All the way up until the middle of August, Ning Sui was at home studying for the TOEFL on her own. Xia Fanghui had urged her to make the most of summer break and get as many certifications as possible; Ning Sui picked this one because it seemed like it would take the least amount of time.

Hu Ke’er still messaged her every day as usual. Recently, she and Xu Zhou had had a small falling-out — it turned out that she had happened to learn from a teacher that his family had actually been going through the immigration process, but this infuriating man hadn’t breathed a single word about it to her.

When she asked him why, he said it wasn’t settled yet, so there was nothing to say.

Nothing to say — Hu Ke’er felt he was treating her like an outsider. Xu Zhou felt she was blowing things out of proportion. But because Hu Ke’er was about to leave for Beijing, with a long-distance relationship spanning most of a year ahead of them, neither of them could quite bring themselves to take the argument anywhere serious.

Xia Fanghui, worried about sending Ning Sui off to Beijing alone, had talked Hu Ke’er’s parents into signing her up for the same volunteer activity. The two of them were in the same boat, booked on the same train.

With a few days left before departure, Ning Sui packed her luggage simply — two large suitcases.

But Xia Fanghui didn’t trust how she had packed, and went through everything herself to redo it all from scratch, adding a whole pile of extra items: cotton swabs and iodine, stainless steel cutlery, anti-noise earplugs, two silk-filled quilts. When it wouldn’t all fit into the suitcases, the quilts went into a brown cardboard box to be mailed directly to Beijing.

Ning Sui looked at the neat pile of boxes stacked in the apartment and fell quiet for a moment: “Mom, I’m just going to school, not relocating an entire dynasty.”

“……”

In any case, the summer quietly slipped to its tail end, and the unknown new chapter drew ever closer.

For the final two days, the family of four went to the ocean park together — all of them settling into a warm, tender mood that comes before a parting. Even Ning Yue’s usual mischief wasn’t mentioned; everyone simply took turns giving Ning Sui her instructions with gentle patience.

Ning Deyan said what he always said: “Sweetheart, get along well with your dormmates, don’t go out alone at night, stay safe. If you run into trouble with your studies, go to your professors; if you run into problems in life, talk to Mom and Dad. Don’t worry — the sky won’t fall.”

Ning Sui sipped her sugarcane juice unhurriedly and nodded.

The sun outside was brilliantly bright. Inside the venue was a massive glass tank filled with all manner of fish — Ning Sui thought it might be something like what Xie Yichen had described from that Arabic hotel, and she studied it with absorbed attention.

The creature pressed closest to the glass was a manta ray, its soft pectoral fins rippling through the water as it glided upward, nearly touching the tank’s side.

Ning Deyan shot Xia Fanghui a sideways glance, then leaned toward Ning Sui’s ear with a sly, hushed tone: “Of course, if you happen to find a nice boy along the way, it’s fine to give romance a try.”

The manta ray’s hard tail swept sharply through the water, sending a burst of bubbles trailing behind it. Ning Sui couldn’t help a soft cough — and at once, Xia Fanghui’s eyes swept over like a searchlight, fixing on Ning Deyan with unmistakable disapproval.

“What are you saying to her? Xiao Ye is only eighteen — she’s just become an adult. She can’t yet tell good from bad, and here you are encouraging her to fall for some boy. What if she meets someone awful?”

She turned and wrapped an arm gently around Ning Sui’s shoulders, her voice softening into something earnest and tender: “Sweetie, listen to Mom — this is not something to rush. Getting to know people is fine, but relationships aren’t something you stumble into casually. Take it slow, take your time, let things unfold naturally.”

Ning Deyan had sharp situational awareness. He rubbed his nose and muttered: “I wasn’t saying she had to start right now… and also, you should have a little faith in our Xiao Ye.”

Both Xia Fanghui and Ning Sui turned to look at him. Ning Deyan’s tone pivoted with great satisfaction, and he leaned in with pride: “After all, she’s grown up around exceptional and handsome men her whole life — she won’t be swept off her feet by just any young fool. At the very least, she’ll hold herself to the same standard as her father, won’t she? Your mom only fell for me because I’m tall, good-looking, emotionally intelligent, a great conversationalist, and multi-talented.”

Xia Fanghui: “……” Please be quiet.

After the three of them finished talking, they looked around — and Ning Yue had vanished.

A moment later, they spotted the little one a short distance away, excitedly grabbing the sleeve of a complete stranger and dragging the poor man off to see the sharks. The man was struggling desperately to break free, looking utterly helpless and pained in the way one only does with someone else’s child.

“?”

Three minutes later, Ning Yue was standing quietly with his hand held firmly by Ning Deyan: “I thought that uncle was you, Dad. I grabbed the wrong person.”

“……”

The day of departure was a bright, clear weekend. All four parents saw the two girls off to the train station with a seemingly endless stream of reminders and instructions.

Ning Sui and Hu Ke’er made their way through the gates, turning back every few steps.

The crowd around them surged like peak New Year rush-hour. Hu Ke’er glanced back one last time — until the figures could no longer be seen — then stuck out her tongue, letting out a breath that was equal parts relief and feeling.

That sensation of, it feels like freedom — but from now on, everything is on your own.

Ning Sui, by contrast, slipped into it easily. She bought some food for the journey, then guided Hu Ke’er through the ticketing gates.

The high-speed rail would take roughly four or five hours, arriving at around ten at night. The two of them had already made peace with passing the time watching variety shows and dramas — when Zhang Yuge messaged saying he and Lin Shuyu were on the same train. The four of them agreed to meet up in the dining car.

Those two had gotten there first. They hadn’t come for school activities — they simply wanted to explore Beijing on their own.

So they had a meal together. Weeks had passed since they’d last seen each other. Hu Ke’er scrutinized Zhang Yuge up and down and clicked her tongue: “Have you put on weight?”

Zhang Yuge smiled at her — though the smile didn’t reach his eyes: “You know which two things on your face look the best?”

Hu Ke’er: “?”

Zhang Yuge tilted his chin toward hers, pointedly.

Hu Ke’er: “……”

The two of them devoured the boxed meals they’d just ordered while trading jabs and nonsense. Ning Sui scrolled through her social media feed and looked up: “Where are you all planning to go?”

Lin Shuyu answered with enthusiasm: “The Forbidden City first, then Xiangshan and Nanluoguxiang. I heard there are tons of great food stalls there.”

He still had a soft spot for Ning Sui. Zhang Yuge figured he had no shot, and had even laid out the pros and cons for him — a girl like Ning Sui wouldn’t be won over by sheer cheerfulness and brash energy alone. But Lin Shuyu insisted it was love at first sight, and he had to at least try.

Ning Sui nodded, and at that moment Hu Ke’er cut in: “How come Xie Yichen didn’t come with you?”

Zhang Yuge said: “CEO Chen has been doing an internship at his family’s company lately. His dad wants him to shadow the employees and learn the ropes.”

The truth was, they had left early partly because Xie Yichen had been so impossibly busy lately — no matter how many times they tried to make plans, he couldn’t get away. They’d been kicking around Huai’an on their own, playing ball and running script murder games, and after a while it just felt pointless.

These past few days, Xie Yichen had been spending all his time at the family company. It wasn’t exactly an internship — more like helping out with miscellaneous tasks while getting a feel for how the company operated.

After two days of it, Xie Yichen came to think his father might have had some slightly inflated expectations. Being thrown into the deep end before he’d even finished his core coursework was essentially like playing the role of a gold-ranked player when you were still at the bronze level — only to find the opponent’s team made up entirely of grandmasters.

Provincial top scores weren’t gods. You still needed to learn.

That was how Xie Yichen saw it, at any rate — but the colleagues around him weren’t operating on the same wavelength.

His desk was just outside his father’s office — an ordinary cubicle, same as everyone else’s. If anyone stood up slightly, they could see him. As a result, some of the newer young employees, women in particular, kept finding reasons to stand up on the pretext of stretching — citing the need to move around.

What Xie Yichen didn’t know was that they were already talking about him amongst themselves.

— Why is the young master so handsome? Those eyes are stunning — must be Madam Qiu’s genes. He seems a bit reserved, but honestly that cool, aloof look is exactly my type. The fact that someone his age can already code at this level is remarkable — and apparently he’s this year’s provincial top scorer…

Sometimes when Xie Yichen went to the kitchen to get water, he’d catch those young female employees all turning to look at him in unison. But because he was genuinely the young master, none of them dared be too forward about it — they’d steal glances for a moment and then scatter.

He didn’t particularly mind. If he happened to make eye contact with someone, he’d give a brief nod in greeting. In his head, he was usually still thinking about whatever program he’d left half-finished.

Xie Zhenlin had been very occupied lately, and Xie Yichen tried to avoid going into his office unnecessarily.

Xie Zhenlin had recently been considering launching a blockchain platform. Cryptocurrency had been very popular these past two years, ICOs were increasingly common, and he wanted to ride the wave by incorporating blockchain technology into some of their products — achieving decentralization and encryption effects.

The management candidate had already been selected, but his mother-in-law had insisted he use her younger son instead.

Qiu Ruoyun’s younger brother was named Qiu Zhao — his major was Electronic Information, and he was currently running a small blockchain startup of his own, making him a reasonable professional match.

But Xie Zhenlin didn’t like the man. He struck him as someone with an inflated sense of his own importance who had too many opinions of his own — Xie Zhenlin wanted an obedient and capable assistant, not a relative whose feelings he’d have to manage.

Most critically, Qiu Zhao and Qiu Ruoyun were not particularly close.

Their family had been fairly well-off by the standards of the generation that came of age after the Reform and Opening Up — but their father had been a very old-fashioned man, deeply patriarchal, and Qiu Ruoyun had spent her childhood constantly having to defer to her younger brother. Her relationship with her father had always been distant.

After their father passed away from illness, Qiu Ruoyun struck out on her own and met Xie Zhenlin.

The old matriarch had perhaps seen how well her daughter and son-in-law’s careers were going, and decided she wanted them to give her younger son a boost.

Xie Yichen had no opinion on the matter.

Although his father had his reservations, Xie Yichen himself had never really spent time with this uncle, so he couldn’t form a judgment. But he guessed that his mother would ultimately give in.

The reason was simple: Qiu Ruoyun was an iron-willed woman, but in the end, the old matriarch was her mother — flesh and blood.

With the old man gone, the matriarch’s mental state had never been the same. She had even been admitted to a specialized care facility. During his third year of high school, Xie Yichen had chosen not to advance to the national team for the mathematics competition at the last moment — it had been to stay near and care for her. It was also from around that time that Xie Zhenlin began keeping a lower profile, afraid that any rival might use it to create trouble.

Of course there were caregivers and household staff — but when the matriarch’s emotions flared, no one could manage her. She had even injured herself with sharp objects.

Only when she saw her beloved grandson did she calm down.

Others assumed Xie Yichen had some special method. In truth, all he ever did was pull up his left sleeve and show her the scar there.

Grandmother, put the knife down. Hurting yourself is painful.

And it leaves ugly scars behind. Like mine.

Xie Yichen never made a fuss or lectured her, never told her what she could or couldn’t do — he always spoke gently, without boundaries, without restrictions. Even if she suggested they skip school together, he would calmly pick up his schoolbag.

Xie Yichen would be leaving for Beijing soon, and Qiu Ruoyun knew that the matriarch right now was like a powder keg — one spark and she’d blow. So when it came to smaller, inconsequential matters, they tried to give way wherever they could.

Sure enough — that day, when Xie Yichen arrived at the company, he saw Qiu Zhao walking out of Xie Zhenlin’s office.

Against all expectations, the two seemed to have parted on excellent terms. Both were all smiles, courteous and pleasant with each other.

On his way out, Qiu Zhao called out warmly to Xie Yichen: “A’Chen, come here — your uncle brought you a gift.”

It was the latest gaming controller — a limited edition, no less. You could tell it had taken some thought to pick out. You couldn’t bite the hand that fed you, so Xie Yichen thanked him politely and left it at that.

—

The “New Student Leaders” program ran for a week.

Ning Sui and Hu Ke’er moved into their respective undergraduate dormitories ahead of schedule. The days were filled with lectures, an introduction to Jing University’s rich history and culture, and getting to know the various teaching buildings and faculties.

There were also sports competitions, academic quiz events, and a cultural performance showcase — held with grand fanfare at Jing University’s Qiu Deba Gymnasium. The incoming students, gathered from every corner of the country, had never seen anything quite like it, and cheered themselves hoarse.

Several hundred incoming first-year students had arrived early. For ease of organization, they were temporarily grouped into summer camp class formations. Since Hu Ke’er and Ning Sui were in different departments, they were predictably not placed together.

Each class also held elections for student representatives. Ning Sui had no interest in the commotion — a girl who clearly knew how to get things done ended up being elected class leader.

Their class counselor was a senior in his fourth year, majoring in Finance — the same department as Lin Shuyu.

The senior was a warm, approachable person — happy to answer any question, and very considerate toward the girls in the group, always making sure the male students handled any heavy lifting during activities.

When he heard that Ning Sui was in the Mathematics Department, he offered to introduce her to the top-ranked student in their year in that department — even vouching: “We’re close friends. You can ask him anything about your coursework.”

So a meal was arranged at one of the nicer campus restaurants.

The mathematics top-ranker was equally impressive — and he asked if he could bring one more person along. The counselor mentioned it to Ning Sui, who of course had no objection.

When the time came, it turned out to be Lin Shuyu. And the other senior was also from Huai’an University — once everyone had made their introductions, they couldn’t help marveling: “It really is a small world.”

The senior’s name was Gao Che. He wore a pair of black-framed glasses and had the unmistakable air of a dedicated academic — his face seemed to have “theoretical type” written all over it. When the conversation turned to mathematics, he became visibly animated, gesturing enthusiastically.

Within a few minutes, he and Ning Sui were in perfect sync, deep in a genuine mathematical discussion: “Theoretically speaking, your tomato falling on the floor is still edible — because the point of tangency is unique.”

“That’s true, but you’d also have to account for the fact that it’s not a perfect sphere.”

“……”

On that note, Ning Sui found herself thinking, almost without meaning to, of the conversation she’d once had with Xie Yichen about sunflowers and nautilus shells.

For the past two weeks, he seemed to have been keeping busy at the company. They had chatted a few times in between, but their schedules rarely aligned — Xie Yichen was occupied during the day, and Ning Sui had activities in the evenings, so the conversations sometimes just trailed off mid-way.

After dinner, several classmates from the leaders’ cohort posted in the group chat saying they were heading to the sports field for barbecue and a game of Avalon.

Ning Sui said goodbye to Lin Shuyu and Gao Che, and went with the counselor to the meeting point.

The counselor made conversation along the way: “How are you finding Jing University, freshman?”

Ning Sui: “It’s great. I came here for a summer program in high school, and I already liked it back then.”

“Good, enjoy your university life — go out and explore. Don’t only focus on studying, or you’ll end up like me in fourth year, full of regrets.”

“Got it.” Ning Sui curved her lips.

True to the nature of a counselor, he turned curious quickly. His tone shifted with a hint of implication: “Do you have a boyfriend?”

Ning Sui startled slightly: “No.”

“That guy earlier seemed quite nice — you two looked pretty familiar with each other?”

He’d noticed how Lin Shuyu had been refilling her water and adding food to her plate throughout dinner, all very attentive. The counselor had the instincts of a matchmaking parent.

Ning Sui caught the note in his voice and replied warmly: “He’s alright. Just a friend.”

The counselor gave a sound of acknowledgment and didn’t press further.

He thought this girl had a very particular kind of presence. She wasn’t exactly introverted or quiet — and yet, every now and then, something unpredictable would come out of her. She was perceptive, but also not easy to get close to.

How to put it — she had a kind of grounded, unaffected quality about her, a certain clarity of spirit.

For instance, she had figured out early on that the student representative elections were essentially a trap for volunteering yourself into free labor. While the candidates were up on stage strategically campaigning for votes, she was down in the audience serenely cracking melon seeds.

……

By the time Ning Sui arrived at the sports field with the counselor, everyone was already seated in a circle.

They played a few rounds of Avalon, shared the barbecue together. Then a few classmates ran over to the nearby convenience store and came back with drinks, and they went around sharing stories. After a while, another round of Avalon. It went in cycles like that.

This was the last day of the new student leaders’ program — tomorrow was formal registration day — so the sports field was alive with activity.

It wasn’t just their class. Counselors from other classes had also brought their own groups out, everyone gathered into separate circles. Someone had brought their dormitory desk lamp. All across the field, different-colored lights flickered on, illuminating face after face bright with laughter.

“I’m telling you Bin-ge is on the good side, ha — last round he drew Morgana and his whole face went red, hahaha!”

“What about Li San?”

“Forget him. He looks shifty to me, I’m not calling him good no matter what.”

Someone across the circle protested: “Oh come on — so now it’s my fault for having an unfortunate face?”

The moon hung low between the trees. The street lamps along the edge of the sports field flickered and glowed. Some nameless small insect circled in and out of the light. It had rained a few days earlier, and the air still carried that fresh, damp coolness. They sat in the soft grass, and if you were lucky, your fingertips might brush against a fallen petal.

In the vibrant summer night, the bright, crisp song of the cicadas was the most fitting accompaniment to youth.

Around eleven o’clock, Xia Fanghui sent a WeChat message telling her to head back to the dorm — it wasn’t safe to be out so late. Ning Sui looked at the atmosphere around her, not wanting to seem antisocial, and sent a small lie in return: [Already back in the dorm, about to sleep.]

Xia Fanghui: [Okay, good night.]

Ning Sui’s heart relaxed. Beside her, a female classmate was recounting her love story, and everyone around her was listening, captivated.

Ning Sui let her guard down a little too much — and before she knew it, she stopped checking her phone. Not until nearly one in the morning, when the crowd had dispersed and she was walking back to the dormitory, did she look at her screen and find over twenty missed calls from Xia Fanghui.

She quietly exhaled.

How had she been caught out this time?

She opened the messages — and of course, there they were.

Xia Fanghui: [You didn’t go back to your dorm at all, did you? Where are you?]

Xia Fanghui: [I can see your location on my end — you’re not in the dorm.]

Xia Fanghui: [So now you’ve learned to lie to me?]

Xia Fanghui: [You’ve only been gone a few days and you’re acting like this — how am I supposed to trust you? Can’t you be a bit more responsible?]

Ning Sui hadn’t known until now: at some point, without her noticing, Xia Fanghui had quietly installed a location tracking app on her phone.

Looking back, Xia Fanghui had always been like this. Even in middle school, she had a habit of taking Ning Sui’s phone during afternoon naps to go through her chat records. If she found Ning Sui talking to a boy too often, she would come and question her about it as if she had every right to.

Later came the remarks about coming home late — no going out alone with boys, be back by eleven, no drinking, rule after rule.

After so many times, she had simply grown tired of it.

And a little exasperated.

A whole evening’s pleasant mood felt like sand falling through a sieve — worn away until almost nothing was left.

Ning Sui apologized to Xia Fanghui — as she always did. She chose to smooth things over.

[I’m sorry, Mom. It was a class activity. Everyone was there together.]

[I’m heading back now.]

Xia Fanghui was still sending message after message. Ning Sui closed the chat and took a moment to breathe.

Just then, a particular dark grey profile picture jumped into view. Ning Sui pressed her lips together, took a long, slow breath in — and the tightness in her chest eased just a little.

Xie Yichen: [Asleep yet?]

Ning Sui’s fingers rested on the screen for a few seconds.

Suisui Sui: [Can I call you?]

There was a brief pause on the other end — as if he hadn’t expected that — then the call came through almost immediately.

Ning Sui was still standing outside the dormitory building. Students from the field were gradually making their way back in ones and twos. She found a quieter side entrance, went through it, put in her earphones, and answered.

“Hello.”

The low, warm voice on the other end came through with a faint trace of static, like a breeze brushing softly against her ear. Ning Sui climbed the stairs and gave a quiet response.

Xie Yichen quickly caught the note in her voice: “Where are you?”

“Just got back to the dorm.” Ning Sui exhaled calmly. “A whole day of activities. I’m exhausted.”

She paused, then said plainly: “And in a bad mood.”

Xie Yichen listened to the dull, muffled sound of her footsteps. He didn’t ask her why she was in a bad mood. Instead, he said in a casual, unhurried way: “Let me ask you something first.”

Ning Sui paused: “Hmm?”

His tone was lazy and drawn-out — and somehow, entirely on its own, it managed to pull at something: “Dogs bark, cats meow, ducks quack — do you know what a chicken does?”

Ning Sui: “?”

“Opportunity knocks for those who are prepared.”

“……”

It was like being tickled without warning.

Ning Sui held out for two seconds, then let out a soft laugh despite herself: “What kind of terrible joke is that?”

Xie Yichen was laughing too, and she heard the faint sound of a key turning: “You’re back?”

Ning Sui: “Just got in.”

“Mm.” He seemed to think for a moment. “Is that the same bag you had at the arts alley the other day?”

The topic jumped so suddenly that Ning Sui couldn’t quite follow: “Yeah, why?”

“Have you noticed there’s a hidden inner pocket?”

Ning Sui had just stepped into the room and set the bag down on her desk.

Honestly, she hadn’t noticed at all.

She dug around inside for a moment, feeling the surface of the bag — there was something uneven under her fingers. With a strange feeling, she pulled open the zipper: “There really is a hidden pocket — there’s something inside——”

Her voice cut off.

Ning Sui pulled out a bag of green grape gummies from inside the backpack.

She lowered her head and stared at the slightly childlike cartoon packaging in her hand, perfectly still.

“The shopkeeper said little kids tend to like these.”

Xie Yichen’s voice still had that lazy, unhurried quality — but woven through his breath was a low, quiet laughter, fine and warm. “Didn’t think they’d actually come in handy.”