Lin Yiran didn’t want to cry in front of Qiu Xing, so she kept her back turned to him, not facing around. Her eyes were red; she wanted to thank Qiu Xing but simultaneously found the moment extremely absurd.

She never doubted Qiu Xing’s kindness toward her. His goodness was unquestionable, just like now—he always silently did things that made one want to cry.

Yet he was unwilling to be with her. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t change his mind.

The current state between them seemed hazy in this moment, even somewhat ridiculous.

“Thank you,” Lin Yiran said, wiping away her tears as she stood up.

Qiu Xing didn’t respond to her thanks, nor did he look at her.

Lin Yiran got a bottle of water for Qiu Xing, opened it, and handed it to him to drink. Qiu Xing took it and tilted his head back for a sip. Lin Yiran stood in front of him, looking down at him.

Qiu Xing’s chiseled face, once it wore that cold expression, became very misleading. Lin Yiran had once been a little afraid of him because of this constant appearance, thinking he had no patience and a bad temper. Later, Lin Yiran was no longer afraid of Qiu Xing, regardless of how he looked.

Now, looking at his cool eyes, high, straight nose, and resolute chin, she only felt extreme familiarity.

In the small room, neither spoke as they sat in silence together. Qiu Xing sat on the chair, Lin Yiran on the edge of the bed.

Without signal, there was no point in checking her phone. Without even something to fiddle with in her hands, they could only sit.

Lin Yiran, supporting herself with her hands on the edge of the bed, said, “Don’t leave today.”

Before Qiu Xing could look at her, she added, “It’s not safe.”

Qiu Xing said, “Let’s see when the rain stops.”

“Even when it stops, it’ll be slippery. The village hasn’t allowed anyone down the mountain these past few days,” Lin Yiran said.

Qiu Xing didn’t say whether he would still leave. He asked Lin Yiran, “How long do you plan to stay?”

Lin Yiran answered, “Until before the New Year. I’ll leave when they go on vacation.”

Qiu Xing nodded and said nothing more.

The rain outside showed no sign of stopping. Even if Qiu Xing wanted to leave, he couldn’t. He could only stay overnight.

During a few minutes when the rain lessened, the students from the same village returned home, while the remaining few needed to stay at the school for the night. In the evening, the principal stir-fried a dish of greens and a dish with meat, and everyone ate at the school.

Lin Yiran went to borrow slippers from the principal, who gave her a new pair. Qiu Xing, wearing the slippers, went out to greet everyone. Senior Xiao Xu looked at Lin Yiran with suggestive eyes and asked who this was.

Lin Yiran didn’t know how to explain. She glanced at Qiu Xing, who said, “Friend.”

“This is Qiu Xing, my… friend,” Lin Yiran said with a smile.

“Oh? Friend, huh…” Senior Xiao Xu had an “I understand everything” expression and said to Qiu Xing, “Welcome!”

Lin Yiran had never applied the word “friend” to her and Qiu Xing before. It felt unnatural now and subtly ironic.

The few children staying overnight had their eyes glued to Qiu Xing during dinner, with obvious curiosity and scrutiny.

The principal was a very simple person who felt somewhat embarrassed about not being able to properly host Qiu Xing. Both Qiu Xing and Lin Yiran reassured him, with Qiu Xing saying that he was the one causing trouble by coming.

“Why did you come?” An eleven-year-old girl was quite bold in asking Qiu Xing.

Lin Yiran answered for him: “He couldn’t contact me and was a bit worried, so he came to check.”

“Are you Teacher Little Boat’s boyfriend?” The girl looked at Qiu Xing and asked again.

Several children laughed, staring at Qiu Xing and their Teacher, Little Boat.

Qiu Xing lowered his eyes and said, “No.”

Lin Yiran smiled a little and also said, “No.”

Without electricity at night, lighting depended on candles and flashlights. Lin Yiran lit two candles in the room, giving off a dim light. Qiu Xing had filled a basin with water and sat on a low stool, scrubbing his shoes.

Lin Yiran prepared the bedding and secured the mosquito net.

“Do you want to wash your clothes?” Lin Yiran asked.

Qiu Xing said, “They probably won’t dry by tomorrow.”

If shoes weren’t dry, he could wear slippers, but he couldn’t go around naked if his clothes weren’t dry. Lin Yiran didn’t respond but came over after a while and handed Qiu Xing a piece of clothing.

Qiu Xing looked at the clothing, then lifted his head to look at Lin Yiran.

“I’m used to wearing it,” Lin Yiran pressed her lips together and said, “And it’s convenient.”

Qiu Xing made an “mm” sound, took his T-shirt with the back of his hand, laid it on his leg, and turned back to continue scrubbing his shoes.

“Does your phone still have power?” Lin Yiran asked him again.

“Half left,” Qiu Xing said.

“Then if you go to the bathroom at night, use your phone as a flashlight. Blow out the candles before you sleep, don’t start a fire.” Lin Yiran confirmed once more, “You won’t forget, right?”

Qiu Xing answered, “I won’t.”

Qiu Xing was brave, always looking like he feared nothing in heaven or earth. He had navigated society for so many years; Old Lin had once said he’d never seen Qiu Xing afraid of anything.

Only Lin Yiran knew that Qiu Xing wasn’t fearless about everything.

Qiu Xing was afraid of fire, though not to an extreme degree. If there was a fire source nearby, he would always keep an eye on it. Like when Old Lin was making a fire to roast lamb, Qiu Xing would never get too close, only approaching when there was no open flame.

Qiu Xing had never mentioned it; Lin Yiran had observed it herself during their six years of closeness.

If a candle caught fire, Qiu Xing definitely wouldn’t sleep soundly. Compared to the complete darkness of the mountains, a lit candle would make Qiu Xing feel less secure.

Lin Yiran prepared to leave. Before going, Qiu Xing asked her, “Where will you sleep?”

“I’ll sleep with my senior,” Lin Yiran said, “I’ve already spoken with her.”

Qiu Xing made another “mm” sound.

Before opening the door, Lin Yiran looked back. Qiu Xing sat alone in the dim room, the faint candlelight barely reaching him, making the scene look a bit lonely.

Lin Yiran looked at him for a few seconds but still opened the door and left.

*

A 1.2-meter single bed was somewhat cramped, even for two women.

The senior seemed very happy to have Lin Yiran spend the night with her, and they chatted for quite a while. The senior was a very cheerful person who talked about wide-ranging topics—her parents, her boyfriend, and many of the students here.

The senior asked Lin Yiran if Qiu Xing was pursuing her, saying he looked handsome and reliable.

Lin Yiran, who had been slightly distracted during the conversation, smiled and shook her head: “It’s not like that.”

“You two aren’t simple. Would normal relationships have those kinds of looks?” The senior spoke like someone experienced, “It would be strange if there wasn’t something between you.”

Lin Yiran thought self-mockingly, there was indeed something before, but not anymore.

That night, Lin Yiran didn’t sleep soundly.

She wasn’t used to sharing a bed with others. After her mother died, she had only slept with Qiu Xing. She lay on her side all night, afraid of crowding her senior.

At the first light of dawn, Lin Yiran got up. She went behind the house to wash up. When she returned to her room door, she instinctively stopped.

She hesitated for a moment, then gently pushed the door open.

Almost the instant she walked in, Qiu Xing opened his eyes. The mosquito net she had carefully tucked in last night wasn’t lowered, so Lin Yiran directly made eye contact with Qiu Xing.

She hadn’t expected Qiu Xing to be awake and was slightly startled.

Qiu Xing seemed not fully awake, his gaze not completely clear, with a kind of just-woken haziness. He stared at Lin Yiran blankly, perhaps awake, perhaps still asleep.

Lin Yiran gently placed her toothbrush cup on the windowsill. Since she had come in, she needed a reason, so she decided to get her skincare products from the table.

The table was right next to the bed, making it appear as if she were walking toward Qiu Xing.

Qiu Xing had just opened his eyes, his expression very calm. As Lin Yiran approached, his action preceded his consciousness as he withdrew the arm draped over the edge of the bed.

As if making space for her.

In the past, when Lin Yiran got up at night or went somewhere and came back, Qiu Xing would make room for her like this, then hold her after she lay back down.

Lin Yiran saw this but ignored his movement, standing by the table to apply face cream.

Qiu Xing also came to his senses. He turned to lie flat, raising the arm he had just withdrawn to cover his forehead.

Once Qiu Xing was fully awake, that subtle tugging feeling between them disappeared.

Qiu Xing resumed his neither cold nor warm demeanor, and Lin Yiran didn’t speak much to him either. The two were both familiar and distant from each other, both separated by a layer.

Although they hadn’t officially been lovers, the end of their relationship wasn’t much different from a breakup.

Two people who hadn’t parted peacefully naturally couldn’t quickly put aside all grievances. The emotions in Lin Yiran’s heart hadn’t dissipated; she wasn’t as magnanimous as before.

Whenever she thought about her separation from Qiu Xing, about the rings he had pushed away, Lin Yiran would still feel sad.

The weather hadn’t cleared yet, it could rain again at any time, and Qiu Xing’s shoes weren’t dry—he couldn’t leave yet.

Lin Yiran asked him, “Do you have any urgent matters?”

“No,” Qiu Xing said.

“Then don’t leave today,” Lin Yiran said.

Qiu Xing didn’t respond to her words but suddenly asked, “What happened to your leg?”

“Where?” Lin Yiran didn’t understand what he meant and looked down.

Qiu Xing pointed to her left leg.

Lin Yiran was wearing loose, thin, casual pants. Sometimes, the pant leg would lift up a bit with movement. Lin Yiran pulled her pant leg up a bit, exposing her calf. Qiu Xing frowned.

Lin Yiran’s fair calf was covered with dark marks left by mosquito bites of varying depths. One bite from just two days ago was still red and swollen, looking alarming.

“I ran out of mosquito repellent, and my senior doesn’t have any either. We haven’t gone down to buy more,” Lin Yiran explained, lowering her pant leg.

“Bitten this badly?” Qiu Xing asked.

“There are too many mosquitoes in the mountains. You have to spray repellent constantly for it to be effective,” Lin Yiran said helplessly. “I’m always wearing long pants, but they still bite through them.”

“Did you scratch them?” Qiu Xing asked her again.

“No, they’re just this big. I didn’t touch them,” Lin Yiran said.

This topic should have been over, and Lin Yiran was organizing the things Qiu Xing had brought up yesterday.

Qiu Xing leaned against a wall, standing and watching her organize.

In their current state, they normally wouldn’t say much more.

However, after standing for a while, Qiu Xing suddenly asked, “The Ph.D. doesn’t bring you mosquito repellent?”

Lin Yiran raised her head in surprise to look at him: “What Ph.D.?”

Qiu Xing raised his eyebrows slightly but didn’t answer.

Lin Yiran thought for a moment before understanding what Qiu Xing meant.

Emotions surged, countless words piled at the tip of her tongue, not knowing what to say.

Lin Yiran wanted to directly say “What Ph.D. are you talking about,” or deliberately say “The Ph.D. is busy, I can’t bear to have him deliver it.” The rapidly rising astonishment, anger, grievance, and other emotions were stuck in her heart, urgently needing an outlet.

But she didn’t know how to argue, feeling utterly helpless. She just squatted there, looking up at Qiu Xing, her eyes slowly turning red.

“I misspoke. I didn’t mean to provoke you with ‘Ph.D.,’ I didn’t mean to say it…” Lin Yiran began with a choked voice, but she looked at Qiu Xing resentfully. “I’ve never cared about any Ph.D. If we break up, we break up. If we separate, we separate. Stop saying these things to me.”

She didn’t give Qiu Xing a chance to speak and continued in a rather fierce tone: “Besides you, who else cares about me? Forget a few days without contact—even a month without contact, possibly no one would notice. If I really—”

“Lin Yiran,” Qiu Xing interrupted her with furrowed brows, not letting her finish.

Lin Yiran’s breathing was heavy as she said to Qiu Xing: “If you don’t want to care about me, fine, but don’t push me elsewhere.”