Zhang Wanqing was growing increasingly annoyed with the male classmate who’d recently begun hovering around her. She wasn’t sure exactly when it started, but lately he’d been excessively attentive—and she wasn’t having it.

To make matters worse, he was on the shorter side, standing just under five-foot-seven, and Wanqing had always preferred taller, more handsome men. She wasn’t proud of it, but she could be shallow that way.

No matter how cold or dismissive she acted, he persisted—until just as her patience was about to snap, Zhou Xiaocheng’s voice cut through the air.

Wanqing’s face lit up as if spotting a lifeline. She hurried toward him, her steps quick and relieved.

Xiaocheng almost laughed; the way her eyes shone, you’d think she was a child running to a parent. “Are you busy?” he asked.

“Not at all!” she shook her head eagerly. “Do you need something?”

Noticing Lin Xiaoxiao wasn’t with her, he asked, “Where’s my sister-in-law?”

“She’s helping our professor in the lab,” Wanqing said, pointing toward the science building.

Xiaocheng glanced past her at the young man still watching them. “There’s something I’d like to discuss. Do you have time now?”

“Of course,” she said quickly. “Let’s go. Now is perfect.”

She led the way without looking back, leaving the puzzled classmate staring after them.

They ended up at a famous bun shop off-campus. Though state-run, it was legendary among locals—a place Xiaocheng occasionally visited back in his student days. Time had passed, but the buns tasted exactly as he remembered.

He ordered thirty, worried it might not be enough for Wanqing, plus a plate of braised beef and another of pickled vegetables.

At first glance, the buns looked ordinary, no different from those in the school canteen. But when Wanqing took a bite, her eyes widened in surprise. The filling was incredibly tender, bursting with rich broth. She finished one in three quick bites. “These are amazing! The soup inside—it’s as good as the guantang bao in the south part of town!”

Xiaocheng knew she loved good food, and watching her enjoy the meal gave him quiet satisfaction. The buns were small, just slightly larger than soup dumplings. Most people could manage ten, but Wanqing had an exceptional appetite—she put away eighteen before leaning back contentedly, cupping a bowl of seaweed soup in her hands.

Without realizing, Xiaocheng had eaten twelve himself—a personal record—and felt perfectly fine. He followed her lead and sipped the warm soup, feeling it soothe him from the inside out.

Finally, Wanqing set down her bowl. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Your father’s case,” he said carefully. “Would you be willing to help?”

She shook her head. “It’s not that I don’t want to cooperate—but I really don’t know anything. I was only six. What could I possibly remember?”

Xiaocheng watched her in silence, his gaze deep and clear. Something in his eyes made it hard for her to hold his stare.

Wanqing dropped her gaze, suddenly uneasy.

Seeing her like that, he felt a pang of guilt. She’d already suffered enough—he shouldn’t push. His tone softened. “You don’t have to say anything you don’t want to. Let me share what I’ve been thinking about the case.”

It was against protocol to discuss details with someone involved, but if it helped her open up, maybe it was worth it.

Wanqing looked up, curious.

“Lately,” he began, his voice calm but serious, “we’ve been watching Zhang Baojiang’s family. His son, Zhang Hongbing, has started spending money freely—which doesn’t fit their situation. You know how they lived. We suspect someone may have paid him off… perhaps the same person who forced Zhang Baojiang to take his own life.”

Wanqing blinked. “Why not just bring Hongbing in for questioning?”

“It’s not that simple. If it were, Zhang Baojiang wouldn’t have chosen death to protect the secret.”

He didn’t mention his other fear: that arresting Hongbing might get him killed too.

Wanqing sighed. “I really don’t know. I wish I did. You don’t think… I’m hiding something, do you?”

Xiaocheng smiled gently. “No, don’t overthink it. It’s getting late—let me take you back to campus.”

On the way, Wanqing’s thoughts wandered. This was the second time Zhou Xiaocheng had sought her out. Could it be okay… to really like him?

She stole a glance at his profile, sharp yet softened by the shifting light. He was handsome—the kind you’d sneak a second look at without thinking.

What she didn’t yet understand was how falling for someone could start so quietly—a single look could be enough. And once it began, everything about that person would become something to cherish.

She stayed quiet most of the way, while Xiaocheng did most of the talking—reminding her the days were shorter, the nights colder, warning her not to wander after dark or visit the black market lately. With policy changes, he explained, some were getting bold, and it wasn’t safe.

Most of all, he told her to dress warmly and take care.

He wasn’t sure why he’d become so talkative. Maybe it was out of respect for Old Zhang’s last wishes. Or maybe it was because this girl had already seen too much hardship.

When they reached the campus gate, he nearly added, Eat more—you’re too thin, but then he remembered how many buns she’d put away and held his tongue.

He watched her skip through the gate, then shook his head with a quiet laugh before driving off.

Back in the classroom, Lin Xiaoxiao took one look at Zhang Wanqing’s glowing face and grinned. “Zhou Xiaocheng came to see you again, didn’t he?”