Chapter 32

An apple fell from a tree and hit a man named Newton, leading to the concept of gravity.

Nian Qi had been watching those random science videos without any particular order. Ruan Qing had haphazardly downloaded them from various websites, and he simply clicked on whatever caught his eye. There was no logical sequence to how he consumed the information.

He also skimmed through the science textbooks Ruan Qing had bought for him—covering chemistry, biology, and physics. However, she hadn’t thought to include geography when placing the order. Nian Qi browsed the books here and there, but chemistry intrigued him the most. After all, in his line of work, killing wasn’t always done with swords—sometimes poison was involved. He was a little disappointed when he realized the books didn’t actually teach him how to make poisons.

His exposure to science was fragmented and unstructured, and topics like astronomy had never come up—until an apple falling from a tree metaphorically hit him on the head.

“The video mentioned something surprising,” he told Ruan Qing. “So I searched, ‘The Earth is a sphere.’ A lot of results came up—articles, videos…”

He had consumed them all, including vivid images of galaxies and the cosmos. It was as if a door to a new world had swung open, shattering his old understanding of reality.

“So, the moon is a sphere too,” Nian Qi said thoughtfully. Tossing the apple in his hand and catching it effortlessly, he walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window and leaned against the doorframe. Tilting his head slightly, he gazed up at the moon. “There’s no air up there, and it’s so cold it could kill you. So, no Guanghan Palace, no Chang’e, and no Wu Gang or Jade Rabbit, right?”

In many time-travel novels, a favorite trope was revealing the truth about the universe to ancient people, delighting in their dumbfounded reactions. Ruan Qing had once imagined she’d get the same thrill seeing Nian Qi’s world view collapse.

But now, as she watched him—his head tilted upward, city lights casting a soft glow on his face, the apple rising and falling in his hand with unerring precision—she didn’t feel triumphant at all. The night breeze tousled his hair, and there was an inexplicable melancholy about him.

It had been a long time since Ruan Qing felt like this. In the past two years, she had embraced a lifestyle of instant gratification, indulging without emotional entanglements. Living with Zhao Hao wasn’t something she enjoyed; sometimes she wished he would show up only when needed, fix the problem, and then leave as quickly as he came.

Sharing a space with him brought endless chores and petty issues, eating into her personal freedom. But since living here was better than her old dorm, and Zhao Hao had moved in of his own accord, she hadn’t bothered to kick him out.

Now, comparing him to Nian Qi, she suddenly understood why she felt comfortable cohabiting with the latter. It wasn’t just about who did more housework—Nian Qi’s presence, though tangible, didn’t intrude on her personal space. His existence seamlessly overlapped with hers, creating a strange sense of harmony.

Ruan Qing cleared her throat, pushing away the unwelcome thoughts swirling in her mind. Glancing at Nian Qi, she wasn’t sure how to comfort him. All she could say was, “Yeah, no Guanghan Palace or anything like that. The moon is just a satellite. It only ever shows us one side, with no atmosphere and no life.”

Nian Qi let out a soft “Mm” but kept his gaze fixed on the moon.

Ruan Qing’s gaze drifted down his jawline, following its natural curve. It was the kind of sharp, masculine contour that should have carried a distinct presence. Yet, under the city’s soft, ambient night glow—or perhaps because of his half-tied hair draped over his shoulders—he carried a certain ethereal grace, unlike the modern men bathed in neon lights and alcohol-fueled nightlife. In this rare, peaceful moment, the usual primal urges that tugged at Ruan Qing’s mind seemed to quiet down.

She found herself not thinking about the usual entanglements of men and women. Instead, simply enjoying the summer night breeze, admiring the man’s long, elegant neck and beautifully defined collarbones, felt surprisingly satisfying.

Under the moonlight, Nian Qi slowly exhaled, releasing the sense of insignificance and awe that had washed over him after his first encounter with the vastness of the universe. As he turned his head, he saw Ruan Qing leaning against the glass door, gazing at him.

Her usual bright, mischievous expression was gone. She wasn’t wearing the playful, sharp look she sometimes used to mask her emotions. Her eyes were unexpectedly soft, filled with tenderness.

For no reason he could explain, Nian Qi’s heart trembled. What kind of life had he been hoping for all these years? In his old plans, it was simple: a courtyard, servants, fertile land, and shops. A wife with a vague, unremarkable face. Children—many of them—faceless, their presence more an obligation than a joy.

But in this moment, all those dreams of land and servants felt like fleeting illusions under the moonlight. Yet, Ruan Qing’s gentle smile and the warmth in her eyes were vividly clear, making his heart skip a beat.

Ruan Qing, who had gone through a series of experiences since graduating—events that had shaped and hardened her—had long since shed any inclination toward soft, artistic emotions. Over time, she had embraced a fast-paced, passionate lifestyle. Gentle, lingering sentiments like these had become a thing of the past.

And yet, here they were, stirring inside her once more. Just as she allowed herself to sink into the moment, Nian Qi turned his head.

The young man’s handsome face and dark, fathomless eyes locked with hers. For a brief moment, the night breeze seemed to still.

A few seconds passed, and both of them quickly looked away.

“Uh,” Ruan Qing cleared her throat and turned around, “I haven’t changed my clothes yet.”

Nian Qi casually tossed the apple in his hand and slid the other into his pocket. “Oh.”

Without another word, Ruan Qing hurried into the bedroom. She stripped off her outer clothes but hesitated. Should she change into her usual loungewear or… the slip dress?

The fleeting mood from earlier had dissolved, and the more basic, physiological desires began to creep back in. If she wanted something to happen tonight, the slip dress would undoubtedly be the better choice. But would that feel too deliberate?

While she was still debating, she heard Nian Qi’s voice from outside the door:

“Ruan Qing, do you want a drink?”

Her heart skipped a beat. Hormones—those sneaky things—always worked both ways. Between two attractive people, the chemistry was bound to ignite. Was Nian Qi feeling it too?

“Yes, let’s have a drink,” she replied, already reaching for the slip dress.

Just as her fingers grazed the fabric, Nian Qi added from the other side of the door:

“Perfect timing. I just made a pot of braised chicken feet to go with it.”

Ruan Qing: “…”

Chicken feet? At this moment?

Shouldn’t it be steaks, red wine, and candlelight? Shouldn’t it be slip dresses slipping off shoulders, falling onto the floor between the living room and the bedroom?

In her mind, she imagined a cinematic scene—camera low to the ground, focused on the crumpled slip dress, with the bedroom door slightly ajar in the background. The figures on the bed should be blurred, moving just enough to hint at intimacy without revealing any explicit details.

But how on earth were braised chicken feet supposed to fit into that scene?

Her hand, which had been reaching for the slip dress, now curled awkwardly. It looked more like a chicken claw at this point.

Nian Qi had just finished setting things up on the balcony when he heard the door open. He turned around and saw Ruan Qing emerge, wearing loose, comfortable loungewear. For some reason, her expression was dark, a stark contrast to the softness she had shown under the moonlight earlier. It was as if she were a completely different person. Was she possessed?

Fortunately, as soon as she stepped into the living room, the aroma of food reached her. Her expression, initially frosty, seemed to thaw, melting like ice.

“Huh?” She took a few steps toward the balcony. “You even found this little table?”

The small table was unfolded and accompanied by two cozy folding lounge chairs. It turned out that the drink he mentioned was beer. That made sense—since arriving in this world, once Nian Qi had tasted beer, it had become a daily indulgence for him, rivaled only by his love for ice-cold cola.

“I was just trying to tidy up the balcony,” he explained. “I found this table set under some plastic. It looked like it might fit well out here, so I set it up to give it a try.”

It occurred to him that it would feel nice to sit on the balcony with a drink during the cool night. Since he knew Ruan Qing had a dinner gathering and wouldn’t be home to eat, he decided to braise some chicken feet as a snack. After all, even if she had dinner earlier, she always got hungry around nine in the evening and would start rummaging through the fridge or pantry for food. He figured it would be a good time to offer her something light to eat, since it was too late for a proper meal. Having recently learned how to braise chicken feet from watching Aunt Niu’s videos, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to put the recipe to the test.

“This table’s only been used two or three times since I bought it,” Ruan Qing said. “But it takes up too much space on the balcony and makes it hard to hang laundry. So I packed it away. Every time I want to use it, I have to pull it out and set it up again. Eventually, I just let it sit there and collect dust.”

Nian Qi smirked. “At least it’s better than the electric griddle. You only used that once before it started gathering dust too.”

The jab made her bare her teeth in a mock snarl, trying to look fierce, but the expression only made her look cute—so much so that Nian Qi momentarily forgot her age and saw her as a lively, youthful girl. Smiling, he handed her a cold beer.

He turned off the lights in the living room, leaving the balcony lit only by the city’s ambient glow. There was no need for more light—the city’s nighttime light pollution was bright enough that they wouldn’t accidentally stuff chicken feet up their noses.

Ruan Qing savored the snack with gusto. Even though she had eaten her fill earlier during dinner with a vendor, the tea and long conversations afterward had made her hungry again. The timing couldn’t have been better. Satisfied, she wiped her hands, took a sip of cold beer, and leaned back comfortably.

The dim lighting on the balcony, illuminated only by the city’s distant glow, was exactly the ambiance she had hoped for when she first bought this set of furniture. She used to live with a sense of style and taste—enjoy the atmosphere, then let the housekeeper clean up afterward. But after living alone, she came to understand the harsh truth behind ambiance: someone always has to clean up the mess. That was why most of her purchases, like the electric griddle and outdoor table, were left unused after just a few attempts.

Ruan Qing pulled her chair closer to the railing, kicked off her slippers, and rested her feet on the balcony’s base. Nian Qi glanced at her feet. Even in the dim light, he could see how delicate and fair they were. Her toenails were painted in a soft, grayish-pink hue that exuded elegance.

By now, Nian Qi had learned that the “nail salon” outside the complex wasn’t some shop selling armor like he had initially thought.

Taking a sip of his beer, he followed her example, kicking off his shoes and propping his feet on the railing base. But unlike Ruan Qing, he didn’t need to move his chair closer—his long legs reached easily.

They sat in silence, sharing the quiet night, sipping their beer. No words were needed; the tranquility of the moment was enough.

“Listen,” Ruan Qing said softly.

Nian Qi tilted his head, listening intently. After a long moment, he said, “The pond downstairs?”

There was a shallow pond in the middle of the complex, so shallow that even a small child wouldn’t be at risk if they fell in. The property management had initially stocked it with fish, but at some point, frogs began to appear, too.

Living on the upper floors gave Ruan Qing firsthand experience of how sound carried upward. She had even called the property management to complain about the frogs’ incessant croaking. However, the property manager had explained that the decision to raise frogs was made by the homeowners’ association to help control mosquitoes. And, to be fair, there had indeed been fewer mosquitoes by the pond since the frogs arrived.

Her complaints were dismissed, and every summer night, the croaking persisted, sharp and clear. It used to irritate her to no end. But tonight, for some reason, the sound carried a sense of peace, like the calm of a countryside night.

The breeze gently brushed the soles of her feet, caressed her calves, and kissed her cheeks. The beer in her hand swirled lazily under the light of the half-moon, adding to the tranquil mood.

How strange, she thought—this was a cold, soulless city. Yet, here she was, feeling a sense of calm that evoked memories of rural landscapes.

Perhaps it was because someone was sitting beside her. Someone who was quiet enough not to disturb her yet present enough to make her feel accompanied.

Since she fled her wedding and came to Jiangcheng—where she knew no one—she had always carried a shadow of loneliness. Even when she had a younger lover by her side, that sense of isolation never truly left her.