On the night of the college entrance exam's conclusion, the entire city belonged to the examinees.
All the usual hangouts for high schoolers were no longer the best spots for gatherings.
They were ready to crash the adult world.
Nightclubs, bars, and KTVs were filled with youthful yet bold faces.
Not to mention the bustling roadside barbecue stalls.
The yellow, intoxicating drink could finally be called beer.
And they were ready to down three or five pitchers of it.
Hou Junqi and the others had booked a table at Milk, planning to stay all night.
Zhang Shu had just finished showering at home when the group chat started blowing up.
Wu Pengcheng: "Why shower before eating barbecue?"
Han Xiao: "Shu, you dressing up to blind everyone at Milk?"
Hou Junqi: "Who do you think you are? Of course he’s going to see his wife first."
Han Xiao: "My apologies, my apologies."
Wu Pengcheng: "Wait, you’re bringing your wife to a nightclub?"
Zhang Shu: "In your dreams. Not bringing her."
What kind of place and crowd was this? Did they really think he’d let Moli Hua step foot here?
Zhang Shu exited WeChat and called Sheng Xia.
Two rings—then the call was dropped.
Dropped?
Half a minute later, a message popped up on QQ.
Moli Hua: "Eating."
Zhang Shu: "At home?"
Moli Hua: "Out."
So her mom was with her.
Zhang Shu: "When are you heading back?"
Moli Hua: "Probably around 10?"
Such an awkward time.
Zhang Shu glanced at his fresh outfit and clean-shaven jaw.
Fine. What was the point of dressing up? Waste of effort.
Moli Hua: "What’s up?"
Zhang Shu: "Miss you."
Moli Hua: "..."
Moli Hua: "We’ll see each other tomorrow, right?"
Tomorrow, they had to return to class to estimate their scores, followed by the farewell banquet in the evening.
Zhang Shu: "Yeah."
Heartless. Wasn’t she eager to see him on such a significant night after the exams?
Apparently not. Whatever.
After stuffing themselves at the barbecue stall, by 10 p.m., when the nightclub crowd started pouring in, the group moved to Milk.
The music was deafening, the lights flashy and chaotic. Zhang Shu had been here a few times before, mostly for birthdays, staying just briefly before leaving.
He never understood why anyone would want to celebrate in such a noisy place where you had to shout to be heard.
Until tonight, it all made sense.
Between guys, shouting was the only way. But when it came to someone you didn’t want to shout at—say, a girl you fancied—leaning in to whisper became the perfect excuse.
Every time Wu Pengcheng and the others returned from the dance floor, they brought back a few girls. The couch grew increasingly cramped, everyone practically breathing into each other’s ears to talk.
This was a place to unleash hormones.
Zhang Shu, still recovering from his illness, couldn’t drink. He wasn’t into dancing either, so he stayed at the table playing dice with Han Xiao.
Han Xiao was an idiot—his bluffs were written all over his face. After a couple of rounds, Zhang Shu could guess how many ones he’d rolled. Half an hour in, Zhang Shu hadn’t lost once. Boring as hell.
Feeling restless, Zhang Shu scanned the room and spotted plenty of familiar faces—clearly from the affiliated high school.
Who knew? They were all studious during school, but once free, they sure knew how to party.
Just as he was about to look away, someone appeared in front of him.
Chen Mengyao.
"Big star!" Wu Pengcheng called out first. "Aren’t you debuting soon? Daring to party at a nightclub? Not afraid someone’ll snap a pic for future blackmail?"
Chen Mengyao snapped, "Wu Pengcheng, screw off!"
She perched on the low table across from the couch and cut straight to the chase, asking Zhang Shu, "Are you and Sheng Xia together now?"
The place was loud, and they weren’t close, but Zhang Shu heard her crystal clear.I didn't quite catch it, but I managed to guess.
He stood up, "Anytime, as long as she allows it."
The lip movements were hard to decipher, so Chen Mengyao leaned in closer, "What!?"
Everyone at the booth was watching them.
Especially the girls Wu Pengcheng had brought along. Most of them had come hoping to get to know Zhang Shu, but who knew he wouldn't drink and only played dice with his buddies? No one could figure out why he even came to a nightclub.
So when they saw Chen Mengyao approach, they were all eager to see if the stunning beauty could crack him.
Zhang Shu leaned in to whisper in Wu Pengcheng's ear, "I'm heading out first."
Wu Pengcheng checked his phone and yelled, "Leaving at just 11? Come on! The show hasn't even started yet!"
Zhang Shu: "You guys have fun. I can't keep up."
Wu Pengcheng, mindful of his health, nodded. "We'll hang out again when you're better!"
Zhang Shu: "Let Old Hou and the others know for me."
"Got it."
Zhang Shu left.
The girls whispered among themselves.
"Up close, he's even hotter. How does his nose look so perfect?"
"His voice is really nice too."
"Ugh, look—that girl just left with him!"
"Huh? I thought he was the aloof type."
One of the girls asked Wu Pengcheng, "Hey, is that his girlfriend?"
Wu Pengcheng snapped, "No!"
"Does he have a girlfriend?"
"Yeah, he's going to see his wife now!"
Shocked.
Zhang Shu hadn't expected Chen Mengyao to follow him out.
"Something else?"
Chen Mengyao: "I just asked you..."
Zhang Shu: "Anytime, as long as she allows it."
"Huh?"
"That was my answer earlier."
Chen Mengyao turned the words over in her mind and understood.
She had always assumed Sheng Xia had lied to her—that they were actually together but claimed otherwise.
Because the way they acted was no different from a couple.
But hearing the truth from Zhang Shu himself, she couldn't quite describe how she felt.
So Zhang Shu could pursue someone. He could be in a relationship—just not with her.
She didn't think there was any chance left between them. Asking this question served no real purpose.
She just wanted to know the answer.
To give her youth a closing chapter, even if it wasn’t a happy ending.
"If—and I mean if ," Chen Mengyao hesitated but pressed on, "if I had pursued you back in freshman year, could we have ended up together?"
Zhang Shu tilted his head, giving her a puzzled look. "This doesn’t sound like a question you’d ask."
Yeah, something so desperate—asking about a what if .
"How am I supposed to imagine something that never happened?" Zhang Shu's tone was even, not cold, just like usual—as if they weren’t discussing feelings but a math problem. "Ask me about the future, and I can at least reason it out. The past is pointless."
"Back then, how did you feel about me?" Chen Mengyao persisted.
Zhang Shu let out a thoughtful "Hmm..." as if genuinely recalling or carefully considering.
"You reminded me of my sister, especially when you sang. It felt familiar, comforting. But I knew comfort wasn’t the same as liking someone. Even though it was nice being around you, dating you back then would’ve been irresponsible, and I didn’t want that. Besides, I never got the sense you had feelings for me either, so it didn’t cross my mind."
Maybe it was because after today, many of them would never see each other again.
Words spoken at farewells are always sincere.
Zhang Shu didn’t quite seem like himself either.
Or perhaps, she had never met the real him.In the past, he would always dodge such topics with evasive language and verbal artistry.
But today, he gave her a clear answer.
He didn’t say she wasn’t good—he said he couldn’t see any real intention in her.
If they had dated back then, she would have been the one hurt, because what he felt for her wasn’t affection but familiarity.
Even familiarity could be a reason to start a relationship, but from beginning to end, he had never thought of taking advantage of her, never let such a misunderstanding happen.
Chen Mengyao felt a sour bitterness rise in her chest, but more than that, an indescribable sense of relief and solace.
Zhang Shu left in a taxi.
Standing at the bar entrance, Chen Mengyao watched the car grow smaller in the distance, then suddenly smiled faintly.
Goodbye, Zhang Shu.
If every girl must have someone to like in her youth, then she was lucky—hers was Zhang Shu.
......
That evening, Sheng Xia first had dinner with Wang Lianhua, then went for a late-night snack with Sheng Mingfeng. By the time she got back and finished tidying up, it was already past eleven.
She had planned to sleep early, but her body clock wouldn’t allow it.
She wasn’t the least bit sleepy.
Scrolling through social media, she noticed everyone was still out having fun. She wondered if her own lifestyle was too rigid and dull.
Just as she was thinking this, she came across another short video posted by Hou Junqi.
He had uploaded one an hour earlier, and the moment she clicked, the blaring music nearly deafened her.
The scene was unmistakably a bar—a few guys lounging or standing around while Han Xiao checked the drinks with the staff.
Zhang Shu was slouched on a seat, elbows resting on his knees in a casual posture.
She knew they’d gone to a bar.
She just hadn’t realized it was this kind of bar.
The latest video Hou Junqi posted left Sheng Xia wide-eyed.
In the frame was a long runway, where rows of long legs moved effortlessly in sync. The high heels looked as tall as a ruler, and the shorts were slit all the way up to the thighs, barely distinguishable from bikini bottoms.
Amid the pounding music, the DJ’s shouts punctuated the air. Jets of confetti burst overhead, paper scraps raining down as strobe lights flashed wildly over the sea of bobbing heads and waving arms…
It was like another world.
And Zhang Shu—what was he doing?
Was he staring at those long legs too?
Sheng Xia set her phone aside and picked up the book by her pillow.
Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself: Within books, there are beauties like jade.
She hadn’t read more than a few lines when a ding sounded—a new message.
She glanced at it.
It was from Song Jiang.
Even without opening it, she could see the brief text: "You asleep?"
Of course not, I’m busy watching you check out girls!
She grumbled inwardly but decided not to reply, turning back to her book instead.
Then came a rapid series of ding-ding-dings , forcing her to check.
Song Jiang: "Probably not, right?"
Song Jiang: "Want to come downstairs?"
Song Jiang: "I’m outside your place."
Sheng Xia sat up straight. He was at her house?
"Weren’t you at the bar?" Was he lying?
Song Jiang: "Came back."
"Why are you here so late?"
Song Jiang: "Missed you."
Song Jiang: "Missed you so much."
Song Jiang: "Wanted to see you."
Had he been drinking? Talking like this…
It was making her ears burn.
"Are you drunk?"
Song Jiang: "..."
Song Jiang: "If I were drunk, I’d be at your door by now—might’ve even knocked already."
Not just loitering downstairs.
Unconsciously, Sheng Xia’s lips curved up. She tossed her phone aside, jumped off the bed, and flung open her wardrobe. Her gaze swept over the contents before she finally pulled out only a light sun jacket, draping it over her nightdress.Tiptoeing past Wang Lianhua's door and reaching the entrance, she turned back to grab the kitchen waste before heading out.
Sure enough, as soon as the door opened, Wang Lianhua called from her room, "What are you doing out so late?"
Sheng Xia: "Taking out the trash."
Wang Lianhua: "Do it tomorrow."
Sheng Xia: "I just broke some eggs. They might stink."
"What were you doing breaking eggs this late?"
Afraid of slipping up if the conversation continued, Sheng Xia quickly closed the door and left.
The moment she stepped out of the building, a figure emerged from the darkness and pulled her into an embrace.
Her heart raced—they'd never hugged so unexpectedly before!
But then she frowned deeply—
The strong smell of alcohol and cigarettes!
A light cough escaped her as she squirmed slightly, only for the arms around her to tighten, making her shoulders ache.
"Zhang Shu!"
"Call me A-Shu," he demanded in a low, domineering voice.
Holding the trash with one hand, she couldn't push him away with the other. "You lied! You've been drinking!"
"I haven't."
"You reek of alcohol! Don't deny it!"
Zhang Shu loosened his grip slightly. As the softness against his chest faded, he belatedly realized—this embrace felt different from that night on the sports field.
So soft. How was she getting even softer?
He lifted his sleeve to sniff himself.
The stench of smoke and alcohol was unmistakable. That's what happened in enclosed spaces—just sitting there left you smelling like it.
Annoying. He'd made sure to clean up before leaving.
"Really didn't drink. Someone spilled it on me," he explained with a frown, utterly exasperated.
Reading his expression, Sheng Xia knew he wasn't lying. She muttered, "Spilled by dancing girls?"
Zhang Shu froze, momentarily confused.
Taking his silence as confirmation, Sheng Xia ignored him and walked past to dispose of the trash.
Following behind, Zhang Shu finally noticed her outfit—a dress visible beneath her cover-up, likely a nightgown, paired with slippers.
The homely attire combined with her pouting face...
Zhang Shu suddenly chuckled. "Do you know what you look like right now?"
After tossing the trash, Sheng Xia turned but remained silent.
Zhang Shu answered himself: "Like... a wife scolding her husband for coming home after carousing."
Sheng Xia stopped in her tracks.
What nonsense!
"Zhang Shu!"
"Hmm?"
"Have you no shame?"
"None."
"..."
Furious, she said, "I'm going back!"
Zhang Shu grabbed her hand. "Don't. I was wrong. I do have shame. Just stay a little longer."
Though the neighborhood was quiet, Sheng Xia remained nervous. Freeing her hand, she whispered, "We're near my place..."
She really was so shy. How could he make her less so?
Zhang Shu nodded in compromise. "Fine. I'll just stand here and look at you."
"We can see each other tomorrow too."
As she looked up, her gaze met his profound eyes, and a piece of her heart instantly crumbled.
Okay, fine. She was wrong. It wasn't the same.
After two days apart, this moment felt entirely different.
"It's different," Zhang Shu said. "Tomorrow we estimate our scores. While everything's still uncertain, I needed to tell you..."
"Sheng Xia, you once said if you get into Heqing University, we'd be together. I disagree."
Disagree.
Her heart felt struck by something, aching sharply.Before she could react, he said slowly, "This kind of thing should be me extending the invitation, but what I want to say is—I want to be with you, regardless of family background, future prospects, or academic performance."
"No matter what scores we estimate tomorrow, no matter how we perform in the final exams, no matter whether we'll be in the same city or the same university in the future—I want you to be with me. If there's distance between us, I'll move toward you. It doesn't matter how far or how long it takes."
"Will you?"
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