CHAPTER 12: THE BLACK UMBRELLA

Ruan Zhizhi had been feeling a bit troubled recently. She had spent two sleepless nights finishing a news article, only to have her boss criticize it for inaccurately describing the psychological condition of the suspect.

When she received the feedback, Ruan Zhizhi was at a loss. Psychology had never been part of her professional background. From her perspective, the focus of the article was to present the facts; supplementary details didn’t need to be perfectly precise. But in the eyes of her perfectionist boss, merely stating facts was never enough.

Since she had just officially joined the company, she dared not make a mistake at this critical moment. So, she took the article back, diligently researched online, and began revising it herself.

It was already the end of January. Once she got through this month, spring would come in February.

The past few days had been extremely cold, with freezing temperatures outdoors. Had she not needed to be out of the house, Ruan Zhizhi would never have ventured out in this weather.

At this moment, she sat in that familiar café. Due to the cold, the usually busy coffee shop had very few customers, leaving it unusually quiet.

But that suited her fine—peaceful at last.

Ruan Zhizhi ordered an Americano and a box of macarons, then habitually walked to the left window seat, settled in comfortably, and opened her laptop.

The news article was about a young woman who, due to an out-of-wedlock pregnancy, was pressured by her family into marrying. After marriage, her husband was abusive, and her in-laws treated her with utter neglect—failing even to provide her with regular meals. Eventually, the child was miscarried. The woman, unable to endure the stress, killed her in-laws while her husband was away on a business trip, and then turned herself in at the police station.

However, during her testimony, the woman acted erratically. At one moment, she admitted to the killings; the next, she denied everything, even claiming in a frenzy that she had overheard her mother-in-law plotting to make her disappear or force a divorce.

Subsequent forensic analysis concluded that she suffered from severe schizophrenia, and the case remained under investigation.

Ruan Zhizhi sighed as she looked at her laptop. She had already researched numerous scholarly sources on schizophrenia, but the terminology was nearly incomprehensible to a layperson.

As she furrowed her brow over the returned article, the café’s doorbell rang crisply.

Ruan Zhizhi barely registered it, feeling a little dizzy. She fished a peach-flavored candy from her bag, unwrapped it, and popped it into her mouth.

“Hello, sir. What would you like today?”

“One box of macarons, to go.”

“Of course, please wait a moment.”

…

That voice…

Ruan Zhizhi doubted her ears and instinctively turned her head. There he was—the slim man in a black coat—standing quietly by the counter, hands in his pockets, tall and upright, exuding effortless ease.

Because it was raining outside, the tips of his hair were damp, and raindrops ran down his forehead. Yet he didn’t look messy at all—still impossibly elegant.

Watching him, Ruan Zhizhi confirmed her suspicion: this man really did have a fondness for the café’s macarons.

Perhaps noticing her gaze, he casually turned his head, meeting her scrutinizing eyes.

When he saw her, his expression softened.

If Ruan Zhizhi could have dismissed it as a trick of her imagination before, the repeated encounters had made it impossible to convince herself otherwise. Every time Shi Yan saw her, his typically cold, dark gaze would inexplicably turn gentle.

She didn’t understand why, but it happened every single time.

Ruan Zhizhi wore the down jacket from the Yunnan bar trip with Shi Yan and Chen Jiayan. As she watched him accept the macarons from the barista, her fingers unconsciously reached into her jacket pocket—and sure enough, touched the paper rose he had given her long ago.

She hadn’t taken special care of it, but hadn’t discarded it either.

What did it mean?

Ruan Zhizhi didn’t dare to think, nor did she have time to, because the strangely charismatic man was walking toward her again.

Almost leaving her nowhere to hide.

“Working?”

Shi Yan held the box of macarons and walked over gracefully, casually greeting her as he sat directly across from her.

He moved with such ease that Ruan Zhizhi didn’t even have the chance to refuse, so she could only respond with a polite greeting: “Yeah. Don’t you have class today?”

“Morning class, just finished.”

As he spoke, his peripheral vision caught sight of the news article lying casually on her desk.

Noticing his gaze, Ruan Zhizhi suddenly had an idea and quickly adopted a more eager tone: “By the way, Shi Yan, I wanted to ask you… in psychology, regarding schizophrenia, is there a more detailed explanation about its symptoms and causes?”

Shi Yan casually took her manuscript, glanced at it, and then concluded, “Indeed, it’s not very professional.”

“…”

Did he have to be so blunt?

“Tomorrow and the day after, at five in the afternoon, my class will cover some symptoms and causes of schizophrenia. If you’re interested, you’re welcome to sit in.”

Sit in?

Ruan Zhizhi immediately began a fierce mental debate. After thinking it through, she decided it was a win-win deal. Her main task recently was revising this very article, so attending a psychology lecture by a top professor at A University could only help, not hurt.

She nodded and agreed happily.

As they talked, the rain outside grew heavier.

Ruan Zhizhi gathered her things and walked out alongside Shi Yan, quickly realizing her awkward situation—she hadn’t brought an umbrella.

Shi Yan glanced at her, and without hesitation, extended his hand with his umbrella.

Ruan Zhizhi froze for a moment, then shook her head, refusing politely: “No need. My home is very close, maybe ten minutes at most. Besides, I can wait until the rain stops.”

Shi Yan remained unmoved, still holding the umbrella out: “The rain is heavy. You’ll catch a cold.”

Ruan Zhizhi hesitated but couldn’t bear the thought of letting him get soaked. Still, she tried to refuse politely: “Really, no need. You should go back to school—you said you have class this afternoon, right?”

Shi Yan was silent. The air grew heavy. Only the sound of raindrops falling filled the street. After a moment, he finally spoke, low and with a subtle, hard-to-describe hint of disappointment: “Ruan Zhizhi, do you really have to refuse me?”

Perhaps it was the rain, or the tone of his voice, but Ruan Zhizhi looked down at his hand holding the umbrella, and somehow, almost instinctively, she took it.

“Thank you.”

Opening the umbrella, she walked a few steps, then turned back, hesitating before tentatively asking, “Shall we walk together?”

She saw Shi Yan smile faintly. The rain had wet his smile, dripping down into his collar, yet it looked stunning—so beautiful it made her heart race. His voice was firm: “No need. I have to get back to school for class. See you next time.”

With that, he gave her no chance to respond, turning and walking alone into the downpour.

Ruan Zhizhi stood there, unconsciously gripping the umbrella handle, guilt filling her chest.

She shouldn’t have accepted the umbrella just to avoid disappointing him.

Walking home from the café took her no more than seven or eight minutes. She entered her apartment, carefully placed the black umbrella into a clean sleeve, leaving it by the door, thinking she would return it to Shi Yan after class tomorrow.

The apartment was quiet as usual, lacking any trace of life.

Her body was chilled from the damp and cold, and she shivered. Rubbing her brow, she went to the living room, made herself a cup of brown sugar ginger tea, and hugged the warm cup, letting the heat seep into her cold body.

After sitting in a daze on the sofa for a while, estimating that Shi Yan had likely returned to school, Ruan Zhizhi took out her phone, opened WeChat, and found his contact. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, hesitating for a long while before finally typing a message:

“Arrived at school? Thanks for the umbrella.”

About five minutes later, Shi Yan replied: “Yes. You’re welcome.”

Ruan Zhizhi exhaled, then typed another message after some thought:

“Drink some Banlangen when you get home. If you catch a cold, I’ll feel terrible.”

This time, his reply was quick: “If I catch a cold, will you take care of me?”

Her fingers froze over the keyboard. She stared at the screen for a while before tentatively replying: “As a friend, if you need me to, of course I will.”

Hmm… that should be safe to say, right?

“That’s good, then.”

His reply was ambiguous, vague, and flirtatiously uncertain.

….

That night, Ruan Zhizhi couldn’t sleep again.

She tossed and turned in bed, trying every method she knew but still couldn’t drift off.

Staring at her phone on the nightstand, she lingered for a long time before finally giving in.

Unlocking the screen, she opened Weibo and navigated to Li Sicheng’s account.

She realized she hadn’t peeked at his Weibo in a long time—long enough to almost think she was becoming a normal person.

Subconsciously, she always told herself she should let go of Li Sicheng. But every time she thought she was close to succeeding, it would all collapse, repeating the same cycle.

Sometimes she would even give up, thinking if she couldn’t forget him, she might as well surrender. Yet, she refused to waste all her precious time for someone who didn’t love her.

Li Sicheng had no new updates—the latest post remained the same as the last time she checked: a city, I’m back.

When she went for a barbecue last time, Gu Nian had also mentioned that Li Sicheng would soon return to the country.

But for two people with no fate, even being in the same city didn’t mean they would meet.

If she never saw him again, it would be the best blessing from heaven. But if they did meet… what would she do?

Truthfully, she worried she might panic, running away without thought. That would be far too embarrassing.

…

Ruan Zhizhi drifted into sleep, floating between her unrealistic worries and imaginations.