11. Admission

Pei Huan led Lu Yinghuai to a snack street near the school. It was getting late, and there were no longer many students from their school around. The few who passed by in identical uniforms glanced at the two walking together, their eyes shifting from initial shock and bewilderment to excitement and gossip. It wasn’t hard to imagine the stories they were already inventing in their minds.

“Is there anything you’d like to eat?” Pei Huan asked.

Lu Yinghuai had never been here before. He replied calmly, “You decide. I’m not picky.”

Since he left it to her, Pei Huan brought him to a stir-fried rice noodle stall. After asking about his preferences, she ordered skillfully for both of them. The vendor took their order, swept his eyes between them, and teased, “Boyfriend?”

“No, just a friend. He helped me out a lot today,” Pei Huan replied with a smile.

After ordering, they found a place to sit. Pei Huan, worried Lu Yinghuai might mind the small, slightly grimy table, pulled a tissue from the dispenser and carefully wiped the surface. Lu Yinghuai noticed but didn’t say anything.

“Do you come here often?” Lu Yinghuai asked, breaking the silence.

“Yes. When I don’t feel like eating in the cafeteria, I come with Tang Yue and the others,” Pei Huan replied casually.

After that, the two lapsed into silence again. Pei Huan sipped her tea, then found another topic to keep the conversation going.

“You really haven’t been here before?” she asked, curious.

“No,” Lu Yinghuai shook his head.

He usually either ate lunch in the cafeteria or skipped it altogether, grabbing something simple at home in the evening.

Hearing this, Pei Huan shook her head immediately, “You can’t skip lunch. If you don’t eat, you’ll be hungry all afternoon.”

“It doesn’t matter if I miss a meal,” he replied, his tone indifferent.

“How can it not matter? You think it’s just about skipping one meal?” Pei Huan began her lecture. “It’s not just today. If you keep doing this, your stomach won’t thank you for it.”

Lu Yinghuai lowered his eyes, listening quietly as she rambled on with her well-meaning advice.

No one had ever cared about his daily life. When he was younger, the family servants would look after him, but as he grew older, he no longer wanted them involved. He became independent, and his parents’ concern was so rare it was hardly worth mentioning—they didn’t even bother to pretend.

At first, he’d felt disappointed, injuring or making himself sick just to earn a sliver of their attention. Yet, after their repeated indifference, he saw through their facade and stopped those pointless efforts.

When had he stopped caring? He couldn’t remember. It must have been a long time ago.

All his painstaking efforts ended up as nothing more than water poured into a woven basket—gone without a trace.

Now, as Pei Huan chattered beside him, her words full of concern, Lu Yinghuai remained silent, but his heart felt as if it were being gently wrapped in warmth, and a faint, inexplicable joy bloomed inside him.

After her long lecture, Pei Huan took a sip of water to moisten her throat. She looked at the silent Lu Yinghuai and asked, “I talked so much—did you listen to any of it?”

“I did,” he replied simply.

“Good,” Pei Huan said, satisfied.

Their noodles were served quickly. Pei Huan, starved, broke apart her chopsticks and began eating right away. Lu Yinghuai ate with more elegance, but they finished almost at the same time. Pei Huan drank her tea, her expression utterly content.

“I know a place that sells amazing grilled cold noodles. Want to try?” Pei Huan asked.

“Yes,” Lu Yinghuai replied.

On the way to the stall, Pei Huan seemed to remember something. She glanced at Lu Yinghuai and asked, “Are you angry?”

She didn’t need to explain; Lu Yinghuai already knew what she meant. After a moment of silence, he answered, “Yes.”

This surprised Pei Huan. She had expected him to deny it or avoid the question, not to admit it so directly.

“Because I contacted everyone else, but not you?” she pressed.

“Yes,” he confirmed.

Pei Huan found this a bit amusing and studied him for a few seconds. Lu Yinghuai seemed unfazed by her scrutiny, walking on with an expressionless face.

“I still want to know why,” Pei Huan said.

Lu Yinghuai pressed his lips together before replying, “You’re friends with them, but you’re not friends with me?”

“I am,” Pei Huan answered without hesitation.

“Then why didn’t you message me?” he asked again.

Instead of replying, Pei Huan narrowed her eyes at him mischievously, making his scalp tingle under her gaze.

“So can I take this as you being jealous?” she teased with a laugh.

“…Suit yourself,” Lu Yinghuai muttered, then strode ahead.

Pei Huan kept up, laughing at him, joking that his aloof persona had completely collapsed in front of her. Lu Yinghuai merely shot her a cold look and let her talk.

After buying the grilled cold noodles, they ate as they walked. Lu Yinghuai finished first and tossed his bowl into a nearby trash can, thinking they could call it a night and he’d walk her home. But then, unexpectedly, they ran into someone familiar.

Lu Feng saw Lu Yinghuai in this lively place and could hardly believe his eyes. He had never seen his brother somewhere so vibrant and bustling.

“Brother?” Lu Feng called uncertainly.

Lu Yinghuai glanced at him by way of greeting. Pei Huan, seeing that they knew each other, quickly stepped aside to give them privacy.

“Is something wrong?” Lu Yinghuai asked first.

“Brother, that girl you’re with…” Lu Feng hesitated.

Lu Yinghuai glanced at Pei Huan in the distance before replying, “That’s none of your business.”

“But if Aunt finds out, she’ll be angry,” Lu Feng said, visibly nervous about their mother’s temper.

Lu Yinghuai’s expression was almost wooden. “Whatever I do has nothing to do with her.”

He severed the topic cleanly. Lu Feng wanted to say more but held back. He exchanged a few more words with Lu Yinghuai before joining his own friends and leaving. He glanced back at the two figures standing together, his gaze complicated.

Lu Yinghuai and that girl were worlds apart.

“Shall we go?” Pei Huan asked.

“Yes.” Lu Yinghuai nodded.

On the way home, Pei Huan chatted idly with Lu Yinghuai, her topics meandering wherever her thoughts led. Most of the time, Lu Yinghuai remained silent, occasionally echoing her words.

The little road at night was quiet and still, with few passersby. The orange-yellow streetlights spilled down from above, stretching their shadows long and thin. October’s evening breeze had grown noticeably cooler.

They walked together through the tranquil streets, talking about nothing and everything. Lu Yinghuai glanced at Pei Huan, who was speaking with a smile, and the look in his eyes softened.

At her doorstep, Pei Huan reminded him, “Be careful on your way home. Send me a message when you get in so I know you’re safe.”

“I will,” Lu Yinghuai promised.

“Then, goodnight.” Pei Huan waved.

Watching Lu Yinghuai’s figure fade into the distance, Pei Huan finally turned and went inside. She ran into Pei Yan coming downstairs for a drink. He glanced at her and asked, “Where did you go? Why are you back so late?”

Pei Huan recounted the afternoon’s events. Once Pei Yan heard it all, his surprise quickly turned into exasperation.

“You couldn’t message me?” Pei Yan was speechless.

“I just forgot,” Pei Huan replied sheepishly.

“So, how did it get resolved in the end?” Pei Yan pressed, growing impatient.

“My classmate brought the security guard to open the door,” Pei Huan explained quickly.

“Which classmate?” Pei Yan looked at her with a slightly imposing gaze. “Lu Yinghuai?”

“Yeah,” Pei Huan admitted.

“So you’d rather message him than tell your own brother?” Pei Yan was incredulous.

“I didn’t actually tell him either,” Pei Huan added quietly.

Pei Yan nearly lost his temper, filled his glass, and went straight upstairs without another word.

Pei Huan watched him go, then headed to her own room. Sitting at her desk, she couldn’t help recalling the moment Lu Yinghuai had walked toward her earlier that day. It wasn’t particularly poetic, but in that instant, she’d clearly heard the rapid thumping of her own heart.

It was a strange feeling—she’d never liked anyone before, never felt her heart skip a beat. But that moment, as her heart pounded like a drum, Pei Huan realized for the first time what it was to be moved by someone.

It was a peculiar sensation, but not one she disliked.

The girls at school always said Lu Yinghuai was handsome. She had never thought so—not even during the month they’d sat together. But tonight, as he walked toward her, each step steady and resolute, each one seemed to land squarely on her heart, leaving her momentarily stunned and unable to react.

Still, she caught the flicker of worry in his eyes, which only faded when he saw she was unharmed.

Sitting at her desk, Pei Huan replayed the scene in her mind. Each replay made her heart race anew.

But perhaps it was just a fleeting feeling. She’d never liked anyone before and always claimed she had no interest in boys, so she didn’t dwell on it.

Maybe, with time, she’d become immune to such things.

That’s what Pei Huan told herself.