Oh no! I've only been a freshman and I've already been targeted by a mean upperclassman.

Li Chen put the plate back on the dish rack. He then dried his hands.

"dad."

"Um."

"Your analysis is correct. But you don't need to worry."

"I'm not worried. I am—"

"You rubbed your thumb four times."

Li Mohan lowered his hand from his arm.

The father and son stared at each other for two seconds.

Shen Ruolan's laughter echoed from the living room. It was very loud, three times louder than she usually laughed at home.

"Your mother is laughing like that. She must have heard something good." Li Mohan broke the silence first, taking two steps toward the living room.

Li Chen followed him out.

Shen Ruolan was showing Yan Xi photos on her phone. On the screen—

Li Chen's pupils contracted slightly.

It was a photo of him when he was about three years old. He was shirtless, holding a tree branch in his hand. Behind him, a speckled pheasant was running frantically.

"This photo was taken at his maternal grandmother's house. Look at his expression—"

"mom."

Shen Ruolan didn't even look up. "This is none of your business. Go make some tea."

Yan Xi's lips were pursed. She was holding back. It was a difficult struggle for her. Smile lines had already appeared at the corners of her eyes.

"Auntie," Yan Xi pointed to the branch in Li Chen's hand in the photo, "that grip. It's the same way he holds a knife when he's cutting vegetables now. His right hand's web of thumb is about a centimeter above the base."

Shen Ruolan laughed loudly.

"You're so observant! He was like this when he was little, always holding onto everything very tightly—"

"Mom." Li Chen's voice rose half an octave.

"What does it have to do with you that he was three years old? You didn't even have a girlfriend back then."

Yan Xi finally couldn't hold back.

Laugh out loud.

It wasn't her usual slight curve at the corners of her mouth; she was genuinely smiling.

My shoulders were shaking.

Li Chen stood in the center of the living room, caught in a dilemma.

Li Mohan walked past him.

I sat back down on the sofa.

I picked up the teacup and took a sip.

His expression remained composed.

But the curve of her lips was already impossible to hide.

"There's one more." Shen Ruolan flipped through the pages. "This one's even better—"

"mom!"

Shen Ruolan looked up at him.

"Try shouting it again."

Li Chen shut up.

Yan Xi looked at her phone screen.

In the new photo, Li Chen, who looks about five or six years old, is wearing a white shirt that is clearly two sizes too big and is standing in front of a stove.

Standing on a small stool.

He was holding a spatula almost as long as himself. There was a flour mark on his face.

"This photo was taken when his grandfather was teaching him how to cook," Shen Ruolan said, her tone softening.

"His grandfather said that boys should know how to cook."

"When you find a wife in the future, you can't expect her to serve you every day."

Yan Xi looked at the photo.

Her smile faded slightly.

It's not that I'm unhappy.

It's a different expression.

"His grandfather taught him a lot."

Yan Xi said.

The voice was lower than before.

"Yes."

Shen Ruolan nodded.

"Pottery and rope weaving are the same. His grandfather said that these things are useless now, but they will be useful in the future."

Yan Xi's gaze shifted from the photo to Li Chen, who was standing in the center of the living room with his ears already bright red.

"It works," she said. "It works."

Li Chen's ears were burning.

He could feel the look in Yan Xi's eyes when she looked at him.

This is not a joke, nor is it a tease.

Seriously.

Shen Ruolan put her phone away.

He patted Yan Xi's hand.

"Xiaoxi, let me tell you the truth."

"My aunt said."

"This kid has had plenty of girls pursuing him since he was little. He's never paid any attention to any of them. His dad and I both thought he might be—"

"mom."

"Shut up." Shen Ruolan and Yan Xi spoke almost simultaneously.

Li Chen shut up.

the second time.

“We thought he was slow to understand,” Shen Ruolan continued. “But when you called me that day, I knew. It wasn’t that he was slow to understand. It was that he was waiting.”

Yan Xi curled her fingers on her knee.

"Waiting for the right person." Shen Ruolan placed her hand on Yan Xi's hand. "Xiao Yan, thank you."

Yan Xi lowered her head.

Li Chen stood three meters away.

He noticed that the tips of Yan Xi's ears had turned red.

Even a phoenix hairpin couldn't hide that color.

Li Mohan coughed on the sofa opposite him.

Her eyes were a little red.

But he would never admit it.

"The tea's gone cold," Li Mohan said, his voice muffled. "Someone go refill the water."

"Go by yourself," Shen Ruolan said.

Li Mohan stood up. As he passed Li Chen, he patted him hard on the shoulder. He didn't say anything.

But the force of that blow was greater than usual.

Li Chen knew what that meant.

He walked over to Yan Xi and sat down on the armrest of the sofa.

Yan Xi didn't look up. But her hand reached over from her knee and hooked her little finger around his.

Shen Ruolan looked at their intertwined fingers, smiled, and stood up.

"I'll go cut some fruit."

She went into the kitchen. As she passed Li Mohan, she nudged him with her elbow.

"Don't just stand there. Go and turn up the air conditioning in the guest room by two degrees."

Li Mohan's mouth opened slightly. He seemed to want to say something, but then he didn't. He turned and went to the guest room.

There were only two people left in the living room.

Yan Xi tightened her little finger a little.

"Those things your grandfather taught you."

"Um."

He said it would be useful later.

"Um."

Yan Xi finally looked up at him.

Her eyes were a little red, but not wet.

"It worked," she repeated softly.

Li Chen turned her hand over and grasped it completely, palm to palm.

Her body temperature was one degree higher than before she boarded the ship.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. It was a message from group 302. He didn't check it.

The sound of Shen Ruolan chopping fruit came from the kitchen. The beeping sound of Li Mohan adjusting the air conditioner came from the guest room.

Yan Xi leaned on his shoulder. The end of the phoenix hairpin rested against his chin.

"Li Chen".

"Um."

Will your mom show me the photos again tomorrow?

"...Highly likely."

"What about the one who wet the bed?"

Li Chen's breath hitched.

"My dad said he hid it."

Do you believe in your dad's ability to hide things?

Li Chen remained silent.

Yan Xi's lips curved into a smile.

Shen Ruolan came out carrying a fruit platter.

"Xiao Yan, try this cherry—"

Yan Xi released Li Chen's hand, sat up straight, and took the cherries.

"Thank you, Auntie."

Li Chen sat beside her, watching Yan Xi chat with his mother. He watched his father come out of the guest room, sit back down opposite him, and sip his tea.

Outside the window is the night of Beijing. The city lights are densely packed.

He glanced down at his phone. The latest message from group 302.

[Chen Mo: Li Chen has read but not replied for over 47 minutes. Based on behavioral modeling, he is currently in a state of strong belonging satisfaction. It is recommended that the group remain silent for at least two hours.]

[Wang Qiang: Two hours???]

Chen Mo: He's home. She's home too. His parents are home too. The four of them are in the living room. In psychology, this kind of scene is called—

[Zhao Zixuan: What's your name?]

Chen Mo: Call it "home".

Li Chen locked the screen.

Yan Xi hooked her little finger up again at some point.

He didn't look down.

But he gripped his little finger very tightly.