The words had barely left her mouth before, even over the still-reverberating music, both people across from them reacted — a barely perceptible pause.
In the brief silence that followed, the boy in the red jersey — who, despite his glasses, had a face too ruggedly unrestrained to be called refined — was the first to break with a laugh that he barely stifled.
“Now that I think about it, what you’re wearing today actually has that energy.”
The boy in red glanced sideways at his companion with what seemed like genuine consideration, then said: “Like a premium model who comes in fierce demand after a competitive selection process — highly cherished and revered.”
Xie Yichen leaned back in his chair with complete composure, cast him a sidelong look, and made no effort to respond. He clearly had no interest.
Hu Ke’er’s gaze darted between the two of them, and then she noticed that the red jersey boy had a blue-and-white school uniform jacket thrown over the top of it — the standard issue from Huai’an city schools: “— You’re both from Huai’an too?”
“What of it?” The boy noticed her gaze, glanced down at himself, and cottoned on. With a note of pleased surprise: “Is this a case of two people from the same hometown meeting far from home?”
Hu Ke’er didn’t answer directly, but her eyes drifted meaningfully toward the other person, hoping the one who’d said nothing so far might give some sign.
Xie Yichen lifted his gaze slightly and spoke: “We’re from Huai’an.”
“You’re not from No. 4 High School, are you?” Hu Ke’er’s eyes brightened a little. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”
“So you two are from No. 4?” Red Jersey felt she’d have been in serious trouble if she’d run into a con artist. She was just volunteering everything.
He studied the two girls from head to toe with undisguised curiosity, thinking to himself that this was remarkable luck — sharing a table and being seated across from two like this, each one more striking than the other.
The girl sitting across from Xie Yichen had dark hair and fair skin, with thick, long lashes. She was bright and sweetly pretty, the kind of person who seemed to emit her own glow even in dimly lit spaces like this. If Lin Shuyu and the others could see what they’d given up by splitting off, they’d be kicking themselves right now.
Hu Ke’er, unaware that this stranger had been internally critiquing her complete lack of wariness with strangers, thought the red jersey fellow looked like he might be slightly dim, so she saw no reason to hold back: “Yes — we just finished our college entrance exam. Are you both university students, or still in high school?”
“We just graduated too — from Huahua.” Red Jersey glanced to one side, as if talking to himself, his smile carrying a suggestion of deeper meaning. “No. 4 High School, huh. No wonder — now I understand why he wouldn’t know who she is.”
Hu Ke’er caught the implication immediately and looked at Xie Yichen with widened eyes, picking up the thread: “Are you very well-known at your school?”
At this, Red Jersey straightened up noticeably with an air of pride, as if he himself were the one who’d earned 721 points: “He’s the…”
“He’s our province’s top scholar this year.”
Ning Sui had been quiet up until this point. When she suddenly said this, it took Hu Ke’er several full seconds to process — and then she let out a shriek even louder than before: “NO WAY!!”
You’re Xie Yichen? The Xie Yichen who got all six CMO problems correct, who voluntarily withdrew from the national team, who scored near-perfect marks in combined sciences, English, and mathematics to become provincial top scholar?
These past weeks, Hu Ke’er had lost count of how many times she’d heard exactly those two sentences spoken.
Red Jersey adopted the expression of someone who had weathered great storms and seen everything there was to see — someone who had anticipated precisely this reaction: “Easy, easy.”
How could Hu Ke’er possibly be calm right now? Born for gossip, she’d been hearing about the provincial top scholar for the past couple of weeks until her ears had practically grown calluses, and every account promised someone who looked like he had no business being that attractive.
One look confirmed the accounts were accurate.
Dazzling, multicolored light swept back and forth. Emotions sank into the shadows. Xie Yichen glanced up at that moment and looked directly at Ning Sui. His expression was hard to read — there might have been the faintest trace of amusement in it — and the corners of his mouth curved into something that barely qualified as a smile, as if to say: ah, so you knew who I was.
The beat of the music was steady and insistent. Ning Sui’s slender fingertips traced the edge of her glass and then, almost imperceptibly, stilled.
Her lashes stirred slightly. Time seemed to stretch. Ning Sui held his gaze, raised the glass as though to drink, and took a small sip of water.
The two of them looked at each other. Red Jersey was wondering if the tempo of the background music had slowed, or whether the atmosphere had simply changed along with it.
He was about to say something, when the person beside him settled back in his chair and, in a lazy, unhurried voice: “Introduce yourselves.”
“I’m Xie Yichen. Xie as in gratitude. Yi as in standing firm. Chen as in sincerity.”
His eyes were exceptionally deep and beautiful — despite the air of nonchalant recklessness about him, when he looked at someone directly, his gaze was very focused, with an edge that couldn’t be ignored.
The candlelight on the table was reflected in his eyes, like a flame slowly swaying.
Xie Yichen rested his hand loosely on Red Jersey’s shoulder and said: “This is my friend. We’re in Dali for a graduation trip.”
Red Jersey promptly sat up straight, pushed up his glasses with great enthusiasm, and said: “Hello, ladies. I’m Zhang Yuge.”
Hu Ke’er nearly choked on her cocktail. Ning Sui’s water sloshed against the edge of her glass — Zhang what?!
The other party appeared to have anticipated this response and maintained a friendly, amiable smile while offering an explanation: “My parents chose this name with the meaning that even when the road ahead is strewn with thorns, one should still have the courage of a golden lance to face whatever comes.”
“I should also clarify, for the record, that I have never met Patrick Star or SpongeBob SquarePants.”
“HAHAHAHA —”
Hu Ke’er slapped the table, howling with laughter, nearly crying: “Your parents are genuinely one of a kind.”
“…” Zhang Yuge said with extremely theatrical heartbreak: “I know my name has a certain… comic element to it, but there’s no need to laugh quite that loudly, surely.”
He turned to seek some commiseration. Xie Yichen stretched out his long legs with total ease: “You deserve it — why were you calling out to them like that? Did they not have names?”
The beer they’d just ordered arrived quickly. Ning Sui watched as he used a bottle opener to flip the cap off with an effortless flick — a clean, practiced pop — the movement entirely fluid, the kind of ease that looked coolly impressive.
Her gaze lingered there a moment longer than it should have. And at that moment, Xie Yichen glanced up casually, tilting his chin slightly toward her: “Shouldn’t you reciprocate?”
He meant introductions.
Hu Ke’er was more than happy to oblige and rattled everything off all at once.
Besides their names and school, she’d been on the verge of also announcing that Ning Sui had done the mathematics competition and gotten into Peking University’s Mathematics Department with a score of 685 — but Ning Sui stopped her just in time: “We’re also in Dali on a graduation trip. What a coincidence.”
“Quite a coincidence.” Xie Yichen responded in an even, unhurried tone.
It was Zhang Yuge who asked, with genuine curiosity: “Which character is your Sui?”
“Hm?” Ning Sui paused before it registered. “The sui from suiyue — as in the passage of time.”
Hu Ke’er added: “She also has a younger brother called Ning Yue. Sui and Yue together — time passing.”
Ning Sui made no particular comment.
She tilted her head slightly and noticed it was raining outside. A fresh, damp greenness crept along the doorway. People on the street had all opened umbrellas in a scattered bloom of colors, and there was something particular in it — the sense of a world scrubbed clean by wind and rain.
“Are you two here by yourselves?” Zhang Yuge asked.
Hu Ke’er instinctively glanced at Xie Yichen: “— No.”
It wasn’t exactly the kind of thing to trumpet about, starting a relationship the moment the college exams were over, but she was straightforward about it anyway: “There are four of us. My boyfriend and his friend are here too.”
Her phrasing made it fairly easy to work out the respective situations of the two of them.
Zhang Yuge shot a brief sideways look at Ning Sui: “Ah, I see.”
It seemed the music had changed again. During a lull in the conversation, Hu Ke’er leaned close to Ning Sui and said in a low voice: “Actually — I think that Shen guy is a really good person. Very dependable.”
Ning Sui’s lashes moved: “Is he.”
She glanced across the table.
Xie Yichen had one hand propped against the table surface, drinking from his glass. His other hand’s knuckles were tapping a quiet, idle rhythm against the tabletop. His eyes were lightly lowered, the shadow beneath his lashes shifting with a pretty curve. Whether he’d heard any of that was unclear.
Hu Ke’er’s attention bounced back: “So are you two here just the two of you?”
Zhang Yuge replied: “Not exactly.”
Was their situation like the girls’? Hu Ke’er made a small sound of interest, then heard him continue: “There are a few other friends — they insisted on going to Erhai Lake first, so we split up and arranged to meet later at Shuanglang Ancient Town.”
The old town of Dali and Shuanglang were at opposite ends of the area. There had originally been six or seven of them traveling together, and there was no real reason to split up this way — but a certain “incident” had occurred.
The incident was, admittedly, a little awkward. A classmate of theirs, Sun Hao — from the class next door — had brought along a girl he’d been secretly in love with, hoping that the romantic setting would work in his favor. But from the moment she stepped off the plane, the girl made a beeline for Xie Yichen.
Sun Hao was furious but helpless. He insisted on splitting off with Lin Shuyu. Lin Shuyu was caught in the middle — both were good friends — and in the end it was Xie Yichen who proactively suggested that he and Zhang Yuge stay in the old town for a few extra days.
That left Lin Shuyu’s group of four: two boys, two girls, neatly paired up.
Having fewer people had its advantages. No need to account for everyone’s preferences at every turn. Zhang Yuge actually thought that breaking away from the bigger group to hang out just with Xie Yichen was quite good fun. The main thing was that this guy knew a lot and had seen a great deal — being with him meant you’d never be cheated or taken advantage of. And he could talk you through whatever caught your eye, even a flower on the side of the road.
“That’s a Meconopsis — part of the poppy family. Also called the dream flower. It grows in the harsh cold of the high plateau, where it endures quietly — it only blooms once in its entire lifetime.”
“That’s not a cantaloupe — that’s cactus fruit. Sweet with a clean finish, rich in fiber, cooling and fire-reducing.”
When a silverware shop owner started pushing aggressively for them to buy, Xie Yichen had coolly produced a lighter and said with perfect nonchalance: “If you’ll let me take a flame to it right here, I’ll take everything in your shop.”
“Sir, these red and green varieties of Qian Yan bodhi seeds — which dye shop produced that color, exactly? The vibrancy is quite something.”
They’d been staying here a few days already, and that morning he’d dragged Zhang Yuge out of bed to catch the sunrise at Longkan Pier — two grown men managing to turn it into something that felt, against all odds, quite meaningful.
…
It was getting late. Xu Zhou called Hu Ke’er asking when she was coming back, why she wasn’t at the hotel yet.
Hu Ke’er answered with just a touch of guilt in her voice: “I know — we’re heading back soon.”
It was approaching midnight — the start of a brand new day.
Zhang Yuge was the first to take out his phone and suggest: “We met by chance — that has to count for something. Should we exchange contact details?”
Seeing that Xie Yichen’s expression conveyed a complete absence of opinion either way, Ning Sui nodded: “Sure.”
Hu Ke’er’s eyes lit up even more: “Of course, definitely!”
Zhang Yuge noted her reaction with amusement and thought it was entirely understandable — after all, girls who wanted Xie Yichen’s contact information could have formed a line stretching all the way from Huai’an to Dali. These two were genuinely lucky tonight.
Exchanging numbers back and forth individually would be too complicated, so Zhang Yuge set up a group chat on the spot using a face-to-face function, and announced the entry code with great enthusiasm: “The password is 0726.”
Today’s date. He temporarily named the group that as well. Ning Sui was the last one to join. Among the names, only Hu Ke’er’s was familiar to her.
Zhang Yuge’s profile picture was a yellow tabby cat — plump and full of spirit, clearly one he kept himself.
His username was “Jin Ge,” followed by what seemed like a self-deprecating octopus emoji.
In front of that was a deep gray profile picture, minimalist and distinctive — you’d know at a glance who it belonged to. The username was just his own name, direct and entirely uncomplicated.
An unexpected windfall from this trip. Hu Ke’er’s fingers flew across the screen: “Added, added!”
Ning Sui looked at the chat for a moment without doing anything. After a beat she put her phone away and looked out the window at the rain falling like a curtain.
Zhang Yuge noticed: “Are you two heading back?”
“Mm.”
The rain had started sometime during the evening and was still going — not heavy, not light. They’d forgotten to bring umbrellas on the way out, and asking Shen Qing to bring them over felt like too much trouble.
“Where are you staying?” Ning Sui asked.
Hu Ke’er’s fingers, still on her phone, paused. She looked at Ning Sui with her eyes alone, as if asking: what exactly are you doing right now?
Ning Sui pressed her fingertips together lightly under the table and moved her gaze to the umbrella that Xie Yichen had hung casually over the back of his chair: “We didn’t bring one — just checking if we’re going the same way.”
Hu Ke’er thought: why is she suddenly playing coy about asking someone for a walk home? But then she figured it could work out well enough, and said nothing further.
In the dim light, the person sitting across from them seemed to look up, though he said nothing for the moment. It was Zhang Yuge who leaned over from the side and said the name of their hotel directly, without ceremony.
“That’s right next to ours, isn’t it?” Hu Ke’er was pleasantly surprised.
These were all the trendy, well-known hotels, clustered in the prime spots within the old town. The real estate in this neighborhood was precious, so there weren’t many of them, and it was perfectly natural to end up next door to one another.
The rain outside showed no sign of letting up. Ning Sui leaned slightly forward, two lengths of pale, slender knit-covered sleeves resting along the edge of the table.
She looked at Xie Yichen and asked: “Is that all right?”
The closeness brought their gazes into brief, unintended contact across the air.
Half of Xie Yichen’s face was swallowed by the dim light, his dark eyes like a pool of water with no visible bottom. After a moment he gave an unhurried nod, stood up with his jacket in hand, and said simply: “Let’s go.”
He was genuinely quite tall. Once Ning Sui stood up, she found that looking straight ahead, even with her chin slightly lifted, she barely reached the clean, well-defined line of his jaw — where the skin was closely shaved with not a trace of the sparse, careless stubble that most young men his age left unattended.
Xie Yichen had a quality umbrella in his hand — the kind with a certain weight and substance to it. Hu Ke’er noticed with her sharp eyes that the frosted handle had something engraved on it, and asked immediately out of curiosity: “Xie Yichen — what does that say?”
Zhang Yuge looked.
He knew the umbrella had been a gift from the team after Xie Yichen won an award, and the teacher had offered to let them have something engraved on it — some people wrote their mottoes, but Xie Yichen had simply put his surname initial, “X.” Everyone in class knew it, so it never got lost.
Before Xie Yichen could answer, Zhang Yuge jumped in, that familiar swell of pride returning: “This umbrella is a limited edition from the national training team.”
Hu Ke’er thought Xie Yichen was cool through and through — even the shape of his umbrella was this cool — and gave it an extra look or two.
As they stepped outside, rain was pouring heavily. Xie Yichen and Zhang Yuge each had an umbrella. Ordinarily the two girls would share one umbrella between them, but both umbrellas were small, and two young men both over one meter eighty were clearly going to be rather cramped sharing one.
When Xie Yichen opened his umbrella, Ning Sui happened to be standing right beside him and naturally fell within the sheltered range. She paused for a fraction of a second, and then said: “Thank you.”
In return she received a quiet, brief sound of acknowledgment.
The distance back was about fifteen minutes.
Walking in the rain beneath an umbrella was ordinarily a scene of gentle, intimate atmosphere. But Hu Ke’er and Zhang Yuge were conspicuously careful to maintain a wide distance from each other — like a small Mariana Trench had formed between them — which left the atmosphere slightly stiff. Both of their outer sleeves were getting wet where the umbrella couldn’t quite reach.
By comparison, Ning Sui had her small bag clutched to her chest and stayed half a step behind Xie Yichen, quietly following in his wake.
Xie Yichen held the umbrella steady, eyes forward, without turning to look at her.
Ning Sui had the impression that the umbrella might have been tilting slightly toward her side, but not wanting to get rained on, she instinctively stepped a little closer to him.
She quickly caught the scent drifting from him — impossible to pin down precisely, but something like the dry warmth of wood, deep earth, and sunlight all blended together. It made her thoughts drift somewhere for a moment.
In profile, his features were striking. The bridge of his nose was high, and when he wasn’t smiling, the line of his jaw looked sharp and cool. In the hazy veil of rain, there was something about him that felt entirely different from everything else.
“Xie Yichen.”
“Mm?”
His voice was unhurried and a little lazy. Ning Sui lowered her head, her lashes giving the softest flutter: “That X engraved on your umbrella — it’s the X you use to represent an unknown in an equation, isn’t it?”