The peak tourist season crowd worked in their favor—that outburst from Hu Ke’er was swallowed up in the surrounding chatter and noise. As she pushed through toward them with that characteristically prying, curious expression on her face, Ning Sui caught her eye in time and gave her a quiet look of warning.

Hu Ke’er raised an eyebrow inwardly. I knew something was going on. You’re giving me the full story later.

The group queued up for the cable car—open-frame long-bench seats, legs dangling in the air. Hu Ke’er grabbed Ning Sui’s arm. “Let’s go together! The boys can pair up on their own.”

Once they were on the cable car, at a safe distance from the others in front and behind, Hu Ke’er seized the moment with intent, saying meaningfully, “I just saw you hand Xie Yichen some water.”

Ning Sui said, “His bag couldn’t fit everything, so I was just holding some things.”

Hu Ke’er, with the expression of someone who sees through everything: “His bag couldn’t fit, because it had your bag stuffed inside it, right?”

Her gossip instincts were sharper than usual today. She didn’t give Ning Sui a chance to deny it—who had no choice but to nod honestly. “Mm.”

“What the—!” Hu Ke’er, the moment she caught a scent of anything interesting, turned electric with excitement. “What’s going on between you and Xie Yichen?!”

Honestly, Hu Ke’er wasn’t sure quite what to guess. Xie Yichen was in a category she wouldn’t dare aspire to herself—and yet her Ning Sui was no ordinary person either.

Hu Ke’er had genuinely witnessed her turn down a whole string of admirers, her heart steady as a rock for all eighteen years, never having bloomed for anyone. They’d barely known each other for a day—if there was something going on, that really would be something.

“Nothing.” Ning Sui thought for a moment and said naturally, “I was having a bit of altitude sickness earlier, so I asked him to carry my bag for me. He’s quite gentlemanly about that sort of thing.”

Hu Ke’er thought that made sense, and her expression evened out. She’d been about to change the subject, but still couldn’t help asking with some spirit: “So do you have any feelings for him?”

Xie Yichen and Zhang Yuge were sitting in the cable car ahead of them. The person on the left was sprawled in a leisurely posture, one toned, long arm bent and propped along the back of the seat—but his other hand still held the backpack securely, as if worried it might tumble through the open air.

Ning Sui glanced ahead first, and then, after a moment, said, “A little favorable impression, I suppose. He’s quite handsome.”

Hu Ke’er nodded in wholehearted agreement. “Same. This trip has been truly worth it. I already thought having Shen Qing around was enough to feast your eyes on, and then we go and run into Xie Yichen’s group on top of that. Zhang Yuge said there are several other guys in their group too—imagine if they all gathered in one place, that would be quite the lively scene.”

In truth, she was secretly wondering whether there were any more handsome ones in that group. Preferably all as impressively good-looking as Xie Yichen—something to truly enjoy looking at.

Hu Ke’er was already off in her own imagination. Ning Sui gently reminded her, “Xu Zhou is right behind us.”

One sentence brought Hu Ke’er back to earth. There was no greater suffering in life than this—you could look but not touch. She sighed and, with full self-awareness, changed the subject. “What are you doing tonight? I’m exhausted—I just want to lie down.”

Ning Sui: “Not sure yet. Let’s see how everyone’s energy holds up.”

Coming down from the Zhonghe cable car, they finally made it to the base of the mountain after all their trials and tribulations.

Ning Sui brought up the idea of going to dinner together that evening. Shen Qing had no objection. Xu Zhou, surprisingly, agreed readily. Zhang Yuge, who was so hungry he felt like his stomach was pressed against his spine, was practically champing at the bit.

After some deliberation, they settled on the stone slab barbecue restaurant Shen Qing had been looking at earlier. Xie Yichen and Zhang Yuge had driven an SUV over, so they could take one or two people; the rest would hail a taxi for now.

Xu Zhou and Hu Ke’er would naturally stay together, and leaving Shen Qing and Ning Sui alone in a cab didn’t seem quite right, so they ended up putting those two in the SUV.

Xie Yichen loaded his backpack into the back of the car. Zhang Yuge picked it up on a whim and made a sound. “What have you got in here? This thing is heavy.”

It was peak season, and getting a ride in Dali took a bit of waiting. Hu Ke’er happened to be luckier than most—a driver had just canceled on someone else, and she lucked into the freed-up spot, getting picked up quickly.

Ning Sui was sitting in the back-right seat of the SUV, watching Xie Yichen in the driver’s seat unhurriedly set up the navigation. She was curious. “Do you have your driver’s license already?”

“Mm, just got it.”

Ning Sui paused. “When did you get it?”

Xie Yichen: “I took the written exam during winter break. Finished the rest of the three sections after the college entrance exams.”

Ning Sui’s own birthday was at the tail end of winter break. She’d turned eighteen just as the new semester was starting, and with third year being as busy as it was—papers piling up relentlessly—she’d had absolutely no time to study for a license. The idea that Xie Yichen had somehow managed to fit driving lessons in among all of that seemed genuinely unfathomable to her. “Your birthday is that early in the year?”

Xie Yichen paused for a brief moment.

The car pulled smoothly out of the scenic area and onto the road; the taxi behind them followed along. Zhang Yuge inserted himself into the conversation with a meaningful air. “Guess what sign he is.”

Ning Sui played along. “I have no idea. What?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Zhang Yuge said. “Sagittarius. The constellation with the highest concentration of scoundrels.”

Xie Yichen was driving. He shot a cool sideways look at Zhang Yuge that said he couldn’t be bothered to respond.

Ning Sui thought back through the dates. “You’re in December?”

Xie Yichen: “Mm. December 9th.”

He didn’t say anything more. Instead it was Zhang Yuge who asked Ning Sui, “What about you?”

Ning Sui’s lashes blinked without thought—these three numbers sounded oddly familiar. “January 29th.”

“During winter break, right around New Year’s.” Zhang Yuge said, “What about Qing-bro?”

“June. I’d just had my birthday right before coming back from the States.” Shen Qing smiled.

“Where in America were you studying?” Xie Yichen asked.

Shen Qing named his private high school. Xie Yichen replied, “I visited New Jersey once. The greenery and scenery there are beautiful—a great place for photography.”

“Very true. I used to go out on weekends for landscape shots.” Shen Qing hadn’t expected Xie Yichen to know anything about his school, and engaged with interest. “The geography of New Jersey is nice too—very close to New York and Philadelphia.”

“It is. Not far from Boston either—that whole area is practically a university city.”

The two of them were quickly in easy, wide-ranging conversation—about studying and living abroad, and the many vivid adventures of travel.

Ning Sui found that Xie Yichen was actually quite an approachable person. Meeting him for the first time, you might feel he had an edge of bold restlessness about him—but that was only a surface impression. In reality, he had absolutely no airs about him.

She had expected the “provincial top scorer” label might throw him off balance in some way.

Because some people, after scoring very high marks, started misjudging themselves. She knew a high-achieving senior from their school’s previous year who, after doing exceptionally well on his college entrance exams, developed a dangerously inflated self-image—became very arrogant, acting like he was two or three ranks above everyone else. Naturally, university straightened him out pretty quickly.

But Xie Yichen was different.

Looking into his eyes, Ning Sui could tell that none of those external things had touched his equilibrium. His eyes were clear and penetrating, grounded and steady, making you feel that just looking at him was somehow reassuring. As if no matter how the world around him shifted or changed, he would never change along with it.

Shen Qing was still asking him questions. “When did you go, exactly?”

Xie Yichen smiled lightly. “Around eight or nine years old, I think. I don’t remember much.”

The stone slab barbecue place turned out to be inside the old town itself. They parked in the lot near the inn, and the whole group descended on the restaurant in high spirits. Zhang Yuge was rubbing his stomach, hollering the moment they walked in. “Boss! Send someone over to take our order!”

The seats were sturdy wooden chairs arranged around a table in a circle, close enough together to feel genuinely convivial. Xu Zhou and Hu Ke’er sat side by side; Ning Sui ended up between Hu Ke’er and Xie Yichen.

The owner brought over the menus—the single-use paper kind that could be marked up directly and doubled as a tablecloth. He stood to one side with practiced ease, made his recommendations, and asked with a smile, “What would you all like?”

Zhang Yuge rattled off a list of skewers—every kind of meat, one of each, all in servings of six. Everyone was absolutely famished, no objections from anyone. Each person also added one or two more dishes of their own choosing.

The barbecue at the other tables was already sizzling and fragrant, steam rising in waves. Hu Ke’er stared at the promotional banner hanging across the street at a specialty goods store and said vacantly, “Why is yak jerky a form of intangible cultural heritage?”

Zhang Yuge also stared and swallowed. “Right? That’s just one extra word. This stuff is extremely tangible—how intangible does meat get?!”

“……”

About ten minutes later, their food finally arrived.

It was a self-service grill. The trays of ingredients were closest to Xu Zhou. Hu Ke’er looked at him hopefully first—but Young Master Xu was clearly not the type to wait on anyone. She made eyes at him several times and got the same response as making eyes at a block of wood. Hu Ke’er shot him a private glare, and pulled Ning Sui along. “Then let’s do it ourselves.”

Ning Sui agreed. Before she’d even made a move, the person sitting next to her stood up. “I’ll take care of it.”

Zhang Yuge let out a low whistle. “Oh-ho, the esteemed Chen is going to demonstrate his culinary skills for us!”

Hu Ke’er, sharp-eared as ever, latched onto the implication. “What does that mean—he’s a good cook?”

Xu Zhou gave her a sideways look. Zhang Yuge jumped in. “Very much so. One time a few of us went over to his place, he cooked for us. That sweet-and-sour pork ribs smell alone——”

He seemed to relive it with pleasure. “Anyway, you’ll see for yourselves in a bit. I guarantee the esteemed guests will be satisfied.”

“That’s enough out of you. Any more and people will think I’m paying you to advertise.” Xie Yichen arranged the skewers in rows on the oiled grill paper, his voice unhurried. “The technical challenge here is pretty much limited to flipping things back and forth.”

Everyone’s stomachs were growling loud enough to hear each other. They watched, rapt, as the meat on the grill steadily sizzled toward doneness.

Cumin went on, followed by two more coats of chili sauce. The aroma was thick and punchy. Xie Yichen transferred everything to a plate to the side, paused to take a breath. “Alright—it’s ready.”

Xu Zhou was sitting farthest away, so he specifically portioned out a plate and passed it over.

Xu Zhou’s hands paused for a moment. He said thank you. Xie Yichen gave him a brief nod.

The barbecue genuinely didn’t require much skill, but what he’d made was genuinely good—the meat was savory and crispy outside, tender within, and everyone ate with real relish.

They wolfed down the first round, and new dishes were brought out.

Xie Yichen ate a little, then stood back up to grill for the group. Whenever a bit of oil spattered and flared, he’d flip the skewer before it could scorch—attentive and thorough in the way he handled everything.

Being close to the grill meant the heat was intense. Ning Sui offered him a napkin, indicating he could wipe his forehead.

Xie Yichen had his hands full and couldn’t manage it. His dark eyes glanced over at her briefly. Ning Sui understood and set the napkin within easy reach.

Hu Ke’er watched and felt increasingly that Xu Zhou, that useless creature, was a pitiful comparison. The difference between them was stark. A true campus heartthrob was a campus heartthrob regardless of setting—even in this smoky, bustling environment, he remained devastatingly sharp-featured and clear-eyed, with clean, defined fingers.

Only on closer inspection did she notice: on the inner side of his left forearm, there was a mark—deeper than his skin tone, long, something like ten or more centimeters. Hu Ke’er asked without thinking, “Xie Yichen, what’s that on your arm?”

As soon as the words were out, she realized it must be an old scar. Xie Yichen followed her gaze down, then turned his wrist casually, unbothered. “Old injury from a fall.”

His tone was relaxed. It was Zhang Yuge to one side who discreetly glanced at him, wearing an expression like he was holding something back.

A brief quietness came over the table. Something subtly charged in the air for just a moment.

But it was only a moment. The surrounding environment was lively and noisy, and someone like Xu Zhou—blissfully oblivious—felt nothing at all and was simply staring at the plate in front of him, waiting to be fed.

Before anyone could speak, Ning Sui suddenly said, “Hey, this lettuce-wrapped meat is actually really good.”

She was still chewing, cheeks full, eyes clear and guileless—like a little squirrel nibbling away. Xie Yichen’s dark gaze lingered on her for a moment, and the arch of his brow lifted in that same undisturbed, unruly way it always did.

He said nothing—just nudged the dish a little closer to her, and lazily tipped his chin in its direction. “Take more if you want it.”

Still about half the ingredients left to grill. Shen Qing, noticing Xie Yichen had been standing too long, kindly offered to take over. “I’ll handle the rest.”

Xie Yichen didn’t insist—he sat back down with a composed ease, using the napkin Ning Sui had given him to wipe his fingers. “Thanks.”

Zhang Yuge had earlier ordered five or six trays of meat, then added several more servings of other dishes. After about half an hour, everyone was thoroughly stuffed. Desserts had come out, and Hu Ke’er’s sea urchin fried rice still hadn’t arrived. She pushed Xu Zhou to go check on it. Young Master Xu finally got up with visible reluctance and headed toward the kitchen.

Of those remaining at the table, only Ning Sui and Xie Yichen had nothing in front of them. Xie Yichen wasn’t fond of sweet things. Zhang Yuge asked, “Ning Sui, aren’t you having any?”

This restaurant’s desserts were all taro ball soups with fruit. Hu Ke’er, with her quick tongue, answered for her before she could. “Sui’s allergic to taro balls.”

“What?” Zhang Yuge was genuinely shocked. “You can actually be allergic to taro balls?!”

Hu Ke’er made a sound. “Clearly you didn’t know—the cassava starch used to make taro balls is a plant-based protein. Some people do have allergic reactions to it.”

Truly, the world was a boundless place full of wonders.

Zhang Yuge shook his head in amazement. “Lucky it’s not too serious. I’ve heard of people allergic to water and eggs—now that’s actually life-threatening.”

While they were still talking, Xu Zhou appeared from around the corner with a server in tow, carrying Hu Ke’er’s clay pot. She was actually a little too full by now, so she generously ladled out three portions. “Help yourselves if anyone wants some.”

The food at this restaurant was quite good—rice well-fried and fragrant—but the one downside was the excessive use of oil. Hu Ke’er was in the middle of eating heartily when something felt off on the tip of her tongue. She’d bitten down on a strand of hair.

The bite in her mouth instantly became impossible to swallow—she even felt a bit nauseous.

“Excuse me! Why is there a hair in your fried rice?!”

The owner came over promptly. “Oh dear—you found this in the fried rice, did you?”

He paused. “Ah—what I mean is, are you certain it came from the chef?”

“Then where else would it come from?” Hu Ke’er demanded furiously. “Did you think I pulled it out of my own head? Look clearly—my hair is brown, and this one is black. It’s also much shorter than mine!”

“That is strange, because the chef handling the fried rice tonight is completely bald—he’s the only one on duty today.”

The owner instructed a nearby staff member to bring the chef out. What followed was truly astonishing—the man walked out completely bald, his head smooth and gleaming, without a single hair on it.

Hu Ke’er stared. “Is it possible a server’s hair dropped in?”

“That doesn’t seem likely either—our chef puts the clay pot lid on as soon as the rice is done and sends it straight out.”

Even the owner was baffled. Unable to come up with any explanation, Hu Ke’er was about to wave a hand and let it go—when Zhang Yuge, from beside her, said with perfect casualness, “Have a look at how long the strand is. Is it curly or straight?”

Hu Ke’er stood frozen for a full three seconds, then went red in the face and lunged at him. “Zhang Yuge I am going to KILL you——!!”