When Lu Rangchen said those words, it wasn’t as if there were no passersby around.
The passersby were quite curious too, casting sidelong glances at this striking pair — a man and a woman of exceptional appearance. Those who didn’t know better might have assumed they were some online influencers filming a drama skit on location.
He actually found it rather irritating when people looked him over.
Yet in that moment, for some inexplicable reason, he was able to ignore it entirely — holding Yunque’s IV drip bottle, neither retreating nor advancing, as though if she didn’t say a single word in reply, he could stand here beside her for the entire duration of the drip.
Even his gaze seemed to be saying: so you won’t answer, fine — we’ll just drag this out right here, and don’t even think about going upstairs.
Yunque understood that wretched temper of his.
So she didn’t struggle.
She simply let out a light, airy sentence, saying, “Lu Rangchen, my head hurts.”
Her enunciation was soft and tender, like someone frail with illness.
It wasn’t an act, and she wasn’t performing.
Her cold had hit her hard. Even though the injection she’d received yesterday had helped considerably, she still felt miserable at that moment.
Not to mention the fine drizzle that was still falling now.
Seeing how she looked — as though she were genuinely suffering — Lu Rangchen’s brow furrowed slightly. He suppressed a breath with restrained patience.
In the end he yielded to her, turning to push the door open.
During the entire way upstairs afterward, he never once spoke to Yunque — including the moment when the elevator was crowded and Yunque tugged him inward; he only drooped his eyes lazily, shot her a glance without any change in expression, and then lazily looked ahead again.
Yunque knew he was sulking at her.
Even though he hadn’t expressed it.
She just knew.
She wasn’t trying to toy with him either — she wasn’t that confident in herself. She was simply gambling: gambling on whether she held enough weight in Lu Rangchen’s heart.
The result was, she seemed to have won that bet.
They reached the twelfth floor, stepped out of the elevator, and arrived at the door of her apartment.
A three-tiered low shoe rack sat by the entrance.
On the shoe rack were three pairs of shoes.
Two styles of men’s slippers. One pair of men’s athletic shoes.
Lu Rangchen cast a seemingly casual glance at them, thinking of the woman on the phone yesterday who had asked Yunque about men’s shoes.
Yunque knew he was looking.
She said nothing, and simply used her un-injected hand to open the door.
A faint, pleasant fragrance drifted out to meet them from inside.
A familiar scent, similar to what lingered on her.
Lu Rangchen came back to his senses and followed Yunque inside — only to hesitate for a brief, instinctive moment after stepping through the door.
Yunque turned her head and looked at him, saying, “The slippers by the entrance are new. The size matches yours.”
Her expression was remarkably calm as she said this, her gaze direct and unwavering, as though she didn’t mind at all if he read too much into it, and didn’t mind at all if she were seen through.
Yet how sharp was Lu Rangchen.
He knew her far too well.
She always appeared perfectly composed on the surface, yet she would always, in some offhand, unguarded moment, hook you — so that you couldn’t help but be led along by her.
Eight years ago it was the same. Eight years later, it was still the same.
Like a dead loop.
Lu Rangchen gave an almost imperceptible twitch at the corner of his mouth. He truly hesitated for an instant — yet in the end, he only lifted his chin slightly and said, “I’ll see you inside first.”
That tone gave no hint of whether he was pleased or not.
And gave even less hint of whether he intended to stay.
He simply went in, hung the drip bottle on the curtain rod, and settled Yunque in.
The sofa was broad and long, upholstered in fabric. Her slight frame lay down against it, and the outer robe she wore over her slip dress slid from her fair, soft shoulder.
It caught in his peripheral vision without his meaning it to.
Lu Rangchen shifted his gaze away expressionlessly, his throat moving quietly, and at the moment he turned to leave, Yunque suddenly caught his hand.
Her slender, soft fingertips were like tender buds, curling around his broad, warm palm, carrying a cool jade-like chill.
A needle-prick seemed to pierce his chest. Lu Rangchen’s footsteps stopped. He lowered his eyes to look at her.
At this moment Yunque lay directly beneath his gaze, her skin carrying a sort of luminous, vitality-tinged white. Her doe-like eyes were bright and clear and deep, and the gaze she turned on him was entirely real — yet also entirely ambiguous.
She said, “Are you leaving?”
Her slightly moist voice was like a feather disturbing the very tip of the heart.
Her eyes, too, seemed to be holding something important — unwilling to let go.
Lu Rangchen clenched his jaw, looked at her for a few seconds, and then looked away with a hint of impatience.
The flame in his heart flickered for a moment.
Yunque’s throat tightened slightly. For one brief second, her fingertips had already begun to loosen.
But just at that instant before she fully let go —
Lu Rangchen’s voice, low and composed, finally opened. He said unhurriedly, “Didn’t you want steamed fish?”
The tone made it difficult to say there wasn’t a trace of vexation in it.
Yet it was still tender enough.
Tender enough that Yunque’s heart gave a sudden throb.
The heart that had been nearly deathly still came back to life, beating vividly once more.
They were silent for two seconds.
Lu Rangchen, seeing she said nothing, glanced at her again, his gaze level, and said, “Don’t tell me you actually have some at home.”
“……”
Of course she didn’t have any at home.
She couldn’t cook it, and there was no one who would cook it for her.
Even the words she’d said yesterday had been a heat-of-the-moment offhand probe. Yunque had never imagined it would become real.
It was Lu Rangchen who had chosen, once again, to bow his head for her sake.
She couldn’t quite say which feeling in that moment was what made her heart ache more. Yunque pressed her lips together and finally let go of his hand.
Lu Rangchen walked to the door. At the instant he pushed it open, he turned back and asked her, “What’s the door lock passcode?”
Yunque lifted her eyes to look at him. For quite a few seconds she said nothing.
Lu Rangchen suddenly laughed.
There was no small measure of impatience in that laugh. He had in truth been irritated all along — irritated at himself for being so casually toyed with by a woman again and again, and being entirely helpless about it.
At most he could only snap back at her with a cutting tone, saying, “Yunque, have you gone mute?”
“……”
Yunque shook her head, then looked away again, like a helpless little child, turning her face toward the back of the sofa.
Her soft, rounded head faced Lu Rangchen.
Lu Rangchen was momentarily stuck. The stubborn stone in his heart softened slightly.
The next second, he heard her soft, gentle voice say quietly, “1006.”
It was in that very instant.
Something seemed to flash through Lu Rangchen all at once, and his brow gave a sudden twitch.
- October sixth.
That was the day they had first gotten together.
Counting from that to the day they parted, their official relationship had lasted just over four months. To people nowadays, four months barely even qualified as a serious relationship — yet to Lu Rangchen, those four months were enough to change the rest of his life.
Suddenly he found it quite laughable.
Both helpless and laughable.
Laughable that someone like him — someone like that — would let himself sink to this state over a first love. Helpless that as long as she offered him even the slightest sweetness, even mixed with shards of glass, he would accept it all without question.
Of course he also understood now why Yunque had just been hemming and hawing, unwilling to say it aloud.
Here was a person who had been so utterly decisive when she broke things off back then — and yet she’d been using the date of their relationship as her door lock passcode.
But who could say for certain.
Who could say with certainty she hadn’t just grown so used to it that she’d forgotten to change it — or that it wasn’t deliberate, deliberate manipulation.
How much genuine feeling did she actually have?
Lu Rangchen didn’t know. He didn’t know what she was trying to do either.
He was too tired to think about it anymore. He only gave a self-deprecating snort of laughter, tossed out a “Yunque, you’ve got some nerve,” and closed the door behind him with a sharp click.
Just like that, a good while passed.
Only then did Yunque turn her head and look toward the door.
In the air, a faint trace of Lu Rangchen’s pleasant scent still lingered — the agarwood fragrance that had, at some point, already been switched back.
She sniffed.
Whether it was because of the illness or because of Lu Rangchen, she couldn’t say — but her eyes reddened all at once.
That day, Lu Rangchen kept his word.
Places selling live fish nearby were rare, so he could only drive to a large supermarket to buy fresh sea fish and seasonings, then rush back to remove Yunque’s IV needle.
With the exchange they’d had earlier.
The atmosphere between the two seemed to have eased considerably.
Although quiet, it was far from the awkwardness and oppression of before.
Of course there was nothing of great substance said between them either — it was nothing more than Lu Rangchen asking where things were, and her telling him.
One had to admit: Lu Rangchen’s abilities were rather impressive.
A person who had been a golden child adored by all from youth — yet he was not the slightest bit lacking in practical life skills. He could do everything well, even generously lending his care to an ex-girlfriend.
The kitchen that had never been lit came alive with a sudden warmth.
The sounds of cooking and stir-frying, along with the distinct rhythm of Lu Rangchen’s footsteps — all of it made Yunque feel an almost excessive sense of tranquility, so much so that without realizing it, she drifted off to sleep.
When she woke again, Lu Rangchen was already prepared to remove the drip needle.
He had been peeling back the adhesive tape on her hand with his eyes lowered. It was only when he noticed her blearily opening her eyes that he glanced at her, let out a soft amused hum, and said, “Yunque, you really have a big heart — aren’t you afraid I’d just abandon you here?”
“……”
For some reason, Yunque didn’t like hearing him call her by her full name all the time.
But she had nothing she could say about it.
She could only knit her brows slightly and sit up.
Lu Rangchen assumed she was afraid of pain. He instinctively clenched his jaw, slowing and steadying his movements. By the time Yunque had barely registered what was happening, his practiced motion had already drawn the slender needle cleanly from the back of her hand.
The speed was such that there was not a trace of pain.
But blood seeped through the tape.
Lu Rangchen expertly pressed down on the bleeding spot for her. The sudden sting made Yunque draw a soft breath through her teeth, then bite down on her lip.
“……”
Lu Rangchen glanced up at her, then eased the pressure, saying, “Press it yourself.”
As he said this, he released her hand.
Yunque obediently pressed down, and her stiffened body gradually loosened up quite a bit.
She couldn’t help saying, “You’re quite practiced at this.”
Lu Rangchen gave an assenting hum, stood up to help her remove the drip bottle, and said casually, “During the period when my mother was very ill, I was always the one watching over her drip injections.”
Honestly speaking, it was quite an unguarded remark.
Yet in Yunque’s heart, it landed with the weight of a blade.
Lu Rangchen also caught himself a beat later, his chest giving a jolt, and he immediately looked toward Yunque.
As though through some subtle and unspoken understanding.
The two locked eyes once more.
Tied together by that gaze — it was only when looking at each other that one felt a reluctance to look away.
But the one who had caused the hurt inevitably felt guilt.
Yunque’s face was pale with a fragile quality. Her lips had little color. Yet she still forced a smile at him with effort, saying, “Has Auntie been well these years?”
Hearing this.
Lu Rangchen’s throat tightened slightly, and he finally looked away.
Lowering his gaze to roll up the drip tube, his tone was calm as he said, “She’s doing well. These years have been happy for her. She’s found a new love too. You don’t need to—”
He didn’t finish the sentence.
Yunque interrupted him, saying, “And what about you?”
“……”
His movements stopped. Lu Rangchen looked at her with deep, direct eyes.
His gaze flickered gently like candlelight in a rainy night. Yunque met his eyes, her voice slightly hoarse and rough. She said, “These years — have you been well? Have you been happy?”