Su Liumeng accepted the still-warm dagger. A stronger, lingering trace of fragrance seemed to cling to it.
Her eyes widened even more, and the way she looked at me was like she was staring at some alien lifeform.
“You… you keep this dagger in your skirt every night when you sleep?”
“Uh.” I was briefly at a loss. “Well, not just at night…”
Su Liumeng exhaled a bit in relief—only to hear me continue, wheezing between every word,
“Actually… I carry it with me… even when I go out.”
Su Liumeng gripped the hilt tightly.
“You seriously aren’t afraid of cutting yourself?!”
“No more carrying it,” she ordered firmly.
Then, as if to emphasize her point, she tucked the dagger away.
“Confiscated.”
“Ah—!” I reached toward her dramatically in protest, my tone full of despair.
“Give me back my dagger!”
“It has a sheath! How could I cut myself?”
Su Liumeng’s expression turned stern again. She hid whatever emotion had flashed across her face and took on a lecturing tone instead.
“And what if the sheath comes off? What then? One slip and you’re bleeding. Even if you don’t think about yourself, you should at least think about the baby.”
I lowered my head, like I’d resigned myself to fate.
“Okay…”
I—
I just wanted to protect myself, that’s all.
Now that Su Liumeng was here, I really didn’t need to protect myself anymore.
Since that’s the case… I might as well give it to her.
Su Liumeng clutched the dagger tightly, barely able to hide the little thoughts running through her mind, then quickly walked out of my bedroom.
“Hurry and get changed. Eat something too—we still have class this afternoon!”
Thud—
The door beside me slammed shut with a loud thud. I stood up from the chair and looked down at the now-empty space beneath my skirt. For the first time, I felt… a little out of place.
“Mommy, I told you. You shouldn’t be stuffing weird things under your skirt,” Si Zhiruo mumbled in agreement. Even her gaze toward Su Liumeng looked a lot more approving now.
“What’s weird about it?” I reflexively retorted.
“Forget it.” My lips pouted suddenly. A strange heaviness crept over my mood. “I can’t do this, can’t do that…”
“It just feels like there are fewer and fewer things I’m allowed to do.”
“Mommy, be careful when you go out. Try to wear something looser, okay? You’ve already got a little belly.”
Si Zhiruo reminded me, “It’s not that obvious yet, but still… just be a little mindful.”
“Mm, I know.”
“I’m not a child. Of course I know how to be careful.”
Lowering my head, I couldn’t quite see my belly properly. So I walked over to the bathroom mirror.
The girl in the reflection had delicate, captivating features. The slight swell of her belly added a tender, alluring charm to her originally youthful and adorable face. She looked like a perfect mix between an angel and a succubus—every movement she made seemed to tug at the heartstrings.
At the dining table, Su Liumeng sat with a calm, unreadable gaze—as if nothing in the world could stir her emotions.
I ate my rice in silence, occasionally sneaking glances at her.
Su Liumeng finally put down her chopsticks and couldn’t help asking, “Why do you keep staring at me?”
Seriously? Just a couple of glances and I already got caught.
I responded awkwardly, “Uh, I just wanted to ask… what classes do we have this afternoon again?”
“You’ve got a core course for your Applied Chemistry major, and an elective,” Su Liumeng answered smoothly, not even needing to check the schedule—it was like she had it memorized.
“An elective?” I was baffled. “I didn’t sign up for any electives. The registration period’s long over—how am I still in an elective?”
Electives had to be chosen even before the military training at the start of the semester.
Back then, I was completely distracted with goofing off. I didn’t check a single group chat. By the time I finally opened the freshman group messages, all that was left were scraps—useless courses like tea appreciation, flower arranging, wellness classes… Basically, nothing I even remotely wanted to take. So I just gave up and ignored the whole thing.
Su Liumeng replied calmly, “I signed you up.”
The corner of my mouth twitched silently. “Wow. How thoughtful of you.”
She handed me my course schedule.
Two classes in the afternoon stared back at me: Organic Chemistry… and an elective titled Introduction to Tea Arts.
I’d picked Applied Chemistry as my major—meaning I still had to deal with Inorganic and Analytical Chemistry, Advanced Mathematics, and Physics down the line. Enough to make any outsider feel completely overwhelmed and in over their head.
*****
I stopped Su Liumeng at the door.
“No need to walk me out. I know you’re busy. Go do your own thing. It’s just a class, not like it’s hard. It’s not like I’m some helpless cripple who can’t even walk. There’s no reason for someone to babysit me just to get from point A to B.”
Maybe I overemphasized it a bit, but Su Liumeng finally relented and stayed at the door. She raised her phone toward me.
“Be careful on the way.”
“Focus in class.”
“Call me if anything happens.”
Wearing a flowing, fairy-like dress, I didn’t look back at her. I just waved vaguely behind me, the delicate hair clip in my black hair glittering under the sun.
“Got it!”
Muttering under my breath about how naggy she was, I boarded the school bus waiting outside the villa community.
Beiqing University’s campus was ridiculously big. If I actually had to walk to class every day, I swear my short legs would give out.
The drafty old school bus rattled along. I took a seat in the very back and stared at my pitch-black phone screen, not showing even a hint of the annoyance I’d just expressed about her being “naggy.”
I’d only brought a tiny purse with me when I left—just the essentials like some tissues and a generic sunscreen. After spacing out for a while, I stuffed my phone into the bag, listened to nearby students chatting, and tilted my head to look up at the clouds in the sky.
“Mommy.”
“You didn’t bring your books…”
In my mind, Si Zhiruo raised her tiny hand and quietly added the reminder.
“Huh? I forgot my books!?” I froze. My first instinct was to grab my phone and ask Su Liumeng how she could’ve forgotten to pack them for me.
Then I stopped myself.
She’s not even mine. Why should she be the one to remember every little thing for me?
My tense body suddenly relaxed.
My head drooped a little, out of nowhere.
Am I… becoming too dependent on Su Liumeng?
Is that really a good thing?
I pressed my lips together, fingers absentmindedly twisting the hem of my skirt. My mood suddenly dipped into a strange melancholy.
Su Liumeng really was the kind of person who made others feel safe relying on her. Whether it was the way she took care of everyday details or how she handled everything, big and small, so seamlessly—it was like water that nourished everything quietly and invisibly. You didn’t even realize it until you were already used to her presence.
Ding-dong—
A message from Shangguan Xiyue.
[You forgot your books. I’ll be passing by your department soon—I’ll drop them off for you.]
This time, I was sure of it.
Su Liumeng and Shangguan Xiyue had been in touch all along. And not just occasionally—probably way more often than I ever imagined.
What do they usually talk about?
Was it about me? Or… something else?
My tiny hands clenched into a ball.
Just like my heart right now—tangled and tight. I really wanted to know, but I didn’t want to ask Su Liumeng directly.
Because I was afraid.
Afraid she’d give me the same kind of answer she gave at lunch.
I… really did want to know.
As the silence stretched on, my mood quietly sank a little lower. I stared at the clouds in the sky, a sky that—just like my heart—refused to speak, no matter what.
Just like how Su Liumeng understood my daily routines.
Right now…
I also wanted to know a little more about her.
“Mommy, don’t be sad.” Every time I was upset, Si Zhiruo would follow suit and get gloomy too.
“If you really want to know, just say it to her face. If you express your desire clearly and tell her why it matters to you, she’ll definitely tell you.”
Si Zhiruo was probably the one who was most anxious.
What she feared most was that Mommy would stop trying to communicate with others again.
In truth, a lot of things are no big deal—if you just say them out loud.
But people’s personalities… they’re not all the same.
Her mommy, once she gets sad, just shuts down in silence.
I stared at my faintly pink fingertips, my voice stuffy and low. “I already asked her once. She gave me an answer.”
Si Zhiruo clenched her teeth. “Then ask again.”
“If she still won’t tell you—just like someone else instead.”
I froze completely.
Like… someone else?
“Yeah! If you don’t like someone, you wouldn’t care to know about their life, right? If she refuses to let you understand her, then maybe she’s just not worth liking anymore. At that point, you just switch to someone else, and you won’t want to know about her stuff anymore.”
If you can’t solve the problem—just replace the person who caused it.
Si Zhiruo’s logic was still as blunt and brutal as ever, with a perspective that no one else would ever think of. And weirdly enough… it made a certain kind of sense.
Her voice was cool and matter-of-fact, like she was predicting someone’s death sentence. “Mommy, don’t hang yourself from one tree.”
I stared at her in shock. “Where on earth did you learn that theory?”
“From the books you bought.”
I took a deep breath, like I wanted to say something to counter it… but nothing came out. It was kind of a half-hearted protest. “Fine, I’ll ask her one more time.”
“Even if we’re dating, people still need a little privacy.”
“It’s not like it’s weird for her not to let me read her conversations with her best friend.”
“And whatever she and Shangguan Xiyue were talking about, I’m sure she wouldn’t hide it from me.” Triggered by Si Zhiruo’s dramatics, my long-dormant logical brain finally climbed back into position.
“Besides, checking someone else’s messages without permission is weird to begin with. Who actually wants to hand over their chat history to someone else?”
Si Zhiruo sounded exasperated, like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“Mommy, why are you already siding with her? I haven’t even said a single bad thing about Su Liumeng, and here you are jumping in to defend her.”
She sat up on the ground and began to seriously analyze the situation.
“Mommy… you’re not turning into one of those romance-brained girls, are you?”
“Nothing’s even happened between you two yet, and you’re already full-on protecting her.”
There was a strong sense of crisis brewing inside her. If this kept going… she might just lose her mommy completely.
There was no more room left in her heart.
“Mommy, between me and her… who’s more important?”
She threw out a century-old dilemma without warning.
“Of course it’s you,” I answered without the slightest hesitation.
The little dumpling beamed and flopped down happily. Meanwhile, I kept pondering the question.
Silence fell over us again.
And then, a sudden realization hit me—
Why did I even want to see her chat history?
Was it really like what Zhizhi called “being romance-brained”?
Had I actually fallen for Su Liumeng?
This kind of behavior—how was it any different from those TV dramas where the girlfriend checks the guy’s phone?
The only difference, I suppose, was that my desire to check came more from curiosity than distrust.
Wait.
No, that’s not right either.
Curiosity is still curiosity. I can’t lump that together with jealousy and suspicion.
I probably don’t like her that much… I mentally scratched out the “romance-brained” option from my internal checklist.
When someone who’s always been shallow and obsessed with appearances stops fixating on looks—it’s honestly terrifying.
Maybe part of me, deep down, just didn’t want to admit to what Zhizhi said. A subconscious rebuttal against turning into some love-struck fool.
In the end, whether I liked her or not, being rational made me feel better about myself.
So—I threw out all those thoughts I’d just been stewing over.
What’s there to be curious about anyway?
Who cares about chat history. Let people live their lives.
Everyone deserves a little personal space. That’s how you keep things natural and harmonious.
Anyway, I’m not curious. I’m not checking anything.
If someone else really were to get in the middle of things—then so be it. No drama, no clinging. Just say goodbye and move on. Clean and simple.
I reorganized my thoughts, lifted my head, and walked into the building ahead.
The department’s dedicated building greeted me, the cold air seeping up from the floor like an invisible tide.
I didn’t bother with the little details anymore. My thoughts turned instead to my university life.
First class of the semester.
Maybe… it’ll actually be fun.