the sense she’d disturbed him during a moment alone. She meant to walk around him, but he blocked her way.

“…?”

Jiang Wen leaned against the wall, a finger pressed to his lips, signaling for her to keep quiet.

They were close together, and he was tall. She took a small step back.

It was quite dark here, and it took Feng Ning a moment to adjust to the light before she noticed a couple making out against the wall around the corner ahead.

She asked quietly, “What are you doing here?”

Jiang Wen opened his hand—inside was a lighter and a half-empty pack of cigarettes.

Feng Ning glanced at the couple, thoroughly entangled, then turned back. “You’re not leaving?”

Jiang Wen’s brows were long, his eyes narrow—half-smiling, handsome with a touch of gloom. “Interrupt them now?”

Couldn’t you just take a different path?

Feng Ning couldn’t be bothered with him, and shot back sarcastically, “So you’re waiting here for a free show?”

Jiang Wen lit a cigarette without hurrying, still in that same flat tone: “If you’re interested, I don’t mind keeping you company.”