Hu Ke’er had always felt she was living a dramatic life. The various spectacular disasters she had stumbled into up to this point were almost never ones she had seen coming, and she wasn’t sure whether it was some kind of genetic predisposition — but she was either in the middle of a social catastrophe, or on the road to one.

— The story had to start from the time of their graduation trip.

They went to Australia, and it was a wonderful place. Just reading the itinerary, Hu Ke’er had felt brimming with anticipation. The one unfortunate detail was that the group had an odd number of people. If the boys and girls split up, the three girls would need one large triple room — but triple rooms were hard to book, and that would also mean separating two couples. Hu Ke’er had absolutely no interest in being a ten-billion-volt light bulb.

So for the entire ten-plus-day trip, they basically booked four double rooms. Everyone else was paired up, even Lin Shuyu and Zhang Yuge — and only Hu Ke’er had a room to herself, gazing out the window alone every night, cold and solitary.

Though Ning Sui did eventually abandon Xie Yichen and shuffled over to keep her company for two days, she still periodically dropped a blinding burst of secondhand sweetness, not intentionally, just naturally and without even realizing it. Hu Ke’er’s heart was still as water, and she was beginning to contemplate swearing off love entirely.

Thank goodness she still had her career.

Even while traveling, Hu Ke’er kept running her Flashying account — her small side account for browsing other people’s videos, and her main account for posting, where she filmed spontaneous street conversations with strangers in Australia.

That sort of thing could only be done by someone as socially fearless as her. Watching her follower count climb steadily higher, Hu Ke’er felt greatly comforted.

Those days, her phone was practically glued to her hand. Every day she was just filming, filming, filming.

Watching the autumn leaves — film it.

Feeding dolphins — film it.

Riding a hot air balloon — film it.

Cuddling a soft, fluffy koala — film it.

Zhang Yuge accidentally stepping in dog poop — film it.

Zhang Yuge’s beloved white sneakers now coated in brown unidentified viscous matter, jumping up and down in outrage: “Hu Ke’er! Could you not just hand me a tissue first before you start filming?!”

“No problem.”

Hu Ke’er answered cheerfully, then saved the video and hit send.

While they were in Melbourne, the group took a century-old steam train through the Dandenong Ranges. The seats were arranged sideways, and passengers could dangle their feet directly through the iron railings out into the open air. The surrounding forest was lush and dense, the mountain scenery quiet and beautiful, with waterfalls cascading down.

Hu Ke’er caught Xie Yichen in her peripheral vision, photographing Ning Sui from every possible angle.

It was fine. It was just a photo. She was strong. She could take selfies on her own.

At midday they visited the small town of Sassafras, which had many art galleries and wine tastings. As evening approached, they went to Penguin Island to watch the little penguins make their way home — the tiny creatures, not even reaching a person’s knee, waddled in groups along the boardwalk, and they were genuinely adorable.

Even hardened souls like Lin Shuyu and Zhang Yuge had their hearts melt, and they turned to the group’s resident encyclopedia: “Can we touch them?”

Xie Yichen: “No. They can’t pick up human scent.”

Lin Shuyu, curious: “Why?”

If a penguin mother cannot identify her chick by scent, she will abandon it.

Xie Yichen glanced at him, casual: “In simple terms — once you’ve touched one, it gets socially ostracized within its family.”

Lin Shuyu: “…”

The next day they visited a wildlife park, riding a cartoon-painted shuttle bus past a variety of wild animals: giraffes, elephants, lions, kangaroos — all present and accounted for.

On the last day before leaving Melbourne, the group decided to spend the day at the beach.

St Kilda was the premier seaside destination in south Melbourne, with a Ferris wheel right on the waterfront. It was a romantic place — even the street signs were pink, the palm trees swayed in thick, leafy fullness, and a row of bars and restaurants that only opened in the evening lined the street. Passersby carried bottles of orange soda, and elderly couples walked their small dogs in a leisurely stroll along the shore.

The blue-green sea stretched out without end. Small dogs ran freely on the sand, leaving trails of tiny paw prints like little plum blossoms.

Cui Xian and the others discovered a variety of exciting water activities along the beach — kayaking, surfing, sailing, and something called a “sea dragon,” where you stood upright on a jet-powered device, and if you maintained your balance, you could launch yourself into the air and hover above the water.

Ning Sui was somewhat interested, but having observed it carefully, she could tell it demanded a great deal of balance. The man in front of her had been trying for a long time, and every time he almost got airborne, he crashed back into the water, landing with a loud, unfortunate splash.

Ning Sui watched the man rise and fall, and couldn’t help sighing: “It looks like quite a challenge.”

“Still want to try it?” Xie Yichen studied her expression with mild amusement. “If you’re scared, we can go on a motorboat instead.”

Ning Sui swallowed guiltily and still said stubbornly: “…I didn’t say that.”

Xie Yichen laughed out loud beside her.

Her charm was precisely this — even when she was genuinely frightened, she always bolstered herself and never backed down from a challenge.

He was perfectly happy to try it alongside her.

So Hu Ke’er watched the two of them drift off hand in hand to go play it, still entangled with each other. If she was honest, she was also fairly interested in this “sea dragon” thing. She made her decision on the spot, bought a ticket, and followed them.

To be frank, apart from her sense of direction, Ning Sui’s balance was also genuinely not great. She had barely managed to stand up on the device before she was already pitching forward, and even the instructor couldn’t steady her. She trembled and retreated, raising her hand to announce: “Um — can I have a moment to mentally prepare?”

The instructor smiled and looked at Xie Yichen: “Let your boyfriend go first then. Once he gets the hang of it, I’ll come back and work with you.”

Ning Sui nodded obediently.

Xie Yichen, on the other hand, was entirely at ease — not remotely intimidated. Ning Sui watched him establish his balance with what looked like effortless ease, and even follow the instructor through a couple of aerial loops, thoroughly in control.

His learning ability was genuinely impressive. Within a rough grasp of the fundamentals, he was already going solo — floating in the air with steady confidence, even controlling the device to skim low and fast across the water’s surface.

He had dressed well today too. Waterproof fitted long trousers with a loose knee-length pair of shorts over them, all-black on top, wearing a very cool standing-collar windbreaker. Ning Sui found herself reaching for her phone without quite meaning to.

Xie Yichen had probably been out there about ten minutes before he came back. With him to model it first, Ning Sui felt considerably more settled, and the two of them each took a device and headed out together.

Taking advantage of the gap while those two were occupied, Hu Ke’er went to ride a motorboat at a quieter time, and once they’d had their fill and come back, she stepped in to take her turn.

Hu Ke’er was nothing like Ning Sui — she had nerves of steel, the type of person who heads straight for the roller coaster at an amusement park. Without waiting for the instructor to guide her, she observed, imitated, and strapped on the foot plates herself.

After a brief confirmation of the controls, Hu Ke’er charged in.

Maintaining balance at the start was genuinely difficult, and she fell into the water quite a few times, struggling to pull herself back up. Fortunately she was wearing a swimsuit, so being soaked through was no issue. Hu Ke’er didn’t give up, though — attempt after attempt, her technique visibly improved. She found it felt like learning to ride a bike as a child: hard at first, and then suddenly, somewhere in all the falling, you just got it.

The key was keeping your center of gravity on the midline. In other words — as long as your foundation was stable, you’d be fine.

Hu Ke’er felt her body growing lighter. She started attempting higher maneuvers, rising further into the air. A gentle breeze drifted across her cheeks. She could see the scattered figures of sunbathers on the beach below, and the small boats rocking gently across the surface of the sea.

At that point, a very beautiful yacht passed slowly along the coastline. Its white deck seemed to glow under the sunlight — pristine and immaculate. Hu Ke’er figured it probably belonged to some wealthy person out on a holiday, since the stern had a wide open-air deck fitted with two sun loungers, for easy access to swim whenever the mood struck.

She craned her neck but couldn’t make out the details, and instinctively maneuvered her device a little closer.

There were indeed two people reclining on those loungers. The one further away was a foreigner, carelessly dressed in a checkered shirt and beach shorts, swirling a glass of red wine with great leisure. The other — sitting closer — appeared to be an Asian man in a white dress shirt. Even from a distance, you could sense his excellent physique: broad shoulders, narrow waist, defined muscle along his arms, and a metal watch strap catching points of light at his wrist.

Hu Ke’er was absorbed in looking, not noticing she had risen several meters above the water, still leaning forward with great interest to peer at the person below.

The man crossed his long legs, and after a moment, unhurriedly removed his sunglasses and raised his eyes.

One below, one above — the two of them met each other’s gaze at almost the exact same moment.

Hu Ke’er’s legs gave an almost involuntary jolt. Her foundation wavered.

Was this real? How could she run into someone here?

Her mind lurched sharply. She did recall that Flashying had recently been expanding into Australia — so Du Junyuan was probably here to negotiate with a business partner, who had invited him out on the water.

But that pair of deep, dark eyes seemed to lock her in place — impossible to advance, impossible to retreat. Her immediate instinct was to flee, and she spun around at once, preparing to make her escape.

The foreigner, having watched him look upward for so long, leaned over with curiosity: “Du, what are you looking at?”

Hu Ke’er clearly heard a quiet, unhurried laugh from behind her, followed by a slow, deliberate drawl: “A UFO.”

A detonation went off in Hu Ke’er’s brain. Her feet buckled. She watched helplessly as she fell from midair, and with a resounding splash, landed in the water in a full starfish spread.

Wipeout #5

Little Hu: (crosses chest) Please just let me go in peace…