Late at night, Autumn Ease had the same dream again—identical to yesterday’s.

Not only the setting, but every event and line of dialogue repeated exactly.

He was merely an observer, echoing last night’s words and questions, until the dream plunged once more into darkness.

"Wenwen—!" Even that final cry matched the one from that night.

Beneath the dim streetlights, most windows in the city were dark. Anyone still awake at this hour might feel a quiet peace gazing outside.

But under one flickering lamp, a girl in soiled clothes leaned against the pole, eyes closed. Clutched in her hand was the umbrella Autumn Ease had given her days ago.

She’d spent her last coins. With nowhere to go, she’d spent the night on the streets. Though autumn had arrived, the night air bit sharply—her thin clothes offered little warmth.

She drifted deeper into her own dream:

A small-town street at midnight.

Traffic lights meant nothing here; cross whenever no cars approached.

The girl sprinted through her dream, ignoring flashing signals.

Purposeful, she rounded one corner, then another—until she spotted the man standing frozen ahead.

He looked exactly like Autumn Ease.

"Wenwen!" Yet the name she screamed wasn’t his.

She lunged forward—only to grasp empty air, crashing onto the pavement.

Even in sleep, she felt the sting in her knees, a trace of blood seeping from skin scraped raw against concrete.

A slight tremble shook her, like a sob catching in her throat—then she jolted awake.

Alone in this glittering city, loneliness swallowed her whole.

She couldn’t even recall why she’d come here, or when her feet had carried her to this spot.

"Haaah—hnngh—" Wanjianlei glanced up from his game. 2 a.m.

He had work tomorrow. Even if he slept till eight, that left only six hours.

The game still hooked him, but reason won out. Time for bed.

Yawning, he shuffled to the balcony in slippers and slid the window open, breathing deep.

Night air always felt fresher—or so he told himself.

"Huh… what’s that?" His casual glance down the street snagged on a small figure curled under a streetlight. Awake or asleep, she looked fragile, utterly helpless.

Inky rain fell softly, soaking her hair and clothes. She didn’t even open her umbrella.

And she seemed… asleep.

Strange. Only utter exhaustion could make someone sleep through rain like this.

"Should I… go check?" He grabbed an umbrella by the door and hurried downstairs.

Up close, he saw her eyes were half-open—just barely conscious. At the sound of his footsteps, she weakly turned her head.

"You okay?" Wanjianlei asked, concern tightening his voice. "Why are you out here alone in the rain?"

"Mm… Lei…?" Her first word dissolved into a violent coughing fit. It lasted nearly a minute. Wanjianlei watched, heart pounding, terrified she’d choke.

"Don’t talk. You’re burning up. Come to my place—just for tonight?" He stepped closer, ignoring social norms. The back of his hand brushed her forehead. Scorching.

Her fever must be near 40°C. That was dangerous.

No time to wait for her answer. He scooped her up, held his breath, and sprinted upstairs.

She wasn’t heavy, but six flights winded him. He kicked open his half-closed door, shoes forgotten, and laid her gently on his worn sofa.

Wanjianlei lived alone—not in a rented pigeon coop like Autumn Ease, but in his traveling cousin’s apartment. The furniture was old, patches of plaster peeled from walls, but it was spacious.

Living solo meant learning to care for himself.

Unlike women—who might have admirers ready to help at a call—men had only themselves.

Not sexism. Just reality.

He dragged a first-aid kit from under the sofa. After washing and disinfecting an electronic thermometer, he placed it under her tongue.

The numbers climbed: 39.7°C. Nearly forty.

He rushed to the freezer, wrapped ice cubes in a towel, and pressed it to her forehead. Then he found antibiotics and fever reducers. Gently shaking her shoulder, he held out a glass of warm water. "Hey. Wake up. Take these, or it’ll get worse."

"Mm…" She blinked drowsily, tilted her head back to swallow the pills, then collapsed like her strength had vanished.

Thankfully, the sofa caught her.

Now Wanjianlei hesitated.

His throat went dry as he stared at her soaked clothes.

Dirt couldn’t hide her porcelain skin or the soft curves beneath her thin dress.

But leaving her wet would worsen the fever…

Was undressing her taking advantage?

"She won’t make me take responsibility, will she? …Though I wouldn’t mind that part," he murmured, tracing the teardrop mole near her eye.

"Screw it!" Teeth gritted, he reached out with his "guilty" hands…

========