The Fifth Pill

Exposed

Ahead of him in line was a family of three. The child was making a fuss, pointing at the lollipops on the counter, clamoring for one.

He clearly disliked crowds, maintaining a distance wide enough for another family to fit between him and them.

Gui Tingyue stood behind a shelf, slightly peeking out, cautiously observing him.

At the same time, her mind was racing with thoughts, trying to figure out how to approach and start a conversation with him.

The family didn’t buy much, and soon bagged their items and headed for the exit.

It was his turn now.

The man lowered his head and began taking out the items from his shopping basket one by one. From this distance, she could see his slightly drooping eyelashes—straight and long rather than curled.

The cashier started scanning the items and asked if he needed a bag.

He responded in a low voice.

Gui Tingyue’s heartbeat grew more intense, her brain nearly shutting down amidst the monotonous beeping.

She took a deep breath and quickly walked up behind him.

He was very thin, with pronounced shoulder blades vaguely visible through his loose black T-shirt. He was quite tall, requiring her to look up close, so he didn’t appear frail.

Gui Tingyue stopped there and saw his right hand idly tapping on the edge of the cashier counter, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, with an innate sense of rhythm.

His slender fingers appeared extremely powerful, accentuated by clearly defined knuckles.

The cashier placed the last bottle of mineral water aside. He picked it up and slowly stuffed everything into a plastic bag.

Suddenly, he paused, took the orange lollipop that the child had asked for his parents but didn’t get, and handed it to the cashier: “Include this.”

His voice was also textured, like the low notes of a cello.

Gui Tingyue had nearly suffocated, but this somewhat childish move instantly eased her nervousness.

She quietly smiled.

With this distraction, an idea sparked. She hurriedly placed two bottles of soy sauce on the counter, took out her phone, and turned off her 5G network.

While the cashier was scanning the lollipop, Gui Tingyue lowered her phone and nervously called out: “Ah, could I trouble you…”

The man standing sideways turned his head, and the sudden proximity of his features made Gui Tingyue’s pretense catch in her throat.

In that direct eye contact, his sharp face seemed to cut through her senses.

Under the brim of his hat, his eyes were deep and dark. Gui Tingyue swallowed slightly, her actions and demeanor inevitably becoming restrained.

She feigned composure and raised her phone slightly: “I just realized my phone is out of service. Can I borrow your hotspot to pay?”

People indeed can unleash infinite potential under high pressure; she could even come up with such a flawless excuse.

He looked at her hand, then at the two bottles of “twin soy sauces” standing side by side, before looking up to tell the cashier: “Add these two bottles of soy sauce as well.”

The cashier paused, then did as he said. After scanning the code, she asked: “Do you want them in the bag together?”

“No need.”

“No need.”

They both replied simultaneously.

Gui Tingyue turned her head to look at him, but he still only offered her a near-perfect profile.

The cashier smiled and agreed, eyeing them both with a knowing look typical of middle-aged people watching young ones.

The man pulled up his WeChat payment code and paid. He then grabbed his shopping bag and started to leave.

The development deviated from her expectations. Gui Tingyue secretly caught her breath, quickly picked up the soy sauce, and ran to his side to thank him: “Thank you.”

Then she added: “Shall we add each other on WeChat so I can……”

The man glanced at her and said as he walked: “No need to pay me back.”

“……” Gui Tingyue was speechless for a moment, unable to utter a word.

Her mind was in a mess, she could only follow him closely out of the convenience store.

The sky was still gray, much like her current defeated mood.

Gui Tingyue sighed very softly and looked at his back, unsure of what to do.

The door closed behind her, and the man walked a few steps before suddenly stopping.

Gui Tingyue, startled, stopped too.

He turned around, seemingly wanting to say something: “By the way.”

Gui Tingyue looked puzzled.

His tone was calm, not a warning, but certainly not a joke: “Don’t peep at me with binoculars again.”

Gui Tingyue froze, completely choked up.

Embarrassment instantly flooded her mind. She stared at him, ashamed and frightened, her pupils bright like glass beads.

The man also looked at her, as if waiting for her response and explanation.

A few seconds passed. The wind blew, but no one spoke. He ran out of patience, turned around, and continued walking into the community.

Gui Tingyue hurriedly stepped forward, not intending to quibble, only wanting to wash away her previous sneaky behavior: “I…can apologize…”

He stopped again and looked at her, as cold as before.

Gui Tingyue blushed: “I’m sorry.”

His brow furrowed very briefly, and he asked as if interrogating: “Why were you watching me?”

Gui Tingyue’s lips turned white from pressing them together. After a moment, she began to speak: “I really like your drumming. I was curious about the person playing the drums. Later, I heard you lived in the building opposite, so I wanted to see what the person who could produce such drumming looked like, but it was too far away, so I couldn’t help but use binoculars.”

She took a deep breath: “I won’t do it again.”

His long eyelashes lowered and raised, his expression never friendly: “Do you know this is illegal?”

“I know. I just wanted to see when you would come downstairs so I could meet you by chance,” Gui Tingyue avoided his gaze, still expressing her apology: “I’m sorry. I know this is very dark and shameful. I won’t do it again.”

She then added with emphasis, solemnly: “I swear.”

Lies come easily, but the truth is always painstaking.

The dizziness of low blood sugar hit her. The flush on Gui Tingyue’s face completely faded, leaving her skin pale, cold sweat running down her back.

He watched her, lifting the shopping bag in his hand: “Today too?”

Gui Tingyue said: “Today was an accident.”

“But,” she changed tack, her eyelids fluttering as she took out her phone: “I just lied. My phone isn’t out of service. It was just to talk to you.”

The man’s lips suddenly curved into a smile with an unclear meaning, but this didn’t warm his expression.

Gui Tingyue stared at him, her trembling eyes looked guilty but honest.

“Alright,” he finally showed an expression of not bothering to quibble, but warned: “Don’t let me catch you again.”

Gui Tingyue’s arms hung heavily at her sides as she nodded.

Then she said: “I should still pay you back, and then you can delete me.”

He seemed a bit impatient: “I said no need.”

Gui Tingyue didn’t want to owe anything, completely unaware of her persistence: “Then I’ll go home, get some cash, and bring it to your building later.”

He paused, then put his hand in his pocket and took out his phone.

His thumb quickly tapped the screen a few times, then he held the QR code in front of her: “Add me.”

Gui Tingyue glanced at him in surprise, and without hesitation, opened WeChat.

The top of the list showed [Current network unavailable]. She hurriedly switched out to turn on the network: “Wait a moment.”

That spine-tingling low voice came from the side, slightly teasing: “Need to borrow my hotspot?”

Gui Tingyue froze, shaking her head: “No.”

While scanning the QR code, she saw his WeChat ID, “Chen Shi.” It was unique, hard to tell if it was just a username or his real name.

Gui Tingyue instinctively asked: “Your name is Chen Shi?”

He didn’t answer.

Gui Tingyue looked up to see him staring at her with his thin lips tightly closed.

Gui Tingyue’s breath caught slightly: “Just asking casually.”

***

Although she successfully added the man from the opposite building on WeChat, Gui Tingyue felt no joy of achievement.

After returning home, she handed the soy sauce to Auntie Li and then glumly returned to her room.

Lying on her bed, she held up her phone, checking “Chen Shi’s” Moments, only to find no content. He had it set to only visible for three days.

Gui Tingyue had no choice but to withdraw and honestly transfer the exact money for the two bottles of soy sauce to him, not missing a single cent.

She also composed a brief message to thank him.

Her “stalker behavior” had been exposed on the spot, making her fail at the first step of making friends.

What she thought was divine guidance turned out to be a predetermined outcome.

She would never have a chance to interact with him again.

She really couldn’t do anything right.

Self-loathing surged like a black dog growling at her heart, barking furiously at her dissatisfaction, then lying down, turning into an ugly rag, barely clinging to life, self-destructive.

Tears welled up in Gui Tingyue’s eyes. She rubbed her hair hard with both hands, got off of bed, took out the binoculars from her dresser drawer, and with a thud, threw them into the trash can along with the dust cover.

Curling up back on her bed, Gui Tingyue opened WeChat again.

She found that her transfer had been accepted, but there was no other message.

Gui Tingyue exhaled slowly, staring blankly at the empty screen.

Auntie Li knocked on the door, calling her out for lunch, but she didn’t make a sound.

A few minutes later, she clicked on “Chen Shi’s” Moments again, still set to show only three days, clean and empty.

Wait—

Gui Tingyue, pulling out of her dejection, wondered: He did not delete her?

She checked three times, confirming this fact.

She sat up straight, stretched her legs, and mustered the courage to send him a second message: You seem to have forgotten to delete me.

Two minutes later, he replied: Oh, I’ll do it now.

Gui Tingyue: ……

She was stunned for a moment, wanting to ask him not to, but feeling too embarrassed. In the end, she still opened his Moments, giving herself a final judgment and resignation.

Gui Tingyue was stunned. What greeted her was not the indifferent gray line of deletion, but the still somewhat humane “visible for three days” was still there.

A roller coaster of emotions

To be sure it wasn’t a system delay, Gui Tingyue returned to the chat box and carefully typed two words to confirm.

No rejection, no notification of being deleted as a friend.

Gui Tingyue propped up her lips, breaking into a delighted smile.

At the same moment, Chen Shi, who was taking out cold water from the refrigerator, raised his phone again to look at the message that popped up, the corner of his mouth slightly curving.

After thinking for a moment, he also replied with two words.

MoonPie: Thank you.

Chen Shi: You’re welcome.