Lu Xixiao didn't think that noodle shop was particularly good, but for some reason he nodded and followed Zhou Wan back to the same place they'd visited yesterday.
"Three Treasure Noodles again?" Zhou Wan asked.
He had smoked a cigarette on the way here, and with the smoke, some of his irritation had dissipated. The oppressive aura around him finally felt less suffocating.
"Yeah," he responded indifferently.
Zhou Wan told Uncle Kang "same as yesterday" and quickly pulled out her phone to pay for the noodles.
Since he hadn't wanted to accept her money yesterday, she would treat him again instead. Though this small amount probably meant nothing in Lu Xixiao's eyes—a single pair of his shoes could likely cover several months of her living expenses.
Lu Xixiao wasn't the type to miss details, and he noticed her hurried payment.
He tilted his head, exhaling smoke: "Keeping such clear accounts?"
Zhou Wan pressed her lips together, answering softly: "Money isn't easy to come by."
She had a quiet temperament, didn't speak much, and never chattered unnecessarily. She answered when asked, her voice fine and soft—not saccharine, but exceptionally clean.
Lu Xixiao suddenly felt that having her around wasn't annoying at all; instead, it brought a sense of calm.
"Why do you need to earn money?"
The first time he'd seen her, she'd been working part-time at the arcade.
"Grandma is sick."
He raised an eyebrow, showing neither excessive surprise nor sympathy. Taking another drag, he said flatly: "What about your parents?"
"My father passed away when I was little."
His hand holding the cigarette paused slightly: "And your mother?"
The question made Zhou Wan accidentally bite her tongue. The metallic taste of blood spread in her mouth, but she revealed nothing.
Seeing her reluctance to answer, Lu Xixiao didn't press further.
When they carried the two bowls of Three Treasure Noodles to the table, Zhou Wan noticed the wound on his hand as he picked up his chopsticks. It looked days old but had been neglected—healing then breaking open again, leaving an angry red mark.
Zhou Wan averted her gaze and lowered her head to eat.
This time, Lu Xixiao somewhat politely ate a few bites as well.
They ate in silence.
Zhou Wan finished first. She took a tissue to wipe her mouth, then said quietly to Lu Xixiao: "I'll step out for a moment."
"Mm."
There was a pharmacy near the noodle shop.
Zhou Wan returned with alcohol and gauze.
She pushed the bag toward him, eyes downcast: "The wound on your hand needs disinfecting."
Lu Xixiao raised an eyebrow.
Accustomed to being pampered by all sorts of girls, he didn't take this concern seriously and brushed it off rudely: "Not necessary."
Zhou Wan paused briefly, unaffected by his attitude, and simply stated the consequences.
"If it's not properly disinfected, it could get infected later and become more troublesome."
Grandma had experienced that once before.
Lu Xixiao leaned back in his chair, chin slightly raised, studying her casually for a moment before laughing.
He leaned forward, extending his hand toward her without a word.
Zhou Wan looked up, puzzled.
Lu Xixiao smiled somewhat mockingly: "I don't know how."
"..."
His mood seemed to have improved again.
Unpredictable.
Zhou Wan took out the disinfectant, dipped a cotton swab in it, and began cleaning his wound.
Her head was bowed with intense concentration, hair falling across her chest, a few strands brushing against his fingertips—ticklish.
From this angle, Lu Xixiao had a perfect view to observe her.
She had long eyelashes, a delicate upturned nose, and youthful features. The only things that didn't match her cool appearance were her two canine teeth—the very features that made Jiang Fan think she looked sweet.
Finally, Zhou Wan applied the gauze.
"Done."
Lu Xixiao glanced down. She'd actually made a decent job of it."Going to the arcade?" he asked.
"Yeah."
"Let's go." Lu Xixiao stood up.
Zhou Wan followed him outside. "Are you coming too?"
"I'm heading that way anyway."
The arcade wasn't far from the noodle shop. Zhou Wan walked alongside Lu Xixiao.
Midway, Lu Xixiao answered a phone call.
The voice on the other end was loud enough for Zhou Wan to overhear: "A Xiao! Damn it, someone's picking a fight, it's already turned into a brawl!"
Lu Xixiao stopped walking. "Where?"
Zhou Wan didn't catch the exact address, only that it was somewhere on the pedestrian street.
"Mm." His voice remained calm. "I'm on my way."
After hanging up, Zhou Wan said, "You should go. I'm almost there anyway, I can make it on my own."
"Alright." Lu Xixiao replied. "Let me know if you need anything."
To be honest, Lu Xixiao's temper wasn't particularly bad. He was quite different from those hot-headed troublemakers who flew off the handle at the slightest provocation, and he rarely went looking for trouble himself.
But he was stubborn and unyielding, never backing down from anyone.
By the time Lu Xixiao arrived, the scene was already a mess, and the fight was nearly over.
He had no intention of joining in. Running a hand through his hair, he sat down on the steps, lit a cigarette, and exhaled a cloud of smoke that blurred his features.
The sky hadn't fully darkened yet. The newly lit streetlamps cast a glow against the deep blue backdrop, resembling bright stars.
Jiang Fan, sweat stinging his eyes, spotted Lu Xixiao lounging casually to the side and yelled, "A Xiao! Since you're here, why not lend a hand?"
Lu Xixiao chuckled softly, flicking the ash from his cigarette. "Isn't it almost over anyway?"
Scenes like this easily branded everyone involved as "delinquents."
Though Lu Xixiao hadn't joined the fray, it was clear he was the one calling the shots.
Dressed in black, with a sharp physique, a cigarette dangling from his lips, he looked down on the crowd with an impassive expression, his features growing even more defined under the mottled lighting.
It was then that a glint of light suddenly flashed at the waist of someone on the opposing side.
No one else had noticed.
Lu Xixiao snatched up a stick, his eyes dark and intense.
Moving swiftly, his muscles taut, he swung the stick hard against the person's wrist. A sharp dagger clattered to the ground, followed by a cry of pain.
"If you're going to play dirty,"
Lu Xixiao raised his arm just in time to block a punch, grabbed the person by the hair, and yanked them backward, his voice cold. "Don't get caught."
He moved with precision.
The scuffle ended shortly after.
Casually brushing the dust off his arm, Lu Xixiao walked over to one of the fallen figures and looked down at him. "Tell Luo He to come to me directly from now on. No need to hide behind all this sneaky business."
Lu Xixiao and Luo He had been at odds for years.
Luo He was a few years older and couldn't stand Lu Xixiao's arrogance and popularity. He seized every opportunity to put him down, hoping to secure his own status.
Jiang Fan spat disdainfully to the side before turning to ask, "What were you up to skipping class this afternoon? You've been MIA a lot lately."
An image of Zhou Wan flashed through Lu Xixiao's mind.
He smirked. "The hospital."
"What were you doing at the hospital?"
"Lu Zhongyue is sick."
"How is he? Nothing serious, I hope?" Jiang Fan asked.
Lu Xixiao let out a derisive laugh. "Who knows? It's not like he lacks people to take care of him anyway."
Jiang Fan was aware of the situation at Lu Xixiao's home and knew that Lu Zhongyue had recently found himself a troublesome new wife, which had been grating on Lu Xixiao's nerves.He patted Lu Xixiao's shoulder. "Alright, go have some fun."
The group headed to a bar.
Someone had invited a few girls over.
Lu Xixiao sat in the corner, slender fingers holding a glass, his Adam's apple bobbing as he drank. He spoke little, mostly listening to those around him, only occasionally joining the conversation.
Yet it was precisely this demeanor that most attracted the girls.
Ye Cheng made her way through the crowd and sat beside Lu Xixiao, clinking her glass against his with a crisp sound.
Lu Xixiao turned his head.
Ye Cheng smiled at him. "Drinking alone? I'll keep you company."
Lu Xixiao chuckled softly but said nothing, tilting his head back to down the remaining half of his drink.
Ye Cheng had heard the rumors about Lu Xixiao—how he was wild and carefree, changing girlfriends faster than his clothes, a passionate iceberg.
His current behavior felt like an encouragement to her.
In such an atmosphere, even the slightest closeness could amplify the tension.
Her heart raced as she tentatively leaned closer to Lu Xixiao, linking her arm with his.
He didn't react.
Emboldened, Ye Cheng relaxed against him, only to feel something poking her elbow. She looked down and saw a keychain half-sticking out of his pocket—a blue fluffy ball.
It didn't suit Lu Xixiao's vibe at all.
Curious, she pulled it out. There were no keys attached to the keychain.
"Why aren't there any keys on it?" she asked.
Lu Xixiao raised an eyebrow. "Did I say you could touch it?"
He was always like this—blunt and unsparing.
Ye Cheng had never met a guy who brushed her off so directly, but she wasn't annoyed. Instead, she hooked the fluffy ball with her index finger, holding it up as she leaned against his shoulder to examine it.
"You probably didn't buy this yourself, right?" Ye Cheng asked with a smile. "You don't seem like the type to like this kind of thing."
"Someone gave it to me," Lu Xixiao said.
"It's pretty cute, Xixiao. Can you give it to me?"
She knew Lu Xixiao came from a wealthy family and had heard he was generous with his girlfriends. Ye Cheng didn't really want the keychain—she just wanted to create a connection with him.
Lu Xixiao took a drag of his cigarette and stayed silent.
Ye Cheng shook his arm gently. "Please?"
He tilted his chin. "Put it down."
His tone was still lazy, but this time, it carried an inexplicable warning.
Ye Cheng caught the hint and placed the keychain on the coffee table.
Lu Xixiao leaned forward, picked it up, and tucked it back into his pocket. As he moved, Ye Cheng noticed the cut on his arm—a leftover from the earlier fight, the blood already dried.
"Xixiao, your hand is hurt," Ye Cheng said. "Do you want to get it treated?"
"Can't be bothered."
Amid the blaring rock music, Ye Cheng brought her lips close to his ear. "I know how. Want me to help?"
Lu Xixiao turned his head and smiled ambiguously. "Oh? Where should we go?"
Ye Cheng looked at his profile under the flickering lights—his tall nose bridge, the teasing glint in his eyes, his casual and unrestrained demeanor.
Her heart skipped a beat again, every sense effortlessly captivated by him.
Just moments ago, she had been afraid of angering him, but now he had her heart racing.
It seemed no matter how confident or outgoing a girl was, she'd easily falter in front of Lu Xixiao.
Summoning her courage, she took his hand. "Wherever you say."
The scent of her perfume filled the air around them.Lu Xixiao was accustomed to such lively, indulgent settings and the myriad of perfume scents that filled them, but tonight he suddenly found them irritating.
His mind drifted to the clean, crisp scent of fabric softener that clung to Zhou Wan.
He tugged at the corner of his mouth, feeling abruptly disinterested, and stood up.
Jiang Fan called out to him: "A Xiao, where are you going?"
He waved a hand dismissively behind him: "Leaving."
Night had deepened, and Zhou Wan, for once, had gone to bed before midnight.
In that hazy state between sleep and wakefulness, her phone, placed beside her pillow, chimed softly.
She was a light sleeper. Blinking groggily, she stared blankly at a spot on the white wall for a long moment before her thoughts gradually cleared. She turned her gaze to the glowing screen of her phone.
The light was harsh. Squinting, she struggled to read.
[Lu Xixiao] had sent a message.
Zhou Wan froze, even wondering if she was dreaming.
She reached down and pinched her thigh. It hurt.
This wasn't a dream.
Why would he message her?
It was already half past midnight.
Any lingering drowsiness vanished. Propping herself up on her elbows, she opened WeChat.
He had sent a picture.
Zhou Wan tapped to open it and immediately recognized his hand.
He seemed to be sitting on steps, his wrist resting on his knee, the back of his hand hanging naturally. On his pale, cool-toned forearm was a three-centimeter-long cut.
Then, her phone vibrated again.
Another message came through.
[Lu Xixiao: What should I do?]
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