In the years that followed, Zhu Yunque would often find herself thinking back to that night — to that stolen, secret kiss from Lu Rangchen in the midst of the bar’s noise and warmth.

The light was dim and ambient, blurring the edges of everything.

Only his breath and his voice were clear and sharp and intoxicating.

Zhu Yunque still couldn’t say whether she was truly a little drunk, or simply seizing on the slight haze of the alcohol as permission to act recklessly. She reached up and gripped Lu Rangchen’s shoulders, and kissed him back.

This time it was Lu Rangchen who closed his eyes.

He loved it when she took the initiative.

But the kiss was barely a kiss — just the lightest, briefest graze of something sweet.

And then Zhu Yunque, the moment it was over, started behaving like a coaxing little thing.

She said: Lu Rangchen, I want to hear you sing.

A girl’s voice when it goes soft like that is something no man can resist, and Lu Rangchen was certainly no exception. He tilted his head to look at her, his gaze heavy, his voice as deep and warm as a vinyl record.

He said, alright. What do you want to hear?

Zhu Yunque said: I want to hear “Things You Don’t Know.”

The one Lu Rangchen had sung to her a long time ago — sung only for her. She wanted to hear it again.

So by the time Li Tie and Zhou Jin came back, Lu Rangchen was already on stage.

The bar owner wasn’t someone he knew, but the resident band knew him very well. They were more than happy to have him, and cleared a spot for him without question. He settled into place, cradling a guitar in front of the microphone.

His lean, upright figure and extraordinary good looks, caught in the wash of the stage lighting, stirred the crowd below into immediate motion.

The bar was busy that night, a mixed crowd of all kinds. Among the women, even the boldest wouldn’t shout anything out loud — but one of the men did: a somewhat effeminate, rather flamboyant type, who called out, “You’re so handsome — are you taken?”

The crowd below burst out laughing. Someone even started whistling.

Lu Rangchen angled his head slightly, those sharp, refined features lit by the stage glow, and with a faint half-smile in the direction of the comment, said, “Sorry — I have a girlfriend.”

That easy, drawling cadence — low, smooth, a little rough at the edges, completely unhurried — was almost embarrassingly attractive.

The moment those words landed, the crowd below got even louder.

Rowdy in the way that only happens around someone with looks like that, that bearing, that voice.

Born to be favored, forever the center of the room — these kinds of words felt like they had always been perfectly fitted to him, and never excessive.

The noise carried on until he opened his mouth again. He raised an eyebrow, unhurried as ever, and smiled slowly. “The next song is for my girlfriend.”

The words settled.

The gentle opening notes began, and by degrees, the bar grew quiet.

No one knew who had arranged the lighting, but a single beam fell onto Zhu Yunque exactly where she sat, soft as moonlight.

Even Zhou Jin beside her covered her mouth with both hands, looking as though she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “Oh my god, how does Lu Rangchen know how to be this romantic?”

Her gasp drew nearly every eye in the room to look over.

Curious, wondering, envious.

All of it, in its many variations, landed on Zhu Yunque.

But Zhu Yunque had already lost the ability to tell whether the haze she felt was the alcohol, or the person standing on that stage.

She only knew that Lu Rangchen’s gaze had found her and settled there, unrestrained, and it never moved from beginning to end.

And so as the opening notes drew to their close, he finally parted his lips and began to sing, softly —

“How many times must a butterfly blink its eyes before it learns to fly

The night sky is scattered with stars, but which ones will fall to earth

I was flying, but when you started to fall

I was close enough to hear your breath

I’m sorry — and still I could not hold on to you

……”

Zhu Yunque and he gazed at each other, the line of their sight stretching long and unbroken.

As if she had suddenly been pulled into a whirlpool she could not escape, the pull against her chest breathless and impossible to endure.

And many years later, she would come across a post on a social media platform. It said: once someone has truly loved you, that’s it for you — you’re shaped forever. You know too well how someone who really loves you treats you. So the moment you encounter love of lesser quality, you can see through it in an instant.

That was the moment Zhu Yunque thought of Lu Rangchen.

She thought of every moment he had indulged her. She thought of every look he had given her — every gaze in which he had been willing to go under.

And it was in that moment that she finally understood.

In this lifetime, she feared she would never feel her heart move for anyone else.

……

That evening’s gathering stretched on, and before anyone noticed it had grown past nine.

Zhou Jin and Li Tie weren’t done drinking, and were trying to drag the two of them to a barbecue spot — but Feng Yanlai’s phone call put an end to that.

Zhu Yunque was truly quite gifted at lying.

The alcohol had already gone to her head, yet the moment she answered the phone, her speech was composed and rational. Every question Feng Yanlai asked, she answered with perfect clarity and calm.

“I’ve been out a little longer with Ye Tian — heading back now.”

“Yes, he listened to me.”

“On the commercial street on the west side of the city — we just wandered around a bit longer.”

“No — no one else.”

As she said all of this, Zhu Yunque had folded herself down onto the curb, hugging her knees, looking like a small, lost child with nowhere to go.

Lu Rangchen had come out of the pharmacy and was walking back carrying a bag of takeaway skewers when he spotted this.

He tucked one hand in his pocket and came to stand idly at her side, the corner of his mouth curving slightly as he listened to her spin her tale.

Zhu Yunque sensed his presence first through the scent of him.

That particular quality of his — she had the feeling it was encoded somewhere in her very DNA, something she could recognize without thinking in the very first instant.

Lu Rangchen dropped his head slightly, then nudged the tip of her shoe with his foot.

Zhu Yunque looked up. The glow of the neon signs fell across her clear eyes, making them glitter, warm and soft and quietly lovely.

Lu Rangchen’s throat moved.

He found he suddenly didn’t want her to keep talking to Feng Yanlai.

Zhu Yunque was tired too.

She took the hand Lu Rangchen extended and stood slowly, letting him slide his arm around her waist and lean her gently against him.

Her waist was very slender.

One hand placed lightly over it, and he had her drawn close without any effort at all.

His chin grazed the warm top of her head. Lu Rangchen waited patiently, listening to her finish the conversation with Feng Yanlai. She said yes, she’d be back soon.

The call ended.

Lu Rangchen glanced down at her. “Is the good little girl going home now?”

Zhu Yunque leaned against him and tilted her head to look at him, but said nothing.

As though all the words she’d spoken that night had already used up every last bit of her quota.

Lu Rangchen could see she was genuinely tired. The corner of his mouth lifted softly, and he took her hand and walked her back to the car.

The whole ride back, he kept hold of her hand, preferring to drive one-handed.

Zhu Yunque had taken the fast-acting hangover medicine he’d bought, and slept for a bit. By the time the car turned into the street near the residential compound, she had gradually come back to herself.

In the back seat were the takeaway skewers Lu Rangchen had specifically gone to pick up, along with the cream cake they’d never opened.

He had driven two extra streets to find that cake on short notice.

All because of one offhand thing she’d said.

Lu Rangchen said nothing more about it, didn’t push her to eat any of it. Seeing she had no appetite, he simply brought everything along and took it back with her. When the car pulled up outside the building, Lu Rangchen turned his head toward her. “Do you want me to walk you up?”

The reason he asked was because of what she had said — that she probably wouldn’t want me to be with you.

Zhu Yunque knew exactly what he meant. She said nothing. She also made no move to get out of the car — she just looked at him, that gaze of hers lingering on him openly in a way that was more telling than any words.

Their eyes met for a few seconds.

Lu Rangchen let out a low, quiet laugh. He genuinely didn’t know what to make of her sometimes.

“Alright then.”

He pretended to be reluctantly obliging and pinched her cheek. “At worst, we’ll just call this meeting my future mother-in-law a little ahead of schedule.”

At that, Zhu Yunque’s mouth curved into the faintest smile.

What mother-in-law — nothing was anywhere near certain yet.

But she liked hearing him say it all the same.

They walked hand in hand into the compound and up to the building.

It wasn’t a very high floor.

The elevator arrived quickly.

They came to a stop at the front door, and the night’s outing finally drew to a proper close.

Zhu Yunque had fully intended to say a proper, well-behaved goodbye — when the motion sensor light suddenly went out, and in the same dark instant, Lu Rangchen pulled her against the wall.

The corridor fell into complete darkness.

Lu Rangchen lowered his voice deliberately, letting it curl close to her ear. “If you hadn’t run into me today, would you have kept quiet about coming back right until the very end?”

Zhu Yunque: “……”

She’d known he was going to bring this up.

She just hadn’t expected him to wait until now to do it.

Having spent enough time around him to understand his temperament by now — she knew there was no way around it without some coaxing.

In the dim and murky dark, Zhu Yunque kept her gaze fixed on him, steady and clear. She said, “I wasn’t planning to hide it from you at all — I came back partly to see you.”

That voice of hers — composed and gentle, nothing like the recklessly carefree tone the alcohol had given her earlier.

Lu Rangchen gave a quiet, short laugh.

Nothing like the good student, the well-behaved girl everyone took her for. All of it, performance.

She was very skilled at deceiving people, but equally skilled at coaxing them.

Lu Rangchen, in any mood, was entirely susceptible to her approach.

An itch rose in his throat. He accepted the easy out she’d offered, and gave a soft sound of acknowledgment. “Then prove it.”

His tone carried a light, unmistakable provocation — making it plain he was angling for something.

Zhu Yunque pressed her lips together, looped her hands around his neck, and rose on her tiptoes to press a light kiss to his throat.

That spot still bore the obvious red mark. She traced it lightly with her fingertip and only now thought to wonder — how had he explained it to Cheng Liru?

Lu Rangchen felt the warmth of that small touch, but kept himself steady and laughed softly. “How else — just told her the truth.”

His arm around her drew her closer, and in a tone that felt like laying down something carefully kept for a long time, he pressed light kisses along the skin of her neck. He said, “My mom says she rather likes you.”

An intimacy that was almost overwhelming in its gentleness, like something sweet dissolving slowly through her.

She felt herself going soft all the way through.

Zhu Yunque’s fingers curled tight. Her shoulders went carefully rigid. “Lu Rangchen……we’re at the front door……”

He knew it scared her.

Lu Rangchen didn’t tease her any further. He let out a quiet, muffled laugh against her shoulder, then straightened. The motion-sensor light came back on at the same moment.

He tilted his chin. “Go on in.”

It came out as though he were granting her leave.

Zhu Yunque turned and reached for her key.

When she looked back, Lu Rangchen was already in the elevator. He leaned against the wall inside, tall and lean, and they looked at each other one last time. He pulled his mouth into a slow, lazy smile — the kind of handsome that made something in her short-circuit entirely.

Zhu Yunque finally understood what it meant to be undone by someone’s looks.

So undone that even as she soaked in the bath later that night, she couldn’t stop replaying the several stolen kisses they’d shared.

In the corridor of the shopping mall supermarket.

And again after he’d come off the stage — in a quiet, empty corner of the bar.

He kissed her, each time more fluent and more heated than the last, as though he could never quite get enough.

Whether it was the steam rising around her, or the sheer warmth of those memories, Zhu Yunque raised both hands and pressed them to her cheeks, rubbing hard.

She finished her bath and came out to find it was nearly ten.

Feng Yanlai wasn’t home at that hour.

Zhu Yunque genuinely hadn’t expected that — Feng Yanlai had been the one to hurry her home, yet she herself was nowhere to be found.

Zhu Yunque didn’t think to ask about it. Feng Yanlai’s affairs were not hers to manage.

But it didn’t stop her from noticing things.

Just as she was putting things away before heading to her room, she caught sight of something on the sofa.

A necktie.

Dark patterned, the kind that looked expensive just from a glance.

She had no idea when it had been left there, or whose it was.

Zhu Yunque stood still for a moment, looking at it without quite knowing why, when the sound of a key turning in the door reached her.

A click, and Feng Yanlai came home.

She saw Zhu Yunque, freshly bathed, and paused for just an instant — and then caught sight of the necktie on the sofa.

The atmosphere in the room became briefly, delicately awkward.

Feng Yanlai said, “When did you get back?”

Zhu Yunque said, half an hour ago.

Feng Yanlai made a quiet sound, stepped in without changing expression to take off her shoes, and then noticed the cake and the skewers sitting on the table in the living room. “Don’t eat that kind of junk so late at night — it’s not healthy, and you’ll put on weight.”

Zhu Yunque said nothing, and went upstairs to the bathroom to blow dry her hair and get ready for bed.

All in all, the evening was calmer than she had imagined.

Feng Yanlai didn’t ask her anything.

The two of them were like two people each carrying their own private secret — they went the whole evening without another word exchanged between them.

Since she’d only asked for two days off, Zhu Yunque spent the second day almost entirely in Feng Yanlai’s company.

In the morning they went to her shop, and Zhu Yunque picked out a good number of things to wear in the colder months. Feng Yanlai packed them up to be shipped to the school address. In the afternoon they went out together — wandering the shops, having a meal, buying things.

Feng Yanlai seemed preoccupied with something, slightly absent in her attention, but she spent freely, even bringing up the idea of getting Zhu Yunque a new phone. Zhu Yunque declined.

Lu Rangchen, for his part, was much the same.

Having him there meant Cheng Liru was doing better.

Inevitably, there was also a meeting with Lu Dingzhong.

Lu Dingzhong carried himself with the manner of a career academic — measured and formal in his dealings with Lu Rangchen, and after the death of Lu Zhitao, he had become even less communicative, spending most of his time at the university campus. It was always Cheng Liru who went to him.

So people outside the family generally said that Professor Lu’s wife was entirely a creature of sentiment — chasing after her husband at her age.

The remark wasn’t meant unkindly.

To outsiders, Lu Dingzhong and Cheng Liru appeared to be very happily married.

Lu Dingzhong, though he had gotten on in years, still possessed a quality about him that stood apart from ordinary men — an elegance and a scholarly refinement to his bearing. The students at the university frequently praised Professor Lu’s looks.

Cheng Liru was beautiful and gentle, and came from a good family.

Lu Rangchen’s appearance had inherited the finest qualities of both.

Anyone who spoke of this family spoke of them with undisguised admiration.

Yet every family carries its own hidden burden.

Who could have known that behind closed doors, Lu Dingzhong and Cheng Liru had long since come undone — that all these years, they had only been working to keep up appearances?

Compared to the late Lu Zhitao, Lu Rangchen’s relationship with Lu Dingzhong was distant and lukewarm.

Essentially: Lu Dingzhong asked a question, Lu Rangchen answered it. This particular reunion dinner was happening only because Lu Rangchen had come back.

Cheng Liru was skilled at maintaining appearances.

Thinking that since her son was present, she would rather not let things become too tense, she made a point of speaking to Lu Dingzhong as she normally would.

It was Lu Rangchen who was indifferent to a degree that exceeded the usual.

At the dinner table, Lu Dingzhong tried several times to start a conversation about his studies, and Lu Rangchen could only be bothered to respond once, in that careless, unhurried way of his.

Lu Dingzhong’s temper was not what you would call good.

But with Cheng Liru’s condition in mind, he could only swallow it in silence.

Cheng Liru couldn’t bear to watch the father and son locked in that stiffness, and stepped in to mediate. “Don’t worry yourself over nothing — Rangchen is doing quite well at Jingda. All the family is there, and his grandparents dote on him. You don’t need to worry about him getting into trouble.”

At the mention of “grandparents,” Lu Dingzhong’s brow furrowed slightly.

After a beat of silence, he said: “That’s easy for you to say. As if you’re not worried he’ll be spoiled rotten over there.”

The Cheng family patriarch and matriarch did indeed indulge Lu Rangchen without reserve — the car, the apartment on that side, not a single thing was bought without the two elders having a hand in it. All these years they had been putting money aside for him, out of fear that Lu Dingzhong had been treating him poorly.

Years ago they had even proposed that Lu Rangchen change his surname to Cheng.

The thought still ranked with Lu Dingzhong.

And on top of that, there was Lu Rangchen, slouched back in his chair, the corner of his mouth lazily curled, with that expression of complete indifference — not even bothering to raise his eyes.

Lu Dingzhong found it truly difficult to look at.

His gaze had been drawn, for some time now, to the red mark visible on Lu Rangchen’s throat. “What happened to your neck?”

He had been staring at it for a while already.

It was only now that he actually asked.

At that, Lu Rangchen finally reacted. His eyes moved from his phone to Lu Dingzhong’s face. He looked back without flinching or deflecting — and even smiled faintly. “What do you think?”

The response left Lu Dingzhong at a complete loss for a reply.

Cheng Liru exclaimed, “Really, at your age, what are you even asking about? Rangchen is old enough — it’s perfectly normal for him to be seeing someone.”

Lu Dingzhong seemed caught off guard. His brow furrowed. “Seeing someone?”

Cheng Liru was nearly exasperated with him. “Yes, seeing someone — what else did you think I meant?”

“Young couples are affectionate — there’s nothing out of the ordinary about that. It’s not as though he’s done anything inappropriate, and he was home early last night.”

With that she served Lu Rangchen a portion from the dish nearest her, then said, “I’ve met the girl a few times. She’s a wonderful child. Her mother is someone you know as well — Feng Yanlai, the one renting from us.”

Three words, like flicking a switch.

The expression on Lu Dingzhong’s face changed immediately.

He looked at Lu Rangchen. “Is this true?”

Lu Rangchen was idly picking at the pork ribs in his bowl with his chopsticks. At the question, the chopsticks paused.

He’d been thinking about this anyway — sooner or later, it would come out in the open.

Lu Rangchen had no intention of hiding it. He glanced up at Lu Dingzhong. “Her name is Zhu Yunque.”

Even just hearing the name — you could tell she was a gentle sort of person.

Lu Rangchen hadn’t imagined this would be any kind of problem where Lu Dingzhong was concerned. After all, Zhu Yunque was such a wonderful girl — anyone who met her would like her.

And even if he didn’t — it didn’t matter.

Lu Rangchen liked her. That was enough.

As it turned out, it did become a problem.

The words had barely left his mouth when the atmosphere at the table turned visibly heavy.

Lu Dingzhong looked at Lu Rangchen with an expression that was difficult to read, seeming to weigh something for several seconds — and then said abruptly: “I don’t approve.”