The cake and burning candles from that night became the most indelible mark in the fresh new memories of Yunque’s seventeenth birthday.

Not only did she hear Lu Rangchen wish her a happy birthday with her own ears — she also made a wish, urged on by him.

The candles didn’t burn long.

So Yunque wished for only one thing.

She wished that next year on her birthday, Lu Rangchen would still be there.

Having made that seemingly effortless wish, Yunque blew out the candles.

Lu Rangchen cut the cake for her and balanced it on the armrest of her chair so it would be easy to eat.

Yunque didn’t have much of an appetite, but because he had prepared it, she dutifully picked up the plastic fork.

Lu Rangchen also ate a slice.

He wasn’t as easy to coax as Yunque — one bite in, and he was already frowning.

It was terrible.

He simply decided not to let Yunque eat any more of it.

Yunque held him off. “You can’t waste food.”

Lu Rangchen was amused enough to tug the corner of his mouth upward. “You’re quite the economical little thing.”

Yunque pretended not to hear and finished what remained, then turned and carefully wiped the cream from the corner of her mouth with a paper napkin.

Looking like she might not have had enough, Lu Rangchen reached over and pulled the bag of snacks closer, placing it on the empty seat beside her.

Yunque blinked. “For me?”

“Who else,” Lu Rangchen said, lifting his eyes briefly. “I don’t eat that sort of thing.”

The young man’s voice was lazily unhurried, and the magnetic pull in the set of his brow and eyes built up effortlessly without his even trying.

Yunque suddenly felt a warmth that was rather beyond what she’d expected.

She glanced into the bag. None of it was cheap — there was a tin of butter cookies and a box of Ferrero Rocher chocolates.

She was quiet for a moment, then said thank you.

Lu Rangchen let his gaze rest on her for a moment, as though he were about to say something. But before the words could come, his mother, Cheng Liru, called.

They were close enough that Yunque recognized the voice.

Lu Rangchen kept his eyes on the smooth floor, eyelids lowered, looking fatigued. He gave a low sound of acknowledgment and said he’d be back once he’d packed up.

Cheng Liru seemed to add something else.

Lu Rangchen didn’t respond further — he wrapped up the call with a few brief, perfunctory words and hung up. He didn’t look to be in a great mood.

When he raised his gaze again, Yunque was looking at him with wide, soft eyes. “Are you leaving?”

Lu Rangchen looked back at her with teasing eyes. “What, you don’t want me to go?”

The same playful goading as always.

Yet in that instant, Yunque couldn’t help a small, reckless thought — wondering whether somewhere inside those words, there was a grain of sincerity from him too.

Then, just as quickly, she came back to herself.

Lu Rangchen hadn’t come especially for her tonight. He’d come to collect some things, and stopping to check on her had been in passing.

But she hadn’t expected him to come especially for her in the first place.

That would have been too much.

Between them, there was nothing that could be called “closeness” of that nature.

A faint, subdued disappointment drifted through her eyes.

Yunque looked away slightly. “Then go — it’s already very late. Don’t make your mother worry.”

“And you?”

Lu Rangchen tilted his chin lightly. “You still have two more bags to go. You’ll manage on your own?”

“I’m fine — the doctor is still here.”

Yunque said, “My mom will be back to stay with me soon too.”

She wasn’t lying.

Feng Yanlai had just sent her a message — stuck in traffic, would be there soon.

Hearing this, Lu Rangchen was briefly silent. The dark depths of his gaze held something unreadable.

For a moment, Yunque thought he was about to say something to her. But that indecipherable feeling only lingered in his eyes for the briefest instant.

Before she could make sense of it, Lu Rangchen’s gaze relaxed into something easier, like a man releasing a weight he’d been holding. “Good. As long as someone’s with you.”

With those words, he stood, slinging his backpack onto his shoulder in that careless, unhurried way of his.

Yunque watched him without looking away.

Lu Rangchen raised his hand and, all of a sudden, ruffled her hair gently.

A soft, gentle pressure.

Less like it rested on her head — more like it settled somewhere inside her chest.

Yunque’s breath stalled.

Lu Rangchen’s long eyes lowered slightly. His thick, long lashes seemed to veil whatever unnamed emotion lay beneath them. He gave her a fleeting, light smile. “I’m going.”

Feng Yanlai didn’t come to pick Yunque up until nearly nine o’clock.

She had brought a large birthday cake and said she’d go home and cook a few of her best dishes for Yunque.

The night wind was bone-chilling and fierce.

Yunque, with very little energy left, picked up the big bag of snacks Lu Rangchen had given her and followed Feng Yanlai upstairs.

Before she went inside, she glanced at the door across from theirs.

The brown security door was firmly shut. No sound came from within — there was no way to tell whether anyone was home.

She thought that perhaps Lu Rangchen had already finished collecting his things and gone back.

But that was alright.

They’d still see each other tomorrow.

The virus must have really taken hold, because that night Yunque only managed to eat a little with Feng Yanlai before showering and going to bed.

Unsurprisingly, Lu Rangchen came to Yunque in her dreams again.

In the dream, she chased him onto Bus No. 65. The aisle ahead was crowded with figures, and no matter how hard she pressed forward through the crowd, she couldn’t close the distance.

In the end, all she could do was watch helplessly as the young man’s tall, slender silhouette got off the bus with the flow of passengers and disappeared into the vast sea of people.

The loss in the dream fell like a downpour, drenching her heart until it was soaked through.

She woke to find it was three in the morning.

Yunque breathed softly, staring into the endless dark of the night, her mind empty and drifting.

……

The next day was Tuesday.

After Feng Yanlai confirmed Yunque was in a decent enough state, she headed out. Before she left, she reminded her — if you really feel awful, just ask the teacher for leave and come home to rest.

Yunque responded dutifully.

Inside, though, she was as resolute as if she had a score to settle — determined to go to school no matter how she felt.

There were fewer than ten days until final exams.

Yunque had no intention of slacking off. She had to get into Class A.

Holding onto that resolve, she dragged her exhausted body to school and returned Zhao Qijia’s scarf to him.

Zhao Qijia looked at the scarf she’d neatly folded and tucked into a paper bag, and said with an amused half-smile, “You’re quite thoughtful,” and looked up just in time to see that Yunque had a different scarf around her neck.

Grey and black, the two tones contrasting.

One end of it hung down and bore a logo. The brand was expensive — and only sold men’s items.

Zhao Qijia was stunned for a moment. He watched as Yunque unwound it and carefully folded it away, placing it inside her desk.

He couldn’t help asking, “Did you buy that one?”

Yunque looked up from taking out her books. “What?”

“The scarf.”

“……”

Yunque paused, and it was several seconds before she said, “It’s someone else’s.”

Zhao Qijia wanted to say — Lu Rangchen’s, isn’t it.

But seeing the subtle, understated unease in Yunque’s eyes, he let it go.

After morning reading, Yunque headed to Class A with the scarf in hand to return it.

She’d brought some preserved fruits from back home that Feng Yanlai had bought — expensive, sweet, and delicious; she barely let herself eat any of them, yet she’d brought an entire box, wanting Lu Rangchen to try them.

But reality disappointed her once again.

Lu Rangchen hadn’t come to morning reading either.

Yunque gripped the bag in her hand as her mind went briefly, entirely blank.

She suddenly thought of the way he’d seemed on the verge of saying something the night before but held back, and of the dream that had left her so bereft.

She was afraid — afraid that Lu Rangchen would disappear again.

This unfounded, anxious uncertainty took hold of her without warning.

The only comfort was that two books and some odds and ends were still sitting on Lu Rangchen’s desk — there was no sign that he’d packed up and cleared out.

Yunque could only tell herself not to overthink it, and turned to go back to her classroom.

Two classes later, it was the usual morning exercise break.

The temperature had warmed somewhat, and most of the snow had melted. All students were required to go outside.

Yunque filed out with the crowd. Even when everyone had lined up in formation, she still hadn’t caught sight of Lu Rangchen.

His spot was empty.

As though there had never been anyone there at all.

An inexplicable sense of loss hung over her like the winter fog — dense, suffocating.

Yunque had a vague feeling that something was wrong.

On the way back, Xu Linda tried to reassure her, suggesting that maybe he’d just felt lazy and skipped class again, and offering to ask Deng Zhe for her.

This time Yunque stopped her.

She wanted to ask herself.

Back in the classroom, while the teacher had yet to arrive, Yunque took out her phone and sent Lu Rangchen a message.

She expected to wait a long time for a reply.

He responded almost immediately.

Lu Rangchen: 【Something came up today. You can leave the things with Zhou Chuang.】

The message buzzed against her fingertips, and the heart she’d been holding suspended inside her chest dropped back into place.

She wanted to ask what “something” it was, but after typing the words, she felt it wasn’t her place to ask. She deleted it and sent a simple: “Okay.”

Lu Rangchen asked: 【Are you better?】

Yunque pressed her lips together and said she wasn’t fully recovered yet.

Lu Rangchen: 【Then take your medicine.】

The fingertips that had gone cold just moments ago slowly warmed again.

Yunque sent: 【When you’re back, I’ll take everyone out for dinner — a belated birthday celebration.】

Just as she sent that.

Voices drifted in from the hallway — two teachers chatting and laughing, one of whom was Zheng Guoxiong.

Yunque didn’t dare do anything suspicious in his class. She quickly tucked her phone away.

It was in that very last second before it slipped into her desk drawer that Lu Rangchen sent back a reply.

He said: okay.

A mood that had been hovering in uncertain clouds shifted, just like that, to clear skies.

Yunque paid reasonably good attention through Zheng Guoxiong’s class. The moment the bell rang, Xu Linda came to find her so they could go to the bathroom together — and along the way, shared what she’d heard from Deng Zhe.

Deng Zhe said it seemed Lu Rangchen had something come up today and had asked for leave.

Yunque nodded when she heard this. “I know.”

Xu Linda stared at her. “You asked Rangchen yourself?”

Yunque gave a faint smile. “I did.”

Xu Linda immediately erupted with exasperated admiration: “He really has no sense of loyalty to anyone but you — I sent him a message too, and he didn’t even reply to me.”

Yunque was mildly surprised.

Xu Linda laughed and nudged her. “I feel like I’m going to be calling you ‘sister-in-law’ before long.”

“……”

That joke was genuinely a little much.

Yunque’s eyelid twitched. She quickly shot Xu Linda a silencing look.

Fortunately, they’d gone to a smaller bathroom with hardly anyone around, and the few people outside were all unfamiliar faces.

Xu Linda stuck out her tongue at her and darted into a stall.

Yunque went into the one beside her.

Just then, a few more people arrived in the bathroom.

There were only four stalls in total, and they were instantly all occupied. Those who hadn’t gotten a spot — Lin Zhinian and her close friend — weren’t in any particular hurry. They waited outside, chatting as they did.

She must have been holding it in for quite some time.

Lin Zhinian let out a breath, and the very first thing she said was: “Babe, I’m so upset. Lu Rangchen is leaving in a few days.”

The moment those words fell.

Yunque had just fastened the button on her waistband.

She heard this — and froze completely, forgetting even to breathe.

She wasn’t the only one caught off guard.

Lin Zhinian’s friend let out an astonished sound. “He’s leaving? Where’s he going?”

“Back to Beidou, obviously.”

Lin Zhinian said sulkily, “His grandmother got seriously ill this time, and she’s getting on in age. He can’t bear to leave her, so he’s going back to stay with her.”

The girl’s expression filled with sympathy. “Will he be coming back?”

“How could he possibly come back.”

Lin Zhinian pursed her lips. “That’s the capital — it’s better in every way than Nancheng. And there’s barely a year and a half left of high school. By the time he’s done keeping his grandmother company, he’ll have graduated.”

At that point, Xu Linda on the other side couldn’t hold herself together any longer. She shoved the door open and demanded loudly, “Who told you that?”

Lin Zhinian jumped, clutching her chest and staring at her with an aggrieved glare. “What’s wrong with you, bursting out like that?”

Yunque also pushed open her door and stepped out.

Compared to Xu Linda’s dramatic reaction, she was far calmer.

Lin Zhinian’s gaze lingered on her, and her mouth promptly snapped shut.

Xu Linda rolled her eyes. “Fine, don’t tell us then.”

She and Yunque headed to the sinks to wash their hands.

Lin Zhinian kept staring at the two of them. She hadn’t intended to say anything further.

But watching Yunque walk calmly over to wash her hands, barely a ripple showing on her face — something in Lin Zhinian suddenly couldn’t stay contained. She said with deliberate weight, “Lu Rangchen told me himself, of course. Who else would have told me?”

Having delivered that, she let the stall door slam shut behind her.

Yunque lowered her gaze, watching the icy tap water rush over her reddening fingertips.

Something in her chest flared suddenly and sharply.