For a few seconds, Jiang Yan’s brain completely froze.
The warm breath of the girl lingered at his ear, coming in quick, nervous little bursts, making the faintest sounds. After she quickly jumped back, Jiang Yan flexed his stiff fingers, resisting the urge to touch his ear. He steadied his breathing and, noticing her evasive gaze, teased, “What’s this? Getting addicted to being a tease?”
“…”
Lin Tiao’s face instantly flushed from her ears down to her neck, her mind blank.
She really had accidentally kissed him again, hadn’t she?
She had already said she could jump down on her own! How was she supposed to know Jiang Yan would suddenly step forward—and catch her perfectly?
Thinking about it, Lin Tiao’s initial embarrassment disappeared, replaced with a bit of righteous indignation. “Who’s teasing who? You’re the one who stepped forward!”
“I didn’t ask you to catch me. I told you I could handle it.”
The more she talked, the more she felt justified, straightening her posture with confidence. “You don’t trust me! You were taking advantage of me!”
“…”
In his whole life, Jiang Yan had never seen someone so confidently twist the situation to make the dead come alive, to turn black into white, right in front of him.
He narrowed his eyes, his tone a bit chilly. “You’re pretty bold, aren’t you?”
“Just a little,” Lin Tiao replied sincerely, not a hint of modesty.
Jiang Yan reached up to touch his ear and laughed in disbelief. “Want me to show you what real taking advantage looks like?”
Lin Tiao: “…”
No way to out-sass him, just no way.
When they finally got back to the classroom, class was already halfway over. Fortunately, the literature teacher wasn’t there, so Lin Tiao slipped in through the back door, ducking her head. As she sat down, she looked up to see Jiang Yan strolling boldly in through the front.
“…”
Was being late really something to be proud of?
Luckily, as they took their seats, the teacher still hadn’t returned. Hu Hanghang leaned over from the back, calling, “Why were you two so slow? Did you get caught by a teacher?”
“No,” Lin Tiao scratched her head. “It’s just… my arm’s not exactly convenient, so we took a bit longer.”
Jiang Yan was casually playing on his phone. Hearing this, he looked up at Lin Tiao but stayed silent.
“Oh.” Hu Hanghang didn’t seem interested in digging deeper. “The teacher asked where you two went.”
“What did you say?” Lin Tiao asked, remembering the time Song Yuan covered for her and Jiang Yan sleeping in the infirmary by claiming they’d gotten into a fight.
“I told them you two went to the bathroom.”
“…”
Incredible.
Lin Tiao opened her mouth, unsure of what to say, when the literature teacher walked in, chalk box in hand. She quickly turned her head, glancing over at Jiang Yan, who hadn’t stopped playing on his phone since they entered.
“Teacher’s here.”
The literature teacher, Mr. Mu Hui, was the youngest—and supposedly the most handsome—teacher in the department.
He had spread that rumor himself, as he was the only teacher under thirty.
Jiang Yan, hearing her, closed his phone and put it in his drawer, while Mr. Mu, without missing a beat, shot a few subtle glances their way.
Lin Tiao figured he was definitely planning something.
Sure enough, the moment Mr. Mu set down his chalk, he said, “Did everyone have time to think about the question I gave you?”
A few students mumbled in response.
Mr. Mu nodded, resting his hand on the podium. “Then, Lin Tiao, why don’t you stand up and answer?”
Lin Tiao: “…”
She had no clue what the question was.
After a pause, Mr. Mu added, “Not sure? Then let’s hear from your desk mate.”
Lin Tiao looked sideways at Jiang Yan and caught sight of a piece of paper on his desk with a note.
The question is: Who is the person you admire most?
“…”
You’ve got to be kidding.
Jiang Yan, ignoring Lin Tiao’s glare that practically screamed, You knew and didn’t tell me?! Some friend you are, slowly stood up.
Many classmates turned to watch, intrigued by the pair of trouble-prone desk mates.
Lin Tiao lowered her head, her fingers unconsciously picking at the edge of the desk.
The classroom was silent.
Then, next to her, she heard Jiang Yan’s calm voice, “The person I admire most is my desk mate.”
“…” What?!
Mr. Mu had assumed Jiang Yan didn’t know the question either and would make something up, but the response surprised him. Curious, he continued, “And why do you admire her?”
Jiang Yan, in his relaxed stance but with a straight face, replied, “I admire that she has a desk mate like me.”
Mr. Mu: “…”
The whole class: “…”
Lin Tiao: “…”
“Pfft!”
In the silence, someone couldn’t hold back, and soon the entire class burst into laughter that refused to subside.
Lin Tiao locked eyes with Jiang Yan, her face in disbelief. “Your narcissistics is unmatched.”
“Thanks for the compliment.”
Jiang Yan replied nonchalantly, though his gaze drifted, catching a glimpse of her lips. The memory of that accidental kiss flashed through his mind, and he quickly looked away, touching his ear, which had grown warm.
Thanks to his unconventional answer, Mr. Mu let the tardiness slide, only making a few light remarks before moving on.
The remaining ten minutes of class passed quickly.
As soon as the bell rang, Xu Yichuan called out from the other side of the room, “Yan, that answer was truly next level—pure brilliance.”
Jiang Yan ignored him, pulling out his phone to watch an episode of a show.
A minute later, he glanced at Lin Tiao. “Lin Tiao.”
She was mid-conversation with Meng Xin, venting about the incident. She looked up at him. “Yeah?”
“I think I’m pretty good.”
“You think I’d believe that?”
“Doesn’t matter. Would you like to be good for once?”
Looking annoyed, Lin Tiao responded, “Whatever you need to say, just say it already.”
Jiang Yan chuckled, reached into his drawer, and pulled out a paper, handing it to her. “Take this to Old Yu’s office.”
Lin Tiao took it, glancing at the page with a look of horror. “What…is this? Did you learn some ritual from a temple? This looks like you’re trying to cast a spell!”
“…”
“Well, Old Yu can be a pain sometimes, but he’s a decent teacher. Aren’t you being a bit ruthless?”
“…”
What the heck.
While they bantered, Xu Yichuan walked over and glanced at the paper in her hands. “Didn’t expect it, Tiao-mei—you can draw talismans too.”
Seeing Jiang Yan’s darkening expression, Lin Tiao chuckled and kindly informed Xu Yichuan, “It’s actually Yan’s reflection letter.”
“Heh…” Xu Yichuan gave a stiff wave, retreating swiftly as if he’d eaten something wrong at lunch that had clouded his brain.
As Xu Yichuan sprinted away as if avoiding something, Lin Tiao couldn't help but laugh brightly. However, when she glanced at the reflection letter in her hand, her smile faded slightly, and she turned back to Jiang Yan.
“But really, your handwriting is atrocious,” she remarked.
Lin Tiao had been sent to learn calligraphy for over a year because her mother had deemed her writing insufficiently beautiful. Compared to his writing, she could have easily outshined him by several streets.
Jiang Yan shrugged off her comment, “As long as you can read it, that’s good enough.”
“The key point is…” Lin Tiao placed the reflection letter in front of him. “Aside from the three characters at the top, I genuinely can’t make out anything else you wrote here.”
“Is it really that exaggerated?” Jiang Yan lazily stretched out two fingers to hold the paper. “Isn’t this pretty easy to read?”
Leaning against the wall in a relaxed manner, he continued, “I, Jiang Yan, shouldn’t be playing on my phone during class—no, no, no—”
He abruptly stopped, staring at his own handwriting.
Lin Tiao turned her head away to hide her laughter, her shoulders shaking. After regaining her composure, she glanced at him again and couldn’t resist smiling, “I’ve already decided on your birthday gift this year: a set of Tian Yingzhang’s calligraphy practice books.”
At her words, the smile that had been hanging on Jiang Yan’s lips faltered, and his expression darkened.
Unaware of the change, Lin Tiao cheerfully asked, “When’s your birthday? I’ll just buy it and send it to your house.”
Jiang Yan remained silent.
Lin Tiao lifted her head, but he suddenly turned to look out the window, his profile looking clear and elegant. His voice was flat and devoid of emotion as he replied, “I don’t celebrate my birthday.”
The moment those words left his mouth, Lin Tiao froze. Her laughter was abruptly cut off, leaving her staring at him in confusion.
She opened her mouth, as if wanting to say something, but in the end, no words came out.
Clearly, Jiang Yan didn’t want to elaborate on the subject. After saying that, he fell silent, and when the class bell rang, he simply laid his head down on his desk, drifting off to sleep without another word.
Lin Tiao stared at the swirl of his hair for several seconds. It wasn’t until their biology teacher walked into the classroom that she sighed and pulled her gaze away.
In the classroom, the teacher’s voice was neither too loud nor too soft but steady and ongoing.
Jiang Yan hadn’t fallen asleep. Resting his head on his arm, he gazed out at the bright blue sky, his thoughts wandering.
The last time he celebrated his birthday was when he was seven years old.
That day, the sky was as blue and clear as it was now—endless and cloudless.
His father, Fang Hai, had finished work early and personally driven to the school to pick him up.
On the way home, Jiang Yan insisted on buying the latest Transformers toy, but Fang Hai refused. He whined throughout the journey, feeling unjustly wronged.
It wasn’t until they reached the apartment complex that Jiang Yan realized his father genuinely wouldn’t buy him the toy. The normally obedient little tyrant couldn’t help but cry.
At that moment, Fang Hai smiled and lifted him from the passenger seat, rubbing his stubbly chin against Jiang Yan’s face. “Little crybaby, Dad already bought you the Transformers you wanted.”
Little Jiang Yan sniffled, “…Really?”
“When have dad ever lied to you?” Fang Hai said, holding Jiang Yan with one arm while using the other to open the trunk, pulling out the Transformers toy inside.
Little Jiang Yan clapped his hands in excitement, hugging the toy tightly on the way home.
Once they arrived, Fang Hai personally cooked dinner, quickly preparing a feast. However, Jiang Yan's mother didn’t come home until late that night.
Jiang Yan sat on the sofa, watching Fang Hai repeatedly dial her number until he was met with the message that her phone was off.
Fang Hai smiled at him, “Let’s eat first; we can’t delay your birthday celebration.”
At that time, Jiang Yan didn’t notice the bitterness and sadness hidden behind his father’s smile.
With Fang Hai by his side, he had a joyful birthday.
But at eleven that night, when Jiang Yan was fast asleep, his mother woke him up. Rubbing his eyes, he saw her sitting by his bed, while Fang Hai was nowhere to be found.
“Mom…” Little Jiang Yan hadn’t fully grasped what was happening yet.
Yu Fengxian gently patted his head and smiled softly, “Get up, sweetie. Mom’s taking you to a fun place.”
“Where’s Dad?” Jiang Yan asked quietly, noticing Fang Hai’s absence as he got dressed.
“Dad went out,” Yu Fengxian replied, picking him up and grabbing her bag as they left the home they had lived in for seven years without a second glance.
Once they reached the bottom of the apartment complex, Little Jiang Yan remembered something. “Mom, I forgot my backpack, and I didn’t bring the Transformers Dad gave me.”
Yu Fengxian stopped walking, set him down, and squatted beside him, her tone serious. “Baby, Fang Hai isn’t your real dad. Mom’s taking you to see your real dad. We’ll get those things once we’re with him.”
Although Little Jiang Yan was young, he could understand her words.
His eyes quickly reddened as he pushed Yu Fengxian away. “I don’t want to! I only want my dad! I don’t want another dad!”
Yu Fengxian didn’t say anything more; she picked him up and headed for the complex's entrance. Little Jiang Yan struggled desperately, but it was futile.
He didn’t understand why his mother said that Fang Hai wasn’t his real dad, but he clearly knew that by leaving today, he would never see his dad again.
He fought with all his might, but Yu Fengxian remained unmoved.
As they reached the entrance, he was locked in the car, watching Fang Hai rush out of the complex, holding the Transformers toy in his hand.
He cried out loud, trying to get Fang Hai’s attention.
But Yu Fengxian wouldn’t let him out. Instead, she exited the car and walked over to Fang Hai, talking to him from a distance. Soon after, she returned to the car, holding Jiang Yan’s Transformers toy.
“Let’s go.”
As the car started, Jiang Yan frantically tried to escape, gripping the car door tightly. His vision blurred with tears, yet he could still see the familiar figure standing not far away.
“Dad…”
Thus, Jiang Yan was taken away, moving to a new city, having a new family, and acquiring a new dad.
He never saw Fang Hai again, nor did he return to that city.
Jiang Yan hated the new city, despised his new family, and resented his new dad.
He also never celebrated his birthday again.
He began to skip classes, loathed studying, and got involved with delinquent students, fighting and causing trouble—everything Yu Fengxian disapproved of.
He felt like a fallen angel, plummeting from heaven into hell.
His dark and violent demeanor reflected his despair and nihilism.
Yu Fengxian had no way to handle him.
Ultimately, it was Fang Hai who changed everything.
In Jiang Yan's second year of middle school, Yu Fengxian received a call from afar. After a few minutes of conversation, she sat on the sofa, dazed.
When Jiang Yan returned home at midnight, mother and son hadn’t exchanged more than a few words since moving there years ago.
As usual, Jiang Yan pretended not to see her and headed upstairs. Yu Fengxian stood up and called out to him, “Jiang Yan.”
He paused and turned to look at her.
Seeing the distance and coldness on his face, Yu Fengxian’s heart ached. She knew that what she was about to say would be like a thunderbolt to him.
She steeled herself and spoke, “Your dad… he doesn’t have much time left.”
Jiang Yan scoffed, “What does it matter to me if he’s dying…” Before he could finish, he suddenly realized which dad she was referring to.
Yu Fengxian’s eyes were red, “The hospital called from there. They said it could be any day now; he wants to see you. You should go back, after all, he has been your dad for seven years.”
Jiang Yan looked at her. “And what about you? Aren’t you going back to see him? After all, he has been your husband for seven years.”
Yu Fengxian stiffened, “I… I’m not going back.”
Jiang Yan seemed to anticipate her response. He said nothing, silently retreating to his room.
The next morning, when Yu Fengxian came to wake him, she discovered he had already left home.
Jiang Yan had asked a friend to buy him a ticket for the earliest flight.
He had drifted through the years, but he had managed to make a few close friends who would risk their lives for him.
By the time his flight landed in Xicheng, it was already past nine in the morning. The morning mist had cleared, and after many years, Jiang Yan stepped onto this land once again.
He didn’t linger at the airport and quickly headed to the hospital where Fang Hai was.
Fang Hai was in the late stages of stomach cancer.
Yu Fengxian had learned about it the year she left; the initial diagnosis had been benign, but it had suddenly transformed into malignant late-stage cancer, leaving him in this state of exhaustion.
When Jiang Yan entered the hospital room, Fang Hai had just taken his medication. Over the years, he had become a shadow of his former self, gaunt with deep-set eyes, devoid of the charming elegance he once possessed.
Jiang Yan remained in the hospital room until around three in the afternoon when Fang Hai woke briefly, but his consciousness was still hazy, and he fell asleep again after a few minutes.
This sleep lasted until nine at night.
When Fang Hai opened his eyes, the night was dim outside, and he saw Jiang Yan sitting beside him. His smile was as warm as before, though his voice was weak. “You came.”
Jiang Yan said nothing, just stared at him.
Fang Hai didn’t mind and continued to sit up, propping himself up. “Your mom said you’re not studying well, that you’re going down the wrong path. You’re still so young; you can’t do this.”
Jiang Yan chuckled lightly, finding the comment amusing. “You’re not my dad; why do you care what I do?”
Fang Hai didn’t react to the sting in his words, still smiling lightly. “Why are you so irritable now? You’re not as cute as you used to be.”
“…” Jiang Yan lowered his eyes, turning to look out the window as his eyes gradually reddened. “If you want to care about me, you have to care for the rest of your life.”
Fang Hai remained silent, only letting out a helpless sigh.
The hospital room was quiet, filled with the relentless chirping of cicadas outside and the warm summer evening breeze that carried a dry heat.
Jiang Yan hadn’t eaten all day, and he felt a bit hungry now. He stood up, preparing to go downstairs to buy something. Looking up at Fang Hai, he asked, “Do you want anything?”
Fang Hai, despite not being able to eat much, still requested a bowl of congee, reminding Jiang Yan, “There’s a snack street right across from the hospital. Be careful crossing the road.”
“Okay.”
With that, Jiang Yan left the room.
Half an hour later, he returned with food in hand, stepping out of the elevator only to see several doctors rushing into the familiar hospital room.
Jiang Yan's heart sank; he tightened his grip on the food he was holding and hurried to the door, peering through the small glass window. He saw the doctors gathered around the bed, seemingly discussing something.
He couldn’t hear anything.
It felt like two worlds separated by a single door.
After about ten minutes, a doctor stepped out and, seeing the boy standing outside, removed his mask. “You must be Jiang Yan.”
Jiang Yan nodded.
The doctor sighed, his tone heavy. “Your father is waiting for you.”
Much later, Jiang Yan could no longer recall how he entered that hospital room. All he remembered was that it was unbearably hot that night, so hot that he couldn’t control the tears streaming down his face.
Fang Hai’s body had grown frail and exhausted, as if he were holding on for dear life. But upon seeing Jiang Yan, it felt as though that final breath left him, and he could no longer hold on.
Jiang Yan approached the bed and knelt beside it, finally reaching out to grasp Fang Hai's bony hand, his voice hoarse. “Dad—”
Fang Hai opened his eyes, though his energy was nearly gone. He managed to keep a smile on his face. “I know you blame me for not keeping you, but what could I have done to keep you?”
“Jiang Yan, don’t hate your mother, and don’t hold any grudges against your dad.” Fang Hai lifted his hand to pat Jiang Yan’s head gently. “None of this is their fault; I’ve never held anything against them.”
“I don’t blame…” Jiang Yan's voice choked, and tears fell onto Fang Hai’s hand.
“Jiang Yan, I hope you’ll be a good person—strong and upright.” Fang Hai struggled to keep his eyes open, wanting to see him clearly.
“You must be kind, gentle, love this world, and cherish everyone who loves you.”
Jiang Yan's heart ached at his father's words, and he squeezed Fang Hai's hand tighter, trying to memorize the warmth of his touch, even as the life force slowly ebbed away.
“Dad, I promise…” he whispered, voice trembling with emotion.
Fang Hai smiled weakly, his eyes beginning to close. “Remember, no matter what happens, I’ll always be proud of you.”
With those final words, Fang Hai took a deep breath, and Jiang Yan felt the warmth of his hand slipping away.
……
Fang Hai was gone.
He was an orphan, and the funeral was handled by Yu Fengyan. Few people attended—only a few teachers from his office.
Since Fang Hai's passing, Jiang Yan hadn’t uttered a word, not even on the day they took Fang Hai for cremation. He stood there, watching as Fang Hai was placed into a small, cold box, into that narrow space.
Finally, he couldn't hold back any longer. He knelt before Fang Hai's gravestone, crying as he had when he left home at the age of seven, when he left Fang Hai behind. The tears flowed uncontrollably.
He no longer had a father.
Jiang Yan gazed at the photo of Fang Hai on the gravestone, where he appeared calm and smiling. He recalled what Fang Hai had said in a daze just before passing.
“She loved him, loved you, loved all the beautiful things in this world, but she never loved me. It’s not her fault; I must not have been good enough.”
This man had loved a woman when he was young, a woman who did not love him back, yet he loved her all his life.
Jiang Yan believed he was the best person in the world.
Jiang Yan slept through two classes, and by the end of the third class, Song Yuan called out to Lin Tiao, asking, “What’s wrong with Jiang Yan?”
Lin Tiao frowned, glancing at Song Yuan, her voice lowered, “I don’t know. This afternoon, I mentioned his birthday, that I wanted to give him a gift.”
Song Yuan had known Jiang Yan for several years, well before he met Hu Hanghang and the others, and he understood the things happening in Jiang Yan's life. Upon hearing Lin Tiao’s words, he understood.
He smiled at Lin Tiao, “I get it. He’s fine, just feeling a bit down. He’ll be okay later. It has nothing to do with you.”
Lin Tiao thought to herself, I know he’s feeling down too, but I want to know why he feels this way!
However, this was ultimately someone else's matter, and it was clear that Song Yuan knew the truth but wasn’t willing to elaborate, so she didn’t press for an answer.
But in class, seeing the usually lazy and indifferent school bully like a pitiful creature slumped over his desk, Lin Tiao felt she had to do something.
The last period was Mr. Yu's class.
As he entered the classroom, he saw Jiang Yan slumped over his desk. Initially intending to wake him, he thought better of it and let him sleep.
Lin Tiao had already prepared her explanation for when Mr. Yu took attendance, but Mr. Yu didn’t call on Jiang Yan, continuing with his lesson as usual.
“…”
The final class passed quickly.
As soon as Mr. Yu left, Lin Tiao followed right after him. Jiang Yan, who had slept through three classes, finally sat up not long after she left.
He rubbed his face, pulled something from his drawer, and stood up to leave.
Song Yuan followed, slinging his arm over Jiang Yan's shoulder, casually asking, “Thinking about your dad again?”
Jiang Yan hadn’t initially fallen asleep, but he did end up sleeping soundly. Now that he was awake, his voice was a bit hoarse. “What?” He turned to look, asking, “Where’s my deskmate?”
“Not sure. She left right after class.” Song Yuan thought of Lin Tiao’s worried expression earlier and chuckled, “Lin Tiao seemed quite concerned about you.”
“Why would my deskmate be worried about me? That just shows we’re a loving couple,” Jiang Yan replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He and Song Yuan walked together into the boys’ restroom.
Jiang Yan fished a cigarette out of his pocket, biting it between his lips. As he reached for his lighter, Song Yuan handed him a flame, teasing, “You brought a cigarette but no lighter? Do you eat without chopsticks?”
Jiang Yan looked down, slowly exhaling smoke. “Quitting.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“Showing you an example of a failed attempt to quit.” Jiang Yan smiled, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“…” Song Yuan didn’t want to engage further, turning his attention to the window. “How long have we known each other?”
“A few years, I guess. I can’t remember,” Jiang Yan replied, holding half a cigarette.
His meeting with Song Yuan was somewhat accidental. When he was first brought to the new city by Yu Fengyan, he didn’t know anyone and spent all his time in Yu Fengyan’s villa, not venturing outside.
One time, he really wanted to return to Xicheng to see Fang Hai. He took Yu Fengyan’s wallet and ran out. At that young age, he had no idea how vast the villa area was.
After running for a while, he got lost. Eventually, he gave up, only to hear a child around his age crying from a tree.
Beneath the tree was a golden retriever without a leash, barking at the tree.
The child was howling, and Jiang Yan, already feeling miserable, heard the mixed sounds of crying and barking. At just seven years old, he mustered the courage to grab a nearby stick and rushed over.
With no strategy, he swung wildly, startling the golden retriever into running away. The child climbed down from the tree, chasing after Jiang Yan and calling him “brother.”
That child was Song Yuan. After Jiang Yan saved him, he followed Jiang Yan everywhere for the next two years.
Song Yuan returned to Xicheng for school, while Jiang Yan fell into self-destruction, and they lost contact except during the summer and winter breaks.
Recalling that time made Song Yuan chuckle, “The way you looked back then scared me. I thought that dog had it out for you.”
“Turns out it did,” Jiang Yan said, crushing the cigarette and tossing it into the trash. He washed his hands at the sink.
Song Yuan stood beside him, and his phone vibrated in his pocket. He shook his hands dry, pulled it out, and checked the message from Lin Tiao.
“Does Jiang Yan have any favorite foods?”
He chuckled and glanced at the person beside him, who was washing his hands earnestly, and typed out a reply.
“He likes eating shit.”
Meanwhile, Lin Tiao, far from the school, saw the message and was like “……”
After buying her things, Lin Tiao went to have dinner with Meng Xin. By the time they returned to the classroom, it was already late. Everyone had eaten and returned, crammed into the classroom and playing around excitedly.
The class's art committee member, Zhou Xin, was leading a few girls in preparing a display for the Mid-Autumn Festival, and several students were lined up at the back of the classroom.
Carrying a bag of items, Lin Tiao entered and glanced at her seat, not seeing Jiang Yan. She scanned the classroom.
Finally, she spotted Jiang Yan surrounded by a few boys near Xu Yichuan’s desk, holding his phone with a calm expression, seemingly engrossed in a game, his long fingers tapping rapidly on the screen.
The boys formed two circles around him.
The inner circle consisted of Hu Hanghang and his friends, while the outer circle was filled with other boys from the class. Aside from Hu Hanghang and his friends, the rest seemed somewhat intimidated by Jiang Yan, standing at a distance, leaving a clear space in front of him that faced the classroom’s back door.
Lin Tiao didn’t call him. After sitting down with her bag, she heard Hu Hanghang shout from the back, “Hey, Jiang Yan, why aren’t you playing? We’re about to clear the level!”
“What’s going on?” Jiang Yan asked as he sat down.
“Just went out to buy some things,” Lin Tiao turned to look at him. “When did you wake up?”
“It's been a while,” Jiang Yan replied.
Lin Tiao studied him for a moment and noticed he had returned to his usual self; the earlier dejected demeanor was gone.
“Here, eat this.” Lin Tiao placed the shopping bag on his desk, and as she lifted it, the contents spilled out, filling the entire table.
Jiang Yan smiled, “You’re raising pigs now?”
“No, not at all,” Lin Tiao blinked innocently. “I bought these for you.”
He raised an eyebrow, not quite understanding. “Huh? What do you mean?”
Lin Tiao rubbed her brow, “This afternoon, I noticed you didn’t seem quite right.” She licked her lip and looked into his eyes. “I thought about buying you something…”
To cheer you up.
Before she could finish, Jiang Yan seemed to get it. “You wanted to buy something to cheer me up?”
Lin Tiao felt that the word "cheer" sounded a bit off, but it was indeed what she meant, so she replied vaguely, “Uh… something like that. Anyway, you don’t need to worry about it now; just consider it dinner.”
Jiang Yan glanced at the table piled high with snacks: jelly, chips, colorful candies. Suddenly, he blurted out, “Want.”
“What?” Lin Tiao looked at him in surprise.
In the noisy classroom, the boy's eyes lowered, appearing gentle and reserved in the fading light. He suddenly lifted his head to look at her, saying, “Want to be cheered up.”
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