After the woman left with the little boy as if fleeing from a famine, the atmosphere grew even more rigid.

Even the air seemed frozen.

Li Shuangjiang and the others didn’t even dare to breathe too loudly. Although they had slowly become more familiar with Jiang Qihuai over this period, it was only slightly—they still couldn’t quite figure out what kind of temper this big shot had.

Tao Zhi glanced at her classmates’ stiff faces, then took another look at Jiang Qihuai standing beside her, feeling a little amused.

But she held it in.

She looked him up and down; that wig on his head had probably been used many times—the green hair was already a mess, the bangs sticking up like claws, looking just like those groups of teenagers who had once been at the cutting edge of middle school fashion.

Unexpectedly, he was actually rather handsome.

Indeed, hairstyle depended on the face.

Tao Zhi cleared her throat and broke the silence. “Your Highness, your look is quite unique. Mind if I take a picture?”

Jiang Qihuai: “……”

Ever since he had met Tao Zhi, Jiang Qihuai felt that his temper had become so good it was practically miraculous.

Expressionless, he grabbed the green hair on his head and pulled it off. A staff member happened to walk by in front, coming to collect their task props.

This haunted house was cleverly designed—Li Shuangjiang’s group’s prop was an iron-toothed mug, while Zhao Mingqi’s group had a tattered rag doll.

Jiang Qihuai handed the green wig to the staff. Beside him, Tao Zhi touched her nose awkwardly. “Um, just now, there was a staff member in our theme room, and he was so scary that I gave him a light hit. He’s fine, right?”

The staff was startled for a moment, then smiled. “He came out just now. Nothing serious, just a bit of a nosebleed—it’s already stopped.”

Tao Zhi felt a little guilty. “I’m really sorry. I was just frightened and acted on reflex.”

The staff: “……”

A normal girl who gets scared should turn and run, young lady!

Forget girls—even boys would do that, right?!

Over the phone, Jiang Zhengxun said that the line for the roller coaster was nearly done. Li Shuangjiang led the group out of the haunted house. Before leaving, Tao Zhi was still bowing repeatedly to the staff. “I’m really sorry. Maybe call an ambulance to get him checked at the hospital, I’ll cover the cost.”

The staff bowed back. “It’s really fine. The people acting as ghosts in the haunted house often get a few bumps and scrapes, it’s normal.”

“I’m really sorry!” Tao Zhi said meekly.

“You’re too polite.” The staff looked flattered.

Even after they had walked far away, Tao Zhi was still waving to the staff.

Jiang Qihuai glanced at her, his gaze looking somewhat curious.

Tao Zhi tilted her head. “What kind of look is that?”

“Nothing,” Jiang Qihuai withdrew his gaze and walked forward unhurriedly, his tone casual. “I just didn’t expect that you would also apologize.”

“Of course I would, okay? Wasn’t that innocent zombie the one I hit?” she said, walking backward as she spoke. “Didn’t I apologize to you before, too?”

Jiang Qihuai nodded. “Truce?”

Tao Zhi choked for a moment.

“I mean the time before, at the door of Old Wang’s office!” She bit the inside of her cheek and said, “A truce is a truce, Your Highness. I hope you can be magnanimous. What’s past should stay in the past. I’m not holding it against you anymore, so what are you still dissatisfied about?”

She looked very magnanimous, flapping her little wings there proudly, and Jiang Qihuai couldn’t help but find it a little funny.

After the chaos in the haunted house, the girl’s fair little face looked flushed, her black eyes bright and shining.

Jiang Qihuai suddenly recalled the moment from ten minutes ago—when she had stood on tiptoe, tilting her head toward him, the faint cool touch that brushed the corner of his lips.

Ahead, Fu Xiling called her over at a stall selling trinkets. Tao Zhi turned, trotted to her side, and crouched down in front of a pile of gaudy little items, carefully picking through them.

Her long hair wasn’t tied up; a few loose strands at her cheeks were casually tucked behind her ears. The curve of her profile looked soft and lively, her ear pale, smooth, and rounded.

Jiang Qihuai raised his hand, his thumb lightly brushing the corner of his lower lip.

Jiang Zhengxun and the others had lined up for a hanging roller coaster—each row could seat seven or eight people. As soon as Tao Zhi got on, she went straight for the very front row.

Because the front row had no obstruction, the view was the widest and the experience the most thrilling. Tao Zhi sat at the edge, slowly pulling down the safety bar to lock it in place.

Then, she waved at Jiang Qihuai.

Jiang Qihuai walked over and sat beside her, pulling down his own safety bar.

Since their feet dangled freely, many people nearby, afraid of losing their shoes, simply took them off. Tao Zhi also took hers off neatly, tossing them under the seat, looking calm and at ease.

Jiang Qihuai thought this little groundhog wasn’t afraid of anything.

Until the roller coaster began to tilt upward, climbing slowly.

The height rose bit by bit, the hanging rail swaying slightly downward under gravity. The people below grew smaller and smaller, their faces soon blurring into indistinct shapes.

The mechanical clatter of gears echoed in their ears. Tao Zhi swallowed nervously, her feet in rainbow-colored socks swinging twice before she suddenly said, “Your Highness, if you’re scared, you can scream.”

Jiang Qihuai turned his head slightly. “When did I say I was scared?”

Tao Zhi glanced downward once, her voice starting to tremble. “What did we have for lunch today again?”

Jiang Qihuai: “……”

“We haven’t had lunch yet,” Jiang Qihuai reminded her.

Tao Zhi’s brain short-circuited; she didn’t even catch what he said, her little face pale as she shouted loudly to bolster her courage, “We had beef noodles, right?!”

Jiang Qihuai: “……”

The roller coaster reached the highest point—then came to a stop.

Two seconds later, it plunged swiftly down the towering steel track.

The roaring wind howled past their ears, and Tao Zhi’s whole body floated within the safety bar along with the coaster’s trajectory.

The moment the feeling of weightlessness hit, she instinctively grabbed Jiang Qihuai’s hand beside her.

Jiang Qihuai paused and turned his head to look at her.

The girl’s long black hair was blown messily backward by the wind. Her eyes were wide open, staring straight ahead; her lips pale and bloodless. Her right hand clutched the back of his hand tightly, her fingertips icy cold. The veins on her slender, fair palm were almost translucent, the bones taut and distinct.

From the back rows came screams and cheers—some people shouting wildly with their hands raised high—but Tao Zhi heard nothing. The scenery before her spun and retreated rapidly; the wind stung her eyes.

Amid the roaring wind, she faintly heard a calm, clear voice sound lightly beside her ear.

“Tao Zhi, close your eyes.”

It was as if she had been bewitched. She obediently closed her eyes.

The world sank into darkness, and all her senses sharpened. She felt the warmth beneath her rigid right hand—what she was gripping gave off a soft, steady heat. Then that warmth shifted, turning over, and very gently covered the back of her hand.

A fleeting moment of warmth.

Tao Zhi froze for a beat.

The roller coaster was fast—it only took a few minutes to finish one loop. Gradually, the speed slowed, and the height began to drop.

Tao Zhi opened her eyes and turned her head.

Her hand was tightly gripping Jiang Qihuai’s handlebar, completely taking over his spot. The boy’s hand was placed slightly farther back, his knuckles brushing her wrist.

Though her fingertips were numbed cold by the wind, that single point of contact felt burning hot—like a spark that burst into flame, racing along her veins, surging wildly through her body.

Tao Zhi abruptly pulled her hand back.

The roller coaster slowed to a stop. The safety bar pressing over them lifted up with a click, and people began stepping off one after another, putting their shoes back on.

Tao Zhi sat there dazed for a moment, her toes curling uneasily inside her socks.

A staff member holding a loudspeaker urged them to exit quickly. Tao Zhi came back to her senses, slowly slipped her shoes on, stood up, and followed behind Jiang Qihuai as they went down.

He had taken off his coat earlier because it was too long. The loose white sweater underneath fit broad shoulders and a slender frame; the line running from his neck down to his shoulders was sharp and graceful.

As they stepped down the stairs, Jiang Qihuai turned back.

His short black hair was tousled by the wind, revealing his straight brow bones and forehead. The usual chill in his expression had been softened, making him look a little unrestrained.

He lifted his gaze to her and asked in a calm voice, “You okay?”

Tao Zhi’s heart thudded twice—like she had been struck by lightning. Only two words echoed in her head.

It’s over.

Over, over, over, over.

She walked down the steps as if sleepwalking. Below, Li Shuangjiang and Zhao Mingqi were still excitedly shouting that one ride wasn’t enough, while Fu Xiling, who hadn’t gone up, was handing everyone their coats one by one.

Tao Zhi lifted her head, looked at Jiang Qihuai, and murmured softly, “Jiang Qihuai.”

Jiang Qihuai looked at her calmly, waiting for her to continue.

“I never want to eat beef noodles again,” Tao Zhi said weakly. “Just thinking about those three words now makes my stomach hurt.”

Jiang Qihuai: “……”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Happy Valley Restaurant District — Beef Noodle Theme House.

Tao Zhi stood at the entrance with a blank face. On both sides of the shopfront, inflatable cartoon mascots swayed cheerfully in the wind.

She had no idea why that scoundrel Li Shuangjiang suddenly suggested having beef noodles for lunch. What was worse was that everyone else agreed with him, thinking it was a brilliant idea.

Why would anyone eat beef noodles in an amusement park?

Seriously—was there really someone who came all the way to an amusement park at noon just to look for a beef noodle shop?!

The group went in happily, humming tunes as they disappeared inside. Tao Zhi sighed and prepared to see if the place sold anything other than beef noodles—maybe rice bowls or something—when she noticed Jiang Qihuai still standing where he was, not moving.

Tao Zhi tilted her head up to look at him and pointed at the entrance. “Are you eating?”

Jiang Qihuai turned his head slightly. “You want to eat again?”

His tone was very flat.

But for some reason, Tao Zhi felt there was a trace of mockery—maybe even teasing—hidden in it.

She cleared her throat and stretched her voice. “If you don’t want to eat, then—”

She took off her small backpack, pulled out a lunchbox with sandwiches inside, and handed it to him.

Jiang Qihuai lowered his eyes, took it from her, and watched as she kept rummaging through her bag.

Tao Zhi then pulled out another box filled with fruit. Lifting her head, she looked at him sincerely. “We can eat sandwiches.”

Jiang Qihuai: “……”

He didn’t really mind what they ate. The girl had clearly been frightened enough on the roller coaster—it hadn’t been an act. Judging from the look on her face, she really didn’t want anything to do with beef noodles.

Since the restaurant didn’t allow outside food, Jiang Qihuai took the box of sandwiches and went over to a nearby rest area, finding an empty table to sit at.

Tao Zhi followed him over, removed the lid of the lunchbox, and handed him a neatly wrapped sandwich.

Aunt Zhang’s cooking was always good—the bread was toasted to a light golden crisp, stuffed with bacon, chicken, vegetables, and egg. When sliced in half, the colorful layers looked so delicate they could have been displayed in a shop window.

The two ate quietly, neither saying a word. Tao Zhi stayed silent, and Jiang Qihuai was even less likely to speak.

Tao Zhi suddenly began to regret eating alone with Jiang Qihuai.

She felt a faint awkwardness lingering between them—a small, uneasy tension that had started back on the roller coaster and hadn’t quite faded since.

The warmth on the back of her right hand still seemed to linger. But the fear she’d felt from the weightlessness had been so overwhelming that she couldn’t even be sure whether that brief moment of hand-holding had really happened—or if it was just her imagination.

She wanted to ask Jiang Qihuai.

But the question felt far too embarrassing to say aloud.

The girl bit into a small piece of sandwich, her leg swinging under the table, her foot brushing against the person across from her several times.

She didn’t even notice—distracted, lost in thought, chewing absentmindedly, her gaze unfocused.

Her restlessness and distraction were obvious.

Until Tao Zhi’s foot swung out again—by the fourth time, Jiang Qihuai glanced down at his pants and thought that if he didn’t say something soon, he might finish his sandwich only to find his pants had changed color.

He spoke. “What are you thinking about, so lost in thought?”

“I was thinking…” Tao Zhi’s eyes were fixed blankly on the distant Ferris wheel, her voice slightly airy, “did you just… hold my hand?”

Jiang Qihuai’s movements paused. He lifted his eyelids to look at her.

Tao Zhi froze too. Her gaze slowly focused again as she came back to her senses, finally dragging her eyes away from the Ferris wheel.

The tips of her ears gradually turned red.

But she had already asked it—words spoken were like water spilled.

So Tao Zhi decided to go all in. Summoning her courage, she accused him with perfect confidence, “You took advantage of me.”

Her mouth was still full, her words muffled, her cheeks puffed out—she looked just like a little hamster with its mouth stuffed full of food.

It made one almost want to poke those puffed cheeks, just to see how they felt.

Jiang Qihuai’s fingertips twitched slightly. He rubbed the sandwich’s plastic wrap between his thumb and forefinger before finally speaking. “You sure you’ve figured out who took advantage of whom?”

Tao Zhi’s mouth opened. “Ah?”

“You were the one who got scared and grabbed my hand,” Jiang Qihuai said.

Tao Zhi’s eyes widened, round and incredulous. “Me? Me? I wasn’t scared, okay? What would I be scared of? It’s not like I’ve never ridden a roller coaster before!”

Jiang Qihuai listened to her chatter until she finished, then nodded silently. He lifted his left hand—the one not holding food—and showed her the evidence.

On the back of his hand were faint red marks, the shallow imprints left by fingernails. They were already fading, almost invisible, but against his pale skin, even a hint of red stood out clearly.

The evidence was ironclad.

Leaving her no room to argue.

Tao Zhi: “……”

She stared at him blankly, her expression a mix of frustration, disbelief, and a hint of embarrassment that she herself probably hadn’t yet processed—utterly speechless.

Jiang Qihuai’s peach-blossom eyes lowered, the corner of his lips curving slightly as he said in a quiet tone, “Little rascal.”