They hadn’t been wandering downstairs for very long before the two of them headed up.

The night had picked up a little more wind, turning slightly cooler. When the two of them arrived home, the takeout had beaten them there — Wei Xi and the others were already gathered around the dining table, eating with great relish.

Fang Zhuo followed Yan Lie through the door, and the moment they came face to face with the group, the room fell instantly silent, making the atmosphere slightly awkward.

Zhao Jiayou almost thought the beer he’d had that evening had gone to his head and he was dreaming of Yan Lie. Then he realized it was real — and felt a small sting of sourness.

Yan Lie, who was normally not known for his tact, inexplicably produced a fleeting moment of discretion, glancing at Fang Zhuo and saying vaguely: “Those in the know will understand.”

Zhao Jiayou and the others, who did not entirely know: “…”

What — did they have to figure out for themselves what this secondhand affection tasted like?

Yan Lie looked at the cluttered table full of takeout containers and felt it was a bit of a shoddy showing. He said, “I’ll treat you all to a proper meal next time.”

Zhao Jiayou had never been particularly serious with him and asked: “When?”

Yan Lie’s mind was spinning in a peculiarly distracted orbit. Without thinking he said: “When we get engaged.”

Zhao Jiayou’s eyes went wide, and he blurted: “That soon?”

Fang Zhuo: “?”

Wei Xi snorted and said, “Have you already picked out a plot for the baby’s grave?”

Yan Lie: “…”

Yan Lie thought to himself: it would be fine. He absolutely refused to date someone irresponsible. So whether or not he’d ever eat that meal depended entirely on how long the brotherhood lasted.

The others hadn’t realized they were now barely registering in Yan Lie’s estimation of meaningful friendships. Intimidated by Fang Zhuo’s usual cool demeanor, they didn’t dare tease her and were exchanging uncertain glances.

Wei Xi called out, “Are you two eating late-night snacks?”

Nobody wanted cake that night — everyone worried about gaining weight — so they each took a symbolic sliver. A small piece still remained, and Fang Zhuo ate it.

The cake had a layer of sweet, light cream over a rich, fragrant mango filling. When Fang Zhuo went upstairs to her room and lay down to sleep, she felt as though she were surrounded by the scent of mango.

It was a scent that was both rich and fresh, sweet without a single trace of tartness. It had a powerful presence and had a way of lingering everywhere.

So it was that in Fang Zhuo’s vivid, strange dreams, she nearly couldn’t tell — the faint, unsteady warmth that passed between her lips and teeth, whose breath was it, exactly?

The following morning, while it was still a dim gray, Fang Zhuo was jolted awake by the light streaming through the window.

She sat up in a daze for a moment, picked up her phone to check the time, and found it was only five-thirty in the morning. The screen showed a string of messages Yan Lie had sent her the night before.

“Are you going back tomorrow? Would you want to stay in City C for a few more days? Train tickets are pretty expensive.”

“Are you asleep?”

“Well, that’s good sleep hygiene. Goodnight then.”

“I found a mystery movie online that got pretty good reviews — it’s a little scary though. I don’t want to go with anyone else. Would you be able to come see it with me?”

“Do you eat durian? [Photo] This place is really famous for its durian mille crêpe and taro mille crêpe. If you’re heading back tomorrow, I already bought some for you to snack on during the trip.”

“Goodnight, goodnight. [Love you]”

The last message had been sent sometime after three in the morning.

Fang Zhuo scratched her hair and sent a reply to this night-owl.

Little Sun: I don’t eat cilantro. Never tried durian.

She got up to tidy the bed and fold the blanket. Before she’d even finished, her phone started buzzing again.

Lielie With a Fierce Name: You’re up already? Then I’ll take you out for durian ice cream right now. If you like it, I’ll get you a whole case of fresh ones to bring home. They’re cheaper here and especially sweet. Sealed in a foam box, there won’t be any smell. [La la la]

Lielie With a Fierce Name: Your uncle might like it too.

Fang Zhuo didn’t reply right away. By the time she had smoothed out all the corners of the bedsheet, Yan Lie’s knock had already come at the door.

She went over and opened it, and was surprised to see the young man standing outside, fully dressed. “You didn’t sleep last night?”

“I got some sleep, probably not very deeply.” Yan Lie said, keeping his voice low. “Come on, I’ll take you for a walk along the coast.”

Fang Zhuo thought: coming all this way and not taking a walk around would really be a shame.

The two of them stood far back on the shore, watching the boundless sea stretching to the horizon, waiting as the morning mist gradually dispersed.

The seaside was a little chilly in the early morning. They walked side by side for a while, bought a few things, and then left.

After breakfast, Fang Zhuo headed directly to the high-speed rail station to go back to City A.

Yan Lie accompanied her to buy a ticket, then walked her to the entrance of the waiting area, carrying a box for her, visibly reluctant to let go.

Fang Zhuo gestured for him to hand her bag back. Yan Lie asked, “When can I come see you?”

“Summer break?” Fang Zhuo said, frowning. “I don’t have time to entertain you — I have classes. And it’s the countryside, there’s no air conditioning, only one electric fan, and I’m not giving it up for you.”

She said it as though Yan Lie were making the most outrageous of demands, so much so that Yan Lie could barely keep the smile on his face. He said, “Am I really that pitiable?”

Fang Zhuo took the bag and said, “Don’t push your luck. You should just stay at home. School’s starting soon anyway.”

Yan Lie: “This is the legitimate right of a boyfriend!”

Fang Zhuo: “Who granted you that right?”

The person across from her said with absolute certainty: “Social convention.”

Fang Zhuo was momentarily thrown by that particular logic. She supposed she should be grateful he hadn’t said “the law,” but it still left her without an immediate rebuttal.

“That’s just how it is. You can go ask your uncle — when someone won’t pay any attention to their partner, and won’t even let their partner pay attention to them, what is that called?” Yan Lie said confidently. “That’s called emotional coldness.”

Fang Zhuo thought to herself: she was practically going mad from the heat out in the countryside — and he was calling it emotional coldness.

Yan Lie caught the dismissiveness in her expression and narrowed his eyes: “Are you finding me annoying?”

Fang Zhuo looked up, mustered her energy, and smiled slightly. “Not at all.”

What an unmistakably professional smile!

Yan Lie opened his mouth, then said carefully: “If you really do find me annoying, you have to tell me the truth.”

He added: “Of course, I can’t change. I just want to see you. But I’ll try my best to help you change yourself. We can work together and figure out a way to fix this.”

Fang Zhuo genuinely laughed.

If this were a tug-of-war, Yan Lie would already have grabbed every last bit of rope and dragged it to his side — before the referee had even blown the whistle.

And Fang Zhuo was not used to this kind of cheating speed. She held the rope in her hands and only tugged at it occasionally.

She didn’t know whether this was right or not. Looking at Yan Lie, she said sincerely: “I don’t.”

Fang Zhuo lifted her arms and hugged him briefly, as proof of her affection. When she stepped back, he pulled her firmly back in.

“I need to go,” Fang Zhuo said — she never indulged his pushing of boundaries. “Let go.”

Yan Lie said, disappointed: “Oh.”

After Fang Zhuo boarded the train, Yan Lie sat on the small step by the entrance, watching the time on his phone tick past the departure mark. It was then that he finally figured out what to post to his social media feed.

He searched through his collection of sticker images for a long time, made several rounds of comparisons, then uploaded two pictures and posted.

One was a photo of the cream cake. The other was an animated sticker of a little bear, struck through the heart, floating dreamily backward.

The caption read: “About to faint~”

He had a wide circle of friends. Baffled acquaintances began commenting below: “Happy birthday!”, “Are you in love or something?”, “A tough guy fainting? Maybe not.”, and so on.

Zhao Jiayou was lying in bed scrolling through his phone, accidentally stumbled across it, rolled his eyes as he swiped past, then couldn’t resist scrolling back. He left a comment: Sour.

He refreshed the page. The screen was full of Wei Xi’s exclamation marks.

Wei Xi: Yan Lie you double-standard dog! I asked whether you wanted me to buy you a cake! Do you remember what you said?! You said adults don’t eat cream cake, it’s too sweet and too rich! Don’t buy it!!

Yan Lie replied to Wei Xi: Blocked.

Not long after, Zhao Jiayou posted one of his own.

Zhao Jiayou: Seeking girlfriend. Standards not high — fair-skinned, good-looking, pleasant personality, tall figure, good grades. Willing to spend money on me and buy me gifts. In return, you will receive exquisite love from Youyou.

The comments below were unanimous: “In your dreams!”, “What are you even good for?”, “It’s still daytime and you’ve already lost it?”

Only Yan Lie sent him a flower.

Zhao Jiayou replied to Yan Lie: Get lost.

Because they had set out early, Fang Zhuo arrived back in City A right around lunchtime.

She was carrying a sealed foam box of durian and went first to look for her uncle at the spot where Ye Yuncheng usually set up his stall.

City A was still suffocatingly hot. Fang Zhuo trudged along sweating profusely, searched around the surrounding streets, and then learned from an auntie at the neighboring shop that her uncle had already packed up for the day.

By the time Fang Zhuo made her way back to the rented apartment, the afternoon sun had burned her face red.

Ye Yuncheng heard the commotion and came out from the study, exclaimed in surprise, then quickly went to get a clean towel for her to wipe her face, took the backpack off her shoulders, and told her to go cool down at the faucet.

Cold water ran over her skin, and her whole body and spirit felt refreshed. Fang Zhuo let out a long breath and dried off the water.

Ye Yuncheng asked, “Why are you coming here at this hour? What’s in the box?”

Fang Zhuo said, “It’s durian. Not sure if you’ll like it.”

Xiao Mu chimed in from behind: “It stinks.”

Ye Yuncheng laughed and said, “The owner of the durian pancake shop next door has traded snacks with us before. Xiao Mu doesn’t like it, but I thought it was pretty decent.”

Only then did Fang Zhuo notice that the layout of the apartment had shifted slightly — a few new pieces of furniture had appeared. Xiao Mu had been holding up a phone the whole time, moving the camera back and forth between the two of them, and from the angle it looked like he was filming.

Fang Zhuo asked suspiciously, “What are you two doing?”

Ye Yuncheng laughed and said, “We’re gathering material. Uncle Liu asked me to film a bit of everyday life, or tell a story — he’s been learning video editing lately and can help me with it at the same time.”

He gestured for Xiao Mu to hand him the phone, navigated to the account page, and excitedly showed it to her.

The corner of the screen showed that it was connected to wireless. Fang Zhuo asked, “You have wifi now?”

“We do now. Uncle Liu came by last time and helped us set up a mobile connection — one of the cheaper plans. The speed’s a bit slow, but it works. The password is just my name in Pinyin.”

Ye Yuncheng opened the account’s backend and randomly selected a video to show her.

The camera was a little unsteady. It filmed the entire process of Ye Yuncheng washing and chopping vegetables until all the ingredients were tossed into the pot and the lid was put on. After speed-up, it ran about forty seconds long.

Fang Zhuo thought the trajectory looked promising.

The earliest videos had only double-digit likes, and checking the comments, they were all from relatives in family group chats. The most recent videos had settled steadily above a hundred likes, with the highest one breaking a thousand.

Scanning through briefly, Ye Yuncheng was updating about two to three times a day. Some clips were unedited, but the output was quite consistent. Importantly, his time at the stall had noticeably decreased — the comments section was full of people asking why he wasn’t setting up during the midday to evening hours.

Fang Zhuo was quite pleased.

Ye Yuncheng smiled shyly and said, “The viewership isn’t huge, but things are actually selling faster. People know we keep a clean setup here, and they can even place orders by leaving comments on the videos. Some local users have seen the content and will specifically drive over to buy something.”