Tao Zhi hesitated for three seconds between “pretending not to have seen or heard him and turning to leave” and “turning around to face the pain,” and felt that the former seemed somewhat deliberate, even more awkward.

She pressed her forehead against the glass window for two seconds, then turned her head back inch by inch. She even felt her body was so stiff that she could hear the “crack crack” sound of her bones moving.

Tao Zhi turned her head, looked at Jiang Qihuai, and forced out a fake smile: “You’re here?”

Jiang Qihuai looked at her without any emotion.

Tao Zhi kept her smile, stiffly pulled up the corners of her mouth, lifted her arm, and patted his shoulder twice, speaking naturally: “Work hard, okay.”

“……”

For a moment, Jiang Qihuai thought she was the owner of this convenience store.

Tao Zhi subconsciously wanted to slip away. Whatever heat or impulse or fleeting courage she had just now—all of it was scared away clean by him. She herself didn’t even understand clearly what it was that made her insist on coming here, looking at him, and trying to confirm something.

It was all because he looked too good when he was correcting her essay.

All his fault.

Tao Zhi thought with slight irritation.

Before she could take a step, an old man walked up behind Jiang Qihuai.

The old man looked to be in his sixties, energetic and bright-eyed. Smiling kindly at her, he asked, “Is this your classmate?”

Jiang Qihuai gave a soft “mm.”

Only then did Tao Zhi react, hurriedly greeting him: “Hello, Grandpa.”

“Ah, hello,” the old man said kindly, “you came to play with A’Huai?”

“……”

No, I just came to check on his work progress.

With just one sentence, Grandpa Jiang made Tao Zhi once again caught between advancing and retreating. She thought about it, then slowly nodded.

Seeing her nod, Grandpa Jiang seemed very happy. “Good, good, A’Huai has made friends at his new school.”

Tao Zhi subconsciously glanced at Jiang Qihuai.

The boy lowered his eyes; the cold air around him completely gone, he looked calm and quiet.

Maybe it was an illusion, but when standing beside the old man, he seemed to have withdrawn his sharp shell and become soft.

The lone wolf turned into a little golden retriever.

Tao Zhi found it rather curious. She was used to winning over elders’ affection, so she smiled and said, “Grandpa, Jiang Qihuai has a really good reputation at school. Everyone likes hanging out with him.”

When copying homework during morning self-study, that is.

Grandpa Jiang looked even happier. “A’Huai has a good temperament, always been likable since he was a child.”

“……”

For a moment, Tao Zhi didn’t know what to say. She simply couldn’t connect Jiang Qihuai with the words “good temperament” and “likable.”

Jiang Qihuai lifted his eyes, and seeing her speechless expression, he knew exactly what she was thinking. He sighed: “It’s windy out here. Let’s go back first.”

Grandpa Jiang nodded, then looked at Tao Zhi again. “Little girl, have you had dinner yet?”

“Not yet.”

Grandpa Jiang said, “Then come on, go upstairs, have a meal first, and then play with him. Grandpa will make you something delicious.”

Tao Zhi: “Ah? Ah…”

Ah???

Jiang Qihuai’s home was on this same street. From beside the convenience store, they turned into a narrow alley. The old residential building had faded red paint on its walls, the cement stairs were plastered with small advertisements, the ceilings were a bit low, and the corridor was narrow and cramped.

His home was the last unit on the third floor. Tao Zhi stood at the door watching Jiang Qihuai unlock it with his key, and followed behind him, still not understanding how things had developed to this point.

Jiang Qihuai turned on the light at the door.

The ceiling light in the living room glowed a warm yellow. The living room was small; one glance could see to the end. The dining table was set near the entrance, there was an old rosewood tea table, and the sofa was covered with a faded slipcover.

Tao Zhi only took a quick look, then stopped looking around. She obediently lowered her head to change her shoes.

After entering, she took off her coat, didn’t toss it around, folded it neatly and set it aside, then sat on the sofa with both hands resting on her knees—like a well-behaved elementary school student.

Grandpa Jiang washed his hands, asked her if she avoided any foods, then went into the kitchen.

Jiang Qihuai followed him inside and poured her a glass of water.

Tao Zhi accepted it and said softly, “Thank you.”

The water was warm, dispersing the chill she’d carried from standing outside. Tao Zhi held the glass cup and took small sips, sneaking a glance toward the kitchen.

The door wasn’t closed. Jiang Qihuai stood before the sink washing vegetables, then took out a piece of bright red meat from the refrigerator.

When he shut the refrigerator door and looked outward—

Tao Zhi immediately drew back her head and lowered it, staring at the water in her cup.

From the kitchen came the occasional murmur of conversation.

After hesitating a bit, Tao Zhi put down the cup, walked to the doorway, and poked her head in: “Do you need help?”

Jiang Qihuai dragged out the cutting board and was slicing vegetables. “Go sit back down.”

“You get out too, such a big guy taking up space,” Grandpa Jiang said discontentedly, shooing him away. “She came to play with you, the old man’s going to show off his cooking today—don’t you go stealing my spotlight.”

Tao Zhi couldn’t help but burst out laughing with a “pfft.”

Jiang Qihuai, helpless, put down what he was holding, washed his hands, and came out of the kitchen.

Tao Zhi leaned against the wall, smiling at him.

“What are you laughing at.”

“Nothing,” Tao Zhi was still smiling. “Just didn’t expect that our high-and-mighty prince at school would turn into such a well-behaved baby at home.”

Jiang Qihuai couldn’t hold back a hiss, lifted his hand, and knocked her lightly on the head before walking past her.

Tao Zhi covered her head and followed. “Why do you keep knocking on my head! You’ll make me stupid!”

“I’m playing whack-a-mole.”

Tao Zhi grew displeased and followed behind him, waving her arms and making silent, exaggerated faces.

Jiang Qihuai suddenly turned around.

Tao Zhi froze instantly. Her face stiffened, expression going flat as she looked at him calmly.

Jiang Qihuai’s lips curved slightly without a sound. He walked to the bedroom door, pushed it open, and moved aside.

Since bedrooms were more private spaces, Tao Zhi stopped at the doorway, hesitated, and didn’t step in. “Can I come in?”

“You still need me to invite you?”

“It’s not like that’d be impossible,” Tao Zhi said seriously.

Jiang Qihuai ignored her and went straight in.

Tao Zhi followed after him.

His bedroom wasn’t large. By the window stood a bed, with a desk at its head and a wardrobe along the wall. Opposite them, an entire wall was taken up by a large bookshelf, its shelves filled tightly with books.

Compared to Tao Zhi’s room cluttered with random junk, his looked neat, clean, and ordinary.

The only thing that stood out was the wall beside his desk—covered full with photos.

Tao Zhi hadn’t expected this side of Jiang Qihuai.

She said, touched, “Didn’t think our aloof and untouchable prince would have such a delicate and fragile artistic heart.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Jiang Qihuai walked to the desk, rummaged through a pile of papers and books, then pulled one out and handed it to her.

“What’s this?” Tao Zhi took it and glanced at the cover.

“Wang Qianxiong’s 365 Series—Selected English Essays.”

Tao Zhi: “……”

She lifted her head and looked at him as if she were staring at a devil from the underworld. “I came to your house to hang out, and you’re giving me an essay collection to read?”

“You still have time to hang out?”

“……”

Fine.

Tao Zhi walked over to his desk, sat down, and opened the essay book.

Jiang Qihuai left the bedroom.

Tao Zhi could hardly focus. The thought that she was now sitting at Jiang Qihuai’s desk, inside his bedroom, made her heart itch uncontrollably. Pretending to read, she flipped through a few pages, set the book down, and stood up.

She walked over to the section of wall covered with photos.

The pictures he’d chosen were all rather strange—a half-finished puzzle, a remote control for a toy race car, a tabby cat lying on a courtyard wall in a small alley, basking in the sun.

On photos with light backgrounds, small black letters were written in the lower left corner. They were tiny, visible only if one looked closely. She didn’t look. Somehow, she felt that these were his private secrets.

At the very bottom was a row of night skies.

Tao Zhi recognized one at a glance—it was the photo they took last time at the amusement park, from the top of the Ferris wheel.

Back then, Fu Xiling had sent a whole bunch of them in the group chat, over a dozen pictures, including the one that had secretly captured her.

Jiang Qihuai had only chosen one photo to put up.

Through the glass window of the Ferris wheel cabin, the sky held a grand and dazzling ceremony—bright blossoms of light burst open in the clear night, dyeing the darkness with brilliant, colorful specks, stars glimmering in between.

Aside from that, there was nothing else in the frame.

He hadn’t chosen the one with her in it.

Tao Zhi lowered her eyelashes and pressed her lips together.

Although it was only natural, and though she had expected as much, when she saw with her own eyes that he truly didn’t like her, she still felt a dull ache.

It was as if a tiny, thin thorn pricked lightly at the tip of her heart—barely noticeable, fleeting even—but that faint, small pain spread through her chest, leaving her whole body heavy with sadness.

There really wasn’t anything about her that was worth his liking.

Her personality wasn’t cute, her grades weren’t good. Her looks might be decent, but since he was so good-looking himself, appearance was probably the last thing in the world he cared about.

Other than that, there was nothing about her that could make him take notice.

Tao Zhi walked back to the desk, pulled out the chair and sat down, lowering her head to stare at the English essay book spread before her.

The letters drifted across her vision, yet suddenly none of them made sense. It was as if Jiang Qihuai were standing tall before her, looking down coldly, mocking her for overestimating herself.

The bedroom door opened. When Jiang Qihuai walked in, he saw the girl leaning over the desk, idly flipping the pages of the book.

Hearing the sound, she lazily lifted her eyes and glanced at him.

The boy still carried a faint chill on him—he had probably gone out just now. Tao Zhi didn’t ask, only withdrew her gaze and continued spacing out.

A small plate of strawberries was set down on the desk before her.

Tao Zhi blinked in surprise.

Bright red strawberries lay neatly arranged on a clear glass dish, dewdrops clinging to their skin, each one plump and glossy, their color a vivid crimson—just looking at them made one imagine the sweet, tart juice bursting across the tongue.

She really liked strawberries. At school, she often bought strawberry-flavored candies and milk.

She blinked and lifted her head. “You went out to buy strawberries?”

Jiang Qihuai made a soft “mm,” sat on the edge of the bed, casually picked up a book, and glanced at the essay in her hands. “It’s been over ten minutes, still the same one?”

Tao Zhi didn’t catch what he said. She only felt that the tiny thorn in her heart had taken root, slowly sprouting a small, tender green bud that trembled lightly.

The heavy, suffocating sadness that had weighed on her began to slowly fade away.

She set the book down, picked up a strawberry, and bit into it.

Cool, sweet flavor.

After eating two, she didn’t take any more. She pushed the plate slightly toward him and went back to reading.

The desk lamp cast a bright glow; the two of them sat together under the light, each focused on their own book. For a while, neither spoke, and the room was quiet and still.

After finishing two essays and their paragraph-by-paragraph analyses, Tao Zhi started to feel sleepy. Propping her head up, she yawned and secretly lifted her eyes to glance at him.

Since she had taken his seat, he was sitting on the bed instead, his long legs stretched out before him, eyes lowered, focused on the pages in his hands.

As expected, still beautiful.

He was just beautiful.

When he was focused on something, he looked especially—uniquely—beautiful.

Tao Zhi withdrew her gaze, thinking silently.

The tiny words written on his photos were his secret. Now, she also had one of her own—a secret belonging only to herself.

It felt as though the two of them shared another small connection.

That thought made Tao Zhi happy again.

After a while, Jiang Qihuai noticed in his peripheral vision that she hadn’t taken any more strawberries.

He looked up. “Not good?”

Tao Zhi, lying on the desk, gave a muffled “mm” before realizing what he meant.

She glanced at the beautiful plate of strawberries and said reluctantly, “They’re good.”

Jiang Qihuai thought she was holding back because dinner would be ready soon or something like that.

“But these are expensive,” Tao Zhi lifted her head. Her dark eyes looked at him, lashes softly curving upward as she spoke slowly, “I want to save them for you.”