Chapter 25 Part 1: Commemorative Gift 

Fog.

The midday sun was scorching like molten lava, and the commercial street was filled with waves of hot air wafting from air conditioner units.

Hua Lingyue glanced at Qi Chen and Xie Qiaoqiao walking to her left. Her gaze then shifted sideways and caught sight of Zhang Xueji standing next to Xie Qiaoqiao.

He was carrying a single-shoulder bag. Originally, the hand closest to Xie Qiaoqiao—the right hand—was holding a Coke Zero, but now he had switched it to his left hand.

That left his right hand, which naturally hung by his side, free to rest against Xie Qiaoqiao’s equally empty left hand.

Zhang Xueji asked Xie Qiaoqiao if she wanted any Coke Zero. She shook her head, so he twisted open the bottle and took a sip himself, glancing briefly at the cap before sighing regretfully: “No prize this time.”

Xie Qiaoqiao glanced at his messy, stray-dog-like aura and calmly replied, “That’s only natural.”

Zhang Xueji said, “I should have let you pick the bottle from the start.”

Xie Qiaoqiao: “Even if you had, the outcome wouldn’t have changed.”

Zhang Xueji smiled lightly, saying nothing more. The fizz from the opened Coke Zero emitted its characteristic carbonated scent, drifting and swirling in the hot wind.

Their conversation was just a few sentences, but Hua Lingyue’s radar was buzzing—she keenly sensed the shift in atmosphere and caught with the corner of her eye the line of boys and girls walking side by side.

Qi Chen was staring at his phone, Xie Qiaoqiao was watching the road, and Zhang Xueji, deliberately walking on the outer edge, had cheeks flushed slightly red from the sun.

When he spoke, he kept his face turned toward Xie Qiaoqiao, his head slightly bowed.

After speaking, he didn’t shift his gaze away, though his nodding was less obvious.

Something was off.

Very off.

Alarm bells blared in Hua Lingyue’s mind. She glanced at Qi Chen, still absorbed in his phone, and an almost helpless frustration swelled in her heart.

She couldn’t help but nudge Qi Chen’s arm.

She almost made him drop his phone.

He looked up at her, puzzled. “What’s up?”

Hua Lingyue smiled. “I have to work this afternoon, so I’m heading back to the unit first. You escort Qiaoqiao home—remember to see her off at the unit’s gate.”

Qi Chen was baffled. “Me? Escort her? That’s not on the way for me—I live in the dormitory.”

Hua Lingyue asked, “Dormitory? Are you a student at Nanjing University too?”

Zhang Xueji leaned in curiously. “Are you?”

Qi Chen shook his head. “I’m at Nanjing University of the Arts.”

Zhang Xueji’s eyes curved into a friendly smile, harmless and warm. “That is quite out of the way. Are you and Qiaoqiao… relatives?”

Qi Chen thought for a moment, then replied, “Part-time colleagues. We were also high school deskmates.”

“Oh,” Zhang Xueji said, suddenly understanding. He naturally switched places with Xie Qiaoqiao, standing between her and Qi Chen, creating a barrier.

“My name’s Zhang Xueji. I’m Qiaoqiao’s neighbor and also a classmate—we’re both from Nanjing University.”

For some reason, the pace of the conversation fell into Zhang Xueji’s hands.

Qi Chen followed along, slightly dazed, feeling that this neighbor of Xie Qiaoqiao’s was… rather friendly and enthusiastic.

While talking, Zhang Xueji pulled a parasol out of his single-shoulder bag and opened it, tilting it to shade Xie Qiaoqiao.

Hua Lingyue looked up at the clear sky.

She no longer had the energy to be frustrated with Qi Chen, only thinking that he was a hopeless blockhead.

“Whatever you two want,” Hua Lingyue said weakly, “I’m going to the subway station up ahead. Bye.”

Zhang Xueji smiled warmly and waved. “Bye, Sister Qiaoqiao—”

Xie Qiaoqiao was heading home. Zhang Xueji had no classes that afternoon and was going home too. There was no direct subway line from here to their neighborhood, but there was a bus.

By luck, they caught a bus with plenty of empty seats in the back row. Xie Qiaoqiao picked a window seat, and Zhang Xueji put away his umbrella and sat down beside her.

Though the bus’s air conditioning was on, the windows still felt scorching from the sun.

After sitting down, Zhang Xueji rummaged through his backpack and asked Xie Qiaoqiao, “Want a plum?”

Xie Qiaoqiao: “Sure.”

He pulled out two plums from his bag—despite the heat, the plums from Zhang Xueji’s backpack were surprisingly cool and exceptionally sweet.

Because of the sweetness, when she bit into one, Xie Qiaoqiao glanced down at it in surprise, her cheek puffing out with half-bitten plum flesh stuck in her mouth.

Zhang Xueji lowered his head to organize his bag’s contents and asked casually, “That Qi Chen—is he the colleague you brought the corpse back with?”

Xie Qiaoqiao responded with a hesitant “Mm…”

Her reply lacked conviction; she was still wondering how such an ordinary-looking plum could taste so sweet.

Zhang Xueji furrowed his brows, then quickly relaxed them and pretended not to care, zipping up his bag with a swipe.

He mumbled under his breath, “Tall, burly guy… how could he let a little girl like you carry the corpse back all by yourself?”

Xie Qiaoqiao explained, “He had a concussion, couldn’t get up. And I wasn’t alone; Hua Lingyue was with me…”

Halfway through, she stopped and then frowned. “That’s confidential information. Why do you keep asking such dangerous questions?”

Zhang Xueji turned his face toward her. “Hua Lingyue is your older sister who takes you out to eat… you’re not blood-related, right?”

Xie Qiaoqiao lifted her head, staring at Zhang Xueji unblinkingly.

Her dark pupils and sharply defined features were intimidating, but Zhang Xueji held her gaze.

The two just stared at each other.

Her look was far from friendly—it was the sudden alertness of someone offended, like a big cat’s tail bristling, a sign of impending attack.

But Zhang Xueji remained calm and kind, even with a light, inviting smile.

Just then, the bus hit a speed bump, jolting the vehicle.

Xie Qiaoqiao was lifted slightly from her seat and blinked.

Zhang Xueji reached out in front of her, steadying her before she could hit the railing.

She glanced down at his arm blocking her path. Once the bus returned to smooth driving, Zhang Xueji immediately pulled his arm back.

The tense atmosphere dissipated thanks to that sudden jolt. Xie Qiaoqiao turned to look out the window as the street scene blurred behind them, still holding a plum.

Zhang Xueji stopped probing into her relationships and switched topics as if nothing had happened.

“Although my ancestral home is in Yue Dong, my parents work away from home most of the time. They hardly come back.”

“So I was raised by my eldest uncle. In middle school, I skipped a grade for good grades, then got admitted to the Youth Class straight out of high school and started living in the dormitory.”

“I studied in the Youth Class for two years but found dorm life inconvenient, so I applied to be a day student and bought a place off-campus.”

Xie Qiaoqiao: “The unit on the 27th floor?”

Zhang Xueji smiled. “Not that one—another unit. I wanted a yard so I could have a dog, so I bought a little villa. I have a little dog—”

Xie Qiaoqiao thought of his WeChat avatar. “A Maltese?”

Zhang Xueji nodded. “Yeah, her name’s Arrietty.”

Xie Qiaoqiao had never seen a dog around Zhang Xueji, and he didn’t seem like the type to abandon a pet.

“Is the Maltese dead?”

“No, not at all,” Zhang Xueji took out his phone to show her a photo. “She’s with my grandfather.”

“Arrietty’s a sensitive, delicate kid who needs constant companionship. But after starting graduate school, I got too busy to spend time with her, so I sent her to my grandfather’s place.”

On the screen, the fluffy white dog with an apple hairstyle was running on the lawn.

Zhang Xueji swiped through more pictures: Arrietty on a skateboard, lying on an open windowsill napping.

The bus arrived at their stop. Zhang Xueji put away his phone, and they got off together. Xie Qiaoqiao finished the last plum.

The neighborhood’s tree-lined path was cooler—at least the breeze was refreshingly cool, not the sauna-like hot air from the AC units.

Zhang Xueji walked with his hands in his pockets, stepping briskly to catch up with Xie Qiaoqiao, eyes still smiling. “So? How is it?”

Xie Qiaoqiao: “How’s what?”

Zhang Xueji circled in front of her, crouching to meet her gaze. “Getting to know other people’s feelings—not as bad as you imagined, right?”