A nearby elderly lady who had just finished her square dance passed by and glanced at Zhou Qinyao with a look that seemed to reproach a heartless man, saying, “You’re really too much.”

Her companion chimed in, “The young girl fell, and you don’t even think of taking her home?”

The “heartless man” Zhou Qinyao: “…”

Fine, it seems like he owed her something.

Shaking his head, he quickly caught up to Tang You and snatched the bike from her hands.

Tang You was startled. “What are you doing?”

“Where do you live?”

“…”

Slowly realizing that he might be offering to take her home, Tang You felt a mix of surprise and guilt over her earlier anger.

After all, he had kindly helped her up.

In fact, when she calmed down, she realized she was angry with herself—why did she have to fall in front of him and let him see it?

The young girl lowered her voice apologetically, “No need, I—”

At the bustling intersection, Zhou Qinyao didn’t wait for her to finish. He swung his long leg over the bike, mounted it, and then forcefully pulled Tang You onto the back seat, pressing her down. “Hold on tight.”

…Hold on tight?

Caught off guard, Tang You was suddenly placed on the back seat, their bodies brushing lightly against each other with every slight movement.

Tang You’s mind went blank, and she suddenly straightened up, sitting as stiff as a statue, her heart pounding like a drum, her ears burning. How could she dare to hold onto his waist?

She clutched the back seat with all ten fingers, her voice so low that even she could barely hear it, “No need, I can just hold on here.”

“Alright, suit yourself,” the man replied lazily, then stepped on the pedal.

He was strong, and the bicycle shot forward. Tang You was pulled backward by the force, and instinctively, she grabbed onto his waist.

“…”

The irony of the situation hit her immediately.

Tang You was incredibly embarrassed, but with Zhou Qinyao riding the bicycle like it was a motorcycle, she didn’t dare let go for fear of being thrown off.

So, she cautiously let her hands slide down from his waist and grabbed the edges of his jacket.

Riding against the wind, the man’s lips curled slightly at her small movements. After a while, he spoke in a serious tone to scare her:

“If you don’t tell me where you live, I’ll take you to my place.”

“…I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you.”

In front of Tang You’s villa at No. 7 Huai Tree Street.

Zhou Qinyao finally stopped. Tang You got off the back seat, trying to calm her wildly beating heart from the wild ride.

“Thank you.”

Then, as if remembering something, she added, “Hi, I’m Tang You, but my friends call me Youyou.”

Zhou Qinyao nodded casually, “Zhou Qinyao.”

After introducing themselves in an awkward but polite manner, there was nothing more to say. After a few seconds of silence, Zhou Qinyao nodded toward the door, signaling for Tang You to go inside.

Indeed, she felt tonight had been crazier than any other day, and she needed a place to calm down.

So, after saying goodbye, Tang You turned and entered the house.

Once she was inside, Zhou Qinyao looked up, taking in the place where she lived.

—No. 7 Huai Tree Street.

What a coincidence, it was right across from where he lived.

But Zhou Qinyao was well aware that although they lived close to each other, they were not from the same world. Everyone knew that Huai Tree Street was famous for being divided by just one road, yet worlds apart.

He withdrew his gaze, crossed the road, and returned to the alley opposite. Suddenly, his phone rang in his pocket. Seeing the caller ID, Zhou Qinyao hesitated for a long time before answering.

The person on the other end spoke affectionately, “Brother.”

Zhou Qinyao paused and responded with a vague “Hmm,” as if acknowledging.

He barely spoke, only listening to the person on the other end. Soon, his expression turned sour, his eyes cold and sharp, and finally, as if losing patience, he abruptly ended the call:

“This has nothing to do with me. Don’t call me again.”

…

That call left Zhou Qinyao feeling inexplicably irritated.

He had graduated from college and come to City C two years ago, leaving that home behind for two years as well. During these two years, he had done many things he’d never done before. He got tattoos, raced cars, even fought and bled—indulging in wild excess.

After the madness came the slow process of letting go, and his inner peace gradually returned.

Although he didn’t have much money now, living alone, he had enough to eat and drink, and he was content.

But the thorn in his heart would occasionally, like tonight, flare up and prick him sharply, stirring his irritability.

Zhou Qinyao instinctively touched the chain around his chest.

The metal was cold, just like his heart, long devoid of any warmth.

He habitually reached for the cigarette pack in his pocket, but just then, he suddenly heard the faint sound of a cello nearby.

The sound was deep and mellow, carrying a somber, lingering tone. Zhou Qinyao instantly recognized it—it was a cello, and the piece being played was his favorite, Schumann’s “Träumerei.”

He froze for a moment, then instinctively turned to search for the source of the music.

Soon, he spotted a figure.

Across the street, in a warmly lit room, a girl sat by the window, her left hand pressing the strings, her right hand drawing the bow. Her graceful figure was framed by the light, and the white curtains gently swayed with the breeze, carrying the light and warm melody.

The tune was dreamy, and the girl seemed as if she, too, was part of a dream.

Leaning against a sycamore tree, Zhou Qinyao lit the cigarette he had been holding and took a drag.

The girl’s cello playing was skillful, steady, and powerful, captivating him. Her emotional expression was delicate and soft, with every note flowing smoothly, easing all the agitation and frustration he had just felt.

The streetlight cast a dim glow, and Huai Tree Street was unusually quiet at this hour. All that remained were the sounds of the cello, the evening breeze, and the two of them.

Gazing at the girl by the second-floor window for a long time, Zhou Qinyao suddenly felt a wave of emotion.

Earlier, when she had fallen clumsily in front of him, he really thought she was just a little girl, not yet fully grown. But now, with the music carried by the breeze, Zhou Qinyao felt a subtle, different sensation—

In his twenty-three years of life, this was the first time he had been seduced by a woman’s music.

Zhou Qinyao began to recall the girl’s introduction and the nickname she had mentioned.

Youyou?

He chuckled.

Hmm, interesting.