Chen Die almost felt her heart stop for a moment before it began to beat violently again, getting faster and faster, her blood boiling from his words.

She gripped her phone tightly, “I’ll be right back.”

Wen Liang leaned against the car door, flicking away some cigarette ash, “You’re outside?”

“Yes, at the hospital.”

Wen Liang was startled, then laughed, the sound flowing low from his throat, both magnetic and deep. After laughing, he said softly, “Little girl, your heart is still too soft.”

Chen Die pressed her lips together, saying nothing.

Wen Liang spoke again, “Shall I come to pick you up?”

Chen Die had just hailed a taxi and quickly said, “No need, I’m in the car now. You go upstairs first, don’t stay in the wind. The door password is the same as my phone password.”

She had just recently changed to a password lock.

Chen Die pressed her hat brim lower as she sat in the taxi, not wanting to be recognized at this moment. She lowered her voice, “Go to Lifan New Garden.”

The driver stopped at the entrance to the complex.

There was a convenience store across the street. Chen Die paused, then walked into the store and picked up a few cans of beer.

The wind suddenly grew stronger on the way back.

Chen Die had initially been walking with her head down, hat pressed low, but eventually, her pace kept quickening. Her body was warm, her heart thumping, filled with an unusual feeling.

In the end, she couldn’t help but start running.

Chen Die had poor physical education grades when she was in school. The year after she finished her college entrance exams, Wen Liang took her to the seaside for a few days.

Wen Liang taught her to swim, but his teaching method was rough—he just threw her into the water to watch her desperately flail around. Only when she was really choking on water and coughing badly would Wen Liang casually reach out and lift her out by the waist. After she finished coughing, he would throw her back in. After several rounds, Chen Die finally learned to swim.

But her stamina was poor. She would run out of energy after swimming a short distance, and ultimately had to be helped back to shore by Wen Liang.

Chen Die sprinted all the way into the building, pressed the elevator button, rode up, and then ran to her door to enter the password.

She was still panting, her hair blown into a mess by the wind. Her hat had fallen off and was now in her hand, along with a bag of beer. The mask made her face damp as she breathed heavily, looking utterly disheveled.

Wen Liang sat on the sofa with a cigarette between his lips, turning his head at the sound.

He looked calm, his eyelids drooping then lifting, lazily looking her over from head to toe before slowly raising his eyebrows.

“You ran back?” he teased her.

Chen Die finally began to feel embarrassed. She raised her hand to smooth her messy hair, slowly changed her shoes, and entered the room, placing the bag of beer on the table.

“Is it okay that you’re not at the hospital?” Chen Die went over to draw the curtains, asking softly.

“It’s fine.” He leaned forward, flicking cigarette ash into the trash can, then leaned back, urging her, “Why don’t you come over here?”

“…Oh.” Chen Die moved over and sat in the single chair next to him.

“You bought beer too.” Wen Liang raised his chin, gesturing at the bags of beer.

“I thought you might want to drink, so I bought some.”

Wen Liang smiled, hooked the bag with his index finger, pulled open a can’s tab, extinguished his cigarette butt, and threw it in the trash. He tilted his head back and took a sip of beer.

His Adam’s apple moved up and down as the beer went down. He drank too quickly, and some beer spilled out, wetting the corner of his mouth, which he casually wiped.

Chen Die watched his movements, gently pressing her lips together, and also leaned forward to take a can. Just as she was about to open it, Wen Liang’s hand reached over.

Chen Die held the can body while Wen Liang, pressing against her fingers, opened it for her with one hand.

Chen Die cradled the can and took a sip, “I met Housekeeper Zhang at the hospital earlier.”

“Oh?”

“I… asked her about your mother.”

“Ah.” Wen Liang made a faint sigh of acknowledgment, took another sip of beer, and said indifferently, “That’s all from a long time ago.”

“I don’t have work tomorrow. If you want to drink, I can keep you company,” Chen Die said, looking at him.

Drowning sorrows in alcohol doesn’t help, but at least being drunk numbs you for a few hours.

Wen Liang raised his eyebrows, “What, so confident I won’t do anything to you?”

“Wen Liang.”

Chen Die frowned. His completely calm demeanor now was like a child determined not to cooperate, “You can be sad in front of me. You can even cry.”

“What do I have to be sad about? My mother died 19 years ago, and he lived long enough.”

Chen Die took a deep breath, “Then why did you come to wait outside my building today?”

Before she died, Shen Yunshu had told him, “There are some things in life that need to be persisted with.”

Wen Liang hadn’t quite understood it then, nor could he comprehend why, after everything that had happened between her and Wen Huaiyuan, she was still so certain that even if given another chance, she would choose the same path.

But perhaps because of that sentence, he was forever frozen at that age.

Wen Liang was nearly 30 now, yet still stubborn and unyielding, with a steel rod in his character. He had made himself into someone cold and hard.

He stared at Chen Die for a while.

Chen Die’s gaze was soft yet firm.

After a long moment, Wen Liang lifted the corner of his mouth, looking at the bottles and cans on the coffee table, “With just this little alcohol, you dare say you’ll keep me company?”

He had finally relented, no longer as tense as before. Chen Die let out a breath of relief and immediately took out her phone.

“I’ll order more to be delivered.”

“Order some food too. I haven’t had dinner yet,” Wen Liang said. “I’m hungry.”

“You’re drinking without eating?” Chen Die immediately snatched the beer can from his hand and glared at him, “What do you want to eat?”

Wen Liang was now surprisingly obedient, “Anything.”

“I’ll order some noodles. They can be delivered quickly.”

“Okay.”

Chen Die ordered a bowl of homestyle beef noodles and a few more cans of beer.

She had flown back to Yan City on today’s flight, and been sent back to her complex by Chen Shao, but before entering her apartment, received news of Wen Huaiyuan’s death, then rushed to the hospital—she hadn’t stopped all day.

Now she felt sticky with sweat, and her hair was tangled from the wind.

“I’m going to take a shower. Wait a bit,” Chen Die stood up, adding a final instruction, “Don’t drink yet. Eat dinner first, then drink.”

Wen Liang gave an “mm” in response.

Chen Die walked into the bedroom, the door closing gently behind her. Soon after, the sound of water came from the bathroom.

Wen Liang found his mind wandering with the sound of water but had no energy to get up. He lay back on the sofa and looked around Chen Die’s apartment.

Compared to the West Suburb Villa, this apartment certainly wasn’t as nice.

And because Chen Die’s work schedule was now so busy, the fresh flowers and plants she used to display were all gone, making the place look similarly lifeless.

But the sound of water from the bathroom was like a drumbeat tapping on Wen Liang’s heart, reviving him, making him feel alive again.

Chen Die didn’t shower for long.

She took a quick shower, washed her hair briefly, put on her clothes, and came out.

She wore soft slippers and a thick winter nightgown. Her black hair, only half-dried, hung down her back, dampening a patch of her nightgown.

Wen Liang leaned forward, grabbed the remote, and turned up the air conditioning in the room by a few degrees.

But just as he finished adjusting it, there was a sudden “beep” in the room, followed by complete darkness. The lights went out, and the air conditioning shut off automatically.

Chen Die was stunned for a moment, blinked, and then realized, “I think the power’s out.”

With her work requiring frequent flights to different places, she hadn’t remembered to pay her electricity bill on time. Chen Die took out her phone and opened an app, “Wait a moment, let me pay the bill first.”

After paying, they would still need to wait half an hour for power to be restored. Before the electricity came back on, the delivery arrived.

Chen Die was about to open the door but was stopped by Wen Liang, “I’ll go.”

He opened the door, took the delivery from the delivery person, sat on the sofa and took out the bowl of beef noodles and the packs of beer. The aroma immediately filled the air, steaming hot.

Chen Die brought out a scented candle from the inner room.

She looked down at Wen Liang, stretched out her hand, palm up, “Give me your lighter for a second.”

“Here.”

Chen Die took it and lit the scented candle.

A blue flame sprang up, instantly illuminating half of Chen Die’s face. The corner of her eye curved slightly like a small brush stroking Wen Liang’s heart.

The scented candle emitted a dim light, only illuminating a small area. Chen Die lowered her head slightly, her black hair sliding from her shoulder to her chest.

She held the candle cup, reaching forward to hand it to Wen Liang.

Wen Liang looked up at her but didn’t immediately take it.

Everything around was dark, with only Chen Die holding a cup of candlelight, creating a circle of illumination, like a goddess of light from a movie with special effects.

He suddenly laughed.

Chen Die asked, “What are you laughing at?”

“I’m lucky.”

“Hm?”

He said no more, taking the scented candle from Chen Die’s hand and placing it on the coffee table, then breaking apart the wooden chopsticks and bending down to eat the noodles.

Chen Die brought out a towel and sat down next to Wen Liang, drying her hair.

After the power went out, the warmth from the heater gradually cooled. The undried hair around her neck was cold and prickly.

Chen Die rubbed her hands together and breathed into them. Wen Liang reached out to grab her hand.

His palm was large enough to easily envelop Chen Die’s entire hand. Wen Liang looked down, as if finding this action completely natural, and placed her hand in his coat pocket, interlocking their fingers inside.

“What did Housekeeper Zhang tell you?” Wen Liang asked proactively.

Chen Die briefly recounted what Housekeeper Zhang had told her at the hospital.

Wen Liang finished the last bite of noodles, gathered the bowl and chopsticks, and tied up the bag, “That’s about right.”

Getting confirmation from him made Chen Die suddenly feel even more heartbroken. She held his hand and asked softly, “So do you hate Wen Huaiyuan?”

“I used to hate him, but now it doesn’t seem necessary anymore.”

In the face of life and death, past events dissipate.

Besides, Shen Yunshu had loved Wen Huaiyuan until her death.

Wen Liang pulled out another cigarette. The lighter had been misplaced after lighting the candle, so he raised his hand to feel around the sofa.

At that moment, there was another “beep.”

The power had come back on.

Wen Liang found the lighter and lit his cigarette.

He slowly exhaled a mouthful of smoke before speaking, “Before Wen Huaiyuan died, he called me alone into the hospital room. He could barely speak by then, his voice very faint, stumbling over his words.”

Chen Die listened quietly.

“He apologized to me, saying he was sorry for how he had treated my mother and me, but that he had no time left in this life to make amends.”

Chen Die suddenly didn’t want to hear him continue.

Wen Huaiyuan had dropped an apology and then departed. One person had already died over a decade ago, and now Wen Liang hearing this apology was far too late.

Such a proud person as Wen Liang had been subjected to looks of either pity or mockery for so long because of what happened.

Even Shen Yunshu had once thought of taking Wen Liang with her. Although she ultimately couldn’t bring herself to do it, it still caused him harm.

Chen Die couldn’t imagine how ten-year-old Wen Liang had made sense of this, even telling Shen Yunshu “It’s okay” at the end.

But why did it have to be this way?

Why did Wen Liang have to suffer these things?

She fell silent, quietly bringing two glasses and filling them with beer.

But just as she was about to drink, Wen Liang gripped her wrist. His finger hooked, easily snatching her glass, then raising an eyebrow at her, “You look like the one who needs to drown your sorrows.”

Chen Die looked at him, then turned away, lowering her head.

Her shoulders hunched, her whole person seeming to wilt, and then she raised her hand to cover her eyes.

“Chen Die,” Wen Liang called her.

She still kept her head down without speaking, not knowing if she was crying, but her breathing became increasingly unsteady.

Wen Liang reached out, using the back of his hand to lift her head. He sighed, “Lingling.”

Chen Die’s eyes were red, but she wasn’t crying.

“In your current state, you’ll get drunk and bite me again,” Wen Liang snorted, then drank both glasses of beer, throwing the remaining can directly into the trash.

He pulled Chen Die up by her arm and raised his hand to roughly tousle her wet hair, “Dry your hair first.”

“I’m leaving. You go get some sleep. Everything’s fine, don’t worry,” Wen Liang said.

Chen Die, red-eyed, couldn’t speak, only clenching her jaw tightly to lock in all her emotions.

Wen Liang looked at her for a while, then tapped her forehead with his knuckle and turned around, “I’m going.”

Chen Die watched his back.

He walked to the entrance, changed his shoes, then gripped the doorknob.

Every movement seemed to slow down in Chen Die’s eyes, each detail vividly imprinted in her mind.

She watched as his hand applied pressure, the doorknob gradually moving downward, the door about to open.

Chen Die suddenly rushed forward, opening her arms to tightly embrace him from behind, burying her face in his broad back.

Because of this action, Wen Liang paused. The door had just opened, but he closed it again.

Chen Die sniffled, hugging his waist more tightly, lowering her head but reverently saying, “Wen Liang, I’ll tell you what 9523 means.”

“What?” Wen Liang turned around.

“It’s the nine-key pinyin abbreviation of your name and mine. I’ve used this password since I was 16, all the way until now.”

She looked up, her eyes moist, embedded with undeniable admiration and longing, “I liked you, from when I was 16 until now. I like you so much.”

All the defenses that Chen Die had built in her heart during this time crumbled at this moment, shattering into ruins.

But she no longer needed them.

She didn’t want him to change anymore. She didn’t need Wen Liang to become gentle or kind, to transform into what society defined as the ideal man worth entrusting oneself to.

Wen Liang was just Wen Liang.

A good man by society’s definition wouldn’t bring a strange girl home, wouldn’t put a knife to someone’s throat just because she was hurt, and wouldn’t disregard any consequences just to seek revenge for her.

But Wen Liang would.

She only wanted Wen Liang.

Only when the destination was Wen Liang would the clamor and leaping in her body be so vibrant and alive.

Chen Die felt that only at this moment did her existence have meaning.

After Chen Die finished speaking, Wen Liang remained silent, showing no reaction.

The shame of a confession without response immediately made Chen Die’s face flush red, like a burning fire rushing up all at once.

She dared not look at Wen Liang anymore, but she also didn’t want to retreat into weakness once again, as she had countless times before.

So she simply hugged Wen Liang again, this time from the front, burying her face in his chest.

It was somewhat hot, though she wasn’t sure if it was her face or Wen Liang’s body that was warm.

After a moment, Wen Liang finally responded—he raised his right hand, loosely wrapped it around her waist, and hugged her back.

Suddenly, he laughed flamboyantly, like he had won a battle.

“You’re madly in love with me, aren’t you?” he asked with a smile.

How outrageous Wen Liang was.

Even at this moment, he had to maintain an absolute advantage, asking with casual confidence and composure.

He was certain he had Chen Die completely. In his world, he was king—arrogant, overweening, and unorthodox, beyond others’ interference.

But Chen Die had nowhere to hide. When she met Wen Liang at 16, she became his disciple.

She tightly clutched the hem of his clothes, nodded firmly, and said “Yes.”

Wen Liang smiled as if victorious.

Then he bent down and embraced Chen Die with equal force, the light outlining his profile with smooth, clean lines.

“Congratulations,” he whispered in her ear. “So am I.”

With those words, Chen Die burned like fire.

The moon had finally come to her.