The restaurant next door to the barbecue place was a Hunan cuisine restaurant.

It was peak hours, and by the time Yunque and Zhao Qijia went in, only the seats at the very back were still available.

Perhaps affected by the unexpected run-in just now, the atmosphere between them felt subtly strained.

Zhao Qijia studied Yunque’s expression for a long while before saying anything. It wasn’t until after they had ordered that he found an opening and asked about Lu Rangchen in a carefully casual way.

“Why would he be here near Jingda — is he a student at Jingda?”

“And the woman next to him — is she his girlfriend?”

The word girlfriend landed like a needle caught in the space between her fingers. Yunque’s gaze flickered.

Thinking of the bracelet on the woman’s wrist, she lowered her eyes and pressed three words out through barely-parted lips: “Probably.”

This was said very quietly.

A corner of Zhao Qijia’s smile dimmed. Something in his chest went cold.

After a brief silence, he laughed with an uncomfortable awkwardness. “You’ve actually been in touch with each other all along, haven’t you.”

Yunque raised her gaze, letting it settle on his face.

It was a very clean face.

Even in university, he still gave off the same impression as before — a sunny, open sort of boy.

A type entirely unlike Lu Rangchen, and a type that Yunque wanted to try with but couldn’t seem to feel anything for.

Perhaps he was the person she should have fallen for.

He would treat her well, look after her at every moment, care about how she felt, and never give her the slightest reason to feel uneasy.

Not like Lu Rangchen.

Who only knew how to keep her heart in a state of constant agitation.

Not quite able to name what she felt inside, Yunque gave an absent-minded murmur of acknowledgment. “He goes to Jingda too.”

Zhao Qijia visibly wanted to say something more, suppressed his surprise, and chose not to ask further.

Soon the food arrived.

Zhao Qijia continued looking out for Yunque, working hard to find new topics, trying to lift her spirits a little.

But it was no use.

Yunque’s expression remained flat the whole time, as though she were sealed inside her own transparent glass dome — unreachable by anyone.

She was usually like this — cool and quiet, rarely smiling — but there had never been a time when she had been this uninterested in engaging.

And how could Zhao Qijia not see it?

He couldn’t quite put a name to whether he was fed up, or exhausted, or simply disheartened. After trying time and again, it was getting hard to keep his expression in place.

The table fell silent.

Yunque paused and looked up at him. “You really don’t have to do this.”

Zhao Qijia: “……”

For the first time, he wore an expression that came close to a baffled, helpless laugh. “Do what?”

Yunque said: “You don’t have to be so good to me.”

“……”

“We’re just friends.”

Two sentences like a bucket of cold water, dousing what little remained of a guttering flame.

Zhao Qijia’s expression stiffened. His lips trembled. For a long while, he couldn’t find a single thing to say.

Yunque lowered her eyes, pushing the white rice around in the ceramic bowl. She finally said the words she had been sitting with for some time.

“Zhao Qijia — you’re a good person, but we’re not right for each other.”

Though he had already half-guessed what she was about to say, hearing it out loud still stung.

Zhao Qijia laughed all of a sudden. “So I’m getting the ‘you’re a good person’ card.”

Yunque said nothing.

Zhao Qijia spoke again. “It’s because of Lu Rangchen, isn’t it.”

Yunque still said nothing.

Zhao Qijia was getting angry now.

He laughed coldly. “So you and Lu Rangchen are right for each other?”

Her chopsticks paused.

Yunque’s lashes gave a light tremble, the color fading from her fingertips, leaving a pale and fragile brittleness.

After a quiet moment, she shook her head. “Not right for each other either.”

Zhao Qijia had never seen anyone this composed — he was at a complete loss, couldn’t do a thing with her. “But you’re in love with him, aren’t you. Just like I’m in love with you.”

He was getting worked up. “But can he do what I do? Can he sit in a library and just wait for you, just to see you for a little longer—”

Yunque looked at him directly. “I don’t need him to.”

The soft female voice lifted without warning, clear and decisive, leaving no room for anything to be negotiated.

She had never once admitted out loud that she liked him — yet every single word spoke of her love for that person.

So this was what it looked like when she truly liked someone.

Even remaining outwardly calm and composed, there would still be that one moment of turbulence, even of losing control.

Zhao Qijia’s gaze dimmed.

He didn’t know what to say — or rather, he understood very clearly that nothing more would change anything.

After a near-suffocating silence, Zhao Qijia gave a rueful smile, picked up his jacket, and got to his feet.

Yunque couldn’t quite say whether what she was feeling was guilt or something else entirely, but her eyes began to ache with warmth, and she said three words in a quiet voice: “I’m sorry.”

Her voice was rough at the edges. “I meant to wait until you’d finished eating before saying any of this.”

But she had no control over herself.

Every second in her mind was Lu Rangchen and that woman standing side by side. It was unbearable — unbearable enough that she had no strength left to look after anyone else’s feelings.

What came back to her was a sound of self-mocking laughter.

Zhao Qijia looked at her for a long moment, and in the end said nothing, tightened his grip on his jacket, and turned to walk away.

The seat was suddenly empty.

Yunque felt as though all the energy had been drained out of her. She stared at the four dishes and one soup on the table, feeling nothing.

She sat there in a stupor for a while.

She took out her phone, ready to get up and settle the bill.

At that very moment, a figure came from behind and swept in around her — a heavy, dense presence like a wall closing off all air, surrounding her completely. Along with it came the smell of wood and smoke laced with a slight bitterness.

The fingers holding her phone gave a tremor.

Yunque’s throat caught, and she froze in sudden disorientation.

When she looked up, Lu Rangchen had already pulled out the chair to her left and seated himself there as though he owned the place, his narrow, cold-edged eyes holding back a rolling tide as he fixed them on her.

Dissatisfaction. Restraint. Anger. And a jealousy that was burning hot and going nowhere.

The air turned razor-sharp between them.

She didn’t know how many cigarettes he’d gone through — his voice had gone gravelly. “He just walks out on you like that — was it worth it?”

Hearing his voice.

Yunque’s heart was seized by an abrupt, violent pull, and in an instant her eyes went red.

She hadn’t been without the thought that he might come to find her.

But when he actually appeared in front of her — and said that infuriating, ridiculous thing — the feeling of being wronged, of bitterness and resentment, still cut cleanly through her, as if a blade had found its mark.

Yunque’s lips pressed tight, she turned away, and tried to act as if she hadn’t noticed him — picked up her bag and started to get up. But Lu Rangchen rose too, and with decisive, high-handed force, seized her wrist and dragged her away.

The kind of scene you’d only ever see in a drama, and somehow she was living it. Yunque was stunned.

And Lu Rangchen was too tall, his legs too long — once he opened up his stride it was as though he’d caught the wind.

Yunque couldn’t break free at all. She could only be pulled along by him, out through the restaurant’s back door.

It was an older residential complex.

The lane lights were dim, and somewhere in the grass a cicada was singing faintly.

Yunque’s thoughts were in utter chaos, and in a blink she found herself pressed by Lu Rangchen into an unlit corner.

The wall was cold against her back. The collision made her shoulder ache. Too much emotion had pooled into an ocean inside her chest — a mist rose in her vision.

Tears fell in great heavy drops — in the very second that Lu Rangchen leaned in to kiss her.

His lips were soft, carrying a kind of coolness that had yet to learn what warmth was — yet as they landed on hers, they could ignite in an instant, consuming everything.

Her chin was seized in a firm grip too. Yunque had no choice but to lift her face and meet the tide he was stirring up.

But she was too pliant.

Boneless and yielding, as though she had melted into him.

In an instant, Lu Rangchen was undone by her response, pulling her close and pressing her tightly against him, kissing her with an inexperienced intensity, at first rough and aching, but gradually — that kiss grew scorching, burning at her tongue, burning to the bone, burning until her consciousness drifted and everything became a haze.

And yet the tears fell harder.

As though all the grievances she had carried, all the hurt, all the heartache of holding herself in place and barely moving forward, were being released at once.

Her moon, always so unreachable — was here before her now.

Wanting her. Kissing her.

But why should she have to wait, just because he came?

A stubborn defiance flooded her heart. Yunque, her tears flowing freely, bit back at him hard. Her teeth weren’t sharp — but it was like dense needles driven into his chest.

Lu Rangchen felt something in his chest give way — as if a crack had split open, and a rush of wind poured through — and just like that, he came back to himself.

He drew back, the bridge of his nose pressed to hers, breathing hard.

Yunque’s eyes were wet, her heartbeat so fast her breathing had gone ragged — yet she still reached out and slapped him.

Lightly.

A clean, soft sound.

Lu Rangchen didn’t move away. He looked straight at her, then let out a sudden, quiet laugh.

His low, resonant voice carried a warmth that could drown a person. “Does hitting me make you feel better?”

Yunque pressed her lips together and said nothing.

Her lashes were still damp, but her eyes held a stubbornness that seemed impossible to dissolve.

Lu Rangchen knew she was angry.

He’d done it deliberately — pushed at her, wanting to see if there was anything of himself inside that guarded heart of hers.

He just hadn’t anticipated riling her to this degree.

He raised his hand, and gently rubbed a corner of his thumb across her lips, wiping away the moisture there. His warm breath drifted over her lashes. His voice was very soft. “Want to do it again?”

Yunque turned her face away from him.

Lu Rangchen held her chin and turned that small face back, arched an eyebrow, and in a mock-serious tone tried to frighten her: “Going to stay quiet, are you? Then let’s go again.”

There wasn’t the slightest hint of a joke in how he said this — and the moment the words were out, he leaned in again.

Yunque’s shoulders flinched. Her gaze met his head-on, and she gave him a sharp warning: “Lu Rangchen!”

The scoundrel man immediately let out a barely suppressed bark of laughter.

Yunque was so flustered by his laughing that her face burned scarlet. She clenched her fingers tight, her heart pounding so hard she could barely breathe.

For the first time, the distance between them had been this close. There was even the faint remnant of his taste between her lips — a thin thread of bitterness mixed with clean mint, unmistakably premeditated.

But Lu Rangchen was completely shameless about it — and at this impossibly close distance, he looked at her eyes. Even in the dim obscurity of the night, her gaze was as clear and bright as stars.

He fought down the impulse to kiss her again.

Lu Rangchen swallowed quietly, his voice rough. “Let’s talk.”

The tip of Yunque’s nose ached.

She lowered her gaze, her voice light and trembling. “……Talk about what?”

Lu Rangchen methodically uncurled her hands from their tight fists, threaded his fingers through hers, and held on. “Talk about you and me.”

Yunque stared at their interlaced hands, her heart hammering.

Meeting her eyes, Lu Rangchen leaned in, patient as someone trying to coax her, and said quietly: “Look at me.”

Two words he said as though they could dissolve her completely.

Yunque raised her gaze almost involuntarily, and her eyes fell on his face — which was so extraordinarily good-looking that she couldn’t find anywhere to hide.

Nothing had changed.

Eyes, nose, mouth. Even the small mole on his earlobe.

And yet everything had changed.

Everything felt closer, as if the distance had collapsed — within arm’s reach, right before her eyes.

Without meaning to, Yunque held her breath. Her gaze was clear, and uncertain.

Looking down at her with half-lowered eyelids — as though he could see straight through her — Lu Rangchen suddenly smiled.

His voice, warm and entrancing.

He said: “Yunque, I’m pursuing you. Can’t you tell?”