“……”

Ning Coconut?!

The motorcycle shot forward. Something went off in Ning Sui’s head like a small explosion. The fingers gripping the phone curled in a reflexive, tactical retreat: “Hm?”

Xie Yichen laughed lightly: “Coconut — isn’t that your nickname?”

Only then did Ning Sui piece it together. Hu Ke’er had briefly mentioned it during the Truth or Dare game.

“……”

He really did have an excellent memory.

But — how could a nickname be put together like that?

Actually, what Hu Ke’er had said that day wasn’t entirely accurate. More than her fondness for coconut juice and the peace sign pose, the main reason Xia Fanghui had given her that name was her complexion. When she was small, she’d been pale and soft — like the white flesh inside a peeled coconut. Now that she’d grown up, it sounded a little strange. It was clearly a name made for a small child, so Ning Sui had never really mentioned it to people outside the family.

And besides — who would call someone by their full name and nickname at the same time, the way he just did?

Ning Sui suddenly felt that wearing his cotton jacket was making her very warm. She tucked the phone into her pocket and, while ducking her head, worked the zipper down a little from the collar, then gave a slow, lazy sound of acknowledgment.

Xie Yichen’s lips curved, so quietly it was almost imperceptible.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw her hesitating. After a long pause, she finally reached out one hand — slowly, tentatively — and took a light grip of the rear hem of his jacket at the side.

Then that soft, delicate voice leaned close: “Xie Yichen, when you used to travel — would you do this kind of thing often?”

Xie Yichen’s voice was a little low: “What kind of thing?”

“Like, being somewhere alone, and just on a whim going out for a ride in the middle of the night.”

“Not really. The places I went before were either natural scenic areas or somewhere abroad — going out at night there wouldn’t be safe.”

With her closer now, his shoulders appeared broader to the eye, and the line of his waist, shaped by the wind, was solid and lean. Ning Sui shifted her gaze away. The wind howled past, and again she caught that slow, pleasant, clean scent drifting from him.

Her heart was still beating quickly. Ning Sui turned her head and looked out over the wide, moonlit expanse of the lake in the distance.

She’d always wondered — why did he smell of both bright spring sunshine and vibrant summer nights?

A subtle warmth passed between their fingers, then was quickly carried off by the night wind. But the soft texture of the cotton fabric remained.

The next song switched to something with a driving beat. Ning Sui gave a small hum. “Do you have any places abroad that left a strong impression on you?”

“Mm.” Xie Yichen thought back. “In the Arab world — they kept fish in the hotel, a cylindrical aquarium tens of meters tall. Inside there were manta rays, lots of brightly colored tropical fish, and even a small shark.”

“Then in Africa — watching the animal migrations. Wildebeest crossing the river. We drove armored vehicles right up close to Maasai Mara National Reserve to see the leopards and lions. Oh, and we were invited to visit the home of a tribal chief — the walls were built from mud, and at night monkeys would climb inside.”

“And then New Zealand — there’s a place called Queenstown, surrounded by the Southern Alps. An adventurer’s paradise. Every kind of extreme sport — bungee jumping, skydiving, and a high-altitude swing with a rope three hundred meters long that sends you all the way down into the valley.”

Just listening to him describe all of this made Ning Sui feel something surge up inside her — buoyant, full of spirit — perfectly in tune with the scene of them tearing along the highway right now. She couldn’t help the small smile that curved her lips.

She said, with complete sincerity: “There’s actually a swing that long? Did you go on it?”

“I did.”

Ning Sui was curious: “Was it terrifying?”

“It was all right — very thrilling at first.” Xie Yichen wasn’t the type to be frightened by that sort of thing; he’d found it quite fun. Then something came to mind and he let out a short laugh. “Though the man sitting next to me at the time may have had a more intense experience.”

Ning Sui: “Oh?”

Xie Yichen: “His toupee flew off.”

“……”

—

By the time they returned to the guesthouse, it was nearly four in the morning. The main hall was perfectly still, exactly as they had left it.

When Ning Sui climbed off, her legs felt slightly weak beneath her. The rapid drumming in her chest hadn’t quite settled — though she removed the helmet much more smoothly than before.

The fatigue hit her then, late and all at once. The sky outside was still draped in a dark veil. Xie Yichen walked with her along the corridor back toward their rooms: “When are you and the others heading back to Huai’an?”

So different from moments ago, riding the motorcycle.

Without the backdrop of rushing wind, the air was so quiet now that it was easy to notice how close they were standing to each other.

Shoulder to shoulder, elbow to elbow. The young man’s figure was tall and long-limbed, and half his shadow fell across her. His breath drifted warm and unhurried past her ear. Ning Sui couldn’t help closing her fingers into a light fist.

She lowered her head, thinking it through for a moment. “Not sure — probably in the next couple of days. I’ll ask the others tomorrow.”

Xie Yichen gave a low hum of acknowledgment.

They walked the rest of the way without speaking. When they reached the door of Ning Sui’s room, Xie Yichen stopped first.

Ning Sui, a step behind, lifted her eyes belatedly. She slipped off the jacket and handed it back along with his phone: “Thank you.”

Xie Yichen took them and looked down, his lashes lowering. “Then — I’ll head back first.”

“……Mm.”

“Mm. Good night.”

Ning Sui looked up at him — and unexpectedly, their eyes met without any guard at all. Her body went still for an instant.

— Those dark, beautiful eyes were fixed on her. It was strange: why, even in a place this dim, were his eyes still bright? Raven-dark lashes fanned softly downward, making the fold along his upper eyelids look all the deeper.

Something inside her chest stumbled, then struck an uneven note.

As though something had been slowly, quietly accumulating without her awareness. Her thoughts grew slightly tangled, and in that moment she couldn’t quite straighten them out.

Ning Sui pressed her lips together and swallowed whatever had risen in her throat, and quickly said: “Good night.”

She said it and turned at once to open the door, without looking back at him.

Back in the room, Hu Ke’er was still fast asleep — though in a completely different position than a few hours ago. She had somehow flipped herself the other way, feet propped up on the pillow. No one could say how she had managed it.

No missed calls or messages on the phone. Ning Sui quietly breathed a sigh of relief. She was genuinely exhausted — she changed into her pajamas in a daze, crept carefully into bed, set an alarm for ten, and fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

The next morning, the alarm rang out in bright, clear chimes. Ning Sui pried her eyes open in a blur; the light outside the window was already full and bright.

Hu Ke’er, equally bleary-eyed, heaved herself upright and felt around on the bedside table for her phone.

She gave Ning Sui a once-over first — a quick up-and-down look — then said: “Let me check if the other two are up.”

Ning Sui gave a hum. “I’m going outside to make a call.”

Her grandmother had been on her mind. She draped a jacket over her shoulders and stood by the door. The phone picked up quickly on the other end — cheerful and warm — calling out “Little Coconut” the way it always did.

Going by the sound of her voice, she seemed to be doing all right. A slight frailty in it, but nothing alarming. Ning Sui felt a quiet loosening in her chest. “Grandma, how are you feeling?”

“Very well, nothing to worry about.” Her grandmother still didn’t know that Xia Fanghui had already spoken to Ning Sui, and was pretending nothing had happened. “A minor thing. Your mother insists on taking me to the hospital today. Making a fuss over nothing.”

Ning Sui’s voice was firm: “The doctors said you need to be admitted. They’ve been saying so for a long time now. Please don’t be childish about it.”

The other end went quiet for a moment. The confidence in her grandmother’s voice clearly diminished. She muttered: “She told you, didn’t she.” Then, trying to deflect: “I know my own body…”

Ning Sui cut her off: “It’s right for her to tell me. And we need to listen to the doctors.”

Her grandmother was reluctant: “The hospital just gives you medicine and puts you on oxygen and charges a fortune for the privilege. I worked as a nurse. I know how it is.”

Ning Sui said gently: “When your kidneys were bad, you said the same thing. Mom and I believed you. And now here we are — coming in for dialysis. Doesn’t that remind you of a classic children’s story?”

“What story?”

“The boy who cried wolf.”

“……”

Her grandmother fell silent.

Not long after, Xia Fanghui sent Ning Sui a WeChat message: 【Amazing — you actually managed to talk that stubbornly impossible grandmother of yours around. She was just making a scene with me, and now she’s quietly packing her bag 😎】

Ning Sui sent back the same sunglasses emoji.

They’d been here for several days now, and had more or less seen and done everything there was to see and do. It was about time to head home. She also wanted to get back and check on her grandmother.

She had barely stepped back into the room when she heard Hu Ke’er in the bathroom draw a sharp breath: “Good heavens……”

Ning Sui hurried over to push the door open. “What’s wrong?”

Hu Ke’er stood there with a thoroughly disheveled bird’s-nest head, staring into the mirror with genuine bewilderment, then turned to glance at Ning Sui: “Tell me — how did the heavens end up blessing me with such a beautiful face?”

Ning Sui: “……”

Once Shen Qing and Xu Zhou were up, all four of them went out for a late lunch. Ning Sui hadn’t even brought up the topic of heading home yet when Xu Zhou said that something had come up at his house — his parents wanted him to return that afternoon.

It was apparent that he hadn’t said anything to Hu Ke’er, who reacted with considerable surprise: “What happened?”

Xu Zhou glanced over at Shen Qing, then didn’t say much: “Something about going to study in the United States.”

Probably related to his student visa arrangements — nothing to do with her. Hu Ke’er gave an “oh” and left it at that.

They’d been in Dali long enough anyway. Packing up and leaving today wasn’t out of the question — just a little sudden.

The group discussed it and agreed. They left the restaurant and stepped out into the open air.

It was midday. They caught a car heading south, took a look at Luwo Mountain, Xiaopuduo, and Ideal Town.

The Erhai East Road in the daytime was entirely different from what it had been at night. Bright sunshine, brilliant and golden — while at night it had held a different kind of beauty altogether, something that resisted description.

Maybe Ning Sui had been staring out the window for too long, lost in her own thoughts, because Hu Ke’er leaned over enthusiastically: “Dali weather is genuinely beautiful. People who live here must be so happy — such a slow pace, just drinking things and listening to music every day.”

Ning Sui glanced at her. “You basically do the same thing back in Huai’an.”

Hu Ke’er: “……”

She couldn’t really argue with that.

They returned to the guesthouse, packed up their things, and the car Shen Qing had ordered arrived — taking them straight to the airport. Just before leaving, Hu Ke’er said: “Should we go say goodbye to Xie Yichen and the others?”

Xu Zhou said: “I already asked earlier — they went to Yulong Snow Mountain today.”

Hu Ke’er thought: they’re keeping in close contact: “Nice. But isn’t Yulong Snow Mountain in Lijiang?”

“Two hundred kilometers — not that far. A few hours by car. Xie Yichen and his group rented a vehicle, didn’t they?”

Ning Sui was in the middle of pulling her suitcase toward the back of the car to load it, and stilled for just a moment at that, but said nothing.

Shen Qing was already beside her, with a gentle smile: “I’ll get it.”

Ning Sui thought — people really do have such different personalities. If it were Xie Yichen, he’d probably just step in and do it without a word, then say something like “did you not see me standing right here?” in that brash, theatrical way of his.

She gave a small smile and thanked Shen Qing.

Once in the car, Ning Sui put her earphones in, picked a song at random, and tucked her phone away without looking at it again.

Around the time they were almost at the airport, the group pulled their luggage toward the terminal. Once inside the arrivals hall, she finally slowly drew out her phone and checked her WeChat.

Almost instinctively she went to look at the dark profile picture. There were unread messages.

Xie Yichen had sent two, about half an hour ago: 【You’ve already left?】

Xie Yichen: 【Without a word?】

Ning Sui stared at the screen for a long moment, then typed back: 【Yeah. I thought Xu Zhou had already told you.】

Just one reply felt too pointed — like she was deliberately keeping distance. She steadied herself and added another line: 【I heard you’re at Yulong Snow Mountain?】

About five minutes later, Xie Yichen sent back a photo. The view from the summit.

Because of the altitude, it was a vast sweep of white — all snow. In the background you could just make out Zhang Yuge and Lin Shuyu bouncing happily in the distance, like SpongeBob and Patrick, grinning away without a care.

Ning Sui was suddenly reminded of when Ning Deyan had taken her and Ning Yue to Beijing. They’d gotten access to Tsinghua University through a family contact, and it had been snowing that day. She and Ning Yue had gotten into a snowball fight on the field.

Ning Yue had been in second grade of primary school then — could barely keep his footing — and had almost gotten buried. He’d cried in rivers, snot and tears both, and before he could even wipe his face it had all frozen into two icy streaks.

Thinking of that made her miss home.

Seven days was just the right amount of time. Ning Sui genuinely wasn’t accustomed to being away from home for long stretches, and she wasn’t sure whether she’d adapt when the time came to be in Beijing.

The plane landed in Huai’an. Ning Sui asked Hu Ke’er to bring her luggage home for her — she’d come pick it up later.

Then she went straight to the city’s People’s Hospital by taxi.

Her grandmother had already been settled in properly by Xia Fanghui. Ning Sui hadn’t arrived too late; the old woman hadn’t thought about sleeping yet.

There was an oxygen tube across her nose, and her color was a little pale, but she was still visibly happy to see her.

Ning Sui looked at her grandmother’s condition and kept her expression perfectly ordinary — treating her just the same as always, as if she weren’t a patient at all.

The two of them sat together and chatted for a while.

Her grandmother complained that Xia Fanghui did nothing but lecture her all day and acted very high-handed. Ning Sui played the peacemaker, smiling and saying: that’s just her quick temper — surely you know that by now.

Back home afterward, Ning Deyan and Xia Fanghui were sprawled on the sofa watching some variety music program. The male singer on screen was hitting a note with full, desperate force. Ning Yue sat on a small stool off to the side, sunflower seeds in hand, the picture of an old man settling in for the evening.

Hearing the sound of her return, Xia Fanghui sprang up at once and came to take her luggage: “I figured the in-flight meal wouldn’t be great, so I made a bowl of noodles. They’re warming in the kitchen.”

A pause. “I also made slow-cooked ginseng and black-boned chicken soup for you. Make sure you drink it.”

She’d seen a traditional Chinese medicine doctor before, who said Ning Sui’s vital energy and blood circulation were deficient and she needed to nourish herself properly. So Xia Fanghui had been supplementing her nutrition from every angle. But since Xia Fanghui was the sort of person who threw herself into everything at a hundred and twenty percent, she had added a very aggressive quantity of medicinal herbs, and the little pot was nearly all dried roots and bark.

Seeing her carry out a crock of chicken soup from the kitchen, Ning Deyan looked over from a distance and couldn’t resist saying: “Are you trying to give the child a nosebleed in the middle of the night?”

Xia Fanghui shot him a look. He quickly fell silent.

When she wasn’t looking, he leaned toward Ning Sui and said quietly: “Sweetheart, use your judgment. Don’t force it down if it’s too much.”

Ning Sui blinked at him, then bowed her head and obediently began spooning up the soup.

The steam warmed her eyes. She drank quietly, the light, cheerful background music from the television playing on beside her.

This family of theirs wasn’t particularly wealthy — comfortably middle-class at best. But Xia Fanghui and Ning Deyan had always given Ning Sui the very best they could, rarely letting her feel any of the difficulties the family faced.

In the lower grades of primary school, when other children were still using hand-sharpened 2B pencils, she already had a Hello Kitty mechanical pencil with a click-to-advance eraser tip. When her classmates were using child-grade disposable cameras, her birthday present was already a fashionable flip phone with a heart-shaped design.

And even when her grandmother’s surgeries were running to two hundred thousand a year, they hadn’t said a word about it.

It wasn’t as though there hadn’t been rough patches. In Ning Sui’s second year of high school, Ning Deyan hit a setback in his career and it was Xia Fanghui’s salary that held the family together. The whole household’s luck seemed to go sour all at once — the two of them were constantly erupting into arguments, plates and bowls shattering, the house in absolute chaos.

After that stretch passed, everything gradually got better.

The memory still made Ning Sui a little uneasy. She’d once half-jokingly tested the waters with Ning Deyan: “I honestly thought you and Mom were going to divorce back then.”

He had said something she’d never forgotten.

— We won’t get divorced. Because we’re family. We weather the storms together.

Your mother and I made a promise: as long as this ship doesn’t sink, neither of us will ever leave the other.

Ning Sui was still sitting with that warmth when Xia Fanghui called for her. She responded and jogged into the room: “Mom, what is it?”

Xia Fanghui was holding Ning Yue’s children’s toy camera, and waved her over with an air of intrigue, then shut the door behind them.

“I think your little brother has a crush.”

Ning Sui saw her scrolling through Ning Yue’s phone and was knocked completely off balance: “Mom — you can’t just go through someone else’s private things like that.”

“Everything that fell off my body is mine. Privacy doesn’t enter into it.” Xia Fanghui met her disbelieving look with perfectly unruffled calm. “Just look at this. Come on.”

Ning Yue’s screen was open on the QQ home page, multiple chat windows stacked up. The profile picture at the very top appeared to be a girl’s. Twenty minutes ago, he had sent her a very pointed message: 【Do you want to hang out?】

“Thank goodness I checked, or who knows what could have happened.” Xia Fanghui clutched her chest as though bracing for collapse, her expression one of a person in profound, righteous anguish. “He’s only twelve. How could this happen — how could this be happening——”

Ning Sui was genuinely stunned, momentarily at a loss for words.

She really had not seen it coming. The little creature was playing quite a bold game for his age.

The two of them stared at each other in silent disbelief — and then, from the other end of the phone, a new red notification popped up with certainty: 【Sure! Just simplify, divide both numerator and denominator by 2ac.】