The cemetery was halfway up Siming Mountain in the northern part of the city. The taxi could drive to the cemetery entrance, but once inside, they still had to walk a stretch of uphill road.

Cheng Lele took two steps, and Chen An noticed something was wrong. He asked her what was the matter.

Cheng Lele said: “My foot hurts a bit.”

Chen An crouched down, rolled up her pant leg, and saw a medicated patch on Cheng Lele’s foot. He asked: “How did this happen?”

“I fell.”

“Where did you fall?”

“At the courtyard entrance. The road was slippery from the snow.”

Chen An turned around and said: “Get on, I’ll carry you up.”

Cheng Lele didn’t stand on ceremony—her foot really hurt. She pressed against Chen An’s back, wrapping both hands around his neck. After walking a short distance, Cheng Lele said: “When I was little, Dad carried me like this too.”

“Godfather carried me too.”

“Really?” Cheng Lele shifted. “How come I didn’t know?”

“Godfather and I had tons of secrets. Godfather took me to the bathhouse, and he also sold your keyboard and secretly bought me a Transformer with the money.”

“I knew he favored sons over daughters.”

“Your keyboard playing was pure noise pollution. Godfather was a community police officer—could he let others complain to our doorstep? Besides, Godfather wanted to buy the Transformer for himself. He came to my house to play with it for several days before he was willing to let me play.”

“What else don’t I know? I want to hear it all.” Cheng Lele looked at the surrounding green pines and cypresses and said, “Lately I keep being unable to remember things about Dad. It’s like whenever I think of him, there’s only that one image of him sitting at the dining table wolfing down and slurping noodles.”

“It’s okay, I remember everything. I’ll tell you slowly later.”

The two arrived at the grave. The person in the photo wore military uniform, looking serious and solemn.

Chen An set Cheng Lele down, then knelt and kowtowed three times: “Godfather, I came too late.”

Cheng Lele wiped her tears and said: “Dad, An’an is here. Are you happier to see him than to see me? So biased.”

The two stood before the grave for a long time.

When it was time to go back, Cheng Lele turned around to gaze into the distance.

The terrain here was high with a very open view, naturally making one feel more enlightened. She buried the rift between Wang Liting and Ye Xiaomei deep in her memory, and also cast behind her Ye Xiaomei’s warning that “we’re ultimately two separate families.”

Ye Xiaomei no longer had Cheng Dong to dote on her, but Cheng Lele still had Chen An to protect her. She naturally should be a bit stronger than her mother.

The damp, cold wind blew past, carrying away the gloom at the bottom of Cheng Lele’s heart.

Coming down the mountain, the two headed straight to the hospital. Her foot was a bit swollen again, but fortunately after a thorough examination, the problem wasn’t serious.

“Not bad, didn’t cry.” Chen An brushed her sweat-dampened bangs to the side of her forehead.

“I’ve grown up. What would it look like to be crying and wailing?” Cheng Lele said.

Chen An patted her head: “Adults are the cowards, only daring to hide and cry in secret.”

Sitting in the car, Cheng Lele suddenly remembered the cycling appointment. Opening her phone, she hurriedly notified: Everyone, can’t go cycling, sprained my ankle.

Chen An asked: “What’s wrong?”

While typing, Cheng Lele said: “I’d originally arranged to go cycling with Xiaomei and Zhong Ming.”

At this point, she paused. It seemed that before, they’d been in a cold war over Zhong Ming…

It felt like something from the distant past, with a sense of seas turning into mulberry fields.

Chen An said: “If you want to hang out with them, don’t go cycling. Go see a movie with them instead—just don’t move your leg much.”

“Really?”

Chen An looked at Cheng Lele’s pointed chin: “As long as you’re happy. By the way, that Zhong Ming is from Z University?”

Cheng Lele nodded vigorously.

“Give me his contact information. I happen to want to ask him about something.”

Cheng Lele looked at him warily, afraid little brother would retaliate: “What thing?”

Chen An spun his phone and said: “Ask if he knows anyone in the admissions office. I want to ask what their recommendation admission policy is like. I couldn’t find it online.”

Cheng Lele was shocked: “Did you not do well this time? Can’t get into Tsinghua or Peking University?”

Chen An said indifferently: “I did very well. But Z University has a very excellent finance professor. I think Z University is also a very good choice.”

“The principal will cry himself to death. He’s counting on you to bring glory to our school.”

“This matter isn’t urgent. The results haven’t come out yet.”

Cheng Lele didn’t dwell on this issue, casually listening before turning the page.