The moment Xu Yan fell into Ji Ran’s arms, his heart inexplicably skipped a beat.
Steadying himself by holding onto Ji Ran’s arms, he feigned composure and said, “Thanks.”
“Where to?” Ji Ran got straight to the point. Xu Yan was caught off guard by the question—he had only acted on impulse to climb over the wall and hadn’t thought about where to go at all.
“I don’t know either.” Xu Yan met Ji Ran’s gaze. Moonlight fell on Ji Ran, making him appear colder yet more stunning than usual.
“Go home?” Ji Ran thought for a moment before hesitantly suggesting.
Xu Yan immediately refused, “I went through all the trouble of climbing over the wall—why would I go home? Besides, Ji Ran, it’s only 7:30 now. Even if I went home, there’s no homework. What would you do? Go to sleep?”
Ji Ran replied, “Do practice problems.”
Xu Yan fell silent for a moment, pouting unhappily before turning and walking ahead on his own. As he walked, he muttered, “Practice problems, practice problems—that’s all you ever think about. I was right about you—you’re just a problem-solving machine.”
Ji Ran caught up, grabbed Xu Yan’s sleeve, and interrupted, “Not a machine. I won’t do any tonight. I’ll keep you company.”
“Oh.” Xu Yan nodded, shook off Ji Ran’s hand, and continued walking.
“Go to an internet café?” Ji Ran suggested. If he remembered correctly, skipping class usually involved going to an internet café.
But Xu Yan grew even more displeased at the suggestion and stubbornly said, “No.” Going there would mean taking on orders—essentially working overtime—and he wasn’t about to do that. Besides, from what he knew of Ji Ran, Ji Ran would just curl up in a corner watching calculus explanation videos! More studying!
Xu Yan lowered his head, counting the raised bricks on the pavement. Just as he reached the thirty-first one, Ji Ran pulled him close.
“Watch where you’re going.” Ji Ran stiffened, a bit nervous—Xu Yan had almost walked straight into a tree.
Pulled abruptly, Xu Yan was stunned. Only after glancing at the tree trunk right in front of him did he realize what had almost happened. Relieved, he said, “Phew, good thing you were here.” Then, as if remembering something, the dimples on his cheeks reappeared, and he grinned brightly at Ji Ran. “Ji Ran, I’ve got it! Let’s go to People’s Park.”
Ji Ran was puzzled. “People’s Park?”
Xu Yan was baffled. “You don’t even know about People’s Park? Every Liling native should know People’s Park. It has a huge landmark of Liling, and it’s not far from No. 3 High School—just a twenty-minute walk.”
As he spoke, Xu Yan gestured animatedly, even a bit comically. Ji Ran couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, I don’t know. You lead the way.”
Hearing this, Xu Yan felt a bit smug—he knew this blockhead Ji Ran wouldn’t know the way. So, enthusiastically grabbing Ji Ran’s wrist, he followed the route he remembered, made a few turns around the entrance of Liling No. 3 High School, and promptly got lost.
The night grew darker, and the lively atmosphere along the street grew stronger.
Night market vendors lit up their stalls, stir-frying rice grains until they were distinct and fluffy. The stir-fried rice steamed with heat, occasionally releasing an enticing aroma that successfully made Xu Yan crave it.
Lost or not, he was starving now.
He pulled Ji Ran to stand in front of a night market vendor’s cart and stared at the fried rice for a long time, hesitating whether to order a portion. Ji Ran reminded him, “You’re still recovering from a cold.”
Xu Yan insisted stubbornly, “I’m fine.”
“It’s too greasy,” Ji Ran warned again.
“But I’m so hungry.” Xu Yan gazed longingly at the fried rice, only to be firmly dragged away by Ji Ran.
Ji Ran pulled Xu Yan along, navigating the night market with practiced ease. Originally, it had been Xu Yan leading the way, but somehow it had turned into Ji Ran taking charge. Xu Yan followed behind in surprise until Ji Ran stopped in front of a tricycle.
The tricycle was loaded with large and small insulated containers. A wrinkled old man, hunched over, sat on a low stool, looking kindly at Ji Ran and asking, “Xiao Ji, here for some porridge again today?”
Ji Ran nodded.
Xu Yan, however, was puzzled. How did Ji Ran know this place? And who was Ji Ran buying porridge for?
“Porridge is good for the stomach,” Ji Ran pointed at the insulated containers. “Grandpa Jiang makes it himself every day. It’s safe.”
“But I don’t like porridge,” Xu Yan lowered his head, speaking not too softly. “Why force me to drink it?”
“Little one, this batch was just made this afternoon. It’s sweet with millet and oats—really tasty,” Grandpa Jiang, sitting on the low stool, seemed to ignore Xu Yan’s complaint, smiling and beckoning. Xu Yan guiltily hid behind Ji Ran, muttering awkwardly, “Let’s go, let’s go. I really can’t drink porridge.”
Ignoring him, Ji Ran handed some loose change to Grandpa Jiang and stubbornly took two cups of porridge.
Xu Yan: “…”
So, it seemed he was stuck drinking porridge tonight.
Xu Yan took the cup of millet and oat porridge, turned, and walked away, fuming as he dragged Ji Ran along.
“Xiao Ji, where are you two off to? Aren’t you going home?” Grandpa Jiang’s voice called from behind. Ji Ran stopped, turned, and replied, “We’re heading to People’s Park. I’ll be back later.”
Listening to their familiar exchange, Xu Yan fell into thought.
“Is your home nearby?” Xu Yan probed.
Ji Ran nodded. “Yes.”
“So, you deliberately let me lead the way?”
“Mhm, but I didn’t expect you to be directionally challenged.”
Labeled as “directionally challenged” by Ji Ran, Xu Yan stared at him in surprise, even circling him once before hesitantly asking, “Are you possessed or something?”
“No.”
“Then why are you so sharp-tongued?”
Ji Ran dodged the question. “Are we going to People’s Park or not?”
Xu Yan immediately replied, “Yes! Of course we are!”
As Ji Ran pulled Xu Yan along, Xu Yan chattered nonstop the whole way: “Right, right, I remember now—this is the way.”
“It’s not much different from the route I took.”
At a crossroads, Xu Yan stopped, calmly recalling and analyzing, “Do we turn right here?”
“Left,” Ji Ran decisively pulled Xu Yan toward the left fork.
“Oh.” Xu Yan fell silent, following Ji Ran’s lead. Soon, at the end of the road, they caught sight of a massive floating whale sculpture in the distance.
Neon lights illuminated the silver sculpture, and People’s Park buzzed with energy and lively crowds.
The music of square dancing echoed across People’s Square, where elderly men and women moved in perfect sync to the rhythm. Xu Yan cheerfully found a stone bench and sat down, watching with great interest.
Ji Ran stood silently beside him.
“Ji Ran, I remember there used to be a musical fountain here,” Xu Yan pointed toward the area where the elderly were dancing, smiling as he spoke.
“It was removed,” Ji Ran paused. “People’s Park was renovated. Didn’t you know?”
“Huh?” Xu Yan pretended ignorance and stood up, pulling Ji Ran into a quiet path nearby. “I remember there used to be a bunch of stray cats here too.”
“They moved,” Ji Ran’s gaze grew somber. “The cats left years ago.”
“Oh. It’s changed so much.” Xu Yan stated calmly, though he felt a pang of sadness inside.
Ever since he moved away, he had never returned to People’s Park, never paid attention to the changes in this area, and never understood the comings and goings here.
The newly renovated People’s Park, the towering buildings that had sprung up around it, and the dazzling neon lights had all overwritten his childhood memories, signaling that he had never truly belonged here.
But before the age of six, he had friends in People’s Park, and his home was among those tall buildings. Tonight, he seemed particularly sentimental. As he thought about it, a thin mist clouded his eyes, making it hard to keep them open.
“What’s wrong?” Ji Ran asked softly, noticing that Xu Yan’s mood seemed slightly off.
“It’s nothing,” Xu Yan blinked. “Just some sand in my eyes.”
“Ji Ran, did you know? My family used to live around here,” Xu Yan smiled. “When I was six, I was quite the notorious little troublemaker in this neighborhood.”
“I might have even bullied you.”
Ji Ran didn’t respond, simply accompanying Xu Yan as they continued deeper along the path.
“I haven’t told you much about my family, have I?” Xu Yan stopped and glanced at a bench beside the path. “I’m tired from walking. I’ll sit for a while.”
“Alright,” Ji Ran naturally sat down beside Xu Yan. Exhausted, Xu Yan leaned his head against Ji Ran’s shoulder.
In an instant, every nerve in Ji Ran’s body tensed up. He stiffened, shifting his gaze to the side.
Xu Yan, however, was completely relaxed. He felt comfortable around Ji Ran, so he poured out everything he wanted to say: “I used to live around here, over there.”
Ji Ran followed the direction of Xu Yan’s finger. It looked familiar, almost like the area near his own home.
“My parents divorced, so I don’t live there anymore. I live with my mom now. She found me a stepdad, and they had a little sister—a burden, really.”
“I don’t like the name Xu Yan. I really don’t like it.”
Ji Ran was puzzled. “Why?”
“Before registering my household, my stepdad gave me a new name—Xu Yan, with the character for ‘dislike.’ But the lady at the registration office probably thought it wasn’t a good name, so she took pity on me and registered it as ‘Yan’ instead.”
Ji Ran felt an inexplicable ache in his heart. He thought his own experiences were tough enough, but it turned out Xu Yan had his share of hardships too. Yet this ache wasn’t born out of some vague sympathy—it was because he liked Xu Yan.
He wanted to comfort Xu Yan, so he dug through his limited literary knowledge and replied softly, “A man of virtue is called ‘Yan.'”
“Huh?” Xu Yan was pleasantly surprised. “That’s a really cool interpretation. But I’m fine—it’s just a name. I stopped caring about it a long time ago.”
Xu Yan stood up and stretched, pulling Ji Ran, who was still sitting on the bench, to his feet. “Let’s go. It’s about time. I feel much better now.”
“Thank you for being willing to keep me company tonight.”
Xu Yan was happy. He rarely had such a quiet evening, with someone by his side, listening to the words he had kept buried deep in his heart.
Ji Ran was truly wonderful.
As they left the park, the lively crowd in the square had already dispersed. At the fork in the road, they prepared to head their separate ways.
“So, what was your name before you were six?” Ji Ran asked abruptly, catching Xu Yan off guard. The name he had before six—he was almost afraid to say it.
But he still naively believed that he probably hadn’t left an indelible impression on anyone at the age of six, and he answered honestly, “Xie Xinglan.”
Ji Ran: “…”
“Then I’ll head off?” Xu Yan pointed to the crosswalk and said, “Get some rest early. We still have homework to catch up on when we go back tomorrow.”
Ji Ran nodded silently.
He felt like he might not be able to sleep tonight.