Cheng Wanyue chose the hot pot restaurant. Although she had only been here for a little over a month, she was more familiar with these places for eating, drinking, and entertainment than Qing Hang, who had lived in Beijing for many years.

She first selected a half-spicy, half-mild broth, then slowly ordered the dishes.

In the past, they had eaten hot pot so many times at the Cheng family compound that they never needed to ask what the other liked or disliked. But back then, there were many people crowded around a small table, sometimes accidentally poking the person next to them when reaching for food.

She looked at the menu with indecision. “I want to eat everything, but we can’t finish it all if we order too much.”

“If we can’t finish, we’ll take it home,” Qing Hang poured herself a glass of water and placed it beside her hand. “Order whatever you want. I’ll go prepare the dipping sauce.”

Cheng Wanyue had eaten too blandly this week. The aroma of the beef tallow hot pot made her especially hungry, so she ordered half portions of everything she wanted. Before the pot came to a boil, she started with some fruit.

“You’ve been quite busy lately, haven’t you?”

There was a glass ornament on the table that vaguely reflected her image. She still wore those three earrings, but now had two rings on her left hand—one on her ring finger and one on her index finger. Her hair was the same as when they last met, though it looked more blue-tinted under the indoor lighting.

“It’s fine, I’m used to it. Qing Hang had spent these years either at the laboratory or the hospital. “You should go for a follow-up examination for your foot.”

“It’s such a hassle to see a doctor in Beijing. Even getting an appointment is troublesome.” Cheng Wanyue had only worn the medicated patch for three days before she could hop and jump again. She held a small tangerine and casually asked, “Are you free on the 18th?”

Qing Hang said, “Not sure yet. We work on a weekly schedule.”

Today was only the 2nd.

“Oh,” she didn’t ask further. “Is the shrimp paste cooked yet?”

“Wait a bit longer. When it floats up, it’s ready. Try the beef rolls first.”

Cheng Wanyue was facing the main entrance. She had just taken a bite of a beef ball when she saw two people walk in. She didn’t recognize the woman in front, but she knew Zhou Heng, who was behind her.

“Wanyue!” Zhou Heng walked over to greet her. “What a coincidence, you’re having hot pot here too.”

Cheng Wanyue smiled. “Yes, quite a coincidence.”

They had just started eating.

Zhou Heng had one hand on the corner of the table. After chatting with Cheng Wanyue for a few sentences, he remembered Xu Qian, whom he had left at the entrance. He turned his head and only then noticed Qing Hang sitting across from Cheng Wanyue.

“Qing Hang?” He was visibly stunned for a few seconds, his eyes filled with surprise. “How do you two know each other?”

Cheng Wanyue said, “Last time when I went to get the key, I entered the wrong room.”

Zhou Heng had no time that day. A doctor leaving their post during working hours without a reason was a serious violation. If a patient complained, not only would there be disciplinary action, but it would also be announced to the entire hospital on the internal network.

“Didn’t I tell you it was the room on the left as you enter? I even emphasized it twice.”

Qing Hang said, “She can’t tell left from right.”

“It’s my fault for not being clear,” Zhou Heng called Xu Qian over. “We’re all acquainted. Let’s share the table, the four of us. It’ll be livelier eating together.”

This table was just right for four people.

Qing Hang looked at Cheng Wanyue, and Cheng Wanyue looked back at him.

“Sure.” No need for takeout now.

Zhou Heng and Qing Hang sat on one side, while Xu Qian and Cheng Wanyue sat on the other. They ordered a few more dishes. Xu Qian was the type who couldn’t hide her emotions; her face clearly showed her displeasure. Qing Hang was taciturn, naturally a man of few words. Most of the time at the table, it was Cheng Wanyue and Zhou Heng chatting. Zhou Heng was quite witty and knew how to engage with girls. Xu Qian would occasionally interject.

“I heard from Zhou Heng that we’re the same age and should be in the same grade. How come you just graduated this year?”

The server brought several bottles of drinks. Qing Hang felt for the one at room temperature and was about to swap it with the cold one in front of Cheng Wanyue when he heard Xu Qian’s question, and his hand froze.

Cheng Wanyue didn’t mind Xu Qian’s slight malice. She smiled, her tone relaxed. “I did poorly in school and failed the entrance exam, so I had to repeat the year.”

“That must have been several years of retaking, right?” Xu Qian looked surprised. “Academic success depends on natural talent, but you’re so beautiful. I guess heaven is fair after all.”

“Alright, alright,” Zhou Heng stopped her with a look. “Didn’t you say you wanted the lamb rolls? Hurry and get them, or the meat will be overcooked.”

He opened a bottle of cold beer, first pouring a glass for Qing Hang, then attentively serving food for Cheng Wanyue.

Qing Hang suddenly spoke up, “She doesn’t eat lamb.”

“These lamb rolls don’t have a gamey taste.” Zhou Heng’s chopsticks with the lamb hadn’t yet reached Cheng Wanyue’s bowl. “You don’t like lamb?”

Cheng Wanyue shook her head. “No, I don’t.”

“Then I’ll eat it,” Zhou Heng ate it himself and started coughing from the spicy red oil. He raised his glass to clink with Qing Hang’s. “How did you know Wanyue doesn’t eat lamb? Just from getting a key once, you’re already that familiar?”

Cheng Wanyue was full. This time she didn’t help explain, but just rested her chin on her hand, smiling as she watched Qing Hang.

Qing Hang remained composed. “Look at her plate.”

Zhou Heng wasn’t observant enough, or he would have noticed that when Cheng Wanyue picked up beef balls earlier, she had accidentally picked up a piece of lamb, which she set aside on her plate without eating.

“You two complement each other well. What Wanyue doesn’t eat, Qing Hang does. You’re suited to share meals,” Zhou Heng joked. “I should have introduced you two earlier. Last time I brought him to eat at my sister’s place, but he left halfway through.”

Cheng Wanyue became interested. “When was that?”

Zhou Heng said, “Last month, the evening of June 15th.”

That night, after drinking, he had a big argument with Xu Qian over a small matter. It took him a long time to make up with her. He remembered it clearly and couldn’t forget.

“Oh…” She nodded slowly, dragging out the last syllable. “June 15th…”

Qing Hang suddenly stood up. “I’m going to the restroom.”

“Wait,” Zhou Heng had food in his mouth and was a bit unclear. He was sitting on the outside, blocking the way, and needed to finish his bite before letting Qing Hang out.

During these thirty seconds, Qing Hang stood there awkwardly. Cheng Wanyue couldn’t help but smile. Though she didn’t laugh out loud, her eyes were full of amusement.

Xu Qian looked at Qing Hang, then at Cheng Wanyue, her gaze moving back and forth between them, thoughtfully.

A woman’s sixth sense can be nonsensical at times, but sometimes it’s incredibly sharp and accurate up to 99%. You have to admit that.

Xu Qian had originally planned to decline her friend’s gathering. She deleted the words “not going” and replied again: Will be there in half an hour.

“You two take your time. I have something to do, so I’ll leave first,” Xu Qian touched up her lipstick and, picking up her bag, turned back to smile at Cheng Wanyue before leaving. “Wanyue, your hair color and earrings suit you very well. Next time, when you go to the salon to touch up your hair color, shall we go together? I also want to cut my hair short.”

Cheng Wanyue felt that Xu Qian’s attitude toward her had become much friendlier. The comment “your hair color and earrings suit you well” was more sincere than the earlier “you’re so beautiful.”

“Sure, have Zhou Heng send me your WeChat.”

“We’ll arrange it later.”

“Mm.”

…

Qing Hang took quite a while in the restroom. By the time he returned, Zhou Heng had also finished eating.

Zhou Heng asked, “Should we order two more plates of beef rolls?”

Qing Hang looked at Cheng Wanyue. “Full?”

Cheng Wanyue nodded. “Mm, if I eat any more, I won’t be able to walk.”

“Alright, we’ve pretty much finished everything. Not a bit wasted,” Zhou Heng took out his phone to scan the code. “You two go ahead, I’ll pay.”

“It’s already paid for.” Qing Hang picked up the paper bag from the chair and inconspicuously pushed something silver under a plate.

“That was quick.” Zhou Heng walked out alongside Qing Hang, lowering his voice as if joking, “I finally had a chance to treat her to a meal, and you didn’t even give me that opportunity.”

Qing Hang said quietly, “I brought her here first.”

Zhou Heng didn’t hear what Qing Hang said. Walking out of the hot pot restaurant, he slowed his pace to walk beside Cheng Wanyue. “Wanyue, shall I get a taxi to take you home, or do you want to take a stroll around here?”

The wave of hot air made Cheng Wanyue sigh. After Zhou Heng came to her side, Qing Hang was pushed to the outside.

“I live nearby. I’d like to walk back.”

“Walking is good. Take a hundred steps after a meal, and you’ll live to ninety-nine.”

When they were almost at Cheng Wanyue’s building, Zhou Heng finally noticed the paper bag in Qing Hang’s hand. “What did you buy?”

“Nothing,” Qing Hang inconspicuously hid it behind his back. “Can I borrow your lighter?”

“Want to smoke?” Zhou Heng was puzzled about what was going on with Qing Hang and why he suddenly had a craving for cigarettes. But when he couldn’t find his lighter after checking both pockets, his heart suddenly tightened. “Oh no, I might have left it at the restaurant.”

Qing Hang said, “I remember that was a birthday gift from Xu Qian. You’d better go back and find it.”

Zhou Heng was worried the lighter had been taken by someone. His gaze toward Cheng Wanyue was full of apology. “Wanyue, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Cheng Wanyue pointed to the intersection. “I live just ahead. We’re almost there.”

Zhou Heng turned back, walking quickly for a while before breaking into a run, leaving Qing Hang and Cheng Wanyue standing by a streetlight.

Someone rode a shared bicycle past them on the road, and students fresh out of class laughed and joked in groups.

Not far away was a flower shop playing music.

“Love isn’t just about roses, but also the punishment of insecurity…”

Cheng Wanyue kept her hands behind her back, two fingers lightly swinging the chain of her white handbag. She casually stepped on the leaves at her feet.

She looked at the leaves, while Qing Hang looked at the thin heels of her high shoes.

It felt like she would twist her ankle at any moment, but then she would steady herself again.

“Find time for a follow-up visit next week. I’ll help you make an appointment.”

“We’ll see,” Cheng Wanyue’s attitude was dismissive. When Qing Hang wasn’t prepared, she suddenly raised her head and looked straight at him. “Qing Hang, when did you learn to smoke?”

She wasn’t angry.

Nor was she surprised.

Just like the first time she discovered his humble fantasy hidden in his heart: Oh, so even the good student has puppy love?

That time Qing Hang hadn’t answered, and this time he remained silent as well.

“I hate the smell of smoke, you know,” Cheng Wanyue took a step closer to him. The sound of her high heels on the ground was very light, as if she wanted to check if he smelled of cigarettes. “Why did you deny seeing me on June 15th?”

Qing Hang stood still. “Why did you repeat a year?”

In the year of the college entrance exam, she had passed the cutoff line.

Cheng Wanyue tilted her head. “I asked first. You answer my question first.”

That night, that casual glance—Qing Hang was frozen in place, as if those stolen distant times had returned him to that remote small county town: the muddy rain, the sultry evening, the crowded corridor, the noisy classroom, the alley that always dripped water—all came to light again in his sealed memories.

He even forgot how he finally got back to the hospital that night, with a large patch of black mud on his trouser leg. When a colleague asked what happened, he had no recollection at all.

The streetlight was dim, and Qing Hang’s eyes were immersed in shadow. His hoarse voice was barely audible. “You said ‘I’d rather not.'”

She had said it twice.

“‘I’d rather not’ means you didn’t want to see me.”

Cheng Wanyue looked somewhat dazed, murmuring, “Was that what it meant…”

She recalled that winter when she called Cheng Yanqing, who was still studying in Beijing, from her hospital room in Nanjing.

“Long time no see, Qing Hang. I’m sick. Won’t you come with Cheng Yanqing to visit me?”

“I’d rather not.”

Cheng Wanyue laughed softly. “I’m a little angry.”

“But…” she stepped forward, so close yet not smelling any cigarette smoke on him, “I also kind of want to kiss you.”

She rose on her tiptoes and kissed the corner of his lips.

Before her heels touched the ground, Qing Hang forcefully pushed her to the inner side of the sidewalk. She stumbled two steps, her back against the wall. Before she could steady herself, his passionate kiss descended.

His kissing technique was something she had taught him—the angle, the pressure, all according to her preference. Their mouths shared the same lemon candy taste. Their bodies, hidden in darkness at the corner, became entangled and melted together.

Hearing her triumphant, soft laugh, his grip on her waist tightened, and his kiss took on a hint of fierceness.

Just like their last argument before separating, neither would admit defeat, both stubborn with themselves and with each other.

Cheng Wanyue’s nose bridge was bumped by Qing Hang’s glasses. The pain and a sense of suffocation surged simultaneously, so she kicked him lightly.

Zhou Heng’s running footsteps were distinct on the street, but no one paid attention.

“Wanyue,” Zhou Heng was breathing heavily from running. “Qing Hang.”

The two people who had been entangled just a second ago vaguely heard Zhou Heng calling their names and abruptly separated.