Ning Shuang sent out a friend request, but the other side seemed busy and didn’t accept it right away. Ning Shuang wasn’t in any hurry.
As the deputy minister of the Student Union Disciplinary Department, he had countless tasks on his plate every day. He’d just finished registering the freshmen in their dorms when he got a message to pick up some documents from the academy. Without wasting a moment, Ning Shuang silenced his phone, pocketed it, and hurried off toward the academy.
A University covered a vast area. Taking the asphalt main road would have taken him at least ten minutes to reach the academy office. So at the fork in the road, Ning Shuang didn’t hesitate—he chose the Bamboo Grove Path instead.
The Qing Stone Slab Path he took had once been overgrown with weeds. Then a weird ghost story rumor started circulating, and students had trampled a path through it. Even after the school debunked the rumor, the path remained.
It had become a shortcut for students rushing to their 8 a.m. classes.
Maybe because it wound through the shady bamboo grove path, the breeze brushing his face carried no summer stuffiness—in fact, it held a faint chill. The path ran alongside a river, where the water rushed with a steady gurgle.
With classes starting for second-year students and above, and freshmen not taking this route, the surroundings were so quiet that only the rustle of wind through the leaves could be heard.
At the back of this bamboo grove loomed a dilapidated experimental building. Rumor had it that a student had once conducted an illegal experiment there, sparking a massive fire that killed several people and left the building a charred ruin. The school had simply left it that way as a warning to future students and faculty.
Cutting through here meant passing right in front of the building.
The dry bamboo leaves underfoot cracked and snapped with each step.
The experimental building was shrouded in the shadows of the tall trees behind it, giving it a desolate air. Ivy crawled over the crumbling walls, its leaves fluttering in the wind. The exposed sections of wall were blackened by smoke, and patches of mold clung to the surface like layered ghostly faces.
Ning Shuang couldn’t help recalling the ghost story rumor that had spread like wildfire last semester. It claimed that if you came here at midnight and counted the steps in front of the experimental building—normally twenty steps—but counted twenty-one, you could enter the building and trade a precious item to the Guardian God inside for one wish.
Never mind how outlandish that sounded. Just coming out here in the dead of night to count steps in front of an abandoned building where people had died? Talk about having too much time on your hands.
That was Ning Shuang’s wry thought.
He’d meant to quicken his pace and get away from there, but a gust carrying the faint fishy tang of the river made his nape suddenly sting, like an ant bite. Ning Shuang instinctively reached back to swat at it.
But he hit nothing.
He looked up at the sky. Bamboo branches crisscrossed overhead, and against the deep blue expanse, a flock of wild geese soared past.
Rubbing his nape, Ning Shuang tilted his head back as he walked forward. Not watching where he was going, he didn’t notice the person standing at the side of the path.
He crashed straight into a wave of chill. It seeped through his thin clothes into his skin, accompanied by a cold sandalwood fragrance like fresh snow blanketing ancient wood. A low grunt followed, and Ning Shuang’s ears twitched. He realized at once—he’d bumped into someone!
He steadied himself quickly and reached out to support the pedestrian he’d collided with, but the man dodged his hand immediately.
Books tumbled from the man’s grasp, and some papers scattered in the wind.
Startled by the impact, the man’s expression soured. He shot Ning Shuang a cold sidelong glare, then crouched to gather his fallen books.
Ning Shuang only caught a brief glimpse of the man’s profile, but that one look rooted him to the spot. Then he heard his own heart pounding like thunder.
It was a thrill—and a shock.
“It’s… it’s you.” Without thinking, Ning Shuang grabbed the man’s hand. This was the person he’d seen that night in the illusion. He couldn’t have been mistaken.
Ji Huaizhi’s brows furrowed tightly. His gaze on Ning Shuang was icy and distant. He brushed Ning Shuang’s hand away without a word and crouched to pick up his books one by one.
Only then did Ning Shuang snap out of it. He hurried to squat down and help gather the books.
Strands of the man’s long hair fell forward. The wind lifted them, brushing right across Ning Shuang’s fingertips as he picked up a book. Ning Shuang froze, his breath catching.
Flustered, he handed back the books and papers. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to.”
Ji Huaizhi glanced at him and tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “It’s fine.”
He took the books and turned to leave. Ning Shuang grabbed his sleeve. “Wait—you. Haven’t we met before?”
Ji Huaizhi’s eyelids lowered. He glanced at Ning Shuang’s hand on his sleeve, then met his eyes coolly. “No.”
Ning Shuang’s throat tightened, his fingers gripping harder. “No, that’s not right. Three days ago, at that residential building in the Old City District—weren’t you there?”
Even if it had been an illusion, Ning Shuang couldn’t have dreamed up someone he’d never seen. He trusted what he’d witnessed.
Ji Huaizhi’s brows knitted even tighter. In response to Ning Shuang’s question, he said coldly, “I’m a freshman. I only got off the high-speed rail and arrived at school today. I wasn’t in this city before that.”
Ning Shuang sensed the man’s growing impatience and realized his own rudeness. He released his grip at once. “Sorry, my mistake. I apologize.”
Ji Huaizhi’s gaze lingered on Ning Shuang’s face for a moment. Then he hugged his books to his chest and walked away.
Ning Shuang watched his retreating back and looked down at his own palm. Wasn’t it him?
But the scents on them were so similar, and that chill when their skin touched—it felt exactly the same.
“Hiss—” Before Ning Shuang could dwell on it further, another sharp sting flared at his nape. He rubbed it and glanced at the abandoned experimental building beside him, full of bewilderment, before leaving the area.
~~~
In the afternoon, Ning Shuang was sprawled on a bench under the club tent, catching a nap.
A bottle of ice-cold water suddenly appeared on the table in front of him.
He followed the hand upward and met a pair of sharp, handsome eyes. The man standing there had a slicked-back hairstyle that demanded perfect features, and he was decked out head to toe in expensive designer labels—a picture-perfect young noble.
“What are you doing here?” Ning Shuang picked up the water and took a sip after twisting off the cap.
Lu Yuyang plopped his butt down on the table. “You weren’t replying to my messages, so I had to come find you.”
Ning Shuang made a puzzled noise. “Huh?”
He pulled out his phone and saw the WeChat message Lu Yuyang had sent two hours ago, asking where he was.
“Sorry, sorry—I was swamped and didn’t check my phone.” Ning Shuang apologized quickly. “What did you need me for?”
Lu Yuyang crossed his arms candidly. “I fought with my dad again.”
Ning Shuang looked at him and scratched his cheek, tentatively suggesting, “Then… come to my place tonight?”
“Of course! Don’t worry, I’ll go late at night so I don’t run into your uncle and aunt.” Truth be told, Lu Yuyang couldn’t quite figure it out either. How could a couple of extreme introverts who barely talked to anyone have a son like Ning Shuang, who could chat up even a dog?
Ning Shuang waved it off. “No need. Just head back with me later—my parents went back to our hometown.”
Lu Yuyang was surprised. “Back to your hometown? So you’ll be living alone from now on?”
Ning Shuang shook his head. “We still have mortgage payments, right? My mom rented out one of the spare rooms, so now it’s just me and the tenant living there.”
“What about Ning Dundun? Did they take it back?” Lu Yuyang asked.
Ning Dundun was the golden retriever Ning Shuang had picked up at the market.
Ning Shuang replied, “It stayed here with me. My parents have never seen such an outgoing dog—they didn’t dare take it home.”
“Ah, got it…” Lu Yuyang nodded slowly. Right—Ning Shuang had mentioned his village was one where even the animals were socially anxious.
Ning Shuang clapped him on the shoulder. “So once I’m done here, we can head back together.”
Lu Yuyang glanced back at the sparse crowd by the school gate. “Aren’t you finished already?”
Ning Shuang said, “Not yet. In a bit, I’ve got to handle some things at the academic building, and then during evening self-study, I need to register the dorm rosters.”
Lu Yuyang’s eyes widened. He immediately vented on Ning Shuang’s behalf. “Has the Student Union lost its mind? Why are they dumping everything on you?”
Ning Shuang didn’t seem bothered at all. He even reassured him. “It’s fine—these are all little things. And honestly, I’m not that tired.”
Lu Yuyang gave him a thumbs-up in admiration. “Not gonna lie, impressive.”
Truthfully, Ning Shuang’s hustle was par for the course as far as Lu Yuyang was concerned.
He’d been a standout during military training, vied for class committee spots, rocketed to deputy minister in the Student Union Disciplinary Department in just one semester, snagged awards in multiple events at the sports meet, topped his major, and participated in pretty much every club and school activity he could. With his parents being introverts, he’d walk the dog after school sometimes, and he’d even pick up weekend gigs when he had free time…
His schedule was packed tighter than a can of sardines.
And most amazingly, Lu Yuyang had never heard Ning Shuang complain about being tired. He seemed like some tireless, bottomless-energy monster.
Not the nicest way to put it, but that’s the best word Lu Yuyang could dredge up from his limited vocabulary.
“Fine, then. I’ll hit the lounge and grab a spot to crash. Call me when you’re done.” Yawning, Lu Yuyang stretched lazily and headed toward the library.
“Sure thing!” Ning Shuang waved goodbye from behind him.
The sunset’s glow fell across Ning Shuang’s face, draping him in a veil of orange-gold light. The teaching building’s white walls took on a faint golden hue, while the banners downstairs billowed in the breeze—everything seemed to herald a perfect moment.
Soon, the lingering rays of sunset dipped below the horizon. An indigo curtain cloaked the orange-gold sky, lights flickered on in the teaching building, a chill wind rustled through the leaves, and nightfall crept in quietly.
By the time Ning Shuang finished registering the last two dorms, it was already around nine o’clock. He and Lu Yuyang just made the final bus home.
Seeing Ning Shuang glued to his phone after boarding, Lu Yuyang leaned over curiously. “What are you looking at?”
“Sigh.” Ning Shuang let out a long breath and explained, “Mom says the renter’s arriving tonight, but he still hasn’t accepted my friend request. No idea when he’s actually showing up.”
Lu Yuyang shrugged indifferently, spreading his hands. “What’s there to worry about? We’re heading home right now, aren’t we?”
“I’m just afraid he’ll get to the house, find it empty, and think we’re bad hosts,” Ning Shuang said, his brow furrowed with concern.
Lu Yuyang saw it differently. “That’s on him. You sent the request ages ago—he’s the one who hasn’t approved it.”
“You… have a point.” Comforted by Lu Yuyang’s words, Ning Shuang’s worries eased a bit.
Five stops later, the bus reached their neighborhood. Ning Shuang dashed to the front door. Fortunately, no lonely figure sat waiting for him.
He unlocked the door, and a golden retriever came bounding out, circling him excitedly, its tail wagging like a helicopter propeller.
“Dundun, Ning Dundun.” Ning Shuang crouched down to ruffle its head. Ning Dundun licked his hand enthusiastically from paw to fingertip.
Lu Yuyang strolled up to the door at a leisurely pace. “See? Told you the renter wasn’t here. You didn’t have to sprint like that.”
Ning Shuang tugged Ning Dundun’s collar, leading it back inside. “Can’t help it—I was worried.”
“Ning Dundun, back to your room.” Ning Shuang released its collar and shooed it inside.
Lu Yuyang grabbed two cans of cola from the fridge and followed Ning Shuang upstairs.
It was now nine-thirty at night, and the renter still hadn’t approved Ning Shuang’s WeChat friend request. Ning Shuang was starting to wonder if the agent had gotten the details wrong, but Lu Yuyang called him over to play games, so he let it slide for now.
Two minutes later, he habitually checked his phone and saw the request had finally gone through.
Ning Shuang scratched his head and sent a quick intro with his name.
The chat window immediately pinged with a new message—
【[Butterfly]: Hello, I’ve arrived.】
Ning Shuang: ?
He dropped his game controller like a hot potato and shot to his feet. Lu Yuyang, still playing beside him, looked up in confusion. “What’s up?”
Ning Shuang slipped on his slippers. “The renter just messaged—he’s here. I’m going down to let him in.”
“Want me to come?” Lu Yuyang paused the game and set his controller aside.
“You bring Ning Dundun down. I’ll head first.” Ning Shuang threw on a jacket and bolted downstairs.
He’d just reached the living room when a sharp sting prickled the back of his neck—exactly like the one earlier that day. He rubbed it, then opened the front door.
A gust of night wind rushed in.
Ning Shuang’s bangs fluttered aside, revealing eyes brighter than the stars overhead.
“Hello…” A rich, exotic fragrance wafted toward him. Ning Shuang’s greeting caught in his throat as time seemed to freeze in that instant.
A black suitcase stood beside the man at the door. He wore a simple white shirt under an ordinary trench coat, his long hair tousled by the wind. That same aloof face, that exceptional air.
“You?!” Ning Shuang recovered, his voice pitching higher with shock—and mostly delight.
Ji Huaizhi’s expression remained as calm as ever. “Hello,” he said flatly.
It was as if he didn’t recognize Ning Shuang at all.
Ning Shuang quickly stepped aside. “Come on in. Sorry, have you been waiting long?”
Ji Huaizhi glanced at the living room. “Five minutes and twenty-three seconds,” he replied matter-of-factly.
“Five minutes?! Why didn’t you knock?”
Ji Huaizhi took a seat on the sofa. “I did.”
“Oh?” Ning Shuang figured he’d missed it while gaming. “Sorry, I didn’t hear. Good thing you messaged me on WeChat.”
“I’m not angry.” At Ning Shuang’s apology, Ji Huaizhi offered the reassurance.
Relieved, Ning Shuang stood. “You must be tired from the trip. Let me get you some water.”
He headed to the kitchen. Just then, Lu Yuyang came down in slippers, towing Ning Dundun. “Ning Shuang, grab me another cola while you’re at it.”
“Sure.” Ning Shuang’s voice echoed from the kitchen.
Lu Yuyang plopped onto the sofa and locked eyes with the upright Ji Huaizhi. Those deep, enigmatic eyes made Lu Yuyang’s back stiffen—his instincts screamed that this guy was no ordinary person.
Ning Shuang returned quickly, handing a cola to Lu Yuyang and warm water to Ji Huaizhi.
“Drink this and relax for a bit. I’ll show you the room soon.” Ning Shuang sat across from him on the sofa, glancing around. “Where’s Ning Dundun?”
Lu Yuyang took a sip. “Didn’t it come down with me?”
Ning Shuang figured he’d better crate Ning Dundun—its usual exuberance might overwhelm the new renter. But the dog, normally a whirlwind around strangers, had vanished.
“Ning Dundun?” “Ning Dundun—” Ning Shuang called out. It finally shuffled out from a corner, tail tucked low, squatted by his feet, and nudged his leg halfheartedly—no trace of its usual energy.
“Hm? What’s wrong? Didn’t you just eat?” Ning Shuang petted its head. Ning Dundun looked up, tongue lolling, and stared at Ji Huaizhi.
Ning Shuang followed its gaze to those calm, profound eyes. Ji Huaizhi sat quietly opposite, watching either the dog—or Ning Shuang.
Their eyes met midair. Ji Huaizhi calmly looked away and began casually scanning the living room.
The house was spacious enough for two. The decor was straightforward: a large storage rack divided the dining area from the living room, laden with Ning Shuang’s certificates and trophies, family photos, and a snapshot with his buddy Lu Yuyang.
Ji Huaizhi’s gaze lingered a moment on that last one.
Ning Shuang was about to speak when Ji Huaizhi suddenly turned. “Where’s my room?”
For some reason, though Ji Huaizhi had looked fine upon entering, a shadow now clouded his face.
But Ning Shuang didn’t dwell on it. He jumped up. “Upstairs. I’ll take you there—you can rest soon.”
He grabbed the suitcase by the sofa, hefting it effortlessly. The muscles in his forearms flexed into perfect lines as he headed upstairs.
Ji Huaizhi rose, his peripheral glance brushing Lu Yuyang on the sofa before he followed.
Ji Huaizhi moved with elegant poise, his steps feather-light on the wooden stairs—not a creak.
Ning Shuang showed him to an empty room, spotless and neat, right next to his own with only a shared bathroom between.
“You’ll stay here from now on. It’s right by mine—if anything comes up, just knock.” Ning Shuang flicked on the light, illuminating the simple setup: a king-sized bed, wardrobe against one wall, desk by the window. No frills otherwise; Ji Huaizhi could add whatever he liked.
Ji Huaizhi required little for sleep—it was merely a bodily need. His rest had never faltered, not even amid venomous thickets in his youth.
“It’s fine,” Ji Huaizhi said with a nod after a quick look.
Ning Shuang hesitated, then backed toward the door, hand on the knob. “Message me on WeChat if you need anything. Get some rest.”
He slipped out and softly closed the door.
Ji Huaizhi stood still, hearing slippers padding downstairs, then Ning Shuang chatting with his friend.
“All done talking?”
“Yeah, covered everything.”
“Game time, then?”
“I’ll check on Dundun first—looked off, ignoring everyone.”
“Nah, seems fine to me. See? Back to its antics already.”
…
Ji Huaizhi approached the window, parting the curtains. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling glass stretched inky darkness, a slender moon hanging in the sky. He cracked it open; the night breeze toyed with his long hair, then let it fall. In the glass’s reflection, his deep eyes flickered with a faint violet gleam.
He had come here to find Ning Shuang, but he’d never expected him to truly forget.
It was foreseeable, yet Ji Huaizhi’s heart still twinged all the same.
