After a few more rounds, the atmosphere grew progressively warmer.

Sun Hao snuck away from Lin Shuyu and did ten push-ups online; Zhang Yuge got the dare to call the sixth number in his contact list and say “you idiot” — then discovered it was his mom. He was now in the bathroom, both legs trembling as he tried to explain himself through a torrent of her fury.

“Let that be a lesson to everyone,” Lin Shuyu laughed so hard he had to support himself against the wall. “Next time you can’t complete a dare, just take the penalty drink — no playing hero.”

Xu Zhou was drawn for a Truth, with Zhao Yingyao as the designated questioner.

She glanced at Hu Ke’er first, then pressed her lips together, smiling sweetly: “How many girlfriends have you had before Ke’er?”

The room went quiet. She was quite bold for asking, but as everyone knew, gossip is built upon the sacrifice of others, so the whole circle held their breath and waited eagerly for the show.

Xu Zhou instinctively looked at Hu Ke’er. Hu Ke’er raised an eyebrow with mild indifference, nudged him with her elbow: “Why are you looking at me? Answer honestly.”

“Two.” Xu Zhou turned the beer bottle slowly in his hands with reasonable composure. He’d already told her all this beforehand, and he added for good measure: “But neither was long.”

Lin Shuyu clicked his tongue: “The man’s survival instinct is something else.”

The next round of spinning landed on Hu Ke’er again. She lamented her terrible luck.

Sun Hao drew as prompter, and since they weren’t close, he kept his question very gentle — just asking her to share one fun fact about someone in the room.

Hu Ke’er said: “Suisui’s nickname is Coconut. Her parents usually call her Little Coco.”

Lin Shuyu asked: “Why?”

Hu Ke’er explained about the coconut juice and the peace-sign poses; everyone found it charming.

Another spin, and this time it landed on Xie Yichen.

Ning Sui was sitting beside him. She’d just watched him laughing a moment ago; now, with a languid ease, he said: “Truth.”

“Truth is for wimps — a real one goes with Dare!” Zhang Yuge, who had just returned, challenged him immediately.

Xie Yichen looked at him without hurry, as if weighing it up for a moment, then said with perfect composure: “I’ll go with Truth.”

Zhang Yuge: “……”

The person drawing the question was Shen Qing. Having no desire to make things difficult for anyone, he let the mini-program generate one at random: “Which season do you like most, and why?”

A rare turn for Xie Yichen, wasted on something this simple. Zhang Yuge was so disgusted he could only roll his eyes.

Xie Yichen seemed to find this amusing and looked back at him with a composed ease: “Winter.”

Zhang Yuge was actually surprised. He’d expected him to say summer.

“Why?”

Xie Yichen raised his eyes with that languid air: “If it snows on a winter night, it’s very romantic.”

Well said, but — Zhang Yuge casually remarked: “It’s never snowed in Huai’an though, right?”

Xie Yichen was noncommittal: “Mm.”

Zhang Yuge: “……”

Then what are you even talking about, sir.

He didn’t notice that the person sitting diagonally across from him had given the faintest flicker of their lashes. He just turned back to the group and declared pointedly: “Next round — everyone bring your real game. Answers like that are getting you a penalty drink!”

——

By the time the clock was nearing two in the morning, empty bottles were rolling around everywhere, the table a chaotic wreckage of cups and plates.

Zhao Yingyao and Sun Hao had both passed out drunk and were dozing to the side. Lin Shuyu was yawning and said one more round and they’d call it.

Perhaps fortune had finally turned, because this time the bottle at last landed on the one person who hadn’t been picked yet: Ning Sui.

Ning Sui thought for a moment. “Dare.”

Xie Yichen glanced sideways at her. Ning Sui had the impression he was maybe a little drunk too — or perhaps it was the dim lighting — but the hard, clean profile of his face carried a hint of something cool and sharp.

The prompter’s role landed on Zou Xiao. She clearly hadn’t expected it either, and her expression shifted. After a brief pause she leaned forward and slowly said: “Then — have a crossed-cup toast with the person in the room you’ve known the longest, who’s of the opposite sex.”

Earlier, when Xie Yichen said he was drinking on behalf of Lin Shuyu, Zou Xiao had felt — in her gut — that he was actually drinking for Ning Sui.

She regretted having been too clumsy earlier, so now she was determined to get something back.

It didn’t matter whether Ning Sui drank with Xu Zhou or Shen Qing — either outcome benefited her. And if it really was Xu Zhou, and Hu Ke’er got into a fight with Ning Sui over it, that was none of her concern.

Lin Shuyu frowned first, swaying slightly as he sat up straighter, his words coming out a little thick: “Ning Sui is allergic to alcohol.”

“But didn’t she just say a little was fine? It’s just symbolic — just go through the motion.” Zou Xiao shot Lin Shuyu a dismissive glance and said playfully, “Ning Sui hasn’t even said anything yet — why are you so worked up, Shuyu?”

Lin Shuyu was silenced by that, and could only look at Ning Sui. His eyes said it clearly: ignore her. You have every right to refuse. That’s just the way she is.

Ning Sui pressed her lips together and said nothing.

She could feel the faint weight of the person beside her’s breathing — carrying a trace of alcohol, mingling with the damp heat of the summer night — slowly, steadily pressing in, permeating the surrounding air.

Ning Sui tilted her head and looked around the circle. Then she weighed the glass she’d set on the coffee table a moment ago.

She turned sideways and said, placidly: “There doesn’t seem to be any wine left.”

—

A sultry summer night, with a gentle breeze wandering through.

The speaker had long since been switched off, and the room had gone quiet — nothing but the faint tick of the clock hands turning on the wall.

Only one wall lamp remained, casting its glow over the small circle.

The final dare faded away without resolution. Everyone was exhausted; the moment they let their guard down, they all fell into a shambles, strewn about in a heap of varying stages of drunkenness.

Lin Shuyu had drunk the most. He’d already pushed himself to the edge at dinner, then hammered through the rest when they got back. His stomach couldn’t take it anymore, and he went to the bathroom and spent some time doubled over the toilet.

Zhang Yuge had completely lost the plot. He was now lying face-down on the floor, phone out, calling the dorm supervisor: “Hello, is this Teacher Wang Li? Yeah — hi, it’s Octopus here. Hey, let me finish before you start yelling—”

Hu Ke’er had collapsed against Xu Zhou, muttering something indistinct.

A room full of drunk people, not a single capable adult in sight.

Hu Ke’er still had just enough awareness to move on her own. She threw her arm over Ning Sui’s shoulder, and Ning Sui steadied her and helped her to her feet, instinctively glancing sideways at Xie Yichen.

Before she could say anything, their eyes met — and he switched on his flashlight, walked directly over to her side: “Let’s go.”

How is it that we’re this in sync?

Ning Sui felt as though she might be a little drunk herself. Her thoughts were moving a little slowly.

Xie Yichen lit the way with his phone as he walked Ning Sui and Hu Ke’er back to their room.

The moment she was near the bed, Hu Ke’er keeled forward with practiced self-awareness and was out cold.

Xie Yichen leaned against the doorframe and watched Ning Sui go into the bathroom to boil water. “Do you need help?”

Ning Sui came back out, rummaged in her suitcase, head not raised, making a couple of vague sounds — something like: no need.

Like a small animal.

Xie Yichen narrowed his eyes slightly, watching her pull a box of vitamin C effervescent tablets out of a zippered travel pouch with orderly efficiency.

“What are you doing?” he asked, genuinely curious, his voice carrying a faint roughness from all the drinking.

Ning Sui crouched in front of the suitcase, carefully reading the instructions. At the question she looked up briefly, her delicate features blurred with drowsiness: “I heard these help with a hangover.”

She thought for a second. “Don’t leave yet — once the water’s boiled, come have a cup too.”

He was fairly sure she meant it, and thought her lip corner might have curved — though he couldn’t quite see. All he heard was Xie Yichen saying mm, then he looked down and asked: “What’s all this?”

The travel pouch was full of a small assortment of boxes and bottles.

“Medicine my mom packed for me.”

Cetirizine hydrochloride antihistamine tablets, throat lozenges, Rhodiola rosea, iodine swabs, and a bottle of cetirizine — that last one was specifically prepared in case Ning Sui accidentally ate something with taro.

Ning Sui had always had a weak constitution since she was small — cold hands and feet, easily getting sick. Their medicine cabinet at home was always thoroughly stocked, and over the years, after so many trips to the doctor, Xia Fanghui had talked her way into being a semi-professional paediatrician.

By then the kettle had clicked off. Ning Sui rinsed a teacup from the guesthouse with boiling water, then diluted it to a warm temperature with mineral water, dropped in two effervescent tablets, and pushed one cup toward Xie Yichen. She carried the other to the bedside and patted Hu Ke’er on the shoulder: “Drink this.”

Hu Ke’er’s eyes stayed shut. She turned her head away with strong resistance, mumbling: “Mmm don’t wanna.”

Ning Sui spoke softly right next to her ear: “Drink it and there’ll be a handsome guy to look at.”

Hu Ke’er’s eyes were still closed. But she suddenly sat bolt upright like a reanimated corpse, took the cup, and drained it in one go.

“……”

—

The next day, everyone surfaced one by one around midday.

A hangover was no pleasant experience. Xie Yichen had at least had the effervescent tablet the night before and was feeling marginally better. Sun Hao and Zhang Yuge were generally suffering: “Damn, Lin Shuyu, was that beer you bought fake?!”

Lin Shuyu, hair sticking up in every direction and clothes in a state of disarray, stumbled in from downstairs: “As if, I feel completely fine — don’t you go pinning that on me.”

He asked in the group of ten what everyone’s plans were for the day. They’d been here quite a few days now and had been to most of the sights, so their only option was to find their new friends and tag along. But Shen Qing’s group was planning to go to Nanzhao Fengqing Island that afternoon, and taking the ferry — meaning they’d probably split up for a while. Lin Shuyu suggested: “You can take the five-deck boat — there’s even minority ethnic song and dance performances on board.”

Hu Ke’er dragged things out until past two o’clock to finally go eat lunch. By the time they finished eating, the four of them just caught the last boat out.

The island was a rather remarkable little place. It looked small — you could walk the whole perimeter in under an hour — with very few structures, yet it covered nearly a hundred acres. The waters of Erhai Lake were clear and brilliant; waves shimmered in the blazing sun, catching the light in rippling fragments that cast the scene in warm amber and orange tones.

Ning Sui felt that the Sun Palace was worth a visit, and used the photos she’d taken earlier to persuade Hu Ke’er, so the group made their way there after leaving the island to buy tickets.

A long time after the tour was done, Hu Ke’er was still sighing: “Even the bathroom in a rich person’s house is bigger than my entire home. When do you think I’ll ever be able to buy a place this nice? Actually no — once I have the means, I won’t buy a house. I’ll buy a small island like the one we just saw, and I won’t build anything on it at all. I’ll just raise pigs.”

“……”

The waterfront street had become thoroughly commercialized, dotted with trendy beverage shops and more. As they were walking, a man in a hip-hop aesthetic — clearly an internet personality — came toward them filming a video, a woman beside him giving directions.

The woman beside him was apparently his creative director: “This trip we’re doing a special on folk customs and local color in old towns, so we want to collect as much material as possible from as many different age groups as we can.”

“The inner kernel of comedy is tragedy — only by excavating the essence of different groups can you really hit people where it counts, you know? Like that girl just now who said she had no money to raise pigs — she was great…”

Saying that, she led the way toward Hu Ke’er, all smiles, holding out a microphone: “Excuse me, you look young — still in school, right?”

Hu Ke’er nodded. “Auntie, we just finished the college entrance exam.”

The woman: “……ha ha, and why did you come to Shuanglang Old Town?”

“Graduation trip.”

“And how did you feel about this year’s exam? How well do you think you did?”

Hu Ke’er: “Sort of okay, I guess. I’m not entirely satisfied with myself.”

“Ah.” The woman turned and exchanged a look with the man filming, as if to say: there it is — the essence. Her tone turned sympathetic: “So you came out to clear your head after a disappointing result? Which university are you going to?”

“Peking University.”

“……”

The woman’s smile grew a little strained. The internet personality stepped forward, slightly awkward, angling the camera toward Ning Sui: “And what about you? How do you feel your performance was? Better than your friend?”

Ning Sui thought carefully: “If I hadn’t skipped steps in the last big question in math, I would have had a perfect score. Everything else I’m fairly satisfied with.”

“……”

The internet personality shifted targets, looking at Xu Zhou: “Are you two couples?”

Xu Zhou replied: “No, only the one beside me is my girlfriend.”

The man pressed on: “So, if your girlfriend or female friend is this exceptional, does that put a lot of pressure on you?”

Xu Zhou nodded: “It does. I’ve always admired people who can stay steady and carry through to the end on this path.”

“And you — which university?”

Xu Zhou: “Johns Hopkins.”

Shen Qing: “Yale.”

“……”

Were old towns in this era really this competitive? What in the actual—

A few minutes later, the internet personality dragged his creative director away.

Along the street of old bricks and grey stone, the sky had begun to release a light, fine rain. The sound of someone rethinking his life choices dwindled into the distance: “Sis, I think I’m the one with the tragic inner kernel.”

—

As evening approached, the group had no plans to head back, and instead found a local restaurant in town to eat at while sheltering from the sudden light rain.

They’d eaten lunch late, so Hu Ke’er and Ning Sui weren’t very hungry. They ordered symbolically: one steam-pot chicken, one bowl of shredded chicken rice noodles.

The students who’d been accepted to Peking University and Tsinghua University had just spontaneously created a Huai’an group chat and were still adding people; the group was called “The Mutually Devoted Society of Wudaokou/Yuanmingyuan Vocational and Technical Institute,” and the excitement of being freshly past the college entrance exam was barely containable — a steady stream of messages flew out, the atmosphere blazing.

While they waited for the food, Shen Qing and Xu Zhou were talking about middle school. Ning Sui and Hu Ke’er had their heads down, engrossed in scrolling through the group.

[Genuinely, what is everyone doing this summer?] [GRE. Driver’s license. Self-studying university math. :)] [Bro, chill — why so intense?] [Looked at your profile info — figures, you’re from the rival school next door. [666]]

Someone wrote: [Hey, I heard the top-ten scorers in the province get tens of thousands in prize money — so jealous. Not sure if it’s true though.]

A person who was clearly from Gaohua instantly jumped in: [For that question, just ask Xie Yichen, right?]

[Who’s that? The name sounds familiar.] [He’s our province’s top scorer. [bowing]] [He’s not in the group yet, is he?] [I sent an invite earlier, he hasn’t approved it. His Moments say he’s in Dali right now — probably too busy to check.]

About half the group was from Gaohua. There wasn’t a single person among them who hadn’t heard the name Xie Yichen.

A girl tentatively spoke up: [So is he actually that good-looking? I haven’t seen any interviews online.] [[dog-head emoji]] [Ooh, someone’s interested?] [He doesn’t do interviews. If you want to see photos, try this — our school’s internal confession wall. You need a passcode to get in: just search the founding date of Gaohua. Once you’re in—] [Haha, just checked — right there in the top hot posts.]

Then someone dropped a link.

It set something off like a lit fuse. With the man himself away, the whole group burst into lively discussion.

All kinds of secondhand accounts started flowing.

— Xie Yichen is actually really approachable; he can do any kind of math problem; he’s exceptional at both math competition and computer science competition.

Apparently there were a lot of girls at school who liked him, but the way he declined people was very graceful — he never put anyone in an awkward position, never said a disparaging word about anyone.

Then someone mentioned that Xie Yichen came from a good family, his parents had a warm marriage, and his great-uncle was a professor at Tsinghua who had taught him math from a young age.

And he was apparently quite accomplished in computer science too — got into it early, and had even joined the Axis Lab. Apparently the popular VE smart robot on the market was developed by their team.

But he himself was modest, apparently — never talked about any of this in front of people.

Ning Sui clicked on the link someone had shared, entered the passcode, and the page loaded quickly. The first thing she saw was a prominently pinned HOT post: [Confession for a Senior!!! 💗]

The post was from winter break of that year, and had been up for a while before being bumped back up recently; over a thousand replies had accumulated beneath it.

The opening entry was the original poster’s account: [HELP HELP HELP!! Getting up close with Senior Xie Yichen today made my heart race so fast!!]

[So here’s what happened: I’m the Chinese class representative for my class, and the other day I was collecting assignments and taking them up to the office. The workbooks were pretty thick, and it was hard carrying them as a girl — I couldn’t even see the path in front of me clearly. When I got to the third-year floor, a senior was coming down the stairs, and I was rushing and accidentally ran right into him — pretty hard. I heard a thud, and the workbooks scattered all over the floor.]

[He was holding a cake in his hands, and the collision knocked it to the ground, completely ruined. I was so embarrassed, I was about to apologize, but he apologized first, and not only wasn’t he angry — he crouched down and started helping me pick up the books.]

[That’s when I finally dared to look at him up close, and he was SO handsome. The stairwell gets really good light, you know, and it was shining right down, and I could see his eyes were this really warm amber color! AHHHHH my heart literally stopped!!!!]

Below that was a long string of replies: [AHHHHHHH!!!]

The original poster continued: [He looks cold and untouchable from the outside, so I really didn’t expect him to be so patient and kind-tempered.]

A reply: [+1!! During the commerce competition our team had a technical issue and we asked him for help, and he was really patient in negotiating with the organizing committee for us qaq]

The original poster: [But I think he probably has a girlfriend by now, because that strawberry cake looked pretty cute — was it for a girl? Now that I think about it, it’s such a shame — I’d heard his name for so long, and always seen it on the third-year rankings board, but that was literally the first time we ran into each other face to face, and I was so flustered I just ran away :(]

A reply: [Wait no, does xyc have a girlfriend now?!] [No no, I asked around — don’t panic — it might have been a gift from some other girl to him, you know.] [But — he actually accepted it?? He used to not accept letters either — I’m genuinely jealous of whoever that girl is…]

——

The post had been highly popular at the time. After the discussion died down, it turned into a repository for photos. Scroll down far enough and you’d find candid shots from every angle. Many of them were taken in the school building or on the sports field, so Zhang Yuge and Lin Shuyu were often in frame too.

About half a year later, the post got bumped again — because someone had won the provincial top score, and many Gaohua students came to the confession wall to dig up old posts and look back at the past. Even students from other schools came to witness the occasion.

What Ning Sui genuinely admired about herself was that she had read the entire thread, no matter how long. She didn’t search Xie Yichen’s name on the confession wall — she could more or less guess what kind of results would come up.

She was drifting quietly in her thoughts when a warm breath touched the back of her ear.

Ning Sui looked around. There was Xie Yichen — elbow resting casually on the back of her chair, dark eyes gliding meaningfully across her screen, where a blurry candid photo of him playing basketball was unmistakably enlarged.

He smiled with real amusement: “What are you reading?”