Stepping out of the police station, the air carried a slight chill.
Ye Shuang passed through the gate, lost in thought about how to get home, when he noticed a car with its lights on parked not far away, a slightly chubby figure leaning against it.
"You're here?" Ye Shuang was momentarily taken aback upon seeing Chen Hai.
"Things blew up pretty big—I happened to catch wind of it," Chen Hai said, tossing him a can. Catching it, Ye Shuang realized it was a Tsingtao beer. He popped it open and took a sip.
"Pretty cold."
"Of course. Got a fridge in the car," Chen Hai replied, cracking open his own can.
"Drinking and driving right outside the police station? Got some nerve, huh?"
"It’s guava juice," Chen Hai said, shaking the green can in his hand. The printed label, previously obscured by his grip, confirmed it wasn’t beer.
Seeing Ye Shuang chuckle and drop the subject, Chen Hai turned to him. "Heard you threw hands too?"
"What’s so strange about that?"
"Haven’t seen you throw a punch in years."
"Ever seen a boss throw hands?"
"Ha, fair point… Thought you’d get locked up for sure."
"Just a minor scuffle. Worst case, a fine and a lecture. As for that guy? He’s looking at three years, easy," Ye Shuang said with a faint smile.
"Speak human to humans, speak devil to devils. Sometimes you gotta hit hard, or people’ll think you’re soft."
"With folks who throw tantrums, fists work best."
Chen Hai didn’t disagree. Watching Ye Shuang’s distant gaze, he suddenly asked, "Still thinking about her?"
Ye Shuang lit a cigarette and deflected, "Why do you ask?"
"Just… feels like you wouldn’t move on so easily. You know I get you, man."
Ye Shuang stayed silent for a while before exhaling smoke slowly. "She was never my moon—just moonlight that happened to fall on me for a moment."
"You’re okay with that?"
"It is what it is. Nothing’s perfect in this world," Ye Shuang said, though his mind inexplicably drifted to Bai Yuyou. He shook his head with a wry smile.
"I’m over it."
"Hey, why not just go for Chen Qin? She’s a total catch—rich, beautiful. Keep it in the family," Chen Hai teased, nudging closer.
"She’s like a sister to me. You know that," Ye Shuang retorted, shoving him away with an elbow.
"She doesn’t see you as a brother. More like future husband material. And she’s gorgeous, sweet—"
"Enough. I’m heading back."
"So early? Come on, let’s hit a foot spa."
"With your wife?"
"…Never mind. She’d skin me alive."
The drive back to the neighborhood was quick. After exchanging goodbyes with Chen Hai, Ye Shuang reached his apartment building.
Glancing up, he noticed a single balcony still lit.
At three or four in the morning, even the city’s brightest neon lights had dimmed, but that warm glow felt like an anchor for his weary heart.
"Maybe this kind of life isn’t so bad," Ye Shuang mused before stepping inside.
Unlocking the door, he was met with a pair of eyes the moment he entered the brightly lit apartment.
Seated on a chair facing the entrance was a girl, her cheek resting against the backrest, exhaustion plain in her eyes—until she saw Ye Shuang. Her gaze brightened as she stood.
"You… you’re back?"
"Why aren’t you asleep?" Ye Shuang hadn’t expected Bai Yuyou to still be awake. He’d assumed she’d left the lights on while sleeping.
Bai Yuyou stepped closer, tilting her head up. "You told me to wait for you."
She hesitated. "Did I… do wrong?"
"No, you didn’t. Stop thinking you’re always in the wrong," Ye Shuang said, ruffling her hair.
"Go to sleep now."
"Okay."
Bai Yuyou was out the moment her head hit the pillow, though her fingers still clung to the hem of Ye Shuang’s shirt, as if that small grip was her only tether to safety.
Tucking her in, Ye Shuang watched the faint pink flush on her pale cheeks and smiled silently.
Good night.
Early the next morning, Bai Yuyou was already up.
She rubbed her stomach, still groggy.
Hungry.
Heading to the kitchen, she instinctively reached for instant noodles, only to find someone already there—a figure bathed in sunlight, working a sizzling frying pan.
The rich aroma of cooking oil snapped her awake. The scene felt so surreal she couldn’t resist reaching out—
"Hm? You’re up?" Feeling the tug on his clothes, Ye Shuang glanced back. "Hold on, let me flip this egg."
With practiced ease, he flicked the egg over, the sound of crisp edges filling the air.
"Cool, right?"
"Mm." But Bai Yuyou’s eyes never left him. She pressed closer, burying her face against his chest.
"I’m covered in grease. Go wash up," Ye Shuang said, steering her toward the bathroom.
By the time she returned, breakfast was ready.
Simple fare—fried egg and bacon sandwiches, about seven or eight of them. The bread, toasted in butter, smelled perfect.
As for why he’d made so many—
Bai Yuyou, cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk, had already polished off six in ten minutes.
A bottomless pit, truly.
"What about lunch? Do you eat at school? They have a cafeteria, right?" Ye Shuang asked.
Bai Yuyou shook her head. "No lunch…"
"Why not?"
She looked down. "The cafeteria… doesn’t take cash. So my stomach… hurts… at noon."
"No cash?" Ye Shuang frowned, then remembered his own school days—meal cards were the norm.
Had Bai Yuyou been turned away for trying to pay with cash because she didn’t know how to use a card?
"Did you not load your meal card?"
"Mm." She nodded. She’d never figured out where those cards came from. Everyone else had one, but no one told her.
Eventually, she’d stopped going altogether—sparing lunchtimes with nothing but water to dull the hunger.
"No wonder you eat like this. Starving all day, then binging on instant noodles at night—you’ll ruin your stomach," Ye Shuang sighed, eyeing her pale, almost sickly complexion.
With a smile, he added,
"Tell you what. I’ll go to school with you today."
Bai Yuyou blinked, tilting her head.
"Eh?"