Osmanthus blooms late in the mountains, but it really had bloomed. As if overnight—there had been no scent last night, yet by morning the entire courtyard was filled with sweet fragrance.

When daylight fully broke, Si Tian came down. Not long after, Luo Heng and the others came down as well.

Jin Zhao’s gaze passed over Lu Jingyue, searching behind him.

Lu Jingyue said, “Don’t look. Meng Yanxi already went back.”

“Huh? Brother Yan went back? When did he leave?” Luo Heng was shocked.

Lu Jingyue glanced at Jin Zhao and said, “Last night.”

Jin Zhao’s fingers resting on the table clenched tight, her nails turning a stark white.

“Last night? After the cards it was already past ten—pitch dark out there. How did he go back? Right, didn’t he have you…” Luo Heng also glanced at Jin Zhao and changed his wording mid-sentence, “…didn’t you have him help you take osmanthus cake over to Jin Zhao and the other one?”

Lu Jingyue said, “Who knows. He came back and just told me he was leaving, and had me send Jin Zhao back.”

Jin Zhao lowered her eyes in silence.

The heart that had been hanging high all night seemed to finally crash into a wall, falling dully—yet it also didn’t feel unexpected.

Compared to Jin Zhao’s silence, Feng Chi’s reaction could only be described as heartbroken.

That morning, when everyone left, Feng Chi still clung to Lu Jingyue’s car window for a long time, calling out repeatedly, “Brother Yue, Brother Yue, help me say a few good words to Brother Yan when you get back, yeah? It’s this little brother’s poor hospitality. Hey, really—why did he leave in the middle of the night? It was dark and the road was long, and it was raining. No matter how urgent it was, he should’ve at least told me—I could’ve had someone drive him. Did I do something wrong somewhere?”

The rich second-generation playboy scratched his head, utterly baffled. “Was it because I didn’t find the food box last night? Or did the rain get the osmanthus cake wet? But I saw Brother Yan’s umbrella covering the cake completely—he himself got soaked instead… Ah, right! It must be because he got rained on and was unhappy!”

Feng Chi slapped his own face theatrically. “It’s all my fault! When Brother Yan didn’t let me hold the umbrella for the osmanthus cake last night, how did I not react? If I wasn’t holding the umbrella for the cake, I should’ve been holding it for Brother Yan! I’m sorry—it’s this little brother who’s at fault!”

“That’s enough. Your Brother Yan isn’t that petty. It has nothing to do with you.” Lu Jingyue really couldn’t listen anymore. He cut him off and drove away.

They returned on the sixth. The seventh was Mid-Autumn Festival. Jin Zhao went back to Huijue Town to visit her grandparents.

In Jin Zhao’s sophomore year of college, her grandparents had returned to their old home in Huijue Town. The two elders had originally lived with Jin Wenhui, but later Lin Yao kept saying she wanted to rent a place to live on her own. The elders weren’t that lacking in tact—to let the lady of the house leave her own home to rent elsewhere—so they took the initiative to return to the countryside.

-♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི

On Mid-Autumn Festival day, Meng Yanxi was kept at the Meng residence and given a thorough scolding by Meng Shixu.

Because he had skipped the blind date with the Qiao family.

That evening, Lu Jingyue came to the Meng house with his parents. Just as he stepped through the door, he heard Meng Shixu lecturing Meng Yanxi.

“Every time I arrange a blind date for you, nine times out of ten you tell me you already have a girlfriend. If you have a girlfriend, then bring her back and let me and your grandfather take a look.”

Meng Yanxi lounged lazily in the sofa, eyes lowered, fingers absentmindedly twirling his phone. It was hard to tell whether he had heard a single word of what Meng Shixu said.

Most likely, he hadn’t.

“I’m asking you something—say something!”

Meng Yanxi finally lifted his eyelids, looking blank. “What?”

Meng Shixu wanted nothing more than to kick him.

If it weren’t for the fact that Meng Shijin’s family had just come in and he needed to save his son some face, he really would have kicked him. Over the years, Meng Shixu had thought this countless times.

Family banquets on holidays were a Meng family tradition. No matter how busy one was, absence was not allowed—this was a rule set by Meng Huai.

But with three generations under one roof, and the grandchildren all of marriageable age, the conversation inevitably circled back to the same topic.

Meng Huai was not as biased toward women and dismissive of men as Meng Shixu. He asked Meng Yanxi reasonably, “Why didn’t you go to the blind date on the third? Was it because you weren’t satisfied with Qiao Mianmian?”

Meng Huai himself had sharp hearing; many things the younger generation didn’t know, he did. As for Qiao Mianmian, he personally wasn’t very satisfied, but since Meng Shixu was intent on matchmaking, he couldn’t say much. Besides, it was just a meeting—there didn’t necessarily have to be any follow-up.

“No. She’s very nice,” Meng Yanxi said calmly. “I was mainly afraid she wouldn’t be satisfied with me.”

Meng Shixu was so angry he laughed, saying sarcastically, “You really aren’t worthy of her.”

Meng Zhuxi couldn’t stand hearing that and immediately spoke up to defend her brother. “That’s not true. My brother already has a girlfriend. He didn’t go because he didn’t want to juggle two relationships.”

“Another girlfriend?” Meng Huai raised an eyebrow.

Meng Yanxi said flatly, “Already broke up.”

Meng Zhuxi: “Huh? Brother, didn’t you just start dating? Why did you break up again? You change girlfriends once a month—how am I supposed to dare help you ask for WeChat anymore?”

To this day, Meng Zhuxi still naively believed that her brother hadn’t added Jin Zhao on WeChat.

Meng Shixu sneered. “Don’t listen to his mouthful of lies.”

Beside them, Lu Jingyue glanced at Meng Yanxi’s listless expression and said half-seriously, half-jokingly, “He’s not lying. It’s true.”

Meng Shijin and his wife immediately smoothed things over. “It’s fine. Isn’t it just a breakup? Auntie will introduce someone else to you.”

Meng Shixu still wanted to say more, but Meng Huai promptly steered the topic away. At last, the gun barrel was no longer aimed solely at Meng Yanxi.

At dinner, the whole family ate autumn crabs together and shared mooncakes. Meng Shijin picked out a few amusing, fresh anecdotes to tell, making the old father Meng Huai laugh.

Meng Yanxi walked alone into the garden.

The osmanthus in the garden was all in full bloom, even more exuberant than in the mountains. Pale yellow blossoms filled the grounds, reflecting the full moon in the sky—bright and pure.

Meng Yanxi lowered his head and looked at his phone, opening Jin Zhao’s avatar.

The conversation was still frozen at before the class reunion.

Two days and one night—no movement at all.

If he were even slightly important to her, she wouldn’t have left him hanging for so long without a word.

Meng Yanxi frowned, his long fingers decisively pressing the screen dark, slipping the phone into his pocket.

In less than a minute, he took it out again, unlocked it, and opened WeChat once more.

Still no movement.

When Meng Zhuxi came out, her brother was resolutely pressing the screen dark, with a bearing that looked like he was swearing off his phone for life, never to look at it again.

Not knowing what had happened, Meng Zhuxi was thoroughly puzzled, staring blankly at his back, which looked a little lonely.

His eyes seemed a bit forlorn, and a bit anxiously yearning for something he couldn’t obtain.

Meng Zhuxi came back to her senses and walked over, saying, “Brother, I’m starting classes again after the holiday.”

Meng Yanxi nodded once, then opened his phone again.

Over these two days, his fingers had been trained into acting on their own. Opening WeChat, they would automatically tap into the chat with Jin Zhao first. Seeing that the screen was still utterly motionless, his brows knit slightly. Without changing his expression, he switched out, tapped into his chat with Meng Zhuxi, and casually transferred one hundred thousand yuan to her.

Meng Zhuxi’s phone immediately chimed.

Meng Yanxi said, “I’ve transferred your pocket money.”

As he spoke, he stuffed the phone into his pocket and started walking back.

“No—” Meng Zhuxi hurriedly grabbed his sleeve. “I’m not out of money. I mean, after the holiday I’m going to start the British and American poetry course.”

The four words “British and American poetry” made Meng Yanxi stop in his tracks.

If Meng Zhuxi hadn’t mentioned it, he would have forgotten all about it.

“I know you had me sign up for this course because you want Teacher Jin Zhao’s WeChat,” Meng Zhuxi stated her position firmly. “But I won’t help you get her WeChat. To prevent you from sneaking my phone to transfer her contact card to yourself, I won’t even add her. Absolutely not.”

Meng Yanxi turned his head and looked at his sister as if she were an idiot.

Meng Zhuxi was completely unaware and tried to continue persuading her brother to back off. “Teacher Jin Zhao is a good girl. I’ve already asked around. All her students like her. They say she’s beautiful and kind, very considerate of others, and devoted. Forget people—even the old things she’s used for a long time, she keeps using them. And you—you change girlfriends every month. You’re my brother, so it wouldn’t be right for me to use words like ‘scumbag’ or ‘playboy’ to describe you, but my conscience tells me I can’t be an accomplice, can’t aid wrongdoing, can’t help you do evil and harm a good girl. So even though I listened to you and signed up for the elective, I won’t help you.”

Meng Yanxi: “……”

Luo Heng was right—his sister really was his number-one anti-fan.

“Suit yourself.” Meng Yanxi stepped inside, tossing out a sentence as he went, “Transfer the one hundred thousand back to me.”

So angry that Meng Zhuxi started yelling behind him.

In the end, naturally, the money was accepted, and the matter was not done.

British and American poetry was held every Wednesday evening, with the first class not until the second week after the holiday.

When Jin Zhao saw Meng Zhuxi in class, she was a bit surprised. If she remembered correctly, Meng Zhuxi should already be a senior. Aside from lacking credits, she rarely saw seniors taking electives—and even cases of lacking credits were extremely, extremely rare.

“Are you preparing for graduate school?” Jin Zhao asked Meng Zhuxi with a smile. This was the only reason she could think of.

Meng Zhuxi truly couldn’t bring herself to say something like, “My brother has improper intentions toward you, is trying every possible way to get you, and sent me over to act as one link in the chain.” She could only smile against her conscience. “No, I just like literature.”

British and American poetry began with the medieval period, though it was only touched on briefly as background. In the first class, Jin Zhao focused on Petrarch of the Renaissance.

The world only knew that Petrarch, together with Dante and Boccaccio, was called one of the “Three Masters of the Renaissance,” yet few knew that Petrarch was devoted. At twenty-three, Petrarch met Laura. Over the next twenty years, he wrote 366 love poems for her, which later became the Canzoniere passed down through the ages.

Such love—grand and enduring—was hard not to yearn for.

Meng Zhuxi propped her chin on her hands, looking at the teacher on the podium, beautiful and glowing, and sighed silently in her heart.

Meng Yanxi didn’t measure up.

After class, Jin Zhao took the initiative to go over to Meng Zhuxi.

Because she was already a senior, there were no classmates still willing to accompany her to electives. Meng Zhuxi was alone, and naturally ended up going downstairs together with Jin Zhao.

Meng Zhuxi thanked Jin Zhao repeatedly for her help that day, then handed her a fruit shop card she had prepared in advance.

Her brother had said that Teacher Jin Zhao liked cards, and told her to give her a card as thanks.

But Meng Zhuxi couldn’t possibly bring herself to give a teacher a bank card, so she had no choice but to compromise and load credit onto a fruit shop card on campus instead. They were both cards—at least this way it didn’t look like bribery. Even so, Jin Zhao absolutely didn’t dare accept it, startled into stepping back.

“You can treat me to juice, but the fruit card won’t do. Teacher ethics inspections are very strict,” Jin Zhao said, half laughing, half crying.

Meng Zhuxi didn’t dare repay kindness with harm and get someone fired, so she could only smile awkwardly and put it away, then said, “Then I’ll bring juice next class. Teacher, what do you like to drink?”

Jin Zhao was quiet for a moment, then said, “Goji berry and chrysanthemum tea.”

Meng Zhuxi was surprised. “What a coincidence—my brother also likes goji berry and chrysanthemum tea the most!”

Jin Zhao’s eyelashes fluttered lightly.

The streetlights downstairs weren’t very bright. Figures passed by one after another, and some English majors who had just finished evening classes happened to come down as well. Recognizing her, they smiled and called out, “Hello, Teacher Jin!”

Jin Zhao smiled. “Hello.”

Building Three was on the outer edge of the teaching area. Across from it was the parking lot. By the roadside, a black sedan was parked quietly. Jin Zhao was a little nearsighted and didn’t like wearing glasses; at night, she saw even less clearly.

She couldn’t make out what kind of car it was, only that its lines were especially elegant and textured, clearly different from the others.

Her heart gave a quick thump, then she quickly recognized from the exterior that it wasn’t a Maybach. She couldn’t tell whether the feeling that followed was disappointment.

“Your brother…”

Has he been doing well lately?

Jin Zhao tightened her grip on the books in her arms.

She had walked all this way with Meng Zhuxi; only she herself knew her own ulterior motive. Yet just when Meng Zhuxi finally mentioned her brother on her own, she found she couldn’t bring herself to ask.

Meng Zhuxi, however, took those two words themselves as a question and said with a beaming smile, “Yes! He was in the counselor’s office with me that day—you remember, right? He’s very handsome!”

Jin Zhao smiled faintly. “He is very handsome.”

He really was handsome, and really was very good. But to her, he was too good—so good that she shrank back. These days, she had opened their chat window countless times, unable to focus even while preparing lessons, yet she didn’t dare send a single word.

Everything was just a feeling, but feelings themselves came with heavy filters, even illusions. She was very afraid it was all her own wishful thinking. In truth, he was so good—she simply didn’t deserve him.

Suddenly, Meng Zhuxi noticed the Rolls-Royce by the roadside.

That was Meng Yanxi’s car!

Even though it was very dark, even though the window was only half lowered, siblings of the same mother for over twenty years—Meng Zhuxi still recognized at a glance that the man sitting in the driver’s seat was her brother.

What was wrong with Meng Yanxi—how did he chase all the way to the school?!