Yan Lie was very much against the rules — the things he said without thinking couldn’t be examined too closely, or they would make a person lose their bearings.

Fang Zhuo had said nothing at the time, but she still found herself involuntarily following along with his train of thought, trying to trace back the moment when everything began to change.

Perhaps it was the deliberately offhand concern shown outside the convenience store. Perhaps it was a light suddenly turned on in a city where she had lost her way. Perhaps it was a sky-blue umbrella tilted toward her through a curtain of close-falling rain, or some particular, tender-to-the-point-of-unreality smile.

It had begun in a joke where truth and pretense couldn’t be told apart, and ended in words held back just before they were spoken.

When Fang Zhuo drifted into sleep carrying all these dim, tangled thoughts, her dreams were full of images that seemed washed over by a stream.

Cool, clean, and clear, leaving behind only a fresh, water-scented sensation.

On a morning after rain, before a hillside wall blanketed in small white flowers, Yan Lie smiled with a serious expression and said: “Flowers that try so hard to bloom — how can you just call them wildflowers? They all have their own names.”

Every effort, every small dream too modest to mention — all had their own names.

Even if they were not yet known to anyone, they could still be admired.

The second day after the Spring Festival holiday ended, Xiao Mu returned. With nowhere to stay, Fang Zhuo went back to the countryside for a few days.

She hadn’t paid attention to the chickens for a while, and they had grown into creatures she almost didn’t recognize.

Fang Zhuo rolled up her sleeves, picked them up one by one for inspection, and found that the bald-feathered chicken had not, in fact, inherited the baldness — after growing into a plump, robust rooster, it had blended in seamlessly with the rest of the flock.

The dedicated chicken coop that Ye Yuncheng had said he would make for Baldy had long since passed out of its possession.

Chickens are naturally combative creatures. Baldy, though the most beloved, was not the fiercest fighter, and was certainly incapable of defending its own coop.

Fang Zhuo had a somewhat risky idea. Fortunately, before she could actually put it into action, Liu Qiaohong happened to come by and lent her his phone, suggesting she seek advice from someone outside the situation.

Fang Zhuo casually picked one of the chickens, crouched down, and took a very imposing photo from below, then sent it to Yan Lie.

Yan Lie replied quickly, and with exactly the content she had expected.

Yan Lie: Growing so fast — what a fine Baldy! The chicken’s been raised so well!

Right.

This fellow couldn’t even tell male from female. Truly in character.

Their father-and-son bond could be considered well and truly over.

Fang Zhuo sent the same photo to Ye Yuncheng, but he said with complete certainty: “That’s not Baldy. Baldy’s tail is a deeper color — very easy to recognize. I also tied a piece of rope around its leg; look carefully.”

Following the hint, Fang Zhuo located the fortunate chicken and tied a bright red string around its leg.

After taking some time to clear out the small courtyard, she couldn’t resist following the Taobao image Yan Lie had once shown her and building a new coop for Baldy out of whatever was at hand.

She didn’t quite know why, but all of Yan Lie’s various whims and flights of fancy somehow always ended up being realized by her.

Too bad she had no chance to send Yan Lie a photo of the coop for now.

Fang Zhuo lived in the village and wasn’t particularly close to the neighbors. During the day, when she had nothing to do, she cleaned and tidied; at night she stayed in her room doing schoolwork. Every evening around eight or nine, she would pop into the convenience store across the way before it closed to make a phone call to Ye Yuncheng and check in.

She had grown accustomed to this rhythm, and even though it was monotonous, she didn’t find it dull.

Two days into her stay, a neighbor came to ask her to help fix a computer.

Fang Zhuo had barely touched a computer herself, let alone repaired one. She was a little apprehensive about the request. But the two elderly people were illiterate, and their knowledge of computers was limited to the function of “power on” and “power off.” They asked and asked again, begging the educated young woman to take a look. Unable to refuse, Fang Zhuo went over.

Fortunately, the problem wasn’t too serious. Fang Zhuo borrowed their phone to search online, followed a tutorial, and spent more than an hour tinkering before she successfully got the computer set up for them.

Watching the programs run normally again, Fang Zhuo let out a long breath of relief.

She had no enthusiasm for any kind of electronic device.

The elderly woman peeled an apple for her and pressed it into her hands. She had been about to make lunch for her as well, but Fang Zhuo politely declined.

As they walked her to the door, both old people fell into step beside her, speaking in a mix of dialect and Mandarin: “Such a learned young lady — thank you so much for today. Last time we had someone fix the computer, it cost over two hundred yuan, and then a few days later it broke again. So frustrating — how would we know how to deal with something like this? We said from the start not to buy one, but they insisted….”

Fang Zhuo asked them to go back inside. As she passed through the open courtyard between the houses, she noticed a wooden frame with several bamboo-woven crafts inserted into it. There were dragonflies, crickets, all manner of small insects. The craftsmanship was exquisite — they looked almost alive.

She thought Yan Lie would definitely love these childlike things. Because that was exactly the sort of person he was.

Remarkably fussy, and fond of acting coy.

The elderly woman noticed where her gaze had gone and reached up to take one down and give it to her. “Do you like this? Take it with you if you do — the old man’s hands get restless; he just weaves them for fun.”

Fang Zhuo accepted it, turned it over for a look, then lifted her head and smiled: “Thank you.”

She could already imagine what Yan Lie would say. He would definitely be overjoyed and exclaim: “Wow, it looks great! Are you really giving it to me? Fang Zhuo, you’re too good to me!”

So this would be Yan Lie’s New Year’s gift.

After the New Year, Ye Yuncheng started selling braised food, with his upgraded little cart.

The new line of business had a higher profit margin, but it was also considerably more labor-intensive, and preparing the ingredients required far more time.

Ye Yuncheng never shared bad news with Fang Zhuo — he only told her the good things. For example, that today’s revenue had gone up again, or that a long-time customer had placed a pre-order of over two hundred yuan’s worth of braised food for a company gathering. Their enterprise was developing steadily.

The winter holiday ended very quickly. Senior year students had few leisurely breaks.

After working through a whole schoolbag’s worth of practice papers, Fang Zhuo found that the time to return to school had nearly arrived. Before going back, she stopped by the rental apartment first.

She arrived in City A in the evening, around seven or eight, and knocked on the door — no one answered from inside. She sat and waited outside for a while, and still no one returned.

Yet that morning she had called Ye Yuncheng, around six-thirty, and they had already set up their stall by then.

Fang Zhuo did the calculation in her head: if she waited for Ye Yuncheng to come home, he would still have to prepare the braised food, which meant he’d have very little time to rest.

Ye Yuncheng’s leg occasionally flared up with intense pain — especially on rainy days — and he absolutely could not work for long stretches at a time. Fang Zhuo couldn’t help but worry. But since it was too late to wait, she left a note for them and went back to school first.

Early the next morning, Fang Zhuo shouldered her bag and went to the spot where they normally set up their stall. Seeing Ye Yuncheng safe and sound, she finally felt at ease.

She stood at the side of the stall and gave a few words of warning, letting him know she was aware they had been quietly working overtime the night before, and that they shouldn’t do it again in the future.

Ye Yuncheng was subjected to her little lecture and could only laugh through his helplessness: “How are you more like the parent here? I’m still your elder, you know.”

Fang Zhuo: “Because you two never behave.”

Xiao Mu protested urgently from the side: “I didn’t misbehave.”

Fang Zhuo laughed and said: “Right, Xiao Mu is the most well-behaved.”

After eating lunch, she returned to school to find that more than half of the students had already arrived.

Not even half a month had passed, but Wei Xi had become noticeably rounder. Fang Zhuo walked into the classroom, ran into her head-on, paused for a second, and before she could say a word, the other girl cut her off.

Wei Xi said with great agitation: “Don’t say it! I know I’ve gained weight! But you’re not allowed to say it!”

Fang Zhuo: “……I just wanted to say you look much healthier.”

Wei Xi’s expression softened a little, but she still said with a tinge of sorrow: “Maybe. If you gained eight or nine catties, you’d have the same rosy complexion as me.”

…… So the holiday had really been a dedicated effort at nourishing the body.

Fang Zhuo stepped to the side, made her way around, and swept her gaze across the classroom, quickly spotting Yan Lie’s figure.

Yan Lie was sitting near the window, helping Shen Musi flip through his homework.

The cake-loving classmate was wearing a mask, and his voice sounded muffled and unnatural when he spoke.

His backpack was still on his back — he had probably only just arrived. He looked up at Yan Lie, completely shameless, and said: “Lielie, just copy the homework out for me.”

Yan Lie was provoked into laughing. He rolled up a test paper and smacked it against his head: “They say some people push their luck — you’re exactly that kind of person. Not satisfied with copying anymore — now you want it written out for you?”

“I’m sick!” Shen Musi said very loudly, apparently convinced this was sufficient justification. “I can show you my hospital records!”

Yan Lie: “You could show me your family genealogy and it wouldn’t make a difference. You’d better go explain it to the head teacher — see if she accepts it.”

Shen Musi clutched his chest in anguish.

Yan Lie gave him a sidelong glance. “Do you still want it copied or not?”

Shen Musi said weakly: “I do.”

Fang Zhuo sat down next to her deskmate and heard him mutter under his breath: “Hopeless.”

She straightened up, ready to show him her New Year’s gift.

She put down her bag, pulled open the zipper, and took out the woven bamboo craft.

Ideally, it should have been a dragonfly with outstretched wings. But it must have been accidentally sat on during the journey, because the gift had suffered a small mishap — a length of cord had come loose, transforming it into something misshapen and unidentifiable.

Fang Zhuo held it in her hands and stared at it in contemplation, then, since she had already brought it, frowned and held it out to Yan Lie anyway.

Yan Lie looked entirely unsurprised, casually stuck it into the potted plant on the windowsill, and said with completely false enthusiasm: “Wow, how creative — even the potted plant gets its own little ornament now? Is this an exploding scarecrow you wove yourself?”

Fang Zhuo: “……”

He told that lie with such heartfelt conviction.

…… So was this how he had been deceiving her all along?

Noticing that her expression wasn’t quite right, Yan Lie took the object back and gave it a genuine examination. He then hesitated and said: “You didn’t make this to look like me, did you?”

He stared at it a little longer, then talked himself into it: “Actually, now that I think about it, there is a bit of a resemblance.”

Fang Zhuo: “……” This man had absolutely no principles.