What could she say? Ask why, back then, after everyone had already left, he still mailed the dress back to her?

Meng Yanxi wouldn’t be short one dress from her. What he was probably short of was someone who would trample on his goodwill like that. Which also made it not hard to explain those occasional unfriendly emotions he showed toward her after their reunion.

For instance, last time, when he dropped her off at Luxi’s entrance and made her walk for half an hour herself; and like now—after asking for the address, he didn’t pay her any further attention, closing his eyes and going to sleep on his own.

Raindrops thudded dully against the car roof. The faint smell of alcohol in the air mixed with that cold mountain pine-mist scent, and within the original distance, there suddenly emerged a bewitching allure that muddled the senses.

After all these years without seeing him, he was still so good-looking. No—he should be even better-looking now.

Compared to the boy he used to be, his features were more defined and sharp; his nose bridge seemed higher too. His brows were thick, his lips a little thin, yet they looked soft. Jin Zhao’s gaze involuntarily fell on his lips.

Time seemed to be suddenly stolen away at that moment. When she came back to herself, she shifted her eyes away in slight panic.

Rainy days were a bit chilly, but perhaps because he had been drinking and felt warm, the top three buttons of his shirt were undone. As he propped his arm, from her angle she could see the taut, powerful lean muscles of his chest.

Even in his youth, his muscle lines had been beautiful. She still remembered him wearing a T-shirt, the fabric clinging faintly to his body in the wind, vaguely revealing his abs. And now, his muscle lines were as good as before—only with an added sensuality.

Perhaps he had matured, or perhaps she had. Now, as she admired his beauty, there was no longer that pure, unthinking innocence of youth.

She stared at the back of his hand, veined with blue, stared at his unusually long fingers, and some unrestrained descriptions from certain kinds of literature brazenly barged into her mind. Her heart raced wildly, blood uncontrollably rushing to her cheeks.

She hurriedly turned her head, took a deep breath, and stared at the rain outside the window, forcing herself to calm down.

Soothing English music was playing inside the car. In the sound of rain, Amy Sky’s voice was magnetic and low—

And like a rose 

in amber’s dawn 

waits for the dew 

I long for you 

And like a river 

in twilight’s hush 

is still and blue 

I long for you 

…

Thirty-five minutes later, the car stopped at the entrance of Lanshan Garden. Meng Yanxi, who had been resting with his eyes closed the entire way, opened them at the same time.

She didn’t know whether the rain had stopped or if it was because this place was too far from the city center—there was no rain here. The road was still wet, though, and the clouds overhead were very thick, so much so that even though it was only five o’clock, the light was dim and dark, making it look as though night was about to fall.

His timely awakening eased Jin Zhao’s awkwardness. Just moments ago, she had still been agonizing over whether she should quietly get out on her own or wake him first.

Waking a drunk person didn’t seem very polite, but he had gone so far out of his way to drive her here—if she left without a word, slipping away without saying goodbye, it would be like repeating the mistakes of the past. Not only impolite, but also undignified.

“I’m here,” Jin Zhao turned to bid him farewell. “Thank you for today.”

Meng Yanxi only opened his eyes, still maintaining the posture of propping his elbow with one hand. The light inside the car was dim; his gaze was dark as he looked at her quietly, without speaking.

Jin Zhao assumed he was still not fully awake. She smiled and said to him, “Goodbye.”

As she pushed open the car door, behind her, Meng Yanxi finally spoke: “Don’t go on blind dates with this kind of person again.”

She turned her head.

“If you’re in a hurry to get married,” Meng Yanxi sat up straight and slowly tugged at his collar, “you can look for me.”

The door handle under her fingertips suddenly felt scalding hot. Jin Zhao’s fingers trembled, her eyes widening unconsciously.

It was as if the rain just now had washed her eyes clean as well; a moist sheen gathered at the corners of her eyes.

Their gazes met. Time briefly came to a halt, and along with it, it seemed even their breathing paused.

Until Jin Zhao heard Meng Yanxi fall silent for a few seconds, then continue in an unhurried tone, “I can introduce you to better people.”

It was like the moment an airplane hits turbulence—the sudden weightlessness of a sharp drop. Yet it didn’t quite count as disappointment, just something entirely unexpected. On second thought, though, it wasn’t all that surprising.

Meng Yanxi looked at her, casually spinning his phone up and down in one hand, appearing somewhat nonchalant.

Jin Zhao’s gaze was unconsciously drawn to the rotating phone. She stared at his hand and said softly, “Thank you, but there’s no need.”

Starting off so badly, she never wanted to go on blind dates again.

Lanshan Garden was an old high-rise residential complex, part of the earliest batch of tall apartment buildings. Compared to the truly old neighborhoods from the last century, it lacked close-knit neighborly ties and the warmth of everyday life; compared to newly built complexes, it lacked proper and standardized property management—to the point that people could openly get into a fight downstairs, and not a single person would call the police.

Some people saw it from afar and avoided it altogether, detouring around it as quickly as they could.

In fact, Jin Zhao’s first reaction was also to detour.

Public security in the UK wasn’t particularly good, and on top of that her luck had been poor—back then, not long after she arrived, she’d run into a robbery. A young girl going to the police station alone in the middle of the night to make a statement. To her, compared with any sense of righteous indignation at injustice, self-preservation was the most important thing.

Those years, whenever she encountered conflict, her first reaction was always to run far away.

But the problem was that today, these people were fighting right at the entrance of her building.

Three men and two women blocked her way home. Among them, she recognized three—Wu Nian, her half brother Wu Guo, and her half sister Wu Fei.

Jin Zhao hadn’t seen the other two men. They wore tight T-shirts and jeans, slightly overweight, with dark skin—one bald, one with long hair, tattoos covering their arms.

Wu Nian stood off to the side with her arms crossed, watching them beat Wu Guo. Wu Fei watched helplessly as her brother was beaten, wanting to help but not daring to. Crying, she shouted, “Stop hitting him! Stop hitting him! We came with good intentions to give you money!”

Wu Nian sneered. “Quit pretending to be an innocent white lotus in front of me. How many times have you screwed me over all these years? Do you really think I’m a soft persimmon you can squeeze however you like?”

Under her foot was a mobile phone. As she spoke, she kicked it hard. The phone shot out, crashing heavily into the steps. With a sharp pa, it shattered on the spot.

It was Wu Fei’s phone.

Wu Guo was Wu Fei’s full brother. Because of his cohabitation arrangement with Wu Nian, Jin Zhao had seen him twice since returning to the country. Tall and slim, with delicate, fair features—very much the type girls liked. He had returned from studying at a prestigious overseas university and was now a landscape designer, with a respectable job.

Wu Fei was the same—also a graduate of a top overseas university, now an executive at a company.

The existence of this brother and sister was like a living contrast to highlight just how unlucky and miserable Wu Nian’s life had been. What was most infuriating was that these two didn’t know what they were trying to do—recently, they’d even started showing up to look for Wu Nian from time to time.

That Wu Nian would hit them didn’t surprise Jin Zhao at all. But she shouldn’t be beating them to death like this.

Wu Guo had no strength left to fight back. He lay on the ground, blood mixed with rainwater that hadn’t yet dried, his glasses shattered in the bloody puddle.

Jin Zhao stepped forward and grabbed Wu Nian. “Stop hitting him. If there’s something to say, say it properly. This will get someone killed.”

At the words “get someone killed,” Wu Nian’s gaze flickered extremely quickly. She swallowed unconsciously, but still didn’t speak.

Not far away, the bald man suddenly grabbed Wu Guo by the collar and dragged him over to the steps in front of the building entrance. Seizing his hair, he was about to smash his head into the steps.

“Ah—” Wu Fei screamed.

Jin Zhao was frightened as well and blurted out, “Don’t—”

But they didn’t listen to her. Fortunately, Wu Fei rushed over in time, lunging at the bare-chested bald man and biting down hard. Crying out in pain, he threw Wu Guo to the ground and raised his hand, delivering a vicious slap across Wu Fei’s face.

“Pa—”

Wu Fei was flung into the rainwater, her delicate dress instantly smeared with mud.

The man didn’t let her go. He followed after her and hauled her up again.

Seeing that the situation was completely out of control, Jin Zhao’s hands shaking, she fumbled for her phone and turned to walk away quickly.

“You want to call the police?” Wu Nian, sharp-eyed, grabbed her.

Her voice immediately caught the attention of the long-haired man. He abruptly turned his head to look at Jin Zhao. His murky, narrow eyes fixed on her like a predator sizing up prey, cold and sinister.

The long-haired man strode toward her.

Jin Zhao clutched her phone and backed away.

“Get lost, she’s my friend.” Wu Nian immediately stepped in front of her again.

The long-haired man stopped, his eyes still locked tightly on Jin Zhao. Suddenly, he stretched an arm past Wu Nian and snatched at Jin Zhao’s phone.

Jin Zhao staggered. The phone was taken from her, and the brand-new British and American poetry textbooks in her arms fell to the ground with a sharp pa.

“What are you doing? Give it back to her!” Wu Nian shouted.

The man looked at Jin Zhao and curled his lips into a smile. “Sure.”

As he spoke, he flicked his wrist and hurled the phone straight at her face.

Jin Zhao reflexively raised her arms to shield her face.

The expected pain didn’t come. Instead, she was pulled even faster into an embrace. Her face slammed into a man’s solid chest, the cold scent of mountain pine mist rushing uncontoppably into her nose.

The phone that had been thrown was caught steadily by Meng Yanxi. With one arm holding Jin Zhao, his gaze was so cold it could kill.

“Another busybody.”

The long-haired man looked at Meng Yanxi—who was even more handsome and clean-cut than Wu Guo—and assumed he was just another pretty boy who looked good but was useless. He spat disdainfully, then wiped the corner of his mouth with his fist.

The next second, Meng Yanxi flipped him over his shoulder and smashed him hard into the ground, a painful wail bursting out.