SY - 55

Streetlights illuminated both sides of the road, and the basketball court nearby also cast a dazzling light.

He Hanyang wasn’t addicted to cigarettes and didn’t really smoke.

Even during his most rebellious years—fighting, skipping classes, getting tattoos—he never touched cigarettes.

His grandmother coughed and couldn’t stand the smell of smoke. Even after training at the club, he would specifically take a shower and change his clothes before going home.

Most of his teammates smoked a bit, especially during all-night training sessions.

“It keeps you awake and alert, relieves worries and fatigue,” they’d say.

Ximei would occasionally offer him one, but He Hanyang always waved it off.

He never believed that emotions could be vented by smoking.

But now, he squatted by the roadside, chain-smoking.

The ashtray in the nearby trash can was full of burnt-out and crushed cigarette butts.

His usually deep eyes were now red from the smoke, and he bit hard on the cigarette filter, coughing as he smoked.

Bullshit, relieving what worries? He was almost done with a pack of cigarettes, but he still hadn’t forgotten anything.

After leaving the drinking gathering, He Hanyang suddenly didn’t know where to go.

To facilitate training, team members usually stayed directly at the club and only went home on weekends.

If he went back now, his grandmother would definitely worry.

He wasn’t good at lying.

It was autumn, and it got dark quickly.

He Hanyang drove aimlessly and ended up near Song Zhi’s home.

Xia Wanyue had told him the address.

Because she was worried that He Hanyang, a big, rough man, couldn’t take care of that delicate little kitten, Xia Wanyue would ask about the cat’s well-being once a week.

Fortunately, the cat was well taken care of.

Although he lived a rough life himself, he was meticulously attentive to the cat.

He Hanyang would initially reply to her messages on time and occasionally even proactively send her messages, though without text, just photos of the cat.

Later, she unintentionally let slip that Song Zhi no longer lived with her.

From then on, He Hanyang not only stopped sending her messages but even his replies became sporadic.

Xia Wanyue was fully aware and naturally knew the reason for his sudden change.

To make him report on the cat’s condition once a week, she “sold out” Song Zhi—she sent him her home address.

The night wind grew stronger, and occasionally raindrops fell, landing directly on the burning tip of the cigarette. The tiny flame was extinguished, leaving only a wisp of white smoke floating in the air.

He suddenly began to regret it.

He should have gone home.

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At least he wouldn’t have seen that scene just now.

At the very least, he could have continued to deceive himself.

He really liked her, liked her so much, so much.

Liked her so much that even if she had shown a hint of resistance to Jiang Yanzhou’s hug just now, he would have disregarded ethics and morality to snatch her away.

He wouldn’t care if he had to bear the bad name of being a homewrecker in the future.

As long as she showed even a hint of resistance.

But there was none.

The rain fell heavier, yet he seemed oblivious, still squatting by the roadside.

Rainwater clung to his long eyelashes, then dripped down.

His black hoodie was soaked through.

The cashier girl in the convenience store had been watching him for a long time, ever since he came in looking dejected and casually bought a pack of cigarettes.

And now, he was squatting by the roadside, lost in thought.

Although she didn’t know what had happened, people always tended to feel more sympathy for good-looking individuals.

She pushed open the glass door, went out with an umbrella, and carefully shielded him: “This rain probably won’t stop anytime soon. Do you want to come in and sit for a while?”

The man didn’t speak, remaining in his previous posture, completely motionless.

She wasn’t in a hurry. Anyway, there were no customers now, and she didn’t mind staying with him a little longer.

________________________________________

Song Zhi was truly exasperated with Song Luo. Halfway through cooking, he discovered they were out of vinegar and insisted she go out to buy it in the pouring rain.

She held her umbrella and answered the phone, her tone impatient: “Can’t you just say everything at once? Besides vinegar, what else?”

“Rice? Are you out of your mind? How am I supposed to carry such a big bag?”

Song Zhi cursed as she hung up the phone. She knew the rain was pouring so heavily, she should have changed her shoes. The sheepskin soles were completely ruined from the water.

Feeling sorry for her newly bought shoes, she walked to the entrance of the convenience store.

The cashier girl, seeing someone approach, put the umbrella down by the roadside.

These young couples nowadays were truly affectionate; they were even willing to squat in the rain just to wait for their girlfriends to get off work.

After sighing with emotion, Song Zhi suddenly felt that the squatting young man looked familiar.

She took a step back. In the dim light of the night, she could barely make out the man’s profile.

A high nose bridge, delicate brow bones, a familiar outline.

She hesitantly called out, “He Hanyang?”

The man, who had been silent throughout, finally showed a slight reaction. He gently looked up, completely soaked. His face was indistinguishable between tears and rainwater, only his eyes were red.

The He Hanyang who usually acted as if nothing mattered even if the sky fell, now resembled an abandoned stray cat, squatting by the roadside.

Song Zhi’s brows furrowed deeper. She held her umbrella and walked over: “What’s wrong?”

He Hanyang looked at her, his Adam’s apple bobbing, his eyes completely bloodshot.

His vocal cords, severely eroded by smoke, were terribly hoarse.

“Jiejie.” He must have just cried, his voice still choked.

The cashier girl’s heart skipped a beat.

She felt... an inexplicable contrast in cuteness.

She bit her lip, looking at Song Zhi, who was wearing a black baseball cap, feeling a pang of jealousy.

She had stayed with him for so long, and he hadn’t said a word.

But the moment this woman arrived, he seemed to have transformed.

Song Zhi’s brows furrowed deeper. She raised a hand to his forehead; it was very hot.

“Why don’t you go inside and get out of the rain?”

He shook his head: “I forgot.”

“You can forget that?”

Speechless.

She handed him the umbrella in her hand: “You hold this for a bit, wait for me outside. I’ll be out after I buy the vinegar.”

Song Luo had only said he wanted vinegar, and didn’t specify which brand.

She casually picked a bottle, completely forgetting that he had also said he needed to buy rice later.

When she went to the checkout, she saw the candies on the counter and thought of He Hanyang, crying outside.

She grabbed a box casually.