After all that mess, it was midnight again.

Fu Xiling had been drinking and couldn’t drive, so he didn’t head back to his parents’ place. Said he’d stay.

Even took a bath with Shi Zhi.

The process was wild—afterward, they both hit that post-action chill mode. In such a flirty vibe, the bath ended up weirdly innocent.

Both their phones sat by the tub, notification tones identical, so when one pinged, you couldn’t tell whose it was.

Shi Zhi’s work group chat was a mess of random stuff. Worried about missing something job-related, she wiped her hands and checked first.

It was Fu Xiling’s phone buzzing.

There was a TV screen built into the bathroom wall, playing some American show. Fu Xiling glanced at it, casually asking, “Who’s that?”

He leaned on his killer memory and never saved contacts.

Everyone in his phone was just an eleven-digit number—total equality.

Shi Zhi splashed water at his face, annoyed: “How the hell should I know!”

Fu Xiling, all good-natured, flicked his hair back, leaned against the tub’s edge, grabbed a towel, and wiped his face slow and smug: “Water got in my eyes. Check the message for me.”

Shi Zhi shot him a side-eye but read it out word-for-word—

Fu Xiling, I’ve actually liked you for a while.

It started when you covered for me with drinks. I know saying this might kill our friendship, but I still wanna give it a shot…

At first, Shi Zhi had a bit of a “let’s see the drama” vibe, but after a few lines, something felt off.

She scrolled down.

This girl wrote way too much—then sent a second message, and a third.

Shi Zhi’s patience ran dry. She shoved the phone at Fu Xiling: “Read it yourself.”

Fu Xiling skimmed it quick, set the phone down, and shifted his eyes back to the TV.

No comment, no reply.

The tub was in spa mode—water churning, bubbles piling up.

Shi Zhi messed with the foam, teasing him: “Now you know not to reply. What were you thinking when you blocked drinks for her?”

“What’s there to think? I was blocking drinks, not hitting on her.”

“Oh~”

The phone pinged twice more. Fu Xiling made a call, starting with: “Your cousin’s drunk. Year-end bar scenes are a mess—go look for her.”

The girl texting him was a friend’s cousin. No tolerance—first time meeting Fu Xiling, she tagged along, downed two beers, and hurled in the bathroom.

Right when a few dumbasses, blitzed out of their minds, didn’t notice and kept pushing her to drink.

“Me stepping in—wasn’t that just normal?”

Fu Xiling sounded pretty upfront. Clearly, the girl didn’t see it that way.

This wasn’t her first time texting him either.

Fu Xiling was a local—tons of friends. With the year winding down, gatherings were nonstop.

As for Shi Zhi, she still had half a month of work before the Spring Festival break. When she got tired or bored, she’d tag along with Fu Xiling after work to chill.

Fu Xiling was lazy about it—whenever he was with Shi Zhi, his phone, cigs, and lighter all ended up with her.

So when that girl texted again, Shi Zhi saw it.

She glanced at it and handed the phone to Fu Xiling.

He was greeting some friends who’d just rolled in, tilted his head to check it, nodded like he got it, and tried to brush it off.

Shi Zhi nudged: “Not replying?”

“If it were you, would you?”

“Nope.”

“Exactly.”

Fu Xiling took a beer from a friend, set it on the table, tossed over two decks of cards they’d asked for, and stuck to his mineral water.

He said, “Can’t afford to reply. Even her family knows I’ve got a girlfriend, and she’s still at it. Girl’s clueless—replying’s just more trouble.”

Shi Zhi caught on quick: “Wait, you’re still using me as a shield?”

She’d told him before—no more playing his fake girlfriend. And yeah, he’d stopped posting her pics in the family group chat after that.

The bar was loud as hell.

Fu Xiling’s buddies had just ordered a row of depth charges—little flaming shots dropping into beer glasses like dominoes, splashing and sparking cheers.

In the chaos, Fu Xiling leaned close, his breath brushing her ear: “Lately, the elders are seeing tons of relatives—all hyped to play matchmaker. Boss Shi, don’t leave me hanging.”

Shi Zhi turned, locking eyes with him under the flashing red spotlights, catching his grin as he said—

“Besides, I couldn’t swap even if I wanted to. No one else around me—just you.”

Not now didn’t mean not ever.

Shi Zhi didn’t say that out loud.

Truth was, some things she knew damn well.

Once she went abroad, whatever this was with Fu Xiling would pretty much fizzle out.

Like he’d said—“too far.”

She figured he might fly out a few times at first, but long-term? International flights, hours on end—no way that’d beat the convenience of girls nearby.

Shi Zhi made her choice knowing the outcome. Still, she never wavered over Fu Xiling—she picked studying abroad.

No relationship could stack up against career growth.

She said, “Swap when it’s time. Otherwise, your family might think you’re settled and start pushing you to bring a girlfriend home—then what?”

Fu Xiling glanced at her and tossed out five words: “Deal with it then.”

Right then, one of Fu Xiling’s super-tight younger bros showed up, bursting into the bar yelling “sister-in-law” and lunging over.

“Sister-in-law’s so cool! That champagne trick I pulled? Learned it from her!”

The kid bragged to his two buddies, all proud, then stared at Shi Zhi with puppy eyes: “Sister-in-law, got any other bottle-opening moves? There’s this girl I like coming later, and I wanna…”

Wanna show off for her.

Shi Zhi filled in his stammering blanks in her head.

Her own siblings weren’t close—barely anyone ever got all cutesy with her.

She didn’t brush him off. Glanced at the table, grabbed a beer, picked up a folding fan they’d been using for dancing, snapped it shut, and—same vibe as the champagne move—sliced the cap off with the fan.

“Holy crap! Sister-in-law’s badass!”

Shi Zhi played the part: “Like the champagne trick—practice a few times, you’ll get it. Easy.”

The kid was over the moon.

He’d studied abroad, super outgoing—lunged to hug Shi Zhi.

Fu Xiling, parked next to her, snapped the fan open with a “whoosh,” blocking him.

Folded it back, pressed it against the kid’s forehead, and shoved him back.

He said, “Thank your sister-in-law. Then go play—don’t keep bugging her. She’s got work tomorrow.”

Shi Zhi did have work.

Every day, coming back to Fu Xiling’s place after, she’d spot new stacks of big and small New Year gift boxes by the entrance.

The maid swapped out the flower arrangements too—red now, clashing with the room’s style but festive as hell.

For Shi Zhi, New Year or not, it didn’t mean much.

Her life wasn’t anywhere near as lively as Fu Xiling’s.

On New Year’s Eve, after clocking out, the office buzzed with cheer—everyone trading goodbyes as they split.

Shi Zhi still stayed at Fu Xiling’s, didn’t watch the Spring Gala, didn’t call anyone to swap blessings.

She could picture it—whether it was her aunt, her other aunt, or any relative, seeing her name pop up on their phone would make their hearts skip, terrified she was hitting them up again.

So just keep moving forward.

Didn’t seem like anyone was worth stopping or looking back for.

So, nearing eleven at night, when Fu Xiling walked in with a bag, Shi Zhi was—like every other night—hunched over her old laptop, blue-light glasses on, grinding her thesis.

Long hair still bugged her, so she twisted it up with a pen. Earbuds in, like all the festive noise outside had nothing to do with her.

Fu Xiling leaned by the entrance, watching her till she glanced up mid-thought, catching his reflection in the floor-to-ceiling window.

Shi Zhi’s usual line: “Why’re you here?”

Fu Xiling rarely drank out, but with family gatherings, he would.

New Year’s Eve—probably downed a decent amount.

He shed his coat, sank into the couch, paused a few seconds, then said, “Came to keep you company for the countdown.”

She’d overheard his friends at some hangout before.

New Year’s Eve and Day One, they had to be home—no matter how wild they got, no exceptions. Pure junior-only meetups waited till Day Two at earliest.

“Your family let you out?”

Fu Xiling said, “Fu Xifeng’s there.”

Fu Xifeng’s brain was a mess—always scheming useless crap. Instead of fixing his own business, he just tripped up Fu Xiling, kicking him when he was down.

Got chewed out by their uncle two days ago—banned from drinking too.

Didn’t help. Still a punk.

Heard Fu Xiling got tipsy and wanted to slip out to see his girlfriend—Fu Xifeng’s eyes lit up.

Put on this “good big bro’s gotta spoil the little bro” act, drove him over himself.

Fu Xiling’s eyes were shut, neck flushed, Adam’s apple bobbing as he talked. Rubbed his brow like he was uncomfortable.

Shi Zhi rarely saw him drunkish, grabbed a soda water from the fridge, handed it over: “You… drank too much?”

Fu Xiling opened his eyes, took the bottle: “Not really. They cracked open 53-proof baijiu—went down too fast.”

“Your bro’s probably up to no good.”

“Yeah, he’s shady. I know it. Probably stirring crap at home—gonna catch hell tomorrow.”

“Then why’d you come out?”

Fu Xiling went quiet—so long Shi Zhi thought he was too drunk to process—before he spoke.

He said, “Wanted to come keep you company.”

With him there, it did feel more like New Year.

He fired up the projector, tuned it to the central channel—laughter and chatter filling the living room. Even cooked dumplings in the kitchen.

The Spring Gala hosts and performers hit the stage together on the projector screen, ready for the countdown.

Fu Xiling brought out steaming dumplings he’d nabbed from home, set them in front of Shi Zhi.

Fireworks popped off outside, bursting in the night sky. The mall’s red lights morphed into a countdown clock.

Fu Xiling tossed her a red envelope outta nowhere.

Embroidered red fabric, fringed edges.

Shi Zhi held the thick packet, face blank, looked up: “You nuts? Red envelopes are for juniors.”

Fu Xiling leaned back on the couch, cracking up—shoulders shaking.

That pissed Shi Zhi off. She straddled his lap, went for his ribs: “Taking advantage of me!”

“Keep it. My grandma gave it to me—not much, maybe ten grand.”

Fu Xiling dodged her attack, hugged her, warm boozy breath brushing her neck: “Happy New Year. All the best.”

Shi Zhi froze.

For a sec, she didn’t know what to say, just: “Thanks.”

Fu Xiling eased up: “Get off and eat the dumplings.”

Shi Zhi tried his dumplings. First bite—spicy crayfish filling. She dealt with it.

Second bite—spicy crab meat…

Even a spice freak like her was floored, staring daggers at Fu Xiling: “You messing with me on purpose?”

“Nah.”

Fu Xiling said he knew she liked spicy, had the family chef whip it up special.

Then he leaned in, nabbed one with her chopsticks, popped it in his mouth, and winced: “Did my mom stiff the chef or what…”

“What else is in there?”

“Think it’s green peppercorn beef.”

“You eat it!”

That night, they didn’t do much—just messed around, chatted.

Fu Xiling said his mom was from the south—down there, New Year’s didn’t mean dumplings or tangyuan.

Shi Zhi said Shi Mei made pretty dumplings—neighbors praised them, said they looked like ingots.

After that too-cozy-to-recall New Year’s Eve, the new year kicked off.

Shi Zhi, like Fu Xiling wished, had everything go smooth.

Spring—she nailed her study-abroad acceptance, passed her thesis defense first try.

Early summer—she spoke as the outstanding grad rep, rocking her bachelor’s gown.

By the hottest part of the year, Shi Zhi had everything packed, ready to head out.

The night before leaving, Fu Xiling got back from a business trip. Walked in late, saw Shi Zhi gaming in the living room.

“Not sleeping?”

“Can’t.”

Shi Zhi wore a camisole nightgown, barefoot, walked over, hugged his neck.

He slipped off the thin straps, kissed her.

They went twice. Second round in the bathroom—steam curling, water beading on the tiles.

Fu Xiling said it felt like the humid “hui nan tian” he’d hit as a kid at his mom’s hometown.

Hui nan tian came with rain, damp seeping into every inch of air, unstoppable.

He said, “Shi Zhi, you’re like hui nan tian.”

That late night, Fu Xiling smoked at home in front of her for the first time.

Bathrobe on, leaning by the kitchen exit, the range hood sucked up the white wisps from his fingers.

He went quiet for ages, then out of nowhere asked Shi Zhi if she wanted to date.

Three hours till her airport run—after days of unease, his words kinda settled her.

Shi Zhi might’ve hesitated for a split second, but she shook her head, calm: “Still got my ex in my heart.”

She’d been down that road.

Dating a guy for real—Shi Zhi had believed in it, tried it, got nothing good out of it.

People were unpredictable, variables too many, effort and payoff didn’t match. Why try again?

She wasn’t saying she still loved him—just that the lesson her ex taught her stuck, unforgotten.

Short and sweet, but she knew Fu Xiling got it.

Sure enough, he smirked—faintly—flicked ash into the kitchen sink: “Pretty half-assed excuse, but I get it.”