Forty minutes later, dinner began. Stuffed bitter melon, roasted chicken wings, candied apples, stir-fried vegetables, and steamed pumpkin, with plain congee as the staple.
Meng Luodi drank her congee and picked at the steamed pumpkin, gazing longingly at her favorite candied apples while accusing Meng Jingnian of being utterly unreasonable for making that dish precisely when she was recovering from gastroenteritis.
Little Ye Jiali had a curfew—he'd need to head back shortly after dinner. Originally, he wasn't supposed to stay for the meal, but Meng Jingnian told him to call home and let his parents know he'd be there. The Ye family was well-mannered and politely expressed their apologies for the imposition.
Meng Jingnian asked Ye Jiali to sit for a while, saying he'd drive him home after cleaning up the kitchen. The boy volunteered to help clear the dishes, but Meng Jingnian waved him off.
Lin Qin stacked the four empty bowls together and followed Meng Jingnian into the kitchen.
"Just leave them," Meng Jingnian said. "Don't get your clothes dirty."
Lin Qin hummed in acknowledgment, but still made another trip to the dining room, carrying the remaining plates back to the kitchen before grabbing a paper towel to wipe down the table.
When she returned to the kitchen, Meng Jingnian was loading the rinsed dishes into the dishwasher.
"Little Uncle, are you going anywhere for May Day?" Lin Qin hesitated for a moment before asking.
Meng Jingnian glanced at her. "No plans for now. Why?"
"My friend just messaged me—she's coming to Nancheng on the 3rd, and I'm playing tour guide. I thought it might be more convenient if I drove, but I haven't touched my license since I got it. Could I trouble you for one day…" Lin Qin added, "She's my best friend."
Meng Jingnian looked at her. "You've found a best friend?"
"Yes…" Lin Qin's heart crumpled—he still remembered. "She's my best friend, besides you."
Meng Jingnian smiled. "I'd be happy to be at your service."
/
When something is worth looking forward to, time flies by. After a few days of casual busyness, the May Day holiday arrived.
May 3rd was a clear day.
The old town was lively, with breakfast shops along the street opening early. The morning mist had yet to dissipate, and the wind carried a damp breath of dew and dust.
Lin Qin bought breakfast and returned home. Her friend Ji Wenxi, who had landed in Nancheng last night, had just gotten up and was washing up in the bathroom.
The apartment in the old town wasn't large—just over eighty square meters—a legacy left to Lin Qin by her parents. Since starting university, it had become her foothold in the city, sometimes a place for out-of-town friends to crash, sometimes a makeshift indoor studio.
"I bought breakfast. Come eat when you're done washing up," Lin Qin called toward the bathroom.
Ji Wenxi spat out her toothpaste foam. "Okay! Coming!"
A moment later, Ji Wenxi emerged from the bathroom.
"There are soup dumplings and potstickers." Lin Qin pointed at the table. "Didn't know what you'd want, so I got a bit of everything."
"Thanks." Ji Wenxi smiled and pulled out a chair, glancing over the table before picking up chopsticks to grab a soup dumpling. As she ate, she tilted her chin toward a paper bag on the other side of the table. "What's that?"
"Coffee and a sandwich. For today's driver."
"We have a driver today?"
"Otherwise, would you dare ride with me driving?"
"I'd dare to eat anything you cook."
Lin Qin's lips curved up slightly.
Ji Wenxi was three years older than Lin Qin, with a free-spirited personality—almost a perfect complement to Lin Qin's.
"Hey, Yiyi, are you going to do your makeup after you eat?" Ji Wenxi asked.
"I'm fine either way. Do you want to?"
"You should do yours—I'll take photos of you. What's the driver like? Is he handsome? If he's handsome, I'll do mine too…"
"He is handsome. But…"
"Hm?"
"He's my little uncle."
"No interest in old men."
"…"
After breakfast, Lin Qin put on a light, simple makeup look and, at Ji Wenxi's request, changed into a more versatile outfit.
Once ready, the two sat for a while until a WeChat message came through on Lin Qin's phone. Meng Jingnian notified her that the car had arrived at the entrance of the compound.
They went downstairs, crossed the courtyard shaded by lush plane trees, and reached the gate. A black SUV was parked by the roadside, hazard lights blinking.
Lin Qin walked over and opened the rear door, letting Ji Wenxi get in first.
Ji Wenxi set down her backpack and camera, then proactively greeted the person in the driver's seat: "Hello, I'm Yiyi's friend, Ji Wenxi. I'll be taking up your whole day—sorry for the trouble."
"Hello." Meng Jingnian turned around, smiling with a slight nod. "Not at all. I hope you enjoy your day."
Ji Wenxi caught sight of his face and froze for a second.
Lin Qin settled in and closed the door, greeting Meng Jingnian: "Little Uncle." Her gaze paused on him, taking the chance to look him over.
They'd actually seen each other just two days ago at the dinner at her aunt's place on May 1st, but on occasions like that, she never got much chance to talk to him, let alone spend time alone with him.
Today he wore a white shirt—somewhat like the one he'd worn that night when he went to Dean Jiang's house for dinner—made of a softer fabric, giving him an air of casual elegance.
"Got everything you need?"
Lin Qin withdrew her gaze, nodded, and handed over the paper bag. "Breakfast for you."
Meng Jingnian took it and glanced at it, then pulled out the iced Americano and placed it in the cup holder. He wasn't in the habit of eating high-carb breakfasts—they made him drowsy—and coffee to keep him alert was just what he needed.
Lin Qin had already sent today's itinerary to Meng Jingnian the night before. He connected his phone to CarPlay for navigation and set off for Bodhi Temple.
Meng Jingnian said, "It's a bit of a drive. You two can rest in the car for a while."
They agreed, but old friends who hadn't seen each other in a while always had plenty to talk about.
At first, they chatted about the customs and culture of Nancheng, and Meng Jingnian could still find room to chime in. Gradually, the conversation shifted to gossip within their circle, full of cryptic nicknames and insider slang.
Meng Jingnian focused on driving, occasionally stealing a glance in the rearview mirror.
Lin Qin—to put it kindly, she was somewhat aloof; to put it bluntly, she was withdrawn. Her social connections were thin, and she mostly kept to herself.
It seemed like the first time he'd ever seen her so lively and animated.
Bodhi Temple was a large temple with thriving incense offerings, and with the holiday, visitors came in an endless stream.
The three walked from the parking lot to the foot of the mountain, climbed the stone steps from the temple gate, and followed the crowd to the Grand Hall of Great Hero.
Ji Wenxi had been having a run of bad luck lately, and today she had come specifically because of Bodhi Temple's reputation for efficacy, so she naturally went inside to pay her respects.
Lin Qin looked at the throng of worshippers pressing shoulder to shoulder and hesitated, then told Ji Wenxi she'd wait outside the hall and hold her bag and camera for her. Ji Wenxi's camera lens alone weighed three jin, and photography wasn't allowed inside the hall, so she gladly shed the burden and entrusted it to Lin Qin.
Outside the Grand Hall stood a centuries-old locust tree, lush and verdant, its dense shade blocking out the sun.
Lin Qin walked with Meng Jingnian to the tree.
"Sorry for putting you out today," Lin Qin said, glancing at Meng Jingnian.
"Not at all. No need to be so formal," Meng Jingnian replied with a smile.
"Just now in the car, I was only chatting with my friend—I feel like I really did treat you as just the driver."
"Today's job was always to take care of you two."
Meng Jingnian's care was nothing short of thorough—not only had he stocked the car with purified water, but he'd also booked the Bodhi Temple tickets well in advance.
The two stood side by side facing the stone railing. A breeze blew past, and Lin Qin reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
Incense ash scattered in the air, carrying a rich scent of sandalwood. When the wind died down, he caught a faint, delicate sweetness—like a peach soaked in water.
"…How did you meet your friend?" Meng Jingnian leaned his arm against the railing.
"We were online friends at first. She came across some photos I'd taken, so she messaged me to ask if I'd model for her. After working together a few times, we gradually became friends. During the summer break after freshman year, I wasn't in a great place, so I went to Beicheng to clear my head and stayed at her place for those two weeks. She took me out to explore the streets, sharing her private memories and the shops she loved, holding nothing back… Now I make time to meet up with her every year. Even though we don't live in the same city, she's someone I can absolutely trust."
Meng Jingnian listened attentively, then suddenly asked, "Why weren't you in a good place that summer after freshman year?"
Lin Qin hadn't expected that after such a long explanation, his focus would land on that one line. She paused for a moment before saying, "…I had some insomnia."
"Was it serious?"
"…It was manageable."
Meng Jingnian looked at her, his usually gentle expression now unusually serious. "Yiyi, tell me the truth."
"…It's much better now. Really."
"Why couldn't you sleep? Did you see a doctor?"
"I did. The doctor diagnosed it as a sleep disorder. I took estazolam for a while, but it made me exhausted and gave me headaches, so I stopped."
"You never told me."
"…You have your own things to worry about."
"Yiyi, you know I've always worried about you. Within my means, I would never just leave you to fend for yourself."
Of course she knew how much he worried about her.
When she was eight and her parents died, Lin Qin went to live with her uncle and aunt. Her mutism lasted six months with no sign of improvement.
Before that, she'd ranked in the top five of her class; after the incident, her grades plummeted. And at the very moment she needed help most, her best friend had transferred to a school in another city because of her parents' job changes.
Back then, Lin Qin was extremely quiet, not uttering a word all day, like a lonely shadow.
Then, over a month later, she told Meng Jingnian through written notes that she'd made a new friend—a girl in her class whom she hadn't been close to before, but who had recently become a good companion.
The girl was very kind to her. When the boys in class mocked her for being mute, she'd curse them out on her behalf. The two of them were inseparable during that period, going everywhere together, and she even invited the girl to stay overnight at her home.
Just when everyone thought things were turning around, one day a call came from the school saying that Lin Qin had slapped that girl in the face.
Lin Zhengjun and Meng Yingnian went to the school to handle the matter and offer apologies on her behalf.
After bringing her home, they patiently tried to guide her into explaining why, but she only pressed her lips tightly together. Faced with the paper and pen on the table, she refused to write a single word.
Lin Zhengjun and Meng Yingnian kept sighing, consumed by self-blame. Behind closed doors, Lin Zhengjun suggested that they might indeed need to bring in a psychologist, but Meng Yingnian was firmly opposed, saying the child was sensitive—if she were told she had a problem, it would only make things worse.
Meng Jingnian happened to be there that day, listening to his sister and brother-in-law discuss the matter half the night without reaching a consensus.
As usual, he slept on the sofa that night, when he heard an extremely faint sound of a door closing—coming from the front door. It seemed to be the sound of someone turning the key in the lock, then gently releasing the latch.
He jolted awake and found Lin Qin's bedroom door open, the room empty.
The kid had gotten clever—she'd come out barefoot, without making a sound.
He was nearly scared out of his wits, scrambling up and rushing out after her.
The old building had no elevator, only stairs. He had no idea how a little kid could move so fast—he chased her all the way to the entrance of the compound before he spotted a lone figure across the street.
He was about to call out to stop her, but changed his mind and quietly followed behind, keeping a moderate distance.
She walked quickly, cutting through the park to the river, then trudging along the embankment with her head down.
Every so often along the embankment, there were stairways leading down to the riverbank below. Without hesitation, she climbed down one of them.
He immediately followed, hurrying down the stairs. From a distance, he heard the sound of extremely suppressed, anguished crying carried in the night wind.
On the pebble-strewn riverbank, a figure sat curled up with arms wrapped around herself, thin and trembling like a reed.
After hesitating for a long while, he walked over to her.
She looked up at him briefly, then buried her head deeper into her arms.
He said nothing, just sat down beside her with his knees drawn up, listening as her crying grew louder—as if she were releasing all the pain accumulated since her parents' death. At home, she didn't dare cry like this, afraid of worrying her aunt and uncle.
It went on for a long time before gradually subsiding into occasional hiccups.
It was freezing that night. At least she'd run out wearing her padded jacket, while he was only in a sweater, the cold wind pouring straight into his pant legs, making his voice tremble as he spoke: "…Want some McDonald's?"
She looked up at him with wet eyes, saying nothing.
He reached out, pulled her up from the ground in one motion, held her hand tightly, and led her back up the stairs to the embankment.
They walked for a long time before returning to a place with lights.
There was a McDonald's nearby, open 24 hours, but the late-night menu was limited—just burgers, fries, and Coke.
At one point he stepped away briefly, and when he came back, he was holding a softcover notebook and a ballpoint pen, bought from a nearby 24-hour convenience store.
He set the paper and pen aside without urging her to do anything.
Halfway through her fries, she picked up the notebook, gripped the pen, and wrote out, word by word, the reason she'd hit that girl:
The girl she'd hit was the new best friend she'd mentioned before. She'd told that girl everything, almost treating her as her only emotional refuge at the time. She'd written in her diary about her gratitude, with cringe-worthy hopes like "we'll be best friends forever"…
But later she found out the girl had passed her diary around among her friends, mocking the way she "threw herself" at people, and spread rumors that she looked like a proper little princess with good upbringing, but was actually crammed into a shabby rental with her aunt and uncle, and even gave guests worn-out old pajamas to wear…
She wrote indignantly: I don't understand—why, why did she twist my kindness like this? I invited her over because I liked her, and because she decided to stay overnight at the last minute, I gave her my pajamas. And they weren't old pajamas—what I gave her were brand new!
He couldn't help but feel pity, and said: Yiyi, it's because she's jealous. Before your parents' accident, you had excellent grades, were loved by your parents, and favored by your teachers. Only when you fell did she get the chance to look down on you—only by tearing you down to nothing could she feel like she was on equal footing with you.
She couldn't fully understand that kind of mentality back then, and only wrote: Can people really be that bad?
He said: Not everyone is that bad, but there are definitely people who are. This isn't your fault, Yiyi. Don't go looking for reasons within yourself.
Leaving McDonald's, they walked back through the park toward home.
Passing the swings, she stopped, walked over, and sat down.
Her feet flat on the ground, gripping the swing chains, she lowered her head and stayed still for a long time.
After what felt like an eternity, she suddenly let out an "ah!"—then kicked off with both legs, closed her eyes, and flung herself hard toward the sky.
After that, her mutism was cured.
But because she hadn't spoken for so long, it took a period of rehabilitation before she returned to a normal level of expression.
Later, on one of their walks, they passed by the riverbank again.
It was dusk that day, the wind strong, but there was still residual warmth from the sunlight.
She said: Maybe I'll never be able to make a completely trusting best friend again.
He said: Until then, I can be your best friend first—until you're brave enough to meet new ones.
The sound of Buddhist chanting faded into the distance, and the crowd seemed to recede into a hazy blur.
Lin Qin suddenly thought of that night, when Meng Jingnian had held her hand and led her from the dark riverbank back to the brightly lit place. His hand had been exceptionally warm the whole way.
She let out a soft breath. "You can't watch over me forever."
Meng Jingnian looked up, his lips slightly parted, but found himself unable to answer that.
From her tone to her expression, there was not a trace of resentment—rather, it was utterly calm, as if she were merely stating an obvious fact.