Hatred alone isn’t enough to kill a person, or Situ Jue would have cut Yao Qiyun down where he stood a hundred times over. She said that if Yao Qiyun ever told on her, she would hate him forever — but honestly, that was mostly bluster, since she knew there wasn’t much she could actually do to him.

What did Yao Qiyun have to be afraid of? He was impervious to blades and spears, untouched by fire or flood, unmoved by soft words or hard ones — he feared no violence and had no weakness for beauty (here, both violence and beauty referred to Situ Jue herself). He was the kind of devilish creature you couldn’t cut down no matter how hard you tried. Aside from being carefully, quietly afraid of making a mistake in front of Situ Jiu’an and his wife, he had no other weakness. And catching him out in front of her parents was no easy feat — in the eyes of Situ Jiu’an and his wife, he was the model good child, the mirror against which all of Situ Jue’s flaws showed up plainly. Even though Situ Jue refused to admit defeat, she had to concede she had no good way to deal with him.

She waited for her mother to come settle accounts with her over the Lian Quan business — even if her father found out and turned her into a scapegoat, she’d accept that. The only thing she truly worried about was dragging Lian Quan into it. Knowing Situ Jiu’an’s temper, it wasn’t out of the question that he’d storm the school and drag out the “culprit who seduced his daughter” for a talking-to.

Situ Jue steeled herself to weather the coming storm, but after several days passed without a whisper of trouble, she began to suspect that Yao Qiyun, that dedicated snitch, had kept his mouth shut this time. Still, no matter how she turned it over in her mind, she couldn’t think of a single reason he’d let her off the hook. Had she somehow overpowered him with sheer nerve that day — could the invulnerable Yao Qiyun actually be afraid of her hatred? It seemed a normal person could never fathom the workings of a freak’s mind.

In any case, though Yao Qiyun had stayed silent for the time being about the tryst he’d witnessed, he’d clearly resolved to haunt her like a ghost to the bitter end. Situ Jue could now, from time to time, steal forty-five minutes alone with Lian Quan after evening study — but mind you, the word “alone” absolutely deserved to be set off in heavy quotation marks. Because in that quiet space, besides her and Lian Quan, there were also mosquitoes, cockroaches… and Yao Qiyun.

At first Lian Quan simply couldn’t get used to it — he found the whole thing utterly absurd. But since he liked Situ Jue, and getting close to Situ Jue meant accepting this peculiarly Situ-family style of dating, he had no choice. Yao Qiyun was required to walk home with Situ Jue every day, or else Xue Shaoping would start asking questions. So whether Situ Jue was sitting through the last period of evening study, staying after class to ask a teacher a question, playing ball with classmates after school, or spending time with Lian Quan — Yao Qiyun waited for her, with his unbelievable patience.

While Situ Jue and Lian Quan, a young couple stealing sweetness under cover of night, carried on, Yao Qiyun kept his distance and occupied himself with his own business — most of the time, memorizing vocabulary. Fortunately he was extremely quiet; if you deliberately ignored him, he was like a silent decorative rock. And that was exactly what Situ Jue intended to do.

Humans really are remarkably adaptable creatures. After a few times, under Situ Jue’s fearless example, even Lian Quan — who at first hadn’t been able to loosen up under Yao Qiyun’s glaring presence, that ultimate third wheel — came to accept the situation, since the wheel burned on so silently. And gradually, once he realized Yao Qiyun was purely waiting for the sake of waiting and wasn’t going to do anything out of line, Lian Quan, lost in the sweetness of the moment, sometimes forgot Yao Qiyun was even there.

Situ Jue, for her part, threw herself into her private mission of “not resting until Yao Qiyun was thoroughly infuriated.” He wanted to tag along? Fine, let him tag along. The more present Yao Qiyun was, the closer she deliberately clung to Lian Quan, the more brightly she laughed, secretly cursing that he’d get a stye in his eye for looking at things he shouldn’t. Their first sweet kiss had been rudely interrupted by Yao Qiyun’s tactlessness — but could he really stop it from happening again and again, just because he’d spoiled it once?

The first time Situ Jue felt Lian Quan’s trembling lips against hers, she couldn’t help sneaking a glance toward where Yao Qiyun sat. His lowered profile, absorbed in his book, was gilded by the streetlight in a faint yellow glow, and somehow looked gentler than the sullen boy she remembered. He didn’t turn a page of his English-Chinese dictionary for a very long time, didn’t so much as move a fingertip, not until Lian Quan, breathing hard, pulled Situ Jue tightly into his arms.

Situ Jue would come to regret that glance more than almost anything. A first kiss should have been the most heart-stirring, tender memory of youth — and yet, years later, when she tried hard to recall the scene of that kiss, all she could remember was Yao Qiyun under the streetlight.

Those days went on until the eve of Lian Quan’s college entrance exams — the time when Situ Jue and Lian Quan were most reluctant to part, when it felt like they had endless things to talk about. Setting aside the awkwardness of their dating arrangement, Situ Jue genuinely, truly liked Lian Quan, and she felt real reluctance about the university and departure that awaited him. During this time Yao Qiyun didn’t interrupt them much — apart from quietly putting in earplugs to practice English listening comprehension while their sweet talk was in full swing, and standing up when it got late to remind Situ Jue, “If you don’t head back now, you can explain it to your mother yourself.”

The night the exams ended, Lian Quan — usually so sunny and cheerful — seemed weighed down by something, and there was a new, complicated look in his eyes as he gazed at Situ Jue. She noticed, and asked if something was troubling him. Lian Quan cupped her face and said, “I want to stay and be with you, but my family wants me to go to university in Beijing. If nothing changes, once the acceptance letter comes I’ll be leaving soon, and I won’t see you for a long time. I’m afraid that by the time I come back, you won’t be my Situ anymore.”

Situ Jue smiled faintly. “You have that little faith in me?”

“I have that little faith in myself.”

“That doesn’t sound like you at all.”

It was true — this kind of anxious insecurity wasn’t like the usual bright, spirited Lian Quan at all.

Lian Quan scratched his short hair, embarrassed. “So many people want to be with you, all lurking behind me with their eyes on you — of course I feel threatened.”

“Is that so?” Situ Jue asked, feigning indifference.

“Of course. You mean you don’t know?” Lian Quan seemed about to say more, but caught himself and stopped.

“Situ, I really do like you. I regret listening to my family about my university choice. If I go study somewhere far away, will you miss me… I really want to hear you say you like me too, the same way.”

Situ Jue’s face went red as she wriggled free a little. “That’s embarrassing to say.”

“Say it or not?” Lian Quan gave her lips a light, punishing peck, then turned it into a sweet plea. “Come on, say it, make me happy.”

Unable to resist, Situ Jue relented. “Of course I like you — why else would I risk my parents finding out, just to be with you?”

Lian Quan finally smiled, his beautiful eyes lit up with joy.

“Situ, I’m really afraid the ‘like’ you feel isn’t the same kind of like I mean.”

He tightened his grip on Situ Jue’s hand, and she suddenly realized there was something small, cold, and hard pressed into her palm. She opened her hand to look — it was a small platinum band ring.

“What is this for?”

“Trust me, and wait for me. Once we’ve both graduated, let’s get married. I mean it seriously, Situ. By then nothing will be able to keep us apart.”

They both seemed to hear a faint, cold laugh somewhere not far off, but the sound was so soft neither could be sure it wasn’t just their imagination. Lian Quan especially had no attention to spare for anything but the ring, and Situ Jue staring at it, dumbstruck, in his arms.

Situ Jue really was startled. Like most girls her age, she longed for romance, but marriage felt like something a hundred million light-years away — too distant, too unimaginable. That delicate, cold ring suddenly felt scalding hot in her hand.

She hurriedly, clumsily tried to push the ring back into Lian Quan’s hands. “I can’t accept this, it’s too valuable a gift.” But it wasn’t just the gift that was heavy — it was the weight of the boy’s feelings behind it.

At Situ Jue’s reaction, a flicker of frustration crossed Lian Quan’s face, though he quickly hid it well. He laughed at himself. “I spent most of my New Year’s money and allowance on this ring. I thought what we had was strong enough not to care about worldly things like that. The ring is just a token — I wanted to put it on you, to keep you close to me… Honestly, I guessed you wouldn’t accept it.”

Situ Jue reached out to smooth the crease between Lian Quan’s brows. A boy like him shouldn’t have to carry sorrow.

If anyone else had done something like this, she probably would have laughed it off. But because it was Lian Quan, she couldn’t laugh — every breath he took was so sincere, she could feel the depth of the affection this boy genuinely felt for her.

A pang of guilt rose in Situ Jue’s heart, and she leaned in even closer against him.

“I’m not rejecting you — let’s just leave the future for later, okay? Hold on to the ring for now. If that day you talked about really comes, once we’re both grown up, and there’s still no one else in your heart, then maybe I’ll be happy to accept it.”

“I hope so.”

Lian Quan didn’t press further, wrapping his arms around Situ Jue until she could barely breathe, lowering his head to kiss her almost desperately. Compared to his usual carefulness, there was more heat in his movements now, as if he wished he could fold her into himself entirely, so he wouldn’t have to endure the pain of parting, so nothing could ever separate them.

Under this onslaught, Situ Jue felt a flicker of panic, yet she was also swept up in the sorrow of parting that clung to Lian Quan. Such a good boy, offering her his truest feelings — and she didn’t know how to repay him, except to yield to his kisses.

In the midst of their entangled reluctance to part, Lian Quan nibbled at Situ Jue’s ear and murmured, “Couldn’t Yao Qiyun just disappear for a while?”

Situ Jue stiffened. “I… there’s nothing I can do about that. Why do you care about him?”

“Can we really not care?” Lian Quan, lost in the kiss, let his lips trail down along Situ Jue’s neck.

“Stop, that tickles.” Situ Jue gave him a light push.

This small resistance was swept aside, unnoticed, by Lian Quan’s blazing passion — until Situ Jue felt his hand quietly slipping beneath her shirt. She startled, immediately grabbing his wrist. “Don’t.”

But the young man, his head clouded with passion, paid no heed. His other hand came creeping up right behind the first.

Only Lian Quan didn’t understand Situ well enough — she never played the game of feigned refusal. If she said no, she meant no. In the dim light, her expression had already changed. But before she could shove Lian Quan away, her ears picked up something first — some unidentified object hurtling toward them with a whistling gust of wind.

Saying “them” isn’t quite accurate — to be precise, the object was aimed at Lian Quan, and it struck squarely, dead-center, on his back. The unidentified flying object completed its mission and thudded to the ground. Situ Jue recognized it at a glance — it was an old English-Chinese dictionary she used to own, now in Yao Qiyun’s possession.

Yao Qiyun hadn’t held back when he threw it. Lian Quan’s face twisted in pain the instant it hit him, and before he could react, the culprit had already stormed over, grabbing him by the collar at the back of his neck and hauling him away from Situ Jue.

“Disgusting,” she heard Yao Qiyun say, his voice cold as ice.

Both his words and the action behind them were, to anyone, an absolute insult — and to Lian Quan, even more so. He wrenched Yao Qiyun’s hand off him, stepped back, and glared at him furiously. Only to find that the person who had started this had eyes even more full of hatred than his own.

“Who are you calling disgusting? Watch your mouth.” Lian Quan raised his chin and moved forward, but Situ Jue, stunned by the whole scene, pulled him back.

Yao Qiyun looked down, brushing off his own hand as if merely touching Lian Quan had dirtied it. “Is there anyone here more disgusting than you? Not just your mouth — your whole body, including your brain, needs cleaning up. What you did wasn’t just disgusting, it was subhuman.”

When it came to sharpness of tongue, Lian Quan was nowhere near a match for the taciturn Yao Qiyun, and besides, he was, more often than not, a kind, well-raised boy. Yao Qiyun’s relentless presence had caused him plenty of grief over time, and he’d endured it all without a harsh word — but resentment had been quietly accumulating. And now Yao Qiyun had struck at the rawest, most sensitive nerve in Lian Quan at the worst possible moment. Words he would never normally say came spilling out.

“Yao Qiyun, I think the truly shameless one here is you. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re really after, following us around. Playing the righteous guardian — but really, you’re just jealous. Jealous that I’m the one by her side. And isn’t what I’m doing exactly what you want, but can’t have?”

“You’re talking nonsense!”

The same retort came out of two mouths at once.

It wasn’t just Yao Qiyun whose face flushed red — Situ Jue couldn’t hold her composure either. Honestly, this wasn’t the first time boys had come to blows over her, not since kindergarten — but never before had it felt this humiliating. She felt no thrill of vanity; instead, she felt like the one exposed and uncomfortable.

Trying to smooth things over, she pulled Lian Quan close, gently rubbing his back. “Are you okay from that hit just now? Don’t talk nonsense, let’s go.”

To her surprise, Lian Quan — usually so compliant with her — pulled his hand away. “I’m not talking nonsense. Of course you’re kept in the dark, Situ, but I’m a guy too, and I’m not wrong about this — someone’s using his elders’ orders as an excuse, when really all he wants is to become the Situ family’s son-in-law.”

His words pointed straight at Yao Qiyun. Rather than growing angrier, Yao Qiyun went eerily calm. “I’ll forgive your nonsense, because people like you assume everyone else is as vulgar as you are — with nothing better to do than think up sweet lies to trick girls. I didn’t want to bother with either of you, but the sappy things you say and the shameless things you do genuinely disgust me.”

Before Situ Jue could even step in, Lian Quan — usually so quick and capable — had already thrown a punch straight at Yao Qiyun’s face. Yao Qiyun staggered, bent at the waist, turned to the side, and spat out a mouthful of blood.

Situ Jue shoved Lian Quan hard. “What are you doing!” Without thinking twice, she rushed to check the wound on Yao Qiyun’s face — but he refused her help, dodging away with unmistakable distaste.

Lian Quan, still furious, jabbed a finger toward Yao Qiyun. “This punch is to tell you — you’re nothing but a dog the Situ family keeps. And even a dog can’t just bark whenever it wants.”

“Lian Quan, shut your mouth!”

Yao Qiyun only gave a cold laugh, unbothered. It was Situ Jue who was enraged by those words.

She herself had said things like that to Yao Qiyun before — cursed at him, humiliated him — but that was her business, her war with Yao Qiyun. She couldn’t stand hearing those words come out of someone else’s mouth — even Lian Quan’s — and it infuriated her all the same.

Lian Quan stood stunned for a moment.

“You’re still defending him?”

“He’s family. It’s not your place to insult him, and even less your place to lay a hand on him!”

“So you’re fine with him following you around like a dog forever?”

Situ Jue’s warning finger was nearly jabbing into Lian Quan’s face, a face twisted with anger, humiliation, resentment, and jealousy all at once.

“Say the word ‘dog’ one more time and see what happens!”

Furious, Situ Jue still looked stunning — but to Lian Quan she suddenly felt like a total stranger.

“He follows me. Not you. If you don’t like it, then stay away from me.”

“So this is how you feel?” Lian Quan forced himself to hold back, but his eyes glistened with tears he absolutely refused to let fall.

Situ Jue felt an overwhelming sadness. How had things between her and the boy she liked ended up like this?

“Forget it, Lian Quan, why don’t you go first? If we both think things through, we can talk on the phone.”

Lian Quan walked away without another word.

“Wait.” Yao Qiyun called out gruffly. Lian Quan stopped, but didn’t turn around.

“That’s enough…” Afraid Yao Qiyun wouldn’t let it go, Situ Jue grabbed him, forcing the words out through gritted teeth.

Yao Qiyun crouched down, picked up the ring that had been forgotten on the ground, and tossed it lightly toward Lian Quan.

“Take your thing.”

The ring landed in the grass, rolled a little, and made no sound. Lian Quan’s hand clenched quietly at his side; he stepped straight over the ring and strode off without a backward glance. Only a dazed Situ Jue and a once-again silent Yao Qiyun remained.

After a tense pause, Situ Jue reached out, none too gently, and yanked Yao Qiyun’s face toward her.

“What are you doing, keep your hands to yourself.” He resisted as usual, unable to come up with anything better to say.

Situ Jue didn’t care, forcibly turning his face to examine the injury.

“You think I want to touch you? I just wanted to see how badly your face got wrecked.”

“You’re the one who’s wrecked, swallowed whole by someone else and you don’t even know it.” The punch Lian Quan had landed was every bit as forceful as the dictionary Yao Qiyun had thrown. Half of Yao Qiyun’s face was swollen, and speaking pulled at his lip, making his words come out slightly slurred with pain.

Using the excuse of checking the injury, Situ Jue pressed down hard right on the bruise.

“You—” Yao Qiyun flinched at the pain, gritting his teeth and glaring at her.

Seeing there was no serious damage, Situ Jue let go of the hand she’d still been gripping.

“Serves you right.”

“None of your business. Go run off after him.”

“Whether I go or not is none of your business either. Useless — getting hit and not even fighting back.”

“I didn’t feel like bothering with him.” Yao Qiyun picked up his dictionary, carefully brushing the dirt off it. “You think I couldn’t beat him? Only an idiot solves things with their fists.”

“An idiot squared throws books, then.” Situ Jue shot back. Still, she didn’t doubt what he’d said — Yao Qiyun might have a mouth on him, but he never bragged about things that weren’t true. Thin as he was, he wasn’t weak. A kid like him, who’d lost his mother young and later his father too, raised in the countryside — to avoid being bullied, fighting had probably been a daily occurrence.

“Let’s go, it’s late now.” Yao Qiyun shoved her shoulder, none too gently.

Remembering what had just happened, Situ Jue shook her head and let out a sharp cry, dropping down to sit on the grass, kicking at the blades in frustration. “What am I going to do, what am I going to do. Lian Quan’s definitely done with me now, everything was fine, how did it turn out like this… If you want to go, just go, go on, go, go, go — tell my mom I got carried off by wolves.”

Yao Qiyun hated it most when she acted like this, and she’d expected he’d have no patience for it and just leave. Instead, after a moment, she felt him sit down beside her.

“You practically did get carried off by a wolf. Him taking advantage of you like that — I’ve never seen anyone as dense as you.” His tone dripped with sarcasm.

Thinking of Lian Quan’s wandering hands, Situ Jue felt a flash of irritation too, her face going red, though she wasn’t about to back down. “Weren’t you wearing earplugs to study English? So you were eavesdropping. Besides, I like him — who was taking advantage of whom is none of your business, you wouldn’t get it anyway.”

He answered with a mocking laugh.

Situ Jue drew her knees up, propped her chin on her hands, and stared at the dim, barely visible stars above, murmuring wistfully to herself, “Honestly, Lian Quan isn’t a bad person. I know he really does like me… sigh.”

“Guys are all visual creatures. What’s his kind of ‘liking’ even worth?” Yao Qiyun said disdainfully.

Situ Jue narrowed her eyes at him. “Yao Qiyun, are you backhandedly telling me I’m pretty?”

“You really do know how to entertain yourself.” He turned his face away. “I’m saying you’re all show and no substance — which, come to think of it, matches that guy just now perfectly. Both of you only care about surfaces.”

“So you love my soul instead, is that it?” Situ Jue snapped.

“You… you really have no filter at all.” Yao Qiyun couldn’t take it anymore and stood up. “But let me remind you — when a guy wants to take advantage of you, he’ll say all the sweet things in the world. Marriage, forever — it’s laughable. If you actually believe it, you’re even more foolish.”

“Whatever’s good, it sounds twisted coming out of your mouth. That’s called a promise! A promise! Do you even understand that?”

“People who don’t understand what a promise means make them too easily. People who truly value promises are afraid of vows.” Yao Qiyun finished, then added impatiently, “Get up, let’s go home.”

“Yao Qiyun, hearing something that deep come out of your mouth is just plain weird.” Situ Jue looked up at him. “So tell me — if you loved someone, would you never make her a promise either?”

She stretched a hand toward him. Yao Qiyun rolled his eyes but reluctantly pulled her up.

“Only when it’s something I know I can actually deliver. I won’t promise things I can’t be sure of. A promise carries weight.”

“How much weight?”

“Not as much as you weigh, Situ Jue! You’ve put on nothing but bone-deep fat.”