When Cheng Wanyue looked over at Qing Hang, her light gaze wasn’t one of arrogance. Although she was the only girl in the Cheng family, raised with doting affection, Cheng Guo’an would never be overly indulgent with her on matters of principle.

She was spirited but not tyrannical, at most just showing some girlish coquettishness.

Just as Qing Hang hadn’t responded when Cheng Guo’an introduced them, saying it was their first meeting, now, when Cheng Wanyue openly called him impolite, he didn’t defend himself either.

Because this wasn’t his first time seeing her.

The first time he saw her was last summer, but clearly she didn’t remember.

Cheng Guo’an had gone to the countryside for poverty alleviation work, and she had tagged along to explore the town. While Cheng Guo’an attended to business, she wandered near the school on her own, bought a bottle of soda, and sat under a camphor tree, watching with interest as several seven or eight-year-old boys played marbles on the ground.

Grandpa had started collecting recyclables two years ago, and Qing Hang helped with the work during every school break.

When he was passing by the road in front of the small shop carrying a large bag of plastic bottles, he ran into two classmates. Middle school wasn’t divided by grades, so all types of students were in the same class.

These two boys were the type who always sat in the last row of the classroom. While teachers lectured at the podium, they would hide under their desks, eat instant noodles, play on their phones, or sleep. They didn’t take the teacher’s criticisms seriously, and even considered it quite an achievement when conflicts with certain teachers led to the whole class having self-study sessions. Afterward, they would brag to their brothers, disdainfully saying that a particular teacher wasn’t even as tall as them when standing up, and could be driven to tears after just a brief argument.

Qing Hang’s personality made him unsociable; these people wouldn’t even approach him to copy homework.

“Hey!”

The slightly chubby boy called out to him, throwing a beverage bottle at his feet. The unfinished cola splashed out onto his pant leg, leaving dark circular stains.

“Here are two more cans. They’re all yours, no need to thank us.”

It wasn’t kindness between classmates, but a reminder to Qing Hang that he should put down the bag on his shoulder, pick up the bottles with both hands, and then gratefully say thank you.

Even the seven and eight-year-old kids were watching the joke unfold.

“No need for thanks?” A pleasant voice came from behind.

Sweat dripped from his forehead into his eyes, and Qing Hang couldn’t see clearly. He only vaguely saw a fire-red figure sitting against the light under the tree.

“That won’t do. Such great kindness deserves proper thanks. A simple ‘thank you’ isn’t enough! On New Year’s Day, you must bathe, burn incense, slaughter pigs, stew chicken, set off firecrackers, and kowtow three times. Even at 88 years old, you’d still need to come leaning on a cane, otherwise, it would be a grave sin.”

A small chubby boy covered in dirt from rolling on the ground asked her while nodding his head, “Big sister, it’s not like someone died, why kowtow?”

Cheng Wanyue said seriously, “Throwing an unfinished drink bottle at someone and dirtying their clothes is an enormous kindness. It must be written into family rules and precepts, recited three times in the morning and memorized three times in the evening. Even kowtowing is too simple.”

The chubby boy refuted her, saying this behavior was impolite.

She finished the rest of her soda, smiling as she placed the bottle on the stone table. “Then what should be done? Teach me.”

The little chubby boy took the bottle and ran to Qing Hang, first asking if he needed it, and only after he nodded did he hand the bottle to him. This process took about a minute.

“Big sister, did you learn?”

Cheng Wanyue had a look of sudden realization. “So it’s that simple! I’ve learned. Thank you very much.”

Who wasn’t smart enough to hear the sarcasm in her words?

People who truly weren’t afraid of trouble wouldn’t write “dare to mess with me” on their faces. From beginning to end, she hadn’t even glanced at the two boys who deliberately embarrassed Qing Hang, nor at Qing Hang himself.

Only when leaving did she say this: “Throwing things at your back is like slapping your face. Laughing at you is like insulting you. Not hitting back when hit, not retorting when insulted—you don’t have any backbone at all.”

Qing Hang watched her depart with a carefree stride and found her words somewhat amusing as he recalled them.

How could a pampered young lady who had never tasted life’s hardships understand his situation?

Just as someone standing on the moon couldn’t understand why others would strive forward with all their might for an entire lifetime, when the moonlight didn’t even reach them.

Many years later, Qing Hang suddenly realized he had fallen in love with Cheng Wanyue at first sight.

How could he possibly dislike someone he loved at first glance?

No matter what she did, he would like her. This feeling hidden in his heart increased year after year, engraved into his bones like genes, melting into his blood.

How could he forget?

…

The freshly boiled water was steaming, and the cup didn’t insulate heat. After being warmed by the sunlight, even lightly touching it made Cheng Wanyue feel scalded.

She knew that after Qing Hang had been recommended for university, he had gone straight into a combined bachelor’s, master’s, and doctoral program, and after graduation, he’d entered a hospital. Even as a doctor in a peripheral department, his income couldn’t be too low.

The apartment wasn’t large and was somewhat old, just kept very clean. The sofa was probably the most expensive piece of furniture in the living room.

Cheng Wanyue sat at a distance, and only Qing Hang’s shadow was faintly reflected in the black screen of the television. The fair and delicate features of his youth had matured with time, his contours becoming more defined. Before helping her find the keys in Zhou Heng’s room, he had put on silver-framed glasses. He had monolids, and the glasses softened their sharpness.

This was his home, yet his posture wasn’t as relaxed and at ease as hers. His hands rested on his knees, and even though he was leaning back against the sofa, his body still appeared stiff.

She remembered there was a small brown mole on the inside of his left wrist, quite noticeable because of his fair skin. In the past, when he was explaining problems to her, she would always get distracted, playing with this or looking at that. She had even counted the whorls on his fingers countless times.

She couldn’t remember which year it was when a mole inexplicably appeared on the inside of her right wrist. She hadn’t even noticed it herself; it was Cheng Yanqing who discovered it.

It might appear silently, but it shouldn’t disappear without reason, right?

Cheng Wanyue wanted to see if the mole on his left wrist was still there, but his palms were facing downward, so she couldn’t tell.

“You’re Zhou Heng’s roommate. Did you go with him to drink on Academy South Road on June 15th?”

That night, her first reaction was that she had mistaken someone else for him. In such a big city, how could there be so many coincidences and chance encounters? She didn’t have time for a closer look before the person disappeared.

Qing Hang lowered his dark eyes and said flatly, “I didn’t go.”

“That day I saw someone who looked exactly like you,” she didn’t dwell on the topic. “How have you been these years?”

“Pretty good,” he fell silent for a moment, and then returned the courtesy by asking, “And you?”

“I’m doing fine, too. What could be wrong with me? I eat well, sleep well, play well—everything’s good.” Cheng Wanyue’s dress fabric wrinkled easily, so she shifted her legs to adjust her sitting position. “Which department are you in?”

“Neurosurgery.”

“Oh, that must be quite busy.”

“It depends on the timing; not every day is busy. Why did you come to Beijing?”

“For fun. Cheng Yanqing is coming to Beijing to work at a partner company for half a year, so I’m taking the opportunity to play for a while and keep him company.”

Before Cheng Wanyue could finish, she received a phone call and answered it.

Qing Hang sat quietly beside her, listening. It seemed to be from her friend, asking when she would return to Nanjing to watch a concert or some music festival. She said she couldn’t go back now, that she hadn’t finished her business, hadn’t found the answer, and wasn’t sure exactly when she would return.

After dealing with the caller in a few sentences, she hung up. “You just finished the night shift and need to rest. I should go back too.”

Qing Hang’s hands on his knees tightened as he looked up at the cup of hot water, still steaming. “…Won’t you finish your water?”

Cheng Wanyue stood up. “Never mind, it’s too hot, and I’m not that thirsty.”

Qing Hang pressed his lips together and followed her to the door. “I’ll see you out.”

“No need. I’ll just call a car when I get outside the complex,” Cheng Wanyue had to lean against the wall to change her shoes, as there was no chair at the entrance.

As she left, she helped close the door behind her, but the buckle on her high heels wasn’t fastened properly and came loose after a couple of steps. With her head down, replying to a message, she didn’t notice an oil slick in the corridor. As soon as she stepped on it, she slipped and fell.

“Ah! That hurts!”