Seeing what was inside the bag, Ning Sui felt an involuntary flutter in her chest.

Something in there went quiet for a moment — and then, gently, a mountain breeze seemed to pass through.

The shawl’s pattern held a cluster of sunflowers in full bloom, nestled together. She lowered her lashes and was still for a brief moment, then opened her mouth and asked softly: “This — where did you get this.”

Xie Yichen had run across two entire streets before finding the thing. His expression wasn’t entirely composed at the moment either. He gave a small cough: “The shawl I bought from the nearest shop. The other items I asked a store employee for.”

“Oh.” Her ears felt a little warm. Ning Sui bit her lip very slightly, her voice unusually quiet and soft: “Then — I’ll just go to the restroom for a moment.”

Xie Yichen still hadn’t looked at her. His knuckles tapped lightly on the tabletop: “Mm.”

The drink shop’s back kitchen had a restroom. In the stall, Ning Sui checked her clothes — there was indeed blood on her underwear, but mercifully, it hadn’t reached the outer garment. She cleaned up as best she could with tissue paper, and put on the sanitary pad securely.

She thought for a moment, then took the shawl out of the bag, held it in her arms, and walked back out.

At this point, Xie Yichen was sitting in his seat, absently chewing the straw of his drink.

Their eyes met. She hesitated for just a moment, then walked back naturally and sat down.

Only then did she notice: he was drinking the glutinous rice milk tea she had ordered, and set squarely in front of her was his lime green tea.

Ning Sui blinked with mild bewilderment: “I thought the one I ordered wasn’t this.”

Xie Yichen raised an eyebrow, his tone unhurried, with just a touch of roguishness: “Really? I could have sworn the one I ordered was exactly this.”

“…”

Ning Sui gave him a skeptical glance, thought about saying something, and held back. She reached out and wrapped her fingers around the lime green tea — and then her movement paused, almost imperceptibly.

A warmth radiated through the cup, transferring slowly into her palm, until even the center of her hand felt gently, pleasantly heated.

She lifted her gaze. Xie Yichen had draped one arm lazily over the back of the chair beside him. The outside of the iced milk tea had gathered droplets of condensation, trickling slowly down the sides of the cup.

Ning Sui didn’t say anything else. She pushed her straw into the hot drink and took two unhurried sips, head slightly bowed.

Then, face composed: “Oh — I think I misremembered.”

Xie Yichen gave a noncommittal smile. After a short while, he set his cup back on the table and reclined against the chairback with complete ease of mind. He asked her: “Still going to the Sun Palace?”

“Going.” Ning Sui didn’t even pause to think — having come this far, there was no reason to turn back now. “To say I’ve been, if nothing else.”

They sat a while longer, then stepped out of the tea shop. This street ran directly along the edge of Erhai Lake. The railing was decorated with padlocks, life rings in blue and white, and iron anchors — thoroughly nautical in character.

The entire stretch was restaurants and bar street. The bars hadn’t opened yet. Looking ahead along the short hundred-or-so meters, Ning Sui could make out the Sun Palace standing on a jutting point of the shore in the distance, surrounded by structures behind it, facing the open water — commanding and breathtaking.

Coming down from the bar street, they turned into a maze of winding back lanes. To be safe, Xie Yichen opened the navigation app, watching it as he walked. Ning Sui had opened her own navigation too, but her sense of direction was genuinely unreliable — she looked at the map and still went the wrong way, nearly drifting off in the wrong direction behind some other tourists before Xie Yichen caught her arm and pulled her back.

“What are you doing — following a stranger?” He looked at her with something between amusement and exasperation.

“…Oh.”

Ning Sui had no choice but to tuck in close beside him quietly, watching his phone and following the direction he was heading.

At a particular turning point, Xie Yichen checked the map and held it up: “Up these steps, then around the corner — should be right there.”

As he spoke, a notification banner dropped down at the top of the screen.

【Chris has sent you an image.】

Both of their gazes fell on it. The app’s logo was also clearly visible — a small green apple.

Ning Sui had barely glanced at it when Xie Yichen’s finger slid up and dismissed the notification.

“…”

Aware that her gaze was still lingering on the screen, Xie Yichen shot her a sideways look: “What are you looking at?”

Ning Sui had no idea why, but she had the vague feeling of someone who was caught doing something questionable and was now turning around to scold the witness.

She paused for a moment, then pointed obligingly: “Is that the direction we’re going?”

Xie Yichen pocketed his phone without changing expression. “Mm.”

Speaking of which, over the past few days — following his grandmother’s instructions — he had briefly used an app called “Qinguo,” and it had proven somewhat tiresome.

Since he had two weeks to complete the task and wanted to be as efficient as possible, Xie Yichen had, at the beginning, pressed the “like” button on every profile that appeared in the feed, indiscriminately.

But he soon discovered a problem with this approach: Zhang Yuge — that rascal — had a certain amount of charm, and the photo he’d chosen for the profile was particularly well-taken. As a result, roughly eight or nine out of ten of the girls Xie Yichen had liked had liked him back, and the numbers kept building. Now, every evening when he opened the app, there were ten-odd unread messages waiting.

And some of them were the coy, play-hard-to-get type — churning out messages like automated customer service bots. Screens full of “big brother,” “are you there,” “have you eaten yet,” “get some rest early.”

More boldly, some had skipped formalities entirely, sending selfies straight off the bat and asking if he wanted to meet up.

Those, Xie Yichen usually just deleted. The rest he responded to randomly, exchanging a line or two, generally probing how they had heard about the app and occasionally asking about their experience using it.

Xie Yichen felt that his grandmother was, without question, a clever woman — this arrangement was on par with tutoring little Tiantian, both of them thankless tasks.

The world was wide, and every kind of person found their way to him. He hadn’t included much detail in his profile at first, but after being worn down by assorted strange messages until his patience ran thin, he added that one line about his ideal partner.

He had to admit, the effect was surprisingly good. These past two days had been considerably quieter.

That afternoon, the Sun Palace offered tea. Admission was priced per person, and Xie Yichen had bought two tickets through his phone.

Having been here before, he didn’t need a guide. Xie Yichen led Ning Sui on a simple tour of the grounds.

The walls and floors of the rooms were all stone. Some areas required visitors to remove their shoes before entering. Even the bed frames were made of stone. Empty fireplaces sat waiting for cold evenings. The decorations were antique and atmospheric, steeped in the style of the local ethnic minority.

While Ning Sui busied herself looking at and touching everything with curiosity, Xie Yichen stood nearby, lazily scrolling through his phone.

Zhang Yuge had woken up from his nap by now, and had even sent Xie Yichen a red envelope. He opened it — one yuan.

Xie Yichen: 【?】

Xie Yichen: 【What’s this for】

Jin Ge: 【I was testing if red envelopes could be recalled】

Xie Yichen: 【?】

Jin Ge: 【Conclusion: they cannot [smile]】

Xie Yichen: 【…】

Jin Ge: 【Where’d you wander off to, Your Lordship? You disappeared again.】

Xie Yichen: 【Out and about】

Jin Ge: 【Left me behind again [contempt]】

Xie Yichen: 【Have you ever had pan-fried octopus?】

Jin Ge: 【???】

Xie Yichen: 【Go ask Old Lin which of you was the one sleeping like a puddle of mud just now.】

The two of them moved through the maze of stone rooms and made their way upward. The internal structure of the place was intricate and irregular — the staircases came in all manner of shapes. Some rooms were spacious, others tight and narrow. The further up you went, the more cramped it became — and just when you thought you had reached the top, around some corner another level would suddenly emerge.

Ning Sui leaned over the staircase railing and stood on her toes to peer upward, eyes wide with wonder: “Wow, there’s actually another level up there. What do you think it was used for?”

Xie Yichen followed behind her, glancing upward. It was a small triangular ceiling section. He made a guess: “A loft, probably.”

Ning Sui: “Hmm, I thought it was a bathroom.”

Xie Yichen faltered slightly: “…What?”

Ning Sui pointed and explained her reasoning: “See — this level doesn’t have a staircase up to it. There’s only that circular opening in the ceiling. That’s a toilet hole, right?”

“…”

“No, that’s an access ladder. The opening is for people to climb through.”

Xie Yichen looked directly at her, his expression caught somewhere between laughing and utter defeat: “Does your bathroom sit on the top floor? And another question — if that opening is the toilet, what exactly is underneath it to catch… things?”

“…”

He had a point.

Ning Sui thought carefully: “Mainly — the layer below it is also empty, isn’t it? So I assumed this floor was…”

What she left unspoken was quite evocative. It was a perfectly ordinary stone room — just a little narrow — yet somehow Xie Yichen suddenly found himself half-convinced he was detecting a certain odor.

“…”

He retreated down several steps. He genuinely could not articulate what he was feeling. He looked up and saw Ning Sui still standing above him, gazing down at him with bright, curious eyes.

Perhaps it was the depth of the stone walls, or the lack of inhabitants in these two empty floors — whatever the reason, her light green dress stood out vividly against the somber backdrop, and so did the two slender, fair, impossibly straight legs beneath it.

Lower still — just a few inches above the white platform shoes, the anklebones were delicate and lovely.

Their eyes met in midair. Ning Sui was still holding the shawl he had bought, bundled soft and fluffy against her chest. Xie Yichen’s lashes shifted. He asked: “Are you hot?”

The shawl was pressed against the inside of her arm. She descended a few steps, closing the distance until she and he were at roughly the same eye level, separated by just two stairs: “A little.”

“Let me take that.” He held out his hand.

Ning Sui blinked: “Hm?”

“That, give it to me.” Xie Yichen tilted his chin. “Isn’t it hot, carrying a big bundle of wool?”

Ning Sui reflexively glanced down: “Oh. Alright.”

She passed it over. He caught it with practiced ease and draped it over his forearm. The two of them made their way down the stairs and stepped out of the Sun Palace.

Along the way there were stalls selling little trinkets and keepsakes. Ning Sui wandered and browsed. Xie Yichen stayed nearby in an easy, unhurried manner, answering Zhang Yuge’s messages between glances.

Just as they were chatting, an unknown number flashed up on his screen.

Xie Yichen’s fingertip stilled. He looked at it, head slightly bowed, for two still seconds — then pressed decline without any particular expression.

He kept his eyes on the screen for a moment. No second call came. After a few minutes, a text message appeared.

【Yichen, auntie bought you a computer — consider it a celebration of how well you did on your exams. I heard this model is excellent for gaming, and I hope you’ll like it. It’s nothing extravagant. I’ve already had your father bring it home. Please don’t refuse auntie’s kindness yet again.

Also, your mother is traveling to Shen City on business next week. Once you’re back from Yunnan, would you have time to come out for a meal? I hear that since your results came out, there hasn’t been a proper celebration yet.】

The message itself was simple enough, but it stretched into a long paragraph in the chat window. Xie Yichen slowed his steps. His expression grew gradually cool.

He typed a few characters, thought it over, and deleted them.

He did this several times. In the end, he responded with measured restraint: 【Thank you for the gift, auntie. Please don’t feel you need to do this in future. As for dinner — let’s leave that for another time. I don’t know exactly when I’ll be back, and I wouldn’t want to keep you waiting for nothing.】

They had nearly reached South Harbor pier. Ahead, a barbecue stall was sending wafts of smoky, savory fragrance into the air, flanked by a fruit shop.

Outside, two bamboo woven baskets had been set out as display stands — one filled with star fruit, the other with golden passionfruit. Both were varieties one didn’t commonly see.

Star fruit was plump and rounded, cheerful-looking, with a few gentle arcs of pale purple tracing across the skin. The flesh inside was a pale yellow — sweet but not cloying, with plenty of juice.

Further on were several Bai cuisine restaurants and shops. At four or five in the afternoon, it was still too early for the dinner crowd.

By now Xie Yichen seemed to have finished dealing with whatever he needed to deal with. He put his phone away, his gaze drifting toward the storefronts, the look in his eyes still unbothered and even.

It was at this moment that Ning Sui came over with a bag in hand and asked: “Xie Yichen, do you want to try some star fruit? They’re supposed to be very sweet.”

Xie Yichen paused, then glanced at her: “You’ve had one?”

“No.”

“Then how would you know.”

Ning Sui looked up at him: “The shopkeeper said so.”

That line was innocent enough to move even a seasoned liar to tears. Xie Yichen let out a quiet laugh — and ambled along the stone-paved road, lips curving: “Would she really say they’re not sweet?”

The two of them caught each other’s eyes without meaning to.

Under his gaze, Ning Sui wet her lips lightly, shifted the woolen shawl back into her arms to free up his hands, and said generously: “…Then you try one?”

Xie Yichen looked at her once more, and then reached into the bag to take one. In the middle of summer, the shopkeeper had been keeping them submerged in cold water to stay fresh, so the fruit was cool and refreshing against his fingers.

Last time, Zou Xiao’s bag hadn’t included any for him. This was Xie Yichen’s first time trying star fruit too. He took a bite. It really was sweet. No one had lied.

“Good?” Ning Sui leaned in slightly to ask.

Xie Yichen gave a low sound of assent.

Ning Sui studied his expression. Her dark eyes brightened a little. A thought occurred to her: “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever actually been tricked in my whole life.”

Xia Fanghui had always worried that Ning Sui would run into bad people when she went out — that she’d be taken advantage of and not even know it.

When Ning Sui was younger, she had been an exceptionally bright-eyed and endearing child — rosy-cheeked and soft — and Xia Fanghui always worried that child traffickers would single her out. So she had never let Ning Sui walk home from school by herself, no matter how busy she was — she always picked her up in person, rain or shine.

In truth, Ning Sui felt her instincts about people were fairly reliable. What they called a sixth sense. Some people she would feel an immediate distance from the moment she saw them, with no desire to get closer. But others — she’d find herself, for no reason she could explain, feeling a kind of warmth and trust.

“That’s impressive,” Xie Yichen said, his brows lifting slightly. “How do you manage it?”

Ning Sui thought for a moment, then said lightly: “It’s simple.”

“?”

“I have no money.”

“…”

Xie Yichen burst out laughing. Ning Sui thought: don’t laugh — it’s really like that. Xia Fanghui, in her efforts to prevent all possible disasters, had never given her pocket money.

The usual arrangement was that Ning Sui would see something she wanted, report it to Xia Fanghui, and then her mother would go buy it herself. As long as it wasn’t too outlandish, Xia Fanghui would almost always agree — whatever she wished for, she could have.

In middle school, she was once standing outside the school gates waiting for her mother, when she encountered a scammer.

Perhaps because there were so many people coming and going, the person hadn’t been planning anything too elaborate — he simply told her he was a teacher from the school and spun a little story, asking her for twenty yuan for a textbook fee.

Ning Sui spotted something off about it, but at the time she still replied very politely: “Please wait just a moment, sir. I don’t have any money on me right now, but my mother is coming soon — she can pay you directly.”

The scammer was absolutely stunned: “You don’t even have twenty yuan??”

Ning Sui: “That’s right.”

“What about ten?”

Ning Sui, quite honestly: “I don’t have that either.”

The scammer heaved a deeply sorrowful sigh: “The state of the world today — these parents, they really are something else!”