When Ning Zhen saw the changed profile picture Meng Xianwen had set, confusion gave way to barely concealed surprise.
She didn't quite understand his intentions. Or to be more precise, she wanted to confirm what his intentions were.
"You..."
Just as she opened her mouth, the tightly closed elevator doors suddenly slid open. The two young women outside, pulling rolling suitcases, were startled too. Hadn't this elevator been sitting still this whole time? How was there someone inside!
Four pairs of eyes met in an awkward standoff.
Meng Xianwen had dropped the teasing, easygoing expression he'd worn with Ning Zhen just moments before. His face turned serious and composed as he tilted his head toward her and murmured, "Swipe your card for the floor."
Ning Zhen snapped back to reality.
She only now remembered that after stepping into the elevator, she'd forgotten to swipe her card, which was why the lift had been sitting on the first floor for so long without her realizing it.
She quickly swiped her room card, and the button for the ninth floor lit up.
The two young women hesitated, debating whether to step inside. When they met Ning Zhen's gaze, one of them waved her hand and gave a dry laugh. "You two go ahead first—we still need to grab something from the front desk."
Ning Zhen tried to smile naturally. "Alright, then."
The elevator doors weren't particularly soundproof. Once it climbed past the third floor, she let out a relieved sigh, squeezed her eyes shut in frustration, and complained, "This is all your fault."
Meng Xianwen was long used to her baseless accusations.
He neither confirmed nor denied it, his gaze drifting downward to the slippers on her feet, which were clearly several sizes too big. "Have you eaten?"
That was just how Ning Zhen was. When they were in a fight, she could be as stubborn as they came. But the moment there was any sign of reconciliation, she turned into the most wronged person on earth, eager for everyone to fuss over her—pouring out every hardship she'd been through, and inventing a few more for good measure.
"No!" she said. "We were fighting. Did you really think I'd have an appetite?"
A faint, indescribable feeling flickered through Meng Xianwen's chest.
He did feel sorry for her, yes, but there was also a sliver of comfort in it. People caught up in a relationship always kept a tally of gains and losses. No one wanted to be the only one left restless and miserable while the other side went on happily, utterly unbothered.
"What do you want to eat?" He glanced at his watch. "I'll have something sent up."
"It's too late."
Ning Zhen wasn't hungry at all. Then, after a moment's thought, she pressed further, "You haven't eaten either, have you?"
Meng Xianwen's expression relaxed, and he gave a small nod.
Since she'd gotten out of the car, he'd only had half a bottle of water.
"Really?"
Ning Zhen pressed her lips together, looking as though she felt sorry for him. Only she knew that yes, there was a little pity—but not much.
What harm was one missed meal for a grown man?
All that listlessness she'd been feeling these past few days, all that sulking she'd done at the hotel—if he wasn't affected in the slightest, still cool and collected, still managing things neatly, how was that fair?
When she was miserable, she wanted him to be miserable too, even more so.
Otherwise, she simply wouldn't accept it.
"Then order whatever you want," she said softly. "Don't worry about me. I missed my window for hunger—can't eat now."
Meng Xianwen hummed in acknowledgment.
The elevator stopped on the ninth floor, and he guided her out, one arm around her though she was still acting a little prickly.
She'd booked a room at a chain hotel. To be fair, Meng Xianwen knew her well—within two or three kilometers there were five-star hotels, but since she was already staying at a hotel and tomorrow was Monday, she prioritized convenience over comfort.
She'd gotten a king room, about thirty square meters, with completely standard decor. Yet as Meng Xianwen stepped inside, he frowned in mild disapproval.
"Just now, Shu Wei asked me about your profile picture."
The door clicked shut, and Ning Zhen got straight to the point.
Meng Xianwen was inspecting the room; noticing the window had been pushed open, he strolled over. It was the last days of June and the start of July, and North City's heat grew more oppressive by the day. "What profile picture?"
Still playing dumb!
Ning Zhen perked up and hurried over to the window to stand beside him, shoving her phone in front of his face, tapping the screen with her fingernail. "Your WeChat profile picture, obviously! What else could it be?"
She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Don't tell me you have other social media accounts I don't know about?"
Meng Xianwen gave her a look but didn't dignify her second, ridiculous guess with a response. "Before I answer that, you first tell me—what's with that new nickname you changed to?"
Ning Zhen was caught off guard.
How was she supposed to answer that?
Was she supposed to admit that she'd been so furious, so completely livid, that the only way she could vent was through some sneaky, underhanded method like that?
She could already imagine the look he'd give her. So she played dumb. "What nickname?"
The words were barely out of her mouth when she met his gaze, and in that instant, it clicked—his response echoed hers. They both saw through each other's little act.
She'd changed her nickname for him.
He'd changed his profile picture for her.
Whether angry or annoyed, it was all because of the other person.
For some reason, this small gesture pleased her even more than him showing up at the hotel. Didn't it mean he actually liked that cactus she'd given him? Otherwise, his careful nature would never let him swap out his dear "godson" Qiansui for a cactus as his profile picture.
"Then I'll just reply however I want?"
"Mm."
Meng Xianwen reached over and closed the window. He did a quick sweep of the room before settling onto the sofa. Pulling out his phone, unsurprisingly, there were more nosy people in this world than he'd imagined—several of them had messaged him asking about his profile picture. He skimmed past all of them and said in a gentle tone, "Even if you have no appetite, you still have to eat something—"
Suddenly, his gaze stopped.
In the trash can by the table were a few used tissues, stained with patches of brown ranging in shade, plus a few pieces of salmon roe stuck to them. Estimating what she must have eaten for dinner, he let out a laugh—thoroughly exasperated.
She really was something.
Call her clever, and she'd tell the most paper-thin lies. Call her clueless, and she'd nonetheless wriggle out of anything with grace and wit.
"How about something light?"
Ning Zhen wasn't looking at him, still bantering with Shu Wei on her phone. Gone was the fuming fury of an hour ago, when she'd wanted to destroy the whole world. Now she was all smiles, practically floating on pink bubbles. "Nothing hot, and nothing spicy."
She stole a quick glance at him. He'd bitten her gently—she'd bitten him hard. On reflection, he really hadn't eaten much today.
Meng Xianwen tapped his phone screen, his voice calm. "Then you order."
"Okay." Her lips curved up. "You lazy thing."
She stepped closer and reached for his phone, but he pulled it back with a quick tug—before she knew it, the world spun and she landed on his lap. She nearly had a heart attack, bracing a hand against his shoulder in panic. "What are you doing!" He looked at her in silence for a moment, saying nothing, then cradled the back of her head and kissed her.
Caught off guard, Ning Zhen initially tried to squirm away, but he teased her lips apart and deepened the kiss, his tongue intertwining with hers.
The hungry kiss didn't last long. Laughter drifted in from the hallway—guests on this floor—and someone had left their door open, a blaring TV adding to the noise. It did admittedly kill the mood.
Meng Xianwen didn't push further, his lips still brushing against hers. "Get your things together. It's late—let's go home."
Home? The word jolted Ning Zhen back to clarity. She pushed his face away, still breathless. "I'm not going back. I paid for this room." Then, reigniting old anger, she added, "And you went on a mad spending spree today, renting out three hotel rooms!"
How dared he lose his mind on her credit card?
All the ambiguous feelings between them had dissipated into thin air.
“You should go stay there too!”
She tried to stand up, but he pressed her back down. “You really want to sleep here for the night?”
“No kidding, I paid for it!”
Meng Xianwen gazed at her for a moment, wearing the helpless expression of someone who had no idea what to do with her. His hands rested on her waist, and after a long moment of deliberation, he finally lowered his head. “Alright, the place is close to Shensheng, so you can sleep in an extra forty minutes tomorrow morning. Is there breakfast?”
“I think so. The front desk mentioned it, service starts at seven.”
Sure, the complimentary breakfast at a chain hotel was mediocre and the selection limited, but getting an extra forty minutes of sleep on a Monday morning—that was pure bliss!
“Or should I have the restaurant send something up?” he asked.
“No need, that’s too much trouble.” Ning Zhen knew it wasn’t realistic to expect Meng Xianwen to go use one of those three rooms he’d booked. “Forget it, I won’t hold it against you. It’s getting late, you should head out first.”
Remembering he hadn’t had dinner, she added, “When you order food, don’t order any for me.”
Meaning: hurry back, eat something, and get some sleep.
“What about your toiletries?” he mused, noticing she was still in her daytime clothes. “You haven’t prepared anything. How are you supposed to sleep comfortably here?”
All of Ning Zhen’s bad mood had completely washed away.
No wonder people said arguing wasn’t necessarily a bad thing—after a fight, his patience and tolerance toward her went way up, making her feel light as air. That lightness made her want to tell him so many things. She bounced up and headed toward the bathroom.
“You’re always having this person or that person deliver things—how about next time we race to see who’s faster, you or a delivery rider?”
She seemed determined to say everything she hadn’t been able to say all night.
But as she talked, she realized he wasn’t just not responding—he hadn’t followed her to the bathroom either.
Ning Zhen put down the travel toiletries kit she’d bought and poked her head out. She saw Meng Xianwen standing with his back to her, in front of the tea cabinet. She assumed he was thirsty and looking for water, so she said casually, “I think the room has a mini-fridge, see if there’s something in there—”
She stopped mid-sentence, her gaze freezing, fixed on the box in his hands.
The atmosphere suddenly fell into an eerie silence.
Ning Zhen didn’t have time to be embarrassed. With quick reflexes, she snatched it from him and hid it behind her back. Her ears burned, but she refused to show weakness in front of him. She cleared her throat and said with a straight face, “Don’t just grab things—that’s hotel property. And if you’re thirsty... drink those two bottles of water over there, they’re free.”
Meng Xianwen slowly turned to look at her, his expression strange.
His voice was low, laced with a subtle note of disdain and pickiness: “What kind of sketchy hotel is this?”
“Oh, just go back!” Ning Zhen tossed the box onto the bed, grabbed a bottle of water, shoved it into his chest, and pushed him hard toward the door. When they reached the doorway, she threw out a “See you tomorrow” and slammed the door shut.
She leaned against the door, catching her breath, and pressed her ear to it to eavesdrop on the hallway.
Ten minutes or so passed, her legs going numb from standing. She quietly pressed down the door handle, cracked the door open an inch—the corridor was empty. He was gone.
Ning Zhen pouted, closed the door, stretched, and walked a few steps back into the room before flopping onto the bed. The box dug into her side. She picked it up and studied it out of curiosity. Of course she’d seen these before—they were stacked all over the checkout shelves at the supermarket—but she’d always just glanced past them.
After examining it for a bit, she lost interest. It wasn’t like it was something she’d use. She tossed it onto the nightstand.
On the other side, Meng Xianwen strode briskly out of the elevator, swiped his fingerprint to unlock the door. When he was in a hurry, he treated all messages equally—including the “Did you make it?” text Ning Zhen had sent two minutes ago. He ignored it.
After a quick shower, wearing only a towel draped around his waist, his gaze swept past the bathroom counter, and for a few brief seconds, he was lost in thought.
There were her little jars and bottles, the two mouthwash cups sitting side by side, his shaving cream.
Before he knew it, this entire place was filled with traces of the life they’d built together.
…
Ning Zhen tossed and turned in bed, unable to fall asleep.
She was strangely restless. One moment she’d check if Meng Xianwen had replied to her message, the next she’d save his profile picture to her photo album—an utterly unattractive image, and yet she found herself staring at it with delight.
Really!
If she’d known he was going to use that cactus as his avatar, she would have found the perfect angle and sent him the best one out of dozens.
She buried her face in the pillow and laughed softly.
Her thoughts wandered in a hundred directions, and a flicker of doubt crept in—did making up this easily make her look too easy to win over?
Ding-ding.
A WeChat notification pulled Ning Zhen out of her jumble of thoughts. She flipped over her phone and saw the message from Meng Xianwen: [Made it]
She shot up in bed with a jolt, both hands gripping the phone, ready to type out a complaint about why he’d replied so late. But just as she did, close to midnight, a knock came at the door—short and heavy.
Ning Zhen’s heart tightened.
In the chat window, a new message had appeared.
Meng Xianwen: [Don’t be scared. It’s me.]
