Jing Sicun hadn’t slept at all, just closed his eyes to rest.
When Ke Lin stepped through the grocery store door while talking on the phone, he could already tell it was her voice.
When they parted ways downstairs from the program team that afternoon, Ke Ni’s mood was obviously terrible.
So bad that she could barely keep up even the pretense of politeness.
Jing Sicun didn’t know what was weighing on Ke Ni’s mind, only that he saw her eyelashes trembling, her gaze hollow and unfocused as she stared at his face, but wasn’t really looking at him at all.
In the end, Ke Ni got into a cab without a word, and left without a word as well…
When Ke Lin was running tap water into the hot water kettle, Jing Sicun took off his baseball cap and glanced at Ke Ni.
Ke Ni had wiped off the heavy makeup from her promo shoot, her face now clean and plain, her thick, long hair falling softly over her shoulders.
She’d changed into a bright dress, the color vivid, like a tulip—the same color as the tulips blooming at the grocery store entrance.
Ke Ni was shrouded in gloom, listless and unhappy, even more like a tulip blooming under overcast skies.
The grocery store wasn’t big, so Jing Sicun could tell Ke Lin was on the phone with someone close.
He’d thought she’d at least share her troubles with someone she trusted…
But all he heard in that phone call was Ke Ni forcing herself to act strong.
The kettle started to hiss. She pulled out a pack of hot and sour beef noodles and a sausage from the shelf, and said in a “cheerful” tone, “Let’s talk again later.”
Before Ke Lin could turn around, Jing Sicun put his baseball cap back on.
Ke Ni didn’t know her rented place was right near the grocery store.
Ke Lin had once asked Jing Sicun if he wanted to tell Ke Ni about the grocery store.
Jing Sicun had said there was no need.
He hadn’t brought it up before, and it would be awkward to suddenly appear now—especially with Ke Ni in such a low mood.
They weren’t close, so there was no reason for Jing Sicun to show up at a time like this and embarrass her.
He closed his eyes, recalling the question Ke Lin had asked him in front of the building’s revolving doors—
A very basic matchstick math puzzle.
The kind you’d get in elementary school math olympiad or logic development classes. The teacher might even use it in a trial class with parents present.
So the students and their parents would be amazed together.
While sparking the kids’ enthusiasm, it also planted the idea in parents’ minds that “math olympiad” or “logic development” was extremely important.
Why was Ke Lin hung up on this kind of question?
During the first round of auditions, Jing Sicun had seen Ke Lin in action.
Her hands trembled a bit, and she wasn’t very happy, but her calculation and memory were still quite strong.
Especially in the last competition—if it came down to He Zhi versus Ke Ni, there was a real chance she could lose.
A matchstick question of this level…
There was no way Ke Ni couldn’t solve it.
Yet her eyes were full of tangled emotions, as if she were grappling with a life-or-death dilemma.
The neighbor auntie came by with frozen dumplings, accidentally revealing the fact that Jing Sicun was at the grocery store.
Jing Sicun sighed and had no choice but to get up.
Ke Ni sat on the steps at the entrance, her back to them.
While talking with the auntie, Jing Sicun caught the faint sound of someone sniffling.
How could she still be crying?
Jing Sicun knew Ke Ni definitely wouldn’t appreciate it, but he still took a can of beer from the fridge and handed it over.
Ke Ni, as expected, didn’t appreciate it.
Her eyelashes were still wet, eyes red and swollen, as she stared at the beer can quickly frosting over, then suddenly looked up and glared fiercely at Jing Sicun.
She snapped, “Why are you everywhere?!”
There was a wooden table at the grocery store entrance with a Go board on it.
Jing Sicun set the beer down on the board, withdrew his hand, and lazily leaned back in his chair.
He pointed at the grocery store’s wall: “This shop belongs to my family.”
Ke Ni took a couple of seconds to process, then suddenly whipped her head around to look at the wall—
On the yellowed wall, there were equally yellowed papers:
Promotional posters from drink companies, newspaper clippings, a few photographs…
And sure enough, one of them was a picture of Jing Sicun holding a trophy from a brainpower TV show.
Looking closely, even the densely printed newspaper featured a childhood photo of Jing Sicun on television.
That infuriating face!
Ke Ni took a deep breath, looking like she was muttering a very satisfying curse under her breath.
Jing Sicun noticed.
It wasn’t the kind of sulky, challenging glare from the auditions, nor the burst of frustration upon realizing she’d called the wrong person.
Right now, Ke Ni’s mood was more like…
She was so furious she wanted to silence him for good.
Jing Sicun stuck both hands in his pockets, leaned against the chair, and silently raised his chin.
Rainwater dripped steadily from the eaves, the streetlamp at the end of the narrow alley half-hidden in the damp mist.
The two of them sat quietly outside the grocery store, enveloped in a long, heavy silence.
Ke Ni was deeply annoyed.
Of all people to run into, why did it have to be Jing Sicun?
Could this situation be any worse? Wasn’t she just handing her embarrassment to someone she hated?
Jing Sicun lifted the lid of the wooden box and took out the black Go stones.
It had just rained, and the steps were damp.
He reminded Ke Ni, “There’s a chair over there if you want to sit.”
The last thing Ke Ni wanted to hear right now was Jing Sicun’s calm, in-control tone: “Did I ask you?!”
Jing Sicun chuckled, took out a few white stones, and started playing Go against himself.
Ke Ni wanted to mess up the board.
But she had no right—after all, everything here belonged to Jing Sicun’s family.
Why did he always have all the good things?
Ke Lin dragged over a small stool for herself, sitting across the board from Jing Sicun.
She glanced at the beer on the edge of the Go board.
Condensation was already dripping down the metal can, seeping into the intersecting lines of the board.
Well, it was already open.
Ke Lin picked up the beer and downed the whole can in one go: “Jing Sicun, you heard everything, didn’t you?”
The grocery store was only so big—even if Ke Ni had lowered her voice so as not to wake anyone…
Jing Sicun wasn’t deaf.
Ke Lin knew Jing Sicun could hear, including the cheerful, well-behaved, and agreeable front she put on.
Jing Sicun asked, “You planning to silence me?”
Ke Ni glared at Jing Sicun, took a deep breath, and crushed the beer can in her hand with a sharp crack.
Jing Sicun just smiled: “Drink your beer. I won’t ask, and I won’t tell anyone.”
Ke Ni pressed the beer can down in the center of the Go board: “You’d better not.”
Jing Sicun placed a white stone next to the beer can.
He reached out, his fingertip lightly brushing the side of Ke Ni’s thumb nail: “Otherwise, should I tell Song Yi?”
Jing Sicun’s touch was fleeting, and he immediately picked up another stone from the wooden box.
The tiny cut there didn’t hurt anymore, Ke Ni only felt her finger tingle slightly.
She pulled her hand back warily: “Are you…threatening me?”
Jing Sicun laughed: “You could say that.”
And it worked.
Ke Lin knew herself well. If it hadn’t been Jing Sicun she ran into tonight but Song Yi…
Or if He Zhi had stuck around a bit longer in the afternoon, all of this would’ve gotten back to Song Yi.
With Song Yi’s judgmental, nosy, and extremely extroverted personality, she’d definitely start interrogating her, never giving her a moment’s peace.
She might even force-feed her a pot of Song Yi’s chicken soup for the soul…
Better to have run into Jing Sicun.
At least he was quiet.
But why was Jing Sicun reminding her about this now?
A threat?
Some other warning?
Ke Lin frowned: “Am I supposed to thank you?”
Jing Sicun said, “No need.”
Ugh!
She’d never met anyone so shameless!
So infuriating! So infuriating, so infuriating!
Ke Ni was so angry, all the gloom that had been weighing on her heart was blown away.
Now her mind was full of just one thing: “Take down Jing Sicun.”
She could have gotten up and left, putting distance between herself and the annoying Jing Sicun.
But she didn’t.
For some reason, she just sat by the Go board, listening to the sound of rain dripping from the eaves and Jing Sicun placing stones, finishing off the beer in her hand.
The stray cats that often showed up at the store entrance also came over, meowing and rubbing against Jing Sicun’s pant leg, even trying to climb onto him.
One of the calico cats was very small, probably born that spring.
It hooked its claws into Jing Sicun’s shirt, climbing all the way up to his straight, lean shoulder, and, unsatisfied, tried to go higher, aiming for his baseball cap.
Jing Sicun was holding a white stone, deep in thought, when the kitten’s claws grazed the edge of his ear.
The spot turned a bit red.
Ke Ni noticed Jing Sicun tilt his head slightly.
She worried he’d be annoyed by the kitten’s unruly antics, and watched him closely.
“So much energy—are you hungry?”