The temperature of the heater rose, and the warm, lingering atmosphere made one involuntarily feel a little lazy.

People seemed to react half a beat slower than usual.

It was as if a pot of porridge was simmering in Tao Zhi’s head—placed over a small fire, quietly stewing, until the water inside began to boil, the white grains of rice rolling and swelling, bubbling softly.

Steam rose, and the sweet fragrance spread in the air.

She tried to translate the meaning of Jiang Qihuai’s words, but the distance between the two of them was too close. Tao Zhi simply couldn’t calm down enough to think about a single thing he was saying.

All she could see in her line of sight were the corners of his eyes and brows; all she could breathe in was his scent.

Tao Zhi felt that if this went on, she was going to get dizzy-eyed.

She swallowed. “So.”

Jiang Qihuai said softly, “So.”

“What do you mean by that?” Tao Zhi asked somewhat helplessly.

“The literal meaning,” Jiang Qihuai said.

Tao Zhi tried hard to digest what he said, feeling that her understanding of the past few months had been shaken.

She tried to clear her thoughts. “But you said the same thing to Consort Li before—that if her grades weren’t good enough, you wouldn’t consider it. Didn’t you reject her?”

Tao Zhi felt that his standard was reasonable and perfectly natural.

Two people being together always needed some common ground—some achievements that could match each other.

The feeling of liking someone was too vague and insubstantial; the resonance of two minds and abilities evenly matched—these could serve as the foundation for a stable relationship.

And Jiang Qihuai was someone who deserved that. He probably disdained those kinds of hollow, superficial affections. He wanted to choose someone who lived in the same world as him, someone standing at the same height.

There was nothing wrong with that.

Yet the very words he once said were now completely overturned by himself.

Tao Zhi couldn’t quite make sense of it.

“I rejected her—it had nothing to do with how much she scored. It was just because I didn’t like her. Why do you care about her?”

Seeing that the little girl was confused, Jiang Qihuai spoke patiently: “No one’s asking you to reach any particular score. Three hundred is fine, five hundred is fine, seven hundred, nine hundred—it’s all fine. If you like studying, then study; if you don’t, then go play. I’ll be the one to work hard.”

“You just go on the path you want to walk. I’ll follow you.” He smiled slightly, his voice faint, but his eyes looked at her with utter seriousness—steady and straight, carrying a self-assured pride. “I will have everything, and I’ll give it all to you.”

Tao Zhi stared at him blankly, finally—finally—understanding what he meant.

The mess in her head slowly began to sort itself out. “So.”

Jiang Qihuai began to suspect that those two words were the only ones she knew how to say now.

He sighed. “So what again?”

Tao Zhi blinked and said slowly, “You want me to be your empress?”

Jiang Qihuai: “……”

Tao Zhi’s mood brightened again. To Jiang Qihuai, she was different—this realization made her purse her lips, unable to stop herself from wanting to laugh.

It felt as though their positions had been reversed; somehow, she had inexplicably gone from being the passive one to the one taking the lead.

Tao Zhi cleared her throat, gave him a reserved glance, and said with a serious face, “Then I’ll have to think about it carefully.”

Jiang Qihuai found it a little amusing. He straightened up, nodded, and went along with her words. “Then think about it.”

Tao Zhi felt that the corners of her mouth were about to reach her temples. She couldn’t help swaying her head, standing on her tiptoes, lifting her arms, and leaning forward to gently hug his neck.

Jiang Qihuai stood with his hands lowered, his body stiffening slightly.

Tao Zhi rested her chin on his shoulder, rubbed the tip of her nose against the side of his neck, and said softly and quickly, “I’ve thought about it.”

She couldn’t hold it in even for a second. 

Afraid that if she delayed even a little, Jiang Qihuai might go back on his word.

Tao Zhi really didn’t know what about her was worth his liking. To think that the person she liked was also willing to like her—it made her feel she had gained an enormous fortune.

Her heart thumped wildly, joy overflowing uncontrollably.

From now on, he could really be hers.

Her boy.

From the bathroom at the end of the hall, someone came out talking. The two of them stood at the stairwell, extremely conspicuous.

Two boys who had been chatting suddenly went silent, slipped past them as quietly as chickens, but couldn’t help glancing back.

“Was that Jiang Qihuai just now?”

“He’s got a girlfriend now?” the other boy clicked his tongue. “Looks like another batch of heartbroken girls from Affiliated High.”

The hallway was quiet. Though the voices weren’t loud, Tao Zhi heard them clearly.

Only then did she start to feel embarrassed. She paused, obediently lowered her hands, stepped back a little, and leaned against the wall again.

Her cheeks were hot, her ears were hot, even the radiator behind her was hot, burning into her tailbone—everything felt unbearably warm in the middle of winter.

Tao Zhi turned her eyes away and whispered, “Then you’re my boyfriend now.”

Jiang Qihuai lingered on the word boyfriend, then gave a slow “mm.”

“Then,” Tao Zhi, now officially promoted in rank, lifted her eyes again and looked at him with dissatisfaction, “why didn’t you tell me you were coming to the winter camp?”

Jiang Qihuai: “…I forgot.”

He was used to being on his own, and indeed, he didn’t have the habit of reporting everything he did to others.

“You just look down on me,” Tao Zhi pouted. “My grades are bad, and I don’t even know what this winter camp is for—you just don’t think much of me.”

“……”

Tao Zhi was getting carried away. She said resentfully, “It’s fine, I can adjust my emotions myself. You don’t have to tell me anything from now on either.”

Jiang Qihuai felt a headache coming on. “What are you acting for now?”

“I’m sad!” Tao Zhi said angrily. “From now on, you have to tell me everything!”

Jiang Qihuai said nothing.

Tao Zhi looked at him. “I’m talking to you. Did you hear me?”

The little girl looked every bit like she had turned the tables, commanding him with her chin lifted high, her small face full of dissatisfaction.

Jiang Qihuai laughed. “I heard you, princess.”

Tao Zhi kept a straight face. “Then, I’m going back.”

Jiang Qihuai took out his phone and glanced at the time, then nodded. “Want me to walk you back?”

As he spoke, he turned to head back to the dorm to grab his jacket.

Tao Zhi hurriedly stopped him. “I can go back by myself. I’ll just take a car. It’s not even late right now. You should go back and prepare well for tomorrow’s exam,” she said seriously. “You can’t delay important things. Jiang Qihuai, don’t let love cloud your mind.”

Jiang Qihuai laughed again, his voice low and deep. “Mm.”

Tao Zhi kept her serious expression, turned without a change in face, pulled open the door to the corridor, stepped inside, and closed it.

Jiang Qihuai looked at the closed door, standing still.

It was quiet for over ten seconds.

Then came a series of muffled thumps mixed with a girl’s sharp little screams, faintly leaking through the door.

After shouting for a while, she began to hum a tune. Her voice grew softer and softer until it disappeared completely.

Jiang Qihuai chuckled lightly, lowered his head, and licked the corner of his lips.

Tao Zhi walked out of the dormitory building, happy beyond words.

In front of Jiang Qihuai, she had to keep up her idol image and couldn’t act too obviously—she had to be reserved.

Only after she entered the stairwell and closed the door behind her did Tao Zhi hold her breath, waiting for a while, until she figured Jiang Qihuai had probably gone back to his dorm.

Then she couldn’t help herself—she started hopping in place, then running in circles.

The narrow landing didn’t give her much room to move, so after a few turns, Tao Zhi started bouncing down the stairs, humming as she went, light and unhurried.

The temperature outside was much lower than inside the dorm building. The cold wind rolled through with dry leaves, but Tao Zhi didn’t feel cold at all. She even had a thin layer of sweat on her back. Standing at the entrance, she took a deep breath—never had she thought city air could smell this good.

Tao Zhi tried to restrain herself, pressing her fingertip against the corner of her lips to pull them down—but found she couldn’t.

She went on humming, dancing as she spun and hopped down a few short steps.

The dorm matron on the first floor gave her a strange look, then shook her head.

Kids these days—studying must’ve driven them crazy.

Tao Zhi had just stepped off the stairs and was about to head toward the school gate when the dorm door behind her opened again.

She froze mid-motion, her arm still raised in the air like she was holding an invisible samba pose, and turned around.

Jiang Qihuai stood at the doorway, wearing a jacket, looking straight at her.

Tao Zhi’s movements stopped; the big smile froze on her lips, her whole body going rigid. In an instant, she quickly hid her hands behind her back. “Why did you come down?”

Jiang Qihuai pretended not to notice that she had just been dancing at the door like a silly little fool. “Want me to walk you to the car?”

Tao Zhi turned her head and answered obediently, “Oh.”

The two of them walked forward side by side, neither speaking. Tao Zhi lowered her eyes, sneaking a glance at Jiang Qihuai’s hand hanging by his side. She felt a restless urge but, in the end, managed to hold it back.

When they reached the school gate, Jiang Qihuai spoke a few words to the guard.

Evening self-study for the third years was about to end, and a long line of taxis waited outside the gate. Tao Zhi pulled open the door of one. Perhaps because she still felt embarrassed from being caught dancing earlier, she darted into the car quickly and slammed the door shut with a bang.

It wasn’t until the car had driven quite a distance that she turned her head to look back.

The boy’s figure stood tall and straight, blending into the night. He remained in place for a moment before turning around and walking back.

Tao Zhi leaned happily into the seat, beaming.

When she got home, the first floor was empty. Tao Zhi crept upstairs like a thief, tiptoeing all the way back to her bedroom. The first thing she did was grab her phone from the desk.

Holding it, she curled up on the small sofa and sent Jiang Qihuai a WeChat message.

【Zhizhi Grape】: I’m home!

【A Secret】: Mm, rest early.

“……”

That’s it?

Tao Zhi couldn’t believe it. They had just gotten together—how could his reaction be this cold? At least chat for a few more sentences! Say something sweet!

Puffing her cheeks, she immediately initiated a video call.

After a few moments, Jiang Qihuai answered.

As soon as the video connected, Tao Zhi didn’t even wait for him to speak before complaining, “You’re way too cold! Why won’t you talk to me?”

Jiang Qihuai was silent for a moment, not yet managing to respond.

Tao Zhi, lying on the sofa with puffed cheeks, continued accusingly, “And saying ‘rest early’ is so official! You have no sense of romance at all.” She scolded seriously, “You shouldn’t say that.”

Jiang Qihuai looked at the screen—her little face was puffed up, round and soft, and he felt the urge to poke it. “Then what should I say?”

Tao Zhi thought about it seriously. Then, feeling a little shy, she said in a small voice, “You should say, ‘Goodnight, baby.’”

Jiang Qihuai paused. “Now?”

Tao Zhi immediately perked up, sitting upright on the sofa, lips pressed together as she smiled brightly at him, her eyes sparkling. “Can you?”

“It’s not impossible.” Jiang Qihuai tilted his head slightly and angled the phone to the side.

At that moment, three heads behind him appeared neatly lined up on the screen, all staring right at it.

Tao Zhi: “……”

Seeing that the camera was pointed directly at them, the three boys didn’t bother hiding anymore and leaned forward openly.

One of them smiled with crescent-shaped eyes and greeted her in a perfectly polite tone. “Hello, little sister. I’m Lu Jiacheng—your boyfriend’s roommate.”

In the video, several heads suddenly appeared at once.

The little girl on the screen hadn’t yet reacted—her expression froze, and she didn’t make a sound.

Lu Jiacheng spoke up for her indignantly: “Little sister, Jiang Qihuai is way too cold. How can you even date a guy like this?”

He Zhixun, watching the show from the side, added gleefully, “If it’s not working out, just break up already.”

“I can introduce you to my childhood friend,” Lu Jiacheng said leisurely, looking at the phone screen. “Funny, witty, romantic, lively—he’s your best next option. Think about it. If you break up today, I’ll have him delivered to your lab by tomorrow.”

Tao Zhi came back to her senses, was silent for two seconds, then smack—hung up the video call.