Shang Zhitao had taken care of Luan Nian at his home for three consecutive days. The third day was Saturday, and she had scheduled a French lesson with her teacher. After getting up, she heard that Luan Nian was also awake, so she knocked on his door and asked from the doorway: “Luke, how are you? Are you feeling better today?”

“Improving.” The word “improving” were ambiguous, not clarifying whether he was actually better or not.

Shang Zhitao nodded: “Does improving mean the stone is about to pass? Isn’t it most painful when it’s about to come out?”

“It should be, but it varies from person to person.” Luan Nian opened the door, his face somewhat pale.

Shang Zhitao thought he looked truly pitiful and said: “Your complexion doesn’t look good. Let me stew a chicken for you as nourishment?” Over these few days, she had displayed all the few dishes she had learned to cook, all with tastes that were difficult to describe. But Luan Nian had forced himself to eat them all, showing rare empathy, unwilling to refuse her good intentions. Sometimes he would wonder, with oil, salt, soy sauce, Sichuan pepper, and oyster sauce—just those few seasonings—how she managed to get them wrong, either using too much of one or forgetting another altogether, resulting in nothing ever tasting good. Now, hearing her say she wanted to stew chicken, he shook his head: “I want to eat something else.”

“What else?”

“Seafood.” Afraid that Shang Zhitao would insist, he took out his phone and called a friend: “Can you send me a meal?” Then he began ordering. Shang Zhitao heard abalone, lobster, sea cucumber, and followed behind him: “You don’t seem to…” Shang Zhitao wanted to say he hadn’t recovered yet and shouldn’t eat these things.

“Shh.” Luan Nian placed his index finger to his lips, shushing her to keep quiet. After ordering the meal, he sat on the couch, looking like a sickly person.

Shang Zhitao sat beside him to discuss his condition: “The doctor said it would take one or two days at minimum, three or four at most. It should be out by now.”

“Mm.”

“So today should be about right.” Her finger pointed to his lower abdomen: “Do you feel anything?”

The area she pointed to was somewhat sensitive. Luan Nian looked down, realizing they were not looking at the same place at all, and coughed: “No.”

“Oh.”

After a while, Shang Zhitao asked him again: “Are you still in pain?”

“Intermittent pain.”

“Then do you think you can stay alone? I think you look much better than that day, so I can take Luke and leave. I have plans this weekend.”

“With whom? That ice hockey teacher?” Luan Nian asked her.

“How do you know I have a friend who teaches ice hockey?”

Luan Nian raised his eyebrows. How hard was it to know? What couldn’t be overheard in the company break room? That big-mouthed Lu Mi practically wanted everyone to know.

They were talking about Wan Jun. Initially, Shang Zhitao and Wan Jun maintained daily contact, and her attitude was positive. She didn’t dislike Wan Jun. Sun Yu had told her, “You keep turning him down; it looks like you’re stringing him along.” Although Shang Zhitao insisted on going Dutch, and she returned gifts of equal value whenever Wan Jun gave her presents, the time spent was also an intangible asset.

Shang Zhitao had considered starting a slow romance with Wan Jun; one should try different possibilities. But when Wan Jun visited her apartment for the first time and saw Luke, he showed disgust and told Shang Zhitao: “I don’t like dogs. If we date, we’ll have to give the dog away.”

A small life, just give it away like that? I had Luke before I even knew you. Who do you think you are? She blocked him that very day.

She had told this story to Lu Mi, who patted her shoulder in praise: “Well done! Today they tell you to give away your dog, tomorrow they tell you to send away your parents, and finally you’ll have to listen to everything they say. Good job blocking him.”

Shang Zhitao didn’t think Wan Jun would ask her to send away her parents, but she felt his refusal to accept Luke was hard for her to accept.

Luan Nian turned to look at her. Luke sat in front of them. Luan Nian’s expression was focused, as if wearing X-ray glasses, seeming to see through Shang Zhitao completely.

“Shang Zhitao.”

“Hmm?”

“You said that day that you wanted to take risks in your twenties.”

“Yes.”

“Are you willing to take another risk? With me.”

From the moment they parted at Victoria Harbour, Luan Nian felt he had lost something. What Shang Zhitao gave him happened to be the missing part within him, and that part was too precious. He couldn’t get it back. Luan Nian had always known he was quite flawed. He didn’t understand before, but now he wanted to try a new possibility.

Shang Zhitao looked at Luan Nian. That day at the bridge-bottom spicy crab restaurant, when he walked into that shabby eatery, it was like he had descended from heaven to earth. At that moment, she thought something might happen between them again. But Victoria Harbour was so beautiful, yet he didn’t take her hand. She had come to terms with it and wanted to move forward. During this time, she had met with men, tried dating, all to break free from that situation.

She couldn’t turn back.

“No.” She smiled at Luan Nian: “That’s not taking a risk, it’s just walking the same old path. I don’t like it.” She stood up and said to Luke: “Let’s go, time to go home.”

Leading Luke toward the door, the spring sunshine was so lovely. Luke squinted his eyes, very happy, thinking Shang Zhitao would take him for a walk and then return. When Shang Zhitao reached the entrance, the security captain greeted her: “Taking the dog for a walk, Miss Shang?”

Shang Zhitao stopped and asked him: “Do you know if anyone in this community makes fresh meat dog food?”

“Yes. Before the New Year, someone handed out advertisement flyers right here.”

So Luan Nian had taken a flyer and hadn’t thrown it away? Was he planning to get another dog, or did he know someone else who had a dog? What was he thinking? Shang Zhitao led Luke back, wanting to find out the truth.

Luan Nian opened the door, and she asked directly: “Do you still have the fresh meat dog food flyer?”

Luan Nian pointed to the shoe cabinet. She opened it and saw the flyer lying inside.

“Why did you keep this? You don’t have a dog.”

“In case Luke comes…”

Shang Zhitao grabbed his collar and kissed him. She didn’t want to hear him talk; he always spoke against his true feelings, making her upset. She felt that Luan Nian was worth pondering. His words were always the harshest, but his actions were gentle. For instance, he said he didn’t like Luke, yet bought so much food for Luke and treated him so well; he said she was stupid and he couldn’t be bothered to teach her, yet he had been teaching her since five years ago, never stopping, even after their relationship ended; he said he didn’t like her, but he took care of her, protected her. He had the worst mouth, but also a soft heart. Shang Zhitao understood this.

Her kiss was too eager; her teeth bit his lip, almost wanting to bite off his mouth that couldn’t speak properly. But even in her force, she felt tender. Her tongue replaced her teeth, softness replaced sharpness. This made Luan Nian’s hard heart leap with joy.

Her hand gripping his collar wouldn’t let go, nor would she let him retreat. He had invited her to take a risk together, and she had come. Her lips against his, it was hard to stay clear-headed, her breath hot: “Is this my adventure?”

Luan Nian pushed her against the wall, his body pressing against hers, his hand exploring under her blouse, somewhat violent: “Don’t back away.” The roughness of his palm heavily grazed her jade-like skin; his teeth bit her neck, his tongue pressing against it. Shang Zhitao let out a soft cry, arching her body to accommodate him, her chest rising and falling, separated by his hand, then pushed back against the wall. A dull pain shot through her back, and Shang Zhitao groaned. Luan Nian sealed her lips with his.

Her blouse was too much in the way. Luan Nian didn’t like it and used great force; buttons scattered all over the floor, frightening Luke, who jumped up and stared at them blankly, not understanding what they were doing at all.

With the sound of buttons hitting the floor, Shang Zhitao faced the wall, her back against his burning chest, completely defeated under the movement of his fingertips.

“Luan Nian…” she called his name, wanting him to enter.

The doorbell rang thoughtlessly, startling them both like birds from a bow. Shang Zhitao held her breath, their movements frozen together. She turned around and panted in his arms, feeling as if that breath caught in her chest couldn’t escape. She somewhat blamed him for provoking her, already forgetting that she had kissed him first. Tearing off the mask of self-restraint and politeness, she spoke with her first coquettish tone in over half a year: “Luan Nian…”

This call of “Luan Nian” was almost the death of him. He bent down and carried her upstairs in his arms. Shang Zhitao anxiously patted her chest: “The doorbell.”

“Fuck that!”

Luan Nian didn’t care about the doorbell. Right now, he only wanted to let his brother venture into Shang Zhitao’s body. He threw Shang Zhitao onto the bed, her blouse in disarray, revealing half of her snow-white, delicate shoulder. Luan Nian’s gaze looked as if he would devour her. Shang Zhitao suddenly shrank back to the headboard, but his hand caught her ankle, finally pulling her beneath him.

At the deepest point, Shang Zhitao’s toes curled, her eyes misty as she called his name: “Luan Nian.”

“I’m here.” He responded to her, his voice trembling due to his fierce movements. He knew her body well, knew which parts she feared most, and wherever she feared, he thrust there. The moisture grew thicker, and Shang Zhitao collapsed in a flash of light.

Thoroughly.

Luan Nian caught his breath and picked up the phone to see five or six missed calls and many messages: “Wasn’t it the seafood delivery? Where is it?”

“The delivery person left it at your door, Please collect it yourself.”

Luan Nian took a shower, casually put on clothes, and went downstairs to get the seafood containers—five boxes of fresh seafood in total. He entered the house and prepared the soup base, wanting to have a seafood hot pot.

Behind him stood an enlightened Shang Zhitao: “Luan Nian, your stone… has it passed?”

Luan Nian had his back to her, his expression changing slightly. After a moment, he said: “I don’t know. But I don’t feel uncomfortable anymore.”

He hadn’t foreseen that one day he would employ a self-inflicted injury scheme to get what he wanted. Initially, the reason was simple—he wanted to spend more time with her. Spending more time together, he grew greedy. He wanted to take a risk with her.

Luan Nian felt that in his past thirty-some years, he might not have truly experienced any real color in life. After meeting Shang Zhitao, he began to accept human diversity, started to see the smoke and fire of most people’s lives, began to understand human weaknesses and true desires. Victoria Harbour’s night scene was beautiful; he should have said some romantic words, but he was selfish and pushed her away. Looking back now, he realized his absurdity.

Luan Nian had never been straightforward; he would use any means to achieve his goals. He had stolen her key and had also feigned illness. As a man, he could bend and stretch, and didn’t find it shameful. But today’s feigned illness was different from that year’s key theft. At that time, he only liked her body, perhaps liked her as a person, but not deeply; while now, he wanted to be with her, to properly take a risk, to see if there could still be something different between them.

In matters of emotion, there is no good or bad, right or wrong, only about where two people want to go. This time, Luan Nian had turned the wheel, driving toward Shang Zhitao.

Shang Zhitao embraced his waist from behind, reproachful yet with a hint of tenderness: “Passing the stone is a good thing, but concealing it is wrong. How can you be so scheming?”

While sorting the seafood, Luan Nian said: “Men, are any of them truly good?”