To be fair, though the first impression wasn’t great, Ji Nian had to admit that this guy had a striking presence.
It wasn’t the kind of breathtaking allure that Lu Jinghuai possessed, but rather a raw, hormonal visual impact that made it impossible for her to pretend she didn’t recognize him.
“It’s you,” Ji Nian said, playing along.
But internally, she was thinking: If you dare call me “shorty,” I swear I’ll elbow you.
Fortunately, Wei Junze didn’t. He seemed to sense she wasn’t fond of the nickname.
He wasn’t surprised Ji Nian remembered him.
But that didn’t stop him from teasing, “You still remember me, huh?”
Ji Nian nodded. “Yeah. Red Pepper.”
Wei Junze’s expression froze for a second.
?
He reached up and touched his dark red hair, then chuckled.
“Fair enough.”
“But just so you know, my name’s Wei Junze.”
Ji Nian gave a half-hearted nod, took his phone, opened the voting app, found the “Rookie Band,” cast a vote, and shoved it back at him.
“Thanks. Bye.”
Wei Junze was amused.
So blunt.
“If I get people to vote for you, how about giving me your contact info?”
“I even downloaded QQ just for you.”
He waved his phone.
With his bright red hair and towering height, he stood out like a sore thumb. Whispers had already started spreading around them.
“Who’s that? Does Ji Nian know him?”
“He’s so hot—definitely not from our school. Maybe an alumni?”
“They seem pretty close.”
“Okay, stop. Don’t you feel like we’re just NPCs in some novel right now?”
Before Ji Nian could respond, two figures suddenly flanked her—one on each side.
Lu Jinghuai didn’t even glance at Wei Junze, murmuring low, “Do you still have my thing?”
Meanwhile, He Xiang’s dark eyes locked onto Wei Junze. “You’re in the way.”
Translation: Get lost.
Wei Junze’s smile faded as he took in the two boys—both exceptionally tall and good-looking.
Especially Lu Jinghuai. He hadn’t paid much attention on stage earlier, but up close, the guy was undeniably mesmerizing. Wei Junze’s gaze lingered for a second.
“Kids, Ji Nian hasn’t said anything. Why are you in such a hurry?”
He smirked at He Xiang, calling him “kid” but clearly not above engaging in a little verbal sparring.
Ji Nian, who had been adjusting Lu Jinghuai’s earring, suddenly snapped her head up.
Did he just diss our He Xiang?!
Does he not know who’s got his back?
“He’s right. You are blocking the way. And as for votes, we don’t need them for now,” Ji Nian said with a tight smile.
Noticing how protective she was of He Xiang, Wei Junze’s gaze flicked between them.
Hm. Didn’t seem like that kind of relationship.
More like a mother hen guarding her chick.
“Fine. If you don’t want to, that’s that.”
She expected him to push further, but Wei Junze pocketed his phone and turned away with a casual wave.
What Ji Nian didn’t know was that his easy retreat had a reason.
“We’ll meet again…” Wei Junze muttered under his breath.
A green-haired guy suddenly yanked him aside, chattering excitedly about some “little fiancée” and how he’d been looking for a “green-eyed” someone just days ago.
Wait—green eyes?
Wei Junze’s thoughts clicked. He glanced back at Ji Nian.
“Holy crap, Wei Junze, you shameless bastard! You’re calling her your fiancée when nothing’s even settled yet? Did the girl even agree?!”
Wei Junze hooked an arm around the noisy green-haired guy’s neck, voice low and warning. “Shut it.”
While that commotion unfolded, Lu Jinghuai finally got his earring back.
Without a mirror and unfamiliar with the delicate chain, he fumbled a few times, even tugging his earlobe red.
Ji Nian couldn’t take it anymore. She pulled him aside, away from prying eyes, and deftly unhooked the earring for him.
Lu Jinghuai handed her the stud without hesitation.
Ji Nian paused—but took it and helped him put it on.
His piercing was tiny, and the dim lighting under the trees forced her to lean in close to see.
Lu Jinghuai bent down slightly to make it easier for her.
At this proximity, she could feel his breath brushing against her bangs. Her gaze drifted—from his earlobe down to—
His lips. Soft, faintly pink, with a plump cupid’s bow.
“Was he the ‘little incident’ you ran into during your first band practice?”
The question caught her off guard.
“Huh?”
Her mind had been stuck on how bouncy Lu Jinghuai’s lips looked.
She mumbled, “…Yeah, I guess.”
Once the backing was secured, Ji Nian quickly pulled away.
“Done.”
Lu Jinghuai smiled. “Thanks.”
As he watched her walk off, he stood in the shadows, expression unreadable. His fingers brushed his lips.
Had she…
Been staring here?
Or was she still thinking about that redhead?
---
Ji Nian collapsed onto her bed the second she got home after her shower.
Chen Mo was staying over tonight.
Neither had forgotten their earlier agreement, but Chen Mo seemed inclined to let her rest and talk another time.
Ji Nian, however, couldn’t wait.
She didn’t want this hanging between them, poisoning their family bond.
Right now, it wasn’t obvious. But given time? Who knew.
“Uncle, you there?”
She hugged a giant plush egg to her chest—just in case things got emotional. She could always hand it to Chen Mo for comfort.
Inside, Chen Mo had been watching a recording of the Rookie Band’s performance. At her voice, he removed his headphones.
His lips pressed together briefly, but he got up and opened the door.
Ji Nian stood there, clutching a stuffed dog, her eyes still dewy from her shower.
This expression of hers—nothing like that person from his memories.
No wonder he’d never noticed.
Then again, short of mind-reading, how would anyone figure it out?
The person from his dreams was now his niece. Could life get any more absurd?
“Come in. Want some herbal tea? Helps you sleep.”
Chen Mo gestured for her to sit, then brought over two steaming cups.
Ji Nian lifted her gaze from the curling steam, and when she looked at Chen Mo again, all traces of childish softness were gone.
In its place—
A heavy, unwavering calm.
“Long time no see…”
“Algernon.”
Even though he’d braced himself, hearing that name after so many years still sent a tremor through Chen Mo.
This world didn’t have Flowers for Algernon.
Anyone who knew that name—
Couldn’t be from here.
Chen Mo’s expression shifted, his eyes glinting with something unspoken—nostalgia, maybe.
And embarrassment.
Enough to tint the tips of his ears pink.
“…Long time no see.”
