My childhood friend is in her mature, sophisticated form again today. - Chapter 21

She wakes up naturally every day, goes downstairs to eat the breakfast Ah You makes, flips through the old files Ah Zuo has organized, and occasionally goes out for a walk. The street where the firm is located is not long, with a flower shop, a coffee shop, a convenience store, and a small hardware store. She has walked back and forth many times, and the shop owner recognizes her and nods and greets her when they meet.

“You seem to have a lot of free time lately,” Cheng Ran said to her in the studio one day.

“No commissions, of course I’m free.”

“You can find something to do.”

“for example?”

Cheng Ran thought for a moment. “For example… learning something new.”

Lin Jiqiu leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “You’ll teach me?”

“You’re not interested in anything I teach.”

How did you know?

“Last time I taught you how to code, you fell asleep after listening for ten minutes.”

Lin Jiqiu laughed. “That’s because your voice is pleasant, hypnotic.”

Cheng Ran’s ears turned slightly red, and he turned back to continue looking at the screen.

Lin Jiqiu didn’t leave. She went into the studio, pulled up a chair, and sat down, watching Cheng Ran work. His fingers were typing rapidly on the keyboard, the screen displaying a bunch of code and architecture diagrams she couldn’t understand. Occasionally, he would stop, stare at the screen for a few seconds, then modify a line and continue typing.

“What are you doing?” Lin Jiqiu asked.

“Improving the communication protocol for ‘Yin and Yang’.”

“Isn’t it already usable?”

“Being usable and being easy to use are two different things. The signal is not stable enough yet, and there will be delays at long distances.”

How far will the delay be?

“The longest distance we’ve tested so far is five kilometers, with a delay of 0.3 seconds. If it exceeds ten kilometers, the delay may exceed one second.”

Lin Jiqiu thought for a moment. “Our usual activity range is basically within ten kilometers, right?”

“That’s true now. It might not be in the future.”

Do you think you’ll run even further in the future?

Cheng Ran stopped and turned to look at her. “The Mirror Society has more than one stronghold in this city. If we want to keep chasing them, we’ll have to leave here sooner or later.”

Lin Jiqiu remained silent for a few seconds.

“Are you willing to leave?” Cheng Ran asked.

“What’s there to be reluctant about?”

“A right. A left. Cat.”

Lin Jiqiu did not answer.

She stood up and walked to the window. Below was the street she had walked countless times; the florist was watering the plants, and the café staff were moving tables and chairs. Ayou was wiping the signboard at the entrance—the signboard that read “Wanxiang Agency” was polished to a shine.

“If we really have to leave,” Lin Jiqiu said, “we’ll take them with us.”

Cheng Ran watched her retreating figure, a slight smile curving his lips. “Okay.”

That afternoon, Lin Jiqiu went out to buy some things.

It wasn’t a request, not a task. It was grocery shopping. Ayou said she wanted to make hot pot that night and asked Lin Jiqiu to help her buy some ingredients. She made a list—tofu, enoki mushrooms, luncheon meat, green vegetables, and lotus root slices, which Chengran likes.

Lin Jiqiu walked into the small supermarket on the street corner and pushed her shopping cart between the shelves. There weren’t many people in the supermarket at this time; a few middle-aged women were picking through the vegetables, and a young mother was lingering in the snack section with her child.

She picked up each item from the list one by one. The tofu was in the refrigerated display case, the enoki mushrooms were in the vegetable section, and the luncheon meat was on the canned goods shelf. Lotus root slices—she searched for a long time but couldn’t find them. She asked a clerk, who said that they were sold out for today and wouldn’t have any until tomorrow.

Lin Jiqiu took out his phone and sent a message to Ayou.

The lotus roots are sold out.

Ah You replied instantly. 【Then let’s skip the lotus root. Let’s use potatoes instead.】

【good.】

She grabbed a few potatoes and put them in her shopping cart. As she reached the checkout counter, her phone vibrated again. It was Cheng Ran.

Please bring me a bag of coffee beans when you come back. You know the brand.

Lin Jiqiu’s lips curved slightly as he turned around and went back to get the coffee beans.

She knew she didn’t need to ask what brand it was. Cheng Ran’s coffee taste had never changed—dark roast, low acidity, and strong bitterness. The firm’s coffee beans were always this brand; Ayou always bought the same kind, never changing.

She took a bag from the shelf and put it in her shopping cart.

When he went to pay, the cashier glanced at him. “Young man, are you buying groceries alone?”

“I bought it for a friend.”

“girlfriend?”

Lin Jiqiu was taken aback. “…No.”

“That’s great, buying groceries for a friend.” The aunt smiled and put the items into a bag.

Lin Jiqiu walked out of the supermarket carrying two large bags and headed back along the sidewalk. The sun was shining brightly; the autumn sun wasn’t harsh, and it felt warm against her skin. She walked slowly, the bags containing beverage bottles making a clattering sound as they bumped against each other.

The ball on my wrist vibrated slightly.

“Did you buy lotus roots?” Cheng Ran’s voice came through the earphone.

“No. The lotus roots are sold out. We’ll use potatoes instead.”

“Potatoes are fine too.”

Are you listening to me in the studio?

“No. I’m just checking your heart rate.”

“…Why are you checking my heart rate for no reason?”

“I’m afraid you’ll get hit by a car.”

Lin Jiqiu laughed out loud. “You weren’t like this before.”

“What?”

“Talkative.”

Cheng Ran paused for a second. “Perhaps things are changing.”

“Change what?”

“have no idea.”

Lin Jiqiu didn’t press the matter. She quickened her pace, making the clattering of the bags even louder.

When they returned to the office, Ayou had already prepared the hot pot broth. A yin-yang hot pot—half spicy and half non-spicy. Azu was chopping vegetables, his knife skills were surprisingly good. Ahua was squatting at the kitchen door, waiting to be fed. Amo wasn’t there, who knows where he was hiding again. Aju was also at the kitchen door, squatting side by side with Ahua, the two cats like two guardian deities.

“The boss is back!” Ayou took the bag from her and took out the items one by one, “Tofu, enoki mushrooms, luncheon meat, green vegetables, potatoes… coffee beans?”

“It’s true.”

“Oh, right, he said he was almost done drinking.”

Ah-You placed the coffee beans on the counter and continued arranging the side dishes. Ah-Zuo arranged the sliced ​​potatoes neatly on a plate, one slice at a time.

Lin Jiqiu changed her shoes and sat down on the sofa.

Cheng Ran came downstairs. He was unusually not in the studio today, wearing dark loungewear, his hair still a bit messy. He walked to the counter, picked up the bag of coffee beans, and glanced at it.

“This is it,” he said.

“Otherwise what? Could I possibly buy the wrong thing?” Lin Jiqiu leaned back on the sofa.

Cheng Ran didn’t reply, and put the coffee beans into the kitchen cabinet.

In the evening, the steam from the hot pot filled the entire office.

Ah You placed the induction cooker on the coffee table, and the broth in the pot bubbled and simmered. Ah Zuo brought out the dishes one by one, and Ah Hua and Ah Ju were already squatting next to the coffee table. Ah Mo also appeared at some point, squatting on the back of the sofa, looking down at the contents of the pot.

Lin Jiqiu picked up a slice of beef, put it into the pot, counted to ten, took it out, and put it into Cheng Ran’s bowl.

Cheng Ran looked at the meat in the bowl.

Aren’t you going to eat?

You eat first.

He didn’t refuse and picked it up to eat.

Ayou glanced at Lin Jiqiu, then at Cheng Ran, his lips curling into a wide smile. Azuo gently kicked him under the table. He toned it down a bit, but the smile still lingered.

“Ah You, your meat is overcooked,” Lin Jiqiu said.

Ah You looked down and saw that the beef in his bowl had turned dark brown.

“Ah—my flesh!”

“What happened to your meat?” Cheng Ran asked.

“Overcooked!”

“Didn’t you cook it yourself?”

Ah You opened his mouth, but had nothing to say, so he silently ate the old meat.

A-Zuo’s lips had an almost invisible curve at the corners.

Ahua nudged Ayou’s trouser leg with her paw, and Ayou looked down at her. “You want some too?” Ahua meowed. Ayou picked up a slice of beef, rinsed it in the broth, blew on it to cool it down, and placed it in front of her. Ahua lowered her head and ate it, and Aju also came over. Ayou then rinsed another slice.

“Are you two here to eat hot pot or to eat mine?” Ah You muttered, but still cooked the third slice.

Lin Jiqiu ate for a while, then put down his chopsticks.

“What’s wrong?” Cheng Ran asked.

I’m full.

“You’ve only eaten half a bowl.”

“My stomach has shrunk.”

Cheng Ran looked at her but didn’t expose her. He knew she hadn’t been eating much lately, not because her stomach had shrunk, but because of a habit she’d developed at the camp—eating quickly, eating little, always ready to run. Her body had remembered it; it wasn’t so easy to change.

He picked up a piece of green vegetable with his chopsticks and put it in her bowl.

“Eat some more.”

Lin Jiqiu looked at the green vegetables in the bowl, then at Cheng Ran.

“When did you start feeding me?”

“From the moment you started not eating properly.”

Ah You almost burst out laughing, but Ah Zuo kicked him again.

Lin Jiqiu picked up his chopsticks and ate the vegetables.

She ate slowly, one bite at a time. She chewed the vegetables for a long time before swallowing. Cheng Ran didn’t look at her, continuing to cook meat and vegetables in the hot pot and put them in his own bowl, but his senses were constantly monitoring her data—heart rate, body temperature, chewing frequency. He knew she was eating, and that was enough.

As the hot pot meal drew to a close, Ah You was so full he was leaning back on the sofa. Ah Zuo quickly cleared the table, emptying it in no time.

Ahua and Aju each found a place to sleep. Amo disappeared at some point—perhaps he returned to some shadow.

Lin Jiqiu leaned back on the sofa, looking at the ceiling.

“Cheng Ran”.

“Um.”

“What do you think the next commission will be?”

Cheng Ran thought for a moment. “I don’t know.”

“Take a guess.”

“I can’t guess.”

“Just guess.”

Cheng Ran was silent for a few seconds. “It’s related to the mirror.”

Lin Jiqiu turned her head to look at him.

“Why?”

“Because the mirrors won’t stop,” Cheng Ran said. “They’re expanding, infiltrating, weaving that net. Sooner or later, someone will run into that thread and come knocking.”

Lin Jiqiu stared at the ceiling without saying a word.

The ball on my wrist vibrated slightly.

She knew he was waiting.

She’s waiting too.

The night outside the window was deep; the flower shop across the street was closed, but the lights in the café were still on. The sign of Wanxiang Architectural Firm gleamed dimly under the streetlights.

Everything was quiet.

But beneath the surface, undercurrents are surging.