Under Ci Ye’s repeated questioning, Song Fu finally explained Cheng An’s identity helplessly, though she deliberately omitted any hints resembling a blind date. “My grandma introduced him. She said he’s a few years older than me and studies medicine, so she told me to call him ‘brother.’ But I didn’t. I only called him that when introducing him to you, since you wouldn’t know the name anyway.”
Ci Ye huffed. He believed that much was true, but it still didn’t fool him easily. “Why would your grandma suddenly introduce you to some brother, and one who studies medicine, no less…” It sounded just like the standards elders used to pick a son-in-law. “What do you think of him?”
Song Fu caught a hint of sourness in the latter half of his sentence. “To be honest, he’s a pretty good guy.”
The other end of the phone bristled immediately, the volume rising. “Good how?”
Song Fu didn’t dare elaborate further. She couldn’t badmouth someone behind their back after just one meeting, right? “I told him I’ve already agreed to date someone else, and he didn’t mind at all. We can just treat each other as friends.”
Ci Ye let out a sullen “oh,” sounding all aggrieved. “What if your grandma gets the idea to arrange an engagement between you two?”
After all, Song Fu had always been the type to go with the flow. She only showed persistence when it came to taking first place and when he brought up calling off the wedding. Even waiting until after high school graduation to date had been his hard-won compromise… If her family arranged another fiancé for her, and that person turned out decent, the odds of her refusing were low.
So Ci Ye’s current question was less about asking Song Fu and more about asking himself.
Ci Ye lightly pursed his thin lips, his handsome face falling.
“I told her I already have someone I’m preparing to date?” Song Fu didn’t think her family would force an engagement on her. Even this time, it was just a casual introduction. She answered offhandedly, plucking a leaf from the vine and studying the patterns on it.
Ci Ye flopped back onto his bed, mumbling. “Mm. You have to make it extra clear. If he says he doesn’t mind you dating someone else and suggests getting engaged first, then tell him the two of us absolutely, definitely won’t break up!”
Song Fu chuckled. “Who wouldn’t mind that?”
Was he trying to have fewer green hats on his head?
…
After wishing Song Fu’s grandma a happy birthday, Song Father and Song Mother had planned to stay longer at the old estate with her, but Song Fu found excuses to refuse. She packed her bags and said, “Huan Huan must miss me.”
Song Mother crossed her arms and huffed twice, seeing right through the younger generation’s little schemes. “Is it Huan Huan who misses you, or that kid Ci Ye?”
“Huan Huan.” Song Fu still wanted to save some face for her future boyfriend.
Their flight was booked for 11:30 a.m., but it wasn’t until 6 p.m. that she finally sat in her own living room and messaged Ci Ye.
: I’m home.
: I brought you a gift. Come get it.
:[Little Cat Charge.jpg]
She had saved this emoji from Ci Ye before—a little cat marching in goosestep. It was cute no matter how you looked at it.
The reply came slowly. Song Fu had already unpacked her suitcase by the time the notification sounded, messages pouring in like beans spilling from a bamboo tube.
Ci Ye: Ahh.
Ci Ye: I was doing practice sheets just now.
Ci Ye: Didn’t check my phone [Little Cat Falls.jpg].
Ci Ye: I can’t go out right now. I’m on the balcony across from your room.
So Song Fu opened the door to her room’s balcony and spotted Ci Ye waving at her from across the way.
She waved back twice as well. “Why can’t you go out again?”
Ci Ye explained that he was following the policy from his third-year junior high days, which he had specifically requested out of worry over his self-control. He couldn’t go out until he finished his fixed tasks completely, but “you can come find me.”
Though they were neighbors and the walk should have taken less than three minutes, Song Fu could count the number of times she’d gone to the Ci house since childhood on one hand. There were many reasons: her role as the story’s female supporting character, and Ci Ye himself seemed reluctant to stay home. For a long time, he would bolt straight to Song Fu’s room the moment he opened his eyes.
The Ci house felt foreign to Song Fu.
It was all black, white, and gray in an ultra-minimalist style, with stark, rigid lines. Even the carpet on the floor was perfectly square. Not a speck of dust anywhere—it was like a model home meant only for display. This lifeless, oppressive dullness was completely dispelled the moment Song Fu entered Ci Ye’s room.
Like two extremes, Ci Ye’s room was filled with large swaths of warm colors, cluttered with all sorts of little knickknacks that looked somewhat familiar to Song Fu. The bedside lamp was the first birthday gift she had ever given him. Shifting her gaze right, there was an entire Photo Wall covered in photos from various times—mostly shots of her and Ci Ye together, plus some solo shots of her that she didn’t even know had been taken… Ci Ye’s own solo photos were few and far between.
Song Fu’s gaze didn’t linger long. She handed over the gifts first. “These are shells I picked up myself—especially pretty ones. This is a photo frame I DIY’d at the shop. And this is a sailboat model; lots of parts on it can be removed.” As she spoke, she plucked off a little figure to show him.
Ci Ye was extremely appreciative, his emotional value maxed out. For every item Song Fu introduced, he let out a “wow” followed by how much he liked it, his dark phoenix eyes shining brightly.
Then he stowed the new gifts in a special display cabinet.
Because the cabinet was by the door, Song Fu hadn’t noticed it right away upon entering. She glanced over and saw it seemed filled with things she had given him—some not expensive at all, even a bit crude, yet displayed just the same. “Is there some rule to how you arrange them?”
Ci Ye pointed to the top row, a satisfied smile in his ink-black phoenix eyes. “Those are birthday gifts from you.” He pointed to the row below. “These are the fragile ones that could break easily, and over there are the disposables.”
Song Fu let out a silent “wow.” “But the disposables I gave you were meant to be used.”
“What if I can’t bear to use them?” Ci Ye pouted.
Song Fu knocked her own head. “Then should I give you two?” No, that wouldn’t help; Ci Ye looked like the type to collect both. “I’ll just avoid giving you disposables from now on.”
[Host, the male lead is kinda creepy.] The System suddenly spoke up. [Like a total stalker?]
‘Really?’ Song Fu didn’t think so. ‘Isn’t he pretty cute?’ That moment earlier reminded her of Huan Huan hiding favorite things under the bed.
System: [……] Cute where?
The Photo Wall? Or the enshrined gifts? The System realized that it wasn’t just the male lead—its host was a bit odd too. At least, the filter she had for him was way too thick.
Song Fu had received plenty of gifts from Ci Ye as well.
More precisely, her habit of preparing gifts came from him.
Whenever they went a while without seeing each other, Ci Ye would return with a pile of stuff and drag Song Fu along to recount everything that happened while they were apart.
But Song Fu had no intention of collecting gifts. Aside from decorative items that got stored away, she used everything practical right away—like the thermos cup or scarf. She reflected, “Should I get a big display cabinet like yours?”
Ci Ye read between the lines and shook his head without thinking. “I like it when you use them.”
After summer break, the class pace tightened up that semester.
Old Ban’s hair on top looked like trees thinned by dropping temperatures, dwindling day by day. In contrast, the homeroom teacher’s temper grew bigger.
Ci Ye improved a bit with every exam, long since escaped the bottom ranks, which created a new last-place student. Unlike before when no one cared about Ci Ye being dead last, the new bottom feeder inevitably endured a baptism of spittle. And with Ci Ye’s progress as contrast, the homeroom teacher firmly believed there were no dumb students, only lazy ones. He pushed the kid relentlessly, making life miserable for everyone.
Song Fu and Zhu Chenxi became friends who met at the library on weekends.
The one with the biggest grudge about it was Ci Ye.
He had just finished a set of practice sheets and, during his break after checking answers, stared at Song Fu’s delicate profile, unable to get enough. Mm, the hair clip was one he’d given her just days ago—really suited her. He had wanted to sit right across from her, so he could look up and see her focused little face, but alas…
Only he and Song Fu should have come to the library, yet there was now a glaring third wheel.
Good thing they wouldn’t need to go out during winter break—they could study in the home study—
“Winter break’s almost here, Fu Fu. Can I come play with you then?” Zhu Chenxi’s eyes sparkled as she offered two options. “Or you could come to my place.”
Ci Ye tsked lightly.
Zhu Chenxi: “……” Whatever, she’d pretend not to hear.
Little couples couldn’t stay cooped up together forever, right?
Song Fu paused her pen. “I’m going back to my hometown for winter break.” She picked up her phone nearby to check the latest message and explained, “Grandma hasn’t been feeling well lately. She really wants someone with her.”
“Oh.” Zhu Chenxi looked worried, treading carefully. “I hope your grandma recovers soon.”
“She will.” Song Fu smiled. “It’s not too serious.”
Cheng An’s father was still handling her grandma’s health regimen this time. Cheng An had gotten her contact through her grandma before and would update her now and then on her grandma’s condition.
Ci Ye’s face fell too upon hearing this. He had a full schedule of tutoring over winter break again, so he still couldn’t go with her directly. He settled for second best. “I’ll come find you then.” He could squeeze out a few days.
“We’ll see then.”
Song Fu said optimistically, “Maybe Grandma will get better soon, and I won’t stay long.”
A week later when winter break arrived, only half of that came true. Her grandma did recover quickly, but she wouldn’t let her go. The moment Song Fu mentioned leaving, Grandma clutched her chest and said it felt stuffy and uncomfortable, her head dizzy too.