Be Passionately In Love

In that moment, Xu Zhi learned from him what it meant to be natural.

The barbecue restaurant was bustling with noise. Xu Zhi's ears were filled with the clinking of beer bottles, the exaggerated boasts among friends and family—each more outrageous than the last—and the flattery of subordinates bragging about owning "one apartment in the city, another in the suburbs."

Chen Luzhou stood there, completely out of place amidst the chaotic surroundings. When he smiled, it was like the dewy needles of a snow-covered pine in the early morning forest—fresh and vibrant, yet carrying a sharp, radiant energy.

Xu Zhi recalled a line from a movie:

"Fear imprisons the soul, but hope can set you free."

Though his sharpness and boldness were undeniable, he was indeed someone who inspired hope.

He was just very hard to fool.

Xu Zhi silently put away her phone and took the candy, deliberately avoiding the part he had held. "...You art students really go through a lot of paper. That whole pack was used by you two."

Chen Luzhou chuckled but didn’t deny it. He gestured behind him with his eyes. "Still eating?"

Xu Zhi unwrapped the candy, popped it into her mouth, and shook her head.

Without hesitation, he tapped his fingers on the counter. "Then you can pay."

Though it had been agreed that Xu Zhi would treat, the cashier—unaware of the context—couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his shameless, deadpan tone.

After saying this, Chen Luzhou turned and walked away. Xu Zhi watched as he casually tossed the pack of tissues onto the table, muttering something under his breath. She only faintly caught his teasing remark to Zhu Yangqi, dripping with sarcasm: "Save some, bro. If it’s that bad, maybe your dad should switch to planting trees." Then he grabbed his jacket—which had somehow ended up on a chair—and walked out.

Rumor had it Zhu Yangqi had repeated a year, making him older than the rest of them. Calling him "bro" wasn’t wrong, but it sure sounded mocking.

Zhu Yangqi bristled. "Dude, look at the mess in front of you! Anyone would think you were up to something shady!"

"..."

After paying, Xu Zhi headed out as well. Just then, a message from Old Xu popped up on her phone.

Guangji is a Good Doctor: Your grandma asked if you could bring back a roasted field mouse tonight?

Gardenia Won’t Bloom: ??

Gardenia Won’t Bloom: Are you using a question mark because even you think that thing’s hard to catch?

Guangji is a Good Doctor: Oh, it’s roasted sweet potato. Have you eaten dinner? When are you coming back?

Gardenia Won’t Bloom: Cai Cai’s still having a late-night snack. Not sure when.

Guangji is a Good Doctor: Never mind, then. I’ll just lock up. You can sleep at Cai Cai’s place tonight. I’ll have the sweet potato delivered to Grandma.

Gardenia Won’t Bloom: ...No, Dad. Cai Cai might not even make it home tonight.

Xu Zhi sent a photo of Cai Cai dyeing her hair earlier that afternoon.

After a long pause, Old Xu replied: Will be tall.

Xu Guangji habitually used the Wubi input method, often resulting in typos. Xu Zhi, however, was fluent in deciphering her dad’s messages: Right? Cai Cai’s got skills, huh?

Guangji is a Good Doctor: I meant Dean Cai’s blood pressure will skyrocket!!

Gardenia Won’t Bloom: ...Cai Cai says she supports you becoming dean!

**

Qingyi City was a port city. In recent years, the provincial government had made sweeping reforms, transforming the urban area from outdated to modern, with skyscrapers standing tall and commercial districts packed tighter than the Olympic rings. Yifeng Alley was in the city center—a plot of land so fiercely contested by the eastern and western ports that it had even led to bloodshed and fatalities.In the end, no one gained any advantage. Yifeng Alley retained its original appearance, standing alone amidst the bustling commercial streets with its raw charm from the 80s and 90s. Ironically, it became a hotspot for social media check-ins, even boosting the business of nearby barbecue joints. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be this lively at this hour.

Outside the barbecue restaurant, a long queue snaked like dominoes, ready to collapse at the slightest push. As Xu Zhi stepped out, she saw Chen Luzhou idly leaning against a spinning horse-shaped waiting chair by the door, arms crossed, teasing a child.

Looking down at the kid who barely reached his thighs, he provoked, "Rock-paper-scissors. If you win, I’ll give you the seat."

The child refused to leave, stubbornly insisting, "No! I already lost five times. You’re cheating."

Chen Luzhou smirked. "Can’t handle losing, huh? Blaming others when you lose."

"Then how come you win every time?"

"Because you’re dumb."

The kid looked crushed for a moment. Xu Zhi braced herself for the inevitable threat— "Do you believe I’ll call Ultraman to teach you a lesson?" She always found these moments exasperating. Part of her wanted to retort that Ultraman didn’t exist, but Old Xu had taught her to protect children’s innocence. Ultraman was their ultimate weapon, more effective than even the police.

Sure enough, the kid piped up, "Brother, are you scared of Ultraman?"

"Terrified," Chen Luzhou deadpanned.

"Then do you believe I’ll call Ultraman to beat you up? Mebius—the favorite of all Ultramen!"

"Oh? Aren’t the favorites usually the weakest?"

"..." The kid was on the verge of tears. "You’re shameless! How old are you, stealing our chairs?"

"Even at my age, standing gets tiring," Chen Luzhou drawled, utterly unrepentant. "If you don’t mind, I can call you ‘brother’ instead."

What kind of monster is this? The kid let out an indignant screech before finally storming off in a huff.

......

Xu Zhi walked over and warned him, "He’s probably gone to get his parents."

Chen Luzhou leaned against the horse chair, his gaze drifting lazily over her for a couple of seconds. Though his expression was neutral, Xu Zhi sensed an invisible fuse in his eyes, hinting at something vast and hidden beneath.

"O~kay," he replied, dragging out the word.

Xu Zhi pulled out her phone and opened the voice recorder.

Chen Luzhou watched her fiddling with it. "What are you doing?"

"Recording," she said, tapping the app. "In case we run into unreasonable parents later. I’ll hand this to the police as evidence."

Chen Luzhou chuckled softly but didn’t move, tilting his head to watch the dancing music fountain in the distance instead. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, his tone breezy. "We just met. Why help me so much?"

You’re not exactly pure-hearted, are you?

Xu Zhi blinked at him, confused. "I thought exchanging names made us friends."

Chen Luzhou: "You must have a lot of friends, then."

Xu Zhi pondered seriously. "Not really."

Just then, a hurried, grateful voice cut in. "Thank you so much! No idea why it’s so crowded today. My dad has trouble walking and didn’t dare leave for the bathroom. Really appreciate you saving us a seat!"Chen Luzhou finally straightened up from his chair and said calmly to the father and daughter, "It's fine."

Xu Zhi was still in a daze when she turned her head and saw the parent actually leading the child over in a huff to argue. Seeing the situation here, the parent abruptly turned and began berating their own child instead: "That uncle’s foot is already like this, and you still fought him for the seat! Have some shame! Forget about eating—go home and do your homework!"

......

The evening was deep, neon lights and billboards drooped chaotically between the buildings. The road was congested with traffic, horns blaring incessantly, while behind them, the raucous sounds of drinking games grew louder inside the barbecue shop.

The two stood at the entrance, waiting for Cai Yingying and Zhu Yangqi to finish up inside.

"Why aren’t they done yet?" Xu Zhi tapped her phone against her palm absentmindedly, inexplicably feeling a little guilty.

Chen Luzhou tilted his head as if gazing at the stars, his Adam’s apple strikingly prominent—like a sharp, cold right angle pressed out by a cube of ice. After a long pause, he finally lowered his head and asked with a smile, "What, afraid of being checked up on?"

Xu Zhi felt as though the stars in the sky had suddenly leaped into his eyes—how could they be so bright?

"No," she replied, momentarily confused about who he meant by "checked up on," assuming it was her family urging her to return. She looked at him and said, "My grandma wants roasted sweet potatoes. At this hour, I don’t even know where to buy them."

Chen Luzhou turned on his phone screen and checked the time.

It was indeed late.

In recent years, Qingyi City had been striving to become a "civilized city." Under the relentless supervision of urban management, street vendors had dwindled. Though this was peak time for night markets, selling roasted sweet potatoes—a barely profitable business—was something few in Qingyi, a city rapidly developing with its fair share of overnight millionaires from demolitions, were willing to do.

"Your grandma stays up pretty late," he teased, half-doubting her.

"Yeah, if she doesn’t get it, she’ll throw a tantrum. I’m not joking."

"That fierce, huh—" Chen Luzhou drawled, leaning his back against a nearby telephone pole. He lowered his gaze, studying her thoughtfully. "I might have a solution."

When Zhu Yangqi received the call, he was happily slurping the marrow from the last bone. "What? Where are you two going? Roasted what? Those things are hard to catch. Oh, okay. Fine, I’ll finish eating, take her back, then come find you."

Only then did Cai Yingying snap out of her daze and ask, bewildered, "Where did they go?"

"Something about catching moles?" Zhu Yangqi hung up, still unclear after listening for so long. "Whatever. My job’s just to finish these bones and take you back."

"Oh—" Cai Yingying narrowed her eyes, seeing right through him, and asked bluntly, "Is your friend trying to pursue mine?"

Zhu Yangqi, who had just stuck a straw into the bone, froze. "What? You mean Chen Luzhou?"

"Yeah, otherwise why would they go catch moles alone? That’s so intimate."

"How is catching moles intimate? It’s not like going to the movies," Zhu Yangqi retorted with typical straight-guy confusion.

Cai Yingying declared confidently, wearing an expression that said, "I know you men all too well," "It just is. Your friend wants to pursue mine. And don’t say my friend initiated it—she would never make the first move.""It's clearly your friend who's more proactive," Zhu Yangqi scoffed dismissively. "I think you're overreacting. My friend would never do something so inhumane—"

Later, it occurred to him that Chen Luzhou had indeed done plenty of inhumane things. Zhu Yangqi himself paused, momentarily stunned. Then, inexplicably, a surge of anger flared up within him—whether it was indignation at having his moral character and integrity underestimated or something else entirely, he couldn’t say. With great solemnity, he pulled off his gloves and tossed them onto the table with an air of righteous conviction. Staring straight at Cai Yingying, he enunciated each word deliberately: "I’m telling you, he wouldn’t. If you said he was into one-night stands or working as a gigolo or something, then fine, I can’t vouch for that. But stealing someone’s partner? He’d never do that!"

Cai Yingying: "..."

**

Chen Luzhou hadn’t lived there for long, and his kitchen was cold and unused, with no signs of cooking. He vaguely remembered that the cleaning auntie, grateful for his help tutoring her son with math, had given him a bag of sweet potatoes a couple of days ago—though he had no idea where he’d put them.

Xu Zhi watched as he meticulously lifted even the toilet lid to search, and suddenly hesitated. If he actually found them, should she still give them to her grandmother?

Emerging from the bathroom, Chen Luzhou noticed Xu Zhi following him like a shadow. He sidestepped to create some distance, then smoothly maneuvered around her before shooting her a deadpan look. "Why are you following me? You think I’d sneak-eat in the bathroom?" His sharp, clean jaw gestured toward the sofa. "Go sit there. I’ll bring it to you when I find it."

Xu Zhi obediently turned and headed for the living room, marveling inwardly at the strange twist of fate. She deliberately chose the spot where the lady had sat that afternoon and curiously glanced around.

The apartment was spotless—unexpected for a high school senior—with no textbooks in sight. Instead, several drones engraved with names, basketballs covered in flamboyant signatures, and a half-finished canvas (which showed little artistic talent) were neatly arranged in the corner. Then there were the models he’d mentioned—quite a few of them. The one Zhu Yangqi had dismantled appeared to be a small architectural piece with mortise-and-tenon joints. Next to it was a sculpted figure resembling the kind of David statue often found in art studios, though the face looked oddly familiar. It took Xu Zhi a while to realize it was probably modeled after himself. He’s so narcissistic—sculpting himself and carving his name everywhere, even on his iPad.

From the looks of it, a cleaning service regularly maintained the place. Aside from the pile of disassembled "pole members" Zhu Yangqi had left strewn about, everything else was immaculate.

Within minutes, Chen Luzhou actually found the sweet potatoes and held them up. "Can you bake these?"

"Do you have a microwave?"

"You’re going to bake them here?"

"Is that not okay?" Her tone was genuinely earnest, her eyes clear and straightforward. "We don’t have a microwave at home."

It was true—Old Xu disliked microwaves and had only bought a steamer.

Of course, Chen Luzhou couldn’t fathom how anyone could live without a microwave these days.

Unable to dissuade her, he resigned himself to an internal reminder: Chen Luzhou, don’t be a beast—she has a boyfriend.Zhu Yangqi was right—looking innocent had its advantages. Even a remark so obviously loaded with ulterior motives sounded like nothing more than a simple request for roasted sweet potatoes when it came from her lips.

Xu Zhi washed the sweet potatoes, placed them in the microwave, set the timer for fifteen minutes, and pressed start. The microwave hummed to life, its noise cutting through the quiet of the night.

Normally, this senior-year dormitory wasn’t so silent. There were arguments with parents, fights with roommates, quarrels with girlfriends, and the occasional wail of a child—whenever Chen Luzhou wanted to study in peace, the joys and sorrows of others always seemed to amplify. But tonight, it was eerily quiet, as if everyone had dropped dead, making those fifteen minutes feel especially awkward.

It was a small two-bedroom apartment, with a kitchen aisle barely wide enough for one person. The countertops were empty of pots and pans, but there were plenty of cleaned instant noodle containers—left for the old man who collected cardboard at the door.

The two of them leaned against opposite sides of the kitchen doorframe like a pair of guardian statues, staring at the red glow inside the microwave. The scene was bizarre, as if they were waiting for some life-saving elixir.

Chen Luzhou knew he should tactfully excuse himself, but he was worried she might blow up the kitchen. So he asked, "Do you usually cook?"

"I can, but not often," Xu Zhi replied politely. "What about you?"

I’m not trying to flirt with you.

Still, he answered, leaning lazily against the doorframe. "Just instant noodles when I watch movies."

Xu Zhi: "What kind of movies do you like?"

She really didn’t know how to hold a conversation. The exchange was already painfully dry, and Chen Luzhou had no interest in continuing. But things got even more awkward when, barely two minutes after the sweet potatoes went in, the dying light in the living room finally gave out. The kitchen had no light to begin with—it had burned out long ago, and he hadn’t bothered to fix it since he never used it.

In an instant, the entire room plunged into complete darkness.

Xu Zhi instinctively checked the microwave first. The hum of the motor was still stubbornly churning, and a faint orange-red glow emanated from the center—so it wasn’t a power outage.

The kitchen was now illuminated only by that dim, hazy light. Because the microwave continued its oblivious rotation, the soft glow cast a blurry reflection on both of them, creating an atmosphere that suddenly rivaled a flickering candlelit dinner—silent, awkward, and oddly romantic.

For a moment, Chen Luzhou wasn’t sure whether to say I watch all kinds of movies or to apologize on behalf of the oblivious microwave for making things a little too romantic.

"Can I add you on WeChat?"

In the dim light, Xu Zhi looked at him and abruptly asked.

See, Chen Luzhou? You’ve done it now.

He lowered his gaze to her, his expression turning cold. He wanted to say, Don’t you have a boyfriend? Is this appropriate? But he was afraid she’d fire back with something like, Can’t someone with a boyfriend add people of the opposite sex on WeChat?

"My phone’s dead," he blurted after a long pause.

He thought it was the perfect excuse—until the next second, when he forgot about WeChat’s hourly step-count notification. His phone buzzed in his pocket with a ding , and since the screen was pressed against the fabric, the sudden white light instantly illuminated Xu Zhi’s bewildered face in the pitch-black room.

"……"Xu Zhi let out an "oh" and said to him leisurely, "Didn't you say you'd give me a seat if I added you on WeChat? I'm a bit tired from standing. Could you get me a chair?"

Chen Luzhou: "..."