“Meng Bai!”
“Zhou An!”
They had agreed beforehand to start with tears upon reuniting.
Meng Bai’s eyes welled up first. She tossed her bicycle aside and rushed over, throwing her arms around Zhou An in a tight hug.
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere! Why did it take you so long to come back?!”
Zhou An hugged her back for a moment and soothed her. “It’s okay. I’m back now.”
“Good that you’re back. Good that you’re back.” Meng Bai wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes. “Where on earth have you been these past few days?”
At the mention of it, Zhou Qiang’s expression flickered subtly. He seemed just as curious about the answer.
At first, he’d suspected she’d holed up at Meng Bai’s house, but watching their reunion now—like it was the first time they’d seen each other since her disappearance—he immediately scrapped that theory.
Zhou An didn’t reply. Instead, she deliberately glanced up at Zhou Qiang, making him feel a pang of guilt.
“Oh, right—that day I went to your house looking for you. Uncle Zhang said you never came home.”
As Meng Bai brought it up, Zhou Qiang tensed visibly, on the verge of cracking.
Zhang Caiyun discreetly squeezed his hand under the table, keeping him silent.
Zhou An answered calmly, “I had a fight with my dad those few days. I ran off in a huff.”
Zhang Caiyun and Zhou Qiang both froze, clearly caught off guard that Zhou An would cover for them like this.
Zhou Qiang let out a quiet breath of relief.
He cut in quickly, “Alright, alright. Meng Bai, don’t you have school today? Auntie Zhang and I will take An’an home first. You girls can catch up another time.”
Meng Bai nodded sensibly. “Okay, then. I’ll head to school.”
“Mm.”
With that, they parted ways.
Zhou Qiang tugged Zhou An toward home.
Meng Bai stood rooted in place, watching the family go until they were out of sight.
Only then did she exhale in relief.
Hopefully, this would ease Zhou Qiang’s suspicions.
She hoped so.
~~~
On the way home, Zhou An shook off Zhou Qiang’s hand.
He tsked in annoyance. “At least you’re smart about it. I thought you’d spill everything to that friend of yours.”
Zhou An shrugged. “I know what to say and what not to. But that all depends on how well our little family gets along.”
It left Zhou Qiang grinding his teeth.
But for now, he was powerless to do much about it.
The priority, he figured, was keeping Zhou An’s mouth shut—at least for the moment. And the kid seemed sharp enough to know what to keep quiet.
“Dad.” Zhou An called him proactively again, then dangled the perfect solution. “We’re family, after all. I know where to draw the line. Some things, I won’t tell Meng Bai.”
Zhang Caiyun jumped in at once. “See? Your daughter’s got a good head on her shoulders.”
Zhou An pressed on. “If you two get in trouble, it won’t be easy for me either. I’ve still got college to worry about, and I need to find a good man to bring in a nice bride price for you.”
Talk of bride price made Zhou Qiang crack a grin despite himself. He nodded. “You know, you’re not wrong.”
Zhang Caiyun blinked in surprise at Zhou An’s cooperation, then lavished praise. “See that, Zhou Qiang? Our girl’s so understanding. The way you acted before—you were out of your mind! How could you do that to such a good daughter?!”
For an instant, Zhou An’s gaze dimmed.
How could he?
Couldn’t they just drop it?
It made her sick.
Every night, the memory still haunted her—that rainy day, perched on the back of the motorcycle, heading to Zhang Gou’s place.
She didn’t buy that devils could turn into angels. Zhou Qiang had done wrong, plain and simple. A devil was a devil.
Still, Zhou An shoved down the nausea and nodded. “Don’t worry. I won’t breathe a word to Meng Bai. I’ll say I just ran away on my own. No mention of Zhang Gou.”
“Good. Dad trusts you.” Zhou Qiang patted her shoulder with shameless sincerity. “Just focus on your studies. When you make it big, don’t forget your mom and me. We can act like none of this ever happened. We’re still a family.”
Act like it never happened.
Hah.
Zhou An played along. “Mm, sure. I’ll be good.”
Zhang Caiyun, who had gone quiet, stepped forward and took Zhou An’s hand, pulling her aside. “An’an, about what your dad did—I never agreed to it. Mom loves you. And I won’t gamble anymore.”
Zhou An let the words slide right past her but nodded anyway. “Got it, got it.”
To ease her own guilt, Zhang Caiyun even fished out two hundred-yuan bills and stuffed them into Zhou An’s pocket. “Here, use this for yourself. No need to stand on ceremony.”
Zhou An accepted the cash.
How absurd. In eighteen years, she’d never taken a dime from these two.
She’d fantasized about it plenty of times—what it might take for Zhou Qiang and Zhang Caiyun to hand her money. The day she got into her top-choice university, maybe. Or the day she left the Small Town behind.
Never had she imagined her first payout would be hush money.
“Then we’re calling this settled!”
~~~
Everything settled back into mundane routine, as if nothing had ever gone awry.
That afternoon, Zhou An headed to school.
She’d barely stepped into the classroom when it burst into an uproar. Classmates swarmed her, peppering her with questions. She answered them all—but vaguely, every time.
From a corner of the room, Xu Zhou watched Zhou An steadily, though she didn’t come over.
Li Yue asked, “So where were you all these days?”
Zhou An just smiled enigmatically at the question. She couldn’t give them a straight answer.
Teacher Xu was a topic she would never touch.
“Never mind. You probably can’t say. We won’t push. But no more running off like that, okay?”
The girls in the class stuck together pretty well, and everyone got along. Zhou An nodded along agreeably to whatever they said.
“Yeah, Zhou An—did you hear? While you were gone, GM Engineering decided to sponsor us all for college!”
Zhou An’s smile faltered briefly. She shot a sidelong glance at Meng Bai before replying, “So everyone’s taking their sponsorship?”
“Of course! Uncle Zhang’s a great guy!” Li Yue beamed. “We’ve got the Senior Year 3 list all drawn up already—Meng Bai’s on it. Now that you’re back, I’m sure the principal will add you in.”
Another classmate chimed in. “Then we can all hit cram school together!”
“Tutoring?” Zhou An furrowed her brow and glanced at Meng Bai, who looked just as clueless.
Lately, Meng Bai had been too busy to keep up with this sort of thing.
“Uncle Zhang said we can take the bus into the city every Saturday for lessons.”
“Into the city?” Zhou An shot another look at Meng Bai. Their eyes met, instant understanding passing between them.
What was this nonsense? Tutoring that required a trip to the city? Zhang Gou’s intentions were crystal clear.
“Anyway, it’s happening tomorrow. We’ll just go along on the bus together.”
Right—tomorrow was Saturday.
“So, are you going, Zhou An?”
“Of course I am. If the principal says go, I go.”
After a bit more back-and-forth, they finally got the full picture.
Zhang Gou had organized this so-called Tier 1 Sprint Class, pulling together the grade’s top students into one group. GM Engineering was footing the bill, chartering a bus every Saturday to shuttle them to an old campus in the city for extra classes.
Average students could apply too, of course.
Everything was free, lunch included.
Thanks ever so much, Mr. Zhang. All that effort, pouring heart and soul into grooming talent for the Small Town’s future.
As their classmates kept chattering away, Zhou An and Meng Bai gradually fell quiet. They slipped out of the crowd and headed for the classroom door…
~~~
Outside the classroom, Meng Bai and Zhou An leaned side by side on the balcony railing. Just ten meters away lay the sports field, where a group of boys were shooting hoops.
“What do we do?” Zhou An asked.
“We’ll tag along tomorrow and see what’s what. Can’t decide without checking it out.” Meng Bai’s voice carried a note of dejection—probably from seeing how many people actually liked Zhang Gou.
It was irritating.
“Oh, right—my dad’s put his suspicions to rest. He and Zhang Caiyun won’t doubt you anymore. Just keep playing along.” Here, Zhou An fished two hundred-yuan bills from her pocket. “He even slipped me two hundred as hush money.”
Meng Bai glanced down at the pair of hundreds.
She gave a wry smile.
Meng Bai was well aware of how strapped for cash Zhou An usually was. Pocket money had always been scarce.
Which made these two hundred stick out like a sore thumb—absurdly so.
“Guess they’re really terrified you’ll spill.”
“So I’ll keep up the act with them. Makes it easier for us to move when the time comes.” Zhou An lowered her voice, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “So, how do we blow this cash? Feast on snacks? Pick up something fun?”
“Let’s hang onto it for now. Could come in handy one day.”
“Fair enough.” Zhou An tucked the money away and peered back into the classroom. Casually, she spotted Xu Zhou in the back row, staring right at her.
??
Zhou An found it baffling. Staring for what? If she had something to say, come say it. What was with the hesitant act?
She looked away and turned to Meng Bai. “Why’s Xu Zhou staring at me?”
Meng Bai twisted around to check, but Xu Zhou had already looked elsewhere. “She’s not.”
“She totally was!” Zhou An frowned. “Don’t you think she’s super weird? Just… odd.”
Meng Bai shrugged it off. “Weird how? I don’t pay her much mind usually.”
“She’s always staring at me! But she never says a word.” That was Zhou An’s takeaway—Xu Zhou watching her, watching constantly.
It had started last semester. Zhou An hadn’t gone out of her way to notice, but she’d get this prickling sense of being observed.
During PE class, lunch in the cafeteria, morning self-study, or just breaks.
Their eyes would meet in those fleeting moments.
“Does she ever stare at you like that?”
Meng Bai shook her head. “Never. Only once—after you vanished, she slipped me a note.”
“She slipped you a note too!”
Meng Bai nodded. “Yeah. She was worried about you.”
Sudden realization dawned on Zhou An. No wonder—on that rainy day, Xu Zhou had dashed over to pass her a signal. Thinking back, she owed Xu Zhou for that.
“Should I thank her, then? Like, face-to-face?”
“Absolutely. She deserves credit for pitching in.”
“Got it. I’ll go talk to her.”
Zhou An didn’t waste time on words—she turned and marched back into the classroom.
Meng Bai lingered on the balcony, twisting to watch the pair.
She saw Zhou An stride right up to Xu Zhou’s desk and stop.
Amid the classroom’s buzz of chatter, Zhou An leaned down and murmured something to her.
Xu Zhou went rigid in an instant, nothing like her usual cool, aloof vibe.
Meng Bai couldn’t make out the words, but the shift in Xu Zhou’s expression was plain as day.
From her vantage, Xu Zhou drew a quick breath, visibly tense. As Zhou An spoke, she pressed her lips together, scratched at her ear, her face uncertain—before giving a small nod.
But that wasn’t what caught Meng Bai’s eye.
What did was their profiles, clear as could be from her angle.
Xu Zhou’s ear tips flushed pink, the color creeping down her neck.
How peculiar.
What on earth had she said to fluster her like that?
