By the time Chi Yao finished packing everything, Lin Zhexia had stopped crying.

Throughout her life, she had cried in front of Chi Yao countless times.

But this was the first time Chi Yao didn’t know the real reason for her tears.

Chi Yao carried her backpack as they walked toward the school exit. “Scaredy-cat, want some milk tea?”

Lin Zhexia walked behind him. “…Don’t want any.”

“If you insist on treating me,” Lin Zhexia deliberately pretended nothing had happened, “you can give me the cash instead, just pretend I drank it. I’m short on allowance this month anyway.”

The atmosphere immediately relaxed.

Sure enough, Chi Yao turned his head while waiting for her to catch up. “Dream on.”

“…”

After returning, Lin Zhexia just wanted to get home quickly, but as she was about to leave, Chi Yao grabbed her heavy winter uniform collar, as if carrying an object, and pulled her into his home.

Then she watched as Chi Yao put down his backpack and casually took off his coat, tossing it onto the sofa.

Underneath, he wore only a sweater, still hanging loosely on his body, looking very different from his proper school uniform appearance. He seemed much more relaxed and unrestrained, even giving off a subtle sense of intimacy.

He took out paper and a pen, roughly writing down the math problems they’d taken in the exam. “The last problem, a function problem.”

“The third-to-last problem, solid geometry.”

Twirling his pen, he said, “Go home after you’ve listened.”

Lin Zhexia responded with an “Oh” and obediently sat beside him, listening to his explanations.

Perhaps because she had cried today.

Chi Yao explained the problems more thoroughly than usual. Though his handwriting on the paper was sharp, Lin Zhexia felt an unusual gentleness.

“Do you understand? If not, I’ll explain again.”

Lin Zhexia had actually looked at example problems in her textbook after leaving the exam. Still, she listened attentively, then said, “I understand. I won’t make those mistakes again.”

Next time, she wouldn’t cry.

And she wouldn’t think about these feelings anymore.

She would carefully hide them away.

Because they would be advancing to their senior year after next semester, they were given so much winter homework that there was no time to go out and play. The words “winter vacation” seemed to have been erased this year.

The only time Lin Zhexia went out during this winter break was due to a phone call from He Yang: “Are you free tomorrow? Bring Brother Yao along. My treat. I’ll take you both to see a movie.”

Lin Zhexia’s first reaction was suspicion: “Why are you being so nice?”

He Yang: “I’ve always been this generous.”

“You have a problem with your self-perception, and your memory might also be somewhat disordered,” Lin Zhexia said. “Da Zhuang, you should visit the hospital sometime.”

He Yang: “…”

He Yang: “I’m treating you. It just feels like we haven’t gotten together in a long time.”

Lin Zhexia decisively made a demand: “I want popcorn and cola too.”

“…” He Yang was silent for a moment. “Fine, tomorrow at 2 p.m., meet at the entrance of the neighborhood.”

If she had known what day tomorrow was, given another chance, she wouldn’t have gone even if He Yang had bought her double portions of popcorn.

But life has no “if only.”

The next day, she, Chi Yao, and He Yang set out from their neighborhood and walked to the cinema.

Just as they arrived at the entrance of the cinema, they saw a huge poster standing at the door.

Pink, with a big heart, with words saying: 2.14 Happy Valentine’s Day.

…

The cinema was crowded with people coming and going, most of them couples.

Lin Zhexia looked at the poster and questioned: “Da Zhuang, explain yourself.”

He Yang, who had just collected the tickets, played dumb and chuckled a couple of times.

Lin Zhexia: “What did I say yesterday? I knew something was wrong when you were being so nice.”

He Yang just continued to chuckle.

Lin Zhexia: “But I didn’t expect the problem would be so serious.”

She closed her eyes briefly and spoke with restraint: “What were you thinking? Let’s hear it. Although I’m not a doctor, I might still try to understand your thoughts.”

He Yang finally spoke up: “Well, watching a movie is just watching a movie, why care about what day it is? Is this kind of insignificant holiday really important?”

After he finished, he noticed both Lin Zhexia and Chi Yao silently staring at him.

Especially his Brother, Yao.

With that face, appearing at this place on this particular holiday, passersby couldn’t help but glance over.

“Alright, I’ll just tell you the truth.”

He Yang, holding the tickets, showed rare embarrassment as he said, “Actually, I was showing off in front of my classmates. I said I’d celebrate this day. With my charm, asking a girl out for a movie would be no big deal.”

“…”

“Then I asked a girl in my class if she wanted to watch a movie together, but I got rejected.”

“Even though I was rejected, I still had to see the movie; otherwise, where would I put my face?”

“What, are single people not allowed to celebrate Valentine’s Day? Today I want to spend this holiday with you two, my good buddies of many years. The three of us will have a sweet time together.”

As soon as He Yang finished speaking, Lin Zhexia and Chi Yao had the same reaction without prior coordination.

Lin Zhexia: “Bye-bye.”

Chi Yao: “I’m leaving. Go watch by yourself.”

He Yang hurriedly stepped forward to stop them: “No, I already bought the tickets, three of them, plus popcorn combos. Cost me quite a bit. Even though there’s a reason behind it, my desire to invite you to watch a movie is sincere! You can’t just abandon me like this!!!”

Lin Zhexia thought of her popcorn and hesitated slightly, her footsteps faltering.

So He Yang turned to the cold-hearted one and called out: “Brother Yao, do me a favor.”

Chi Yao: “Get lost.”

“…”

He Yang continued to plead: “Good brother, it wasn’t easy for me to save up money for these movie tickets.”

Chi Yao held back but slowed his pace: “Shut up.”

Finally, He Yang squeezed out one phrase: “Yaoyao!”

Two minutes later, all three were sitting in the corner of the waiting area.

Afraid they might run away, He Yang sat in the middle, with one on each side.

Lin Zhexia, on his right, held popcorn.

Chi Yao on his left had a cold expression, one hand in his pocket, the other pulling his jacket zipper all the way up, collar raised to cover half his face. Only his high, straight nose and slightly arrogant, downcast eyes were visible.

He Yang: “Is sitting with me so embarrassing? You don’t need to be like that.”

Chi Yao said coldly, “Good, that you know.”

He Yang: “…”

There were still more than ten minutes before the movie started.

Lin Zhexia ate popcorn, wondering how she had ended up “celebrating” with Chi Yao by coincidence.

Undeniably, at the moment she sat down.

She was somewhat grateful to He Yang.

Because without this setup, she would have found no reason, no legitimate position, to watch a movie with Chi Yao today.

He Yang snatched a piece of popcorn from her hand and put it in his mouth: “Brother Xia, what are you thinking about?”

Lin Zhexia came back to reality and said, “I’m thinking about what tool I should use to beat you up when we get back.”

He Yang hesitated, but finally gathered his courage to speak: “Actually… I have one more unreasonable request.”

“?”

“Could you take a photo with me? You don’t need to show your face, just hold the movie ticket and show your hand and ticket stub.”

“I, uh, want to post on social media.”

He Yang continued: “I’ve already told everyone I’m going out to watch a movie, so I have to show off the ticket stub.”

Lin Zhexia felt the popcorn in her mouth becoming difficult to swallow.

She asked: “So you plan to cover one lie with countless others?”

He Yang urged, “Help a brother out. If you don’t want to show your hand, you can hide it in your sleeve. Hurry up, Brother Xia, I’m already in position.”

“…”

Lin Zhexia looked at He Yang, who was holding his phone up with one hand, ready to take a picture and clutching the ticket stub with the other, feeling caught in a dilemma.

This guy, He Yang.

Did he have a stroke or something?

How could he come up with such a terrible idea to cover up his lie?

It was a small matter.

And she was very familiar with He Yang, but this kind of thing didn’t seem quite appropriate.

Before she could decide how to refuse, suddenly a cold voice, somewhat distant from her, abruptly spoke up: “You can borrow my hand.”

He Yang: “…!”

Lin Zhexia: “…?!”

Chi Yao pulled his hand out of his pocket and asked: “Where’s the ticket?”

Chi Yao’s words were surreal.

He Yang’s mouth hung open as he struggled to say: “That doesn’t seem appropriate.”

Chi Yao snickered: “You could think of asking her to show off ticket stubs, what’s not appropriate about this?”

He Yang: “It’s mainly not appropriate… with you.”

Chi Yao’s previously downcast eyes lifted slightly. As if his competitive spirit had awakened, he said with a twisted smile: “What? My hand isn’t as pretty as hers?”

He Yang could barely speak coherently: “No, although your fingers are quite slender and your hands look good, the knuckles are still obviously a man’s.”

“Anyone can tell it’s a male hand. Wouldn’t people laugh at me if I posted this…”

Chi Yao silenced him with one sentence: “You can photoshop it.”

He Yang: “…………”

He Yang screamed internally.

So you even know about Photoshop.

Lin Zhexia felt like a spectator, suddenly becoming just an onlooker, the kind who couldn’t close her mouth.

After speaking, the young man’s outstretched hand impatiently waved in the air, urging him: “Ticket.”

All their tickets were with He Yang.

He Yang’s expression was twisted and complex, his hand trembling slightly as he held out the ticket. Finally, he made one last plea to Lin Zhexia: “Brother Xia.”

Lin Zhexia moved a bit to the side: “Don’t look at me. I won’t take a photo with you.”

He Yang accepted his fate.

“Fine, a hand is a hand,” He Yang closed his eyes, steeled himself, “I can photoshop it.”

He casually pulled out a ticket for Chi Yao and handed the extra one to Lin Zhexia.

However, Chi Yao glanced at it and said, “Give me a different one.”

He Yang looked at this Row 6, Seat 13 ticket, not understanding why it was being rejected: “They’re all movie tickets, what’s the difference?”

Chi Yao casually responded with an “Oh”: “13, unlucky. Don’t want it.”

He Yang was speechless and swapped tickets with Chi Yao.

Then the two boys.

Holding tickets.

Put their hands together.

After taking the photo, He Yang quickly lowered his hand.

Although Chi Yao’s hand was photogenic, with long fingers, each knuckle perfectly proportioned, requiring little angle adjustment to look good in photos, this picture was still somewhat difficult to look at directly.

The movie was about to start, and they began checking tickets for entry.

After Chi Yao stood up, He Yang called out to him: “Chi Yao.”

Chi Yao didn’t even spare him a glance: “What other nonsense do you have?”

He Yang’s voice was strained, and he seemed somewhat awkward: “No, I just wanted to ask, you don’t… have those kinds of feelings for me all this time, do you?”

“…”

“Although I don’t look as good as you, I’m still somewhat charming. And come to think of it, you never seem to have liked any girls.”

This time Chi Yao gave him a bit of eye contact, his eyebrow slightly raised, the corner of his eye turning downward: “How long have you had these symptoms?”

He Yang: “…”

“If you feel life has been too smooth lately,” Chi Yao added, “no need to be so roundabout. I can put you in the hospital for half a month right now.”

Lin Zhexia, who had been quietly invisible on the side, burst into violent coughing.

“Sorry, that was too fascinating,” Lin Zhexia explained between coughs. “I wasn’t paying attention while drinking, almost choked to death on cola.”

After being interrupted by Lin Zhexia, they stopped discussing the photo incident and queued behind the crowd to have their tickets checked.

Mainly because both parties involved wanted to pretend nothing had happened.

They desperately wanted to package up what had just occurred and throw it into a recycling bin labeled “embarrassing history.”

Lin Zhexia was the last to have her ticket checked.

Only when handing her ticket to the attendant did she carefully look at the movie ticket she’d been assigned.

The one in her hand was Row 6, Seat 11.

After Chi Yao swapped tickets with He Yang, he would be sitting right next to her.

This was such an ordinary detail, yet her heartbeat began to accelerate because of it.

Simply because he would be sitting beside her soon.

After having her ticket checked, Lin Zhexia wasn’t paying attention to where she was going.

She followed her intuition and walked forward. Because the crowd was so dense, she accidentally followed the people in front of her and turned left.

Suddenly, a force from behind pulled her back.

Chi Yao had somehow appeared behind her.

“Wrong way,” Chi Yao’s hand rested on top of her head, indicating for her to stop. “Theater 2 is on the right.”