The next morning, when Jiang Shi woke up, Cheng Ye had already left.

Gao Xinhe came bouncing over with his schoolbag, holding a bag of peas in his hand. He glanced around, didn’t see Jiang Xue, and put the peas on the table.
“Little cousin, where’s your mom?”

Jiang Shi carried a thermos out to the yard to wash up. At Gao’s words, he yawned sleepily.
“Don’t know, probably went off to work.”

“Oh.” Gao Xinhe said, “My parents plowed the fields a few days ago, pulled out all the pea sprouts, and picked loads of peas. My mom asked me to bring some over.”

Jiang Shi had turned the cold water up too much, and the icy water made him shiver, instantly waking him up. He glanced at Gao Xinhe’s schoolbag hanging on the pear tree by the door.
“You even brought your schoolbag?”

“My parents are going out of town today. They told me to come find you, so we can go back to school together at noon. By the way, Brother Cheng knocked on my door this morning. He said he was leaving first and told you not to look for him.”

Jiang Shi froze for a moment.
“Cheng Ye went back?”

Gao Xinhe hadn’t eaten breakfast and was starving. He grabbed one of the steamed buns Jiang Xue had left for Jiang Shi.

Munching as he talked, he said,
“Yeah, the mine called my dad last night, said they were looking for him. He left before dawn, must’ve been something urgent.”

Jiang Shi hung his towel on the rack, red marks still on his face from scrubbing. He lowered his eyes and said nothing.

He sat with Gao Xinhe and nibbled at his bun.

Gao Xinhe was already on his second, while Jiang Shi hadn’t even finished half. He sat on the low stool, legs spread, picking at a piece of the bun. He kneaded the fluffy dough bit by bit into a solid lump.

A brightly feathered rooster tilted its head at him.

Then a ringtone sounded from inside the house. Jiang Shi tossed the dough to the rooster, stood up, and went to find his phone.

It was a call from Zhang Chi.

The box he had dug up last night still sat on the table. Jiang Shi sat on the bed and answered.

As soon as the line connected, Zhang Chi’s scolding voice burst through:
“Damn it, Song Shi! Do you even know your phone bill is overdue? Pay it already!”

Jiang Shi replied,
“I’m Jiang Shi, thanks.”

Zhang Chi: “…”

Jiang Shi added,
“I haven’t checked my phone lately. Didn’t know it was overdue. What do you want?”

Zhang Chi nearly jumped,
“What kind of answer is that? Can’t I call you just because I want to? You’re off hiding in some godforsaken mountain. If someone sold you off, no one would even know. I’m worried about you.”

Jiang Shi flopped back on the bed, popped a candy into his mouth.
“I’m fine. Eating well, sleeping well.”

“Really? Then send me a photo so I can see.”

Jiang Shi looked up at the dark, wooden beams overhead, cobwebs stretched across them. He rolled over.
“What’s there to see? I’m with my real mom. She won’t let me starve.”

“You’re so noble, huh? Didn’t even take a penny when you left. I asked Song Jian’an. That place you’re in, even drinking water means carrying buckets, farming all day in the dirt. With your soft hands, you think you can handle that?”

Jiang Shi: “…”

Zhang Chi pressed,
“You really didn’t take any money at all?”

“Not exactly,” Jiang Shi said. “I did take a little.”

Zhang Chi nearly fainted,
“After all these years with the Songs—blood or not, you still put in effort. And what do you do? Leave without a cent, now you can’t even pay your phone bill.”

Jiang Shi cut him off,
“If you just called to ridicule me, I’ll hang up.”

“I’m not ridiculing! I’m worried you’ll starve to death in that backwater. Tell me honestly, do you have enough money? Is anyone bullying you?”

“Enough. No one.”

“Really?”

“You think I’m the kind of person who lets people push me around?”

“…”

This guy only ever made other people suffer.

Seeing Jiang Shi’s patience running thin, Zhang Chi hesitated, then blurted,
“Uh… Huo Ji came to me. He asked where you were.”

Jiang Shi’s eyes, previously smiling, instantly turned cold.
“You told him?”

“No.” Zhang Chi swallowed, “You didn’t agree, how could I dare?”

“Good. Then tell him this: his grandfather is living happily. No need for the grandson to worry.”

“….”

After hanging up, Jiang Shi lay on the bed for another twenty minutes before finally getting up.

He packed a couple of clothes into his schoolbag. Before leaving, he stared at the box on the table for a few seconds. Finally, he shoved it into the innermost compartment of his bag.

The new week passed peacefully.

Jiang Shi had little interest in studying. Most of the time he napped on the desk or played games on his phone.

His deskmate was a quiet girl with blunt bangs. They barely exchanged a word each day. But at the window and in the hallway, unfamiliar faces often appeared, sneaking curious glances at Jiang Shi.

There are always bold people in the world. On a sunny Friday afternoon, a girl blocked his way.

She held out a pink envelope full of girlish feelings, but Jiang Shi didn’t even touch it. He hooked his finger around his empty bag strap, sidestepped her, and said,
“Sorry, I don’t date.”

Polite yet cold.

Since his transfer, that had been everyone’s impression of the pretty new student. Whoever spoke to him got a reply—but no more than that. The only one close to him was Gao Xinhe from Class Ten. Yet even between them, there seemed to be a thin layer separating them.

He was like a noble cat: independent, not clingy, always lounging in the sun on a balcony. Its beauty drew people near, but the moment someone reached out, the cat would slip away, alert.

Proud, yet tinged with loneliness.

—

Jiang Shi went to the cafeteria.

None of the food appealed to him. If not for the need to survive, he wouldn’t even bother looking.

He picked two random dishes, carried his tray to a window seat. Outside, cherry blossoms bloomed brilliantly. Branches stretched through the half-open window, scattering pale petals across the table.

Leaning back, Jiang Shi took out his phone.

His call history had only a handful of entries. The most recent was Zhang Chi’s call. Beneath it was an unfamiliar number with no label, dated last week.

His finger hovered over the dial, pressed once, then released.

A few seconds later, he snapped the phone shut, cursing himself in his heart.

He and Cheng Ye weren’t even that close. Why should he care? Let him drop dead.

With a scowl, Jiang Shi forced down the food, carried his tray out. Just as he stepped outside, a tall figure caught his eye.

Sensing his gaze, the man turned. A deep, handsome face came into view.

“Jiang Shi.”

Cheng Ye called his name.

Jiang Shi’s fingertip, resting on the tray, twitched. He didn’t realize it, but his eyes brightened the instant he saw Cheng Ye.

His face, however, stayed sour.
“What are you doing here?”

Cheng Ye wore a new black jacket—cheap, from a street stall, ten-odd yuan at most, still poor quality, but at least it fit.

The black set off his sharp features even more. Standing by the sink where students washed their trays, broad-shouldered and long-legged.

In two strides, he reached Jiang Shi, taking the tray from his hands.
“Came to see you.”

No matter how he said it, the words sounded strange.

“What for?” Jiang Shi asked.

“Left in a rush last week, forgot to tell you. So I came to apologize.”

Such a clumsy excuse, but with Cheng Ye’s thick skin, he said it without a blink.

Jiang Shi didn’t feel that. Instead, his face darkened.
“You think I’m that petty?”

Cheng Ye shouldered through the crowd of students and washed the tray for him, chuckling softly.
“Not petty. My mistake.”

“…”

When he was done, Cheng Ye set a hand on Jiang Shi’s shoulder and steered him away from the crowd.
“I’ll go return the tray. Wait here. Then I’ll take you out to eat.”

“I already ate.”

“The cafeteria food is bad. You didn’t eat enough.”

“…”

Jiang Shi had no rebuttal.

He didn’t know when it had started, but whenever he was around Cheng Ye, his life seemed to fall neatly into place. He didn’t need to think. Just follow Cheng Ye’s lead.

This subtle change escaped even Jiang Shi’s notice. The moment he saw Cheng Ye, his brain simply stopped working. He didn’t ask where they were going, just followed him through the streets until they reached a restaurant.

On weekends, students flocked to restaurants outside the school, crowding them full. Jiang Shi had gone to the cafeteria precisely to avoid that. But the place Cheng Ye picked was quiet and empty.

The décor was refined, with even a little courtyard where a peach tree bloomed.

One look told Jiang Shi the food here wouldn’t be cheap.

Cheng Ye rinsed the cups with tea before pouring Jiang Shi a drink. Then he sat opposite, rinsed the bowls and chopsticks too, all the while explaining,
“The owner’s from Jiangcheng. They serve traditional Jiangcheng dishes. You’ll like it.”

After all the spicy food in Lincheng, Jiang Shi didn’t particularly miss Jiangcheng’s lighter cuisine. He was more concerned with something else.
“This place must be expensive.”

“Not really.”

Yeah, right. “Then show me the menu.”

“No menu. You just tell the boss what you want. But I already ordered before we came. Too late to change.”

Under the table, Jiang Shi kicked him.
“Cheng Ye, you think you’re rich?”

Cheng Ye didn’t even flinch.
“Not rich.”

If he were, he wouldn’t have picked this place.

The restaurant was quiet, their voices carrying clearly. Jiang Shi lowered his voice.
“I have money. I don’t need you treating me. Do you even know your own situation?”

He didn’t spell it out, but Cheng Ye knew what he meant. A guy like him should save every penny to pay off debts, not waste it on meals.

Placing the bowl and chopsticks in front of Jiang Shi, Cheng Ye lifted his gaze.
“I know. But I still want to treat you.”

What did anyone else matter? The money he earned—he only wanted to spend it on Jiang Shi. Creditors were irrelevant.

Cheng Jianbin’s debts, fine, he would repay them. But never at the cost of the money he wanted to use for Jiang Shi.

To cage a beautiful little bird, one must build its nest with gold and silk threads, feed it the tenderest berries, give it the sweetest dew—raise it into arrogance and willfulness.

So that when even the falling rain could bruise its wings…

Love itself would become the cage that trapped it.