With no destination in mind, their path stayed undecided. Night deepened; the wind sharpened. They ducked into a fast-food joint, seeking shelter.

Seven o’clock—the evening buzz was just heating up. Street vendors sent savory smoke curling into the air. Seated by the large glass window, they watched pedestrians flow past.

Light from inside and out washed over them, reflecting faintly on the glass to reveal their slightly melancholic expressions.

Chen Dao ordered a large "pineapple and char siu combo Italian pizza"—a distinctly local creation.

Xia Jiuli chose black pepper spaghetti, though her portion looked tiny, nowhere near dinner-sized.

Naturally, after finishing, she glanced his way. Ever perceptive, Chen Dao plucked one slice each of char siu and pineapple and placed them on her now-empty plate.

"Come to think of it… it’s kinda uncanny," Chen Dao murmured, watching Xia Jiuli chew quickly. This moment felt almost too surreal.

In his past life, Xia Jiuli had been aloof, detached—seemingly untouched by worldly concerns.

Now? She felt like an ordinary girl.

Maybe this was her true self all along—a side no one had ever given her space to show.

"You never made me feel this at ease before," he said.

This rare solitude let them observe each other closely. Though their two days cohabiting at Xinchi felt like yesterday, the atmosphere now was entirely different.

"Hm?"

She lifted her head slowly, a trace of tomato sauce lingering at the corner of her mouth. Against her fair skin, that splash of red looked unexpectedly cute.

"But you never made *me* feel comfortable either…"

"Huh?"

"Seriously? You were either skipping class or getting too drunk at parties—leaving me stressed every single time."

Seeing his confusion, she prepared to detail how, in their past life, he’d left her alone at their shared desk for four years while roommates teased her for over three.

Chen Dao’s attendance had been scarce. Only his undeniable entrepreneurial success—and securing a coal magnate’s donation for a campus pool—had spared him expulsion.

But just as she geared up to "condemn" him, she caught herself. A passing waiter had been staring; only after her explanation did he nervously carry the tray to the next table.

"I didn’t mean it like that—don’t misunderstand. I was just stating a fact… that you weren’t by my side back then."

She wasn’t flustered. Calmly swallowing the last bite, she met his eyes.

Clearer now. No suspicion. No murky schemes. No weary disdain for the world.

"I feel like you’re saying that on purpose—"

Chen Dao turned away slightly, guilt flickering across his face as he swallowed the lukewarm pizza.

Fast-food pizza wasn’t meant to impress—just fill you up. Right now, he *wished* it tasted worse, so he could complain and break the tension.

If they were just seventeen, with no rebirth memories… maybe they’d already be dreaming of the future. Distance wouldn’t matter. He’d chase her anywhere.

But now? Xia Jiuli was rational. Sharp.

She knew his ambition outweighed his youthful looks. Knew past-heartbreak caution drove his kindness—a goodwill from a fellow reborn soul.

If only *he* had been reborn? If she hadn’t returned, hadn’t ended up at Xinchi? He wouldn’t have glanced her way.

She held that blind certainty.

Because in his past-life eyes, she’d weighed nothing.

If his heartbreak over Bai Qiaoqiao had sealed his heart in concrete, her own rush to end her life post-university—and her silence—were part of the reason too.

This stalemate—moving forward felt wrong, stepping back felt worse—was born of their shared immaturity.

Emotions were a profound exam. Chen Dao had failed last time. Xia Jiuli never showed up. Neither knew the question format.

Unless she could separate gratitude from genuine feeling, she wouldn’t take the step.

But the anthem of humanity is the anthem of courage. Without trying, how could she know if she was truly stuck at the "round of 16"?

"Then… what if I say it’s true?"

Her gaze fled to the window, landing on a clothing store display across the street.

"What? Teasing your good friend is *that* fun?"

Chen Dao tossed out his rehearsed reply the instant she opened her mouth, then feigned nonchalance while picking crumbs from his plate.

Leaving nothing behind was his habit. Wasting food was never right.

"Then how did this *good friend* travel eight hundred kilometers to get here?"

A soft smile touched her lips. In the glass reflection, relief softened her features. She cupped her chin lightly, leaning forward just a little.

Innocence and allure—two shades of the same face. Right now, she made Chen Dao feel distinctly flustered.

"Don’t mention it. Because of this, I’m still in debt. Gotta figure out how to win them over—"

Compared to Xia Jiuli’s ease, Chen Dao faltered. He’d never imagined feeling awkward around her.

*Is she really playing dumb to outsmart me? When did she learn to handle me like this?*

"Borrowing money’s bad! Wait… you don’t mean—"

*You came all this way, willing to owe debts and favors… just for me?*

She almost voiced it—but stopped. Chen Dao rarely got to be the hero. Popping that bubble would be utterly charmless.

"Eh… fine. Let’s just eat!"

A faint blush dusted her cheeks. This long-awaited sweetness filled her with quiet contentment.

"Hey! Why do you always leave things hanging?"

"Are you a cliffhanger addict or what?!"