Vol2 Chapter 37: Unhappy

“Senior Brother, how about tremella soup for dessert?” Xia Mi bounced ahead, her skirt fluttering, slender calves peeking out, white sandals revealing her toes. “With your favorite osmanthus sugar.”

“How’d you know I like osmanthus sugar?” Chu Zihang asked.

“Guess.” Xia Mi stuck out her tongue playfully.

Chu Zihang, ever cooperative, fell into thought.

When had he let slip such personal details? Had she secretly investigated him?

“Ugh, you really forgot?” Xia Mi wrinkled her nose, pouting. “You forgot—I made tremella soup with Senior Sister Bai and brought you a bowl. You said it’d be better with osmanthus sugar.”

Chu Zihang froze, then said earnestly, “Sorry. I won’t forget again.”

“So, how were today’s dumplings? Be honest—liars swallow a thousand needles!” Xia Mi turned, staring at him seriously.

“Really delicious,” Chu Zihang replied. Once, his mom, on a whim, worried he’d miss good food in America, cooked dumplings herself. But those dark, lumpy things—could they even be called dumplings? Her cooking was downright inhumane, impossible to stomach. Yet Chu Zihang forced them down, not for taste but out of respect for someone who’d prepared food with care. Even if it was awful, you ate it, chugged water, or got your stomach pumped.

“You like it? I’ll make more for you!” Xia Mi grinned, delighted.

Chu Zihang nodded. In the future… huh?

Rain began to fall, first in scattered drops like the sky had spilled pearls, then thickening into a gauzy curtain. Xia Mi’s nose wrinkled, then relaxed. She drew a circle in the rain with her hand, as if catching something. “Senior Brother, wanna get wet?”

Chu Zihang’s throat tightened. “You’ll catch a cold.”

But Xia Mi had already kicked off her sandals, splashing barefoot into a puddle, water droplets glinting under the streetlamp. “As a kid, I thought rain was the Milky Way leaking. Then I learned…” She giggled, twirling in the rain, skirt flaring. “Only those who dance in the rain can catch the stars!”

Rain rolled down Chu Zihang’s temples into his collar. He watched Xia Mi reach for a rain-soaked osmanthus tree, petals falling, mingling with droplets from her hair. She turned back, water beads clinging to her lashes, sandals in hand, bare feet in a puddle, her smile radiant.

Zero, claiming she was sleepy, left first. Xia Mi dragged Chu Zihang to buy snacks, leaving just two in the room.

“What do you think of Junior Sister Xia Mi?” Bai Ci asked, munching on Zero’s leftover snacks.

“She’s great—pretty, cooks well, the ideal wife,” Lu Mingfei said.

“You like girls like that?” Bai Ci turned to him.

“Who wouldn’t? Lively, beautiful, chatty, and a great cook.”

Knock, knock, knock…

Lu Mingfei got up to open the door.

Back so soon? Not even twenty minutes.

A girl in a white dress stood there, head bowed, a butterfly hairpin in her flowing black hair.

It must’ve rained—she was soaked, her white dress clinging, skin half-visible, wet hair dripping. No time for fanciful thoughts, just a ghostly shock.

“Whoa, why’re you here?”

At the café, he’d checked QQ and saw Chen Wenwen’s message: “Mingfei, you there?” He’d replied, “Yeah, in Beijing. College sent us for something.” Then he’d logged off, lost in StarCraft, missing her follow-ups. And now Chen Wenwen had tracked him down. He scratched his hair, trying to fix his messy look, heart racing. Why was she here? Did that Aspasia dinner cause trouble? So somber for just a meal—no hand-holding! Why the “unplanned pregnancy” vibe?

Okay, trust science. A meal can’t make someone pregnant. Was she smitten, haunted by his sneaky charm in dreams, unable to resist visiting?

Yeah, right. That’s too good to happen to me.

Chen Wenwen clutched her skirt, trembling. After a long silence, tears streamed down her face.

“Don’t cry, don’t cry!” Lu Mingfei panicked.

If she was smitten, shouldn’t she hug him? Why this pregnancy-scare vibe? Was there some beyond-science nonsense? Did he have a Word Spirit that got girls pregnant via dinner?

He patted his pockets—damn, no tissues.

The internet always said thoughtful guys carry tissues for moments like this. Now he got it. No tissues? You can’t let a girl wipe tears on your sleeve—she’d complain it scratched her eyes.

Guess he wasn’t thoughtful. Why carry tissues when others did?

“I had no choice but to find you,” Chen Wenwen sobbed. “I asked so many people—they didn’t believe me. I left you a QQ message, saw you replied, but you didn’t come back online. I used IP-tracking QQ to find you.”

“Zhao Menghua’s missing,” she said, looking up, eyes red, lashes unable to hide the tears. Lu Mingfei jumped. How long had she cried to look like a rabbit?

“Zhao Menghua’s missing?” Lu Mingfei was confused. Shouldn’t Liu Miaomiao be freaking out? Even if she couldn’t handle it, the police or Zhao’s powerful dad could. It had nothing to do with Chen Wenwen—or him.

“You’ll help me, right?” She grabbed his hand.

He didn’t dodge in time. Her hands were cold, trembling. Staring at them, he gave a silent, bitter smile.

He’d been such an idiot. How many dreams had he had of holding Chen Wenwen’s hand, walking through foggy riverside paths, not knowing where they led, but feeling ecstatic? Her warm, soft hand—Chen Wenwen’s hand.

In high school, their biggest contact was a fingertip brush when passing something, and he’d secretly thrill for hours.

Pathetic.

Now she gripped his hand tightly, like she feared he’d pull away.

A chill ran down his back.

He turned. Bai Ci, eating chips, smiled at him.

“Go on, don’t mind me.”

She crunched another chip.

Lu Mingfei shivered, yanking his hand back.

“What’s up with Zhao Menghua?”

Chen Wenwen wiped her eyes, silent for a long time before whispering, “He went missing nine days ago. Everyone’s looking, but there’s no trace. Before he disappeared, he called me for less than thirty seconds, saying he was trapped in the subway.”

Lu Mingfei’s scalp tingled. This sounded like a ghost story—no wonder no one believed her. A slightly artsy, neurotic girl raving about her missing ex? She’d be laughed out. So she came to him—the one guy who’d nod and agree to anything she said.

“Please, help me,” she cried, looking wretched, like a ghost. He’d never imagined Chen Wenwen like this.

“I-I-I’ll help! Let me figure something out!” he stammered.

“Really?” Her promise gave her a flicker of hope. She glanced timidly at the chip-eating girl behind him, then at Lu Mingfei, giving a sad smile. “Is it pathetic, me coming to beg you like this?”

“Yeah, pretty pathetic.”

A cold voice cut in from behind.

“I don’t get it. What’s Lu Mingfei to you? A wish-granting tool? Zhao Menghua’s missing—what’s that got to do with him? I suggest you call the police.”

The voice was icy, devoid of extra emotion.

Chen Wenwen’s eyes welled up again, on the verge of tears.

Lu Mingfei turned, giving Bai Ci an awkward smile. “Well… we’re classmates…”

“Heh…” Bai Ci let out a silent laugh, crunching a chip hard. “Got it. Chat with your classmate, then. I won’t interrupt. Tell Xia Mi I’m leaving.”

She walked out without looking back. The streets were nearly empty in the rain. Head down, she walked along the edge, glancing at her reflection in a shop window, rain sliding down her cheeks.

She knew she wasn’t rational today, but seeing Chen Wenwen made her inexplicably angry.

Ugh, is Chen Wenwen that important to you, Lu Mingfei?

How noble, so loyal and righteous.

She treated you like a dog, ignoring you unless she needed something. Zhao Menghua’s missing—why’s that your problem? He saw you as an enemy! Haha, I don’t get it, Lu Mingfei.

Shouldn’t she face the consequences?

You know what they did. Why are you still like this?

A whistle interrupted her thoughts. She turned to see four thuggish guys surrounding her, the leader flipping a folding knife, a half-faded tattoo scar visible on his shoulder.

“Wanna have some fun with us?”

Bai Ci looked up, her golden pupils locking onto them, an overwhelming tide of majesty surging forth!

You can’t stand seeing others helpless, but why was no one there to pull you up when you were at your lowest, most desperate?

Has anyone in this world ever truly given you warmth?

You’re always so gentle, aren’t you?

So gentle it hurts.

It’s infuriating, Lu Mingfei.