Chapter Thirty: Nan Zhiyi

Early in the morning, Qin Xuan rose and rubbed his sides, still suffering from the marks left by Qin Lin’er and Liu Ruoxi’s pinches. The three of them went to an old noodle shop and had bowls of beef noodles; the spicy, steaming flavor drove away the chill of dawn. Before leaving, Qin Lin’er bought several steamed buns, munching as they walked, while Liu Ruoxi scolded her for eating like a pig.

The town was small, and they had seen most of it the day before. Following the signs, they headed to their final destination.

“Wishing Lake!” Qin Xuan exclaimed, but the little pond before them hardly deserved the name—a “Wishing Pool” would be more apt.

They had arrived early, so the place was deserted except for an old man cleaning the pool. Qin Xuan took a closer look and was startled—wasn’t this the same man again?

“Is this your place too?” Qin Xuan called out loudly, worried his voice wouldn’t carry.

The old man turned around, and sure enough, he was yesterday’s boatman, the owner of the spicy restaurant, and now, apparently, the caretaker of this wishing pool.

“Oh, it’s you! Up early, aren’t you?” The old man lifted a bucket filled with coins, which Qin Xuan, with his sharp eyes, noticed immediately. Impressive.

“If you want to make a wish, toss in a coin. I’m still cleaning,” the old man said, with no attempt to hide his intentions.

The three stood by the pool, speechless—even Qin Lin’er stopped eating her bun.

In the end, they grudgingly took out three coins and tossed them in. Before they even finished making their wishes, the old man swept the coins straight into his bucket.

Such wishes—perhaps it was better not to make them at all.

They sat on a bench nearby, gazing at the sun that had just begun to peek over the horizon. It looked to be another bright, clear day. With a sigh, they reflected that in summer they wished for coolness, while in winter they hoped for warmth. Here in Shudu, it only started to cool in November, then quickly shifted to winter in a matter of days. Qin Xuan had always found it unbelievable when he saw this online.

While the heat was still bearable, the three bade farewell to the old man, who had gathered several buckets of coins, and to the ancient town.

On the high-speed train home, Liu Ruoxi leaned against Qin Xuan’s shoulder, eyes half-closed, while Qin Lin’er happily browsed through the photos she had taken.

“Brother, look at this one.” Qin Lin’er thrust her phone in front of Qin Xuan.

“Huh? Oh my—!” Qin Xuan glanced at the screen and couldn’t look away. There he was, sleeping like a dead pig, with Qin Lin’er and Liu Ruoxi each hugging one of his arms, both making perfectly symmetrical peace signs.

Qin Lin’er scrolled further—there were photos of them pinching his cheeks, each girl pulling a side. No wonder he’d felt so exhausted upon waking!

Qin Lin’er was about to scroll even more when Qin Xuan reached out to snatch the phone, but she anticipated him, quickly hugging it to her chest.

She looked at Qin Xuan triumphantly. “What are you doing, huh?”

“Sis, can we make a deal?” Qin Xuan said, rubbing his hands together.

“Go on.”

“How about you delete those photos? I’ll buy you something tasty!”

“Sure, if you buy me ten... no, twenty bags of chips, I’ll delete them.”

So simple? Qin Xuan was suspicious, but agreed, “Alright, delete them first, and when we get back, I’ll buy them for you.”

“Deal.” Qin Lin’er deleted the photos right in front of him, then emptied the trash folder for good measure.

“All done! Don’t forget my chips,” she said, satisfied.

“Good girl,” Qin Xuan said, patting her head.

His gesture woke Liu Ruoxi, who rubbed her eyes.

“What are you two talking about?” she asked.

“Nothing much. Ruoxi, remember to send me yesterday’s photos,” Qin Lin’er suddenly said. Qin Xuan realized too late what she was planning.

“What?” Liu Ruoxi was momentarily confused, then understood. “Oh! Sure.”

Soon, Qin Lin’er’s phone was flooded with hundreds of photos.

“You—you—how did you take so many?!” Qin Lin’er exclaimed as she saved them.

“Wait—you cut me out and only kept the two of you? What’s that supposed to mean?” Qin Lin’er discovered a strange photo.

“Oh, that was a mistake—I’ll recall it,” Liu Ruoxi replied, utterly shameless.

“You dirty, shameless thing!” Qin Lin’er cursed, pointing at Liu Ruoxi’s nose.

Liu Ruoxi grabbed Qin Xuan as a shield. Qin Xuan couldn’t help but protest.

“You’re violating my portrait rights,” he said, pausing. “So, how about you send me a copy as well?”

Both Qin Lin’er and Liu Ruoxi looked at Qin Xuan, unimpressed.

“Never mind, let’s just print them and put them in the album when we get back,” Liu Ruoxi suggested.

“Good idea!” Qin Lin’er agreed enthusiastically. After all, no one else would see them; she could look at them every day and feel happy.

“What’s good about it?” Qin Xuan retorted, glaring at Qin Lin’er. “No chips for you!”

“Ah, brother!” Qin Lin’er pouted, clearly dissatisfied. Qin Xuan ignored her and picked up Liu Ruoxi’s phone to browse through the photos—he’d already given up, and Liu Ruoxi didn’t stop him.

After venting for a while, Qin Lin’er leaned over to look as well. She hadn’t taken as many photos as Liu Ruoxi, missing some of the funnier moments—a pity.

Time flew by, and by the time the three reached their door, it was nearly eleven. As soon as the door opened, Maru, their chubby cat, waddled in and meowed loudly.

Liu Ruoxi carefully selected more than a dozen photos to add to the album, then urged Qin Xuan to cook.

Qin Xuan opened the fridge, only to find some leftovers from yesterday—no, the day before. Fortunately, he hadn’t cooked much. After sniffing them to check, he decided they were still fine and whipped up another dish. The three managed to get through the meal.

In the afternoon, they headed to the library—after all, their grades included library reading time.

Qin Xuan carried his bag alone, looking so miserable that passersby couldn’t help but feel sympathy.

In the reading room, Qin Xuan set down his bag and went to the shelves for a book. Glancing up, he noticed a girl sitting in the corner, dressed in a white dress. Her beauty rivaled that of Liu Ruoxi and Qin Lin’er, but what drew his curiosity was her calm, natural aura—a quality Liu Ruoxi lacked, though it was similar to Qin Lin’er when she was quiet.

She read in silence. Usually, the library was crowded on weekends, but no one sat near her. Qin Xuan observed that everyone passing by seemed to deliberately walk softly, as if disturbing this serene scene was forbidden.

He watched for half a minute, then turned away. It was rude to stare.

Returning to his seat, he found Liu Ruoxi holding a stack of books, placing them gently on the table with a gossiping look.

“Nanzhiyi is here too!” she whispered.

Qin Xuan didn’t react at first, then remembered. “The top campus beauty?”

“Yeah, she’s in that corner. If you want to see, hurry up!” Liu Ruoxi teased him like a devil tempting a mortal.

“What’s there to see? It’s just a pretty shell,” Qin Xuan replied, unwilling to admit he’d already looked.

The three chose a spot by the window. Sunlight streamed onto their books. Liu Ruoxi occasionally reached out to catch the rays, while Qin Xuan and Qin Lin’er shared headphones, listening to music and flipping through their books.

Seeing the two almost leaning together, Liu Ruoxi punched Qin Xuan, and by the end of the afternoon, his hand was numb.

Nanzhiyi read for a long while, then stretched like a graceful, lazy cat. She packed up and left the room, passing behind Qin Xuan and his friends. She tilted her head to glance at them, her expression curious—but was it just curiosity?