At the foyer where light and shadow intersected.

"Hello, Zhang Yan, we meet again." Liu Qingning spoke first.

Her voice was soft, with a slight upward lilt at the end, like wind through a wind chime.

It was completely different from the sudden oppressive feeling back in the Xuanji Optical World meeting room last time.

The woman before her seemed to have reverted to the image Zhang Yan remembered.

The high school girl who was always favored by the sun, who smiled with crescent-shaped eyes.

Zhang Yan's eyelashes trembled violently, "Y-you... hello, Liu..."

Her lips quivered; she had no idea what to call her.

Call her "Boss Liu"?

In such a personal setting, that would be overly formal and almost absurd.

But if she called her "Qing Ning" directly?

She felt she had no right to.

"Just call me Qing Ning." Liu Qingning saw her embarrassment, pursed her lips slightly, and tried to soften her tone, "That day at the company was so rushed, we didn't get to talk more, and then you were gone."

Zhang Yan instinctively apologized, "S-sorry."

Liu Qingning paused, a flicker of surprise in her eyes, "You didn't do anything wrong, you don't need to apologize."

Zhang Yan didn't know how to respond.

She kept her head down, not daring to look at those bright, dazzling eyes.

The little burst of "Super Saiyan"-level courage she'd gathered in the hallway deflated like a balloon pricked by a needle, disappearing in an instant.

An odd quiet spread by the door.

So quiet it made them clumsy with unease.

"Aren't you going to invite us in, Qing Ning?" Wen Ruan timed her interruption to break the stalemate. She waved the large deep-blue package in her hand, teasing with a smile, "This thing is heavy, you know."

Only then did Liu Qingning flinch back to reality and step aside to make room, "Sorry, welcome. Wen Ruan, Zhang Yan, come on in, let's talk inside."

The three of them entered.

Thud—

The heavy door closed behind them.

The living room was spacious.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling window, the sea of Shencheng Bay lay open; the whole area felt bright and cozy.

Liu Qingning's gaze landed on the large package in Wen Ruan's hands. "Is this the birthday gift for Tang Song?"

"Mm, yes." Wen Ruan nodded, carefully supporting the base, "It's rather big. We need a wide, safe place to put it down so it doesn't get bumped."

Liu Qingning pointed toward the end of the corridor, "Put it in the second room on the right. That used to be Su Yu's studio; it has plenty of space and display racks."

"Okay." Wen Ruan replied.

Before she turned, she gave Zhang Yan a long look, her eyes full of both reassurance and encouragement.

"You two talk first. I'll go put it down and tweak it a bit so it looks nicer."

With that she strode down the corridor as if she knew the route by heart.

Her footsteps faded away.

Until they disappeared completely.

Only two people remained in the living room.

Quiet enough to hear each other's breathing.

Zhang Yan stood stiffly like a student awaiting punishment, frozen in place and not daring to sit down casually.

Liu Qingning looked at her and felt an inexplicable tightness in her chest.

"Let's sit and talk," she tried to make her voice sound casual, "What would you like to drink? I have juice, milk, and..."

"No, I'm not thirsty." Zhang Yan's voice was very soft.

"Then I'll get you a cup of warm water."

"Thank you."

They sat down on the sofa.

Liu Qingning handed her a cup and took one for herself.

Only at that moment did she suddenly realize that her palms were sweaty.

She was nervous.

She was afraid.

Facing this girl who kept her head lowered and wouldn't even look her in the eye, she felt an unprecedented pressure.

She was an intensely rational person.

Used to deconstructing the world with logic, finding optimal solutions with algorithms. She never avoided problems; she faced them head-on and solved them.

But in her emotional logic system, the Zhang Yan in front of her was an unsolvable bug.

Liu Qingning knew very clearly what she cared about most.

It was that pure emotion accumulated since youth, without any mixture of personal gain.

It was her greatest trump card and pride, the foundation supporting her feelings for Tang Song.

But Zhang Yan possessed that same thing.

Between Zhang Yan and Tang Song there had been the innocent companionship of being desk-mates in middle school, and countless little moments she didn't know about.

More importantly, there had been the silent bond that shadowed him for more than a decade.

From middle school, high school, university, all the way to the Imperial Capital.

Even in the years when Liu Qingning was absent, Zhang Yan had always been there.

Watching silently.

Liking silently.

Keeping vigil silently.

Even if Tang Song didn't know she existed, she stubbornly persisted.

That feeling was so pure it was almost unbearable, and so humble it was pitiable.

No man could remain indifferent to such devotion.

Because she knew Tang Song so well, Liu Qingning understood better than anyone else how this humble, secret affection would shake Little Song's heart.

Her significance to Tang Song was probably similar to Tang Song's significance to Zhang Yan.

And because of that, Tang Song could fully empathize with Zhang Yan.

Liu Qingning had run countless simulations in her head.

If things had developed along a normal script, ignoring Tang Song's extraordinary luck and achievements,

Zhang Yan, this "fated rival," could indeed, through memories, reality, or even the future, completely defeat her.

So she was afraid.

Afraid that Zhang Yan's existence would replace her position in Tang Song's heart.

Afraid that the years she had missed would be filled by someone else in another way.

That's why she was so eager to meet her.

Only by facing her fear, by putting all variables on the table, could she rebuild her emotional model,

and find a way for her and Zhang Yan to coexist in this crowded love triangle.

Liu Qingning held her cup and looked at the girl across from her.

"We should actually be more familiar than the surface shows, right? We've met before, many times."

Zhang Yan still kept her head down, bangs covering half her face; only the slight tremor of her lashes was visible.

Several seconds passed before she made an extremely quiet nasal sound, "...Yes."

"You're more introverted than I imagined."

"I..."

"If I'm not mistaken, the first time we met was the winter of our first year. Outside the Yizhong cafeteria. Tang Song introduced you to me as his middle-school deskmate. Actually, I remembered you from then."

At those words, Zhang Yan's clear apricot-shaped eyes filled with embarrassment and an undefinable emotion.

It was like some secret had been pierced, or like someone dredged an object long sunk in memory to the surface.

She hadn't expected

Liu Qingning to remember so clearly.

Late December 2013, a winter dusk.

The high school in Jing County had a half-month vacation system; you only got two days off every two weeks.

That day was the return-to-school day for first-year high school students.

It was also the weekend closest to the next holiday, which happened to be Tang Song's birthday.

Since middle school graduation and Tang Song enrolling at Yizhong while she went to Erzhong, she completely lost contact.

She was so poor she couldn't even afford a second-hand basic phone. Occasionally on weekends, she'd use her aunt's computer to log into QQ and stare at that gray avatar.

But once she started high school, that avatar never lit up again.

Three months into school, longing grew like wild grass.

She finally couldn't contain herself and, daring for the first time, secretly boarded the bus to Yizhong.

She didn't dare go to his classroom; she wandered the campus like a headless fly.

In the end, she hid at an inconspicuous corner outside Cafeteria One at dinner time and waited stupidly.

The wind was bitter, freezing her face stiff.

She rehearsed a thousand lines in her head.

She wanted to ask if he had a new QQ number, could he add her?

She wanted to ask if the food at Yizhong's cafeteria was good.

She wanted to ask whether high school physics was hard, whether he would choose arts or sciences.

Then the sunset dyed the campus a brilliant golden.

She finally found him in the bustling crowd.

He wore a slightly oversized Yizhong jacket, tall and thin, carrying two thermoses, tilting his head as he talked to the girl beside him.

That girl wore a fine down jacket with a high ponytail; her smile was utterly adorable.

It was from then on she learned the name "Liu Qingning."

Zhang Yan slowly lifted her head.

Looking at this girl who seemed to have stepped out of her memories, "I-I heard about you from then, too."

"Really? Then what was I like in your eyes?"

Zhang Yan lowered her lashes and twined her fingers unconsciously, "Outstanding, beautiful, extremely, extremely impressive... Many people at our Erzhong liked you, some even made a fan forum for you."

"Heh." Liu Qingning's tone was frank and a little self-mocking, "I was pretty... well, popular back then. I guess I was used to attention since I was little. So my personality might not be as gentle or reserved as yours. If I left any bad impressions before..."

"N-no!" Zhang Yan immediately shook her head, hastily refuting, fearing a misunderstanding, "I know you're a good person."

She believed that without thinking.

How could a girl who had been cherished and loved by Tang Song for so long be anything but good?

Liu Qingning smiled, her tone relaxing, "In high school, what I hated most was that fan forum."

Zhang Yan blinked, puzzled, "You hated it?"

"Mm." Liu Qingning pursed her lips, a girlish complaint, "It was full of surreptitious photos, every possible angle. They photographed me eating, walking, even running in gym class with my hair flying, looking awful, and then they pinned that photo to the top. I was so angry I couldn't eat properly for three days."

Zhang Yan's lips moved as if to say something, but only formed a shallow curve.

"By the way." Liu Qingning suddenly asked, "You picked arts in high school, right?"

Zhang Yan's ears reddened, "Yes. Physics was too hard; I couldn't learn it."

"Physics is hard." Liu Qingning nodded in sympathy, "In middle school physics it's mostly sound, light, heat—memorize formulas and you pass. But in high school it becomes celestial motion, Newton's laws, complex vector calculations; the concepts get so much more abstract. A lot of people hadn't transitioned their logical thinking since middle school and got stunned on the spot. That's totally normal."

Zhang Yan kept her head down, voice small, "You're very good. Your physics was nearly perfect and... you didn't have to study much... really impressive."

"Hehe." Liu Qingning smiled, "I'll tell you a secret: I actually studied very hard. I had pride; when people were around I'd pretend not to study to seem effortless. But privately I worked harder than anyone, secretly studying on weekends. Tang Song never knew that."

"Ah?" Zhang Yan gaped in disbelief.

Back in high school, Liu Qingning had indeed been a big name.

There wasn't much talk of "campus belle" then, but Liu Qingning seemed to be the most dazzling presence at Yizhong.

She had heard many of the rumors.

That she slept in class yet still got first; that she never took notes yet got perfect scores...

"Even geniuses have to study to learn." Liu Qingning relaxed further, "Arts subjects are more about accumulation and comprehension, right? You study Chinese language and literature, you must know."

The topic flowed naturally from the headaches of science versus arts, the taste differences between the two schools' cafeterias, and the old campus buildings, to university majors, to the romance of Chinese literature versus the dryness of computer algorithms, to the Imperial Capital's subway, to Liu Qingning's chaotic early days of entrepreneurship...

She spoke, laughed, gestured exaggeratedly at times, and lowered her lashes thoughtfully at others.

Zhang Yan sat beside her, from initial stiffness gradually easing.

She watched the girl who had always shone flawlessly in her memory.

For the first time, she saw her vividly as a three-dimensional person.

It turned out Liu Qingning could be troubled by hard problems, make mistakes, feel regret, feel jealousy, feel fear, and feel remorse.

The suffocating sense of "too dazzling to look at" quietly dissolved in this peaceful conversation.

Outside the sky darkened.

On Shencheng Bay the evening glow faded bit by bit, distant lights began to come on one by one.

The water in the cups, at some point, had already been finished.

Liu Qingning suddenly asked, "In the Imperial Capital, I met you twice. Then you must have been trying to get in touch with Tang Song, right?"

Zhang Yan panicked and fell silent for a long time, "Yes, but... by that time... he didn't really remember me, so..."

Because she repeated a year studying for high school, she was one class behind Tang Song, and by his senior year he was already interning and working in the Imperial Capital.

When she reached her senior year, she found that Tang Song, after a year in the Imperial Capital, had not become her partner.

At that moment something in her loosened.

Not gloating.

But an indescribable little thought.

She mustered the courage to live in the same neighborhood where he was, watching him every day at the same subway exit.

Several times she wanted to rush forward and greet him.

But each time she retreated at the last moment.

And the friend who had passed her notes, played Gomoku with her, brought her walnut milk—he didn't remember her.

Even when she was right next to him on the subway, he couldn't recall her.

Then she lost her job.

The education industry slumped, the company laid people off, she stood bewildered in a basement with only meager severance, not knowing where to go next.

At that moment, her father arrived.

The father who had rarely cared suddenly appeared in the Imperial Capital claiming he would arrange blind dates for her.

The guy he found was also from Jing County, working in the Imperial Capital; his family offered a two-hundred-thousand dowry.

Her father forced her, said many hurtful things, called her useless and cursed her for wasting her university education.

She felt then that the whole world had abandoned her.

She was like a falling leaf, blown wherever the wind took her, with no one caring where she wanted to land.

In the end she dragged her suitcase and fled the Imperial Capital, going to Yangcheng where her mother lived, seeking some warmth.

"Actually, he didn't forget you."

Liu Qingning's voice snapped Zhang Yan out of those gray memories.

Zhang Yan tentatively lifted her head.

"You probably noticed," Liu Qingning chose her words carefully, "that the Tang Song you saw—the one familiar, imagined, and known to you—is somewhat different."

Zhang Yan's pupils trembled, "...Very different. But also... also like..."

"There are things I can't fully explain," Liu Qingning looked out at the gathering dusk, "But you can think of it this way: back then he was in a special state. He subconsciously filtered out many things, including... himself. The him now is the complete him."

Zhang Yan didn't fully understand, but a vague understanding flickered through her.

It was as if a thin veil of mist had been gently lifted from over her.

"Zhang Yan, may I ask you a few questions?"

"Ask." Zhang Yan sat up straighter, fingers still nervously twisting.

"You liked Tang Song since middle school, right?"

This time Zhang Yan did not immediately bow her head.

She was silent for a moment, then nodded lightly, "Yes. At first it wasn't exactly love; just seeing him every day at school made me very happy. After we separated, the feeling gradually became real and heavy. Liking him became as natural as breathing. It didn't need reminding or effort; it just existed and became a habit."

"You reunited with him in Yangcheng. I heard from Su Yu about the Dragon Ball incident."

"Mm."

"If..." Liu Qingning stared into her eyes, "If when you sent that letter he didn't realize it was you and didn't end up with you, what would you do next? Would you let him go and begin a new relationship and life?"

Zhang Yan bit her lip, her eyes reddening.

When she gathered the Dragon Balls and wrote that letter, she was already twenty-six.

People her age were starting to marry, some even had children.

Her life was changing dramatically—she might need a new job, might need to move cities; the future was hazy.

So she wanted, while there was still time, to say those things she'd stored up for over a decade that felt like they would burst her heart.

She didn't expect Tang Song to know her, remember her, or respond.

She only wanted to say it.

Like finishing a ritual.

Like giving herself an explanation.

But if she really said it?

If she spoke and it sank without trace, then what?

Would she be able to let go?

Let go of that boy in her memories.

Let go of the figure she had chased for over ten years.

Try to like someone else, start a new life?

Zhang Yan was silent for a very long time.

Long enough that the night outside fully enveloped the living room, distant lights casting blurred reflections on the glass.

Then she lifted her head.

For the first time she met Liu Qingning's gaze without evasion.

Her delicate face no longer sought approval, no longer showed timidity, no longer offered any of the habitual expressions she used to guard herself.

Instead there was an unprecedented seriousness and openness.

"I wouldn't."

Liu Qingning watched her and exhaled slowly.

She dropped her head; a few stray hairs fell and hid the complex emotion in her eyes.

"I understand."

So, in the end, we would still collide.

She stood, reached out her hand, "Then let's properly reintroduce ourselves. I'm Liu Qingning. Glad to have you as a friend."

Zhang Yan hurriedly rose, looked at the offered hand, hesitated for a moment, then took it carefully and solemnly.

Her palm was icy and still damp with sweat.

"Zhang Yan. Please, take care of me."

Liu Qingning smiled and withdrew her hand, eyes flicking to the wall clock in the corner of the living room.

"Oh!" She lightly slapped her forehead, her tone brightening, "We talked so much I almost forgot the main thing. That guy will be back before seven."

"Let's decorate the place together! Cake, candles, ambient lamps... I prepared everything in advance. Many hands make light work; I'll go call Wen Ruan—she's tall and strong, good for heavy lifting."

She tugged Zhang Yan's sleeve naturally, signaling her to follow as they walked toward the studio.

Just as the two reached the studio door, it opened from the inside and Wen Ruan came out carrying an empty cardboard box.

Moments later, the previously quiet large flat burst into lively activity.

"Yanyan, don't put that balloon there! The color clashes with the sofa; move it a bit to the left!"

"Oh, oh, okay, is this spot fine?"

"Perfect!"

"Qing Ning, what flavor cake did you order? Why does it look so green?"

"That's pistachio matcha mousse! Tang Song used to like that slightly tea-fragrant dessert."

"Hah, didn't expect him to like green, haha~"

...

A black Rolls-Royce cut through the brilliant lights of Shen City.

Tang Song leaned against the back seat, watching the swiftly passing streets, a subtle smile tugging at his mouth.

Every gift he received today carried thought and warmth, and that made him feel warm inside.

But more vivid than static gifts were the givers.

Like Shen Yuyan.

That big campus belle really knew how to create a stir.

She had even written "Happy Birthday" on her thigh with lipstick in advance,

and with close friend Xu Qing joining remotely,

the birthday would have more unexpected fun.

Then again, there were still a few wings in Shen City he hadn't tended to.

A big sister, a faux socialite, even a movie star—

they were probably all waiting for him.

Especially Wen Ruan; she hadn't given her gift yet, nor even said "Happy Birthday."

That unusual silence meant she probably had a big move planned for tonight.

He would have to appease her; it might be a real task for his back.

Facing this Korean-comic-bodied, fitness-savvy big sister, even his current stamina wouldn't make it easy.

But what of that—he was a hanger-on.

Swipe! The system interface opened before his eyes.

Entering the warehouse, Tang Song looked at that familiar icon and a bright smile spread across his face.

[Restoration Potion*30]

Thirty bottles in total.

With this artifact he would remain calm in any trial by fire.

The car entered Shencheng Bay No.1 and stopped under Tower 5.

"President Tang, we've arrived." Liu Jiayi in the driver’s seat reminded him softly.

Tang Song nodded and stepped out.

He swiped his card, took the elevator straight up,

passed through the hallway, and arrived at the familiar dark armored door.

Beep—beep—

Fingerprint recognition accepted; the lock made a light crisp mechanical sound.

The door opened.

The foyer motion lights came on automatically, throwing a warm halo over the slippers at his feet.

Tang Song changed his shoes, crossed the slightly narrow corridor, and headed into the living room.

To his surprise, the living room was completely dark; curtains were tightly drawn, not a sliver of light leaked in.

The entire space was wrapped in silence.

He raised an eyebrow.

He vaguely guessed something and the amusement on his mouth deepened.

He stopped and teased, "Little Qing Ning, what prank are you pulling again? Believe me or not I'll spank you!"

No sooner had he finished speaking

Tap, tap—tap—

A few light sounds.

Flames flickered.

In the center of the living room, warm yellow star-string lights blinked on like a string of stars fallen to earth, hanging down with soft points of light.

One after another, lights came on along the walls, the wine cabinet, and the sofa edges, instantly outlining a cozy contour to the room.

Candlelight flickered on the dining table. 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

A delicate cake stood silently in the center, topped with numeral candles "2" and "6."

Colorful helium balloons floated beneath the ceiling, streamers draped over chair backs.

And amid this warmth of candlelight and starlight,

by the long table piled with flowers,

three figures stood side by side.

One face was sensual and mature, brows and eyes carrying the charm unique to a mature woman, a smile tugging at her mouth as she winked at him.

One face was pure and cute, baby fat giving her cheeks a pouty, annoyed look as she glared at him with clenched teeth.

One face was delicate and shy, head slightly bowed, eyelashes trembling like a startled fawn.

Tang Song's mouth widened bit by bit.

He never expected the three of them to appear together here.