Probably to conceal the contours of her face, the girl let her hair fall loose, dutifully “playing” another person in front of him.
As expected.
—It was only under the condition of being “mistaken for someone else” that she would speak to him.
He Xueqi couldn’t quite describe what he was feeling at that moment, just as he couldn’t put into words the surge of intense alarm that erupted in his chest when he saw the message the girl typed: “Can you come over alone?”
What was he afraid of?
Yet in that instant, almost as if possessed, he interrupted her.
“Classmate Zhu.”
Then her gaze finally shifted away from the other person and landed on him.
The real reason behind the girl’s “disguise” was so simple. But when the truth was finally revealed, it made him wish he could erase his memory and return to the day he first met her.
She liked Gu Jinyan.
So she took a roundabout, careful approach, trying to bring him and her sister together.
Why did she choose him?
Did that mean that in her eyes, he should be the next best choice after Gu Jinyan?
…Just self-deception.
The thin mask seemed to give him an excuse to indulge himself too far. He said nothing, instead cooperating far more actively with this masquerade.
Even when he saw the girl’s flustered expression because of his approach, he felt a twisted sense of pleasure rise within him.
If she weren’t currently pretending to be “Zhu Feifei,” how would she treat him?
Would she politely say “hello,” glance past his face with distant indifference, then turn and leave?
He didn’t know.
That unread “good night” message was still lying at the very top of his pinned chat list.
If she found out that the reason Gu Jinyan suddenly came over was because he had “accidentally let it slip,” what would she think?
—She would probably hate him.
The girl took a few steps to his side. He turned away as if unintentionally, his fingertips lightly brushing against the back of her hand.
It felt like a cool snowflake gently sweeping across chamomile petals.
But chamomile would never like snowy days.
This KTV was located on the sixth floor of a shopping mall.
Leaving the blue-and-red neon lights behind, they could see a large children’s playground nearby, filled with a ball pit covered in colorful rubber balls.
“Wooo—gah—!”
A child shouted as they jumped down the slide, laughing as they crashed into the sea of balls.
…So noisy.
He Xueqi turned his head expressionlessly, just as a little girl came running out of it.
Perhaps she slipped. She only ran a few steps before losing her balance and “plop”—fell right in front of him.
He didn’t even blink. Taking a step forward, he cleanly stepped over her.
Realizing she had been “jumped over,” the little girl who had initially been confused paused—then pouted and burst into loud tears.
At once, all the passersby turned to look.
The girl clearly panicked, quickly crouching down and gently patting the child’s back.
“What’s wrong? Did you get hurt? Are you okay?”
The child stopped crying.
The little girl grabbed the girl’s arm, blinking: “Hug me, big sister…”
Before she could finish, her feet suddenly left the ground—she was lifted up and placed aside.
She looked up blankly. The cold-faced older boy was staring at her like he might eat children.
He said coldly, “Go find your parents.”
A few seconds later, a new round of “waaa—” erupted.
…
“Got separated from your family?”
The little girl hummed while happily licking her ice cream, looking completely carefree.
Seeing the girl worrying, the child hesitated, then held out her saliva-covered ice cream to her.
“Big sister, eat!”
Even though it was the brother who bought it for her, she still wanted to give it to the big sister!
Zhu Shuiwen comforted her a couple of times. Seeing that the child had gone back to eating happily, she turned to He Xueqi and asked, “Should we take her to the announcement desk over there?”
He Xueqi said expressionlessly, “Let her go on her own. Or leave her here—someone who can’t stand it will take her.”
Fortunately, the little girl didn’t hear that. She was completely absorbed in her sweet ice cream; otherwise, she would probably have burst into tears again.
Zhu Shuiwen hesitated, then still asked, “What are you thinking?”
The question was calm, which made the boy slightly surprised.
After a pause, he said, “There’s risk.”
“What kind?”
“For example, after we take her there, what if her parents say, ‘Our child had 100 yuan missing—did you steal it?’ How would we respond?”
The girl choked slightly.
He continued, “Or if they say, ‘My child’s knee is swollen—did you push her? You’re abusing my child. Fine, pay up. What, you won’t? I’ll go to the media and expose you’—then what would you do?”
He described it vividly, like a professional scammer scenario, yet his tone remained as flat as a news broadcast. The contrast was almost absurdly funny.
The girl looked like she wanted to say something, but finally couldn’t hold back and pointed at the phone he was still holding upright.
“So… is that why you’ve been recording the whole time?”
“Basic protection.”
He Xueqi said calmly, “If you see people holding up banners every day on your way to school, it’s bound to get a bit upsetting. With a recording, at least you won’t be too passive.”
Zhu Shuiwen: “…fair enough.”
But normal people wouldn’t think of something so extreme, right? He spoke as if this was completely routine—why was he so practiced at this?
She suddenly remembered that whenever he entered a new environment, his first instinct wasn’t to look at the decor, but to record the exact locations of every surveillance camera.
He seemed like someone walking through a swamp in the dead of night, carefully taking every step to avoid being dragged down into the mud.
—Like a lone wolf in a snowfield, always solitary.
Seeing her brows knit together, He Xueqi fell silent for a moment before putting his phone away.
“Aren’t you going to record anymore?”
“No. It doesn’t really matter anymore,” he said. “I already bought her a soft-serve ice cream. If she ends up in the hospital with diarrhea, or if she turns out to be allergic to milk or something… I won’t be able to avoid liability.”
He paused. His expression didn’t change, but his speech slowed slightly. “If you don’t like it, I won’t record.”
In the video, the girl gently wiped the little child’s face. That softness made him feel oddly irritated, yet he couldn’t look away.
As for the so-called “recording,” even he couldn’t say how much of it was driven by personal motive.
The girl, however, didn’t notice his second sentence. She sharply drew in a breath.
“But…”
—But the soft-serve was bought by you.
The words got stuck in her throat.
Just earlier, the little girl had been crying nonstop, and she had been flustered trying to comfort her, thinking of using sweets as a bribe.
But she had only glanced at the dessert counter before the boy casually said, “I’ll go buy it.”
He Xueqi misunderstood her “but.” His fingertips pressed against the tabletop until they turned slightly pale, and in the end, he simply said, “I only tend to assume the worst. Sorry.”
The girl suddenly stood up and hurried to the ordering window.
Not long after, she came back carrying a tray.
She picked up a crispy, golden fry and waved it in front of him, her nose wrinkling a little in a satisfied, almost playful way.
“Now we’re accomplices,” she said softly.