By the time Lin Zhexia finished washing up, Lan Xiaoxue and the others had returned from exploring the campus.

When her roommates pushed open the door, Lin Zhexia had changed into her pajamas and was sitting on her bed, talking on the phone with Lin He.

She first reported to Lin He about her new school situation.

Lin He said on the other end of the phone: “Alright, take care of yourself out there. With you alone at Lian University, your Uncle Wei and I easily worry.”

Lin Zhexia said, “Mom.”

Lin He: “Hmm?”

“I’m not alone at Lian University.”

She paused, then added: “Chi Yao is here too.”

Lin He was also surprised: “He applied to Lian University too?”

Lin Zhexia made an affirmative sound.

Lin He: “I hadn’t heard about this. After he moved away, we didn’t keep in touch much. My fault. I should have checked in on him before the exams. What major is he in? With his grades, he must be in the best program, right? Next time you see him, congratulate him for me.”

Lin Zhexia thought to herself that it wasn’t just her mother—she hadn’t dared ask either: “It’s the most prestigious program at our school.”

At this point in the conversation, she finally said: “My roommates are back. I’ll hang up now.”

After ending the call, she discovered Lan Xiaoxue and the others sitting in a neat row across from her, as if they were about to interrogate her.

Lin Zhexia felt a bit nervous: “…You’re done exploring? Was it fun around here?”

Lan Xiaoxue interrupted: “Don’t change the subject.”

Lin Zhexia: “…”

Lan Xiaoxue: “Tell us the story about your boyfriend.”

No way.

How had their way of referring to Chi Yao become increasingly strange???

An hour ago, he was still “brother.”

She already couldn’t accept the “brother” title, and now it had jumped to “boyfriend.”

Lin Zhexia hurriedly denied it, the tips of her ears turning red: “No, he’s not my boyfriend. He was just talking nonsense back at the bar. We’re just good friends who grew up together.”

Lan Xiaoxue didn’t believe her at all. She pulled up the newly added contact, clicked on the cat avatar, and thrust it in front of her: “Never mind him publicly saying he’s your brother. Look at this avatar—what does it make you think of?”

Lin Zhexia: “…I think it’s a WeChat avatar.”

“…”

Lan Xiaoxue was speechless and gave her a hint: “Today, how many people in the whole school wanted to add him? Not one succeeded. Yet because we’re your roommates, he added us.”

Under Lin Zhexia’s forceful denials, Lan Xiaoxue and the others stopped questioning her.

Besides, in a little while, the dormitory lights would go out and the power would be cut, so they were busy taking turns washing up.

At ten o’clock sharp, the dormitory lights went out, and the power was cut.

Lying in the unfamiliar dormitory bed, Lin Zhexia truly felt the strangeness of her surroundings.

She, Chi Yao, and He Yang had grown up and together left Nanxiang Street, where they had lived since childhood.

They would no longer rush out of their homes with backpacks like before, call on a few childhood friends, and walk to school from the Nanxiang Street sign.

Instead, they were entering a brand-new world.

A world that bid farewell to Nanxiang Street and gradually bid farewell to their youth.

Before sleeping, Lin Zhexia hesitated about whether to chat with Chi Yao.

Just as her finger tapped on the cat avatar that Chi Yao had used for many years, Lan Xiaoxue’s words involuntarily popped into her mind.

It wasn’t like that.

Lin Zhexia didn’t dare to have any expectations.

…

Anyway, it wasn’t what they thought.

Chi Yao wasn’t normally good with people. Besides, she was in college now—him symbolically adding her roommates as friends made sense. If he couldn’t find her when something came up, having her roommates as contacts would make communication easier. So adding them as friends was quite normal, right?

After all, at Lian University, they only had each other to rely on for now.

While she was hesitating, a new message appeared in the chat.

Chi Yao had messaged her first.

The chat box contained only three simple words—

Can’t sleep

This didn’t sound like something Chi Yao would say.

Because the three words “can’t sleep” seemed like he was deliberately showing vulnerability.

Lin Zhexia replied: What time did you go to sleep last night

Chi: Around 3 AM

Lin Zhexia: …

So late.

Lin Zhexia, curled up under her blanket, carefully typed: Just lie in bed and close your eyes, maybe you’ll fall asleep after a while.

Chi Yao replied with a question mark.

Chi:?

After the question mark, he added: If I remember correctly, someone took my cigarettes before leaving—

This person—

Took them and don’t plan to do anything about it.

“…”

Lin Zhexia’s face grew warm at his accusatory tone.

She slowly typed: But if we call, all my roommates are already asleep…

Two seconds later, she deleted this message.

She finally sent: Let’s call then, but my roommates are asleep, so I can’t talk, only type.

Almost the instant she sent it, a voice call came in from him.

Lin Zhexia found her earphones, put them in her ears, and held her breath as she accepted the call.

Chi Yao’s side was quite noisy. In the boys’ dormitory, even after lights out, there were many other entertainment activities. Judging from the chaotic background sounds, they seemed to be playing games, with someone shouting, “Don’t use your ultimate yet.”

Lin Zhexia heard his voice come through from the other end of the phone: “Asleep?”

Lin Zhexia typed her response: Yes.

“Then you sleep,” he said. “Just leave the call connected and put it aside.”

Lin Zhexia: I’m not very sleepy yet.

She typed again to chat with him: How many people are in your dorm?

“Four.”

Lin Zhexia: So few.

“Mm-hmm.”

Lin Zhexia thought about how he had added her roommates as friends, so she decided to reciprocate: I… should add your roommates too, in case I can’t reach you later, I could ask them.

She thought Chi Yao would certainly not refuse.

But unexpectedly, Chi Yao said without even thinking: “They don’t have phones.”

Lin Zhexia: ……

“They’re impoverished students,” Chi Yao said. “Try to understand.”

Was she an idiot?

She could hear someone shouting, “Why did you use your ultimate so slowly?” and someone else shouting, “Clear the mid lane.”

Lin Zhexia was speechless. She furiously typed on the screen: I don’t want to stay on the call with you anymore—

It’s draining my battery—

Let’s just end it here, I’m hanging up.

There was some rustling on Chi Yao’s end, the sound of a sliding door opening, followed by a faint chirping of cicadas, making Lin Zhexia realize that Chi Yao had probably gone to the dorm balcony.

Then she heard him say, “Fine, then give me back my cigarettes.”

“…”

Lin Zhexia could only endure the humiliation.

Without any backbone, she recalled the sentences she had just typed one by one.

[You recalled a message]

[You recalled a message]

[You recalled a message]

After recalling them, she reorganized her thoughts: I think staying on a call with you is quite nice, actually, neither of us is allowed to hang up tonight.

Chi Yao made a familiar light scoffing sound on the other end of the phone.

Just then, Lan Xiaoxue softly called her: “Xiaxia.”

Lin Zhexia emerged from under the covers: “Hmm?”

Lan Xiaoxue didn’t know she was on a call, and just wanted to share some information: “I was just scrolling through the school’s confession wall and saw you mentioned. I’ll send it to you. Seems like a guy from the same major and class as you who met you during freshman registration and is asking who you are.”

“…”

Lin Zhexia was momentarily stunned, then felt embarrassed: “You don’t need to send it to me.”

Lan Xiaoxue: “I already sent it. It’s fine, just take a look.”

The dormitory fell silent again.

Belatedly, Lin Zhexia realized she was still on the call with Chi Yao.

She didn’t know if Chi Yao had heard.

It was somewhat embarrassing for a male to overhear this kind of girls’ night talk.

She listened quietly to the other end of the phone and found that Chi Yao wasn’t speaking. After waiting for a while, she guessed that he probably hadn’t heard.

Otherwise, this person would have found an opportunity to mock her.

After a moment of quiet, Lin Zhexia began to feel drowsy, her consciousness growing increasingly blurry, and the messages she sent started to contain typos. Chi Yao seemed to notice this and stopped chatting with her. In the end, the two of them just listened to each other’s shallow breathing through the receiver.

A little later, Lin Zhexia heard a “good night.”

She fell into a deep sleep with Chi Yao’s goodnight.

Before her consciousness completely disappeared, she vaguely thought that something between her and Chi Yao seemed different.

After starting college, Chi Yao’s attitude toward her seemed different from high school, with subtle differences she couldn’t quite articulate.

But as the person involved, it was difficult for her to see clearly what the difference was—

Meanwhile, in the boys’ dormitory.

Chi Yao stood on the balcony for a while, confirmed that Lin Zhexia had fallen asleep, and quietly ended the call before sliding open the balcony door to enter the dorm.

Rather than his “can’t sleep” problem.

The real purpose of this call was his concern that Lin Zhexia might not adapt well to the new environment.

After all, it was her first time away from home, and she might not be used to sleeping at night.

He walked back into the dorm, where it was still noisy, with everyone playing games and asking: “—Do you know any girls we could add? The kind we can add as friends? In high school, there were too many restrictions, but now we’re in college. I think college learning isn’t just about knowledge, but also about learning how to interact with people.”

Another person said, “If you want to date, just say so. You don’t need to elevate it to the perspective of ‘social interaction.'”

“…”

As they were talking, they saw Chi Yao come out, so someone steered the topic toward him: “Getting contact information is easy. We’ve got someone right here. I bet if he wanted to, he could add every girl in the school, and then you could slowly pick through his contacts.”

Chi Yao didn’t say anything, just glanced at them. Having spent less than half a day together, these roommates had more or less figured out his temperament, so they immediately changed tactics: “Or how about this—you can post your WeChat ID, saying you’re Chi Yao’s roommate, and many people would still flock to you.”

“Once people come, that’s your opportunity. It doesn’t matter who they were initially interested in. Even enemies can become friends; nothing is impossible.”

The dorm was pitch black.

Chi Yao didn’t participate in the discussion and simply walked past them, sitting in a chair by the bed to reply to other messages.

Chi Hanshan, Bai Qin, Xu Ting, and…

Chi Yao scrolled down his contacts and finally saw He Yang’s messages buried under numerous others.

He Yang’s messages had gone unanswered for months.

He Yang: Bro

He Yang: Filed the applications. I’m going to Lian Yun Normal University. Where are you applying?

He Yang: Are you staying in Jing City or coming back to Lian Yun?

He Yang: …

He Yang: Are you still alive?

Chi Yao replied with two words: Lian University.

He Yang responded quickly, sending back a long string of ellipses: …………….

Then he immediately called.

“So you remember me,” He Yang accused from the other end. “I thought I’d become a corpse in your contacts list—either you were dead or I was.”

Chi Yao said, “I was too busy lately, didn’t see your messages.”

He Yang insisted on stabbing himself: “Did you not see my summer brother’s messages either?”

“…”

“You replied to her messages!” After years of friendship, He Yang got his answer from Chi Yao’s brief silence, thinking to himself, even if you like her, you shouldn’t treat us so differently. “My messages don’t count as messages!”

Chi Yao changed the subject: “Let’s get food tomorrow.”

He Yang immediately took the bait: “I want something very expensive.”

Chi Yao’s temple twitched: “Fine.”

The night deepened.

Chi Yao’s cigarette craving surfaced, and he instinctively went to the balcony to smoke, but when he returned to the balcony, he belatedly remembered that he had voluntarily surrendered his cigarettes.

So he pinched his knuckles, suppressing his craving, and suddenly said: “Let me ask you something.”

—I was just scrolling through the school’s confession wall and saw that you mentioned.

The casual words from Lin Zhexia’s roommate during their call floated up.

A notion deeply hidden in his heart surfaced along with it, more unbearable than the nicotine craving because it had been concealed for too long and too deeply. The following words weren’t easy for him to say; he struggled to ask: “…What kind of person do you think Lin Zhexia would like?”

He Yang was also on his dorm balcony enjoying the breeze, thinking: Should I pretend I don’t know, or should I pretend I don’t know?

He truly regretted it.

Regretted why, on the day Chi Yao left, he had pushed open that door.

He Yang ran through various answers in his mind, finally picking one that seemed most like “I don’t know”: “Not sure, she’s never dated anyone, how would I know? But why are you suddenly asking this?”

Why.

Chi Yao leaned against the balcony railing, asking himself.

Listening to the various sounds coming from other dormitory windows, he thought there were many reasons.

He and Lin Zhexia were no longer immature and constrained high school students.

They had emerged from constraints and academic pressure, gaining the right to face more of life’s lessons.

What they would learn in the future wasn’t just academics, but many other things as well.

…

But more than this reason.

The more important reason was their separation over the past year.

Before Chi Hanshan’s incident, before he and Lin Zhexia parted, he thought that by hiding his feelings, his relationship with Lin Zhexia wouldn’t go wrong, wouldn’t falter, wouldn’t change because of his “liking” her.

Even more, it wouldn’t be lost because he crossed a line.

But the reality was that despite his efforts to maintain this relationship with Lin Zhexia, they couldn’t continue walking together as they had in childhood.

Between him and Lin Zhexia, it turned out they could at any time embark on different life paths.

It turned out that even the closest relationships.

If the gears of fate moved just one step forward, they would immediately undergo unpredictable and uncontrollable changes.

He didn’t want to experience such a change again.

He wanted to have the position and qualification to continue standing by her side when fate unexpectedly changed again.

“So…” Chi Yao didn’t say much more to He Yang. After hanging up, he lowered his eyes and murmured to himself, “It’s not a big deal if I pursue her, right?”