Early the next morning, Zhou Leqi and Hou Zihao boarded a flight back to Beijing. Yan Lin didn’t go with them; he planned to stay behind to review the case files from seven years ago at the court. The three of them agreed to keep each other updated on any developments and created a WeChat group for easier communication.

Yan Lin set up the group, but he only had Zhou Leqi’s WeChat, so he added her first and asked her to add Hou Zihao.

After a moment of silence, she surprisingly said, “I don’t have his WeChat either.”

Yan Lin: …?

So how are you two dating? Is this still 2021? Are you relying on postal mail?

Hou Zihao felt a bit awkward under Yan Lin’s incredulous gaze, and at the same time, memories of their past together came flooding back. During her teenage years, Zhou Leqi didn’t like using social media because she wanted to avoid interacting with her former classmates. To accommodate her, he used SMS instead. But deep down, he always wanted to add her on QQ or WeChat because he wanted to see her posts and learn more about her life through her updates.

Now, seven years later, he wasn’t sure if that wish could come true, but he cautiously asked her, “…Shall we add each other?”

Upon hearing this, she glanced at him. Her beautiful eyes flickered with subtle emotions—perhaps a hint of nostalgia, but also a touch of pride.

“Alright,” she agreed and opened her QR code for him to scan.

In fact, he didn’t even need her QR code because her WeChat was still linked to her old phone number, which he had saved all along. A few years ago, when he was in the UK, he noticed her WeChat pop up in his contact list. Countless times, he had impulsively wanted to add her, but he repeatedly talked himself out of it.

And now, it seemed he finally had the chance.

He pretended to be calm and unaffected, though his heart was racing. At the same time, he couldn’t help but marvel at how easily she could still make his heart flutter just like before. He tried to maintain his composure while scanning her QR code with his phone.

She accepted his request right in front of him.

A “ding” sounded, indicating they were successfully added.

He subtly shifted his body to avoid Yan Lin’s line of sight and proceeded to type a familiar and intimate nickname in the remarks field:

“She.”

When they arrived at the airport waiting area, Hou Zihao kept hoping that Zhou Leqi would close her eyes and rest, giving him the chance to browse through her Moments—countless times he had wondered what her life had been like over the years. He was extremely curious about her experiences during that time.

But she didn’t sleep. Instead, she openly flipped through his Moments in front of him. His content was sparse—early posts were mainly academic papers related to medicine, and recently there were some news updates about Runyuan. There was hardly anything personal.

He found it somewhat exasperating that she showed no hesitation in browsing his Moments right in front of him, thinking that she really didn’t care what he thought. What annoyed him even more was that she actually frowned and complained, “Why is there nothing interesting to look at?”

He didn’t know how to respond to that, but he thought, Well, let’s see what kind of exciting life you’ve been leading. So he pulled out his phone and started flipping through her Moments right in front of her. However, as soon as he clicked on her profile picture, he saw the message: “Friends can only view the last three days of Moments.”

He: ?

Oh, this.

It felt like someone had dumped a bucket of cold water over his head. He felt both disappointed and a little suffocated. Unable to resist, he glanced at her. She looked completely unfazed and explained, “Everyone sets it to show only the last three days now. Otherwise, it’s easy to expose your privacy.”

He: “….”

There was a small incident when boarding the plane.

Since they had booked their tickets in a rush, their seats weren’t together. Both of them had window seats, but one was in the front and the other in the back.

Zhou Leqi was seated next to a middle-aged man she didn’t know. Hou Zihao offered to switch seats with the man so he could sit next to her. Initially reluctant to bother, the man hesitated. Hou Zihao glanced at Zhou Leqi and naturally explained to the man, “Sorry, my girlfriend is sitting here.”

That was a hard-to-refuse request, so the passenger reluctantly got up and exchanged seats with him.

He then sat down next to her. As he turned his head, he met her scrutinizing gaze. Startled, he heard her ask, “Who’s your girlfriend? We’ve already broken up, alright?”

Oh, this.

He was a bit stunned and caught off guard. After thinking for a moment, he cautiously reminded her, “But didn’t you tacitly agree to…?”

…let me kiss you that day?

He had thought that this was how adults reconcile.

But clearly, her thoughts were completely different. Her eyebrows were already slightly furrowed, and her smile carried a hint of sarcasm as she said, “So this is your idea? A breakup can be resolved with just a simple ‘sorry,’ and reconciliation only requires a drunken, confused kiss?”

“Hou Zihao, am I really so cheap in your eyes?”

The first half of her sentence was merely sarcastic banter, but the second half carried much heavier wording.

...Heavy enough that he didn’t dare to say another word.

Zhou Leqi seemed to have lost all interest in talking as well. She turned her head to look out the window, arms crossed over her chest, remaining silent—a clear sign of refusing communication.

He became even more flustered, suddenly realizing his absurdity and outrageousness. His guilt toward her was almost unbearable. Meanwhile, Zhou Leqi saw his downcast expression reflected in the window—looking like a large, well-behaved dog who had done something wrong and was now waiting to be scolded.

She gave an almost imperceptible smirk and then closed her eyes, continuing to maintain the low-pressure atmosphere.

The stifling silence persisted.

Hou Zihao sat restlessly, unable to get past this issue. He desperately wanted to open a dialogue with Zhou Leqi to explain that he absolutely did not mean any disrespect. However, she was clearly uncooperative, keeping her eyes closed and resting. After much deliberation, he decided he needed to find a way to start a conversation with her, or else the matter would cool off by the time they got off the plane.

Finding an opening was his specialty: seven years ago, when they first met, she had been just as cold towards him, sitting on the bus reading her vocabulary book and ignoring everyone. Later, he found a way to soften her heart. Now, revisiting his old tricks, his past experience still came in handy. He decided to ask the flight attendant to bring her a glass of juice, and then use this small act of kindness to win her over.

He quietly stood up from his seat. Not long after he left, Zhou Leqi opened her eyes. There was a slight mischievous glint in her eyes. As she glanced at his empty seat, she noticed his phone. After some thought, she reached for it, unlocked it smoothly, and opened his WeChat Moments.

His phone was in airplane mode, but his own Moments data was still there. As expected, many posts were marked “Only visible to me.”

July 25, 2014, 15:41: Congratulations.

The accompanying image was a screenshot from the official website of their high school showing her as the top scorer in the province that year.

...

September 1, 2014, 02:05: Have you arrived in Beijing?

No accompanying image.

...

October 17, 2015, 03:26: Zhou Leqi, I miss you very much.

No accompanying image.

...

March 30, 2016, 02:11: Are you with him?

No accompanying image.

...

January 3, 2019, 00:00: Happy Birthday.

The accompanying image was a birthday cake.

...

May 26, 2020, 04:01: Craving.

The accompanying image was a screenshot from Yu Qing’s food video showing spicy beef rolls. Surprisingly, half of her face was visible in the shot.

...

There were many, many posts.

Every year, there were a lot of them.

To be honest, Zhou Leqi wasn’t very surprised by this. She knew him too well and had guessed that he might do something like this. But even though she had anticipated it, seeing it firsthand still made her feel a bit emotional. At the same time, her heart softened more and more.

He really liked her.

And she felt the same way.

They liked each other so much that even after seven years of not seeing each other, they stubbornly believed in their feelings. Their love had become quieter, no longer as overtly expressed as during their teenage years.

...That was adult love.

Her emotions were still fluctuating when he returned with the juice for her, staring in disbelief as she browsed through his phone.

She hadn’t expected to be caught and had planned to sneak the phone back before he returned, so she was feeling quite guilty right now. However, she wasn’t about to show it, pretending nothing had happened as she continued scrolling through his phone. When he sat down with the juice and cautiously asked, “…What are you doing?”

She looked at him effortlessly and calmly replied, “Looking at your phone.”

After answering, she raised an eyebrow and countered, “Is that a problem?”

He probably didn’t expect her to be so bold, leaving him a bit stunned. For a moment, he simply nodded along with her, saying, “…No, no problem.”

After a while, he realized something was off and asked, “How did you know my phone password?”

Upon hearing the question, she looked up at him with a teasing expression, as if to say, What do you think?

He then realized that she had completely seen through him, leaving him with no privacy or control. This made him feel somewhat awkward, and at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel a subtle mix of embarrassment and frustration. This urged him to try to regain some ground with her, so he said, “Then let me see your phone too.”

Equal exchange, fair and just.

Unexpectedly, she flatly refused, “No.”

His brows immediately furrowed, “Why not? You’ve seen everything on mine.”

She paid no heed to his reasonable statement, continuing to scroll through his phone and casually countering, “What’s the situation now?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you planning to pursue me again?” she reminded him.

He touched his nose, “...Yes.”

“That settles it,” she shrugged, “I’m not planning to chase after you, so why should I show you my phone?”

...At first glance, it sounded logical, but upon further reflection, it made no sense at all.

He didn’t know what to say anymore, feeling both speechless and a little happy. Perhaps he really had no bottom line when it came to her, because despite everything, he actually felt a bit relieved. He thought he could consider himself lucky, since she seemed to no longer hold his earlier slip-up on the plane against him...

After leaving the airport, he offered to take her home. She frowned slightly, feeling a bit hesitant, thinking that once they were back in Beijing, their movements would likely be easily known to Yuan Jianxin. Wouldn’t it be better to keep their distance…?

He completely knew what she was thinking, but his opinion differed from hers. “There’s no need to keep our distance. He already knows.”

After a pause, he added, somewhat dissatisfied, “What’s the point of pretending we’re not close now? You should have listened to me when I advised you to leave the project team at SWD…”

Before he finished speaking, he met her disapproving gaze. The hateful servility caused the rest of his words to vanish. Awkwardly, he could only continue to gently offer to take her home, muttering softly, “Anyway, we can’t keep our distance anymore... If you ask me, being together every day is safer.”