When Xie Tingchuan returned home, Sheng Jun and the others had already finished another round of gaming.
The moment he stepped through the door, Liu Hao’s sensitive sense of smell immediately picked up on something wrong.
Liu Hao: “Why do you smell like alcohol? Who was here just now?”
Pouring himself a glass of water and taking a few sips, Xie Tingchuan replied, “Downstairs neighbor. Got drunk and went to the wrong floor.”
“You walked him back?” Sheng Jun looked at Xie Tingchuan in curiosity. “Didn’t expect you to be this kind-hearted nowadays? I remember when I got drunk once, you made me sleep on the entryway mat all night.”
Sensing the thinly veiled attempt to sow discord in that remark, Xie Tingchuan glanced over at his older cousin Wang Huaijin, whose expression had darkened, and quickly defended himself. “That was summer. This is winter.”
“True, with weather this cold and snowing outside, freezing him up would be bad.”
“It’s snowing?” Hearing this, Xie Tingchuan glanced toward the window. Snowflakes were drifting endlessly down from the night sky, swirling in midair before blanketing the ground in a pure white sheet that looked remarkably scenic.
Snowing this heavily?
Ignoring Sheng Jun’s protests, Xie Tingchuan reached into his cousin’s pocket and fished out his own phone, offering a soothing explanation.
“I’ll transfer you some money.”
Sheng Jun’s eyes lit up instantly as he waved his hands right in front of Xie Tingchuan. “Fifty thousand!”
“Fine, transferred.” Tapping open the chat window for “Xiao Qinggan” and seeing the message she had just sent, Xie Tingchuan hurriedly stood up and strode toward his bedroom.
“You guys play amongst yourselves, don’t call me.”
Back in his bedroom, Xie Tingchuan eagerly clicked to play the voice message sent by “Xiao Qinggan.”
Xiao Qinggan: “It’s snowing, did you see?”
A smile bloomed across his face as Xie Tingchuan pressed the voice record button.
Xie Tingchuan: “I saw it. I was playing games with my cousins just now, so I didn’t notice the message.”
Waiting for a bit without receiving a reply, Xie Tingchuan tapped open the video sent by “Xiao Qinggan.”
Multihued fireworks intertwined across the night sky, while that sentence—“It’s snowing, did you see?”—echoed once more in his mind. A warm, cozy sensation washed over Xie Tingchuan, making him feel completely comfortable despite the winter chill.
Xie Tingchuan: “An’an, the snow is getting heavier. Are you back inside yet?”
Still, nobody replied.
Midnight had already arrived, yet Xie Tingchuan felt not a shred of sleepiness. He replayed the brief dozen-second fireworks video countless times.
Watching it over and over again with a smile curving his lips.
“Qing’an…”
Xie Tingchuan: !!?
Xie Tingchuan sat up straight in bed with a sudden jolt, wondering if his ears had played tricks on him. He replayed the video once more, turning the volume all the way up. That spoken word “Qing’an” stood out clearly amidst the background noise, falling into his ears once again.
Xie Tingchuan: !!!
Qing’an?
Xie Tingchuan’s first reaction pointed straight to the drunkard from downstairs: Lin Qing’an?
His second reaction was that he must have misheard, but after replaying it several times, every single version distinctly sounded like Qing’an.
Was the world really this small?
Belatedly, Xie Tingchuan opened a map app to search the location of the fireworks show: Baisha Embankment?
Baisha Embankment, which was only a twenty-minute drive away?
Xie Tingchuan wanted to punch his mattress in bitter regret such a wonderful opportunity to meet in person had just slipped right through his fingers.
He was just a hair’s breadth away from meeting An’an face-to-face.
Did An’an know he was nearby? Did she go to Baisha Embankment secretly hoping to meet up in person?
Dammit all, how could he have failed to guess An’an’s intentions, wasting such a golden opportunity?
Yet, no matter how much Xie Tingchuan beat himself up over his regret, the moment had already passed; he could only bide his time and wait for the next chance.
In the early morning, the internal biological clock woke Lin Qing’an up from his slumber. Before he even opened his eyes, he caught a whiff of harsh, unpleasant stale alcohol.
Wrinkling his nose in distaste, Lin Qing’an noticed that the room usually bathed in bright morning light by this hour was still rather dim. Reaching out to turn on the bedside lamp, a sudden wave of soreness shot through his left arm.
“What’s going on?”
Frowning in confusion, Lin Qing’an got up and stripped off his shirt, only to discover a clear, distinct grip mark bruised onto his left upper arm, deepening his bewilderment.
Did I get into a fistfight with someone yesterday?
Try as he might, Lin Qing’an couldn’t dredge up any memories of it. Instead, the alcohol hangover triggered a dull, throbbing ache behind his temples, forcing him to abandon the thought.
After washing up, Lin Qing’an grabbed a slice of bread to bite on, scooped up his study materials, and bolted out the door. If he didn’t hurry, he was going to be late for class.
Ping. The elevator doors slid open. Lin Qing’an cast a cold glance at Xie Tingchuan inside the car, marched straight in, and hit the close button.
Xie Tingchuan looked at Lin Qing’an’s icy, expressionless demeanor and felt entirely speechless. Well, well! Yesterday’s whining, clingy Lin Qing’an who practically begged to be friends had vanished completely!
Yet, having a favor to ask today, Xie Tingchuan had no choice but to break the ice first.
“Did you go to Baisha Embankment to watch the fireworks show yesterday?”
Lin Qing’an’s eyelids fluttered twice as he turned his head to look at him. “Went. Stayed for a bit, felt bored, so I left.”
“Then did you happen to see a girl? About shoulder-height, super cute?” Xie Tingchuan said, holding up his phone to show his lock screen wallpaper to Lin Qing’an.
“It’s her, did you see her?”
The familiar features, the familiar outfit, the familiar posture, Lin Qing’an’s pupils contracted violently, his body instinctively taking a half-step back as he braced his hand against the stainless steel elevator railing behind him.
Turning his head away to stare fixedly at the descending floor numbers, Lin Qing’an replied in a flat, crisp tone. “Didn’t notice. There were too many people.”
After that, the conversation hit a dead end.
Out of the corner of his eye, Lin Qing’an caught sight of a silent Xie Tingchuan, who actually looked somewhat dejected.
What’s he depressed about?
Depressed that he didn’t get to meet “Xiao Qinggan”?
Lin Qing’an snorted inwardly. If you really did meet her, you’d probably be even more upset.
The elevator arrived at the ground floor in a flash. Lin Qing’an strode out, breaking into a full sprint all the way until he managed to slide into the lecture hall just before class began.
Panting heavily as he dropped into his seat, Lin Qing’an flashed a reassuring smile at Qin Zhiyi, who was looking at him with worried concern.
“I’m fine, just didn’t wash up properly last night and woke up choking on my own hangover fumes.”
Qin Zhiyi smiled back. “As long as you’re okay.”
Nodding, Lin Qing’an opened his textbook and prepared to skim the pages. A casual glance sideways caught an unmistakable crimson flush creeping up the back of Qin Zhiyi’s earlobes. Tracing the line downward past his gray scarf, he spotted several faint red marks peeking out from beneath the fabric, not entirely concealed.
Noticing Lin Qing’an’s gaze, Qin Zhiyi awkwardly adjusted his scarf to cover them up.
That adjustment only revealed even more of the densely scattered red marks, and even as his collar shifted with his casual movements, similar crimson traces faintly surfaced near his neckline.
“Zhiyi, did you have an allergic reaction?”
Duan Xuan burst out laughing at the question, burying his face directly against the desktop as he shook with silent laughter (hahaha), drawing quite a few curious stares across the otherwise quiet classroom.
Qin Zhiyi offered an embarrassed smile, pulling his scarf higher to blanket the marks completely.
“It’s a bit of an allergy, already took some medicine for it.”
Hearing that he had taken medicine, Lin Qing’an relaxed, nodded, and asked, “Zhiyi, what are you allergic to? I’ll make sure to watch out for it next time.”
“I pet a golden retriever last night, and my skin started breaking out in hives shortly after. I must be allergic to dogs.”
“You’re allergic to dogs?” Lin Qing’an blinked in surprise. “If I remember right, didn’t you work part-time at a pet shop during freshman year…?”
Stammering and tripping over his words, Qin Zhiyi struggled to formulate a response before finally settling on a vague excuse. “My allergies just developed out of nowhere recently.”
Fortunately, the professor stepped into the lecture hall at that exact moment. Seizing the opportunity, Qin Zhiyi flashed a relieved smile and said, “Class is starting.”
Lin Qing’an straightened up instantly, pulling himself together with strict discipline. Ever since he found out that this strict Professor Gao was an old college classmate of his uncle’s, Lin Qing’an took his coursework for this class twice as seriously.
He refused to let a poor performance in any aspect negatively skew Professor Gao’s impression of his uncle.
After all, his uncle was so brilliant, and as his nephew, Lin Qing’an could only strive to be even more outstanding.
A long lecture later, not only were the students exhausted, but the professor looked thoroughly drained as well. Lin Qing’an slumped face-first against his desk, watching the professor pack up and depart.
Suddenly, he saw Professor Gao glance back and offer him a light smile.
The sight made Lin Qing’an bolt upright in sheer panic. What was that supposed to mean?
What did that smile mean?!
Did I mess up somewhere again?
Surely not.
Before he could puzzle out Professor Gao’s cryptic expression, Qin Zhiyi pulled him away to rush toward their next class.
Damn it! After the New Year’s holiday, his schedule should have entered a relaxing downtime, so why on earth was today packed solidly from morning to night?
And there was even a night study session scheduled!
How on earth can college students be subjected to night classes?!
Lin Qing’an wanted to rebel, but rebellion was futile.
Unluckily, their next lecture was held in a massive auditorium located quite a distance away. The three of them sprinted the entire way, only to arrive and find the lecture hall already packed tight with students. With barely any seats left let alone three together, Lin Qing’an and his friends had no choice but to split up.
Lin Qing’an grabbed a seat in the very front row near the side door and window. It was a terrible spot: sitting at an oblique angle to the blackboard, while the professor teaching this session notoriously preferred lecturing with his back turned toward the door-side rows.
Consequently, for the entire duration of the lecture, Lin Qing’an found himself staring exclusively at the professor’s back.
Fortunately, Lin Qing’an had already previewed all the course material ahead of time, and this particular instructor specialized in reading straight off PowerPoint slides—offering zero educational value beyond textbook summaries.
Aside from listening to the teacher’s occasional gossip, that is.
Midway through his lecture, the professor let out a heavy sigh and remarked, “My wife, you see…”
Rolling his eyes in quiet defeat, Lin Qing’an lowered his head, uninterested.
Pulling his phone from his pocket, he switched it to silent mode and used his textbook as a shield to browse unhindered. The instructor possessed a rare self-awareness, knowing his own lectures lacked substance, so he didn’t police classroom discipline too strictly.
Unless he was dishing out juicy gossip, fewer than half the students in the room even bothered lifting their heads.
Yet his storytelling delivery was genuinely top-tier, packed with dramatic cadence and inflection, which successfully kept the hall filled with bodies.
Lin Qing’an glanced down at a text message sent by Xie Tingchuan earlier that morning at 7:00 AM.
Xie Tingchuan: “Good morning. It snowed last night, so bundle up warmly today. Remember to wear anti-slip shoes and watch out for the slippery pavement.”
Sinking half his face into his desk, Lin Qing’an tapped out his reply beneath the cover of his book.
Xiao Qinggan: “I drank alcohol yesterday, my head still hurts a bit, and I had to rush here for an early morning lecture. I’m so exhausted, so sleepy, and so miserable.”
Xie Tingchuan: “An’an baby, are you at school right now?”
Xie Tingchuan: “If you’re feeling unwell, ask your counselor for a leave of absence and go home to rest. Don’t push yourself through it. Make yourself a cup of honey water when you get back, it’ll make you feel better.”
Xie Tingchuan: “An’an baby, where do you live? I’ll come take care of you.”
True to form, it was another lightning-fast reply. Lin Qing’an sighed softly, Xie Tingchuan, oh Xie Tingchuan, do you have nothing else to care about all day long besides staring at your phone waiting for messages?
He tapped on a sticker and sent it over.
Xiao Qinggan: [Hug and spin around GIF]
Scrolling up to check their previous chat history, Lin Qing’an noticed the message he had sent yesterday evening had sat unanswered for a full two hours before receiving a reply.
That marked the very first time Xie Tingchuan had delayed responding to “Xiao Qinggan” for so long since they officially defined their relationship.
Lin Qing’an pressed his lips into a tight line. Remembering the bitter, hollow ache of being ignored yesterday evening, that lingering sourness still tugged softly at his heartstrings.
Buzz.
Xie Tingchuan: [Kiss emoji]
Lin Qing’an burst out laughing, his fingers tapping away at the keyboard with a newfound spring of lighthearted joy.
Xiao Qinggan: “I’m only a little under the weather. Once class is over, I’ll go get a hot bowl of soup and I’ll be fine.”
After hitting send, Lin Qing’an thought with a content smile: As expected, I just can’t stand being ignored.