Wen Xia never imagined that a cat and a dog could achieve harmony at such a moment.
He discreetly turned his gaze back to Lin Fengqi, only to find Lin Fengqi looking at him as well.
Lin Fengqi’s eyes flickered slightly, and he softly called out, “Wen Xia…”
In his memory, Lin Fengqi rarely called him by his name in private. Even having a proper conversation was already a challenge for them back then.
The time he heard his name the most was during homework collection.
Class A was the top class, and every student who made it in was disciplined and hardworking. Even those who struggled with self-discipline at first would gradually improve in that environment. Each morning, students would place their completed homework on the desk of the first student in their group, and after the morning self-study session, the class representative would collect it. Homework was never incomplete.
Lin Fengqi had been the physics class representative for three years, and Wen Xia’s favorite thing to do was delay handing in his homework each morning.
During such moments, Wen Xia would sit at his desk, watching Lin Fengqi collect homework from the first group all the way to his own, and then stop at his group. After counting the exercise books, Lin Fengqi would look up.
“Wen Xia,” Lin Fengqi would accurately call out the name of the only student who hadn’t handed in their homework, “your homework.”
Then Wen Xia would pretend to be engrossed in his studies, feigning a busy demeanor as he picked up his exercise book and waved it around. “Here it is.”
Lin Fengqi would then walk over to his desk and personally collect the exercise book.
After this happened a few times, Lin Fengqi, being Wen Xia’s desk mate, would knock on Wen Xia’s desk each morning before collecting the homework. He wouldn’t say anything, but the message was clear: Hand in your homework.
Wen Xia would ignore the hint, waiting for Lin Fengqi to call his name and then walk over to collect it. This routine repeated itself, and Wen Xia found it endlessly amusing.
At the time, Wen Xia thought Lin Fengqi was just a stickler for rules. After all, his exercise book was always sitting on top of the pile of textbooks, in plain sight. Why didn’t Lin Fengqi just take it without asking? Why did he have to follow the formal procedure so rigidly?
But now, when Wen Xia thought back on those moments, his perspective had changed.
Because Lin Fengqi had mentioned this in his diary. He could see the exercise book clearly, and he knew he could easily pick it up himself, but he wanted an excuse to call Wen Xia’s name more often.
He wrote in his diary: Only this way can I call his name openly. I hope he doesn’t find me annoying.
How could I find you annoying?
In fact, I couldn’t have hoped for anything better.
Wen Xia gazed at him in a daze. Seeing that Wen Xia seemed distracted, Lin Fengqi wasn’t sure what he was thinking. But maintaining this position wasn’t good for either his knees on the hard floor or his heart.
“Wen Xia,” Lin Fengqi spoke stiffly, “could you get up?”
Wen Xia snapped out of his thoughts, hesitated for a moment, then quickly sat up, rubbing his sore knees. He turned his face away from Lin Fengqi, trying to let the warmth in his cheeks fade.
Seeing them sit up, A Moo and Wen Da Ge both snuggled into their respective owners’ laps, seeking affection. Wen Xia petted Wen Da Ge’s soft fur and held him up in front of A Moo.
This time, A Moo just buried his head in Lin Fengqi’s arms, clearly dodging Wen Da Ge but not as fearful as before. It was Wen Da Ge who playfully smacked A Moo with his paw, meowing loudly.
But overall, the cat and dog seemed to have reached a certain level of peace during the intense and exciting game of chasing the duck.
After a few rounds, A Moo and Wen Da Ge established a balance.
In a fight, A Moo couldn’t beat Wen Da Ge; in playing with toys, Wen Da Ge couldn’t outplay A Moo. The large dog had endless energy, while Wen Da Ge would tire out sooner.
When Wen Da Ge was exhausted, he’d lie on the coffee table, watching A Moo run back and forth, occasionally pouncing on the big black dog’s tail when it wasn’t paying attention. A Moo would then instinctively turn around to chase him, but hesitate, eventually retreating to snuggle in his dad’s arms for comfort.
An hour and a half passed—neither too fast nor too slow—and some chaos ensued, but nothing serious happened. At least there were no incidents of a cat scratching someone or a dog biting someone and causing any bleeding.
Suddenly, Wen Xia remembered something and glanced at Lin Fengqi’s wrist. Since both had been playing with the pets and worked up a bit of sweat, Lin Fengqi had rolled up his sleeves a bit, revealing the two bite marks left by Wen Da Ge. The wounds had already scabbed over.
Noticing Wen Xia’s gaze, Lin Fengqi calmly pulled down his sleeve, covering the wounds.
“Why are you covering them? It’s not like I haven’t seen them before,” Wen Xia said.
Lin Fengqi was silent for a moment before saying, “It’s already healed.”
He didn’t say this because he thought Wen Xia was concerned and wanted to reassure him, but because he didn’t want Wen Xia to feel guilty seeing the wound. After all, it was Wen Xia’s cat that had bitten him.
Wen Xia thought about the timing and asked, “Isn’t it time for your second shot?”
Lin Fengqi hummed in agreement.
“Going tomorrow?”
Actually, today was the day.
He was on a five-shot rabies vaccine schedule: one shot on the day of the bite, then on the third, seventh, fourteenth, and twenty-eighth days. Today was the third day.
But he hadn’t gone today. He had forgotten because he wanted to see Wen Xia.
Lin Fengqi rarely forgot scheduled tasks or disrupted his plans. But when it came to Wen Xia, plans always seemed to change.
Now that Wen Xia had brought it up, he could only nod in agreement.
Wen Xia, remembering the band-aids he used that day, felt like teasing him. “By the way, those band-aids you used were pretty cute. Are they yours?”
Lin Fengqi froze, and his voice suddenly became hesitant and ambiguous, letting out a noncommittal sound, “Mm…”
“Got any more? Give me a few,” Wen Xia said.
“Did you get hurt?”
“No,” Wen Xia noticed the momentary tension in Lin Fengqi’s eyes and felt a bit smug but kept it hidden, “Just in case. Any cat owner gets scratched from time to time.”
Lin Fengqi hesitated before saying, “I’ve used them all up.”
“Ah, okay then. I’ll go buy some tomorrow.”
“…Do you really need that kind? Do you like them?” Lin Fengqi asked cautiously.
“What? Can’t I?” Wen Xia responded righteously. “Boys are supposed to like cute things!”
Lin Fengqi stared at him, and then something seemed to melt in his eyes, like a stream slowly flowing under the thawing ice of a long winter.
He gazed deeply at Wen Xia and responded with a low “Mm.”
“Alright, it’s 9:30 now. Is ‘parent-child bonding time’ over?” Wen Xia asked, glancing at the clock.
Lin Fengqi followed his gaze to the clock and, after a few seconds, nodded.
Why did the time pass so quickly…
He thought with a bit of disappointment.
They each returned to their rooms. Back in his own room, Lin Fengqi first pulled out the bound “Pet Friendship Plan” and found today’s date. Next to the time slot from 8:00 to 9:30 PM, he noted:
Wen Da Ge and A Moo’s relationship improved.
My relationship with Wen Xia also improved. We talked a lot.
Relatively successful.
After making the notes, he paused for a moment, then stood up and walked to his bookshelf. He pulled out an old diary. This was his diary from elementary school, documenting his first to fourth-grade experiences.
Elementary school didn’t hold many fond memories for him. He hated going to school as a child because it meant facing the taunts and jeers of his classmates.
During his childhood, before any family troubles arose, his family was like any other ordinary one. His parents had stable jobs, and while they weren’t wealthy, they had enough to eat and wear, and they managed to support four elderly relatives.
Back then, like many boys, he liked robots, mechas, toy cars, and so on. But he also liked things that were more typically associated with girls, like cute stuffed animals and cartoon stickers. Sometimes when he went out with his parents, the neighbors would see the cartoon plush he was holding and make some teasing comments.
“Oh, Feng’s mom, you bought another stuffed toy for him? I see boys playing with things like transformers. Why do you keep getting him girly things?”
“It’s not a big deal. Look at Old Li’s grandson—he’s so naughty. Feng here is much better, like a little girl. He’s never noisy or troublesome, and he’s such a relief for adults.”
Adults’ words were often only partially understood by children, who couldn’t always grasp the implications. But Lin Fengqi could sense from his parents’ reactions that they didn’t like what the neighbors said.
Ye Shixue would always tell him, “Don’t worry about what they say, son. If you like something, just tell us. As long as we can afford it, we’ll get it for you.”
But it wasn’t just the chatty adults who found him strange.
Once, his father brought home a cute keychain that he thought his son would like, so he bought it on a whim. Lin Fengqi did like it and immediately hung it on his backpack.
He didn’t think anything of it. To him, the keychain was no different from the other toys in his room, so the next day, he went to school with the keychain dangling from his backpack.
Children have a natural observational ability, perhaps due to their curiosity about the world. They often notice differences around them instantly, like the new keychain on Lin Fengqi’s backpack.
“Hahaha, look at this! Lin Fengqi has a girl’s keychain on his bag!”
“My little sister has one of those too! Only girls like that kind of thing!”
“Eww—”
…
Lin Fengqi never told his parents about what happened at school. He just took the keychain off his backpack that day, put it in the toy storage box, and never took it out again.
His quiet nature may have started around that time.
He enjoyed studying but didn’t like going to school. What kept him going to school was the interesting lessons and the chance to learn new things.
This vicious cycle continued for four years until he graduated from elementary school.
Later, when he outgrew those toys, the school organized a charity event to collect old items for donation to children in rural areas. He donated some old clothes along with the toys.
Not long after, a sudden change in his family turned his life upside down. Forget toys—there was a time when even putting food on the table was a struggle.
After that, he became even more reserved. His status as a student receiving financial aid added a new layer of discomfort to how his classmates viewed him.
He once overheard some students talking about him: “Do you think Lin Fengqi is faking it? He’s so smart and always gets scholarships. Why does he still need financial aid?”
Lin Fengqi never explained himself.
Maybe he was holding something in, silently determined not to justify anything. After all, he hadn’t done anything wrong. Why should he expose himself and let others judge him?
And so it continued into high school. He still faced some gossip, but high school was better than elementary or middle school. He made friends, and at least many people approached him with good intentions.
Then he met Wen Xia.
Wen Xia came from an enviably privileged background. Lin Fengqi had known wealthy classmates in middle school, but one of them had been the most hostile towards him. Wen Xia, on the other hand, was the complete opposite—sunny, open, kind, and straightforward. He never judged anyone based on their appearance or family background. Wherever Wen Xia went, his friends would follow. He shone like a star in a crowd, and no matter how far away, Lin Fengqi could always spot him.
After Wen Xia joined Class A in their second year, Lin Fengqi overheard some students making unkind remarks about him. Wen Xia, with his long legs, casually tripped the boy who was so focused on talking to his friends that he didn’t see the floor, sending him sprawling.
“What the hell, Wen Xia, are you crazy?!” the boy shouted angrily as he got up.
“Who’s really the crazy one here?” Wen Xia leaned lazily back in his chair, not even bothering to withdraw his leg. In fact, he arrogantly propped it up on the empty desk in front of him, blocking the aisle. “You’re a grown man with perfectly straight teeth, but your mouth never stops running. I think you should stop coming to school. With how badly you just fell on your face, you might as well start over from scratch.”
A lot of the class was watching. The boy knew he couldn’t afford to mess with Wen Xia, so he gritted his teeth, his face dark with anger, and started to leave.
“Where are you going?” Wen Xia called after him. “What about an apology?”
“Apologize to your mother!”
“Apologize,” Wen Xia pointed at the empty seat next to him, which belonged to Lin Fengqi, “you know how to apologize, right?”
The boy’s face turned red and white in quick succession. He spat out “Crazy!” and stomped back to his seat, kicking his desk hard enough to make a loud bang.
Wen Xia snorted and pulled his leg back, then grabbed a tissue to wipe down the bench where his shoe had rested.
Meanwhile, Lin Fengqi, who had been about to enter the classroom, had stopped at the door and witnessed the entire scene, which lasted less than a minute.
He watched as Wen Xia bent down to wipe the bench, mumbling to himself. But he was too far away to hear what he was saying. Once the bench was clean, a smile appeared on Wen Xia’s clean face, looking quite pleased with his handiwork.
People are easily healed by the smallest things.
Like a ray of sunlight, a breeze, or a flower… Maybe it’s just because the sun came out today, or because you helped someone on the road and got a thank you.
And for Lin Fengqi, Wen Xia was always a source of healing.
Whether it was the smile after wiping the bench back then or the casual comment about cute band-aids now—
Both could help him make peace with some small past wounds in an instant.
Lin Fengqi ran his fingertips over the handwriting of his younger self. After a moment, he smiled, closed the diary, and firmly put it back in its place.
That night, it rained lightly again, and by morning, the sky was still overcast. Wen Xia wasn’t woken by his alarm but by the little robot. After returning to his room last night, he had tinkered with Xiao Wu for a while. Although its AI system was lacking in some areas, features like reminders and sleep aids worked surprisingly well. The only real issue was trying to have a conversation with it outside its designated tasks.
Before bed, he remembered he had forgotten to ask Lin Fengqi about the “five failed gift attempts,” but he figured even if he asked, Lin Fengqi would just change the subject, so he decided to leave it alone for now.
“Good morning, Wen Xia,” Xiao Wu greeted him, following at his feet.
“Good morning.”
Oh, right—there was one more feature that didn’t work too well: the weather forecast.
For example—
“Today is October 21st. The weather is clear with a high of 39°C and a low of 5°C. There’s a big temperature difference between day and night, so remember to dress appropriately!”
Wen Xia, brushing his teeth, was baffled. “?”
Seriously?
He checked the weather on his phone: light rain today, northerly wind at 3 on the Beaufort scale, temperatures between 11°C and 13°C.
Wen Xia: “…”
What kind of weather forecast is this?
Wen Xia: “That was a great forecast. Maybe don’t do it next time.”
Xiao Wu responded, “I am a robot, and I can’t hug you (embarrassed).”
Wen Xia: “…”
He opened the door to leave, just as Lin Fengqi was coming out of the room next door.
They exchanged glances, and Lin Fengqi spoke first. “Morning.”
“Morning,” Wen Xia replied.
Lin Fengqi looked at him for a couple of seconds, then suddenly turned back into his room.
Wen Xia was a bit puzzled and moved closer just as Lin Fengqi returned, this time with a few band-aids in hand. “Here.” Even though he was giving something, his tone was as stiff as if he were issuing a command.
Wen Xia raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you say you didn’t have any?”
“I was mistaken,” Lin Fengqi said coolly, “I found them by accident.”
Wen Xia gave him a meaningful look. Lin Fengqi pressed his lips together, adding, “Don’t get the wrong idea.”
“Wrong idea about what?” Wen Xia said slowly, “That you went out of your way to find them for me, or that you lied about not having any?”
Lin Fengqi opened his mouth but seemed at a loss for words.
Wen Xia looked at him with a curious expression.
After a moment, Lin Fengqi looked away, his ears slightly red, and stiffly asked, “Do you want breakfast?”
He’s so easy to tease.
Wen Xia put the band-aids in his pocket. “Sure.”
As they left, Wen Xia grabbed a bag of snacks he had packed up the day before. Lin Fengqi glanced at it, and Wen Xia explained, “I’m taking them to the studio.”
They went down to the parking lot together. Wen Xia followed behind Lin Fengqi silently, but the plastic bag in his hand wasn’t so cooperative, rustling loudly with each step.
When they passed Wen Xia’s car and the rustling continued, Lin Fengqi stopped and turned around, puzzled.
“Why’d you stop? Let’s go,” Wen Xia said.
“Your car’s back there.”
“Oh, I’m not driving today. I’ll trouble you, Mr. Lin, to give me a ride.”
Lin Fengqi was secretly pleased. He would love to drive Wen Xia to and from work every day, but he didn’t want to show his excitement. “Why?”
“Saves gas,” Wen Xia replied. “Money’s a bit tight lately.”
“…”
There were two routes to Lin Fengqi’s company. One was his usual route, with fewer traffic lights; the other had more traffic lights but passed by Wen Xia’s studio. Both routes took about the same time.
Lin Fengqi nodded coolly, his tone calm. “Get in.”
Wen Xia casually opened the back door of Lin Fengqi’s car, placed the bag of snacks inside, and then just as casually got into the passenger seat and buckled his seatbelt.
All in one smooth motion.
The road was slick from the night’s rain, and it started drizzling again halfway through the drive.
Wen Xia looked out the window at the rain and softly muttered, “I didn’t bring an umbrella.”
He said it quietly, almost like he was mumbling to himself.
Lin Fengqi’s eyes flickered, but he didn’t respond.
When they arrived at the studio, Wen Xia slowly unbuckled his seatbelt, deliberately taking his time getting out of the car. Sure enough, Lin Fengqi couldn’t stay silent any longer.
“When do you finish work?” he asked, as if conducting an investigation.
“Six o’clock.”
Wen Xia didn’t bother asking why he wanted to know and replied directly, “Mr. Lin, any other questions?”
“…No.”
“Okay then.”
Just as Wen Xia was about to open the door, Lin Fengqi called out, “Wait.”
He paused, signaling he was all ears.
Lin Fengqi hesitated before asking, “Will you be on time?”
“That depends,” Wen Xia replied. “I’m the boss. If I want to leave early, I leave early. If I want to stay late, I stay late. No one can tell me what to do, right?”
“…”
“Anything else, Mr. Lin? Might as well ask now.”
Lin Fengqi remained silent for a long moment before squeezing out, “No.”
“Then I’m leaving?”
“…”
“I’m really going now.”
Seeing that Lin Fengqi seemed about to say something, Wen Xia didn’t wait any longer. He quickly opened the door and slipped out like a fish.
As the door closed, Lin Fengqi was left with the words “I’ll pick you up in the afternoon” stuck in his throat, neither able to swallow them nor spit them out. He felt frustrated, wishing he could have just said it directly.
Wen Xia didn’t seem upset, did he? He didn’t look upset…
Next time.
Next time, I’ll definitely try to say it directly.
Wen Xia realized he had left his snacks in the car only after entering the studio.
Oh well, it doesn’t matter.
But Liu Feisi was clearly disappointed. He enthusiastically ran up to Wen Xia, circled him once, then pouted, “Boss, where are the snacks you promised?”
Wen Xia answered without a hint of guilt, “Forgot.”
“Wah—”
“Stop whining and get to work.”
Today’s schedule was packed. The demo version of End of the Line was going live next week, so they had to test and refine it while continuing to develop the remaining content.
By the end of the day, everyone was exhausted.
The rain had been on and off all day, finally stopping in the evening.
“Boss, aren’t you leaving?” It was the end of the workday, and the team was packing up. Liu Feisi noticed that Wen Xia was still sitting at his computer, not moving.
“You guys go ahead,” Wen Xia replied.
“If you’re working late, we can stay and help,” A Deng offered. “We’ll get it done faster together.”
“No need, I’m not working late. I’m just resting for a bit. You all head home, and be careful on the way,” Wen Xia said.
One by one, the team left. The studio was the only occupied office on this floor, so after they left, the place felt eerily quiet and empty.
Wen Xia checked his phone—no new messages.
He turned his chair around and looked out the floor-to-ceiling window. Apart from seeing Liu Feisi and the others parting ways downstairs, there was no sign of anything else, especially not Lin Fengqi’s car.
Hmm, is he coming or not?
He turned back to his desk, bored, and played Minesweeper for a while. When that got old, he opened up 4399 and searched for Gold Miner.
Mining is more fun.
The sky outside grew darker, not from the gloomy clouds but from the encroaching night.
Wen Xia was starting to feel sleepy from waiting. He checked his phone again—still no notifications. Annoyance crept in.
Did I misunderstand? Was Lin Fengqi asking all those questions just for future reference, not planning to pick me up today?
Lin Fengqi, you better pull yourself together.
Don’t blow your chance when you get it.
The more Wen Xia thought about it, the more frustrated he became. His concentration wavered, and soon enough, the in-game miner grabbed three dynamite barrels in a row, blowing up and ending the game without enough gold.
Damn it.
Mining is so hard.
This is no fun.
Wen Xia clicked his tongue in annoyance and closed the browser.
The computer clock ticked from 6:59 to 7:00 PM.
He frowned, ready to shut down the computer, when he suddenly heard footsteps in the quiet hallway.
At first, he thought he was imagining things, so he stopped what he was doing. Then the footsteps grew louder, clearly approaching the studio, steady but with a hint of urgency.
His heart raced a little, and he got up from his chair.
The footsteps drew nearer and finally stopped right outside.
Lin Fengqi paused at the door.
By now, the heavy night had swallowed the lingering clouds, and the studio lights made it as bright as day inside.
Wen Xia opened his mouth and blurted out, “I thought you weren’t coming.”
Lin Fengqi was startled, and Wen Xia quickly corrected himself, “No, I mean… I mistook you for someone else. What brings you here?”
Lin Fengqi was even more confused. Mistook him for someone else? What did that mean?
“I thought you weren’t coming”… So the person who was supposed to be here wasn’t me? Wen Xia was waiting for someone? Who?
Liao Xingchen? Or Fang Huai?
He stood there silently, lost in thought, and Wen Xia called his name again.
Lin Fengqi snapped out of it, but his expression still seemed a bit lost. He nervously licked his lips, his hand on the door frame tightening into a fist. “You… didn’t bring an umbrella.”
“…”
Wen Xia swore this was his least favorite sentence of the year.
He said, expressionless, “I didn’t bring an umbrella, so you’re worried I didn’t bring an umbrella? Is that it?” A useless repetition of yesterday’s conversation.
“No,” Lin Fengqi panicked at Wen Xia’s irritated tone, and in his haste, his words tumbled out without thinking, “And you didn’t drive.”
“Right, so you’re also worried I didn’t drive?”
“…”
Lin Fengqi frowned in frustration, taking a shallow breath. “No, it’s not that either.”
Wen Xia watched him quietly, clearly annoyed but still patient.
“Then what are you here for?” Wen Xia asked, slowing his speech, emphasizing each word.
Lin Fengqi pressed his lips together in silence, then suddenly stepped inside.
Wen Xia remained where he was, standing behind his desk.
Lin Fengqi walked closer, stopping in front of the desk. His expression was as cool as ever, but his eyes cautiously studied Wen Xia’s reaction, like a child about to apologize for doing something wrong.
“I came to… pick you up,” he finally said, his voice carrying a hint of nervousness. After a brief pause, he repeated more softly, “Wen Xia, I came to take you home.”
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