[Revealing the same adorable little fang as in his youth.]

The breakfast was Western-style: hot milk with cereal, croissants, and bacon.

By the time they sat down at the table, Zhou Leqi had already wiped away her tears. They ate facing each other in silence. Then she glanced at the open kitchen and noticed a half-used bottle of soy sauce on the counter, which reminded her of the shadow she had seen in Chinatown a month ago.

She paused for a moment before asking him, “Do you often go to Chinatown?”

He looked up at her, unsure why she was asking, but nodded nonetheless.

After a brief silence, she asked again, “Did you go there a month ago? On March 17th?”

He furrowed his brows, struggling to recall, then nodded after a while, saying, “I think so—why do you ask?”

She didn’t respond, just smiled faintly, already tinged with a sense of desolation.

With these few exchanges breaking the ice, their conversation gradually became more natural. That simple breakfast ended up lasting two hours, during which they discussed quite a bit about what had happened over the past few years.

She told him that she had eventually enrolled in Tsinghua’s School of Economics and Management and was now working in investment banking. This trip to Italy was for business.

He said, “Oh,” then told her that he had ultimately pursued medicine, completing an MB/PhD program, and had just graduated.

She could tell he had gone into medicine. The way he had reset her bone last night was highly professional and skillful, and he was clearly familiar with hospitals.

She asked, “Did you study in Italy?”

“No,” he shook his head. “In the UK, at Oxford.”

This caught her by surprise. She raised an eyebrow and asked, “Then why are you in Rome?... And how do you know Italian?”

He seemed very familiar with Italy.

“I had an Italian roommate during my studies abroad. I only know some basic phrases,” he smiled. “I’m just here on vacation. I’ll leave in a few days.”

This answer surprised her once again.

Seven years was a long time apart, leaving vast gaps in her understanding of him. She disliked this unfamiliarity and felt even more disoriented by the realization that he was merely here on vacation and would soon leave—meaning they had almost missed each other yet again.

Suddenly, she didn’t know what to say.

Silence.

She regained her voice a minute later, calming herself before asking a more crucial question.

“What are your plans next?” She looked straight at him, her focus sharp as if probing for an answer. “Where do you plan to work?”

Would he return to China?

She didn’t explicitly mention the word “return,” hesitating for some reason. Even so, his eyelids lowered again. A mature man had become adept at controlling the rhythm of conversations, easily extricating himself from verbal dilemmas. He replied, “I haven’t decided yet. We’ll see.”

Cold and distant, it was clear he didn’t want to elaborate.

She sensed this resistance, her eyes dimming slightly. At the same time, she dared not ask the most critical question between them:

What exactly is our relationship now?

After the meal, the rain stopped, but the sky remained overcast. Hou Zihao cleared the table, then took Zhou Leqi to the police station.

Italy’s security had always been problematic, especially with many conflicts escalating under the pandemic. Robberies targeting Chinese people were not uncommon. They didn’t hold much hope of catching the thief or recovering the lost items, but they needed to report her stolen passport; otherwise, Zhou Leqi wouldn’t be able to apply for a travel certificate at the embassy.

At the local police station, Hou Zihao handled everything. All Zhou Leqi had to do was sign documents as he instructed or nod and shake her head at the Italian policemen, understanding nothing of what they said in Italian.

Since she was in a wheelchair and couldn’t move easily, he took care of all the procedures for her. Before he left, Zhou Leqi asked if she could borrow his phone.

“I need to call my mom,” she said, “and also my colleague to let him know.”

He nodded without a word and handed her the phone. When Zhou Leqi asked for the unlock code, he hesitated for a moment, his expression subtly odd, then silently took the phone back, unlocked it, and handed it to her.

He didn’t want to share his phone’s password with her.

Zhou Leqi’s heart ached slightly again.

He left with the police, and she sat in a corner of the police station, holding his phone to make calls. First, she called Yu Qing, not wanting to worry her, so she didn’t mention being robbed or injured. She simply said her phone was lost and she was borrowing someone else’s, promising to buy a new one soon and stay in touch.

Upon hearing about her lost phone, Yu Qing naturally grew worried, repeatedly reminding her to be cautious abroad, pay attention to epidemic prevention, and rest well, covering every aspect.

Zhou Leqi listened silently but was somewhat distracted, her thoughts still lingering on Hou Zihao. She wanted to tell Yu Qing that she had seen him. After all, there was no one else she could share this news with. But in the end, she swallowed her words, unsure why she hadn’t spoken.

After hanging up, her heart remained empty. She looked down at his phone as if staring at a wide-open secret.

…A secret she couldn’t resist peeking into.

His screen saver was the default system image, and there were few apps. She didn’t know what to look at, her gaze lingering on the photo album icon and then on WeChat. Her finger almost hovered over them, but ultimately, she couldn’t bring herself to click.

Damn conscience.

She took a deep breath, trying to dispel the intrusive thoughts, and obediently returned to the dialing interface, intending to call Zeng Ruihong. However, the argument they had last night made their relationship tense, so calling him probably wasn’t appropriate. After some thought, Zhou Leqi decided to call Pei Qiming instead.

On one hand, she needed to inform him about the unexpected situation delaying her return to China. On the other hand, she needed to ask how to proceed with the project after Zeng Ruihong’s departure.

She began entering Pei Qiming’s phone number.

After entering just four digits, an auto-suggestion popped up from the contact list—

“Her.”

A single Chinese character.

A simple yet deeply evocative character.

But it left Zhou Leqi feeling dazed again.

Upon closer inspection, she realized that the number listed under “Her” was her own.

She hadn’t changed her phone number in seven years.

When she first started university, various companies would come to campus during orientation season to sell SIM cards. Living in Beijing, it would have been convenient to get a local number. But she had never changed hers, continuing to use the old one. On reflection, it wasn’t just laziness—deep down, she harbored a faint hope that one day he might try to reach her again.

Of course, she had never received a call from him. Yet… he still had her number saved.

If it weren’t for the coincidence that her number shared the same first few digits as Pei Qiming’s, she would never have discovered this.

This unexpected revelation quickened her heartbeat and sparked a bold idea.

She glanced around and saw that Hou Zihao hadn’t returned yet. A daring thought began to take shape in her mind. She stared at the side button of the phone for several seconds before finally pressing it with a gambler’s resolve. When the screen lit up again, facial recognition failed, bringing up the password input interface.

She realized she was starting to feel nervous, her fingers trembling slightly.

But she still tried entering—

9-5-0-1-0-3.

Her birthday.

Ding.

The phone unlocked successfully.

Her nose suddenly stung with emotion.

It felt like surviving a catastrophe.

By the time Hou Zihao returned with the completed lost passport report, Zhou Leqi had already composed herself and was on a call.

“Yes, I’m fine, nothing serious… Don’t worry…”

“Simon? He’s a bit emotional… No, he didn’t offend me…”

“No, no, you don’t need to come to Italy. I’m fine, just delaying my return by a few days…”

“Yes, the expedited travel certificate will take two days… Right…”

“Okay, I’ll contact you if anything comes up… Pei Qiming, you really don’t need to come. By the time you arrive, I’ll already be back…”

She spoke at length, not noticing his return. The mention of that familiar name caused a subtle shift in his expression. He coughed instinctively, drawing her attention.

Zhou Leqi noticed him and gestured an apology. She continued speaking into the phone: “I’ll hang up now and contact you later—really, don’t come.”

After the other party seemed to add something, a faint smile appeared in her eyes before she ended the call.

Hou Zihao’s expression grew even more inscrutable.

Zhou Leqi turned off the phone and handed it back to him, glancing at the paper documents in his hand. Her mood had lightened considerably.

She didn’t mention her discovery in his phone, instead asking naturally, “Oh, so can we go to the embassy now?”

Though she wasn’t smiling, there was an inexplicable ease in her demeanor that made Hou Zihao sense her good mood.

Why?

Because she had spoken to that person? Because that person said they would come to Italy to pick her up?

Hou Zihao lowered his eyes, his expression tinged with an indescribable gloom.

But he masked it well, responding smoothly with a curt “Yes,” then pushed her wheelchair out of the police station. Outside, the weather had unexpectedly turned sunny again. The warm spring sunlight of late April bathed them in pleasant rays. He accompanied her through the procedures at the Chinese embassy for the travel certificate. By the time they finished, it was afternoon.

She wasn’t tired and seemed full of energy. Even seated in the wheelchair, her eyes carried a gentle smile. She even asked him, “Do you know Rome well?”

In contrast, his mood had remained low throughout. He maintained polite conversation with her but was sparing with his words, replying indifferently, “Well enough.”

She didn’t mind, still basking in the bright sunshine and her good spirits, looking around at the ancient, picturesque streets of Rome like a carefree tourist. She even suggested, “Let’s go play? It’s not every day we’re in Rome—we can’t just stay cooped up indoors.”

His brows furrowed. Standing beside her, he glanced at her left foot, still splinted, and disapprovingly said, “Your injury needs proper rest. It’s not wise to run around everywhere.”

It was a response tinged with emotion.

But she remained unfazed, still smiling warmly. Her fair skin glowed beautifully in the bright sunlight, almost radiant.

She smiled at him, her eyes crescent moons, revealing the same adorable little fang from their youth. She even reached out to hold his hand, gently shaking it and saying, “But I want to go… Let’s go, okay?”