Chen Qingwu slept until eleven in the morning, woken by a video call from Liao Shuman.

She had stuck the note on her bedroom door handle where Liao Shuman would see it immediately when coming to wake her.

Liao Shuman naturally came to call her to account, saying her temper was getting worse and worse—yesterday she’d only said a few words to her and she ran away from home overnight. What she said wasn’t even harsh—how could her reaction be so extreme?

Chen Qingwu was terribly sleepy and only perfunctorily admitted her fault.

A doorbell rang from the video end. Liao Shuman said, “I’ll stop talking now—but you can’t do this again next time, understand? It’s so dangerous for a girl to drive alone in the middle of the night.”

“Wasn’t alone…” Chen Qingwu said drowsily.

“Who else was there?”

“Brother Yuan drove me.”

Liao Shuman seemed to find it incredible. “Meng Fuyuan? He has an afternoon flight today, and he still drove you in the middle of the night?”

Chen Qingwu suddenly became alert. “…He’s leaving this afternoon?”

“That’s right.”

“Leaving from where?”

“Flying from South City to North City for a connection.” Liao Shuman walked toward the door while saying, “Look how willful you are, causing such trouble for people.”

“Is he back in South City now?”

“How would I know…”

It seemed the guests had entered on the other end, and the call was abruptly disconnected.

Chen Qingwu couldn’t sleep anymore. She quickly sat up and sent Meng Fuyuan a message: Brother Yuan, you have an afternoon flight?

Unexpectedly, the message was replied to instantly. Meng Fuyuan said yes.

Chen Qingwu: Why didn’t you say so earlier.

She added a crying-laughing emoji.

Yesterday when she heard Meng Fuyuan mention his business trip was postponed, she naturally assumed it would be at least after the Dragon Boat Festival.

Chen Qingwu: If I’d known, I definitely wouldn’t have troubled you.

Meng Fuyuan: It’s fine.

Chen Qingwu: You’re flying from South City to North City for a connection, right? So right now you’re…

Meng Fuyuan: Changed my itinerary. Flying direct from East City this afternoon.

Chen Qingwu sent a head-banging emoji and replied: I’ve really caused you so much trouble, I don’t even know how to thank you…

Meng Fuyuan: You can treat me to a meal.

Chen Qingwu: Definitely!

After finishing the WeChat conversation, Chen Qingwu lay back down.

But inexplicably, all sleepiness was gone.

She kept feeling that Meng Fuyuan’s care for her during this period had far exceeded what she could repay.

Examining her conscience, if it were her with an afternoon international flight and a long-haul journey ahead, she absolutely wouldn’t have the energy or patience to drive four hours in the early morning to take someone somewhere.

She went through all their interactions during this time.

The more she thought about it, the more confused she became, and the less sleepy she felt.

On the other side, when Liao Shuman opened the door, she didn’t see Meng Fuyuan.

Before she could ask, Qilin spoke first: “Fuyuan isn’t coming today. His company had something urgent, so he went back last night.”

When Liao Shuman heard this, she felt even more apologetic: “It’s not that his company had something urgent—it’s that Qingwu and I had an argument last night, so she went back to East City overnight, and she even troubled Fuyuan to drive her.”

Qilin said with a laugh, “So that’s what happened? I was wondering what could be so urgent that he had to rush back overnight.”

Liao Shuman said, “Qingwu is immature and really caused trouble for people.”

“What’s the big deal? Qingwu is his younger sister. As her older brother, it’s right for him to take extra care of her. He couldn’t let a girl drive alone in the middle of the night…”

Meng Qiran, listening from the side, felt something strange.

That subtle feeling was hard to describe, but he felt something wasn’t right.

It wasn’t about Meng Fuyuan driving Chen Qingwu overnight—as an older brother, when certain matters fell to him, he had always been duty-bound.

After a moment, he finally figured out what wasn’t right:

Driving someone wasn’t a bad thing, so why would Meng Fuyuan lie about it?

At noon, Chen Qingwu casually ate takeout, rested for half an hour, then got up to work.

Zhao Yingfei had gone home for Dragon Boat Festival. She had no other close friends in East City, and this place was far from the city center, so naturally she had no interest in socializing.

Right now she still had a pile of trivial matters to handle, the most troublesome being photographing her previous works.

Arranging, lighting, shooting… the afternoon passed quickly.

Just as she was preparing to go out to the nearby university district for dinner, she suddenly heard footsteps outside the door.

Thinking it was a delivery person, Chen Qingwu looked outside.

A tall figure wearing a dark blue T-shirt, gray shorts and sneakers, with a black sports backpack slung across one shoulder—it was clearly Meng Qiran.

Meng Qiran’s gaze swept toward her. Because of that naturally cool and proud handsome appearance, she always felt that when he looked at people seriously, there was a sharp intensity that made it impossible to meet his eyes directly.

Chen Qingwu turned to pack up the softbox light on the floor. “How did you get here?”

“Of the gifts I gave you, you only opened one. Don’t you like them?”

“I don’t lack things. Take them back.”

“Gifts I give out, I never take back. If you don’t like them, just throw them away.”

Meng Qiran walked over, looked at what she was doing, and suddenly reached out, snatched the power cord from the lightbox in her hands, crouched down, folded it loop by loop, and finally tied it up with a velcro cable tie.

Several times Chen Qingwu prepared to take it back, but was gently pushed away each time.

Only after finishing did he say in a low voice, “Pretty heartless, Chen Qingwu.”

Chen Qingwu suddenly froze.

“Won’t let me get close to you, won’t listen to me speak, won’t accept my gifts… You really won’t give me even the slightest chance, will you?”

Chen Qingwu’s heart felt like it was being wrung, sourly unbearable.

Meng Qiran kept his eyes down. “You can speak normally to everyone except me. Taking ten thousand steps back—wasn’t it you who said our relationship like twin siblings wouldn’t change? Have you done that?”

Chen Qingwu couldn’t make a sound.

Meng Qiran reached out, paused, then grasped her wrist.

He maintained his crouching position on the ground, lifting his eyes slightly to look at her. “I’ve been in pain during this time, Wuwu. Not knowing what to do, thinking of many ways, but it seems I still did wrong…”

In such a low, upward-looking posture, even the most hard-hearted person would find it difficult to speak harshly.

“I only found out at noon that you had an argument with Auntie. Don’t worry, I’ll explain things clearly to the parents. They won’t tease us casually anymore. I’m not asking you to agree to me right now, but at least… don’t refuse to talk to me anymore.”

“I haven’t refused to talk to you…”

“What you say—how is that different from not talking to me?”

Chen Qingwu knew she had never been a cold-blooded person. Her determination was only because she thought further ahead than Qiran. “I’m sorry, Qiran. But I really don’t want to go back.”

“I said I’m not asking you to answer me immediately, just don’t refuse to let me approach you.”

“…But you’ve preset that I’ll agree sooner or later, haven’t you?”

Meng Qiran didn’t speak.

“If I know for certain I’ll never agree to you, yet still accept your pursuit, wouldn’t that make me despicable…”

“The reason you absolutely can’t agree is?”

“I’ve said it—I don’t like you anymore.”

A moment of silence.

Meng Qiran released her hand and stood up. His voice held an emotion hard to define. “Doesn’t matter. You can’t really cut ties with me anyway.”

“How do you know I won’t…”

“You won’t.”

“Then block me right now.” Meng Qiran picked up her phone from the desk and handed it to her. “Block me right in front of me.”

The phone was forcibly shoved into her hands.

Meng Qiran stared at her, his gaze carrying a hawk-like sharp sense of pressure.

Chen Qingwu raised her eyes to meet his. “You think I really don’t dare?”

Seeing that she seemed genuinely prepared to open WeChat, Meng Qiran snatched the phone away and tossed it back to its original place.

In that instant just now, he’d only felt alarmed, discovering he always misjudged.

The current Chen Qingwu always showed him sides he’d never seen before—extremely unfamiliar, making him wonder if he had never truly known her in the past.

“Have you eaten dinner?” Meng Qiran changed the subject very stiffly yet very unembarrassedly.

Chen Qingwu said nothing, unable to keep up with his emotions that changed as swiftly as the wind.

“Let’s go eat together.”

“…I’m not hungry yet.”

“You’ll be hungry when we get there.” Meng Qiran laughed helplessly. “Do me the honor, Miss Chen. I have to go back after eating. Lost my ID card—I might not even be able to get a hotel room tonight.”

“…Lost your ID card?”

“Discovered it was gone after leaving the train station.”

Chen Qingwu was startled. “Really?”

Meng Qiran unzipped his backpack. “If you don’t believe me, look.”

Chen Qingwu naturally didn’t actually go through his bag.

The two went out and casually ate a meal at the nearby university district.

After eating, Meng Qiran drove her back to the studio.

He didn’t go in, just stood at the entrance looking down at Chen Qingwu, his expression serious: “If you don’t like those gifts, just resell them. I’ll give you things you like in the future. The competition has just a few races left. After it ends, I’m planning to start a business in East City.”

Chen Qingwu’s heart skipped. “…You don’t need to give up what you love.”

“You’re more important than these things.”

Chen Qingwu was at a loss for words. “Qiran, I was serious about everything I said that day.”

“I know. But I’m also serious about what I said.” Meng Qiran checked the time on his phone. There was still some time needed to get from here to the high-speed rail station, so he said, “I’ll head back first, Wuwu. Wait until I finish this busy period and handle all the matters at hand, then I’ll come find you.”

Chen Qingwu was about to say something when Meng Qiran had already stepped back. “I’m going. Get some rest early.”

Having said this, he strode toward the park entrance.

Chen Qingwu turned to open the door. Her movement paused as she pushed, and she sighed.

If he had said these things even a month earlier, she would inevitably have wavered, but now she only felt the weariness of times having changed.

After this, Meng Qiran devoted himself wholeheartedly to the final competitions, but from time to time would send her text messages—for instance, the registration photo on his new ID card, the lunch set meal at the high-speed rail station, his newly upgraded and modified car…

Every detail, large and small, not caring whether she replied or not.

Just as she used to do.

This afternoon, Chen Qingwu was racking her brain over the studio’s name when someone came to visit.

Very rare indeed—it was actually Pei Shao.

Pei Shao carried a Louis Vuitton briefcase, paired with a somewhat overzealous formal outfit, looking like a useless young master carrying cash to make a life-or-death deal with underworld bosses.

Pei Shao smiled as he placed the briefcase on her work table. “Home delivery, Miss Chen please sign for receipt.”

“…Care to explain?”

“Oh. Entrusted to you by Meng Fuyuan.”

“He’s back in the country?”

“Came back, but didn’t return to East City. An investor in North City suddenly wanted to chat with us, so he flew there right after arriving at East City’s airport. He said the things in the case couldn’t keep being jostled around with him, or something would happen sooner or later. It’s safer to get them to Miss Chen’s hands early.”

This phrasing made Chen Qingwu a bit nervous. “…What exactly is inside?”

“Ceramics. I saw they’re wrapped very thickly, probably won’t break. But to be safe, you should open and check yourself. Meng Fuyuan said he packed them himself—not that professional—very worried they’d break, even took out insurance specifically.”

Chen Qingwu pressed the locks and opened the briefcase.

A complete set of five pieces in total, but wrapped up tightly—couldn’t see anything clearly.

Pei Shao took out his phone to check the time. “Have something tonight, so I’ll head off first, Miss Chen.”

Chen Qingwu thanked him. “Sorry to trouble you to make a trip.”

“No problem at all.” Pei Shao sauntered out casually, then as if remembering something, his footsteps stopped. “Oh, right, would it be convenient to add you on WeChat?”

Chen Qingwu took out her phone and opened her own QR code business card for him.

Pei Shao scanned and submitted the request. Chen Qingwu accepted.

Pei Shao immediately said, “Would it be convenient to forward your classmate’s WeChat to me?”

Chen Qingwu felt like a tool person and said with a laugh, “Sure. But she has a rather strange personality—can’t say for sure if she’ll accept or not.”

“No problem, just forward it to me.”

Pei Shao received the push notification of Zhao Yingfei’s contact card, thanked her, and only then left.

Chen Qingwu found a utility knife and began unpacking the items in the briefcase.

She cut through the hardboard wrapped in who-knows-how-many layers of transparent tape. Inside was bubble wrap. After removing the bubble wrap, there was still foam wrap, sponge, and silk cloth. Besides these, the interior was also stuffed with a ball of old newspaper.

All five pieces were packed like this, with a full five layers each.

She’d never found unpacking deliveries this annoying.

After all packing materials were completely removed, what was finally laid out on the desk was this oddly combined set of ceramics:

All five pieces were bowls, but the sizes, depths, styles, and foot ring heights were all different.

The porcelain body was extremely thin, with a greenish-white glaze. Held up to the light, it had the texture of semi-transparent jade.

The marking on the bottom of the bowls was the character “Ying” in iron-wire seal script.

An extremely beautiful set of ceramics with a very strong personal style—one glance revealed the ceramicist’s superb skill and outstanding aesthetic sense.

But Chen Qingwu, exhausting everything she knew, really couldn’t think of which ceramic artist with the character “Ying” in their name this style belonged to.

She picked up one of them, unable to put it down as she carefully admired it against the light.

Looking at its luster, looking at the bowl’s soft and rounded curve, and the foot ring without any connecting seams.

Such exquisite ceramics—fortunately there was no damage during transport, otherwise she would definitely be heartbroken…

Thinking of this, Chen Qingwu suddenly paused.

A sudden thought struck her.

Back when moving from the porcelain capital to East City, when packing things, she was most afraid of breaking those expensive, beautiful, yet fragile glass cups Meng Qiran had given her.

So she didn’t mind the trouble, wrapping layer after layer, and finally didn’t put them in the moving truck’s cargo area with other items. Instead, she placed them separately in a cardboard box and held them the entire way while sitting in the passenger seat.

That careful, extremely cherishing feeling—she shouldn’t be unfamiliar with it.

What kind of feelings would make someone go to such lengths to personally transport a set of fragile items thousands of miles without any breakage?

Once a certain possibility surfaced, it seemed all the subtle traces from the past could be connected.

The lighter, ordering pomegranate juice, buying allergy medicine, the flight upgrade, finding the studio and advancing funds, introducing her to her first order, fearing she’d fall from the ladder, hugging and comforting her when she cried, the pinky ring, showing great interest in her profession, taking her out for fresh air, going with her early in the morning to watch the kiln opening…

And driving four hours in the early morning to help her run away from home.

Also, knowing she liked freesias.

Also, that employee telling her decisively that President Meng only drank Wuli Green tea…

Chen Qingwu suddenly couldn’t sit still.

She wanted to use more details to deny this absurd conjecture, but those vaguely evasive gazes and breaths, those words that always seemed to pierce her heart—they instead seemed to further corroborate the conjecture.

Chen Qingwu, as if scalded, placed the porcelain bowl in her hand back on the table.

She found her cigarettes and lighter, lit one, and hastily took a few drags, trying to calm herself down.

It didn’t work.

She anxiously circled the studio once, then decisively grabbed her phone and sent Zhao Yingfei an “SOS.”

Zhao Yingfei: What’s wrong?!!!

Chen Qingwu: Are you busy? Can you come over?

Zhao Yingfei: Wait, coming right now.

In less than twenty minutes, Zhao Yingfei arrived.

Chen Qingwu was sitting on the steps at the entrance smoking. She looked up at the breathless Zhao Yingfei. “I’m done for…”

“Done for how? What exactly happened?”

“I… how should I say this?”

“Say it however you need to say it! Hurry up! Are you trying to drive me crazy!”

Chen Qingwu stood up, falling into consideration of how to word it. Only when Zhao Yingfei seemed so anxious she was about to hit her did she finally speak: “Do you have any elders or seniors you particularly respect? Upright character, exceptional ability—no matter what happens, you feel that with them around, everything’s stable.”

“Yes. My thesis advisor.”

Chen Qingwu opened her mouth. “…How old is your advisor?”

“Fifty-nine.”

“…” Chen Qingwu was somewhat speechless. “Anyone younger?”

“My senior classmate, I guess.”

“…Need a male.”

“There’s barely one, I suppose. What’s wrong?”

“Just suppose—you suddenly discover this man might like you. What would you do?”

“He has a family. That’s so disgusting.”

“…Miss Zhao, are you deliberately sabotaging me?”

Zhao Yingfei looked very innocent. “Can you just say it directly and stop making analogies?”

“I’m afraid saying it will scare you to death.”

Zhao Yingfei immediately became interested. “Say it quickly!”

Chen Qingwu opened her mouth and discovered she still couldn’t say it aloud, as if afraid of speaking it into existence—that voicing it would make it real.

“…Just suppose that elder with a family—he doesn’t have a family. Then you discover he might like you. What would you do?”

Zhao Yingfei was very disgusted with her roundabout way. “Just say there’s a senior you really respect who likes you and be done with it.”

“That depends on your own feelings. If you’re also interested, just be ambiguous with him. If not interested, then deliberately pull away, be a bit cold to him—over time they’ll probably get it.”

“…Wouldn’t that be not so good?”

Zhao Yingfei scratched her head in annoyance. “You’re asking the wrong person about relationship questions. I’d rather formulate ten more glaze recipes for you.”

“You said it?”

Following the principle of “since I’m already here,” Zhao Yingfei stayed. The two ordered barbecue takeout, sat on the sofa watching an episode of a variety show on the tablet, critiquing as they watched.

Zhao Yingfei took a sip of cola and suddenly said, “Speaking of Meng Qiran’s older brother…”

Chen Qingwu was startled. “What about him?”

“What’s with you? Why are you panicking?” Zhao Yingfei glanced at her. “Their company wants to hire me as a technical consultant and will pay consulting fees according to standard rates.”

“That’s pretty good.”

“It’s a bit high. So much money—I feel very insecure taking it.”

Chen Qingwu fell into thought.

Although she knew Meng Fuyuan had a businesslike personality, could it be that considering she was her friend, he appropriately increased the price?

After spacing out for a moment, she said, “They must think you’re worth that price to offer that much.”

Zhao Yingfei nodded. “Then I’ll consider it.”

After finishing the late-night snack, Zhao Yingfei left.

Chen Qingwu once again turned her attention to that set of ceramics.

She held them in her palms, marveling at their fragility, and even more at the favorable timing and human connections that allowed them to cross oceans to meet her.

Two days later.

Around seven in the evening, Chen Qingwu was trimming greenware when footsteps came from the doorway.

She was almost startled to realize that she could already distinguish whose footsteps they belonged to.

Looking up, the person entering was indeed Meng Fuyuan.

He wore a somewhat casual-style white shirt. Under the pale white lights, he was as clear and upright as a pine tree.

His gaze as it fell on her still seemed peaceful. “Have you eaten?”

“…Mm.” Chen Qingwu increasingly didn’t dare meet his eyes. “Your business trip ended?”

“Mm.” Meng Fuyuan nodded. “Did you receive the ceramics?”

“I did.”

“Any breakage?”

“None. Not a bit.”

Chen Qingwu put down the trimming knife in her hand, got up to wash her hands, and went to the display shelf to retrieve that set of ceramics.

Meng Fuyuan’s gaze followed her figure. She wore a gray T-shirt and denim skirt with an additional coffee-colored apron. Her hair was loosely pinned up, revealing a slender, beautiful neck.

The five ceramic pieces were arranged in a row on the work table.

Chen Qingwu said with a smile, “I checked a lot of materials but still don’t know their origin.”

Meng Fuyuan said, “They were made by a friend’s grandmother.”

Her grandmother’s name was Zhuang Shiying. At twenty years old, she moved overseas with her husband.

Zhuang Shiying had always been frail and sickly, needing to take Chinese medicine year-round.

Meng Fuyuan picked up the small bowl about six inches in size. “This is the bowl for drinking medicine.”

Chinese medicine was too bitter, so Zhuang Shiying fired this jade-colored porcelain bowl.

Such a precious bowl naturally held divine elixirs and immortal pills.

She entertained herself optimistically this way.

Later she successively fired several others.

One was for drinking hot milk—she could never get used to this Western thing, but there was no choice—everyone said milk was nutritious. Milky white milk in a greenish-white porcelain bowl—that color could only be described as jade nectar.

One was for eating vegetable salad—glass was too direct and uninteresting. Cherry tomatoes in a semi-transparent bowl had the artistic conception of spiritual realm celestial flora.

One was for eating noodles—spring noodles served in it were vibrantly alive; even immortals seeing it would want to descend to earth.

Chen Qingwu listened entranced. “Being friends with her must have been very joyful.”

“The old lady passed away the year before last. She only made ceramics for family and friends, so she left no name in the industry. The first time I saw this set of ceramics, I thought you would like them.”

Meng Fuyuan paused, looking down at her. “Do you like them?”

He was asking about the ceramics, yet it seemed to imply something else.

She had been frail and sickly since childhood, and so was Lady Zhuang Shiying.

How could she not understand the care Meng Fuyuan put into giving this set of ceramics?

Chen Qingwu’s eyelashes trembled slightly. In that instant, numerous emotions collapsed like a landslide.

Settling at last was actually the feeling of sadness.

How could he be so good to her?