The square little sugar-water shop had several wooden tables set out. Dali and Li Xun came back carrying the stinky tofu they had just bought, placed it grandly on the table, and warmly invited the others to try it together.
Zhou Zongbai was so overwhelmed by the smell that he kept gulping water and instinctively leaned his body backward. Song Shiyue laughed and waved her hand to decline.
“I can’t handle spicy food.”
“No problem, Moon.” As if she had come prepared, Dali pulled out a portion of stinky tofu with no chili added from behind her and insisted with great enthusiasm that Song Shiyue give it a taste.
“Please, just try it. It really does smell bad but tastes amazing. One bite and it’ll open the doors to a whole new world for you!” Her face was full of sincere pleading, her words earnest. Song Shiyue found it hard to refuse such genuine enthusiasm. Her resolve wavered, and she couldn’t help glancing at the chili-free portion being offered to her.
It was square-shaped, pitch-black, and came in chunky, layered pieces packed inside a paper box.
The air was filled with an extremely distinctive smell — somewhere between foul and fragrant, sharp enough to wake up the senses.
She took a deep breath, mentally braced herself as though heading to an execution, and finally gave in.
“Alright then.”
She snapped apart her disposable chopsticks, cautiously picked up a piece, and brought it to her mouth.
Zhou Zongbai’s eyes followed her every move. He solemnly lifted the cup of water beside him and pulled out a paper napkin, ready at any moment.
The taste upon entering her mouth… how to describe it? Very peculiar.
Song Shiyue chewed a few times. A strange flavor rushed straight to her brain. It wasn’t exactly disgusting, but it also wasn’t something the average person could accept right away.
Her palate had always been light; she rarely ate anything this strong-flavored. For a moment she couldn’t help wrinkling her nose, her expression full of pain.
Zhou Zongbai quickly handed her the water cup with one hand and offered a paper napkin with the other.
She forced herself to swallow what was in her mouth, grabbed the cup, and gulped down several mouthfuls of water. Tears were almost squeezed out of her eyes.
“Not good?” Moon Bao!” Dali had been watching her reaction the whole time and couldn’t hide her disappointment.
“I can’t really taste it.” Song Shiyue wiped her mouth with the napkin and answered honestly, “The flavor is too intense. I didn’t dare savor it slowly — I just swallowed it straight down.”
“Pfft.” Li Xun burst out laughing beside them. Dali sighed dramatically, her heartache plain to see. Zhou Zongbai turned to look at her. “You really couldn’t taste anything?”
“Mm.” Song Shiyue nodded while tidying herself up. The corners of her eyes were still red. When he saw that, he couldn’t help smiling, snapped open a fresh pair of chopsticks from beside him.
“Then let me give it a try too.”
He ate a piece. Three pairs of eyes waited intently for his reaction — especially Song Shiyue, whose eyes were opened unusually wide as she watched him seriously.
Zhou Zongbai couldn’t help laughing again. After chewing and swallowing, his expression remained calm as he nodded.
“It’s okay.”
“See? I told you!” Dali lit up with joy and immediately pushed the spicy version toward him. “Here, try this one with chili.”
Zhou Zongbai politely declined and lowered his head to drink water.
“But it’s not really my taste either. You two enjoy it slowly.”
While they were talking, the boss brought over the sugar-water desserts. Dali, ever greedy, had ordered several different flavors when placing the order. Now an array of white porcelain bowls filled with various sweet soups sat in the middle of the table. She asked for a few extra spoons so everyone could share.
Among them, Song Shiyue loved the osmanthus wine-fermented rice balls with tiny glutinous rice dumplings the most. She scooped several spoonfuls with the ladle. When Dali enthusiastically recommended the almond black sesame paste, she set down her spoon, picked up a clean one, and tried that instead.
Zhou Zongbai seemed interested in the wine-fermented rice balls she had been enjoying so much earlier. He picked up the ladle resting beside the bowl and took a spoonful. The moment he ate it, Song Shiyue sensed something off. She paused, turned her head, and her gaze fixed on the ladle in Zhou Zongbai’s hand.
“…What’s wrong?” He hesitated, his movement stopping. He let go of the white porcelain ladle and looked over in confusion.
“That ladle… I think it’s the one I used earlier,” Song Shiyue said hesitantly. Visit g.com for the full chapter.
Zhou Zongbai froze for a second, looked down at the ladle in his hand, and after a moment awkwardly set it down. He apologized to her.
“Sorry, I didn’t notice. I thought it hadn’t been used.”
“It’s fine.” Dali had asked for several extra communal spoons and placed them along the edges of the bowls. It was perfectly normal to mix them up.
Song Shiyue understood that, yet an odd feeling lingered in her heart that she couldn’t shake. That ladle had been sitting there, and she hadn’t touched it again.
Zhou Zongbai acted as though he had forgotten. Later on he naturally picked up that same ladle again and used it without any concern. He didn’t seem to mind that she had used it before. Yet after Dali accidentally used her own spoon to scoop some black sesame paste, he never touched that particular bowl of dessert again.
After finishing most of the food on the table, everyone inevitably felt stuffed. Dali leaned back in her chair to digest and casually scrolled on her phone.
“Holy crap!” She saw something and shot upright from her slouch, eyes wide as she swiped across the screen.
“Zhu Xingyan came to the temple fair today?!”
“Ah?” Song Shiyue couldn’t help letting out a surprised sound first. Li Xun immediately leaned over to look at her screen, marveling nonstop.
“That’s wild. A huge celebrity like him actually comes to a temple fair like a normal person? How did we never run into him before?! What a shame!” He slapped his thigh in regret.
Song Shiyue could no longer hold back. She took out her own phone and opened the homepage. Sure enough, news about Zhu Xingyan was already hanging at the tail end of the trending searches, with attention still climbing.
It was probably people who had spotted him on the street today. The few secretly taken photos had obvious angles. In the pictures he wore a black down jacket, a bucket hat, and a mask. Even so, sharp-eyed fans recognized him from their deep familiarity with his appearance.
Even fully bundled up, standing in the crowd he still carried a distinctive, refined aura that made people want to look twice — and then a third time — until they noticed something unusual.
Fan City, Spring Festival, temple fair — amid the festive cheer everywhere, only he was wrapped head to toe in full disguise.
Once those keywords connected, the answer became obvious in fans’ minds.
The photos had been posted twenty minutes earlier. By now, Zhu Xingyan had surely already gone home.
Song Shiyue knew that in her heart, yet she still couldn’t stop herself from opening the chat with that star icon. After hesitating for a long time, she finally sent the message.
「Moon」: 【Did you go to the temple fair today?】
After eating, Dali and the others were still full of energy and wanted to go watch the performances on the stage ahead.
Song Shiyue no longer had the spirit for it and spoke up first to say goodbye.
“I’m not going. I still have homework to finish. I need to head home first.”
“Ah — Moon!” Dali wailed dramatically, clearly reluctant but not insisting on keeping her. Though she loved to have fun, she rarely interfered with Song Shiyue’s studies.
“I’m heading home to review too.” Zhou Zongbai followed right after her in saying goodbye, his smile as usual. Dali obviously hadn’t had enough fun yet. Beside her, Li Xun struck a dramatic pose of self-sacrifice.
“Then this young master will reluctantly keep you company.”
“Thanks a lot, Your Highness. Sorry to trouble you.” Dali retorted in mock sarcasm.
“No trouble at all.”
The four of them split into two groups and left. Song Shiyue didn’t know which direction Zhou Zongbai’s home was in, but the two of them headed to the bus stop together. He walked beside her and naturally used his body to shield her from the crowd pressing in from the side.
Song Shiyue hadn’t noticed these small details before. Looking back now, ever since they met he seemed to have been quietly and thoughtfully taking care of her all along — so naturally and unobtrusively that only now did she suddenly realize it.
She pressed her lips together. A heaviness settled in her chest. After several moments of inner struggle, when Zhou Zongbai proactively offered to call a taxi and send her home, she finally made up her mind.
The street was bustling with people coming and going. Not far away stood the bus stop platform.
Song Shiyue stopped in her tracks, turned to face the boy beside her, lifted her gaze, and spoke with a solemn expression. “Zhou Zongbai.”
“Do you like me?”
The air fell silent for a moment. The boy was slightly stunned. Then, as if realizing something, he tugged at his lips in a small smile and helplessly pressed a hand to his forehead.
“I thought I had hidden it really well.” He gave a wry smile. The warm winter sunlight that was characteristic of the season fell across his face, making his features look pale and fragile.
“I originally planned to tell you properly after the college entrance exam…” He hesitated, the words dying on his lips. He lowered his gaze to Song Shiyue. The smile at the corners of his mouth could no longer hold, slowly flattening. Unconsciously, he pressed his lips together in nervous apprehension.
“So… are you rejecting me now?”
The girl’s eyes were too clear. When she asked him, there was no trace of nervousness or flirtation in her gaze. It passed straight through his chest, laying bare the carefully wrapped and hidden truth of his heart under the daylight.
In that instant, Zhou Zongbai already knew the outcome.
Sure enough, amid the surrounding stillness where not even the wind made a sound, three words fell into his ears.
“I’m sorry.”
The girl’s clear, sweet voice carried a faint note of apology and guilt at that moment. With those words, she drew an abrupt full stop to the three years of youthful longing he had carried in his heart.
It felt as though his boyhood had ended prematurely in that single moment.
「Moon」: 【Did you go to the temple fair today?】
His phone was being bombarded with messages nonstop; the device kept vibrating. His manager Liu Yan was sending one message after another, asking about the incident of him being photographed while out today.
Zhu Xingyan had no mind to deal with it and didn’t want to pay attention to anything from the outside world. In his eyes, only the little yellow moon icon remained, frozen in his line of sight.
The screen light turned off and on, on and off again. Zhu Xingyan stayed in the same position for a very long time, until the twilight gradually descended outside the window.
Finally, he moved. His finger tapped lightly, but he only replied with one word.
「Star」: 【Mm】
In front of the desk, tree shadows swayed.
Song Shiyue had already been home for quite a while before she saw Zhu Xingyan’s reply come through.
Her brow furrowed for a moment before slowly relaxing. She typed slowly, carefully choosing her words.
「Moon」: 【I went to the temple fair today too, with a few classmates. Unfortunately, we didn’t run into you】
In the room with no lights turned on, the night slowly swallowed the last remnants of daylight.
In the dim, blurred shadows, the boy’s motionless figure looked like it had been carved into a rugged, steep mountain.
Once again, the scene appeared before Zhu Xingyan’s eyes.
The temple fair was lively and joyous. They stood together — perfectly matched, harmonious, openly displaying every emotion in the middle of the crowd.
At that exact moment, in stark contrast, he was wrapped in a heavy down jacket, hiding in the corner of the street, his face concealed by a mask and scarf, like some object that could not bear the light.
He and she would never have a moment like that — standing openly together in the crowd under the sun.
Love was inferiority, was guilt, was a sweet poison that tormented him over and over again.
Never before had Zhu Xingyan seen it so clearly: he and she truly belonged to two different worlds. As long as she was with him, she could never live a normal life, and she would never be able to experience a normal romance.
Outside, the sky had turned completely dark. He sat in the darkness, staring at the only point of light coming from the screen, and slowly typed.
「Star」: 【Did you have fun?】