Chapter 2: The Summer Night of Reunion Was Shocking…

The only new towel in the house was draped over Fang Fuyi.

She had gotten caught in the rain and taken a hot shower. When she stepped out wearing a pair of wet, oversized slippers, she finally had a moment to look around the small, cramped room and at the young man in front of her, whose expression didn’t look too good.

The room was simple but meticulously tidy, with everything neatly arranged—it had a distinct personal touch.

Sheng Sui had probably taken the chance while Fang Fuyi was in the shower to change out of his wet clothes. He was now wearing a sleeveless tank top, exposing his firm muscles to the air.

He had lit a fire on the stove and pushed a freshly boiled cup of hot ginger tea toward Fang Fuyi, trying hard to keep his voice calm and emotionless: “Drink it.”

“While it’s hot.”

The young man had sharp features and a high nose bridge. The corners of his eyes naturally lifted upward—he usually looked gentle, but when not smiling, he came off as somewhat cold.

His muscular build was well-defined, with a strong waist and back—his body clearly the result of hard labor. After half a year working on a construction site, his skin had tanned to a healthy dark shade. His pupils, though, were jet black and striking—his eyes unexpectedly captivating.

When their gazes met, Fang Fuyi was reminded again of what she had seen earlier, when she spotted Sheng Sui at the mouth of the alley.

It was raining that night they met.

This was her first time seeing him again after more than half a year.

He should’ve been at the age for college, but here he was, worn down by life.

She had seen the tall man carrying a metal lunchbox and a cold beer, along with a bunch of odds and ends, half-leaning against the wall, crouching to feed a cat.

Still as kind-hearted as ever.

That part hadn’t changed.

As he fed the cat, he was muttering to it, as if he was about to leave, crouching down to gently pet the kitten, asking if it wanted to go home with him.

Unfortunately, the cat refused.

Haha.

The dim lighting seemed to cast a retro filter over everything.

Fang Fuyi had stood in the shadowed corner, watching Sheng Sui finish feeding the cat, say goodbye to it, then fall into a daze as he stood there. In the faint, unclear light, she tilted her head slightly and saw how gray and somber he looked, as if shrouded in gloom.

Even though it was raining, he hadn’t left right away.

He hadn’t been like this in the past.

So she called out to him.

Perhaps because it was too sudden, Sheng Sui had clearly frozen upon hearing his name, his body jerking slightly and then going stiff.

There was a strange tension in the air.

Fang Fuyi thought that at first, he didn’t want to agree, nor did he want to let her follow him back. But maybe, because the rain was just too heavy, he reluctantly said “keep up” after snapping out of it.

The alley with the canopy couldn’t fully block the rain.

Summer clothes were thin, and Fang Fuyi’s were completely soaked, clinging to her uncomfortably.

Even though she was now wrapped in Sheng Sui’s shirt, wearing the shorts he gave her—everything on her was his—none of that stopped her from acting imperiously. She pushed the bowl of hot ginger tea back toward him with a little tantrum, willful enough to think this would make him care: “I’m not drinking it!”

She didn’t even dislike the taste of ginger.

She just didn’t like the sense of distance Sheng Sui had deliberately put between them.

The air pulsed with unspoken tension. Outside, the rain poured down in waves, raindrops pattering heavily on the ground. Inside the house, they could still faintly hear the neighbor’s snoring.

It had been dark earlier, and she couldn’t see clearly.

But now, in the bright light of the rental room, Fang Fuyi carefully examined Sheng Sui again.

He looked tanner than before, but also leaner—his eyes deeper-set, features more defined. His knuckles were tinged pink, veins prominent on his arms. Compared to before, he now had the mature aura of a grown man.

A different kind of attractiveness.

Fang Fuyi stared at Sheng Sui without blinking, seeing her own reflection in his dark pupils. She thought he was going to say something meaningful—but after waiting and waiting, all she got was: “Okay.”

“Then don’t drink it.”

Her chest rose and fell sharply, her fair cheeks flushed pink from the heat. Rage burned inside Fang Fuyi—she wanted nothing more than to punch Sheng Sui.

Although he’d always been emotionally steady, he wasn’t someone without temper. He had principles and opinions, his own set of rules. Back in high school, she’d even heard he got into a fight once.

After over half a year apart, she didn’t understand how he’d become like this.

Like an old tree on the verge of withering—nothing could stir even the slightest ripple in him. If it were the old him, he would’ve already found a way to soften things. He would never have brushed her off so lightly, so indifferently. He even treated a stray cat with more affection than her.

“Sheng Sui!”

This was the second time Fang Fuyi had called his name today.

Her pale skin glistened with a sheen of sweat on the tip of her nose, her face flushed red.

The burning in her stomach, which she had tried to ignore, could no longer be pushed aside. She raised her leg and kicked Sheng Sui.

It wasn’t so much anger as it was her way of looking for a place to let out all the bottled-up frustration she’d been carrying.

Fang Fuyi suddenly had so many things she wanted to say. She wanted to ask him why he had left without a word, why he had erased himself from her life so completely, not even leaving a goodbye. She had been willing to face the hard times with him.

But after holding back for so long—long enough that the snores from next door changed rhythm—all she could do was sigh in the end, then reach out and point to the band-aid on his brow, curling her lips. “What happened to your forehead?”

“I’m asking you!”

“Are you stupid or just mute now?”

Sheng Sui froze for a moment, dazedly touched his own forehead, then finally realized Fang Fuyi was talking to him.

Actually, the two of them weren’t that distant. Even after not seeing each other for over half a year, being in the same room didn’t feel awkward. But maybe it was just habit—his earlier decision to cut ties with her had momentarily been forgotten. So he responded to her without thinking: “I bumped it by accident.”

“Oh? Then you’re really quite clumsy.”

The silent battle between them slowly spread like smoke.

The room became their battlefield.

Fang Fuyi wanted to keep up the sarcastic tone, to see what stiff, customer-service-style response Sheng Sui would give next—but then her stomach unexpectedly let out a long “gurgle,” cutting her off and throwing her thoughts into chaos.

Only then did Sheng Sui seem to come back to life, like his soul had returned to his body. He quickly tied the apron that had been draped over the chair and stood up. “I’ll make something to eat.”

“Isn’t there instant noodles over there? I’ll just eat that.”

Fang Fuyi was still being stubborn, deliberately saying it loud enough for him to hear: “Life’s been tough lately anyway—sometimes I eat, sometimes I don’t. Just having food is already a blessing, so who cares what it is?”

She reached out to grab the instant noodles, but before her hand touched the table, Sheng Sui had already taken them away.

“That stuff’s not healthy.”

“Not healthy? Then why’d you buy it? Just to display it like a shrine?”

The girl didn’t hold back at all. “Or is it unhealthy for me, but turns healthy when you eat it?”

Sheng Sui had been living alone and viewed eating as nothing more than a way to fill his stomach. As long as it was edible, it was fine—he didn’t put much thought into it.

He could get by with whatever.

But he didn’t want Fang Fuyi to live like that.

So even when she was deliberately saying the opposite—“instant noodles are fine,” “just having food is good enough”—he still put the cup noodles somewhere out of her reach, tied his apron properly, and went into the kitchen, leaving only one line behind: “I’ll cook now. It won’t take long.”

These low-rent apartments didn’t have much of a layout.

The “kitchen” was really just a small space partitioned off with a curtain. Inside were basic supplies—rice, oil, salt, cooking utensils, and a simple stove.

Sheng Sui’s back was straight as he worked. He wore a sleeveless top and gray pants, tied with a floral apron that didn’t really fit him, skillfully sorting vegetables, peeling, and cooking in the tiny kitchen area.

Sheng Sui could cook, and he cooked well—he always had. In fact, he was even better than Fang Fuyi’s mom, who constantly said things like “A woman should know how to cook,” and “To win a man’s heart, you have to win his stomach.”

But unlike people who say one thing and do another, when Sheng Sui said “It won’t take long,” he meant it.

He pulled out whatever ingredients were left at home.

And soon enough, several steaming homemade dishes and a bowl of rice heaped to the brim were placed in front of Fang Fuyi. Even the ginger tea he’d left aside earlier had been reheated and brought back to the table.

Fang Fuyi didn’t deny that she’d exaggerated a little earlier when she acted pitiful—but some of what she said wasn’t a lie. She really was hungry. It had been days since she’d sat down and had a proper meal like this.

The smell of the food drifted into her nose, making the hunger even more intense—her stomach started protesting again.

She held the small bowl in her hands, her whole body almost buried in it, head down, eating ravenously, devouring every bite.

Watching Fang Fuyi eat so heartily, Sheng Sui consciously gave her space and took the opportunity to shower while she was eating.

The timing was just right. When he came out of the bathroom, Fang Fuyi had just finished eating. Even the hot ginger tea on her right had been gulped down completely—not a drop left.

With her hunger finally satisfied, and something in her stomach at last, she felt alive again. She sprawled on Sheng Sui’s bed like it was her own, resting on her elbows as she watched him clean up—scrubbing the pots and dishes, tidying up the room.

He had just taken a shower, and his body was still shrouded in mist.

His forehead was covered by damp bangs, his wet hair hanging down. Water still clung to his skin, droplets trailing along his smooth, toned body, leaving faint marks as they wandered down and finally disappeared below his lower abdomen.

For some reason, watching this scene unfold made Fang Fuyi suddenly feel the urge to stick a cigarette behind her ear and whistle at Sheng Sui—like one of those little punks squatting by the roadside.

But in the end, she managed to hold it in.

It was already late, and the lights in the room were turned off.

Rain was still falling.

Thunder rumbled now and then outside the window, flashes of lightning bursting across the pitch-dark night.

Fang Fuyi slept on the bed while Sheng Sui made a makeshift bed on the floor. Outside, wind and rain raged, but the room remained calm. It felt like all the noise outside had nothing to do with them. Their breaths intermingled in the dark, and once they quieted their thoughts, sleep came easily enough.

On the surface, everything seemed peaceful, but deep inside, their emotions were far from calm.

The room was dim, and in the darkness, he could finally allow his eyes to wander freely.

Lying on the bedding on the floor, Sheng Sui stared across the short distance at Fang Fuyi on the bed. Heat swelled in his chest, his heart felt like it was being tightly gripped, then released by an invisible hand. His mind was overwhelmed with thoughts, so much so that they were nearly spilling over. Even now, it all still felt unreal.

Why did Fang Fuyi know he was here? Why did she come to find him? What about the others? Was she really alone now?

Why now, of all times, did she come looking for him?

And in this situation, what could he possibly give her?

“Fang Fuyi.”

In the darkness, Sheng Sui’s voice quietly broke the silence.

He hadn’t even realized he was going to speak—but her name had already slipped from his lips.