The next day.
The sky was heavy and overcast.
Before heading out to the coffee shop, Shen Yuan made a point of checking the weather forecast on her phone.
Light rain turning to moderate rain.
She slipped on her shoes and stood at the entrance, her gaze landing on the black folding umbrella.
It was Xu Anran’s umbrella.
There was a noticeable scuff mark along the edge of the handle.
It was from when he used to deliver food and had fallen off his bike on a rainy, slippery road.
The original owner of this body had absolutely despised this umbrella.
She thought it was too old.
She thought it wasn’t presentable enough.
She’d even made a fuss at the door, telling Xu Anran to just throw it away and buy a new one.
What had Xu Anran said back then?
He didn’t buy a new one.
He only said, “It still works.”
Shen Yuan reached out, picked up the umbrella, and weighed it in her hand.
Now, she found that statement quite philosophical.
If it works, use it.
Just like people—if you can survive, you keep going.
She tucked the old umbrella into her canvas bag and pushed open the door, heading downstairs.
The afternoon at the coffee shop was busier than yesterday.
People working in office buildings on rainy days seemed to share a strange commonality—they didn’t want to be at work, but they needed coffee to survive.
Especially those who’d just been battered by meetings; they basically treated coffee as their emotional crutch.
The orders—both delivery and dine-in—barely let up.
Shen Yuan stood behind the counter, the wound on her heel throbbing faintly.
But she didn’t stop.
“Two iced Americanos.”
“Iced latte, less ice, with oat milk.”
“Hot cocoa with an extra shot of cream.”
“Hazelnut latte, to go.”
Shen Yuan smoothly took orders, made drinks, and packed them up.
She was much more adapted today than yesterday.
She still couldn’t match Linda’s ability to curse people out while cranking out drinks at lightning speed, but at least she hadn’t turned the milk foam into a tidal wave scene again.
And she hadn’t burned herself on the espresso machine either.
Zhou Ning squeezed over during a lull and handed her a paper towel.
“Shen Yuan, you’re improving way too fast.”
Shen Yuan took the towel and wiped the water off her hands.
“People who’ve been beaten up by life learn things quickly.”
Zhou Ning nodded seriously.
“Got it. Life is the best teacher.”
Shen Yuan snapped the lid onto a cup and pushed it onto the pickup counter.
“But it doesn’t issue a teaching certificate.”
Zhou Ning burst out laughing, nearly sticking a delivery label on crooked.
Linda didn’t even look up, her voice flat.
“Keep chatting, and the life teacher will make you both stay late for overtime.”
They both shut up instantly.
Six in the evening.
The rain finally came down.
At first, it was just fine threads of rain.
Tapping against the glass windows with a soft patter.
Half an hour later, the rain suddenly intensified.
Pedestrians on the street scrambled for cover under awnings, looking thoroughly disheveled.
Puddles on the road were splashed by passing cars, sending up gray-white spray.
Shen Yuan stood by the window, wiping down a table with a rag.
Her gaze drifted past the glass to the street outside.
A few delivery riders in their uniforms weaved through the rain.
Yellow and blue raincoats billowed, puffed up by the wind.
Shen Yuan’s hand paused.
She thought of Xu Anran.
He was definitely out taking orders today.
In rain this heavy, riding was dangerous, and visibility would be poor.
The original owner had never cared about any of that.
When it rained, she’d just call him, urging him to come home early and cook.
Or complain that the delivery was too slow and ruining her mood.
Shen Yuan stared at the rain outside, lost in thought.
Zhou Ning followed her gaze, then nudged her arm.
“What are you looking at? Worried about someone?”
Shen Yuan snapped back to attention.
“Nothing.”
Zhou Ning squinted, her face clearly unconvinced.
“That expression of yours says otherwise. It’s practically screaming, ‘My other half is out there slaving away in the rain, and I feel a twinge of guilt.'”
Shen Yuan was speechless.
Were young women these days really this terrifyingly perceptive?
She lowered her head and continued scrubbing the table with extra force.
“You’re overthinking it.”
Zhou Ning dragged out her response.
“Ooooh—”
Shen Yuan didn’t bother to explain further.
Some things only got murkier the more you tried to clarify them.
Eight o’clock in the evening.
The rain had grown even heavier.
The restaurant had few customers left, so the rush hour ended early.
Linda glanced at the torrential downpour outside the door, then turned to look at them.
“It’s raining too hard today. Those without umbrellas can leave early.”
Zhou Ning immediately threw up her hands in celebration.
“Long live Sister Linda!”
Linda’s tone remained utterly flat.
“Pay will be calculated by actual hours worked.”
Zhou Ning lowered her hands and let out a sigh.
“Sister Linda is mighty, but also painfully realistic.”
Shen Yuan walked over to the storage lockers and took out her bag.
Her fingers brushed against the black umbrella.
Her movements paused for a moment.
Xu Anran often passed by the delivery station near Nantong Road when he was out running orders at night.
She didn’t know if he’d be there today.
Nor did she know if bringing the umbrella over would just annoy him again.
Whether he’d take it as another calculated act, some kind of performance with ulterior motives.
Shen Yuan stood at the entrance of the restaurant, staring out at the heavy rain.
Go, or not go?
If she went, it would look like she was meddling in his business.
If she didn’t, he’d most likely end up soaked.
Delivery riders couldn’t hold an umbrella while riding in the rain—they could only wear rain gear.
But in a downpour like this, rain gear was useless. They’d still end up drenched from head to toe.
Shen Yuan closed her eyes briefly.
Forget it.
I’ll drop it off and leave.
No unnecessary words.
No expectation of a response.
Consider it repaying him a little for taking me in.
She turned and sent Zhou Ning a WeChat message saying “I’m heading out first,” then opened the old black umbrella and stepped into the rain.
The delivery station was at the entrance of an alley two streets away.
The rain was fierce.
It pounded against the umbrella’s surface with a dull, heavy sound.
Water on the roadside had already risen past her ankles.
Shen Yuan’s shoes were soaked through in no time.
Icy water flooded into them, seeping into the raw wound on her heel.
A piercing, bone-deep ache shot through her.
She gritted her teeth and trudged forward, stepping through puddles with every stride.
Ten minutes later.
Shen Yuan finally arrived at the delivery station.
It was a shabby overhang.
A few riders were huddled beneath it, smoking and complaining.
“This rain’s coming down like the sky’s got a hole in it.”
“Every order’s blown up. Late fees are eating me alive. It’s insane.”
“Brothers, I don’t know who’s getting lucky tonight, but I’m about to lose my own skin out here.”
Shen Yuan stood at the mouth of the alley, scanning the crowd.
Xu Anran wasn’t there.
She pressed her lips together and was about to turn and leave.
Just then, an electric scooter rounded the corner from the street.
Its headlight cut through the rain, casting a harsh beam of light.
The scooter pulled up directly under the overhang.
Xu Anran swung his leg off the bike and pulled off his helmet.
He was completely drenched.
His hair was plastered to his forehead, water droplets streaming down the line of his jaw.
The yellow delivery uniform clung tightly to his body, dripping water.
His face was paler than usual, and colder too.
Shen Yuan’s chest tightened for no reason she could name.
Her fingers curled slightly around the umbrella handle, and she walked toward him.
Xu Anran shook the water from his hair, and as he looked up, he caught sight of Shen Yuan approaching.
His movements froze mid-air.
His gaze shifted several times in an instant.
First, surprise.
Then, the scene from last night at the coffee shop entrance flooded back into his mind, uncontrollably.
She was smiling at that man in the white shirt.
She was wearing a pair of ill-fitting slippers.
She was in a hurry to repay the money.
Xu Anran’s gaze turned completely cold, a layer of ice forming in his eyes.
“What are you doing here?”