He was waiting near the entrance of a plush toy store.

One of the store employees happened to catch a glimpse of the man’s profile as he looked down and was stunned by his appearance, her eyes widening with admiration. Excitedly, she nudged another employee’s shoulder.

After some back-and-forth nudging between the two, one of them finally took small, tentative steps forward and asked enthusiastically, “Hey, handsome, waiting for your girlfriend? Why not consider buying her a surprise?”

Fu Yingcheng, showing little interest, was about to decline.

The store clerk held up a palm-sized, floppy-eared rabbit priced at 180 yuan and quickly introduced it, “This kind of comfort rabbit is really popular with girls! It’s made with baby-grade fabric, soft and skin-friendly. When she’s feeling down, hugging it can lift her spirits.”

Something in her words seemed to touch him, and the refusal he had been about to make was swallowed back. He looked up and asked, “Does it really work?”

“Of course, it works,” another store clerk couldn’t help but chime in. “There’s scientific research proving it! Plush toys can alleviate loneliness and promote the secretion of dopamine and love hormones in the body…”

Fu Yingcheng listened absentmindedly, his eyes downcast.

The scene he had unintentionally witnessed last night was still vividly etched in his mind.

The drifting smoke shrouded in the darkness of the night.

The girl’s desolate expression, her frail back, downcast lashes, and the tear at the corner of her eye.

A single, gentle tear, yet it felt like it burned as it fell deep into his heart, spreading a dull, suffocating ache that made it hard to breathe.

Since coming back from the brink of death, she hadn’t shown much fear or confusion, quickly adapting to the reality of ten years later, as if she didn’t care at all.

But in that single moment, he caught a glimpse of the fragility she should have had at her age after facing such a massive upheaval.

Yet, there were many things that were not his place to say, many things that were not his place to do.

Just like ten years ago, and just like now.

After all, they were not really close.

“Wrap it up,” he said.

Then, with a glance, he stopped the clerk’s movements and pointed to the display shelf up high.

“—I want the biggest one.”

*

Ji Fanling came out of the restroom and, through the passing crowd, saw the aloof-looking man standing expressionlessly, holding a rabbit almost as tall as a person in one hand, attracting the attention of passersby.

Ji Fanling’s pupils contracted slightly in surprise. “You bought this?”

“Or did I steal it?”

Fu Yingcheng’s face was tense, and he awkwardly raised his hand to pass the rabbit to her.

“Take it.”

The enormous rabbit loomed over her like a mountain, engulfing Ji Fanling in its shadow, leaving her mind in a chaotic whirl.

Fu Yingcheng bought her a rabbit?

Why?

Meals, accommodation, and even offering her a place to shower—those she could understand. The phone might have been something he had no use for. But a plush toy, which couldn’t be eaten or used… Wasn’t it unnecessary?

Ji Fanling struggled to hold the rabbit, and her mind turned slowly.

Could he actually be concerned about her?

Was it possible that he brought her out for noodles specifically so she could see Jiang Baixing?

…

Could it be that Fu Yingcheng was being… a little too good to her?

On the way back, the rabbit, strapped in with a seatbelt, lay sideways in the back seat, like an elephant in the room.

She wanted to ask him why he bought the rabbit.

But she couldn’t bring herself to say it.

Fu Yingcheng didn’t mention it, and Ji Fanling pretended not to see it, her gaze fixed on the amulet hanging in the car, swaying back and forth.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the man holding the steering wheel with one hand, his long fingers slightly bent. The black leather of the wheel contrasted with his cool, pale skin, emphasizing the sharp lines of his bones.

At the intersection, they encountered a long, ninety-second red light.

The hand on the steering wheel tapped it slowly, as if in thought.

Ji Fanling pulled herself out of her thoughts and, almost instinctively, glanced toward Fu Yingcheng.

“I suddenly remembered something,” Fu Yingcheng said, “Did you smell smoke at home this morning?”

“…”

Ji Fanling was silent for a moment. “No, did you? You don’t like the smell of smoke?”

“Wouldn’t say I like it.”

“I’ll make sure to come back after I finish smoking next time,” Ji Fanling replied immediately.

“What kind of cigarettes do you smoke?”

Ji Fanling reached into her pocket, pulled out a pack, and shook it slightly. “You’ve definitely never tried these.”

Not because they were too good, but because they were too cheap.

They were Hongjiang, ten yuan a pack, and Ji Guoliang’s favorite. When he got drunk, he’d lose track of things, so if Ji Fanling took a couple of his cigarettes, he wouldn’t notice. But there were also times when she hadn’t taken any, yet he’d grab her by the hair and force her to admit she had. It was a fifty-fifty chance.

Fu Yingcheng extended his hand toward her, and Ji Fanling, thinking he wanted a look, placed the pack in his palm.

To her surprise, Fu Yingcheng, without a word, directly took it away and tossed it into the storage compartment by the door.

Ji Fanling was immediately displeased. “Hey.” That was something she bought with the money she borrowed from Zhou Sui.

“Try this one.”

Fu Yingcheng pulled out another pack of cigarettes with his fingertips and casually tossed it into her lap, giving her a glance. “At least it doesn’t smell as bad.”

Ji Fanling picked it up, studying it with some skepticism.

The pack felt weighty in her hand, and the rolling paper had a beautiful pearlescent finish. It was a high-quality brand of women’s cigarettes, with a refined and elegantly slender shape.

When she brought it closer to her nose, a rich aroma, like that of bitter coffee beans, lingered.

“Smoking too much isn’t good for you,” Fu Yingcheng said casually. “If you want to smoke, ask me for one. Half a cigarette at a time.”

“Sure,” Ji Fanling replied casually, sticking to the principle that whoever pays gets to call the shots.

She was in a pretty good mood at the moment, and like a child eager to play with a new toy, she couldn’t resist pulling out a cigarette. “Let me try it out? Can I smoke in the car?”

“The lighter is in the glove compartment,” Fu Yingcheng replied.

Ji Fanling opened the glove compartment and was surprised to see a large bag of medicine boxes with names like “something-something-diazepam” written on the packaging.

She didn’t understand it and didn’t look closely. Instead, she grabbed the lighter, closed the compartment, and lit the cigarette with a click.

The first taste was a mild fir flavor.

It had a faint bitterness, but Ji Fanling couldn’t discern much beyond that. Compared to the harshness of the Hongjiang cigarettes, which felt like a spiky wooden stick stabbing into her nasal cavity and burning down her throat, this cigarette was like a gentle, cold stream flowing beneath the pine trees on a winter night—carrying a kind of cool, subdued warmth.

It also had a hint of the scent that lingered on Fu Yingcheng.

…

A very pleasant smell.

She finished half the cigarette just as the car pulled into the community’s underground parking garage, with the timing fitting perfectly.

Fu Yingcheng turned off the engine, lifted his gaze to her, and extended his hand, indicating that her allotted half-cigarette for the day was up.

“Really, just half?”

Ji Fanling had nearly forgotten about the rule, and she reluctantly sighed, “…Let me finish it, otherwise it’s such a waste.”

“Have you ever seen a lung cancer patient? They open up the chest cavity, remove lung lobes, lung segments, sometimes even the entire lung. Half of them started smoking before they were adults.” Fu Yingcheng lifted his eyelashes to look at her. “Is that what you want?”

“I’m different.”

Ji Fanling extended her left hand, holding it up right under his gaze, speaking slowly, “Do you see this?”

The girl’s hand was very pale, her ten fingers slender, and her wrist bones delicate and thin, carrying a chill that never seemed to warm.

Fu Yingcheng: “What am I supposed to see?”

“My lifeline.”

Ji Fanling gestured toward her palm, pausing meaningfully, “It’s—very—long—.”

“…”

A trace of mockery flashed in Fu Yingcheng’s eyes. For a moment, he wanted to refute her words but found himself unable to speak.

A dull ache, faint and persistent, seeped from deep within his heart, tugging at him.

His dark eyes remained impassive, his expression cold and emotionless like a still pond.

They lingered in a brief stalemate.

Ji Fanling clicked her tongue, lowered her gaze, and reluctantly handed over the remaining half of the cigarette to him before reaching to open the door and get out of the car.

…She thought Fu Yingcheng would extinguish the cigarette and throw it away.

But to her surprise, the man took it without any change in his expression.

Then, silently, he brought it to his lips.

Ji Fanling’s heart skipped a beat, and she froze, turning her head to look at him.

The man leaned back against the driver’s seat, his posture relaxed, and his profile cold and distant. He didn’t look at her, only gazed out the window.

His thin lips held the cigarette.

The ember at the tip glowed and dimmed in turn.

Pure white smoke slipped from between his lips, carrying a faint woody scent, spreading through the dim, confined space of the car.

The smoke grew thicker and denser, shrouding Fu Yingcheng’s sharply defined features and deep-set eyes.

---

Author’s Note:

Mr. Fu, you’ve become happier again.

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