After returning from the mall, Xu Er dedicated the entire afternoon to his bed.

He slept so deeply that when he finally woke up, it was already dark outside.

There were a lot of messages on his phone. Xu Er frowned and squinted as he replied to messages from his boss and colleagues, finally opening Xu Chen’s message.

He wrote, “Why can’t I add him?!”

Xu Chen replied, “The other party has set their contact card to not allow additions.”

Xu Chen continued, “Ahhhhhh!”

Xu Er looked up and suddenly remembered that he had spoken with Xu Chen on the phone earlier that afternoon, and Xu Chen had asked him for Song Ruichi’s WeChat contact card.

Well, since that’s the case…

Xu Er typed quickly, “Then I’m in the same situation; there’s nothing I can do.”

Xu Chen replied instantly, “I can’t add him on WeChat either. I’m so sad, it’s like the Pacific Ocean!”

Xu Chen continued, “How can he not allow anything? It can’t be that only his phone number can be added, right?”

Xu Chen added, “Are there any other channels?”

Xu Er replied, “I don’t have any.”

Xu Chen lamented, “It’s my first time being this close to my idol! I’m so frustrated, I’m so frustrated!”

Xu Chen continued, “What should I do? Is there any other way?”

Xu Er frowned even tighter. He put down his phone and stared blankly at the dark ceiling, seriously contemplating for nearly a minute.

From interpersonal relationships to social experience to online communication.

And then…

Xu Er said, “I can send him your contact card.”

Xu Chen responded, “Huh????”

Xu Chen continued, “Isn’t that inappropriate?”

Xu Er asked, “Why?”

Xu Chen instinctively felt it was wrong, but when Xu Er asked so seriously, he suddenly didn’t know what to say.

Although sending it didn’t seem like a big deal and wouldn’t affect Song Ruichi in any way—if he saw it and wanted to add him, he would; if he didn’t, he definitely wouldn’t.

So…

Xu Chen said, “Anyway, it’s just inappropriate.”

Xu Chen added, “Don’t send it.”

Xu Chen hurriedly said this, afraid that if he waited even a second longer, his brother would actually send it.

Xu Er replied, “I haven’t yet.”

Xu Er continued, “But I’ve thought about it, and this is the only way.”

Xu Er said, “Besides, what’s the difference between you adding him and him adding you?”

Xu Chen admitted, “You’ve stumped me.”

Xu Chen asked, “And then? If you send my contact card, what will you say?”

Xu Er replied, “Hello, sorry to bother you. This is my brother, Xu Chen. He really likes you and would like to add you on WeChat. Is that okay?”

Xu Chen said, “At first glance, it seems like there’s nothing wrong with it.”

Xu Chen added, “But then again, who am I?”

Xu Chen continued, “Why would he want to add me?”

Xu Er replied, “Then why would he want to add me?”

Xu Er said, “Who am I, anyway?”

Xu Chen was once again stumped.

He could even imagine the expression on his brother’s face—looking at him with confusion, thinking, “He would add me; why wouldn’t he add you?”

Xu Chen exclaimed, “Good question!”

Xu Chen added, “I’m asking you, too!”

In fact, Xu Chen was now doubting whether this WeChat account of Song Ruichi’s was real. If it weren’t for Xu Er being involved in this matter, he wouldn’t believe it at all.

Xu Chen asked, “Did you two talk about anything else afterward?”

Xu Er replied, “No.”

Xu Chen said, “Alright then.”

Xu Chen added, “Let’s just leave it at that; what you have is equivalent to what I have.”

At the end of the chat, Xu Chen emphasized once more that he must not send his name card to Song Ruichi; it would be too presumptuous. Their conversation concluded there.

After leaving Xu Chen’s chat interface, Xu Er opened the food delivery app and quickly decided what he would eat. Then, he felt aimless again.

After getting out of bed, he washed up briefly, opened his computer, refreshed his desktop a few times, and then went out to water the plants on the balcony.

It was really boring.

His friends often said he couldn’t sit still, and now that he thought about it, there was indeed some truth to that.

At that moment, Xu Er wanted to find something to do, but there was honestly nothing on his schedule for today. He had finished that draft in the early morning, and everything for this phase had come to a close.

He was now completely idle.

It’s not that he loved working; in fact, he hated it. Who doesn’t like being a lazy person who doesn’t have to do anything? His problem was that once he had unfinished business, he couldn’t help but worry about it, and it left him feeling unsettled.

So now that he had some free time, it was easy for him to zone out, just like when he watched the sunrise in the morning, with his mind empty and only the beautiful distant sun in his eyes.

After watering the plants, he received another message from Xu Chen.

He was still thinking about Song Ruichi: “Brother, brother, brother, send me Song Ruichi’s profile picture!”

But he quickly added, “Oh, never mind; I can see his name card.”

Since they were talking about profile pictures, Xu Er asked, “Do you recognize the cat in his picture?”

Xu Chen replied, “How would I know?”

Xu Er said, “Alright then.”

Xu Er added, “It’s quite cute.”

It should be especially cute.

The cat was gray and white, nestled in someone’s arms, with only a hint of a black shirt visible from the person. Aside from the figure, there was no other information indicating that it was a man.

Xu Chen: “Why don’t you ask him?”

Xu Chen: “Just bring it up in conversation!”

Xu Er: “Ask directly?”

Xu Chen: “Haha, I’m just joking!”

Xu Er: “‘My brother wants to know if the cat in your profile picture belongs to you?’”

Xu Chen: “???”

Xu Chen: “Don’t ask that, don’t ask that!”

Xu Er: “Hahaha!”

Song Ruichi’s ID was still “S.” Afraid he might forget who this person was in the future, Xu Er changed the remark to Song Ruichi.

After doing that, Xu Er opened up Song Ruichi’s profile page.

He’d noticed something looked different in a quick glance just now—it turned out the Moments section had a lot more photos.

He assumed those were recent posts, but when he opened Song Ruichi’s Moments, he was surprised to see that the latest post was from seven days ago.

Song Ruichi didn’t have a “visible for three days only” setting.

The post from seven days ago was about an art exhibition.

The first eight images were abstract paintings that Xu Er couldn’t quite understand, and the last one was a group photo with Song Ruichi and a few others.

Xu Er’s screen lingered on that last photo. He spread his fingers to zoom in, focusing solely on Song Ruichi’s part.

Hmm, he was quite handsome.

It suddenly reminded Xu Er of the same permed curls Xu Chen had last year.

Hmm, hard to say.

Song Ruichi didn’t post on Moments very often. This month was almost over, and he’d only posted twice.

One was about the art exhibition; the other was a simple text post.

Just an everyday message, saying: “Got soaked,” with a speechless emoji added at the end.

Xu Er glanced at the date and quickly recalled that day.

It was hard not to, really—it was quite the coincidence. That same day, Xu Er had also gotten drenched in an unexpected downpour.

Scrolling further down brought him to last month. Nothing especially notable there; Song Ruichi must have been pretty busy, as the feed was all links.

All from the same studio, which made it easy for Xu Er to deduce (with a bit of playful curiosity) that this “Liao Yu Yi Shi” studio was probably where Song Ruichi worked.

Though he didn’t really understand the content, Xu Er clicked open every single link.

Events hosted by Song Ruichi’s studio, some wood carvings, some paintings, guests who had visited—none of it made much sense to him, yet he looked through every bit of it without missing a thing.

Then he kept scrolling.

And kept scrolling.

When he came across everyday posts that weren’t all that funny, he still chuckled a bit.

Whenever he saw a photo of Song Ruichi—whether in a group or solo—he’d zoom in on each one.

After looking at so many, he could almost map out the layout of the studio in his head.

After seeing enough, it felt like he understood a tiny bit more about Song Ruichi.

He shared glimpses of his life—not often, and it was hard to say exactly what was different about it, but there was just this faint hint of an artist’s vibe.

Xu Er found it quite likable.

It wasn’t actually that much for half a year’s worth of posts, but Xu Er somehow managed to spend almost half an hour on it.

He finally stopped when he reached the notice, “Only posts from the past six months are displayed for friends.”

Xu Er usually didn’t spend much time looking at other people’s feeds; for newly added classmates, he’d just scroll quickly through. But without thinking much of it, he felt a sense of satisfaction from discovering Song Ruichi’s posts, extended from the usual three-day setting to six months.

With his mind now empty and relaxed, he wandered over to his own feed.

Because he suddenly remembered something.

Last month, at the same time, on the same day, Xu Er had also complained about the weather.

Yes, he’d posted about it himself.

“Can’t stand this rain that doesn’t call before showing up.”

At the time, he thought he was being so witty, and after posting, he admired his own humor for a good while—nearly amused himself silly.

Now, because he and Song Ruichi had both unknowingly complained about the same weather on the same day before they even knew each other, Xu Er was almost thrilled all over again.

But his delight was interrupted by a call from the food delivery.

He’d ordered himself a bowl of noodles. After slurping the first bite, he opened up WeChat again.

Initially, he was just planning to scroll aimlessly, but then he noticed an unread notification in the Moments tab.

He tapped in and found that the notification came from that cat avatar, accompanied by a small heart.

Song Ruichi had liked the last post visible in his six-month Moments history.

The happiness that had been so briefly broken had, in this moment, snuck back in seamlessly.

Xu Er’s noodles touched the corner of his mouth before finding their proper path to his mouth.

Well, in that case…

After finishing that bite, Xu Er put down his chopsticks, opened Song Ruichi’s Moments once again, scrolled down to the very last post, and gave it a like.

Consider it a gesture of returning the favor.

With the like given, Xu Er left Song Ruichi’s profile and exited Moments altogether.

Just as he was about to browse through some other apps, the notification area for Moments updates displayed that familiar cat avatar once again.

Song Ruichi had posted something new.

So, Xu Er clicked in.

The post was from just moments ago, the cat-avatar profile of Song Ruichi, with a photo and a caption.

When he tapped on the image, it expanded to reveal a sunrise and a lone silhouette.

Xu Er couldn’t help but break into a smile.

How could he not?

The sunrise was this morning’s sunrise, and the silhouette was this morning’s Xu Er.

Song Ruichi’s caption read, “Is that you?”

Xu Er’s eyes curved into a smile.

He opened the comments on the post and typed two words.

“It’s me.”

Not quite satisfied, he added an exclamation mark.

“It’s me!”