Li Jiajia finally got a day off, sleeping in at home as payback.
He Qi didn’t disturb her, made herself lunch, and in the afternoon received an email from Echo Publishing—one manuscript passed initial review, another was rejected.
She gradually got used to this life of waiting on submissions, her mood steady. She dug out the emails from other publishers she had organized earlier; for those rejected, she didn’t revise, just submitted them to the next publisher as-is.
As the saying goes, don’t put all your eggs in one basket.
She had a few unfinished stories in her documents, and took advantage of her free time to complete them bit by bit.
Li Jiajia’s nap was long—she didn’t wake until just before 3 PM. He Qi, having just finished submitting her manuscript, set her laptop aside and smiled at Li Jiajia’s groggy appearance: “Hungry?”
“No,” Li Jiajia shook her head, almost losing balance, holding the wall. “In an hour or two, after I clean up, we’ll go to North Alley Tavern. Their noodles are delicious.”
He Qi agreed: “Okay.”
Before dinner, the two went back to their rooms to change; He Qi was quicker, waiting in the living room.
When Li Jiajia came out, she seemed to be on a call, handing He Qi a scarf while cursing into her phone: “North Alley Tavern, navigate yourself. Don’t expect me to pick you up. I’m not driving. If you keep whining, I’ll tell your mom!”
He Qi recognized that Li Jiajia was bickering with Li Leyi, and laughed helplessly. She opened her phone after leaving: “I’ll take a cab first.”
Li Jiajia pressed her hand down, experienced: “Wait until you’re out of the community. Otherwise the driver will come too fast, constantly hurrying you.”
He Qi nodded and linked arms with her down the stairs.
Unexpectedly, at the community gate, Chen Jin appeared before the ride-share could arrive.
He Qi caught the figure from the corner of her eye, stiffened, quickly paid for a ride, thinking this man was way too idle lately—weekends not working from home, nights not staying at the office, always running here to annoy people.
Chen Jin, standing where she had left him, lowered his eyes: “Where are you going? I’ll give you a ride.”
He Qi looked down at her phone and didn’t answer. Li Jiajia stood to the side, glancing back and forth, afraid to speak.
The atmosphere turned awkward. Chen Jin, seemingly unaware, just stood there staring at He Qi.
Luckily, Li Jiajia wasn’t wrong—the ride-share was fast. In seconds, it showed the driver had arrived. He Qi turned off her phone screen, looked straight ahead, and pulled Li Jiajia around Chen Jin: “The car’s here, let’s go.”
Li Jiajia, dragged forward, didn’t dare look back, gripping He Qi’s hand tighter.
They got into the backseat of the ride-share. He Qi kept her face cold, glanced at the rearview mirror, and saw the black Cayenne not too far behind, her expression darkening further.
The car’s blasting DJ music made everyone uneasy, and the driver sang off-key along.
Li Jiajia leaned against the window, feeling guilty. After all, she had been the one to reveal their plan to go drinking, and she didn’t know if her advice yesterday had been wise.
She felt helpless, thinking that if these two continued to bicker like this, even she might develop a fear of love and marriage.
The car slowly merged onto the overpass—rush hour traffic was packed. Their destination, a small tavern, was remote, taking nearly an hour to arrive.
As they got out, the Cayenne parked near the tavern, but the driver didn’t seem to have plans to get out.
He Qi glanced casually, then turned her attention back to Li Jiajia as they entered the tavern.
“Cousin!” Li Leyi, having arrived a few minutes earlier, spotted them at the bar and enthusiastically came over.
Li Jiajia raised a finger in warning: “Don’t give me that, did my noodles get served yet?”
“Ordered, ordered!” Li Leyi nodded rapidly like a little drum, playing the obedient sidekick as he led the two of them to their seats. “Got something for you and Qiqi-sister!”
Fang Yi had been leaning against the seat scrolling on his phone. Hearing the noise, he lifted his eyes, the glow from the screen illuminating half his face. His normally vacant eyes brightened with a clear, gentle smile when he saw He Qi.
“Sister.” He looked straight at her, his voice soft and delicate.
He Qi nodded and glanced down at the table. Two bowls of the restaurant’s signature beef noodles, some side dishes, a dozen beers, two rows of shots, and a cup of custom cocktail already half drunk.
Li Jiajia, starving, plopped down in her seat, swept her long hair behind her shoulders, and dug in, slurping noodles heartily like they were eating at a roadside stall.
The table was fairly close to the stage where the resident singer performed. With four seats, He Qi ended up across from Fang Yi, sitting next to Li Jiajia.
Li Leyi casually carried back two drinks at this point, pushing one toward Li Jiajia and one to He Qi, his cheeks flushed with excitement. “Sis, the bartender here is hilarious.”
Li Jiajia gave him a deadpan glance, ignored him, and went back to her noodles.
He Qi draped her scarf over her lap, not very hungry, and picked up the drink, surveying the surroundings as she slowly sipped.
Li Leyi was lively by nature; with him around, the atmosphere couldn’t be dull. He suggested a few drinking games for everyone, and naturally, He Qi and Fang Yi agreed. Li Jiajia was reluctant but still played along.
The singer on stage held a guitar, his hoarse, magnetic voice constantly receiving song requests from patrons.
Music and chatter blended into a blur in He Qi’s ears; she was clearly distracted, messing up repeatedly in the games, and had already been punished with several drinks.
“Qiqi-sister, it’s you again!” Li Leyi laughed uproariously, pointing at He Qi, who looked utterly confused. “Sis, are you a game black hole?!”
His loud voice snapped He Qi back to reality. She looked down at her fingers showing numbers, shaking her head helplessly.
As He Qi reached for a tequila shot, the background music transitioned into a light, flowing interlude, and the singer lifted the microphone to his lips.
It was a familiar segment from Karen Mok’s song Rainy Day, well-known and often sung along to. Many patrons joined in, including Li Leyi, softly humming the lyrics.
“Recalling that day, the noisy wedding feast…”
“What played in our ears—overture or finale?”
“Love is just mutual consent, better to balance love and hate, so no debts remain.”
He Qi’s thoughts drifted unexpectedly; her hand hovered in mid-air for a moment.
Fang Yi noticed her distraction and lightly tapped the back of her hand with his fingertip. “Sister?”
Li Leyi was completely immersed in the song, adding extra emotion along with the lyrics, singing surprisingly well.
“Love, after all, one breaks free, the other picks up the pieces.”
“Men need not justify themselves, women need not be pitiful.”
Feeling the light touch on her hand, He Qi instinctively clenched it into a fist, paused for two seconds, grabbed a drink, and tilted her head back to swallow.
The liquid burned fiercely down her throat; there was no salt or lime, just an intense, scalding heat.
Her features contorted as she suddenly stood up, the chair scraping back slightly.
The other three looked up in confusion. He Qi placed her scarf on the chair and stared blankly ahead, not looking at anyone. “I’m going out for some air.”
She turned and strode out.
The tequila’s fire raced from her throat to her stomach; it felt as if all the oxygen in her body had been burned away. Only when the cold wind hit her face outside did she feel she could finally breathe.
The sky was fully dark, and the streetlights and shop lights illuminated the night.
Chen Jin stood under a streetlamp about five meters away, smoking.
It was the first time He Qi had ever seen him smoke.
His right hand hung naturally by his side, index and middle fingers slightly curled, holding the cigarette like a flickering spark.
His lips parted slightly, and smoke curled out, seemingly taking something with it from his body.
The moment he saw He Qi, it all froze.
Chen Jin closed his lips, crushed the cigarette in his right hand, tossed it into a nearby trash can, and strode the five meters to her.
Perhaps due to the alcohol, He Qi’s thoughts felt sluggish. She watched Chen Jin approaching, without thinking to step aside or speak.
She only wondered: Did Chen Jin start smoking recently? Or had he been doing it for a long time, just never in front of her? If he’d been smoking for a while, when did he learn—college? Work? Or before they even met?
These questions swirled in her alcohol-laden stomach, unspoken.
He Qi wasn’t sure if she was drunk; her mind was clear, but her movements stiff, and her gaze lingered on Chen Jin without shifting.
She silently studied the man in front of her, recalling distant classroom knowledge: alcohol depresses the central nervous system, affecting cortical and medulla function, causing excitation or inhibition…
She could remember no more, judging herself under a suppressed, lazy, habitual state.
Her eyelids blinked slowly; the alcohol’s effect grew stronger. She asked Chen Jin, “What’s wrong with you?”
Earlier, at the community gate, she hadn’t even glanced at him. Now, noticing his exhaustion, she realized his face looked unusually haggard.
Chen Jin’s eyes were faintly bloodshot. Finally able to speak to He Qi, his first reaction wasn’t an answer but: “Drunk? I’ll take you back.”
The cold wind blew. He Qi shrank her chin into her collar, a gesture of refusal.
She glanced back at the bar, contemplating whether to return, when her wrist was suddenly grabbed. Chen Jin’s low, husky voice answered her earlier question: “Not feeling well.”
He leaned close; the heat emanating from his body contrasted with the cold. He Qi instinctively lifted her hand to his forehead—it was hot.
“Fever,” she frowned. “Go to the hospital.”
Li Jiajia, having waited too long for He Qi, came out, worried. Just stepping outside, she saw this scene: the two were close, He Qi even touching Chen Jin’s forehead.
She froze, about to pretend she saw nothing, but someone else darted out beside her—she didn’t have time to stop them.
“Sister.” Fang Yi stood a short distance away, calm expression, eyes cold, holding tightly onto a scarf.
He Qi withdrew her hand and saw Fang Yi smiling faintly. He approached, navigating through several gazes, handing over the scarf. “It’s windy outside. Standing long might make you sick.”
Before He Qi could react, a pair of hands from behind her took the scarf without permission.
Chen Jin leaned even closer to her, upper body nearly pressing against her back, eyeing the scarf in his hand, unfamiliar. “Is this yours?”
“Li Jiajia’s,” He Qi replied instinctively.
As she spoke, a shock ran through her—this habitual familiarity hit her like a jolt.
She looked up at the stiff-faced Fang Yi, while Chen Jin behind her remained calm and content.
Li Jiajia, having observed the scene for a while, finally sensed something was off. She jumped out, clearing her throat to draw attention: “Well, I’m stepping out for air too, it’s stuffy in there…”
The air fell silent for three awkward seconds. Li Jiajia shot He Qi a desperate, pleading glance.
He Qi had just opened her mouth when Chen Jin’s voice murmured in her ear: “Not feeling well.”
The scalding heat from his body sprayed over her ear; she shivered, stepping back to study him, finding his behavior odd.
You must be losing your mind.
“Then go to the hospital yourself,” He Qi warned.
Chen Jin’s eyes flickered with petulance and grievance. Firmly, he said: “Not going.”
He Qi stared, baffled.
Her temper flared at his stubborn refusal. She glared at him fiercely: “Fine, then don’t go. Who cares about you.”
Li Jiajia, who had come out to ease the tension, looked completely lost. What are they doing—arguing like elementary school kids? Why is Chen Jin like that, and why is He Qi like this?
She looked to Fang Yi and noticed his face was very grim.
“I can drive.” Fang Yi finally spoke through his frown. When He Qi looked over, he forced a small smile. “I’ll go with you to the hospital.”
Li Jiajia’s jaw dropped, her mouth twitching. What kind of plot is this? She muttered, “I can go, or we can send Li Leyi.”
What nonsense.
He Qi felt utterly exasperated. Seeing the stubborn “not going” in Chen Jin’s eyes made her blood boil.
Does he think he’s a rebellious teenager? Even going to the hospital when sick needs to be coaxed?
Chen Jin’s cheeks were faintly flushed, and when the wind blew, he turned his face aside, coughing lightly.
He looked genuinely ill.
Her stomach and heart burned together; the faint cough felt contagious, brushing her throat like a feather—subtle but impossible to ignore.
How much longer was this person going to stand outside in this state?
Finally, He Qi closed her eyes and made a decision. “I’ll go.”
She looked at Li Jiajia as she spoke. “I’ll come back later.”
Li Jiajia nodded blankly, opening her mouth twice as if to say something but stopping, her gaze shifting from He Qi to Chen Jin’s face, then back to He Qi. She could only say gently, “Call me if anything happens.”
He Qi nodded, her expression softening slightly as she met the eyes of Fang Yi beside her. Facing this stubborn boy who insisted on giving her the scarf, she didn’t know what to show.
She pressed her lips into a thin line, choosing to return his concern quietly. “Go back. It’s windy outside.”
Fang Yi’s expression visibly drooped; his gaze fell, uninterested, as if he still had something to say.
However—
“Hey, what are you guys doing?” Li Leyi, holding a bowl of beef noodles, appeared at the doorway and interrupted the scene. He was slurping the hot soup while his wide eyes roamed around, speaking with a mouthful of noodles, “I saw you hadn’t come back for a while, so I finished this second bowl myself.”
Only then did he notice the unfamiliar man behind He Qi, and curiosity lit up his face.
Tall, handsome, with good manners—he didn’t look like someone without money, and seemed to have an unusual relationship with Qi Jie.
Li Leyi had his guesses, but since he wasn’t close enough to He Qi, he asked cautiously, “Who’s this handsome guy?”
A good question.
And at this moment, besides He Qi, no one dared answer it.
Everyone’s eyes naturally fell on her. He Qi cleared her throat nervously, deflecting: “A sick person.”
Before Li Leyi could ask again, she quickly urged the three back inside. “You guys coming out like this—our boss might think we’re skipping out on payment.”
Li Leyi didn’t catch the hint and, unable to resist, sneaked between Li Jiajia and Fang Yi, whispering with intrigue: “Who’s that? Qi Jie’s boyfriend?”
He looked left at Fang Yi—Fang Yi frowned and ignored him, keeping a cold, distant attitude.
He looked right at Li Jiajia—Li Jiajia smacked the back of his head. “I said a sick person! Are you deaf? And who told you to eat my noodles?”
Unable to get an answer, Li Leyi grew even more curious, glancing back again, but He Qi had already walked away with the mysterious man.