After leaving the pickup station, Lu Rangchen did not go home.

He walked straight through the fine, hair-thin drizzle to the underground parking garage.

He’d only come back to pick up a key in the first place — a key to the club’s storage room that had gone missing, leaving the room locked. But at this point, Lu Rangchen couldn’t even be bothered to go upstairs. He didn’t want to see that pair of eyes again, and he didn’t want to see the person trailing behind her.

He simply got into his car, rested his elbow on the window ledge, and lit a cigarette.

A pinpoint of crimson, pale smoke coiling and spreading through the dim, confined space.

As he smoked, he suddenly thought to himself: what a pathetic creature he was.

That woman had clearly moved on and built a new life for herself — she even had her “Mr. Chen” — yet here he was, subconsciously unable to let go of those scraps of the past.

Eight years.

How many eight-year spans does a lifetime contain.

Someone who could say “let’s break up” that ruthlessly back then — how could there be any lingering feeling when they met again?

The thought alone made him want to laugh at himself. He mocked his own foolishness.

He let out a low, scoffing snort, feeling, for no particular reason, utterly drained and listless.

Stubbing out the cigarette with one hand, Lu Rangchen gripped the steering wheel and turned toward the club, expression cold.

Just then, a call from Deng Zhe came through.

The phone was connected to the car’s Bluetooth. Lu Rangchen tapped it without thinking and the call connected.

Deng Zhe’s voice rang through the car’s speakers. As expected — still the same favor he’d been asking about on WeChat.

Deng Zhe was genuinely helpless about it. “Just go this once, please. I’m serious — if I don’t show up, Old Liu is going to video-call me. What am I supposed to do? Do me this one last favor, go in my place again. I’ll explain to her properly when I get the chance.”

“Besides, Old Liu is still going to be Deng Jiao’s teacher for another year — I’m counting on her to give Deng Jiao some special attention and keep her in line. It’s such a perfect opportunity, you know?”

Then he added: “From the way Old Liu was talking, it sounds like she didn’t invite any other parents — just you specifically. All the other guests are teachers from the class. Just think about it — what a privilege that is. Plenty of parents would kill for a chance to get on the good side of those teachers, and they can’t even get through the door.”

Lu Rangchen let out a sardonic scoff. “If it’s such a privilege, why don’t you go yourself?”

Deng Zhe was lost for words. “You think I don’t want to? But it’s obvious Old Liu is planning to set you up on a blind date — if I show up instead, it’ll break the poor girl’s heart. Whose heart would I be breaking, right? At the end of the day, Old Liu wants to see you, Lu Rangchen.”

“Speaking of which, who is it she’s trying to set you up with? From the way she was hinting at it, I get the feeling she’s quite confident about this.”

A blind date. One of the other teachers, at that.

Lu Rangchen’s jaw tightened. Then, unbidden, Yunque’s face surfaced in his mind — that face of hers, serene and understated no matter the circumstance.

Deng Zhe kept at it, coaxing earnestly: “How about this — you go one last time in my place tonight. If you like the girl, give it a shot; if not, forget it. Then you can explain to Old Liu afterward — tell her you’re not Deng Zhe, you’re Lu Rangchen. That should settle things, right?”

Lu Rangchen still said nothing.

Deng Zhe heaved a long sigh. Truly out of options, he switched to resignation: “Forget it, I’ll just go myself. But fair warning — if the girl actually falls for me, I won’t hold back. I’ve been single long enough—”

He didn’t get to finish.

Lu Rangchen let out a quiet, derisive laugh.

This time he was willing to speak. His tone was ice cold. “Dream on. Even if she were blind, she wouldn’t look at you.”

He meant Yunque. Even he himself had been deemed unworthy.

But Deng Zhe had no way of knowing the real reason behind those words. He was simply stung — and amused — by Lu Rangchen’s scathing, contemptuous delivery.

“Lu Rangchen,” Deng Zhe swore, “you’re unbelievable. Who talks to someone like that?”

Lu Rangchen just laughed, low and careless.

Like a sudden return of rationality, he felt that some things did indeed need to be put to rest.

His jaw tightened into a firm line. Lu Rangchen stared ahead, his eyes dark and intent. “Send me the address. I’ll go this one last time.”

He hung up.

The moment the car pulled out of the garage, the phone on the center console lit up.

Meanwhile, inside the residential complex.

With Xiao Qingyu’s help, Yunque carried all her packages upstairs.

There were quite a few of them. With someone else present, she didn’t rush to unpack — she left everything stacked by the entrance and went to get Xiao Qingyu a chilled can of cola.

Xiao Qingyu sat down wherever he found a spot, accepted the can, and asked straightaway: “Hey, why does your shipping label say ‘Mr. Chen’? Who’s Mr. Chen — your ex-boyfriend?”

Yunque was in the kitchen, rinsing out a glass.

At those words, her fingertips went still.

She had lost track of how many times this had happened now — but her mind replayed again, for what felt like the hundredth time, that brief encounter with Lu Rangchen at the pickup station.

The way he’d stood there, eyes lowered, imperious and indolent as he looked sidelong at her. He was the person she had been thinking about for so long — he was right there in front of her, close enough to reach — and yet no matter what, she could not take that step forward.

It felt as though ten thousand feet of void separated them, and the slightest movement on her part would reduce her to dust.

But the moment he was truly gone, the moment she couldn’t see him anymore — the regret would come flooding back, sharp and aching.

Yunque felt, in some confused and hazy way, like she no longer knew what she wanted.

She stood there, expression blank, lost in thought, letting the cold tap water run over her fingertips.

It wasn’t until Xiao Qingyu appeared in the kitchen doorway and called her name again that she came back to herself. “What is it?”

“Nothing.”

He said, “I was just asking about that name on the shipping label — you didn’t answer, so I came to check—”

With that reminder.

Yunque’s thoughts fully resettled. She shook her head and said, “Mr. Chen is me.”

Xiao Qingyu made a sound of surprise. “You?”

Yunque nodded, lowering her gaze to pick up another glass. “When I was living alone in the capital, I got a little nervous being by myself, so I just changed the recipient name to a male one.”

Xiao Qingyu seemed to understand, then asked with a laugh, “But why ‘Mr. Chen’? Shouldn’t it be ‘Mr. Zhu’?”

He paused, then: “Unless your ex-boyfriend has the surname Chen?”

Quite a probing question. He’d been circling around her past relationships throughout.

Yunque could hear exactly what he was fishing for, but she still murmured, “His surname isn’t Chen.”

“Chen” was just borrowed from the last character of his name — a homophone she’d chosen in secret.

The rest of that sentence, she swallowed silently. She had never mentioned it to anyone.

Likely realizing he wasn’t going to get much out of her — and that her manner didn’t suggest she was open to any kind of romantic development — Xiao Qingyu eventually stopped circling around the topic. He stayed to help her unpack the deliveries and tidy up instead.

He hadn’t been at it long, however, before Yunque politely declined his continued help.

She had a dinner engagement that evening — Old Liu’s home birthday dinner.

Old Liu was nearly fifty, had lost her husband early, and her child had finished university and settled in Guangzhou, so she lived alone most of the time, just as Yunque did.

This year, with her son unable to come home for her birthday, she’d gathered a small group of close colleagues and friends to celebrate quietly together.

It was a low-key affair, and Xiao Qingyu knew nothing about it.

Yunque said nothing, only letting him know she had a gathering to attend that evening.

Xiao Qingyu took this in stride and made ready to leave — but before going, he was as helpful as ever, telling her he lived in Building 7 and to call him if she ever needed anything.

Yunque smiled at him.

After he left, she placed the newly purchased men’s slippers and casual shoes among her own shoes at the entrance. Then she tidied up a little more before picking up a gift and heading over to Old Liu’s place.

She didn’t arrive particularly early.

By the time she got there, nearly everyone had already arrived.

Among the guests were several of the younger teachers from the office — including a married couple who both taught at the school — as well as a female Chinese language teacher who was slightly older than Yunque, also single, and also shared an office with her. The two of them got along well enough.

The rest were Old Liu’s personal friends, all around forty, mostly from the education and tutoring field.

Yunque was by far the youngest person there, so after Old Liu introduced her to everyone, she immediately excused herself to help in the kitchen.

But Old Liu pulled her aside and said, “Deng Jiao’s brother is coming a bit later. I’m going to properly introduce you two tonight — don’t look so stiff when the time comes. If it goes well, add each other on WeChat.”

Yunque felt a sudden tension snap through her.

She repeated, disbelieving: “Deng Jiao’s brother?”

“That’s right,” Old Liu said. “You’ve met before — that time during morning reading.”

Old Liu waved her off cheerfully. “There’s nothing for you to do in there — the older ones have it covered with their signature dishes. Go touch up your makeup. You’ll want to look your best when he arrives. He’s a real catch — doesn’t have mountains of money, running a supermarket and all, but he’s a good man, and with that face, money hardly matters.”

With that, she gave Yunque a gentle push toward the bathroom.

Yunque was still in a daze when Old Liu shut the door behind her.

The bathroom was brightly lit.

Yunque looked at herself in the mirror, an inexplicable warmth rising in her cheeks.

That odd, flutter-like tension was something she hadn’t felt since she was young.

But her state of mind now was entirely different.

Yunque found she couldn’t help feeling on edge.

She genuinely didn’t know how Lu Rangchen would react when he saw her.

In the end, all Yunque did was touch up her lip balm before stepping out. Her features were delicate enough that a clean, bare face only made her look more refined.

Everyone had already taken their seats at the table. Old Liu, who adored the sight of her looking so prettily composed, was just about to pay her a compliment — when the doorbell rang.

Perhaps people who have loved each other always share some wordless connection.

Without any reason she could name, Yunque’s heart gave a sharp lift in that instant.

Then the door opened.

It was the young female teacher closest to the entrance who opened it. In that instant, a gust of cold air rushed in, carrying with it the faintest trace of cool, woody fragrance.

The teacher simply stood there in the doorway, frozen, staring up at Lu Rangchen — who was nearly thirty centimeters taller than her.

Tall, broad-shouldered, long-legged, with an air that was somehow both composed and effortlessly relaxed. When he raised his eyes to look at you, there was no deliberate intent in it — and yet somehow it went straight to the heart.

He was dressed differently from that afternoon.

A black jacket layered over a black dress shirt, the look cool and mature, sharp and controlled.

To be honest, it was rare to encounter a man this striking in real life.

You might have mistaken him for some entertainment company’s male lead.

So it was understandable that the teacher found herself staring at him, so taken aback she momentarily forgot how to speak.

But that moment of eye contact lasted only the briefest instant.

In the next second, Lu Rangchen lifted his gaze and cast it, with an air of casual ease, into the room — over to the far side of the dining table.

And that was when Lu Rangchen and Yunque met eyes.

Across a full room of people.

He looked at no one but her.

She had no idea what was going through her mind in that moment. Yunque quickly looked away, her heart hammering.

She reached for the glass of water on the table and took a small sip.

Old Liu rose to her feet at once, warmly welcoming Lu Rangchen inside. She called out his nickname — Deng Zhe’s nickname — chattering with lively, cheerful energy: “Oh, you really didn’t have to bring cake and flowers. I said don’t bother, just coming is more than enough.”

Lu Rangchen was an odd sort of person.

You couldn’t call him someone who was good at pleasantries — and yet when it came to business negotiations, investments, pulling in sponsors, he was better at it than anyone.

But you couldn’t call him incapable of social niceties either, because right now, he couldn’t even be bothered to say anything beyond the minimum. He simply curved his mouth in a polite, perfunctory gesture and followed Old Liu inside, taking a seat beside her.

As luck would have it, that seat was directly across from Yunque.

All she had to do was look up, and she could see Lu Rangchen clearly.

But Lu Rangchen did not look at her. As though she were a complete stranger, his expression remained consistently neutral — eyes lowered, or listening to Old Liu speak, occasionally allowing himself a small smile.

The cake he had brought was unwrapped by the female teacher and set on the table. It was an exquisitely designed thing — one look at the brand told you it was expensive.

Knowing Lu Rangchen was Deng Jiao’s family member, the other two teachers joined in the conversation. The Chinese language teacher in particular became quite animated — she introduced herself first, then went on to say she was Deng Jiao’s Year 10 Chinese teacher.

That girl, usually quite reserved, turned out to be remarkably talkative now — hardly stopping for breath as she kept directing one thing after another at Lu Rangchen.

Compared to her, Yunque was quiet to an almost extreme degree.

She had no appetite, but in that moment, she simply kept her gaze lowered on the small dishes in front of her, eating in small, careful bites.

She sat there eating in quiet composure.

Lu Rangchen watched her from under slightly lowered eyes, some unreadable emotion held just beneath the surface — though his expression betrayed nothing.

He watched her eat a little loofah, a little fish, a little spinach meatball. He watched her take a sip of water. Her appetite truly was that of a small bird, and yet she still would not look up.

Lu Rangchen let out an almost imperceptible huff of laughter.

He genuinely, sincerely admired that stubborn streak of hers.

Eventually Old Liu seemed to remember herself, made a pointed sound or two, and redirected the conversation toward Yunque, saying she mustn’t leave out the most important teacher Deng Jiao currently had.

As she said this, she nudged Lu Rangchen.

Then she noticed that Lu Rangchen had already been watching Yunque with an unreadable expression.

Prompted by Old Liu, Yunque slowly raised her eyes.

Their gazes met again.

Colliding and mingling in a way that made it feel as though, for that instant, only the two of them existed — neither clear nor resolved.

Old Liu, blissfully oblivious, seized the moment to make introductions.

She started with Yunque: she was a newly arrived English teacher at Yuhua School, highly capable, originally from the capital, and the results of the classes she’d recently taken over had been exceptional. Many of the male teachers at the school had their eye on her.

No sooner had she said this than Lu Rangchen raised an eyebrow and remarked, “So she’s from the capital.”

Yunque pressed her lips together and said nothing.

Old Liu, with the pride of a mother showing off her own daughter, said, “What’s so special about the capital? Her hometown is right here in South City — and South City is perfectly fine. She can be with her parents here.”

She then introduced Lu Rangchen: “This is Deng Jiao’s brother, Deng Zhe. You’ve met before. He runs a supermarket in that well-known club complex here in our city. Raises his little sister on his own — very capable young man.”

One of Old Liu’s friends laughed and said, “Old Liu, the way you’re making introductions, it sounds like you’re hosting a matchmaking event.”

Old Liu made a flustered sound and said, “Isn’t this exactly the right moment? These two are a perfect match in every way — of course I should give a proper introduction.”

But before the words were fully out of her mouth, Lu Rangchen remarked in a flat, indifferent tone: “A perfect match? I wouldn’t say so.”

The words landed.

The lively table fell instantly silent.

Some people’s smiles froze mid-air. Others exchanged glances.

Eyes darted across the table in tangled, complicated patterns.

Lu Rangchen fixed his gaze squarely on Yunque, his lips curling in something close to a sneer. “If I remember correctly, Teacher Zhu already has a suitable candidate by her side.”

His deep, dark eyes carried unmistakable undercurrents — the kind that left a person’s chest feeling unsettled.

Yunque gripped the fingers beneath the table, about to speak — but Old Liu interjected in surprise: “Yunque has someone? I hadn’t heard anything about that.”

In an instant, every gaze in the room came to rest on her.

Yunque met Lu Rangchen’s relentless, pressing stare, and parted her soft lips. She said, “That person is not.”

Her voice was clear, yet carried a faint tremor beneath the surface.

Like someone who has been wronged, too soft and too fragile to push back.

The sound of it made Lu Rangchen’s throat shift with a barely perceptible movement.

He couldn’t have said where the anger was coming from — but his jaw tightened, and he let out a low, admiring-sounding laugh.

In an instant, the atmosphere around the table turned cold enough that everyone sat up straighter, while also making it impossible not to read something more into the situation.

Old Liu was bewildered too, and said, “Is there some misunderstanding between you two?”

Nobody spoke.

Old Liu grew flustered. “If there is, just talk it out — you’re both adults, there’s nothing that can’t be said. And it would be a great opportunity to get properly acquainted, don’t you think? Yunque is even Deng Jiao’s teacher, so you’d say this is quite a good—”

“—opportunity” never made it out.

Lu Rangchen cut her off with a cold, contemptuous laugh, without a moment’s hesitation.

He said, “Forget it.”

His gaze was icy as it bore down on Yunque, each word deliberate and measured: “I have no interest in going back to pastures already grazed.”