After returning from Dali, Xie Yichen spent a few days at his uncle’s home.

— Xie Zhenlin and Qiu Ruoyun had gone off on another work trip somewhere; it would be a while before they were back. He had no interest in sitting alone in an empty house.

His cousin Xie Kuan was two years older than him and was currently enjoying his summer break between his second year of university. Since he was studying finance, he had casually landed an internship at a local securities firm.

But because he did everything half-heartedly, he was also deeply indifferent to this internship — here one day, gone two days, seizing any chance to hole up in his room gaming or video-calling his girlfriend.

His thoroughly uncommitted performance drove Qin Shufen to the brink of violence: “That firm only took you on as a favor to your father. If you get yourself thrown out, don’t expect us to go crawling back to beg for you.”

But Xie Kuan had the hide of a rhinoceros. He said, unperturbed: “Then don’t crawl. Let me float freely in my pond.”

“……”

Having such a comparison available, Qin Shufen had an especially soft spot for Xie Yichen.

Though Xie Yichen also understood that his aunt was fundamentally a businesswoman, sharp in all things — she tallied every account clearly. One moment she had him teaching Tiantian mathematics; the next she was putting him to work chatting on some social application.

In the afternoon, Zhang Yuge and Lin Shuyu invited him to play squash. The exertion had been significant enough that by evening his muscles still ached faintly.

Qin Shufen had set up a private bedroom for Xie Yichen, as well-appointed as Xie Kuan’s, and with a large balcony attached. He showered and got into bed quickly.

He was just about to put down his phone and sleep when an unknown number lit up the screen.

Xie Yichen, his hair still damp, sat up against the headboard. He looked at it in silence for a moment, then pressed decline.

This time the number didn’t press on relentlessly or send pages of text messages to wear him down. Xie Yichen hadn’t given it much thought — but when he went back home the next day during the afternoon to pick something up, he walked right into her in person at the villa.

Zhang Yue was dressed impeccably. She was at the sunlit tabletop on the balcony, arranging flowers for Xie Zhenlin, the two of them talking and laughing. She hadn’t noticed Xie Yichen standing there with his bag, watching them for a moment.

It was Zhang Yue who spotted him first. Her expression flickered in surprise, then she composed herself into a gracious smile: “Yichen’s home? I thought you were staying at your uncle’s today.”

Xie Yichen folded his arms and leaned against the balcony doorway, casual and unhurried: “Hello, Auntie Zhang.”

He didn’t acknowledge the first part of what she’d said. But Zhang Yue was quite used to this kind of response and moved on naturally, stepping closer: “How was Dali? Your father sent me photos — the scenery looked beautiful.”

“Mm, quite good.”

Only then did Xie Yichen turn toward Xie Zhenlin and gave him a lazy “Dad.”

Xie Zhenlin looked at him and immediately understood: he’d annoyed his son.

He hadn’t planned for Xie Yichen to find out. He’d thought he’d be here for just one day and gone before that could happen. He hadn’t expected to be caught in the act.

Xie Zhenlin spoke in an even, unhurried tone: “Have you got your things at your uncle’s?”

“Mm.” Xie Yichen studied him. “Finished with everything now? Getting a moment’s rest?”

“Not quite.” Xie Zhenlin paused briefly. “Probably next week — around Tuesday, I think. You can come by the company with me.”

Their business was in SaaS — enterprise software solutions targeting B2B clients, helping companies manage data and intelligent operations more efficiently. Since developing a dedicated IT system in-house is costly, businesses often preferred to outsource to a specialized third party like them, where existing modules meant higher efficiency.

Working with enterprise clients also had another advantage: no exposure to end consumers on the market, which meant relatively low public name recognition — but which also meant quietly printing money without anyone else watching.

Xie Yichen understood his father wasn’t really asking him. He gave a mild nod to signal he’d heard.

Liu Ayi, their housekeeper, was nowhere to be seen — she had clearly taken herself to her room with excellent judgment.

At that moment, Zhang Yue moved familiarly into the kitchen to fetch fruit. She washed it, cut it onto a plate, and brought it out for Xie Yichen: “Come, Yichen — try some. They’re fresh.”

Watching him eat a couple of pieces, she asked: “Since we’ve happened to run into each other, why not all have lunch together?”

Xie Yichen glanced at Xie Zhenlin. Xie Zhenlin said quickly: “Don’t worry about him — he has his own plans.”

He sent Zhang Yue to go sit in the living room and watch television, then pulled Xie Yichen into the room with him.

Once the door was closed, Xie Zhenlin paused briefly and said: “A’Chen, the reason I didn’t tell you I was coming back last night is that I’m only here for the day and leaving again right after.”

One day back, and he’d seen Zhang Yue first rather than him. Better if he’d said nothing at all.

Xie Yichen bowed his head with a quiet laugh, though his mouth held no curve: “Mm. Understood.”

Seeing the look on his face, Xie Zhenlin sighed. “I’ve been neglecting you lately, I know. How about this — after next week, when your mother’s back too, the three of us take some time and go abroad together.”

And bring a journalist along, take some photos of one happy, picture-perfect family?

The room had a low tea table and tea set. Xie Yichen picked up one of the small, delicate clay cups and turned it idly in his palm.

“You can pick the destination — Turkey and Switzerland? Or somewhere domestic, Hong Kong and Macau?”

Xie Zhenlin looked genuinely tired — the pressure of running a company had left its mark on him. Xie Yichen had been about to say something, but pressed it down.

“No need for a trip. I’ll be heading to Beijing in a few weeks anyway.” He lifted his eyes and spoke with quiet directness: “There’s actually something I need to sort out with you again.”

Xie Zhenlin: “Go ahead.”

Xie Yichen smiled lightly: “You and my mother have built whatever kind of marriage you’ve chosen, and even though I don’t agree with it, I’ve come to accept it. That’s my way of respecting you. But I’d like you to respect me in return — don’t bring people in front of me anymore, and don’t send them to find me.”

He set the small cup back on the table and raised an eyebrow with calm deliberateness: “Otherwise, the next time there’s an interview, I genuinely won’t be able to smile.”

Xie Zhenlin knew he was in the wrong. He didn’t take offense at the pointed, veiled sarcasm and said, in good temper: “Fine. That won’t happen again.”

“Auntie Zhang just has an enthusiastic nature. I’ll have a word with her afterward, and I’ll find an opportunity to mention something to your mother as well… As for you — if there’s anything you need with school or daily life, just say so.”

Xie Yichen leaned back on the sofa, his expression noncommittal.

They talked idly for a while. Then Xie Zhenlin thought of something: “By the way — Du Junnian came to me looking to borrow money. Should I lend it?”

This was the cousin who made short-form videos — the one he’d mentioned to Ning Sui before. Xie Yichen was taken aback: “What happened to him?”

“He says his company was picked up by one of the big internet players, but he doesn’t want to sell. So the other party went after the earlier VC shareholders, trying to force a hostile takeover and push him out of management. Du Junnian wants me to come in as an investor, a few million, to help him hold onto the controlling stake.”

Xie Zhenlin looked at him: “Have you used his app? What’s your read on it? I’m generally reluctant to get tangled up with family when it comes to business. When the time comes to divide interests, things get murky, and if something goes wrong there’s nothing you can do but swallow it.”

His father was the archetype of the businessman’s mindset — even more so than Qin Shufen.

Xie Yichen answered objectively: “I think the model is genuinely novel, and it’s already carved out a meaningful share of the market — the momentum is strong. The major players trying to copy this model from scratch would have a hard time, which is exactly why they’d rather just acquire the real thing.”

He paused for a moment. “My cousin is reliable and responsible. I think his judgment is sharp. I’d trust him.”

There was some personal sentiment involved — the two of them had grown up playing together — and that kind of bias was natural. Xie Zhenlin was still leaning against investing: “Let me think about it.”

They didn’t talk much longer. Xie Zhenlin still had an afternoon flight to catch, and glanced at his watch: “I brought you some small things back from Chaozhou. They’re in the living room — remember to go open them.”

As he turned to open the door and walk out, Xie Yichen suddenly called out to him: “Dad.”

“Mm?”

He looked up without any particular feeling in his expression: “Honestly — do you think this is a good way to live?”

Xie Zhenlin turned and looked at him steadily, without speaking for a moment.

His son had grown up without him noticing. He was taller than him now, with sharp, striking features — inheriting the very finest qualities from both him and Ruoyun. Xie Yichen was far more mature than other boys his age, but what Xie Zhenlin admired most was that look in his eyes — the audacity of youth, the willingness to ask how high the sky and how deep the sea, and the edges and corners of him that the world hadn’t yet worn down.

And so Xie Zhenlin always spoke to him as an equal.

He exhaled quietly: “A’Chen, I know you’ve never approved of the way your mother and I live. But you should understand — building a partnership based on shared interest is far more durable than being bound together by love.”

“No love lasts forever. When we got married, we had an open, honest conversation about this and reached an agreement. An open marriage.”

“You might feel that your mother and I are emotionally distant from each other. But the truth is she is an important family member to me, and we would never betray each other regardless of what happened. I can promise you — this family will always remain what it was from the beginning.”

“……”

After Xie Zhenlin left with Zhang Yue, Xie Yichen sat out on the second-floor balcony gazing down at the small garden below, his thoughts drifting.

Xie Zhenlin and Qiu Ruoyun had always been, in their way, extremely open-minded parents. Whenever Xie Yichen got into trouble at school, neither of them would blindly take the teacher’s word or another parent’s account — they’d let Xie Yichen speak for himself, then work through the rights and wrongs together.

Xie Zhenlin had told him early on: every person has the right to choose the life they want. Don’t be too quick to judge others, and don’t let timidity stop you from becoming who you want to be.

Making mistakes is entirely normal — we are all only human.

Even when you do make mistakes, you must have the courage to get back up.

Xie Yichen understood that his parents were both driven people — formidable in their own right — who had found in each other a shared vision, and from that had grown the idea of building a family and a business together.

He had discovered the nature of their open marriage on his own, in middle school.

In the early years, the two of them had kept things relatively warm and low-key, never putting anything out in the open, and had been careful to maintain the appearance of a happy family of three in front of him.

Later, probably because they felt he was old enough to understand, they stopped bothering. Things began to shift at home — unfamiliar objects belonging to other people started to appear.

Xie Yichen went to his mother and asked what was happening. The couple sat him down and told him everything, openly and directly.

At the time he found it rather harsh. But later he thought it might have been some kind of thoughtfulness on his parents’ part — because having witnessed something like this, he would face the world’s absurdities with a far steadier heart than most people.

The afternoon sunlight was slow and drowsy. Xie Yichen leaned back on the soft sofa cushions, raised his left arm, and studied the long, prominent scar with quiet attention.

It had faded considerably since all those years ago — now only a faint mark remained.

Only Zhang Yuge knew something of the story behind this scar, but what he knew wasn’t the whole of it. He assumed it had happened when Xie Yichen’s parents struck him during a fight.

In reality: Qiu Ruoyun had once been photographed after a date by a journalist. The photos circulated in a limited way online, damaging the company’s reputation and causing the loss of a client worth hundreds of millions at the time. That had triggered an explosive argument between his parents. In the heat of the moment, a large ceramic vase was smashed.

Xie Yichen had simply been collateral damage.

He was right there at the time — he’d been trying to pull them apart — and when the shards rained down, one of them caught his arm.

The blood came immediately. Fortunately, Xie Zhenlin and Qiu Ruoyun were both calm enough to apply pressure and get him to the hospital without delay. The final count was about six stitches.

After that, his parents never fought again.

The injury had looked frightening at the time, but the pain didn’t last.

When he thought about it carefully — Xie Zhenlin and Qiu Ruoyun had actually been quite good to him.

Money was never a constraint. They unconditionally supported whatever he cared about. And they were both open-minded and reasonable.

Except for forgetting his birthday, giving him less love and less of their time, and the fact that this marriage that appeared so perfect to the outside world had other people in it — as parents, they had done as much as anyone could ask.

Xie Yichen talked himself into acceptance in a few sentences, as he always did. It was around noon; he was getting hungry. He went downstairs to the dining room where Liu Ayi had already finished cooking and was carrying the plates out from the kitchen with a warm smile.

She was one of the household’s long-time staff — she knew well what was and wasn’t her place to say. The two of them sat down together and finished the meal in comfortable companionship. Then a message came in from Zhang Yuge in their group chat of three, asking if he was up for a game that afternoon.

Xie Yichen: 【Didn’t we just play yesterday?】

Jin Ge: 【That was squash, not basketball!】

Kuge Lin: 【Isn’t Gaohua locked for renovation right now?】

Kuge Lin: 【I think they’re rebuilding a teaching block.】

Jin Ge: 【We can play at Huai’an University — the courts are bigger there. Plus I just got new basketball shoes haha 😎】

Xie Yichen typed back lazily: 【Can’t. Something to do this afternoon.】

Jin Ge: 【So heartless……】

Jin Ge: 【Don’t tell me you threw your back out yesterday and you’re making excuses not to come 🐶】

Xie Yichen was still feeling the squash session in his body — it really had been a while.

Yesterday they’d booked a court. A couple of girls outside kept staring through the glass the entire time. Xie Yichen had only stepped out once, and they were immediately on him asking for his WeChat. He’d gone back in and simply buried his head in the game for three hours straight.

In the end it was his patience that won — he outlasted them.

So for now, Xie Yichen had little interest in moving much — but he did have something to do that afternoon.

Throughout high school, Xie Yichen had been a member of the Axis laboratory — a collaborative initiative founded by the top three secondary schools in Huai’an and Huai’an University, focused on developing intelligent robots. The initial version of the VE model had actually been put together by him and a few other high school students.

That afternoon he’d arranged to meet with his faculty advisor and some students from the Fourth High School to work on the development plan for version 2.0.

Since the first prototype had been brought over to the Fourth High School’s lab by one of his classmates, they were meeting there directly.

—

Ning Sui had originally arranged with Yu Zhiguo to come by near the end of August, when the Fourth High School was almost back in session, so he could walk her through some university-level content. But Xia Fanghui had insisted she sign up for Beijing University’s incoming leadership orientation program, so she had no choice but to go apologize to Yu Zhiguo in person.

She thought it was a lost cause — but Yu Zhiguo, still sympathetic, arranged an earlier time instead. He picked a free weekend before her departure and told her to bring her Beijing University mathematics textbooks to school.

He also mentioned that over the summer the school had renovated the top two floors of one of the teaching blocks — everything fresh and new now — and she could take a look while she was there.

They had agreed on two in the afternoon. Ning Sui arrived about fifteen minutes early, making her way in through the school gate at an unhurried pace.

As she walked in, she noticed there were still some boys training on the basketball court — all in matching sports uniforms, arms and shoulders moving with the energy of youth, running back and forth on the court in a full sweat.

Ah, to be young.

Ning Sui swept a glance and moved on, heading with practiced familiarity to the fourth floor of the teaching block, where she knocked on Yu Zhiguo’s office door.

The old man hadn’t arrived yet. Ning Sui sat down to scroll through WeChat.

Hu Ke’er had sent her a message: 【[image]】

Paopao Ke: 【Look what I found 😈】

It was a candid basketball photo, slightly blurry. She could just make out a large, broad-shouldered figure in a red jersey.

Sui Sui Sui: 【?】

Paopao Ke: 【I came to Huai’an University to see my dad and happened to spot 🐙 and Lin Shuyu playing ball】

Paopao Ke: 【I was like, why does that jersey look so familiar — turns out it’s Zhang Yuge, that little sneaky 😂😂😂】

Hu Ke’er sent over a screenshot from the “Green Fruit” mini-program, and sure enough it was the same jersey — even the number on the back matched. Looking more carefully, the side-profile photo in the golden light was also unmistakably the same person.

She was practically howling: 【Zhang Yuge, that absolute fraud. Said his own score is 640 but requires 680, lists his school as Beijing University — I’m dead 😂😂】

Ning Sui scanned the profile screenshot Hu Ke’er had sent. It had some information filled in rather casually — personality description, hobbies, favorite films and songs.

“……”

Why did this feel so… familiar?

Before she could reply, Hu Ke’er had already fired off a new idea: 【Sui, you should make an account — pretend you’re a stranger and go chat him up. I bet it’d be hilarious 😂🤭】