The scenery outside the car window flickered past in a blur. Sitting sideways in the passenger seat, Song Muxiang couldn’t look natural no matter how hard he tried.
Even though the person in the driver’s seat was once one of his closest, inseparable best friends, his current posture made it look like he was trying to dodge some terrifying plague. But then again, who reunites with a friend after years of no contact only for their very first words to be, “I’m pregnant with your child”?
Ever since Song Muxiang played that earth-shattering voice message in front of Xia Zhaoye moments ago, the atmosphere between them had turned incomparably awkward.
“Muxiang.”
Xia Zhaoye broke the silence first, though the words sounded like standard small talk she had been holding back for ages: “How have you been these past few years?”
“Pretty good,” Song Muxiang replied, his gaze still fixed elsewhere. “You didn’t even tell us you were coming back.”
“I just came back to visit. Didn’t expect to run into you right away.”
“Oh…”
And the topic died again.
Song Muxiang tapped his fingers lightly against the window, a sudden impulse rising in his chest to roll it down and leap out of the moving car. It wasn’t that Xia Zhaoye was actually terrifying; it was just that the shock he had received today was far too overwhelming for him to calm down.
Why on earth had he gotten into Xia Zhaoye’s car in the first place?
Xia Zhaoye had said it was on her way, and Song Muxiang had somehow wandered right in while half-dazed.
“A bit stuffy, isn’t it? I’ll open the window for you.” As the glass rolled down, gusts of cool wind brushed against Song Muxiang’s face, making him instinctively squint and relax a little.
He finally summoned the courage to turn and look at Xia Zhaoye.
After five years apart, describing the present Xia Zhaoye as a completely different person wouldn’t be an exaggeration at all.
In Song Muxiang’s memory, Xia Zhaoye had always sported a prickly buzz cut, her arm skin unevenly tanned from playing basketball under the sun for hours. Wearing prescription glasses, her whole presence had felt plain, low-profile, and utterly forgettable.
If Song Muxiang hadn’t noticed an inverted triangle logo on the temple arm of her glasses back then, he really would have assumed she was just a modest, unassuming kid.
Yet Xia Zhaoye truly had been honest to a fault—a person of few words and constant action. Back in high school, when people crammed piles of love letters into Song Muxiang’s desk drawer, she was the one who quietly sorted and hid them away so he wouldn’t become a frequent visitor to the dean’s office for “premature romance.”
Unfortunately, this thoughtful friend had transferred abroad in their second year of high school and vanished without a trace, leaving Song Muxiang believing he’d never see her again in this lifetime.
The lights and shadows of the night cast themselves over Xia Zhaoye’s face, vanishing in the blink of an eye, highlighting her deep, sharp eyes beneath prominent brow bones.
Her buzz cut had grown much longer, her bangs styled into an elegant wave with setting spray. The Versace sunglasses pushed up onto her head and the golden Medusa logo on them—accentuated a certain bold, striking aura.
Anyone looking at her now would fail to connect her to the person she used to be.
Soothe-tempo English songs he had never heard before drifted through the car. Song Muxiang leaned back into his seat, staring at the reflection on the window, and let out a quiet sigh. “Thank you.”
Xia Zhaoye asked, “Thank me for what?”
“Thank you for giving me a ride. The gas for this car must be pretty expensive, right?” He meant it sincerely.
“With the relationship between us, do you really need to say things like that?” Xia Zhaoye chuckled softly, turning the steering wheel to make a U-turn. As the car slowed down, Song Muxiang realized he had already been brought back to his university gate.
Wait. Ever since he got into the car, his mind had been foggy; he didn’t recall telling Xia Zhaoye which university he went to. She hadn’t even turned on navigation—how did she know where to drop him off?
Did going abroad for a few years somehow teach her mind-reading or foresight?
A pair of hands reached across the seat, naturally unbuckling Song Muxiang’s seatbelt for him. Before he could snap out of his daze, Xia Zhaoye had already gotten out of the car, walked around to the other side, and opened the door for him like a true gentleman.
It almost made him dream back to his school days when Xia Zhaoye brought him breakfast every single day.
“Get some rest early.” Xia Zhaoye looked at him, her voice low and laced with a subtle hint of hesitation. “About what happened today…”
“I was just joking around with someone, it’s nothing.” Song Muxiang cut in quickly. Having recovered most of his composure, he hastily found an excuse to block her questions.
After all, Xia Zhaoye knew nothing about the messy state of his love life during their five years apart, and he had no reason to drag her into his negative emotions.
Xia Zhaoye’s eyes shifted slightly as if silently sizing him up before saying, “If you run into any trouble, you can always come to me.”
Song Muxiang nodded.
Having received no notification on his phone the entire ride, his message sent to the suspect “father” having vanished into the void hearing Xia Zhaoye say this truly made him sigh with emotion. Friends really were the most reliable.
“Then I’ll—”
“Hey, Muxiang-ge!”
An energetic voice broke out behind him, interrupting Xia Zhaoye mid-sentence.
Song Muxiang turned around to see someone dressed head-to-toe in a fluorescent green hoodie and matching sweatpants waving at him. The junior approached with easy familiarity, slapping him on the shoulder. “Muxiang-ge, we were just looking for you! That competition you helped us with last time—we won first place!”
Xia Zhaoye’s face darkened for a split second before instantly returning to normal.
“That’s because you guys are awesome; I didn’t do much.” Song Muxiang held the hand resting on his shoulder, but catching Xia Zhaoye still standing nearby out of the corner of his eye, he suddenly felt his action was somewhat leaving her out in the cold. He discreetly nudged the junior’s hands away.
“The prize money is pretty huge! We’re planning to go out for drinks to celebrate—want to come along?” Unfazed by having his hands pushed away, the junior casually slid his hand down to Song Muxiang’s arm and squeezed his biceps twice. “Muxiang-ge, there’s no muscle on your arms at all! Want to hit the gym with me? Hey, let me show you my recent gains—”
“He doesn’t drink.” Xia Zhaoye stepped forward out of nowhere, staring straight at the junior beside Song Muxiang, her gaze dark and her voice heavy. “And he doesn’t work out.”
“Oh, well, working out is pretty good though? Girls nowadays love guys with muscles.”
“Xiao Zhao.” Sensing the atmosphere growing stranger by the second, Song Muxiang nudged the junior with his elbow. “I have an appointment with someone, you guys go enjoy yourselves. Remember to send me a picture when you get the certificate.”
“He has an appointment with me,” Xia Zhaoye added immediately.
“Oh, right! Sure thing!” Xiao Zhao scratched his head and gave Song Muxiang another slap on the back. “I’ll tell the others we’re heading off first then, and I’ll call you later!”
The gym sessions certainly hadn’t gone to waste. The sheer force behind that slap caused Song Muxiang to stumble forward, nearly crashing right into Xia Zhaoye’s arms.
Waving the junior off, Song Muxiang let out a long sigh.
“By the way, do you want to…” Song Muxiang was about to ask Xia Zhaoye if she wanted to grab a meal together as a way to pay for the gas, but turning around, he found she was already back in the driver’s seat. She had even pulled her sunglasses back down over her eyes, speaking to him through the lowered window: “I’ll head off first. Call me anytime if anything comes up.”
Song Muxiang blinked in utter disbelief. “Oh… okay.”
Wearing sunglasses in the dark…?
In the next moment, the window rolled up, the Porsche engine roared, and the car zipped away in an instant.
Leaving Song Muxiang standing bewildered in the wind. This was already the second time today he had been left dazed in the breeze.
The phone in his pocket had been vibrating endlessly. Song Muxiang pulled it out, stared at the caller ID for two seconds, and pressed answer anyway. “Luo Yuan.”
“Muxiang, are you okay? Are you really okay?” Luo Yuan’s anxious voice practically overflowed through the phone signal. “No matter what happens, you can’t just ignore my calls! I was scared to death because of you all day! What did the doctor diagnose you with? Let me tell you, don’t be afraid—medical technology is so advanced nowadays, it can definitely be cured. Whatever you do, don’t give up on yourself!”
His problem didn’t really seem like something easy to cure.
“West District McDonald’s. I’ll tell you there. Remember to order a set meal for me.” Song Muxiang stepped into the campus gate, then paused as something struck him. “…No iced Coke, swap it for pure milk.”
Remembering the ultrasound scan he had impulsively thrown into the trash can earlier, he felt a sting of regret.
He didn’t know the first thing about this stuff. He wondered if bringing it to a science major like Luo Yuan would yield any clues?
“Welcome—”
“You said what?!”
Song Muxiang quietly sipped his boxed milk, watching Luo Yuan across the table, whose expression was so dumbfounded his jaw was practically touching the floor.
“Didn’t you say you were seeing a doctor because of a loss of appetite and headaches? How did a child suddenly enter the picture?!” The pickle slice fell right out of Luo Yuan’s hamburger. Completely losing his appetite for his favorite Double Cheeseburger, his expression shifted from shock to disbelief, and finally to rage. Slamming his hand onto the table, he yelled:
“Who’s the father?!”
“Can you keep your voice down?” Song Muxiang quickly shielded the side of his face, whispering to Luo Yuan. “Don’t get so worked up. I just don’t know how to explain the test results to you. It might be a misdiagnosis, right? Once I finish this busy stretch, I’ll go to a bigger hospital to get checked again.”
“How could something this big be a misdiagnosis!” Luo Yuan slammed the table once more. Though his voice was slightly lower this time, it was still loud enough for everyone around them to hear clearly. “You have to come clean with me. Who on earth is the father?! You need to make him take responsibility!”
Song Muxiang glanced around, noticing quite a few eyes already darting toward them, and instantly regretted his decision.
He shouldn’t have expected Luo Yuan to be of any help. It would have been better to say nothing at all. If he got posted onto the campus confession wall again tomorrow, his next exposé PDF would practically write itself.
Luo Yuan shoved a French fry into his mouth, his eyes rolling back and forth as if in deep thought, until he reached a sudden conclusion. “You don’t need to say a word. I get it all now.”
Song Muxiang shot him a look. “Get what?”
Luo Yuan didn’t answer him. Instead, he devoured the rest of his burger like a hungry hound in two big bites, grabbed a napkin to wipe his mouth carelessly, and stood up to leave. “Rest assured, after all these years together, I understand you.”
“I won’t tell a single soul—not even on my deathbed.” Luo Yuan made a zipping motion over his lips, then unzipped them briefly to add, “By the way, don’t eat the burger. Pickles aren’t good for the baby.”
Leaving those parting words behind, Luo Yuan strode out the door like a man who had accomplished a great mission, leaving Song Muxiang sitting alone in his seat.
Once again, Song Muxiang was left sitting alone at the table in complete bewilderment.
Did a single one of his friends actually have a dependable head on their shoulders?
The living room lights were turned off. Only tiny pinpricks of light from outside the floor-to-ceiling windows filtered into the dark room. A phone rested on the coffee table with its screen lit up, displaying the top few messages of a chat log.
Xia Zhaoye sat motionless on the sofa as if her pressure points had been struck. A droplet of water dripped from the wet tips of her hair, landing on the screen with a soft pat.
She had just taken a cold shower and wore only a bathrobe. Her dark eyes stared intently at the chat records for a long while, no one knowing what thoughts were racing through her mind.
Picking up her phone, she walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window and looked out into the night.
In the distance stood rows of student dormitories side by side.
“Hello?” Xia Zhaoye spoke into the phone, her voice sounding raspy. “Are you sure these things weren’t made up just to mess with me?”
“I wouldn’t dare do that to you, Boss,” the voice on the other end replied. “It really was created internally by the students, but the actual truth behind it still needs to be verified. What should we do?”
Xia Zhaoye raised her hand to touch the window pane, slowly tracing across the glass until her fingertip landed on a specific spot, pointing right toward a certain dormitory building. “Block it all. Not a single trace is allowed to spread.”
“We can definitely stop the spread online, but in private, I can’t guarantee—”
“Figure it out yourself,” Xia Zhaoye interrupted coldly. With her raspy tone combined with the faint static of the phone call, the person on the other end immediately shut their mouth.
She hung up the call, her gaze still fixed outside the window.