Jiang Qihuai said many things that Tao Zhi felt she couldn’t understand.

Yet in a trance, she somehow felt as though she had still understood something from them.

The barbecue shop was lively and bustling, the heating turned up high, warm air radiating from the wall. Amidst the noise, Tao Zhi half-lowered her eyes and lay on the table, as if she had fallen asleep.

Jiang Qihuai got up to pay the bill, helped her put on her coat, and bent down slightly. “Zhizhi, let’s go home.”

Tao Zhi tilted her head, frowned, and pouted. “Why does Zhizhi have to go home.”

“It’s too late. Zhizhi should go back and rest early,” he said patiently.

Tao Zhi glanced at him. Whether she understood or not was unclear. After a long while, she slowly stood up, her coat draped loosely over her shoulders without wearing it properly, and walked straight out.

Jiang Qihuai followed behind her, holding her scarf.

Tao Zhi walked straight along the street, and Jiang Qihuai followed all the way. After walking more than ten meters, she suddenly turned around, lifted her chin proudly, and said, “I want yogurt.”

Jiang Qihuai lowered his head and suddenly laughed for no reason.

Tao Zhi looked at him in confusion. “What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing.” Jiang Qihuai pointed at the convenience store across the street. “Do you want to go buy some?”

“Want.” Tao Zhi’s eyes lit up, and she ran straight into the convenience store.

When Jiang Qihuai entered, Tao Zhi was standing in front of the refrigerated shelf. She already had five or six bottles of yogurt in her hands, and she was tilting her head, staring at another one inside the fridge. She raised her hand to grab it but found both hands full.

So she hugged everything she’d just picked up against her chest and reached out again.

Her fingertips had just reached out when a hand, coming from slightly above her, reached past her and took that bottle first.

Tao Zhi turned her head.

Jiang Qihuai placed that bottle on top of the pile of yogurt bottles in her arms. Watching her struggling to hold them all, he found it a little funny. “Hold them tight, don’t drop any.”

Tao Zhi pressed her chin against the yogurt cap and mumbled, “Aren’t you one meter sixty? How could you reach it.”

That was something from a very long time ago.

Jiang Qihuai looked at her, the corner of his lips loosening. “So when you’re drunk, you can link together all the things you said while drunk before?”

“When I get drunk, my memory gets better.” Tao Zhi’s eyes were hazy with intoxication, her voice low with frustration. “Before the college entrance exam, I should’ve drunk a bottle of beer first.”

Jiang Qihuai: “……”

When she finally finished picking, she ran to the counter with a full armful of bottles and jars. Jiang Qihuai paid for them.

She had chosen more than a dozen bottles of yogurt. The cashier took a bag and packed them one by one. Tao Zhi happily took the bag, walked ahead out of the store, and said, “Let’s go.”

Jiang Qihuai followed behind her, watching as she walked. Whenever she veered off course, he would reach out and gently guide her back in the right direction.

She was thus led along the whole way until they reached the car.

Standing before the passenger door for a while, Tao Zhi looked at him and said, “Jiang Qihuai, I want to drive.”

Jiang Qihuai: “?”

He directly opened the car door. “You can drive tomorrow.”

Tao Zhi refused. She said firmly, “I want to drive today.”

Jiang Qihuai simply pushed her into the car. “If you drive today, the only place you’ll be going is the police station.”

Reluctantly, Tao Zhi was stuffed into the passenger seat. Jiang Qihuai went around the front of the car and got in.

She stared straight at him, unblinking. Jiang Qihuai held the car key in his hand, but before he could insert it, she suddenly moved.

She kicked off her short high-heeled boots, knelt on one knee on the passenger seat, and leaned forward. Then, crossing over the middle console, she straddled him directly.

Her arms looped around his neck, her knees spread on either side of his legs, the pads of her thumbs pressing lightly against the sharp line of his jaw as she looked down at him from above.

Their gazes met.

The next second, Tao Zhi lowered herself. The girl’s soft chest pressed against him, carrying warmth and a faint scent of alcohol. Her breath brushed against him like feathers — ambiguous and lingering.

“A’Huai.” She called him.

Jiang Qihuai looked at her with deep, dark eyes.

“I like you very much,” Tao Zhi said softly. “I’ve always liked you.”

Jiang Qihuai paused for a moment, then answered in a low voice, “Mm, I know.”

Although he had realized it a little too late.

But fortunately, it was not too late yet.

“So,” Tao Zhi looked at him, her dark eyes calm, her thin eyelids tinged red, even the corners of her eyes flushed — whether from the alcohol or something else, he couldn’t tell — “don’t leave me again.”

Her voice was soft, her pace slow, her words a little slurred. “Don’t leave me again. I’ll be sad.”

She looked at him like a child wronged and hurt, stubborn and serious, saying the words one by one.

Jiang Qihuai’s throat moved. Some emotion, deep and heavy like the snow of midwinter, pressed down over him — vast, suffocating, aching.

He raised his hand, his palm landing on the top of her head, gently rubbing her hair, then drew her into his arms. “I’m sorry.”

Tao Zhi tilted her head up, looking at him askew. “Why are you apologizing?”

Jiang Qihuai lowered his head, kissed her feverish eyelids, then moved to the slightly cooler corners of her eyes. “For making my Zhizhi sad.”

Tao Zhi didn’t know which word of his pleased her; her eyes curved, her lashes brushing against his lips, ticklish. “But your Zhizhi is a very forgiving Zhizhi.”

Jiang Qihuai let out a quiet laugh and went along with her. “Mm, my Zhizhi is the most forgiving.”

“That’s what you say,” Tao Zhi shifted the tone, “but I can’t forgive you that easily.”

“……”

Tao Zhi lifted her head a little, moved back slightly, glanced at him, and said seriously, “You’ll have to let me drive today.”

Jiang Qihuai: “……”

The little drunkard was always hard to handle after drinking. She didn’t seem much different from usual, spoke clearly and coherently, yet would always make some strange, willful demands.

By the time the car reached home, Tao Zhi was still sulking over Jiang Qihuai’s refusal to let her drive drunk.

She had even compromised in the end, saying she’d only press the accelerator and brake while Jiang Qihuai handled the steering wheel — the two of them working in perfect coordination, perfectly on the road.

He still didn’t agree.

Tao Zhi squinted her eyes, watching as the car drove into the underground parking lot. After finding a space and turning off the engine, Jiang Qihuai turned toward her.

She quickly shut her eyes tight.

The surroundings were utterly silent. With her eyes closed, no light seeped in, and even her senses felt dulled under the numbing haze of alcohol.

For a long time, Tao Zhi didn’t hear any sound. She held out for a bit, but eventually couldn’t resist. She opened her eyes just a slit and glanced sideways.

Jiang Qihuai was leaning back in his seat, his face cold and expressionless, staring straight at her.

Caught red-handed, Tao Zhi met his eyes for a few seconds, then, acting completely unfazed, tilted her head, leaned against the passenger seat again, and shut her eyes, continuing to feign sleep — calm as though nothing had happened.

Jiang Qihuai suddenly let out a quiet laugh.

Tao Zhi opened her eyes, displeased. “What are you laughing at? I’m throwing a tantrum, and not only are you not coaxing me, you’re laughing?”

“How should I coax you then?” Jiang Qihuai asked sincerely, as if seeking advice.

“You still need me to teach you that?” Tao Zhi pouted.

Jiang Qihuai paused, seeming to think for a moment. Then he unfastened his seat belt, got out of the car, and walked around.

He opened the passenger door and stood beside it, both arms extended toward her.

Tao Zhi looked at his actions in confusion. “What are you doing?”

“Coaxing you,” Jiang Qihuai tilted his head slightly, lifting his chin toward the elevator. “I’ll carry you up.”

Tao Zhi blinked, muttering, “It’s just a short distance. Aren’t you being dramatic?”

“So do you want it or not?”

“Want,” she sat up at once, unfastened her seat belt, lifted her head, and raised her arms toward him with a sweet smile. Her voice was soft and sticky. “Your Highness, hug me.”

The parking spaces closer to the elevator were usually privately reserved, so where Jiang Qihuai parked was a bit farther away — they still had some distance to walk.

He had said he would carry her, but once he picked her up, Tao Zhi felt awkward about it, and in the end, she made him carry her on his back instead.

Her chin rested on his broad shoulder, her arms looped around his neck, her breath brushing faintly against the bare skin of his neck — soft, tingling, and feather-light.

Tao Zhi’s fingers hung loosely over his chest, the tips playing with each other. “Jiang Qihuai.”

“Mm?”

“When I went to see my mom the other day, I saw Grandpa Jiang,” Tao Zhi said.

Jiang Qihuai’s steps faltered slightly, but he continued walking forward.

“Was Grandpa sick?” she asked softly.

After drinking, she always talked more — saying the things she couldn’t normally bring herself to ask.

“An accident,” Jiang Qihuai said. “Gas explosion.”

His voice was a little hoarse.

Tao Zhi didn’t speak.

Accidents like that were things she had only ever seen in reports and news broadcasts — a few years ago, several explosions and fires had occurred in old residential areas due to aging and corroded gas pipes. The government had later conducted large-scale inspections and replacements, and in recent years, she hadn’t heard of such incidents again.

Grandpa Jiang was such a good person.

Why did good people always have to experience so many bad things?

A sudden sadness welled up in her chest. She swung her legs lightly, her voice low and dull. “Then what about that annoying guy?”