The next morning, the rain miraculously ceased over Linchuan.
The sky remained overcast, but the cloud layer was considerably thinner than in previous days. Rainwater still pooled on the sports field, and the camphor tree leaves swayed gently in the wind, occasionally dropping a few stray raindrops leftover from the night before.
When Shen Zhiyao walked into Class 2-3, very few people had arrived in the classroom.
The window seat was empty. Cheng Ye’s chair sat beside the desk, and a half-visible workbook stuck out from his desk drawer. However, the desktop was neater than yesterday at least free of snack wrappers and crumpled worksheets.
Shen Zhiyao set his backpack down and pulled a new black long-handled umbrella from the side pocket.
The ribs of yesterday’s folding umbrella were beyond repair. He had tried to fix it for a long time after getting home, but his mother eventually saw him and casually tossed it into the trash can.
“If it’s broken, replace it. Don’t waste time on useless things.”
He had been on the phone when she said that, his tone calm, without her gaze lingering on the umbrella for even a second.
Shen Zhiyao hadn’t argued.
It was true that broken things ought to be replaced.
Only, he occasionally felt that people could say things like “useless” or “don’t need it anymore” far too easily if the moment a decision was made, every trace of its prior existence would vanish right along with it.
He leaned the new umbrella against the wall and pressed the tip of the desk against the handle to keep it from slipping over.
Just as he sat down, the back door was kicked open.
Cheng Ye burst into the classroom with his backpack on, holding two steaming paper bags in his hands.
“Out of the way, out of the way! Hot!”
He squeezed through the aisles of the back rows and placed one of the paper bags in front of Shen Zhiyao.
“Breakfast.”
Shen Zhiyao glanced at it.
Inside the bag were two fresh, hot red bean paste buns, the paper already steamed with a faint veil of moisture.
“I ate.”
“I know.”
“Then why give them to me?”
“I bought too many bread rolls yesterday, and today I bought too many red bean paste buns.”
Cheng Ye sat down naturally and unzipped his backpack.
Shen Zhiyao didn’t reach out for it.
“You buy too many every single day?”
“Occasionally.”
“Two days in a row counts as occasionally?”
Cheng Ye paused his movement and turned to look at him.
“Didn’t you say yesterday that I ask too many questions?”
“Mm.”
“So who’s asking too many questions now?”
Shen Zhiyao fell silent for two seconds, then pushed the paper bag back.
“I don’t want it.”
Cheng Ye pushed it back again.
“If you really can’t finish it, save it for break. Red bean buns still taste good cold.”
“Why give it to me?”
“Because my mom steamed too many.”
“You said yesterday your family sells stationery.”
“People who sell stationery can steam buns too.”
Looking at his deadly earnest expression, Cheng Ye couldn’t help but laugh.
“Do you think I’m making things up again?”
“Aren’t you?”
“Really not this time.” Cheng Ye pulled one out of his own bag and took a bite. “My mom steamed them this morning. He heard a transfer student joined our class and told me to bring you some to try.”
Shen Zhiyao froze slightly.
“She knows about me?”
“I mentioned it when I got home.”
“What did you say?”
“Said we got a new classmate.”
Cheng Ye answered quickly, then added as if recalling something:
“Didn’t say anything else.”
Shen Zhiyao looked at him.
“I didn’t ask if you said anything else.”
“Just clarifying in advance.”
“Why?”
The question caught Cheng Ye off guard.
With half a bite of bun still in his mouth, he thought about it seriously for a moment before mumbling: “Afraid you’d think I was badmouthing you behind your back.”
“What bad things do you have to say about me?”
“Like being cold to people, scoring too high in math, and always saying ‘it’s fine’.”
Shen Zhiyao lowered his eyes and took the paper bag back.
Cheng Ye immediately grinned.
“Are you gonna eat it or not?”
“I’ll eat it during break.”
“Deal.”
When the morning reading bell rang, Cheng Ye finally realized he had forgotten his Chinese textbook.
He rummaged through his drawer twice and turned his backpack completely upside down, finding nothing except a ballpoint pen that rolled onto the floor and a half-eaten pack of biscuits.
“Didn’t you copy The Arduous Road to Shu yesterday?” Shen Zhiyao asked.
“I did.”
“Where’s the book?”
“Probably left it at home.”
“You didn’t put it in your bag after you finished copying it?”
“I was too sleepy after copying, so I forgot.”
Shen Zhiyao looked at him.
“Do you pack your schoolbag every morning?”
“No.”
“Then when do you pack it?”
“After I get to school.”
Cheng Ye shifted his chair closer to Shen Zhiyao and deftly pulled Shen Zhiyao’s Chinese textbook over between them.
“Let me share yours.”
Shen Zhiyao didn’t stop him.
Sharing a single book naturally brought them closer together than usual.
Cheng Ye read aloud in a fairly loud voice, his breath falling softly upon the pages. When turning the page, he habitually held down the bottom left corner with his finger. Shen Zhiyao had originally been reading the annotations on the side, but his view kept being blocked by Cheng Ye’s moving fingers.
“Stop moving,” Shen Zhiyao said quietly.
Cheng Ye paused. “What?”
“Your hand.”
“What about my hand?”
“It’s blocking the words.”
Cheng Ye pulled his hand back right away.
A few seconds later, a breeze from the window fluttered the edge of the page.
He instinctively reached out again to hold it down, landing his hand right on top of the back of Shen Zhiyao’s hand.
Both of them froze.
The palm of Cheng Ye’s hand was very warm.
Shen Zhiyao’s hand, on the other hand, still retained a trace of chill from having just touched the umbrella handle.
Cheng Ye quickly pulled his hand back.
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
Shen Zhiyao smoothed the page flat, resting his eyes on the text once more.
Neither of them spoke again.
Unison recitation echoed from the front rows, while outside the window, a bird swooped past the top of the camphor tree, its wings brushing down a few tiny droplets of water.
Cheng Ye read silently for a moment, then suddenly murmured, “Why are your hands so cold?”
“It’s cold weather.”
“It’s not cold today.”
“It’s fine.”
Cheng Ye let out a small laugh.
“There you go again.”
Shen Zhiyao ignored him.
The weather stayed quite pleasant throughout the morning.
After the second class period, a faint patch of sunlight even broke through the clouds, spilling onto the window sill. Though pale, it was enough to brighten the entire classroom.
Cheng Ye rested his head on the desk, tilting his head to look at that spot of sunlight.
“It probably won’t rain today.”
Shen Zhiyao was organizing his mistake notebook without looking up.
“The weather forecast said there would be rain showers this afternoon.”
“When has Linchuan’s weather forecast ever been accurate?”
“It was very accurate yesterday.”
“Yesterday didn’t even need a forecast you just had to look up to know it was going to rain.”
As Cheng Ye spoke, he picked up Shen Zhiyao’s new umbrella from the corner of the desk.
“Swapped for a new one?”
Shen Zhiyao reached out and pulled it back.
“Mm.”
“Still black.”
“Does an umbrella need to be any other color?”
“Of course,” Cheng Ye said. “Rainy days are dark enough as it is. Holding a black umbrella on top of that—doesn’t that make it even darker?”
“Your umbrella is dark blue too.”
“Dark blue and black aren’t the same.”
“They’re about the same.”
“They’re completely different.”
Cheng Ye opened his desk drawer as if trying to prove his point, but after rummaging around for a while, he couldn’t find his dark blue long-handled umbrella.
He bent down to look under his desk.
Empty.
“Where’s your umbrella?” Shen Zhiyao asked.
Cheng Ye’s movements stiffened.
“Probably at the bike shed.”
“You held an umbrella yesterday when you rode your bike home.”
“Then maybe it’s at home.”
“You didn’t bring it?”
Cheng Ye sat up straight and raised his chin toward the small patch of sunlight outside the window.
“It might not rain today anyway.”
Shen Zhiyao followed his gaze.
The patch of sunlight had already been covered up by gathering clouds once more.
“There are showers this afternoon.”
“How do you remember so clearly?”
“Checked before leaving home.”
“Specifically checked the weather?”
“Mm.”
“Why?”
Shen Zhiyao glanced at him.
“Because yesterday someone reminded me to switch umbrellas.”
Cheng Ye froze for a moment.
Shen Zhiyao had already lowered his head, continuing to write out a formula in his notebook.
Cheng Ye rested his chin on the desk and watched him, a smile slowly creeping onto his lips.
“You’re pretty obedient.”
The tip of the pen paused on the paper.
Shen Zhiyao looked up, his expression impassive.
“You can say that again.”
“I said you have a good memory.”
Cheng Ye promptly changed his tune.
The last class of the afternoon was physical education.
Since the track wasn’t completely dry, the PE teacher had them jog two laps around the academic building before releasing them for free activity.
Cheng Ye and Lin Po went to the basketball court.
Shen Zhiyao didn’t join in. Sitting alone at the very top of the bleachers, he flipped through a photography magazine borrowed from the library with his head down.
The rhythmic pounding of a basketball against the court echoed from below, mixed with the squeak of sneakers against pavement and the shouting of boys.
“Cheng Ye, on your right!”
“Pass the ball!”
“Don’t shoot, no angle”
The next second, the basketball struck the backboard, spun half a turn along the rim, and swished cleanly through the net.
A burst of cheering erupted around the court.
Shen Zhiyao looked up.
Cheng Ye had just trotted away from under the basket. The fringe on his forehead was soaked with sweat, and his uniform jacket had been casually tossed over the railing, leaving him in just his white short-sleeved shirt underneath.
He smiled and raised his hand to high-five Lin Po, his side profile vividly illuminated by the overcast sky.
Seemingly noticing the gaze from the bleachers, Cheng Ye suddenly raised his head.
Their eyes locked across half the court.
Shen Zhiyao promptly lowered his head again.
A few minutes later, the sound of footsteps echoed up the bleacher steps.
Cheng Ye stopped in front of him, panting slightly.
“What are you reading up here all by yourself?”
“A magazine.”
“I know it’s a magazine.” Cheng Ye leaned over to look at the cover. “Photography?”
“Mm.”
“Is it that interesting?”
“More interesting than basketball.”
Cheng Ye raised an eyebrow.
“You watched the basketball?”
“I did just now.”
“For how long?”
“A few seconds.”
“A few seconds is enough to judge it’s no good?”
“More than enough.”
Cheng Ye sat down next to him, reaching out to pull the magazine a bit toward himself.
The inner page featured a series of rainy cityscapes a gray city, pedestrians holding umbrellas, and neon light reflections scattered across puddles.
“What’s the point of this kind of photo?” Cheng Ye asked.
“Everyone sees something different.”
“All I see is rain.”
“Which is why you’re not suited for photography.”
“Then what do you see?”
Shen Zhiyao looked at the photograph.
In the center of the frame stood a person without an umbrella among the passing crowd, their figure blurred by rainwater and light.
“Someone waiting for the rain to stop.”
Cheng Ye stared at it for a moment.
“Could also just be someone who forgot their umbrella.”
“…”
Shen Zhiyao pulled the magazine back.
Cheng Ye chuckled and stood up.
“Back to playing ball. Don’t sit too long, it’s windy.”
He jogged down the steps.
Shen Zhiyao reopened the magazine, but his gaze lingered on that same page for a very long time.
Before long, a drop of water fell onto the paper.
At first, Shen Zhiyao thought it was leftover rainwater dripping from a tree leaf.
Immediately after, a second drop fell, then a third.
Someone below the bleachers yelled, “It’s raining!”
The previously calm court instant turned chaotic.
Students clutched basketballs and jackets as they sprinted toward the academic building, while the PE teacher blew his whistle, ordering everyone back to class.
The rain came suddenly.
In less than half a minute, tiny raindrops merged into a heavy curtain, thudding densely against the roof over the bleachers.
Shen Zhiyao closed the magazine and stood up.
Cheng Ye ran back from the court holding his uniform jacket in one hand, his hair already soaked.
“Didn’t you say there’d be rain showers this afternoon?”
“Mm.”
“Why didn’t you remind me?”
“You said the weather forecast wasn’t accurate.”
Cheng Ye was left speechlessly stumped.
Shen Zhiyao looked at him.
“It’s accurate now.”
“Fine, you win.”
The two returned to the classroom along with the other students.
The rain grew heavier and heavier.
Before the last self-study period had even ended, the world outside the window looked as though covered by a sheet of white water. The distant academic buildings were reduced to vague outlines, water poured down from the eaves, and the hallway floor quickly became soaked.
Sitting in his seat, Cheng Ye kept looking out the window every few moments.
Having finished writing a page of practice problems, Shen Zhiyao finally spoke up: “What are you looking at?”
“Seeing when it’ll stop.”
“The forecast said it would last until evening.”
“You remember even that?”
“Mm.”
Cheng Ye sighed and slumped back onto his desk.
“I’m doomed.”
“You can wait until the rain lightens up.”
“I have to go to the store.”
“The stationery store?”
“Yeah,” Cheng Ye said. “My dad went to restock today, so my mom’s the only one at the store. I have to go help out after school.”
Shen Zhiyao didn’t say anything.
After the dismissal bell rang, people in the classroom hesitated to disperse.
Students with umbrellas clustered together in groups of two or three, while those without stood along the hallway making phone calls, waiting for parents to pick them up. Lin Po ran over from the front row holding a small umbrella printed all over with cartoon patterns.
“Cheng Ye, wanna walk together?”
Cheng Ye looked at the umbrella.
The canopy wasn’t large, and the edges were printed with a few bright yellow ducks.
“Yours?”
“Xu Zhi’s.”
“Where is he?”
“His dad picked her up, so she lent me the umbrella.”
“It’s barely big enough for just you.”
“We can squeeze.”
“If you stand on the left, my right half will get totally soaked.”
“Then you hold it.”
“Forget it.”
Cheng Ye waved his hand.
“You go ahead, I’ll wait a bit.”
Lin Po looked out the window.
“This rain isn’t stopping anytime soon.”
“It’s fine.”
“Then I’m really off?”
“Go on.”
Lin Po asked one more time, and after confirming he wasn’t going, he rushed into the rain holding that tiny umbrella.
Fewer and fewer people remained in the classroom.
Cheng Ye turned his chair around and sat on it backward, resting his chin on the backboard as he stared gloomily out the window.
Shen Zhiyao organized his schoolbag and picked up his new umbrella from beside the wall.
“Let me take you.”
Cheng Ye raised his head.
“What?”
“Don’t you need to go to the store?”
“Yeah.”
“Then let’s go.”
Cheng Ye glanced at the umbrella in his hand.
“You’re walking me?”
“Only to the bike shed,” Shen Zhiyao emphasized. “You have a bicycle, you can leave once you get to your bike.”
“In rain this heavy, riding a bike will get me soaked too.”
“That’s your problem.”
Cheng Ye laughed.
“Alright.”
The two left the classroom.
The stairwell was packed with students taking shelter from the rain. Shen Zhiyao didn’t take the main entrance; instead, he led Cheng Ye around via the path behind the science building.
Yesterday, Cheng Ye had led him along this path.
Today, their roles were completely reversed.
Shen Zhiyao opened his black long-handled umbrella.
The canopy was larger than yesterday’s folding umbrella, but the rain was falling so heavily that droplets continuously slid down its edge. Wind blew in from the side, slanting rain under the umbrella.
Cheng Ye stood beside him.
Their shoulders inevitably bumped together.
Shen Zhiyao shifted slightly to the side.
Cheng Ye immediately caught his wrist, pushing the umbrella handle back to the center.
“Don’t tilt it.”
“What?”
“Who was it yesterday that almost walked straight into the bushes?”
Shen Zhiyao looked down.
His left shoulder was already exposed outside the umbrella.
Cheng Ye held his wrist, his palm still very warm.
Realizing Shen Zhiyao was staring, Cheng Ye quickly let go.
“Keep the umbrella in the middle, otherwise both of us get soaked.”
Shen Zhiyao readjusted the angle.
“You kept tilting it toward me yesterday.”
“Did I?”
“You did.”
“That was because you kept dodging outward.”
“I’m not doing that today.”
“So today we keep it in the middle.”
The rain was too loud, forcing them to stand even closer when speaking.
The space beneath the umbrella was tiny.
Cheng Ye still carried the residual warmth from after PE class. His uniform jacket was slung over his arm, and the shoulder of his white short-sleeved shirt was already damp.
Shen Zhiyao looked straight ahead, but his grip on the umbrella handle tightened involuntarily.
The stone path was covered in puddles.
Cheng Ye walked on the side closer to the greenery; every time they passed a puddle, he would reach out in advance to shield Shen Zhiyao’s arm slightly.
“To the left.”
“There’s water here.”
“Slow down, it’s slippery ahead.”
Shen Zhiyao finally stopped walking.
Cheng Ye stopped too.
“What is it?”
“You talk too much.”
“I’m afraid you’ll slip.”
“I can see.”
“I could see yesterday too, and I still almost fell off the chair.”
Left speechless, Shen Zhiyao could only keep walking forward.
When they reached the sycamore tree, the wind suddenly picked up.
Rain came sweeping across sideways, forcing the umbrella canopy to flip backward violently.
Shen Zhiyao gripped the umbrella handle, but couldn’t steady it right away.
Cheng Ye reached out to press down on the umbrella ribs.
With both of them applying force at the same time, the umbrella was saved from being turned completely inside out.
“This new umbrella of yours isn’t great quality,” Cheng Ye said.
“It’s because the wind is too strong.”
“Yesterday it was a broken umbrella, today it’s strong wind. How come every time I walk down this path with you, it’s so much trouble?”
“You don’t have to walk with me.”
“Can’t do that.”
“Why?”
Cheng Ye looked at him with a grin.
“Because today, I’m the one who forgot an umbrella.”
Shen Zhiyao didn’t speak for a moment.
Holding the umbrella ribs with his hand, Cheng Ye stood even closer than before. Their hands gripped the same umbrella handle, one above the other, separated by only a tiny distance.
Rain pounded overhead.
All around them hung the damp scent of leaves.
Shen Zhiyao suddenly recalled the photograph from the magazine earlier that afternoon.
The person standing in the rain maybe they really just forgot their umbrella.
Not waiting for the rain to stop, nor forgotten by anyone.
Perhaps in the next second, someone would walk over from the crowd and raise an umbrella over their head.
“Let’s go,” Shen Zhiyao said.
Cheng Ye didn’t hear clearly.
“What?”
“I said, walk faster.”
“What’s the rush?”
“Aren’t you going to the store?”
“Right.”
The two picked up their pace.
The bike shed was right ahead.
Rain leaked down from broken spots in the shed roof. Cheng Ye’s bike was parked on the outermost edge, the seat already mostly splashed wet.
He walked over to unlock it while Shen Zhiyao stood beside him holding the umbrella.
Once the lock opened, however, Cheng Ye didn’t ride off right away.
“How are you getting back?”
“Taking the bus.”
“It’s still a walk from here to the stop.”
“I have an umbrella.”
Cheng Ye looked down into his bike basket and pulled out a transparent raincoat wrapped in a plastic bag.
“Good thing I had this on my bike.”
“Since you had a raincoat, why did you walk with me just now?”
Cheng Ye’s movement froze.
“I forgot.”
Shen Zhiyao looked at him.
“You really forgot?”
“Of course.”
“It was right in your basket.”
“The rain was too heavy earlier, I didn’t think of it.”
Shen Zhiyao didn’t expose him, merely shifting the umbrella a bit more toward his side.
Cheng Ye slipped on the raincoat, put his backpack into the basket, and covered it with a plastic bag.
“Wait for me a second.”
“What for?”
“I’ll walk you to the bus stop.”
“No need.”
“It’s on the way.”
“The stationery store isn’t in that direction.”
“How do you know?”
“You mentioned it yesterday.”
Cheng Ye hadn’t expected him to remember even that.
“It’s not that far anyway, just a slight detour.”
“Aren’t you going to help out?”
“A few minutes late won’t hurt.”
Shen Zhiyao held the umbrella handle, unmoving.
“Really, no need.”
“Then why did you walk with me to the bike shed yesterday?”
“Because my umbrella broke.”
“Today I didn’t bring my umbrella,” Cheng Ye said righteously.
Shen Zhiyao stared at him for a good while.
“Now you have a raincoat.”
“A raincoat can’t be worn by two people.”
“So I’m walking you.”
The logic was completely nonexistent.
Yet Cheng Ye was already pushing his bike out of the shed.
Shen Zhiyao had no choice but to follow.
Cheng Ye didn’t ride his bike; instead, he walked outside the umbrella, his transparent raincoat rustling loudly in the wind. He pushed his bike on the side closer to the road, as if intentionally blocking the water splashed by passing vehicles for Shen Zhiyao.
“Get under the umbrella,” Shen Zhiyao said.
“I have a raincoat.”
“Your pants will get wet.”
“It’s fine.”
“Your shoes will get wet too.”
“It’s fine.”
Shen Zhiyao paused his steps.
Cheng Ye turned back to look at him.
“What?”
“What did you just say?”
Realizing what he had said, Cheng Ye grinned, revealing a row of neat teeth.
“It’s fine.”
He deliberately repeated it.
“Does hearing that sound extra annoying?”
Shen Zhiyao averted his eyes.
“No.”
“You’re clearly annoyed.”
“No.”
“You’re walking even faster than before.”
“I’m catching the bus.”
“The bus is still ten minutes away.”
“How do you know?”
“I checked the bus sign yesterday.”
Shen Zhiyao looked toward him.
Rainwater ran down the hood of the clear raincoat, casting Cheng Ye’s face vividly under the moist sky.
He always seemed to be like this.
Appearing not to care about anything, yet remembering small details that Shen Zhiyao himself had never paid attention to.
They stopped in front of the bus stop.
Quite a few people were crowded under the bus shelter roof.
Shen Zhiyao collapsed his umbrella, rainwater trickling down the tip onto the pavement.
Cheng Ye parked his bike beside him.
“The bus will be here in a few minutes.”
“You can leave now.”
“I’ll wait until you get on.”
“No need.”
“I’ve walked you all the way here anyway.”
Shen Zhiyao didn’t try to persuade him further.
They stood side by side at the edge of the platform.
A curtain of rain enveloped the entire street, the headlights of distant cars blurring into misty glows in the haze.
After a moment, Cheng Ye suddenly asked, “Did you eat the red bean paste bun this morning?”
“Ate one.”
“Was it good?”
“It was fine.”
Cheng Ye turned to look at him.
“Just ‘fine’?”
Shen Zhiyao paused briefly.
“It was very delicious.”
“Now that’s more like it,” Cheng Ye grinned. “I’ll tell my mom when I get back.”
“Don’t tell her I said so.”
“Why?”
“No reason.”
“Are you shy?”
“No.”
“Then I’m telling her.”
Shen Zhiyao frowned at him.
Cheng Ye immediately pivoted: “I won’t say your name, I’ll just say the new classmate really liked it.”
The bus rounded the street corner and pulled up.
As Shen Zhiyao prepared to board, Cheng Ye suddenly pulled a plastic bag out from his bike basket and handed it to him.
“Here, for you.”
Inside was a clean towel.
“Aren’t you going to use it yourself?”
“There are more at the store.”
“I didn’t get wet.”
“Your left shoulder is wet.”
Shen Zhiyao glanced down.
Sure enough, a small patch on the shoulder of his uniform had darkened.
He took the towel.
“Thanks.”
Holding his bicycle, Cheng Ye stood in the rain and waved at him.
“Remember to bring an umbrella tomorrow.”
Shen Zhiyao looked at the raincoat on him.
“You should say that to yourself.”
“I’ll definitely bring one tomorrow.”
“The weather forecast says it won’t rain.”
“Then I need to bring it even more.”
“Why?”
Cheng Ye smiled and said, “In case someone forgets again.”
The bus doors slid open in front of Shen Zhiyao.
After stepping on, he walked over to sit by the window seat.
Through the rain-streaked glass, Cheng Ye remained standing in the same spot.
His clear raincoat puffed up in the wind like a clumsy shell that could be blown away at any moment. He held his bicycle with one hand while keeping his other hand raised in a farewell gesture.
Shen Zhiyao raised his hand and wiped a small, clear spot on the glass.
The bus slowly started moving.
His phone vibrated in his pocket.
A message arrived from Cheng Ye:
Who walked who today?
Shen Zhiyao stared at those words, his finger lingering on the screen for a moment.
He replied:
I walked you to the bike shed.
Cheng Ye quickly sent a second one:
I walked you to the stop.
Shen Zhiyao thought for a moment.
It cancels out.
The top of the chat box displayed “typing…” for a long time.
In the end, Cheng Ye only sent four words back:
then tomorrow it is.
Shen Zhiyao didn’t ask what “tomorrow” meant.
Putting his phone away, he looked out the bus window.
It was still raining outside.
Pedestrians on the street hurriedly sheltered under umbrellas some walking alone, others side by side.
Shen Zhiyao suddenly realized that forgetting an umbrella wasn’t necessarily a bad thing after all.
At least sometimes, it caused someone to step into the exact same rain together.