Fall - Chapter 21

Yue Can rarely felt embarrassed, but this time she was mortified. She recalled how she had been deliberately contacting Bo Wanzhao, but she stubbornly played dumb: Really?

 

Bo Wanzhao replied: Really?

 

A soul’s counter-question. Fine, fine, fine, Yue Can gave up resisting and sent a messy, head-scratching emoj.

 

Yue Can: Do you have to call me out like that?

 

Bo Wanzhao’s lips curled into a smile. Yue Can was like a paper tiger—easily exposed with a little teasing. She admitted to herself that she sometimes enjoyed teasing Yue Can.

 

Yue Can had plenty of friends to share her daily life with, yet she couldn’t understand why she kept seeking out the aloof Bo Wanzhao. Perhaps their close proximity during tutoring had genuinely fostered some affection; she missed those days.

 

Since the cat was out of the bag, Yue Can cut to the chase: Want to watch a college girl play tennis?

 

Bo Wanzhao’s attention gradually shifted to their casual chat. The rain no longer seemed so noisy. She didn’t understand Yue Can’s sudden, nonsensical question.

 

bwz: What?

 

Yue Can received another prompt reply. It seemed Bo Wanzhao was quite free tonight, as if waiting specifically to chat with her. She sent Bo Wanzhao a video of her afternoon competition.

 

Bo Wanzhao clicked to open it—a one-minute sports clip. The figure on screen was Yue Can herself, her spirited and vibrant presence dominating the scene amidst roaring cheers. The video radiated youthful energy.

 

She stared at the screen, watching every second from beginning to end.

 

Yue Can: The club held a friendly competition this afternoon. I accidentally made it to the finals and won the championship.

 

Bo Wanzhao could practically feel Yue Can’s smugness through the text. Yue Can couldn’t hide her emotions; whenever she was happy, it showed completely.

 

bwz: Impressive.

 

Not satisfied with just praise, Yue Can shamelessly pressed further: Are the female college students pretty?

 

After a few seconds of waiting, Bo Wanzhao replied: Shameless and still number one.

 

Yue Can lay on her bed, laughing so hard she wasn’t sleepy anymore. Teasing Bo Wanzhao always made her happy—a new source of amusement.

 

It was afternoon, just over ten minutes before class.

 

“Can Can, we’re heading to class now. You rest in the dorm.”

 

During the transition from autumn to winter, West City experienced significant temperature fluctuations between day and night. Yue Can caught a cold during yesterday’s physical education class and fell ill today. She attended half a day of classes in the morning, but her fever worsened in the afternoon, so she took a sick leave.

 

She rarely got sick, but when she did, it was always severe.

 

After the others left, the dorm grew quiet and cold. Yue Can huddled under the covers, her body burning hot, drowsy, and feeling utterly miserable.

 

She had considered telling Tan Ming she wasn’t feeling well, but realized Tan Ming was too busy to care for her. She sent a message to Zhong Ran, who offered a few comforting words but couldn’t do much else, since they weren’t together.

 

Although she had boarded at high school, her home was nearby, so she could always return if she felt unwell. Being sick and alone was truly miserable. After living in West City for so long, this was the first time she experienced such profound loneliness and self-pity.

 

Yue Can stared at her WeChat contact list, her head swimming. She couldn’t resist sending a message to Bo Wanzhao: High fever, about to pass out. So miserable.

 

She drifted off to sleep immediately after sending it. She didn’t know how long she slept until the ringtone of a voice call woke her. Glancing at the screen, she saw it was Bo Wanzhao calling.

 

Yue Can opened her eyes in disbelief and immediately answered the call. “Why are you calling me?”

 

Bo Wanzhao replied, “You haven’t replied to my messages.”

 

Still groggy from sleep, Yue Can remembered sending a message to Bo Wanzhao earlier. “I fell asleep.”

 

Bo Wanzhao asked, “Are you feeling okay?”

 

Yue Can, never one to feign strength, admitted, “Not really.”

 

“Did you take fever medicine? Has your fever gone down?”

 

Hearing the familiar gentle concern in Bo Wanzhao’s voice, Yue Can felt even more vulnerable. She croaked, “I just took some. I still feel a bit hot.”

 

“Check your temperature again in half an hour. If it doesn’t go down, go to the school clinic. Don’t delay,” Bo Wanzhao said softly.

 

Her calm, methodical manner always brought a sense of security. Yue Can murmured an “Mm-hmm” in a listless voice.

 

“Is someone with you?” Bo Wanzhao asked.

 

“No, I’m alone in the dorm,” Yue Can replied, her voice tinged with self-pity. Having been pampered since childhood, she had never learned to endure even the slightest hardship.

 

Bo Wanzhao could hear the dejection in Yue Can’s voice, the complete absence of her usual vitality. She knew all too well that Yue Can couldn’t handle being wronged.

 

Yue Can expected Bo Wanzhao to offer a perfunctory “Get some rest” and end the call…

 

“I won’t hang up. Tell me what’s on your mind,” Bo Wanzhao said.

 

Yue Can’s heart instantly warmed, and for a long moment, she couldn’t find the words to speak.

 

Hearing no response, Bo Wanzhao asked, “Feeling unwell?”

 

Yue Can murmured, “Aren’t you busy today?”

 

“Not too bad. I’m working from home today.” Bo Wanzhao had taken on an additional translation project.

 

Yue Can called out, “Bo Wanzhao…”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“You’re the best,” Yue Can blurted out softly, unable to help herself.

 

After those words hung in the air, both women fell silent for a moment.

 

“Get some rest,” Bo Wanzhao said. “I’ll wake you later to take your temperature.”

 

“Okay.” Yue Can lay down, her mind racing. If only Bo Wanzhao were here right now… Even if I asked her to hold me, she probably wouldn’t refuse. After all, she’s always been soft on me.

 

I’m really pushing my luck, aren’t I? With Bo Wanzhao acting like this, I’m going to become even more dependent on her.

 

Bo Wanzhao returned to her work.

 

Yue Can drifted in and out of sleep, still able to hear the sounds of Bo Wanzhao working. Occasionally, Bo Wanzhao would hear Yue Can shift in bed.

 

The call remained connected, the sounds from their separate spaces intertwining, banishing their loneliness as if they were truly together.

 

Noticing the time, Bo Wanzhao gently reminded her, “Yue Can.”

 

Yue Can hummed in response.

 

Bo Wanzhao: “It’s time to take your temperature.”

 

“Okay,” Yue Can obediently rolled over, picked up the thermometer, and tucked it under her arm.

 

Feeling much better now, Yue Can checked the thermometer after a few minutes. The fever reducer had worked; her high fever had subsided.

 

Bo Wanzhao’s voice came through the phone beside her pillow: “Is the fever gone?”

 

“Yes, it’s gone,” Yue Can replied, “but I still feel a bit unwell.”

 

Bo Wanzhao: “Get some rest.”

 

Thinking she was about to hang up, Yue Can instinctively blurted out, “Don’t hang up yet, okay?”

 

Bo Wanzhao: “I haven’t hung up.”

 

Despite her outwardly aloof demeanor, Yue Can actually craved companionship, especially when she was feeling down. Knowing Bo Wanzhao was working, she tried to stay quiet and avoid making any noise.

 

Before she knew it, over an hour had passed.

 

Instead of sleeping, Yue Can had been lost in thought. She rolled over and called out, “Bo Wanzhao?”

 

Bo Wanzhao replied immediately, “I’m here.”

 

Yue Can felt reassured by her response. “Can I talk to you about something?”

 

“Go ahead.”

 

“If you’re ever feeling down or just want someone to keep you company, you can always reach out to me. I’m good at cheering people up,” Yue Can said, lying on her bed. “I’m pretty good at making people happy.”

 

Bo Wanzhao paused her work, glanced at her phone, and muttered, “Still restless even when you’re sick.”

 

Yue Can knew this meant Bo Wanzhao thought she was talking nonsense. “They all say I’m beautiful and sweet-talking. If you don’t believe them, I’ll let you experience it for yourself next time.”

 

What is she even saying? Bo Wanzhao chuckled softly. She didn’t doubt Yue Can’s words. The day Yue Can had dragged her to the movies and the ice rink remained one of her few genuinely carefree and happy memories.

 

Yue Can’s sharp ears caught the faint laughter, and she smiled to herself. She knew Bo Wanzhao carried a lot of unhappiness, and if Bo Wanzhao ever needed her, she would indulge her without hesitation.

 

“I’m serious,” Yue Can said, unusually earnest. Borrowing Bo Wanzhao’s own words to her, she added, “You can take advantage of me too.”

 

The sincerity in her voice struck Bo Wanzhao as strange. She had never imagined anyone would encourage her to take advantage.

 

Having said everything she wanted to say, Yue Can fell silent again.

 

Yue Can vividly remembered Bo Wanzhao’s clear rejection of someone’s confession that day, stating she didn’t need anyone to warm her heart. Yet she had still said those words to Bo Wanzhao. What if, just in case, there might be a moment when Bo Wanzhao needed her, even just a little?

 

They finally ended the call when classmates began returning to the dormitory after class.

 

The dorm leader rushed in, asking with concern, “Can Can, are you feeling better?”

 

“Much better now,” Yue Can replied with a smile. She truly felt much better, both physically and emotionally.

 

What you think about during the day, you dream about at night. That night, Yue Can dreamed of Bo Wanzhao.

 

She dreamed of Bo Wanzhao calling her to say, “I miss you”; of Bo Wanzhao feeling down and wanting her company; and of Bo Wanzhao, just like that day, holding her tightly in bed, refusing to let go, and whispering, “Don’t move… I want to hold you a little longer.”

 

When Yue Can woke up, dawn had already broken. She slowly emerged from her dream.

 

After their earnest conversation that day, Yue Can’s “chat and play companion” service didn’t gain any traction. Bo Wanzhao would still chat with her, but she never mentioned her own affairs, let alone whether she was in good spirits.

 

Yue Can felt like something was wrong with her. Why did she keep expecting Bo Wanzhao to let her comfort her? Bo Wanzhao was clearly not the type to seek such comfort.

 

Life continued at its usual pace. In the blink of an eye, it was late December, with Christmas and New Year’s Eve approaching. Everyone was buzzing with excitement and holiday plans.

 

Shopping apps began recommending various gifts on their homepages. Yue Can scrolled through and spotted a soft, moon-shaped pillow advertised as a “sweet dreams pillow.” She clicked on it and placed an order.

 

On Christmas Day, it was raining again in Naxia. The winter rain grew colder with each passing storm.

 

After a busy day, Bo Wanzhao walked home under her umbrella. The damp, biting wind made her cough twice. Her health wasn’t great, especially in winter.

 

On her way home, she picked up a package—an unfamiliar one. The box was large but light. She glanced at the shipping label: Sender: Wishing You Sweet Dreams.

 

Back home, Bo Wanzhao immediately texted Yue Can: Received it.

 

Yue Can was still in class but sneaking glances at her phone. Surprised, she replied: How did you know it was from me?

 

Bo Wanzhao replied: There’s no one else.

 

Only Yue Can would come up with such a thoughtful little surprise. It was too predictable.

 

Yue Can was speechless. Afraid that Bo Wanzhao might reject the gesture again, she proactively asked, “Can I use this reservation to treat you to a meal?”

 

bwz: Yes.

 

Yue Can grinned in class.

 

The teacher suddenly called on her. “Yue Can, your name truly reflects your radiant smile! Do you have the answer? Please share it with us.”

 

Yue Can looked up, her smile vanishing abruptly. “……”

 

After class, Yue Can and Ba Hua walked back to the dormitory together. Their rhythms aligned perfectly, so they often hung out together.

 

Ba Hua was a West City native, a sweet-looking girl with a cheerful and easygoing personality.

 

“It’s going to snow in a few days,” Ba Hua said.

 

“Really?” Yue Can’s eyes lit up with excitement.

 

“Yeah, it usually snows around New Year’s Eve,” Ba Hua replied, drawing on her local knowledge. She glanced at Yue Can. “By the way, do you have any plans for New Year’s Eve?”

 

“I’m meeting up with friends. They’re coming to West City for New Year’s Day,” Yue Can replied as they walked.

 

Zhong Ran had been planning this for over a month, saying she wanted to come to West City with Luo Yang to celebrate New Year’s with Yue Can.

 

Bo Wanzhao emerged from her shower to find the rain still falling. Wide awake and knowing she was likely to suffer from insomnia, she decided to lean against the bed and read to pass the time.

 

Past midnight, the rain continued to fall.

 

As she turned the pages, the sound of the rain tugged at her thoughts. Since childhood, she had loathed rainy days—or rather, feared them.

 

Back then, she lived in a small county town south of Naxia, a place even more humid and rainy than Naxia itself.

 

Her memories of rainy days were filled with the man’s crazed roars, violent beatings, and her mother Bo Qin’s trembling sobs as she begged for mercy, all accompanied by the suffocating, pungent smell of mothballs in the dark, cramped closet where she hid.

 

Both her former “home” and rainy days had always filled her with dread.

 

Bo Qin had once married a man named Feng Chunsheng. Born into a poor rural family, Bo Qin had always dreamed of marrying a city dweller to escape her fate. At nineteen, she met Feng Chunsheng. Through a combination of lies and coaxing, he persuaded her to elope with him. This was considered deeply shameful in their village at the time, and Bo Qin severed all ties with the Bo Family as a result.

 

Feng Chunsheng was a small-time boss at the time, and his prospects seemed promising. Bo Qin believed she had chosen the right man and gave birth to a daughter the following year. Feng Chunsheng had always had a volatile temper, but Bo Qin figured she could endure it. After all, every marriage has its rough patches. For two or three relatively peaceful years, things seemed to settle down… until Feng Chunsheng went bankrupt and became addicted to gambling. His temper grew even more vicious, and whenever he was in a bad mood, he would grab Bo Qin and beat her to vent his anger, sometimes even hitting their daughter.

 

After the beatings, he would try to coax them, only to beat them again later—a never-ending nightmare they couldn’t escape.

 

Rainy days always put Feng Chunsheng in a foul mood.

 

Desperate to protect her daughter from the beatings, Bo Qin would preemptively knock on the neighbors’ doors, humbly begging them to take her daughter in. But Feng Chunsheng soon discovered this. The neighbors, wary of his violent temper, stopped helping, even those who had been kind before. Left with no other option, Bo Qin would hide her daughter in the wardrobe, instructing her to stay quiet.

 

Hiding in the closet, Bo Wanzhao trembled violently. In the darkness, the wails she heard seemed even more piercing. She was still in elementary school then. Once, she mustered the courage to grab a stick and run outside, glaring furiously at the rabid dog. But the dog lashed out with a slap, sending her sprawling to the ground, stars exploding in her vision as the stick rained down on her back…

 

Later, Feng Chunsheng died a gruesome death—a drunk driving accident. He ran a red light and was hit by a car, his body torn to pieces, his head crushed under the wheels.

 

When Bo Wanzhao, by then in middle school, heard the news of Feng Chunsheng’s death, her face remained expressionless, but she secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Bo Qin, on the other hand, wept hysterically. Bo Wanzhao saw through her tears, knowing better than anyone that beneath her mother’s wailing lay a secret, triumphant laughter.

 

The past was gone, but its scars remained etched in her bones. On rainy days, Bo Wanzhao still felt her heart race, her anxiety and depression intensifying.

 

She calculated the days and realized it had been too long since her last visit to Bo Qin at the nursing home.

 

It was late. She put down her book and prepared for bed, noticing the plush pillow Yue Can had given her. She pulled it close, hugging it tightly. It offered a small measure of comfort, but it couldn’t replace the real touch she craved—like Yue Can’s embrace that day.

 

New Year’s Day fell on a weekend, giving them a three-day holiday after the compensatory days off. Eager to celebrate New Year’s Eve together, Zhong Ran dragged Luo Yang to West City on the first flight out.

 

Yue Can arrived at the airport early to pick them up.

 

The airport was crowded, and it took a while for the trio to finally meet.

 

“Can Can!” Zhong Ran bounced with excitement upon seeing Yue Can, her eyes immediately drawn to the bouquet in her arms. “Just one bouquet for both of us? How are we supposed to share?”

 

“You two are practically Siamese twins anyway,” Yue Can teased, her own mood lifting at seeing her dear friends. “One bouquet is enough.”

 

“You’re just being stingy,” Zhong Ran retorted playfully.

 

Luo Yang chuckled helplessly beside them.

 

“Not stingy at all! I’m treating you both to a feast tonight—order whatever you want!” Yue Can insisted. Since Zhong Ran and Luo Yang were visiting, she was definitely paying for dinner.

 

“Don’t cry if we eat half your monthly allowance,” Zhong Ran joked.

 

“I’m a little rich girl, remember? Money’s no object.” Yue Can helped with their luggage. “Let’s head to the hotel first.”

 

They had booked a triple room at a hotel in the city center, where Yue Can would also stay for the night. After New Year’s Eve, Zhong Ran and Luo Yang would remain in West City for two more days, giving Yue Can the perfect opportunity to show them around.

 

Though Yue Can had only been studying in West City for less than half a year, she already knew all the best spots for fun and shopping.

 

After settling into their hotel room and resting briefly, Yue Can took them to dinner at a restaurant near the hotel—one of the few decent places in West City’s culinary wasteland.

 

Once the dishes arrived, Zhong Ran snapped a flurry of photos before digging in.

 

As she ate the sweet and sour pork ribs, Yue Can drifted into thought, wondering if Bo Wanzhao was spending another New Year’s Eve alone.

 

Bo Wanzhao visited Bo Qin at the sanatorium.

 

The sanatorium on the west side of the city housed patients with varying degrees of mental illness. Bo Qin’s condition was considered severe, requiring forced injections of sedatives during psychotic episodes.

 

After Feng Chunsheng’s death, Bo Wanzhao had initially believed life would finally improve. But the brief respite was shattered when Bo Qin suffered a mental breakdown and was later diagnosed with severe schizophrenia, a consequence of years of domestic abuse.

 

Unable to live independently, Bo Qin had only considered universities in Naxia for her undergraduate studies and remained at the same institution for her graduate studies.

 

She had managed to cope by gritting her teeth, but over the past year, Bo Qin’s symptoms had worsened, forcing Bo Wanzhao to admit her to the sanatorium.

 

As Bo Wanzhao walked through the sanatorium, she encountered a diverse group of patients: some with vacant stares, others in manic states, and adults behaving like children.

 

It was New Year’s Eve, and the sanatorium had organized special activities, meticulously decorated for the occasion.

 

Amid the crowd, Bo Wanzhao spotted a familiar figure. Bo Qin had cut her hair into a neat, ear-length bob and was helping set up the event space, chatting and laughing with others—looking completely normal. In Bo Wanzhao’s memory, it had been a long time since she had seen Bo Qin smile like that.

 

“Bo Qin, your daughter is here to see you,” a staff member announced.

 

Bo Wanzhao approached. “Mom,” she said.

 

Bo Qin stared at the person before her, whose features mirrored her own. Her smile vanished instantly, replaced by a blank, almost panicked expression. Her eyes and body language conveyed a desperate desire to avoid contact.

 

“I’ve found a job,” Bo Wanzhao said. “The pay is good.”

 

Bo Qin ignored her, shaking her head repeatedly. The small colorful ball in her hand fell to the ground.

 

Bo Wanzhao bent down to pick it up and handed it back to her. “Are you doing okay here?”

 

Bo Qin slapped her hand away forcefully, turned her back, and walked away coldly, refusing to speak a word.

 

Left standing alone, Bo Wanzhao realized Bo Qin still refused to acknowledge her. Yet, compared to her previous hysterical outbursts, this time she seemed more stable.

 

Bo Qin had always been meek and gentle, diligent and hardworking. It was only after her mental breakdown that her volatile, irritable side emerged. Dr. Xu explained that this was the result of long-suppressed emotions finally erupting.

 

Bo Wanzhao simply handed the staff the items she had brought—some daily necessities and fruit—and left alone.

 

“Wanzhao?”

 

As she stepped out of the room, Bo Wanzhao heard someone call her name. She turned to see a middle-aged woman with short, neat hair, wearing a white coat. She smiled and greeted her, “Aunt Xu.”

 

“I thought it looked like you,” Xu Yuwen said with a smile. “Visiting your mother?”

 

“Mm, it’s been a while since I’ve been here,” Bo Wanzhao said.

 

“We just saw each other,” Xu Yuwen replied. “There’s a New Year’s Eve celebration at the sanatorium today. Your mother’s having a great time.”

 

Bo Wanzhao nodded. The atmosphere at the sanatorium was much better than she had imagined. After seeing Bo Qin’s condition stabilize, she had tried to bring her home, but Bo Qin refused to leave and they ended up arguing. Eventually, Bo Qin stopped speaking to her altogether.

 

“Has she been doing better lately?” Bo Wanzhao asked, eager to get Dr. Xu’s assessment.

 

“Let’s talk in my office,” Xu Yuwen said, leading the way.

 

For years, Xu Yuwen had been overseeing Bo Qin’s treatment. The kindhearted doctor had provided invaluable support to the mother and daughter. It was Dr. Xu who had initially connected them with Tan Ming. Later, Dr. Xu transferred to work at the sanatorium.

 

Once they were in the office, Xu Yuwen said, “Her condition is quite stable now. You don’t need to worry too much. She gets along well with the other patients here, has made many friends, and her mood has improved significantly. This has been very beneficial for her treatment.”

 

“Every time I see her, she’s in a terrible mood,” Bo Wanzhao said skeptically, suspecting Dr. Xu was trying to reassure her. After all, every time she visited, Bo Qin’s emotions would spiral out of control, sometimes even descending into manic episodes.

 

“I’m not just trying to comfort you,” Xu Yuwen explained. “She’s actually recovering quite well. Perhaps she’s grown accustomed to life here and doesn’t want to leave.” Many patients develop this mindset, finding the sanatorium more comfortable than the outside world. Some even return after trying to reintegrate.

 

Bo Wanzhao remained silent. The videos sent by the sanatorium showed Bo Qin’s condition was stable, but whenever they met in person… After a moment’s thought, she asked Xu Yuwen, “So she simply doesn’t want to see me? Meeting me would worsen her condition?”

 

Xu Yuwen paused. She knew Bo Qin was Bo Wanzhao’s only family, and both mother and daughter had endured hardship, relying on each other for survival. Directly saying “yes” would be too cruel.

 

“Perhaps seeing you stirs up painful memories,” Xu Yuwen replied tactfully. “She subconsciously resists, and her emotions become unstable whenever you meet, making her prone to losing control.”

 

Bo Wanzhao remained composed. “I understand.”

 

Xu Yuwen: “Would you still like to talk to her? I can accompany you.”

 

“Let’s wait until she’s feeling better,” Bo Wanzhao said with a faint smile. If meeting would only make things worse, there’s no point. “Thank you for your continued care.”

 

Xu Yuwen sighed inwardly. In her decades of working in this field, she had seen all kinds of patients, yet this young woman’s stoic resilience still tugged at her heartstrings.

 

Bo Wanzhao stood up and said, “Goodbye,” preparing to leave.

 

“Wanzhao,” Xu Yuwen said, watching her go. She remembered when they first met, the young girl had been as thin as a stick, a testament to the hardships she had endured. With a warm smile, she said, “Don’t dwell on the past. Things will get better.”

 

Bo Wanzhao accepted the kindness, smiling back. “Thank you.”

 

Things will get better. Bo Wanzhao never used this phrase to comfort herself. Whether things improved or not, she had to face reality as it was.

 

After visiting the sanatorium, Bo Wanzhao realized it was New Year’s Eve. The streets were teeming with crowds, the festive atmosphere palpable, far more lively than usual. Most people were in groups or couples.

 

Bo Wanzhao stood out as an exception, utterly alone. But she had never feared solitude; it was the emotion she had processed most thoroughly over the years. Tonight, she had no special plans. Like any other day, she finished work and squeezed onto the subway home.

 

The Line 11 subway was always packed. By the time she got back, it was dark, and she was numb with exhaustion.

 

Bo Wanzhao walked down a narrow alley.

 

“Meow—”

 

She looked up at the sound and saw a small cat standing directly in front of her. As Yue Can would say, she was being mugged.

 

Over time, Dirty Bun had grown familiar with Bo Wanzhao. Whenever they met in the alley, the cat would come over to greet her, rubbing against her legs.

 

Bo Wanzhao pulled out a bag of treats from her bag and fed them to the cat, acting as someone’s proxy feeder.

 

Dirty Bun happily devoured the treats, its head bowed low.

 

Bo Wanzhao casually took out her phone and recorded a short video.

 

After finishing its meal, Dirty Bun showed no intention of leaving, lingering near Bo Wanzhao. Bo Wanzhao bent down and gently stroked the kitten’s head.

 

The kitten began to nuzzle her hand affectionately, rubbing its head against her palm.

 

Remembering the name Yue Can had given it, Bo Wanzhao suddenly called out on a whim, “Dirty Bun.”

 

The kitten responded obediently, as if on cue, “Meow!”

 

Bo Wanzhao smiled. It’s actually quite cute.

 

Back home, Bo Wanzhao drank a cup of hot water to warm up. Sitting at her desk, she opened her laptop and found a steady stream of job offers arriving in her inbox. Nearly every company she had interviewed with last autumn had extended an olive branch.

 

After years of hard work, she finally had the freedom to choose. Her childhood dream had, in a way, come true.

 

The compensation packages were all attractive, with options in Naxia and other cities. If possible, she would naturally prefer to leave Naxia and start anew elsewhere. But Bo Qin’s current condition…

 

Lost in thought, Bo Wanzhao sent the video she had taken in the alley to Yue Can.

 

Yue Can was still eating when she received the message. She hadn’t expected Bo Wanzhao to reach out unprompted. Though she hadn’t asked for videos of Dirty Bun, she unexpectedly received two clips.

 

She’s actually reaching out to me? Does she want to chat? Yue Can speculated, her mind racing. Then she dismissed the thought, figuring Bo Wanzhao had probably just sent the videos out of habit.

 

Yue Can tapped to open the videos. The first showed Dirty Bun eating, and the second featured someone petting a cat. She immediately recognized Bo Wanzhao’s hand—slender, fair-skinned, with a mole near her wrist.

 

Yue Can watched the second video several times, laughing at its cuteness and saving it to her album.

 

Yue Can: Are you trying to seduce me?

 

Seduce? Bo Wanzhao was always left speechless and amused by Yue Can’s peculiar phrasing.

 

“What’s so funny?” Zhong Ran asked, craning her neck to see Yue Can’s phone.

 

Yue Can generously shared, handing her phone to Zhong Ran. “Isn’t it adorable?”

 

“So cute!” Zhong Ran, a fellow cat lover, watched the video twice. On the second viewing, her attention shifted to the hand petting the cat. “Whose hand is this? Finger fetish material! The fingers are so long…”

 

“What are you thinking?” Yue Can glanced at Zhong Ran, her mind already drifting into inappropriate territory thanks to Zhong Ran’s long-term influence.

 

Luo Yang was still nearby, so Zhong Ran feigned innocence. “What did I say?”

 

“You said her fingers were very long,” Luo Yang interjected earnestly.

 

Zhong Ran nearly choked on her water. Can’t we have a normal conversation?

 

Yue Can, head bowed, sent Bo Wanzhao a photo of sweet and sour pork ribs.

 

Yue Can: Not as good as yours.

 

Bo Wanzhao read the message, thought for a moment, and replied: I’ll make it for you again next time.

 

Yue Can’s mood instantly brightened. She immediately replied: You’re flirting with me again! Wait till I get back!

 

Bo Wanzhao’s lashes lowered, amused. No matter what I say, it always sounds suggestive.

 

Yue Can glanced at the chat log and also felt something was off.

 

“Can Can, are you dating anyone?” Zhong Ran couldn’t resist asking the moment they met, lest she betray her title as the “Love-Brain Master.”

 

Yue Can snapped out of her daze. “No.”

 

Zhong Ran: “But you must have plenty of admirers, right?”

 

“Not really,” Yue Can replied, turning the gossip back on her. “What about you? Any developments?”

 

Zhong Ran sighed. “What developments could there be? Same old story…”

 

Luo Yang raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t that senior sister have a crush on you?”

 

“I…” Zhong Ran stammered, feeling guilty for how close she’d come to revealing her secret. “I don’t like her.”

 

Luo Yang pressed further, “Then what kind of girl do you like?”

 

“I like gentle…” Zhong Ran blurted out, realizing her mistake only after the words had escaped her lips. She quickly slammed the precariously balanced cabinet door shut and glared at Luo Yang. “You tricked me!”

 

Luo Yang laughed for a long time. “Serves you right for being so naive.”

 

Zhong Ran’s face flushed crimson.

 

Yue Can glanced between Zhong Ran and Luo Yang—one a clueless sweetheart, the other a cunning schemer. She really wanted to ask Zhong Ran if she was sure the cabinet door was still closed in Luo Yang’s presence. Yue Can felt like Luo Yang could see right through Zhong Ran with a single glance.

 

After dinner, Yue Can took them for a stroll down the pedestrian street to digest their meal.

 

They discovered it was snowing outside. The white flakes danced romantically in the night, and Yue Can excitedly snapped photos and videos to share online.

 

Bo Wanzhao noticed that Yue Can had been sending her more messages than usual today, as if afraid she might be lonely.

 

Yue Can asked, “Do you have plans for tonight?”

 

Bo Wanzhao replied, “Same as usual.”

 

Later that evening, they planned to go to a small pub to listen to live music and ring in the New Year. Yue Can had already reserved a table in advance, knowing it would be impossible to get a spot last-minute.

 

The pub was packed, buzzing with the festive energy of people celebrating together.

 

As they chatted, the three of them sipped on drinks. Luo Yang, ever composed, only took a few sips. Zhong Ran wanted to drink more but held back, fearing she might reveal her secret crush if she had too much. Only Yue Can drank freely.

 

Yue Can hadn’t drunk much, but her tolerance was low. By midnight, she was visibly tipsy. “Let’s go back to the hotel,” she murmured.

 

“Yeah, let’s go to bed. I’m so sleepy too,” Zhong Ran mumbled.

 

To make it easier to celebrate the New Year, they had booked a hotel room upstairs. A quick elevator ride brought them to their room.

 

Back in the hotel room, Yue Can sat on the sofa by the floor-to-ceiling window, checking the time on her phone. She had intended to send Bo Wanzhao a “Happy New Year” text, but in her hazy state, she accidentally placed a voice call instead.

 

Bo Wanzhao, still awake, answered immediately. The first thing she heard was Yue Can’s warm, soft voice: “Happy New Year.”

 

Yue Can repeated, “Bo Wanzhao, I hope you’ll be even happier in the new year.”

 

Bo Wanzhao remained silent, the warmth in Yue Can’s voice seeping into her heart.

 

Yue Can persisted, “Bo Wanzhao, why aren’t you saying anything? You haven’t wished me a Happy New Year yet…”

 

After Yue Can rattled off several more sentences, Bo Wanzhao frowned, sensing something was off. “Have you been drinking?” she asked.

 

“Mmm, just a little,” Yue Can replied.

 

Hearing the quietness around her, Bo Wanzhao asked, “Are you back in your dorm now?”

 

“I didn’t go back to the dorm today. I’m at a hotel,” Yue Can replied.

 

Bo Wanzhao’s tone immediately became more urgent. “Who are you with?”

 

“I…” Yue Can’s mind blanked for a moment. She rubbed her head. “With friends.”

 

“What friends?” Bo Wanzhao pressed. “Send me your location right now.”

 

“Huh?” Yue Can had never heard Bo Wanzhao sound so anxious before. So she can get nervous too, she thought, her attention drifting. “Are you worried about me?”

 

Bo Wanzhao repeated, “Who are you with?”

 

“It’s not what you think. I’m safe. I’m with Zhong Ran and the others,” Yue Can reassured her, realizing Bo Wanzhao had misunderstood. “You remember Zhong Ran, right? You met her before—the one who talks so dramatically, likes pretty girls, and even asked for your contact information.”

 

Zhong Ran, who was nearby, shot Yue Can a speechless glance. Why am I still being talked about?

 

Bo Wanzhao said to her, “Then let Zhong Ran answer the phone.”

 

“Do I have to?” Yue Can bargained.

 

“Yue Can,” Bo Wanzhao said softly, at her wit’s end, “Just listen.”

 

Yue Can immediately became obedient and handed the phone to Zhong Ran.

 

“Huh?” Zhong Ran asked.

 

“Just tell her I’m safe,” Yue Can said.

 

Zhong Ran took the phone and, hearing Bo Wanzhao’s voice, immediately greeted her sweetly as “Sister.” Only after confirming the situation with Zhong Ran did Bo Wanzhao finally relax completely.

 

The phone returned to Yue Can’s hand.

 

“Get some rest and go to bed early,” Bo Wanzhao said.

 

Reluctant to hang up, Yue Can began to whine softly, “I don’t want to sleep yet. Do you want to sleep? Your voice sounds so nice. Can you talk to me a little longer? If you do, I might get greedy…”

 

Zhong Ran was completely stunned. After knowing Yue Can for so long, she had never realized she could be so clingy.

 

Luo Yang emerged from the bathroom and whispered to Zhong Ran, “Who’s Can Can talking to?” She sensed that if the conversation continued, they might overhear something inappropriate, which would be awkward.

 

“With her sister,” Zhong Ran replied.

 

Luo Yang asked skeptically, “Her sister?”

 

Zhong Ran felt a flicker of doubt. What kind of proper sisters talk like that? It’s all dirty talk. Even I’m embarrassed listening to it.

 

Bo Wanzhao leaned against the headboard. “You’ve had too much to drink. Don’t do this again.”

 

“I’m not drunk, just a little dizzy.” Yue Can curled up on the sofa, pouring out her thoughts on the first day of the new year. “Bo Wanzhao, do you think I’m being a pest? Do you find me annoying? I sent you so many messages today. If you’re annoyed, I won’t bother you so much in the future.”

 

“No,” Bo Wanzhao replied.

 

Yue Can didn’t quite believe her. “Are you really not annoyed?”

 

This was the second time Yue Can had asked this, clearly deeply concerned. Bo Wanzhao said softly, “Really. Don’t overthink it.”

 

Hearing this reassurance, Yue Can smiled happily, her laughter lazy. “Bo Wanzhao.”

 

Bo Wanzhao patiently replied, “What is it?”

 

Yue Can paused for a moment. “I think… I miss you a little.”