CS - 18

It was past ten o’clock in the evening.

A lamp was on in Chi Yao’s living room. He sat with his head lowered, a copy of How to Knit a Scarf spread open beside him.

The off-white scarf in his hands was nearly complete, with only a small section left to finish.

His phone buzzed incessantly beside him.

Xu Ting: Wanna play games? Wanna play games?

Xu Ting: Hurry up, we’re all waiting for you to go online.

Ten minutes passed.

Xu Ting: Big bro.

Xu Ting: Is your contact info just for show? You don’t even reply to messages?

Annoyed, Chi Yao reluctantly freed one hand and tapped twice on his phone screen. In the pop-up asking, “Do you want to block this contact?” he selected “Yes.”

As a result, when Xu Ting tried sending another message, a glaring red exclamation mark appeared next to it.

Furious, Xu Ting immediately called Chi Yao: “You’d better give me a damn good reason for this today.”

Chi Yao’s voice remained as cold as ever: “If you don’t want my contact info, that’s fine too.”

“So this is your—”

At this moment, Xu Ting felt like a wronged lover: “Reason for blocking me?”

Chi Yao: “There are other reasons too.”

Xu Ting asked: “Like what?”

Chi Yao: “You’re too annoying.”

“…”

This reason was even worse than the previous one.

Speechless, Xu Ting said: “I just wanted to ask if you’re playing games or not.”

Chi Yao: “No.”

Xu Ting: “You haven’t been online for days. Are you at home right now?”

Chi Yao: “Where else would I be?”

“So why didn’t you reply to my messages?” Xu Ting complained, genuinely puzzled. “What have you been doing at home every day?”

Chi Yao had his phone on speaker. One leg was bent, yarn wrapped around his hands, and a tutorial book, already halfway read, lay beside him.

He spoke softly: “…Helping someone knit a scarf. What else could I be doing?”

Xu Ting couldn’t hear clearly: “Someone? What?”

“It’s none of your business,” Chi Yao lazily replied. “I’m hanging up.”

________________________________________

Though Lin Zhe Xia had asked Chi Yao to help her knit the scarf, she still tossed and turned before bed that night, feeling a bit guilty.

It was supposed to be a gift.

But after all, it wasn’t something she had knitted herself.

Lin He’s birthday was drawing closer.

Thinking about giving it to her the day after tomorrow felt… inadequate.

Before bed, she decided to take her saved New Year’s money and head to the mall the next day to see if she could find another suitable gift.

________________________________________

The next day.

To avoid raising Lin He’s suspicions, she planned to slip out after dinner.

Based on her understanding of Lin He, after cleaning the kitchen, she would rest in her room for a while. But just as Lin Zhe Xia carefully pushed her bedroom door open a crack, preparing to sneak out—she saw Lin He and Wei Ping standing by the bathroom door in the hallway.

Wei Ping was supporting Lin He.

Lin He leaned against him, one hand covering her mouth.

Wei Ping carefully supported her with one hand while pulling the bathroom door shut with the other: “Why has your morning sickness been so bad these past few days?”

Lin He: “Lately, I’ve been throwing up after eating anything. The reaction seems to be getting stronger.”

Wei Ping helped her toward their room: “Let me help you lie down and rest for a bit. If you’re still uncomfortable, we’ll go to the hospital this afternoon.”

But Lin He didn’t think much of it: “No need, it’s not a big deal. When I was pregnant with Xia Xia, the reaction was even worse. This is still manageable.” Lowering her voice, she added, “Compared to that, I’ve been thinking lately about how to tell Xia Xia about the pregnancy.”

Hearing this, Lin Zhe Xia froze mid-motion, her hand poised to push the door.

Lin He continued: “The other day when I got sick, she walked in on me. I didn’t know what to say.”

“In short, I haven’t found the right opportunity yet.”

“I also don’t know how she’ll react to this child.”

“…”

Lin He’s voice gradually faded as Wei Ping helped her back into their room. Once the door closed, all sound was shut out.

Lin Zhe Xia stood behind the door for a long time.

She stared at the sliver of hallway visible through the gap in the door.

It wasn’t until the phone in her hand vibrated that she snapped back to reality.

“Chi Dog”: It’s done.

“Chi Dog”: Come pick it up.

Lin Zhe Xia lowered her eyes.

After a long pause, she replied: Wait a bit. I’m busy right now. I’m not home.

After replying, she grabbed her keys and slipped out, avoiding Lin He and Wei Ping.

But she didn’t go to the mall, nor did she go to Chi Yao’s place.

She didn’t even know where she was going. She simply followed her subconscious and walked out.

The sky was dim in the evening. She wandered along the bustling streets for a while, chilled to the bone by the winter wind. Eventually, she made her way to the park and sat by the lake, realizing too late that she had rushed out without wearing her down jacket.

In truth, she just needed some fresh air.

The news of Lin He’s pregnancy came as a surprise.

It was a happy occasion, and she was genuinely happy for Lin He. But deep down, a sense of unease she had always carried quietly surfaced.

Their reconstituted family had been harmonious in every way.

Wei Ping was great in every aspect and treated her well too.

But over the years, their interactions had always been tinged with politeness.

A layer of politeness that couldn’t quite be put into words.

Lin Zhe Xia looked up at the gloomy sky. It hadn’t rained today, but she couldn’t help remembering the storm from her childhood—the day of the thunderstorm.

She told herself:

These were just some sudden, fleeting emotions.

A short walk would make them pass.

Not wanting Lin He to worry, she rubbed her freezing fingers and sent her a message: Mom, a classmate came to find me. I’m going shopping with her for a bit.

Then she switched screens and opened her chat with Chi Yao.

Chi Yao had sent her an unread message.

“Chi Dog”: Young Master Lin sure is busy with work.

She didn’t reply to that.

A few minutes later, Chi Yao sent another message: Don’t bother coming if it’s past ten. I’m too lazy to open the door for you.

Chi Yao’s finger joints rested on the side button of his phone.

The screen automatically darkened after timing out, but he pressed it again, and the screen lit up.

Displayed on the screen was their most recent conversation. The last line was Lin Zhe Xia’s reply.

A single word.

-Oh.

He Yang was playing games at his house, gripping the game controller and shouting: “Damn, I almost cleared the level just now—this boss is on his last legs!”

He threw the controller down and leaned over to ask: “Were you chatting with Xia Xia just now? You didn’t even notice my game progress.”

Chi Yao ignored him and simply said: “Something’s off.”

He Yang: “What’s off?”

Chi Yao shook his phone.

He Yang glanced at the chat log: “What’s off? It looks perfectly fine. The conversation is harmonious, with questions and answers.”

Chi Yao didn’t say anything further. He tapped the screen a few times and sent another three words: Where are you.

The person on the other end typed excruciatingly slowly.

After nearly half a minute, two sentences came back:

-I told you, I’m outside.

-My classmate came to find me. We’re taking a walk right now.

He Yang: “By the way, you two sure exchange a lot of text. I’m jealous. Can you guys reply to my messages sometimes too? Why do you act like you’re offline whenever it’s me?”

He Yang kept rambling, but Chi Yao suddenly stood up, put on his coat, and grabbed a bag containing something, heading out.

“Got something to do,” he said. “Going out for a bit.”

He Yang: “…What’s up?”

Chi Yao: “Been around you too long. Need to change places and breathe.”

________________________________________

Lin Zhe Xia sat by the lake for over twenty minutes.

She had just adjusted her emotions and prepared to pretend she hadn’t heard anything, go home, and wait for Lin He to find the right moment to tell her herself.

But before she could even stand up from the bench, she saw a familiar figure appear under the streetlamp far in the distance.

Even in his winter coat, the figure didn’t look bulky.

He still carried the unique slimness of a boy his age. Under the glow of the streetlamp, he stood out excessively.

“Taking a walk with your classmate?” Chi Yao stepped through the light, approaching her, enunciating each word deliberately: “Walk-ing?”

“…”

Lin Zhe Xia rarely lied, and now her rare attempt at deception had been caught red-handed.

She said guiltily: “My classmate just left.”

Chi Yao’s tone was icy: “Is that so?”

“Yes, we were just sitting here talking about life.”

To add credibility, she began elaborating on specific details: “It was Chen Lin. You know her. She’s been attending tutoring recently, and the academic pressure is getting to her.”

“Finished making things up?”

Chi Yao looked down at her. The person in front of him was wearing only a thin, oversized sweater, one she often wore at home. The girl’s ears were already red from the cold, and she had tucked her hands into her sleeves to keep warm, looking pitiful.

Chi Yao continued: “Want a few more minutes? Call Chen Lin now and check your story.”

Lin Zhe Xia frowned: “Why call her?”

“To confirm your alibi.”

“…”

Lin Zhe Xia fell silent for two seconds and cautiously ventured: “If you’re willing to give me the chance, I guess it’s not impossible?”

Chi Yao stared at her for a long while.

Lin Zhe Xia thought he would get angry, but unexpectedly, he said nothing.

Instead, Chi Yao reached up, unzipped his coat, and draped the black jacket, still warm from his body heat, over her, enveloping her completely.

Chi Yao’s clothes were several sizes too big for her.

His coat, which reached his knees, nearly touched her ankles.

She looked like a child wearing adult clothes, appearing awkward and clumsy.

After putting the coat on her, Chi Yao seemed to think it wasn’t enough.

He took out the finished scarf from the bag and wrapped it twice around her neck.

Chi Yao was indeed a little angry, but the source of his anger wasn’t quite what she had imagined.

After letting go, he forced a smile and said: “Lin Zhe Xia, is your brain filled with water?”

Her lower face hidden by the scarf, Lin Zhe Xia’s voice was muffled: “What fills my brain is pure genius.”

“Two degrees below zero, dressed like this. Very smart.”

“…”

Lin Zhe Xia: “Actually, today was an accident.”

“Oh,” Chi Yao said, “When you went out, your brain must’ve accidentally been eaten by zombies.”

“…”

Fine.

If he thought she had no brain, then so be it.

She really had been stupid to forget her coat when she left.

Lin Zhe Xia felt the warmth slowly seep back into her body. The chill receded, and her fingers stopped feeling stiff: “How did you know I was here?”

After tossing his coat to her, Chi Yao was left in only a sweater, which hung loosely on his frame.

He sat beside Lin Zhe Xia on the bench and said: “Where else would you go when you’re upset?”

This place was Lin Zhe Xia’s secret haven.

Ever since she was little, whenever she was upset—whether it was something big like failing an exam or something small like losing an argument with him—she always came here.

Lin Zhe Xia wiggled her fingers: “And how did you know I was upset?”

Chi Yao said: “That ‘oh.’”

Lin Zhe Xia: “‘Oh?’”

Chi Yao unlocked his phone and pulled up their chat.

Lin Zhe Xia glanced at it and remembered: “Isn’t replying with an ‘oh’ pretty normal? Sometimes I can be a bit aloof too.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Chi Yao mimicked her usual tone, indifferent yet cutting: “You’d say, ‘I have my keys; I can open the door myself. If you’ve got the guts, go ahead and change the lock.’”

Lin Zhe Xia opened her mouth but couldn’t refute him.

That was indeed something she would say.

“So,” Chi Yao shifted the topic, “what’s wrong?”

Lin Zhe Xia pretended not to understand, avoiding his gaze: “…What do you mean, ‘what’s wrong’?”

Chi Yao raised a hand, pressing his palm against the back of her head, forcing her to face him: “I’m asking, what happened today?”

Their eyes met.

Lin Zhe Xia found herself staring into those pale irises.

She could even see her own reflection clearly within them.

“Nothing,” she initially insisted.

“Really nothing?”

As she spoke, her nose brushed against the soft scarf, suddenly feeling a sting in her heart.

“It’s just… I suddenly felt a bit down. But now I’m…”

Better.

The last two words lingered on her tongue, unspoken.

She blinked, realizing she wanted to cry. When she opened her mouth again, her voice carried a distinct quiver: “I…”

How embarrassing.

She actually wanted to cry.

Something she had thought was insignificant—a fleeting emotion she didn’t think warranted sharing—now seemed to hold weight when someone earnestly asked about it.

Lin Zhe Xia didn’t continue.

She didn’t want to cry in front of Chi Yao. Or rather, exposing her inner vulnerability wasn’t easy for her.

Chi Yao seemed to notice this. He lowered the hand resting on the back of her head.

Then he reached up, pulling the scarf tighter around her neck, covering her eyes—eyes that looked as though they had been drenched in rain, like those of a frightened deer.

“Cry if you want,” he let go, his voice soft. “I won’t see it.”