When you thought about it, it was almost absurd.

Lu Rangchen — a man whose reputation resonated both within the sports world and far beyond it — had somehow maintained a solitary existence for eight years. The remarkable part was that those eight years had been genuinely celibate.

The clients and investors he dealt with on a regular basis were a morally lax bunch without exception. After every dinner, there had to be some kind of after-hours activity — either beautiful women brought in for drinking company, or someone picked up from a bar and taken back to a hotel.

It didn’t matter whether they had families or not. Those men simply could not control themselves, and considered this perfectly normal.

And yet, even submerged in that kind of environment, Lu Rangchen had never once strayed. Not so much as a one-night stand — those women hadn’t even managed to touch his hand.

Plenty of people in his circle had laughed behind his back, calling him falsely pure, or peculiar. Some had even questioned his orientation.

Lu Rangchen had never bothered to respond, and didn’t care. He simply felt, on a basic level, that physical intimacy without real feeling was sordid — and that the truest measure of a human being was the capacity to love someone properly.

Of course, he had considered it — starting over with someone new.

Maybe they were right. Maybe a new relationship would finally let him forget the person who had once existed in his life.

But feeling, as a thing, was elusive and capricious.

Every time Lu Rangchen met the wealthy heiresses Cheng Liru arranged for him, he was struck by a profound and uniform lack of interest.

Eventually, he’d simply stopped trying — he was busy enough with work, and when he had needs, well, he could take care of those himself.

So enough time passed that he genuinely forgot what kissing felt like.

Let alone the fact that the person in question was Yunque.

Some things, some feelings, can be hidden. But desire — desire was like a starving wolf catching the first scent of meat in years. Once it stirred, there was no concealing it.

Lu Rangchen still remembered how he’d kissed her — the savage, all-consuming urge to swallow her whole. He remembered her reddened eyes. He remembered the broken skin at the corner of her mouth where he’d been too rough.

Yunque had never expected the caller to be Lu Rangchen. She had expected the first thing out of his mouth even less.

The bluntness of it caught her completely off guard. Her ears went red.

It was the lunch break just then — the other young teachers in the office had their heads down on their desks, napping.

Yunque kept her voice low, paused for a moment, then answered his question with a question entirely: “How did you get my number?”

Soft-voiced and even-toned. Unreadable.

Lu Rangchen’s eyes dropped slightly. “Old Liu gave it to me.”

His voice was as magnetic and unhurried as ever — as though the humiliating way things had ended last night simply did not exist.

Then he added: “I asked you a question. Don’t change the subject.”

It was a commanding tone, neither cold nor warm, the kind that made you feel vaguely exasperated — and yet, for some reason, made your heart stutter.

Yunque touched the corner of her mouth.

Found that it was still a little tender.

A colleague had even asked her about it that morning — said her lip looked strange. Yunque, expression perfectly composed, had only said she was running a little hot internally.

But now, with Lu Rangchen asking directly, the embarrassment finally caught up to her.

An image surfaced unbidden: the two of them in the corridor last night, utterly absorbed in each other. She pressed her lips together and said, “You’re the one who wrecked it — you think it heals that fast?”

He caught the complaint in her words.

Lu Rangchen gave a low, amused sound, half-teasing: “So what do I do — make it up to you?”

“……”

Yunque decided this man truly hadn’t changed one bit since the old days.

Temperamental and inclined to trouble in equal measure.

She genuinely could not figure Lu Rangchen out.

He was the one who had kissed her. He was the one who had said no. And now he was the one who had picked up the phone to call her.

She had already steeled herself for a clean ending between them.

And yet — here was Lu Rangchen, somehow giving her the feeling that the crack between them might still be mended.

She was also still carrying that unspent breath from last night.

Yunque deliberately said nothing — but she didn’t hang up either.

They held each other in stubborn silence. After a stretch, it was Lu Rangchen who finally spoke.

He unwrapped a mint candy and put it in his mouth. The candy clicked against his teeth, and his low, resonant voice carried a warmth that pulled at something: “Are you free tonight?”

The words landed.

Yunque’s heartbeat clearly skipped a beat.

Even at half-speed, she couldn’t have missed the meaning beneath the surface.

For one fraction of a second, the word “free” was almost out of her mouth.

But it pulled back before it got there, and she said instead, “I have dinner plans tonight.”

Lu Rangchen made a sound of acknowledgment, casually asking, “What kind of plans? A blind date?”

“……”

Yunque genuinely wished she could reach through the phone and give him a look.

She didn’t manage to hold back the explanation: “My senior year homeroom teacher’s child is having an engagement banquet.”

Lu Rangchen paused slightly. “Zheng Guoxiong?”

Yunque said no, “Class A’s teacher, Niu Haifeng.”

That cued his memory — Yunque had spent the entirety of her third year of senior high school in Class A.

She had only been there for that single year, but Niu Haifeng had always treated her well, and she was in the city of Nancheng besides, so when the class president sent the notification, Yunque had agreed without hesitation.

The main reason, of course, was this:

A big gathering, lots of people. She wouldn’t have to go home after work and spend the evening alone, with Lu Rangchen occupying every blink of her eyes.

That reason, naturally, she did not share.

She mentioned only the first.

Lu Rangchen listened and gave no particular reaction, just said: “Alright.”

Yunque pressed her lips together. There was a sudden flare of resentment.

Then again — what else was there for him to say? Zhang Leyao and the others were going to the club tonight to practice with him. He had his own plans.

Earlier that morning, Zhang Leyao had held court loudly, going on about tennis gear to whoever would listen, reveling in it. She’d made no move to invite Yunque — that had clearly been deliberate.

She was visibly nursing a grudge over something Yunque had said to her.

The two of them had been at a frost point ever since.

Yunque couldn’t be bothered to make an issue of it. But that didn’t mean she’d erased it from memory entirely.

She was, in truth, a quietly vengeful person. She didn’t say it out loud, didn’t take it out on anyone — but she didn’t forget either. Even if the person in question was standing right in front of her, she would only hold the feeling down and face them with perfect composure.

Including right now, when she said, calmly, “Anything else? If not, I’m hanging up — lunch break is nearly over.”

The veneer of politeness couldn’t quite mask the chill underneath.

Lu Rangchen knew she was angry.

Honestly, her being angry wasn’t a bad thing. Being angry was proof she still cared.

Just like he himself, last night.

Her words had moved the ground under his feet — and still he’d been unable to stop himself from raging, from lashing out, from wanting to demand why she’d so casually thrown him aside back then.

In other words: he just wanted her to care.

Thinking that, Lu Rangchen let out a wry, quiet laugh. He was perfectly unruffled now.

He said, “Alright, then. I won’t keep you.”

Then, as an afterthought, paused — he’d been about to say something about Deng Jiao using her phone during class, asking Yunque to keep an eye on it — but before the words were even out, Yunque hung up without a moment’s hesitation.

The cold dial tone rang out like a crisp, clean slap to the face.

“……”

Lu Rangchen held his phone. Sat still for two beats. Then made a quiet, dry sound of amusement.

That afternoon, all the way through until the students were dismissed and the teachers had their meeting and left for the day, Yunque made no further contact with Lu Rangchen.

It was a Friday, so everyone was in an especially buoyant mood — even the laughter seemed lighter.

The most animated of all was Zhang Leyao.

She hadn’t stopped talking since the meeting ended, rallying everyone who was heading to the club and telling them to share a cab.

Yunque tuned it all out. She went to the office alone, gathered her things, and left the school grounds.

Niu Haifeng’s family had booked an engagement banquet at a hotel within the city’s inner ring road.

It wasn’t close to where Yunque lived. By the time she arrived by cab, it was nearly six o’clock.

The restaurant’s round tables were already filled when she arrived. Yunque connected with class president Li Chan only after she got there, and Li Chan brought her directly to the table nearest to the main hall.

As it turned out, quite a few alumni from Nancheng No. 3 Middle School had come.

They were all former students of Niu Haifeng’s. One round table, nearly fifteen people — more than half of them were faces Yunque recognized.

And those people recognized Yunque, too.

One of the women called out her name directly, saying, “Hey, isn’t that Yunque — the one who tested up from Class B? Didn’t expect to see you still in Nancheng.”

Her smile was a fraction too polished. “I’d assumed someone with your grades would be in the capital by now, making your fortune.”

The comment pulled the attention of the whole table toward Yunque.

Yunque looked at the woman, and a vague memory surfaced.

If she was thinking of the right person, this was Zhao Xiaoqiu — formerly close with Lin Zhinian, and someone who had been struggling at the bottom of Class A’s rankings. It was after Yunque and Zhao Qijia were admitted that Zhao Xiaoqiu had been moved out of Class A and never made it back.

The resentment that springs up between people is sometimes that simple.

Years might pass, but jealousy and grievance leave their imprint in memory — and at the first opportunity, they surface again.

Of course, Yunque didn’t count herself as blameless either.

So she simply ignored the woman entirely, turning to Li Chan to ask where the teacher was.

Caught off guard by the cold shoulder, Zhao Xiaoqiu blinked, then let her expression flatten into visible irritation and rolled her eyes.

Yunque acted as though she’d seen nothing.

Li Chan was a little awkward but said nothing of it, simply pointed Yunque in a direction and said, “Teacher Niu is over there — we can go say hello to him together in a bit.”

Yunque nodded in agreement.

The custom in Nancheng wasn’t particularly to give monetary gifts at events like these, but she had still prepared a quite generous red envelope.

Li Chan had done the same — Niu Haifeng had always been most attentive to these two girls.

The two of them hadn’t seen each other in a long time and got along easily, and so they naturally fell into conversation, catching up on old times. Before long, others at the table joined in.

They weren’t from Class A — they were students Niu Haifeng had taught as a subject teacher in other classes, so they didn’t know Yunque and Li Chan well, though they knew Zhao Xiaoqiu.

Those men had heard of Yunque by reputation, and now that she was here in person and clearly even more striking than they’d imagined, their flattery wasn’t particularly subtle.

Zhao Xiaoqiu hadn’t especially cared who those men paid attention to.

But being snubbed in front of everyone a moment ago was another matter.

People tend to gravitate together by temperament. And Zhao Xiaoqiu, carrying old Lin Zhinian’s grudge on top of her own, didn’t bother about whether Yunque engaged with her or not — she simply said, directly: “I heard you used to date Lu Rangchen. Is that true?”

The sharp, barely-veiled tone of it extinguished the easy warmth at the table instantly.

The whole group stared first at Zhao Xiaoqiu, then at Yunque.

This time it wasn’t a matter of whether Yunque chose to engage. A different voice broke in — one of Zhao Xiaoqiu’s classmates, genuinely astonished — saying, “Lu Rangchen? You mean the one from the school tennis team, the legendary guy? That was my idol.”

That name, once spoken, resonated through anyone who’d been at that school across three graduating cohorts.

And half the people at this table were from Yunque’s year.

One of the men laughed and said, “Impressive, beautiful — actually dating someone like him. I heard he transferred out in second year, his family had serious money.”

Another said, “Serious money isn’t the half of it — he was also brilliant. Teacher Niu used to sing his praises all the time — said information went into that brain once and stayed there.”

“No way, that’s actually true?”

“Absolutely, he was famous at No. 3 Middle School back then, girls from Class A were coming every day just to catch a glimpse of him.”

“Heard he’s done pretty well for himself too — runs his own sports club, reportedly clearing several million a year.”

A woman at the table who didn’t know Yunque well also chimed in, saying she’d heard it was actually the fine arts class representative who’d been closest to him.

Zhao Xiaoqiu perked up at that. She said in a sharp, insinuating tone: “Our Zhinian never had the nerve for that — she was always so obvious about everything, wearing every thought on her face. Nothing like those girls who are really skilled at it, all their maneuvering done where no one can see.”

She paused with an exaggerated, theatrical sound and said, “Oh — Yunque, I’m not talking about you, don’t misunderstand.”

Zhao Xiaoqiu smiled her artificial smile. “After all, you two didn’t date for that long — I heard maybe four months before it ended? That barely even counts as a real relationship.”

Then she looked over with an air of seemingly genuine curiosity and asked: “But why did you two break up? Who brought it up? Was it him?”

The woman blinked with wide, performative eyes — her manner as grating as it was calculated.

And the whole table was looking at Yunque with curious interest.

To be truthful, Yunque had never in her life been targeted like this by an outsider. In that split second, a flicker of something did show on her face.

She was not a person raised in the warmth of love and easy affection.

She was petty by nature — a keeper of accounts, someone who knew exactly who owed her what, who saw wrongs clearly and filed them away. Like how she’d snapped back at Zhang Leyao — she would retaliate when she was wronged.

Only this time, before she could open her mouth, the empty chair beside her was abruptly pulled back.

At the same moment, a set of car keys with a small bear charm attached landed on the round table with a click.

A cool, faintly austere scent of deep agarwood drifted through the air.

Yunque’s heart gave a start.

Under everyone’s gaze, Lu Rangchen dropped into the seat between Zhao Xiaoqiu and Yunque with a posture of practiced ease.

The next second, he turned to look at Zhao Xiaoqiu, whose expression had gone rigid with shock — and the corner of his mouth pulled into something that was not quite a smile, his tone languid and thoroughly careless as he said:

“She dumped me. What of it?”