Think about it.

Think really hard.

But Ying Ni couldn’t think at all. Her mind was stuffed full by Su Yun’s words, leaving no space, almost to the point where it was about to explode.

So, she leaned against a telephone pole plastered with advertisements and slowly crouched down.

Her posture resembled a pitiful beggar or maybe a street thug. The voice she spoke with didn’t even sound like her own.

“Why can’t you just say it directly? Why do I have to think about it?”

“Everything.” Chen An caught the key word.

Tonight, the moon was dim, and the streetlights were weak and flickering, as if the power was running low. Ying Ni tilted her head back, struggling to look at him, her arms crossed, leaning on her knees.

Maybe because her skin was too pale, a little light fell on her, clearly showing the exhaustion in her eyes.

She weakly nodded.

Yes. Everything.

Her aunt had called, asking her to go on a blind date, saying that if she didn’t have money for surgery, what would happen? She had to think about her mother, after all.

Before Su Yun fainted, she had desperately pleaded with her: even if she didn’t care about her, she should at least think about Zhou Siyang.

And now he was telling her the same thing: think carefully.

Think. All it took was to use her brain.

It seemed like an effortless task, but in just a few moments, she was already mentally and physically drained.

Chen An picked up on the hint in her words. “What did she say to you?”

Ying Ni didn’t respond, slowly lowering her eyelids. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Chen An taking steps toward her. When he stopped in front of her, the shadow he cast blocked out all the grayish concrete around them.

After a slight delay, as if reacting a second too slow, she finally looked up and asked with a counter-question:

“Has he fallen back into depression again?”

No names, just pronouns.

Chen An of course knew who she was talking about.

“He’s been off the meds for a year now.” Chen An put his hands in his pockets, his gaze falling on her overly long eyelashes. “But if you want to know the details, you should ask him yourself.”

“How should I ask?” Ying Ni continued to sulk.

“You can ask however you want—call him, text him, or ask him in person.”

“In person?” Ying Ni let out a snicker. “Should I make his mother faint again?”

Not to mention, asking Zhou Siyang directly was out of the question for her.

Chen An crouched down, resting his elbows on his thighs. The neatly pressed dark trousers stretched tight, showing the kind of strength only adult men had.

With a hint of amusement, he asked, “So you really need to win or lose?”

Ying Ni buried her head lower, turning her body to face away from him.

She didn’t want to look at Chen An, or rather, she was afraid to. He always had a way of seeing right through her without even trying.

But she couldn’t deny that Chen An had hit the spot with his words. She had long passed the age of needing to win or lose, but when it came to relationships, she was likely to fight for it her whole life.

In the end, she had learned that from Lin Rongyuan, who was spoiled by her father, Ying Junyu. In front of Ying Junyu, Lin Rongyuan was always right, even when she was wrong. Ying Junyu never got angry but would go to great lengths to appease her, even neglecting the homework that Ying Ni was supposed to be checking.

She had grown up with colorful romance novels.

And had turned out this way.

“If I were you, I would go find him right now.” Chen An said.

Ying Ni threw a little tantrum. “Then you go.”

Chen An simply sat down beside her, his legs half open, his arms resting on his knees. The sharp black suit didn’t seem to fit the worn-out steps they were sitting on, but whether it was the night blending perfectly with him or his naturally easygoing demeanor, it didn’t feel out of place. In fact, it looked almost comfortable.

Like he hadn’t sat like this in a long time.

“Have you ever climbed a mountain?” Chen An suddenly asked.

Ying Ni glanced at him sideways, thinking, Is this really the time to discuss something like this?

Chen An continued, “I climb mountains often. The first one I climbed was Mount Siguniang, over 5,000 meters in altitude. It’s an entry-level snow mountain, but even with full preparation, many people can’t make it to the top in time to see the sunrise.”

Ying Ni rolled her eyes. “Oh, you’re so amazing.”

Chen An ignored her sarcasm and casually tapped the ground with his shiny leather shoes.

“Actually, the obstacles we can’t get past are like mountains. Once you reach the pass, you should push through and reach the peak in one go. Once you retreat, it’s hard to summon the courage again. And then you can never climb back up. Every time I think about the discomfort at the pass, I always remember that mountain.”

Although Ying Ni’s mind was foggy, she wasn’t stupid.

She lifted her head, her gaze landing on the man’s strong nose.

“Whose side are you on?”

Did he want her to reconcile, or to forget everything after crossing the mountain?

“I’m on my own side.” Chen An said.

Ying Ni silently watched him for two seconds, then hugged her knees, burying her head between her legs.

She thought, He has no idea what a deeply impactful love does to a person.

Maybe in his eyes, love could be as quantifiable and solvable as the parameters of the batteries he sold.

Which is why he spoke so solemnly, so nobly.

“Chen An.” After a long while, she suddenly lifted her head.

At the sound of her voice, Chen An turned his body, letting his hand, which had been resting on his knee, naturally drop. Their gazes collided in the quiet night, and it was hard to tell who felt more tense.

“When did you start liking me?”

As soon as she asked that question, Chen An’s heart skipped a beat.

When?

To be honest…

He didn’t know either.