Chapter 31

Wu Yang’s words gradually seeped into Jian Shichu’s heart, slowly surging through her meridians unhurriedly.

It was only six o’clock, but the sky had already begun to darken. Thick clouds pressed against the high-rises. It was only after Wu Yang left that Wen Zhixu turned around.

As soon as Jian Shichu came out, there was no expression on her face. She stood at the door as if pondering something. She went up to her and asked, “How did it go?”

Jian Shichu didn’t speak at first. After pausing for a few seconds, she turned her head to look at her. Amid her ordinarily calm gaze, there was now a hint of something different.

An indescribable feeling—like the attachment and tenderness of migratory birds returning to their nest, or the beautiful tranquility of a sunset over a long river.

“Are you hungry?” Jian Shichu relaxed her tone, drew in a breath, and glanced at the sky. It looked like rain was coming.

Wen Zhixu furrowed her brows. “Did he say something nasty?”

The people passing by seemed able to sense the impending stormy weather and quickened their steps as they walked, running against the wind.

Jian Shichu’s gaze drifted downward. A patch on Wen Zhixu’s pants was wet, the marks still visible, with bits of tissue clinging to her jeans that hadn’t been shaken off.

“No, sit.” Jian Shichu had her sit on the chair, then slowly squatted down with a cool expression. She pulled a wet wipe from her bag and helped clean the tissue bits off her pants.

Wen Zhixu froze. The surprise in her eyes soon turned back to her usual composure. The wet wipe rubbing against the fabric was a little itchy. She looked at Jian Shichu’s lowered eyelids, and her heart gave a tug—sour and astringent.

“I’ll take you home first to change clothes, then out to eat.” As Jian Shichu stood up, she grasped her hand. Her fingertips still bore water stains from the wet wipe.

Wen Zhixu sensed something off about Jian Shichu. She pulled her hand away a bit awkwardly and said, “Forget it, too much trouble. Let’s just grab something casual.”

“If you don’t want to go home, I’ll take you to Mid-Mountain Restaurant. You can wear my clothes.” Jian Shichu’s tone had softened considerably.

Wen Zhixu stared at her with clear, shallow eyes and gave a compromising hum. “I need to head home early.”

Jian Shichu agreed. On the way to the garage, she didn’t touch her again. Wen Zhixu occasionally observed Jian Shichu’s expression. Nothing seemed to have changed along the way.

It wasn’t full night yet, but heavy rain fell not long after they drove out of the garage—first small raindrops smacking the car window, then a torrent that swallowed the dim lights.

They hit traffic midway, which delayed them some time.

Mid-Mountain was far up the road, where you couldn’t hail cabs and ride-shares took forever to pick up even one order. With this rain, the temperature plunged sharply too.

By the time they headed up the mountain, it was pitch black. Wen Zhixu gazed at the sparse lights in the distance—so few. Far from the bustling district, the sound of rain grew ever more pronounced.

Suddenly, Wen Zhixu felt Jian Shichu stop the car. She turned her attention back to the car interior. “What’s wrong?”

The headlights were on, the car pulled to one side against the mountainside. Jian Shichu stared ahead, the wipers scraping across the glass one after another. Her voice was flat. “That person just now looked familiar.”

It was another two kilometers to the restaurant. Judging by the speed of the raindrops pounding down, Wen Zhixu looked at her through a haze of mist. “It’s pouring outside. Could it be a restaurant employee?”

Employees at Mid-Mountain Restaurant usually lived up there, so it wasn’t strange to run into one two kilometers out.

Wen Zhixu hadn’t noticed earlier. The rearview mirror showed nothing. Jian Shichu glanced sideways again, and in the rearview, she spotted Ni You—completely drenched, arms hugged around herself, her soaked figure looking frail and thin.

Jian Shichu’s gaze sharpened as she pushed open the car door, her tone sinking slightly. “It’s Ni You.”

She got out into the rain.

Wen Zhixu opened the foldable umbrella she carried and got out from the passenger side, following behind Jian Shichu. Ni You looked utterly bedraggled in the downpour amid the wilderness, like a fledgling eagle fallen from its nest and met with hardship.

“Why are you here?” Jian Shichu’s clothes were devoured by the rain. Wen Zhixu held the umbrella over her, so the rainwater could only splash up along the road toward her pant legs.

The flicker of surprise on Ni You’s face dimmed the instant she saw Wen Zhixu. She said nothing and just shook her head, wiping the water droplets from her face with her soaked sleeve.

Jian Shichu didn’t press. She glanced at Wen Zhixu, who said nothing and shifted her gaze away. The three of them stood there in the rainy night, letting the dampness seep through their clothes.

Jian Shichu’s breathing hitched for a moment. “Get in the car first.”

It wasn’t the moment to pry into the whole story. Wen Zhixu had no intention of piping up.

No one spoke in the car. Jian Shichu’s clothes were soaked, and water dripped from the tips of Ni You’s hair. Wen Zhixu handed her some tissues.

Under the lonely lamp of the long night, warmth finally came once they reached the restaurant. But the rain left her psychologically uneasy—sour and unbearable, like chewing an unripe persimmon, all dry astringency with no swallowing it down.

Wen Zhixu was wearing Jian Shichu’s clothes: a simple shirt-fabric long skirt styled with waist-gathering pleats.

After changing, she was led straight to the private room to sit. The dishes had been pre-ordered. The room overlooked the courtyard, where she could hear big raindrops smacking the branches and water pouring from the eaves into the stone cracks.

After her shower, Ni You had changed into Jian Shichu’s clothes too. With her hair blow-dried, she sat on a chair in the tea room, phone charging, not a drop of color in her face.

At the sound of footsteps, she instinctively looked up—and her eyes met Jian Shichu’s exactly. She held a cup in hand, her steps not slowing a bit.

“Drink the medicine.” Jian Shichu set the cup down on the side table with a clink.

“What’s the deal with you?”

Jian Shichu’s tone was casual as she asked, her attitude indifferent yet straightforward—just a simple inquiry into how she’d ended up there. It wasn’t concern or accusation. Without the buffer of guest status, Ni You didn’t even seem like a passerby to her.

Ni You held the cup, her left palm pressed against it to feel the warmth, and answered with her head down. “I came to find you. We argued midway with the driver, so I got out.”

Ni You’s temperament was proud and haughty, intolerant of any grievance. No matter the situation or occasion, if she wasn’t happy, not even the king of heaven or her own father could force her to swallow it.

Jian Shichu leaned against the small table on the east side, the room’s lights draping over her like a layer of gauze. She listened intently and understood.

She looked at Ni You without any particular emotion, paused for half a second, and said, “Ni You, this is the middle of nowhere with not even a streetlamp, and it’s pouring rain. Can you use your brain when you do things?”

“You weren’t picking up my calls. I had no other choice.” Ni You’s eyes stung. As she lowered them, she sniffled—the grievance clear in her voice.

She truly had no way to reach Jian Shichu. As long as she avoided her, she couldn’t find her. Hearing this, Wen Zhixu unexpectedly felt a sense of shared pain.

That year, she had searched for Jian Shichu too, but never found her. Afterward, she had asked herself that question countless times: if she’d been forgiven, would she have followed without hesitation? It was a question that had haunted her for five years.

“Drink the medicine. I’ll have someone send you back later.” Jian Shichu skirted her topic and stuck to the essentials.

Ni You stood up with the medicine in hand. The tea room’s light was too dim; Jian Shichu fiddled with the lights using one hand and switched it to the brightest setting.

And just like that, she slowly turned to look at Ni You—the light perfectly illuminating the girl’s features.

That was when she noticed the scrape on Ni You’s elbow. After being rinsed with hot water, it was glossy on top, the wound festering with pus.

“Sit down. I’ll get you some medicine.” Jian Shichu said this as she went to fetch it from nearby. In her eyes, Ni You was just a kid—reckless and thoughtless in her actions.

Ni You pressed on. “You wipe it for me.”

“Drink the medicine.” Jian Shichu didn’t respond to that, turning instead toward the corner. She squatted down and rummaged through the cabinet for the medicine kit.

Wen Zhixu, standing outside the door, heard up to this point. She quickened her steps to leave. She wanted to hear the rest but was afraid to; there was nothing particularly off about it, she just felt unwell.

She wasn’t the type to eavesdrop, but having reached this point, she didn’t dare show her face. From her vantage, if she hadn’t appeared, they probably wouldn’t be talking like this.

Jian Shichu set the medicine kit on the table and took out a cotton swab and iodine.

After finishing the medicine, Ni You set the cup down first, let out a breath, and looked at her. “I came here just to ask one question. Sister Bai Xue told me everything—that day, the one who came was your ex…”

Ni You paused there, her breath short, unable to get the rest out for a moment as the earlier chill slowly crept back over her.

Jian Shichu’s movements gradually slowed amid her words. She tore open the cotton swab packaging, seemingly listening to Ni You very seriously.

Ni You took a deep breath and finished. “I’ve thought about it for days. I keep feeling like I’m just one step away. I know there’s a big age gap between us right now. I’m still at that immature age—you can’t talk future with me. You’d think I haven’t experienced society, haven’t seen all the varieties of the outside world, too many uncertainties.”

“Jian Shichu, I like how straightforward you are—no playing around with ambiguity, rejecting cleanly. If you don’t like me, there’s nothing I can do. I just want to ask: if she hadn’t come back, would you have liked me?”

Those words seemed to drain Ni You completely. Her eyes were red, brimming with tears that swirled in her sockets before spilling onto her face with her breaths.

Jian Shichu fell silent for a moment as she considered the question, her attitude softening a touch. She dipped the cotton swab in iodine and only then looked at Ni You as she replied, “No.”

This answer was the same as what Ni You had said—straightforward and open. This was her, Ni You. She knew Jian Shichu would say this; she wouldn’t even give the slightest expectation, nor would she give an ambiguous response just to bask in her pursuit.

Actually, when she had long anticipated this answer, Ni You could keep her composure too. After shedding a few tears, she wiped them away with the back of her hand.

Jian Shichu came to her side. “Do it yourself, or shall I?”

Ni You didn’t move. After catching her breath, she took the cotton swab from Jian Shichu’s hand without a word, her uneven breathing from the discomfort still hard to control.

Jian Shichu took the band-aid out of the medicine box and set it aside, then packed up the rest of the items.

The medicine box was locked in the cabinet in the farthest corner of the tea room. Guests usually rested here before and after meals. She squatted down and stowed the box away.

The moment the door clicked shut, Ni You’s voice sounded in her ear. “I met her last time. We talked for a long time.”

Jian Shichu froze. A second later, she composed herself and appeared perfectly calm. Ni You had met Wen Zhixu—and she hadn’t heard even a whisper about it.