The incident before bed killed whatever drowsiness Yunli had managed to scrape together. She typed back accidentally pressed it, sorry and stared at the screen for a long time after. No reply came.
She slept badly. Not really sleeping at all — just drifting in and out, waiting for morning to show up and put her out of her misery.
She woke to afternoon light. First reflex: grab her phone.
The message hadn't sunk without a trace the way she'd hoped. He'd replied. Seven in the morning.
Fu Shizhe: [Yeah]
Like he'd just woken up and glanced at it. Casual. Not even a period.
She didn't know whether to feel relieved or not.
Yunli dragged herself to the living room. Deng Chuqi was stretched across the sofa, deep in a game, and caught her with a sideways glance.
"You robbing houses last night? What time did you sleep?"
"Maybe three, four." Yunli dropped down beside her. "Xia Xia leave already?"
"Early morning." Deng Chuqi didn't take her eyes off the screen. "Why are you sitting there — go wash your face, eat something."
Yunli didn't move.
Deng Chuqi finished her round, put the phone down, and looked at her properly. "What's wrong with you."
Yunli exhaled, long and slow.
"Couldn't sleep?"
"...Sort of."
"Bad dream?"
"No."
"Uncomfortable somewhere?"
Yunli looked at her. The concern on Deng Chuqi's face was genuine, and that was what finally cracked her open.
"Okay. I need to tell you something."
"What."
"Last night before bed." Yunli paused. "I accidentally sent a meme to Xia Xia's uncle."
"What kind of meme?"
Yunli held out her phone without a word.
Deng Chuqi took it with both hands, expression serious to match. She read it. Her face froze.
Then she completely lost it.
The stiff, suffocating mood shattered.
"Stop laughing," Yunli said, frowning hard.
Deng Chuqi tried. Really tried. Then gave up and laughed harder. "Okay, okay — wait, hold on—"
"Is this not serious to you?" Yunli was genuinely distressed. "He probably thinks I'm insane. Or some kind of pervert. Or just completely filthy—"
"How serious can it be," Deng Chuqi managed, catching her breath. "You didn't explain, but you didn't not explain either. And he already replied. That's basically forgiveness."
"But I just — I offended an elder."
That sent Deng Chuqi off again. "Elders are understanding of the young. He literally said yeah. That's understanding."
Yunli stared at her flatly.
"Stop sulking." Deng Chuqi sat up straighter, suddenly remembering something. "Actually — when did you get his WeChat? Yesterday you were right there in front of everyone and you still didn't ask. I didn't want to embarrass you so I kept quiet."
Silence.
"Why'd you go quiet."
Yunli's mind spun fast. "Just... that."
"That what."
Yunli looked at her. Then her shoulders dropped, and she gave up.
"Don't tell Xia Xia."
"Tell me what?"
"The WeChat I wanted," Yunli said quietly, "was her uncle's."
Deng Chuqi stared at her.
After hearing the whole story, she sat back and slowly nodded. "Okay. That actually explains why you were acting so strange that day."
"It wasn't a tangle," Yunli said. "We just talked a few times."
"And he doesn't have a girlfriend. And you like him." Deng Chuqi touched her head. "Timing, location, circumstances — it's all lined up."
"He already turned me down."
"Turning down a WeChat request isn't the same as turning you down. He probably just didn't want to seem easy. That type — cold at first, you know? Hard to get close to. But once you get through?" Deng Chuqi shook her head with feeling. "Devoted for life."
Yunli wanted to say how would I even start, but she kept that to herself.
Deng Chuqi was still scrolling through the chat log — four messages total. She raised an eyebrow, then covered the two in the middle with her thumb, and smiled.
"Look at this."
Yunli looked.
Without the middle messages, it read:
Yunli: [Be my wife]
Fu Shizhe: [Yeah]
"..."
"Li Li." Deng Chuqi's smile spread. "You're blushing."
"I am not—" Yunli snatched her phone back and stood up. "I'm going to wash my face."
Deng Chuqi had known Yunli long enough to know: asking a stranger for directions was already a stretch for her. Asking a man she liked for his contact? Nearly impossible. And this was the first time — in all the years they'd been friends — that Yunli had ever said she liked someone.
So Deng Chuqi took it upon herself. She nudged. Suggested texts. Came up with reasons for Yunli to message Fu Shizhe.
Yunli ignored every single one.
Stubborn as stone.
She had to report to school the next day, so she ate, said goodbye, and went home.
Back at her apartment, she started packing. Yang Fang had sent over a stack of new clothes, and Yunli folded them one by one into the box — slowly, neatly — and somewhere along the way, packing turned into deciding what to wear tomorrow.
She caught herself, laughed a little at nothing, and got back to it.
But the feeling that had settled in her chest didn't go anywhere. It reminded her of the anxiety before the party — but softer. Something underneath it, quiet and hard to name.
Like a blind box sitting on a shelf. Already bought. Just waiting to be opened. And she wasn't sure if she wanted to know what was inside, but she kept looking at it anyway.
She didn't sleep well again, so she was up early.
Luggage first, then makeup — that part took most of the morning. When everything was done, she grabbed a rice roll from the fridge, stuffed the rest into a bag, and was ready to go.
A message came in from Fu Zhengchu. They were already at the entrance to her complex, but the gate guard wouldn't let in an unregistered plate. He asked which building she was in — he'd come up and help carry.
Earlier than she expected.
Her luggage was one suitcase and two large bags — quilts, pillow inserts, a mattress pad. Not small. She'd planned to make two trips down.
She didn't want to hold them up. She replied: [Building 11.]
Fu Zhengchu: [ok.]
She shut off the lights, checked the windows, and wrestled everything into the elevator.
Fu Zhengchu was already in the lobby. He took her bags without being asked, already talking — about how green the complex was, about nothing in particular, filling the air the whole way out.
Outside, they loaded everything into the car.
"Uncle, we're here!" Fu Zhengchu announced cheerfully.
Yunli knew she should say something. She just didn't know what to call him. His name felt too familiar. Hello on its own felt cold. She thought of what Xia Congsheng had said that day, took a quiet breath, and said:
"Hello... uncle."
The word came out of her mouth and landed strange.
But neither of them reacted.
Fu Shizhe turned his head and said simply, "Hello."
Yunli looked down. Her face felt warm for no good reason. She pulled out her water bottle and took a slow sip.
It was only a few minutes to campus.
At the south gate, Fu Shizhe parked. The three of them got out.
Fu Zhengchu unloaded the trunk piece by piece. His own things were just one box. Everything else was Yunli's.
Fu Shizhe took a bag from him and set it on top of a suitcase. "Anything else?"
"That's it."
Yunli, embarrassed, reached for one. "I'll take something."
"It's fine," Fu Zhengchu said. "None of it's heavy."
She ended up carrying only the insulated bag with the cake.
Walking between the two of them, she thought of the first time she'd moved into a dorm — her father and her brother on either side, her hands empty then too.
This felt the same, somehow.
She glanced sideways.
An uncle and a younger brother.
Yunli had been to Nanjing Polytechnic before — twice for re-examination, and she'd passed by occasionally when staying in Qilixiangdu. She wasn't a stranger to it.
Check-in was at the east gate. Both sides of the path were lined with departmental tents. Fu Zhengchu looked around and then asked, "Senior, what's your department?"
"Automation."
"Over there."
The noon lull meant almost no queue. After Yunli finished her paperwork, the staff told her the volunteers were out helping carry luggage and asked her to wait.
Fu Zhengchu — a junior, clearly comfortable here — said he knew the way and could take her.
The dorm area was a long walk from the gate, close to twenty minutes. With the bags, they decided to wait for the campus shuttle.
The shuttle looked like a small sightseeing bus, capacity around ten. Fu Zhengchu apparently knew the driver. He installed himself up front and started chatting the moment he sat down.
Yunli and Fu Shizhe sat together in the back row.
She wanted to say something. Tried out several things in her head. Every option felt off. She let it go.
After a moment, Fu Shizhe took out his phone and opened WeChat. She caught a glimpse of his contacts — mostly full names. One of them, near the top, was Xu Qingsong. His nephew, she remembered.
She looked away before she could see more. Focused on the campus sliding past the window. Students everywhere, loud and clustered, the air buzzing with the particular chaos of the first week.
Then she heard his voice, low and unhurried, like someone half-asleep in a patch of sun.
"What's your name?"
She turned. He was looking at her.
"Sorry?"
"Your name."
She had no idea why he was asking. Her nerves flickered. "Oh — my name is Yun... Li." She bit her tongue mid-syllable, felt her face go warm. "...Li."
Then, unnecessarily: "...centimeters."
He nodded. Said nothing.
Her brain was still catching up when she saw him open their chat window — the embarrassing exchange, right there on his screen — and tap into her contact to edit her name in his notes.
Oh.
That's why.
He was adding her name.
She noticed, without meaning to, how close they were sitting. Close enough to see the precise line of his lashes when he glanced down, the untroubled smoothness of his face.
If you set aside the cool distance in his eyes, Fu Shizhe was just a good-looking young man. Nothing complicated about it.
He didn't seem bothered by the message at all. Calm. Unbothered. The conversation clearly meant nothing to him.
That should have been a relief.
It mostly was.
Yunli turned back to the window and tried very hard not to think about the small, stupid part of her that wished it had meant just a little something.