He Cheng was Hakka; the people around her spoke Hakka and Mandarin, and rarely watched Hong Kong films. Cantonese was even more niche to her than English, and it wasn't until she came to HKU that she was exposed to it. She'd heard teachers and classmates call her name in Cantonese, so she knew how her name sounded in the dialect.
But hearing Zong Xubai call her name in Cantonese was a completely different feeling.
Affected and drawling, casual and careless, teasing and playful…
Besides, even a fool could tell he'd tacked on the two letters "bb" after her name.
Under what circumstances would a man call a woman "bb"?
Even Ye Yanzhi, who had been so clingy and affectionate during their relationship, had never called her "baby" or "bb"—he always called her "Chengcheng."
Even if Hong Kong's language was inflated, it wasn't like this.
He Cheng stopped pressing Zong Xubai for an answer. She pulled out her phone and opened the browser; the device lagged for a full minute before the page loaded.
She quickly typed into the search bar: pai tuo.
Before her fingertip even left the screen, the predictive suggestions popped up instantly below—dating.
The encyclopedia entry showed: "拍拖 (paak to) is a Cantonese dialect term, meaning to date or be in a romantic relationship."
Staring at those words, her mind went blank at first. She felt embarrassed, her face flushed with shame, and thinking of what she'd just said, she wanted to crawl under the car.
Then came irritation and speechlessness, as she realized she'd just been teased and toyed with by Zong Xubai.
That "He Cheng " suddenly felt extremely frivolous and flippant.
And piecing together the details of their time together—his spring-laden eyes, his unserious arguments—
He Cheng suddenly realized that Zong Xubai was not at all the refined gentleman he appeared to be on the surface. At least not in front of her. Perhaps "a mix of good and evil" was the most fitting description for him.
His features were extraordinarily handsome, and the elegant, noble demeanor he displayed in daily interactions might just be a facade born of good upbringing. If you truly dug deeper, you'd touch the layer of mischief in his nature.
As for how mischievous, and in what form—that depended entirely on who was on the receiving end.
With her, for instance, the moment those peach-blossom eyes fell on her softly, or the corner of his lips curved into that half-smile, the rakish, roguish energy would spill out without any pretense.
He said he'd never been in a relationship, had no girlfriend.
But from that effortlessly smooth "He Cheng," she couldn't help but speculate that just because he'd never been in a real relationship didn't mean he didn't have casual companions—the kind that involved the body, not the heart.
She'd heard He Shuxia mention before that wealthy men in Hong Kong were mostly like this—no steady girlfriend.
They were more accustomed to fleeting encounters or playing along for the show, indulging in a few nights of transient romance. If you wanted a nicer word for it, they were "companions"—one after another, swapped out frequently. The so-called "monthly disposable" type was already considered infrequent turnover in their circles.
Liang Jiahao was a living example.
He Cheng had reasonable suspicions that Zong Xubai might have several companions too—that would explain why "bb" rolled off his tongue so naturally.
He didn't date anyone, yet because she'd mentioned her boyfriend in front of him several times, he took it as provocation.
His punishment was to tease her.
She sat up straight, frowning with utmost seriousness.
Whether Zong Xubai dated or had companions on the side was his private life, none of her business.
But teasing her, toying with her—that wasn't right, especially when he knew full well she had a boyfriend.
It was a bit mean.
She had every right to be angry.
Zong Xubai watched her sit ramrod straight, looking prim and proper. When she was angry, she was like a bristling plush toy, sitting motionless in the corner processing her emotions.
Fluffy. Cute.
He wanted to reach out and poke her.
But poking her would probably make her angrier.
He smiled gently. "Angry?"
When it came to social graces, He Cheng's experience was shallow, but her grandmother had taught her from a young age not to throw tantrums—that out in the world, no one was obligated to indulge or soothe you.
Having the right to be angry didn't mean she could vent it.
Besides, the man before her was her sponsor. Even if he was in the wrong, she still had to remain polite on the surface.
It wasn't cowardice or timidity—it was simply that the weight of his sponsorship overshadowed her surging emotions.
He Cheng could only blame her own lack of knowledge and experience. A fall into a pit, a gain in your wit—she'd take this lesson to heart and never make the same mistake again.
She lowered her lashes, eyes downcast. "I spoke out of turn just now."
"I won't casually use words I don't understand in the future."
"I hope you won't take it to heart."
She was clearly angry, yet she took all the blame upon herself, respecting him to such a degree. Zong Xubai suddenly felt it was pointless. His smile faded, and he withdrew his gaze, staring coldly at some point ahead.
The streets were bustling with traffic, but the car windows sealed off the outside noise, not a hint of it disturbing the silence within.
The two sat in mutual silence, neither speaking. Zong Xubai tapped his knee lightly with his index finger, his peripheral vision catching her upright, serious posture. To fix her bad habit of being so deferential toward him, he'd have to start by changing how she addressed him. He glanced at her again, a faint, wicked smile curling at the corner of his lips.
"You can pretend nothing happened if you want."
"But I never say useless things."
"Of course, that includes—" He looked at her deeply, then spoke again in low, lingering Cantonese: "He Cheng."
Those last four words sent alarm bells ringing in He Cheng's head, and she raised a pair of wide, round eyes.
This remark made him seem sparing with his words, while she came across as someone who went back on her word.
He Cheng's fingers left marks on the genuine leather seat as her heart hung high in suspense. She couldn't help but ask, puzzled, "Mr. Zong, why are you so insistent on adding repeated letters after my name…"
She paused for several seconds, her dark eyes clear and resolute yet confused, "Is this your way of teasing me?"
The young girl's bright, clear eyes were trying hard to feign composure and calm.
After all, she was still young—she couldn't hide her emotions, and they were written all over her face.
Zong Xubai had no doubt that if he kept teasing her, or outright tore through the pretense, she would have a mental breakdown, and his image in her mind would crumble and need rebuilding.
Her calling his "bb" a form of teasing annoyed him.
Her blatant resistance made him displeased, as if those two letters were something disgusting.
He pushed up his glasses frame, and despite the irritation in his heart, he still wore a faint, elusive smile: "How do you define 'teasing'?"
"In Hong Kong, it's customary to call children 'bb.' Since you're eight years younger than me and always address me with 'you' (in the respectful form), it's only reasonable for me to call you He Cheng."
He Cheng was taken aback. So that was it—his "bb" meant calling her a child.
It wasn't the ambiguous intimacy between a man and a woman, not what she had guessed. Her tense shoulders relaxed.
She seemed to have misunderstood him again, thinking he was treating her as a companion to flirt with.
But adding those two letters "bb" after her name was still highly inappropriate and felt awkward.
"That won't do either." He Cheng refused firmly: "I'm not a child. I'm already 19."
"What would it take for you to stop calling me…" She suddenly went mute, unable to utter the two letters "bb" as effortlessly as he did without a hint of embarrassment: "Just call me He Cheng."
Zong Xubai's gaze shimmered as he looked at her, each word dropping out slowly, soft yet forceful, "From now on, no more 'you' (respectful form), no more 'Mr. Zong.'"
"Every time you say 'you' or 'Mr. Zong,' I'll reciprocate in kind."
That's not how "reciprocate" works!
He Cheng frowned.
She didn't understand why Zong Xubai disliked her using "you" and "Mr. Zong" to address him—perhaps he found it aging or distant.
But using the tactic of calling her "bb" to force her to change her address was also domineering.
Through his mouth, the two letters "bb" became something alluring and intimate.
She didn't like it.
"Then what should I call you…" He Cheng was used to addressing him with the respectful "you," and it slipped out instinctively. Catching his scrutinizing gaze, she immediately stopped and corrected herself, "What should I call you?"
Zong Xubai's gaze locked onto her, deep and unfathomable: "Is my name too hot to say?"
He Cheng was speechless. The respectful "you" could gradually change, but how could she dare to call him by his name directly? Wouldn't that shorten her life?
It would make her seem so rude and disrespectful.
Zong Xubai, Xubai—
Neither felt right.
This was killing her.
She suddenly stammered, staring blankly at Zong Xubai.
He noticed her hesitant expression, a barely perceptible curl at the corner of his lips. He withdrew his gaze, pulled out his phone, and slid his long fingers across the screen.
At an angle He Cheng couldn't see, his fingertips swiped back and forth between two photos on the screen. The more he compared, the grayer his mood became.
Both were of her eating ice cream. In Ye Yanzhi's shot, her eyes sparkled with vitality, the two soft eye bags beneath them curved like crescent moons, and the smile at her lips was utterly natural.
In the one he had taken, she wore a standard shy smile, lips pressed together—pretty, but lacking that vivid, lively quality.
He felt displeased.
He turned off the screen and placed the phone face-down on the leather seat, picking up the notebook set aside.
The car was so quiet that even the slightest sound seemed amplified tenfold. He Cheng could tell from the sound of Zong Xubai setting down his phone that he was in a bad mood.
She assumed it was work-related troubles bothering him. There was nothing she could do to help, so she could only minimize her presence.
The car stopped downstairs at Taikoo Tang. He Cheng politely thanked Uncle Bing and Zong Xubai and said goodbye. To avoid saying "Mr. Zong," she omitted the title entirely and simply said, "Thank you, goodbye."
She dashed off faster than a rabbit.
Uncle Bing couldn't help but chuckle. He glanced at the rearview mirror—Zong Xubai was staring at his laptop screen, not even lifting his head.
He teased in Cantonese: "Miss He Cheng seems to plan on omitting the subject from now on."
Only then did Zong Xubai slowly look up. Outside the window, that white figure was struggling up the slope, disappearing completely as she entered Taikoo Tang.
He leisurely wiped his glasses with a cloth, "I'm only eight years older than her, yet she treats me like an eighty-year-old grandfather."
Uncle Bing could tell Zong Xubai was in a bad mood: "After all, you're funding her education—your kindness weighs like a mountain."
He continued: "Since you want to hear her say your name, you let her off too easily just now. If you really pushed her, she'd say 'you' three times within ten words. The young lady is just polite."
Zong Xubai lowered his head with a cold laugh: "And if I didn't let her off, what then?"
"I can't very well make her cry just for my own satisfaction."
Uncle Bing understood what Zong Xubai meant. Calling He Cheng "bb" would indeed satisfy him, but He Cheng herself wasn't happy about it, and if he said it a few more times, she'd probably cry.
"Maybe she hasn't gotten used to it yet, or perhaps it's a moral hurdle for her."
Uncle Bing looked at the rearview mirror as Zong Xubai put his glasses back on and turned his gaze to the notebook.
In a casual tone, as if speaking to no one in particular, Zong Xubai said, "After all, she still has a boyfriend back on the mainland."
"This is a reminder to me."
Zong Xubai lifted his eyelids and glanced at the rearview mirror, abruptly meeting Uncle Bing's gaze. His dark eyes were cold and detached, and the words that came out of his mouth carried no warmth: "So I'm knowingly being the third party?"
Uncle Bing froze for a moment, thinking to himself that his young master actually knew the girl had a boyfriend and still didn't keep his distance?
Normally he was quick with words, but now his tongue seemed tied as he wondered whether his master was in a bad mood.
"You haven't even made your move yet, have you? You're just getting along as normal friends—how is that knowingly being the third party?"
"Besides, Miss He Cheng doesn't think of you as a third party either…"
Zong Xubai furrowed his brow, leaning back against the seat as he sank into thought.
Back in the dormitory, He Cheng had completely calmed down.
Thinking about how she and Zong Xubai would have little interaction in the future and wouldn't see each other often, she decided not to make a big deal out of the whole form-of-address incident.
And when Ye Yanzhi's video call came in at around 9 PM, she cast it entirely out of her mind.
Ye Yanzhi had just come out of the elementary school student's home, complaining to her about how disobedient the kid was—hiding in the bathroom for half an hour to skip class.
Helpless and annoyed.
He Cheng rarely saw him angry or frowning. Even with the dim streetlights on the other end of the video, his troubled expression was clearly visible. It seemed the elementary schooler was truly mischievous.
"Orange, give me a kiss. Kiss me and I won't be upset anymore."
How was she supposed to do that? It felt awkward kissing through a screen.
He Cheng's ears turned red. Fortunately, she was in the dorm, and even more fortunately, Lu Qi had gone to take a shower, or she would have wanted to crawl into a hole in the ground.
"How about I treat you to some starch sausages? Didn't you say they were tasty? You'll feel better after eating."
"If you kiss me, I can go three days without eating."
"That won't do." He Cheng couldn't help but laugh. "I can't let you starve for three days."
As they were talking, someone behind him called out, "Brother Yanzhi!"
Ye Yanzhi turned around, and a figure jogging over happened to enter the frame—a lively young girl with a high ponytail, speaking in a soft, cheerful tone.
From the content of their conversation, He Cheng guessed this was the elementary schooler's older sister, a senior in high school.
The girl was heading to a friend's place, so they went to catch the bus together.
She was extremely outgoing and cheerful. When she noticed Ye Yanzhi was on a video call, she immediately waved at He Cheng on the screen: "Good evening, big sister!"
He Cheng nodded and returned the greeting.
The girl asked nosily if she was Brother Yanzhi's girlfriend, and after getting an affirmative answer, complimented her on being pretty.
With an extra person around, He Cheng felt too embarrassed to continue chatting, so she hung up the video.
Thinking back to how the girl called out "Brother Yanzhi" in that sweet, soft voice, it seemed she was naturally gifted at expressing affection.
Meanwhile, He Cheng was stiff and dull—she couldn't even bring herself to kiss through a screen. What was she so shy about?
A friend request suddenly appeared on WeChat, with the note: "Hi Sister Orange, I'm Zhang Jingwen, the one who greeted you earlier."
Twenty minutes later, Ye Yanzhi called on video again, complaining that she was heartless for hanging up so abruptly.
He Cheng stayed silent for several seconds. Ye Yanzhi asked in confusion what was wrong—was she jealous? She was just a kid, a minor, don't overthink it.
He Cheng blinked, snapping back to reality at his anxious explanation. She clutched the hem of her clothes and said softly, "Wait until you come to Hong Kong."
"What?"
"Come to Hong Kong, and I'll kiss you."
After saying that, He Cheng immediately pressed the end button. Her skin was burning hot. Thinking about what she'd just said, she couldn't help but cover her face. She couldn't believe those words had come out of her mouth.
Ye Yanzhi called persistently, but she ruthlessly rejected every one.
He could only send a stern message on WeChat: 【Orange, you'd better not go back on your word!】
Outwardly, He Cheng said she didn't want Ye Yanzhi to spend money coming to Hong Kong, but inwardly, she was full of anticipation for his upcoming visit.
In truth, she wasn't someone who desperately needed companionship or feared loneliness. Her independent nature had been forged by life since childhood.
The years she spent studying away from home in middle and high school had further honed her ability to be alone into a thin, hard callus.
Ye Yanzhi often said he couldn't feel that He Cheng needed him, because she was already used to handling everything on her own.
She also didn't know how to act cute, didn't understand coquetry, and seemed not to know how to love.
In this relationship, Ye Yanzhi was like a sponge, with water constantly seeping out every day, while she was like a piece of wood—no matter how hard she tried, there was no moisture, and she couldn't even absorb any.
Occasionally, she wanted to squeeze out a little more.
For instance, at certain times when she was alone in a foreign place with no one to rely on, seeing couples walking hand in hand on campus, she would feel a bit envious and wish Ye Yanzhi were by her side.
Luckily, in a few days, she too could hold her boyfriend's hand.
She counted the days until the next weekend.
That week, Hong Kong experienced a continuous heatwave. The air was stuffy and humid, like a thick flannel cloth soaked with water that couldn't dry, pressing heavily against the skin.
On Saturday, He Cheng woke up very early. Ye Yanzhi's high-speed rail departed at 8 AM that morning and would arrive in Hong Kong at 9.
Lu Qi knew that He Cheng was meeting her boyfriend for a date today, so she generously let her use her cosmetics. Seeing that He Cheng didn't know how to apply them, she even helped.
However, she was only a novice herself. After fussing over He Cheng's face for over half an hour, her brow furrowed deeper and deeper. She said somewhat apologetically, "How about we take the makeup off? I think you look prettier without it…"
He Cheng picked up the mirror and examined herself from side to side, then burst out laughing, saying Ye Yanzhi would definitely tease her about it.
Lu Qi whimpered an apology and dared not touch her face again, letting He Cheng handle it herself.
She went to the communal kitchen and boiled two eggs for breakfast, one for each of them, so He Cheng could head to the West Kowloon MTR station to pick up Ye Yanzhi after eating.
He Cheng hesitated over whether to wipe off her makeup, but a ringing phone stopped her.
Though there was no saved contact name, the Hong Kong area code and the familiar string of 6s at the end of the number told her it was Zong Xubai.
They hadn't seen or contacted each other since having lunch together on Sunday. He Cheng had been so busy studying this week that she'd completely forgotten about Zong Xubai's existence, and had no idea why he was calling her so early in the morning.
It felt like their last conversation was ages ago.
She picked up the phone and reflexively addressed him politely as Mr. Zong.
There was silence on the other end for a moment, and He Cheng mistakenly thought Zong Xubai had dialed the wrong number or was busy.
After a brief pause, he chuckled into the phone—a lazy, airy sound. His low, breathy voice traveled through the receiver as if hooked, winding around her in silken threads.
"It's me, He Cheng."
He Cheng froze, instantly jolted awake, as if snared in the net of his voice.
It had been so long since they'd last been in contact that she'd forgotten about their absurd, ridiculous agreement—
If she said "Mr. Zong" or "you" in the formal sense, he would reply with "He Cheng."
A slight tingle ran down He Cheng's spine. She frowned and didn't respond. Zong Xubai didn't seem to expect a reply either. "Have you had breakfast?"
He Cheng still hadn't snapped out of that "He Cheng," but a taut string in her mind told her to say as little as possible, because she couldn't figure out what he wanted.
"I… I've eaten."
Given their past experience, she was a little worried Zong Xubai would have Uncle Bing deliver breakfast to her, so she lied about having eaten.
"What did you eat?"
His tone sounded skeptical.
He Cheng looked at the egg in her hand. "An egg."
"That's too little. Eat something more."
"Come down and have breakfast with me."
Three consecutive sentences, not giving her a chance to speak—brief but brooking no argument.
He Cheng furrowed her brows. Reading between the lines of his words, she glanced out the window, then hurried over and leaned out to look.
Beneath the camphor tree stood a solitary white figure. He had his back to the dormitory building, one hand in his pocket, gazing up at the old, lush camphor tree.
The gentle morning sunlight filtered through the layered camphor leaves, casting scattered, dancing flecks of gold on his shoulders and the tips of his hair.
Mr. Zong had actually come all the way to HKU? And was inviting her to breakfast?
He Cheng rushed downstairs. Zong Xubai stood with his back to her, dressed in white athletic wear—a loose white sun-protection jacket and knee-length shorts, revealing a stretch of lean, sharply defined calves.
An extremely clean, sporty look.
Like he'd just stepped out of the gym.
Judging by his back alone, he could easily pass for a college student.
He Cheng now had to run every sentence through her mind before speaking, unsure how to signal that she'd arrived without saying "you" or "Mr. Zong."
Zong Xubai seemed to hear her approach. He turned to look at her, and upon seeing her multicolored face, raised an eyebrow and teased, "I was wondering why you weren't saying anything—turns out you wanted to test my eyesight?"
He Cheng's face grew warm. She touched her botched makeup and thought, no, that's not it—it's because I'm afraid of accidentally saying "you" or "Mr. Zong."
He didn't mind her silence. Scanning their surroundings, his expression softened. "I've long heard the scenery from HKU to Victoria Peak is beautiful on foot. Having just run down, I can confirm it lives up to its reputation."
He Cheng's doe eyes widened slightly. "You ran from the mountain all the way to campus?"
No wonder he was in athletic leisure wear.
She knew there was a mountain trail from the school leading up to Victoria Peak, and students and tourists would sometimes hike up to watch the sunset before taking the tram down or walking back the same way. She never expected Zong Xubai to have jogged all the way from his villa to HKU.
"I usually run in the mountains in the morning, but this was my first time on this route. I got hungry after running down, and I remembered it's Saturday, so you'd probably be free for breakfast."
That explained why he'd called her.
He asked what she wanted to eat.
HKU had several canteens, none of them close by, except for the rice noodle shop right below the dormitory.
She wanted to finish breakfast with him quickly so she could go pick up Ye Yanzhi, but she also worried he wouldn't want rice noodles for breakfast this early.
She'd originally planned to leave around 8:10 to catch the MTR. It was already 8:00 now, and no matter what they ate, it would take at least half an hour—she definitely wouldn't make it out at her original time. Since that was the case, she might as well get Zong Xubai settled first.
The two went for a Western-style breakfast.
He Cheng had heard He Shuxia rank the school's Western breakfast options before, so she took him to the one He Shuxia had praised as the best.
Zong Xubai still had no Octopus card and no cash, so He Cheng paid. Two meals came to over 70 HKD. She felt a small pang of heartache but also genuine happiness, because she'd treated her sponsor again—no matter the cost, it felt worth it.
She'd have to tighten her belt even more from now on. The on-campus part-time job still hadn't materialized, but at least she had a little of her entrance scholarship left.
The canteen wasn't crowded on a Saturday morning. After finding a seat, He Cheng looked down at her phone to check where Ye Yanzhi had gotten to.
When she looked up again, the lavish spread of food before her left her at a loss.
Her usual breakfast consisted of eggs or bread, so this was the first time she had eaten so extravagantly—one main dish with four side dishes. After this meal, she wouldn't even need lunch.
No wonder it cost over thirty dollars.
She let Zong Xubai eat first while she got up and walked to the counter.
The moment she left, the phone on the table vibrated. Zong Xubai was sitting across from her, and from his angle, he could see a message pop up on the screen—recognizing the upside-down characters as Ye Yanzhi's name.
Zong Xubai glanced at the back of her figure hurrying toward the counter. She'd been checking her phone on and off the whole way here—so she'd been texting her boyfriend all along.
She was with him, yet her mind was elsewhere.
He furrowed his brows in irritation.
What are they chatting about?
He stared at the screen, a malicious impulse creeping up in him. After a few seconds, his long arm, beyond his control, reached over and grabbed the phone.
The message appeared right before his eyes.
Ye Yanzhi: [On the high-speed rail, still need to transfer in Shenzhen. I miss you so much, miss you so much, I want to hug you so badly.]
Zong Xubai's lips twitched. This man really had a way with sweet talk—every single time, it was "miss you, miss you," so tacky.
He placed the phone back where it was.
From the message, he could tell Ye Yanzhi was coming to Hong Kong today. So the blue-pink eyeshadow on her eyelids, the clumped lashes, the thick dark brows, the blob of blush—all of it was to please her boyfriend.
He'd had a decent appetite before, but now the food tasted like wax.
He Cheng happened to come back with a plastic bag and packed the croissant inside. She couldn't finish that much, so she could take it back for Lu Qi.
Zong Xubai didn't ask about what she was doing. He watched her lower her head to reply to a WeChat message, the corners of her lips curving up, and even her clumped lashes suddenly looked pretty.
He completely lost his appetite.
Resting his elbows on the table, fingers loosely interlaced, he told her about the two wild boars he'd encountered while running down the mountain earlier, and even pulled out his phone to show her the photos.
He Cheng set down her own phone and took his. Two black wild boars appeared on the screen, and her eyes lit up instantly. She praised how sturdy they looked—clearly well-exercised.
Seeing her interest, Zong Xubai asked about her usual exercise routine, suggesting they could go running together sometime, and watch the sunset from the hilltop.
It sounded like a perfectly normal remark, but He Cheng paused. She quietly handed the phone back, lashes lowered, not daring to meet Zong Xubai's gaze.
Yet through her peripheral vision, she could clearly sense Zong Xubai across from her, staring fixedly at her face.
She was afraid that if she looked up, she'd meet a pair of amorous, peach-blossom eyes.
Watching the sunset from the hilltop.
Thinking about it carefully, that phrase was so ambiguous, so intimate.
Ye Yanzhi had confessed to her while watching the sunset on a hilltop—the warm mountain breeze rustling the branches, the pale yellow sunset giving way to pink-and-blue twilight, the Big Dipper faintly emerging at the horizon alongside a slender crescent moon.
Even now, recalling that scene still felt beautiful.
Zong Xubai set his phone on the table, watching her eat with her head down, not responding for a long while. "Why aren't you saying anything?"
He Cheng quickly stuffed steak into her mouth, not answering his question. "I have something urgent to do later. I want to finish up quickly."
Combined with what Ye Yanzhi had said in the WeChat message about transferring in Shenzhen, there was no need to guess—she was going to pick up her boyfriend.
Was she a three-year-old? Needing someone to pick her up.
He let out a cold laugh.
"What urgent matter?"
The temperature of his voice dropped as well.
Having learned from past experience, He Cheng certainly wasn't going to say she was picking up her boyfriend, lest she provoke him. "A friend is visiting Hong Kong. I'm going to West Kowloon to pick him up."
"I'll drive you."
"No need." He Cheng declined. "The MTR will get me there quickly."
The cafeteria wasn't exactly quiet—the clatter of bowls, chopsticks, and cutlery came and went. Even in daylight, the fluorescent lights stayed on, casting cold white light from above, making everyone's expressions stark and lifeless.
Zong Xubai's pale face looked even more androgynously delicate under the light. The corner of his lips curved into a faint smile, the amusement in his eyes barely there, mechanical and polite.
"Consider it payment for you treating me to breakfast."