No, not just him.
Following Tian Chi's gaze, Huan'er spotted the person emerging from the library entrance. The steps were long, and with her head lowered, she hadn't noticed them yet.
"Huan'er," Tian Chi called out her name while stepping forward.
Instinctively, Huan'er retreated, stumbling backward until her back collided with Jing Qichi's chest.
She turned to look at him, anxiety and unease written plainly across her face.
Tian Chi said, "Haven't seen you around lately. What have you been up to?"
He was actually making small talk.
Surrounded by passing students, Huan'er clung to rationality and glared at him fiercely before turning to leave.
But it was too late. The person on the steps had descended. As if declaring ownership, she linked arms with Tian Chi and greeted Huan'er with a "Hi."
She should have felt blood rushing to her head. She should have cursed and called them trash. But Chen Huan'er realized that aside from anger, she actually—actually felt a faint, lingering ache.
Pathetic.
"Let's go," Jing Qichi nudged the stunned girl.
Huan'er nodded and brushed past them.
After a few steps, she heard a female voice ask, "What's she doing here?"
Why can't I be here?
Like a spark thrown into a gasoline tank, Chen Huan'er's fury erupted with a "boom." Biting her lower lip, she was about to charge forward when Jing Qichi swiftly blocked her path. "Hold on," he said.
The two a meter away stopped and turned.
"Our Chen Huan'er can be wherever she wants," Jing Qichi narrowed his eyes. "If you don't like it, piss off."
Tian Chi visibly stiffened before pointing a finger at Jing Qichi's nose. "Watch your mouth."
"I said piss off," Jing Qichi enunciated each word. He wanted to grab Huan'er and leave, but with a pear in each hand, he had no free space. So he simply stuck one in his mouth, freeing his left hand to grab Huan'er's right, dragging her away from the scene.
After some distance, he couldn't hold back a cough and had to stop, releasing her hand. The moment the pear left his mouth, tears nearly burst from his coughing fit.
Huan'er patted his chest. "Serves you right for butting in."
"You and your damn pears," Jing Qichi grumbled, using the two fruits to squish her face. "Such a nuisance, taking up all the space."
Huan'er's face was squished out of shape. She retaliated by tickling him. "That hurts!"
Jing Qichi stopped, then stuck the pear back in his mouth, freeing a hand to smooth her hair.
"Those might have pesticides," Huan'er let him fuss, grinning foolishly at him.
"Too late now," Jing Qichi took a bite—juicy and sweet. Pear juice dribbled down his chin, and Huan'er reached up to wipe it.
"Remember when I first transferred schools?" Huan'er gazed at him intently. "When people spread rumors about me and Song Cong, you stood up for me then too." She paused. "Qi Chi, whether back then or just now, I could've handled it myself. You can't always be by my side."
Jing Qichi swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Why not?"
Huan'er froze, momentarily confused by the question.
He stared at her steadily, repeating softly, "Why not?"
Locked in his gaze, Chen Huan'er faltered. She lowered her head. "Right now... I can't think about this."
She had just gone through a breakup—this wasn't the right time.
Jing Qichi fell silent.
Huan'er looked up again. "At this moment, whatever decision I make wouldn't be fair to you—or to me."It wasn't that hesitant phone call, nor the wild guesses after the freshman football match. Their third attempt at understanding each other was an open and honest conversation. One made a proposal, the other answered truthfully—no evasion, complete mutual understanding. Time had taught them to face their hearts, and through one mediation after another, their trust in each other had grown stronger. Surely you can understand this candid version of me right now, right?
"Then let's wait until after this time," Jing Qichi whispered hoarsely near her ear. "When you have your answer."
On the second day of the National Day holiday, Song Cong and Qi Qi arrived, each with a backpack, looking every bit the budget travelers. Jing Qichi was busy preparing for an entrepreneurship competition as the main team member and couldn't get away, so Huan'er played host that day, treating the guests who had come from afar.
Dinner was pleasant enough. They discussed their travel plans and agreed to spend a day touring the campus, with Huan'er recommending some restaurants and cafes she liked. Both travelers were visibly exhausted from the long journey, and the meal ended before 8 p.m. Seeing that Song Cong had booked a homestay nearby, Huan'er offered to walk them there before returning to school.
The three arrived early at the accommodation, chatting and laughing as they waited. But the landlord didn't show up. Song Cong called, and after apologizing, the landlord said he was stuck in traffic and would be late. Twenty minutes later, another call—the landlord claimed to be at the intersection and would arrive soon. Another fifteen minutes passed, and on the third call, he said he was parking and would be right there.
By then, Qi Qi's displeasure was written all over her face. She muttered under her breath, "I told you we should've booked a hotel."
The homestay required a key handover, and without the landlord, they couldn't get in.
"Let's wait a bit longer," Song Cong said, offering no further explanation.
"Our trip here was the same," Qi Qi whispered to Huan'er. "A direct flight would've been fast and easy, but he insisted on taking the high-speed train. Kids crying, people arguing—couldn't sleep a wink for hours."
Huan'er quickly smoothed things over. "It's Golden Week. You're lucky you even got train tickets. Qi Chi and I once took hard seats home—felt like our backsides were falling apart."
"We could've gotten plane tickets too..."
As Qi Qi spoke, a young man in sportswear came jogging up, apologizing profusely before he even reached them. "So sorry, man. Traffic was terrible, then I hit a detour and a roadblock from an accident. Really, really sorry."
Before Song Cong could respond, Qi Qi urged, "Hurry up, we're exhausted."
"Right, right." Noticing the guests were a couple, the landlord added as he led the way, "I'll give you two movie tickets later as an apology."
The neighborhood was older but still pleasant. A five-minute walk from the entrance brought them to the unit, and the homestay was on the seventh floor. A one-bedroom apartment, small but clearly renovated, with brand-new furniture and decor. The landlord briefly explained the appliances and check-out process before leaving with another round of apologetic bows.
Qi Qi wore contact lenses, and after a long day, her eyes were unbearably dry. Excusing herself, she headed to the bathroom. It was clear to everyone that the wait had put her in a bad mood. Song Cong set down his backpack and gave Huan'er a wry smile. "Alright, I'll walk you down."
"No need, this is my turf." Huan'er waved him off. "See you later. Call me."
Just then, a voice came from the bathroom. "Song Cong, come here quick. Look at this—what is all this?""What's wrong?" Song Cong said as he walked inside, with Huan'er hesitating for a moment before following.
"Look at this shampoo and shower gel, what a mess." Qi Qi stood in front of the sink and pointed casually. "The labels are handwritten—who would dare use them?"
The bottles filled with milky liquid were clearly refill containers, with handwritten labels taped to them.
Song Cong rubbed his temples. "Just make do for tonight. If you don’t like them, we’ll buy new ones tomorrow."
"I suggested flying, but you insisted on train tickets. I proposed staying in a hotel, but you disagreed. I wanted to bring a suitcase, but you insisted on traveling light," Qi Qi vented all the frustration she had bottled up all night. "After waiting so long, I can’t even take a proper shower. If it’s like this, was there any point in coming out to travel?"
"Stop," Song Cong made a halting gesture. "I’ll go buy some now, okay?"
To Qi Qi, his words sounded like he was accusing her of being unreasonable. She raised her voice sharply. "I’m saying you never consider my opinions!"
"Can we just solve the problem at hand first?" Song Cong suppressed his irritation. "Shampoo, shower gel—what else do you need? Conditioner? Anything else?"
" I need?" Qi Qi, furious, knocked over the bottles with a swipe. "Tell me, are my demands really that high?"
The glass bottles rolled to the floor, shattering and mixing with the spilled lotion into a messy puddle.
Huan'er stood awkwardly at the doorway, watching the argument escalate. She quickly stepped in to mediate. "I’ll go buy them. There’s a mall right downstairs. You two should rest—you’ve had a long day. Why argue when we’re supposed to be having fun?"
Qi Qi crossed her arms and turned her head away.
Song Cong, his face dark, pushed Huan'er toward the door. "I’ll go with you."
Huan'er glanced back at the silent Qi Qi and added softly, "Qi, I’ll head out first."
"Be careful on the way," the girl reminded, her eyes red.
Song Cong didn’t say a word the entire way downstairs.
Huan'er couldn’t help but nudge him. "What’s going on with you two?"
A bottle of shampoo had sparked a huge fight, leaving any bystander baffled. As their longtime friend, Huan'er vaguely sensed some hidden "landmines" between them, though she couldn’t pinpoint exactly what they were.
Song Cong took a deep breath, hesitating before speaking.
Seeing his reluctance, Huan'er didn’t press further. Instead, she tried to console him. "We’re here to have fun. Just meet each other halfway—it’s not like this is some life-or-death battle."
Song Cong remained silent as they walked side by side out of the residential area.
To the left was the mall; to the right, the subway station.
Just as Huan'er was about to turn left, Song Cong pulled her back. "You know me well, right?"
Huan'er nodded. They’d known each other since they were fourteen—it was a no-brainer.
"You probably... know Qi Qi well too, right?"
Huan'er hesitated slightly before nodding again.
The old misunderstandings between them no longer existed, but they had been apart for so long that she wasn’t sure how much Qi Qi had changed in ways she couldn’t see.
Song Cong seemed to read her mind and added quietly, "Qi Qi hasn’t changed."
Huan'er was puzzled. "Why ask this all of a sudden?"
Song Cong shook his head faintly and changed the subject. "Earlier, I heard you speaking the local dialect with the landlord. Huan'er, you’ve really become one of them now."
She had already shared the news of her graduate school admission, and Song Cong, as an eight-year medical program student, was destined to be apart even longer.
Huan'er smiled. "First, I was a Sishui native, then a Tianhe native, and now I’m one of them. Seems like I’m destined to drift like floating grass, never settling anywhere."Song Cong finally showed a smile, "Cutting all ties with your senior, no more connections?"
"You always bring up the sorest point." Huan'er shot him a glare.
Song Cong said leisurely, "It's best to make a clean break. I heard you almost fell into a slump."
"That big mouth Jing Qichi."
"Don't grumble. Reporting to me is his duty."
Huan'er frowned, "How many Gray Transactions between you two have I not known about?"
"Well, there are indeed some." Song Cong tilted his chin toward the subway station, "Hurry back."
"Shampoo, conditioner, body wash, body lotion, and another box of face masks." Huan'er reminded him, "Got it?"
Song Cong nodded, waving with a smile.
Yes, what couldn't this head of his remember?
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