(Sixteen and Eighteen)
June 6th.
Jiang Suizhi was about to take the college entrance exams, so Jiang Yan had temporarily put aside his work at the company and driven home early.
He had attended university abroad but returned to China for graduate school. Though the semester hadn’t started yet, he had already spent several years at the company learning management under his father. Since coming back, he had practically lived at the office.
Glancing at his father in the passenger seat—who had insisted on leaving work early with him—Jiang Yan sighed. "He won’t even talk to you if you go back."
Jiang Hechang kept a stern face. "Who said I’m going back to talk to him? I just don’t have much work today, so I’m heading home early to rest."
"...Sure."
After Jiang Yan had secretly tracked down his younger brother, it hadn’t taken long for him to approach their father about bringing Jiang Suizhi home.
Back then, he had believed no obstacle was too great for a family to overcome together. Having a younger brother at home would also ease some of the pressure on him. At first, Jiang Hechang had vehemently opposed the idea.
Confused, Jiang Yan had gotten into his first major fight with the family over it, even running away from home for several days and staying at his brother’s tiny apartment.
It wasn’t until his aunt at the time intervened as a mediator that things changed.
After she left, Jiang Suizhi had casually asked a few questions about the Jiang family, then abruptly changed his mind and agreed to return with Jiang Yan.
It wasn’t until two years later, when his aunt’s true nature was exposed, that Jiang Yan finally understood why his brother had been so insistent on coming home.
Back then, the fifteen-year-old had simply said, "Because you’re too naive."
Once Jiang Hechang learned his younger son was willing to return, his resistance softened. But even after Jiang Suizhi came home, the relationship between the two remained lukewarm—so much so that in a year, Jiang Suizhi wouldn’t even call him "Father" once.
Still, Jiang Yan was content.
Since his brother’s return, the atmosphere at home had shifted. Having grown up alone, Jiang Suizhi didn’t bother with pleasantries—he spoke bluntly, acted on his own terms, and ignored the family’s rigid rules. His unfiltered honesty often left the rest of the family, so used to wearing masks, speechless. But in doing so, he brought a raw authenticity they had long lacked.
After transferring schools, Jiang Suizhi had ended up at the same one as Jiang Yan, allowing him to commute daily with the Le sisters.
The Jiang household, once dominated by men, now had two sweet, soft-spoken girls in the mix. The younger of the two, Le Qing, was especially adored—with her gentle words and delicate looks, the elders doted on her, often speaking to her in softer tones.
Whenever Le Qing visited, the entire family would gather. The old patriarch had even prepared a room for her and Le Yang—a pink, princess-themed space where they could stay overnight on weekends if they were too tired to go home.
Over the years, the Jiang family’s atmosphere had subtly transformed into something strangely harmonious.
Take now, for example. Jiang Hechang had his own car and driver, yet here he was, stubbornly hitching a ride with Jiang Yan just to check on his younger son the day before his exams.
Jiang Yan didn’t bother calling him out.
As the car pulled through the gates, they spotted Le Qing gliding toward them on a skateboard, a small crossbody bag slung over her shoulder.
Jiang Yan rolled down the window. "Qingqing?"
"Brother Yan!" She turned at the sound of his voice. "You’re back!"
"Just you?" He glanced around. "You skated all the way here?"
"Yep!" She braked smoothly, flipping the board up into her hand. "It’s nice out—good for exercise."
"Look at you, all sweaty." Jiang Hechang chided, though his tone was uncharacteristically gentle. "Get in."
Le Qing stuck out her tongue playfully before climbing into the backseat with her skateboard.
"Where’s your sister?" Jiang Yan asked.
"She’s at an international debate competition—not back yet." Le Qing adjusted her bag, puzzled. "I thought you knew? Don’t you two call every day?"
Instantly, Jiang Hechang shot his eldest son a sharp glare. Jiang Yan cleared his throat. "The time difference makes it tricky. Didn’t want to disturb her rest before the competition."
Jiang Hechang scoffed. "If you know that, stop bothering such a good girl."
Jiang Yan clicked his tongue. "I’m not that bad."
"Self-awareness is a virtue."
"..."
Le Qing leaned forward from the backseat, defending him. "Uncle, Brother Yan is really outstanding. My sister praises him all the time in front of me."
Instead of easing the tension, her words only darkened Jiang Hechang’s expression further.
Rubbing his temples, Jiang Yan changed the subject. "Here to see Suizhi?"
"Mm! I came to cheer him on!" She patted her bag proudly. "I’ve got a secret weapon for victory."
Many at their school had chosen to study abroad instead of taking the college entrance exams, but no matter how academically gifted Jiang Suizhi was, he had never considered that path.
Jiang Yan suspected it was because of the girl in the backseat. The two were inseparable—far beyond ordinary friends. His younger brother’s possessiveness over Le Qing was especially glaring. He had never bothered to curb those tendencies, allowing only her to stay by his side.
A single day without seeing her, and his mood turned foul.
With that in mind, how could Jiang Suizhi ever agree to study overseas? He’d rather spend extra time self-studying the domestic exam material than be apart from Le Qing.
Maybe in a few years, if Le Qing wanted to go abroad, he’d reconsider.
At that thought, Jiang Yan glanced back at her.
She was sixteen now, her figure beginning to blossom, her features refined into an elegant beauty. Since middle school, she’d apparently been receiving letters and gifts from boys both local and international.
Without exception, his brother had intercepted every single one.
The girl’s eyes still held that same innocent, clueless spark as she clung to Jiang Suizhi’s side, completely unaware.
As for his brother…
Jiang Yan raised a brow inwardly. That one was definitely plotting something.
Pulling into the garage, he retrieved a large box from the trunk.
"Need help, Brother Yan?" Le Qing craned her neck curiously. "What’s that?"
"Custom banners." He opened the box to show her—inside were not just banners but string lights too. "I’ll set them up after his exams as a surprise."
Her sharp eyes caught the oversized photo frame tucked inside.
She had a bad feeling about this. Although her sister often praised Jiang Yan, she had also scolded him plenty—like how he was always obsessed with weird little projects. Right now, she was convinced this photo frame was one of those questionable things.
Le Qing flipped the frame over and saw a passport-style photo of Jiang Suizhi—probably cropped from his student ID by Jiang Yan, then enlarged and processed, though it looked a bit blurry.
“This…” Le Qing hesitated. “Where are you putting it?”
“On the wall, obviously.” Jiang Yan casually grabbed a string of fairy lights and wrapped them around the frame as a demonstration. “Haven’t you seen those unboxing videos online? Kids these day love putting photos on top of raffia grass with little lights for ~aesthetic vibes~. I even made an extra-large version—it’ll be a huge surprise.”
“It’s… nice,” Le Qing said, though something felt off. “But it’s kind of veering into the afterlife aesthetic. I think Suizhi-ge might fight you.”
“Mm.” A voice, cool and detached, came from behind them. Neither had noticed when Jiang Suizhi had arrived. “Jiang Yan, if you hang that on the wall, the photo inside will be replaced with your own black-and-white portrait.”
Jiang Yan quickly snapped the box shut. “When did you get here? Say something next time!”
“And miss out on your little project?” Jiang Suizhi beckoned to Le Qing. “Come here.”
Without hesitation, Le Qing scooped up her skateboard and sidled over to him.
Jiang Suizhi naturally took the skateboard from her, then brushed his fingers against her wrist before lacing them with hers. “Don’t play with him too much.”
“You little—” Jiang Yan, still holding the box, laughed in exasperation. “Who was the one who rushed back first thing to cheer you on?”
Jiang Suizhi’s reply was ice-cold: “Throw that box away before you come back.”
Jiang Yan: “……”
But in the end, he couldn’t bring himself to toss out the things he’d painstakingly bought. If Jiang Suizhi didn’t appreciate it, someone else would. Maybe he could use it for Le Yang’s debate competition celebration instead.
He’d just have to swap out the photo.
No big deal—his phone was full of pictures of Le Yang anyway.
As he stuffed the box back into the trunk, Jiang Yan finally noticed their father sitting ignored in the car.
Jiang Hechang was currently deep in thought, watching his youngest son and Le Qing walk away hand in hand.
“Jiang Yan,” he called.
“Yeah?”
Jiang Hechang frowned. “Is it normal for kids your age to hold hands like that?”
It made sense when they were little, but Jiang Suizhi was almost eighteen now. What was he doing holding a girl’s hand like that?!
“How should I know?” Jiang Yan grinned. “If you’re curious, go ask him yourself.”
Jiang Hechang glared.
Always picking the worst time to joke.
Meanwhile, once they were inside the elevator, Le Qing gave a slight tug at her hand.
Jiang Suizhi glanced down. “Hm?”
“I have something for you.” She pulled free and rummaged through her small crossbody bag before producing a talisman strung on a red cord. “Mom took me to the temple to get this. I told the monk your name—it’s for good luck.”
Jiang Suizhi studied the talisman for two seconds before smiling. “Things are already going pretty well for me.”
Better than he’d ever dared hope.
“That’s not the point.” Le Qing rose onto her tiptoes to loop the cord around his neck.
Jiang Suizhi obediently bent his head to accommodate her. The faint scent of her perfume drifted over as she moved, and his throat tightened, his fingertips tingling with the urge to pull her closer.
“This is my blessing for you,” she said, patting the talisman against his chest once it was secured. “So your luck will be even better. You’re definitely going to ace your exams.”
Jiang Suizhi lowered his gaze, his dark eyes reflecting her earnest expression. He chuckled softly. “Okay.”
The elevator doors opened, and he led her straight to his room.
The Jiang family home was spacious—the fourth floor had only two rooms, his and Jiang Yan’s, laid out like a suite.
Le Qing headed straight for his study, settling into his usual chair and unloading her bag onto the desk.
Jiang Suizhi shut the door behind them, locking it before strolling over to her.
The once-neat desk was now cluttered with an assortment of items, from snacks to stationery.
“These are special exam supplies—blessed by a master. You can use them tomorrow.”
“These are cookies I made with Auntie. The molds are shaped like ‘100’ for extra buffs.”
She kept pulling things out as she explained: “I checked the weather. It’ll be sunny, but I packed an umbrella just in case. I’ll be waiting outside for you afterward, so don’t worry.”
“This is a card holder for your exam slip, so you won’t forget it.”
“And this—”
Her sister had skipped the gaokao to study abroad, so Le Qing had always regretted not being able to send her off for exams.
Now, she finally had her chance.
She was practically fussing like a mother hen.
“I asked around—there’s nothing to stress about,” she said seriously. “It’s easier than the practice tests, and the process is straightforward. Plus, you’re amazing at everything.”
When Jiang Suizhi didn’t respond, she finally looked up.
He was leaning against the desk, one hand braced on the surface, watching her with an unreadable expression.
Le Qing blinked. “Am I being too naggy?”
She remembered him complaining about Jiang Yan’s chatterbox tendencies before.
“No.” His lips curved. “Keep going. I’m listening.”
But now that she’d been put on the spot, all the tips she’d prepared flew out of her head. Her cheeks warmed. “I… need to think.”
Jiang Suizhi tapped her forehead. “Who’s the nervous one here?”
Le Qing wrinkled her nose. “Details matter.”
Then, deflating, she added, “But you’ve always been more meticulous than me.”
Growing up, he’d been the one taking care of her. Now, trying to reverse roles, she felt like she was just playing pretend.
With a sigh, she started gathering the items back into her bag. He’d probably already prepared everything anyway.
Halfway through, Jiang Suizhi’s hand—which had been resting on the desk—covered hers, stopping her. “Since when do people take back gifts?”
“You must already have all this,” Le Qing mumbled. “Grandpa and Jiang Yan would’ve gotten them for you.”
That’s true—Jiang Suizhi had already received several sets of stationery. As Jiang Yan put it, having extra didn’t matter; he could use one set per exam.
The old man was even more superstitious than his children, insisting on preparing a fresh set of clothes for each subject too.
“I have enough,” Jiang Suizhi nodded, yet still didn’t let go, adding, “But I’d rather have yours.”
Call him cold-hearted if you will, but before these relatives appeared, his world had only ever had room for one person—the kid.
So she would always come first.
Le Qing pressed her lips together lightly but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at them.
Just then, her phone on the table rang. Both of them saw the caller ID—a boy from their class.
The room fell silent for a few seconds, filled only with the ringtone. Jiang Suizhi nudged the phone toward her with his other hand. “I remember this one.”
“The one who gave you chocolates,” he said slowly.
Le Qing’s brows furrowed slightly. Even back in elementary school—no, since kindergarten—she’d often received little toys or snacks from classmates. Now that she’d moved up to the high school division of their international school, where rules were looser than in public schools, the gifts had only multiplied.
But she hardly ever got to keep them. First, because she didn’t want to accept them.
Second, because every single time, without fail, Jiang Suizhi would happen to show up and handle it for her.
Seeing her hesitate, Jiang Suizhi asked, “Not answering?”
“I don’t want to talk to him,” Le Qing said. “It’s nothing important anyway.”
“I see.” He nodded, then picked up her phone. “Then I’ll answer for you.”
With that, he swiped to accept the call and turned on speakerphone.
The boy’s voice immediately spilled out: “Qingqing, you weren’t at school today? Are you sick? Is it serious? I can come over to check on you.”
Unlike regular high schools, international schools weren’t requisitioned as national exam venues, so they didn’t get days off.
Jiang Suizhi had known at first glance that the kid had made up an excuse to skip—she’d never ditch class on her own.
But her so-called brothers, sisters, and cousins? Every single one of them had played hooky before, so no one would scold her. They’d even cover for her.
Clearly, this was her first time fabricating a reason to leave, because her face flushed almost instantly. Jiang Suizhi smirked and replied to the caller, “No need.”
The voice on the other end stuttered to a halt before stammering, “Wh-who are you?”
“I’m with Qingqing. Who do you think I am?” Jiang Suizhi deliberately drew out the name “Qingqing” slowly.
The boy’s tone shifted, turning strained. “Jiang Suizhi?”
The name dredged up memories of handmade chocolates tossed unceremoniously into the trash.
The whole school knew Le Qing had a childhood friend who shadowed her everywhere. The two were inseparable, yet no one could quite define their relationship.
Jiang Suizhi ignored almost everyone and never interfered in Le Qing’s social life—but no matter who approached her, he was always there, his presence looming large, his dark eyes pinning people down under an unshakable weight.
And Le Qing? She indulged him without question.
The boy’s voice turned sulky. “Fine. I’ll call back later.”
“She won’t have time for you today,” Jiang Suizhi said flatly. “Or ever.”
“Why? You’re just her friend. What gives you the right to decide for her?”
“The fact that I can answer her phone.” Jiang Suizhi traced light circles over the back of the small hand still tucked under his palm, his gaze unreadable. “The fact that she’d skip school for me. The fact that she’s right here beside me.”
The boy had no retort.
“Blocked.” Jiang Suizhi hung up without waiting for a response.
But despite his words, he didn’t actually block the number yet. Instead, he studied the girl before him. “Can I block him?”
Le Qing thought for a moment, then nodded slightly. It didn’t matter to her either way.
Jiang Suizhi moved swiftly, decisive as ever.
Once done, he looked up at the girl, who still seemed unfazed, and sighed softly. “When will you grow up?”
“I already have,” Le Qing straightened, defensive. “I’ve even gotten taller. I’m a sophomore now.”
Jiang Suizhi arched a brow. “Oh?”
“Yeah.”
“Then do you know why he called you? Why he gave you chocolates?”
Le Qing answered without hesitation. “He said he likes me.”
“And do you know what ‘like’ means?”
That gave her pause. After a beat, she frowned slightly. “Liking someone is just… liking them.”
Those boys said they liked her because she was pretty.
Because she was outstanding.
Because she had a good personality.
But if she had to define it? She couldn’t. She liked plenty of people too—her parents, her siblings, Jiang Suizhi.
She gave them gifts as well, but it wasn’t the same as with those boys.
Maybe because she didn’t consider those boys friends.
That’s what she told herself.
Jiang Suizhi chuckled, his eyes brimming with amusement. “And this is what you call ‘grown up’?”
“Then what is it?”
This time, he didn’t answer. Instead, he watched her quietly for a few seconds before suddenly lifting their still-joined hands. He turned his wrist, cradling her hand atop his palm.
His fingertip brushed over the tiny mole on her wrist, then released her.
Le Qing’s hand dropped back to the table. Confused, she met his gaze—only to find something darker, heavier, simmering in his eyes.
Jiang Suizhi leaned in, bracing against the table, his focus locked onto her face.
“It’s wanting to hold your hand… but not being able to.”
In that instant, Le Qing’s heart lurched violently—for no reason at all.
She stared at him, dazed, sensing that something about him had shifted.
“Understand now?” Jiang Suizhi’s eyes curved faintly as he murmured her name, soft as a breath: “Qingqing.”
