Chapter 12
At this moment, what filled Zhong Yin’s eyes was not rain, but the crackling fireworks. She took a gentle breath, steeling herself before turning around and nodding, “I forgot to bring it.”
“If you don’t mind, I can walk you part of the way,” Lin Yinian asked, his knobby fingers opening the umbrella as he inquired.
Was fate truly on her side? Was it?
Zhong Yin whispered softly, “That would be a trouble for you, then.”
“The umbrella’s a bit small,” Lin Yinian’s tone held a trace of apology, “Be careful not to get wet.”
His voice was so near, almost dreamlike, an unreal sensation.
Zhong Yin shook her head, “It’s alright, I haven’t been rained on.”
Raindrops pounded the ground, creating puddles.
Such heavy rain still couldn’t drown out the pounding of her heart. Zhong Yin recalled the rainy days in high school when she would pause to watch Lin Yinian walk along the tree-lined campus path holding an umbrella.
Only, back then, there was always another figure by his side.
Memories surfaced, and her racing heart gradually steadied until Lin Yinian’s voice pulled her back to reality.
She snapped out of her reverie. “Hm? What?”
“I was just asking where you were headed.”
“I’m going back to the dorm, Building 19.” Thinking of her dorm’s location, Zhong Yin waved her hand, “You don’t have to go out of your way to see me off.”
Lin Yinian seemed amused, “Then after I’m there, how do you plan to get back?”
“Can you lend me the umbrella? I’ll return it next time…” She paused briefly, then corrected herself, “I’ll have Yi Chen return it to you.”
Lin Yinian looked at her, silent.
His silence made Zhong Yin wonder if she’d said something wrong. Just as she was about to explain, Lin Yinian spoke, “Zhong Yin, you’re not quite what I imagined.”
Zhong Yin was stunned.
He studied her, noting that her expression now was far less lively than when she faced Yi Chen, even somewhat constrained.
He pondered for a moment before settling on a fitting phrase: “You seem a little more distant than I imagined.”
Zhong Yin opened her mouth, but words failed her. All her usual sharp wit deserted her before him.
The rain began to ease.
Zhong Yin slowly found her voice, “I didn’t mean to be.”
Lin Yinian shook his head, not pressing further, “It’s fine.”
Facing a lull in conversation, something she dreaded, Zhong Yin wracked her brain and asked, “Why are you here today?”
“The student council is on the fourth floor. I had some business to handle.”
Zhong Yin sighed, “You always seem busy whenever I see you.”
Lin Yinian retorted, “You’re no different.”
As they passed beneath Building 39, Zhong Yin said, “You should head back. Just lending me the umbrella is enough.”
“I’m really lacking in chivalry,” Lin Yinian joked, “Usually it’s the guy who walks the girl back, but now it’s the other way around.”
Catching his effort to lighten the mood, Zhong Yin tried to respond with a joke, but it came out softly, “I can get back on my own.”
Lin Yinian could only hand over the umbrella.
She took it, her gaze briefly flickering over him. “Goodbye.”
“See you next time,” Lin Yinian nodded.
Back in the dorm, Cheng An peeked out from his bed, his eyes falling on Lin Yinian’s empty right hand. “Brother Nian, where’s my meal?”
“Sorry, something came up today. Didn’t manage to buy it,” Lin Yinian set down his bag.
“No worries,” Cheng An waved it off, pulling out his phone. “I’ll ask Yi Chen’s dad.”
“Has he gone out?” Lin Yinian asked.
“Yeah,” Cheng An shrugged, “Probably off somewhere hustling for money again.”
At first, no one took seriously when Yi Chen, the wealthy heir decked in designer brands, said he was saving money to develop a game.
But he actually followed through, taking on numerous outsourcing jobs. Besides that, he did game companionship, skin trading, even scheming his cousin—he earned money any way he could.
Cheng An hopped off the bed and sent a voice message to Yi Chen: “Dad Chen, I want a stuffed pancake, a basket of steamed dumplings, a bowl of Chongqing noodles, and maybe a cup of sweet fermented rice wine.”
Song Xu quickly grabbed his phone to add a message, “And me! I want minced pork eggplant claypot rice.”
A quarter of an hour later, there was a knock at the door.
“Wow, it has to be Dad Chen! He’s back so soon!” Cheng An dashed to open the door, then widened his eyes seeing the drenched figure. “Damn, Yi Chen, you came back soaked?”
Yi Chen said nothing, took off his soaked jacket, tossed it in the laundry basin, and grabbed a towel to dry his hair. Water droplets slid from his pale jaw down to his deeply set collarbones, disappearing into his shirt.
The storm outside was bitter and cold. Cheng An shivered, “You didn’t have to rush back in such heavy rain.”
Yi Chen ignored him and fetched a change of clothes. “I’m going to shower.”
Lin Yinian noticed his unsettled expression. “Did something happen?”
“Nothing. Just Rui Ke said they have no plans to develop the game for now,” Yi Chen said indifferently while drying his wet hair. “I just got played. No big deal.”
He shut the door behind him.
The three in the dorm exchanged looks.
They all knew Rui Ke, a somewhat reputable tech company in the industry.
A few months ago, Yi Chen said this outsourcing company was interested in the game he wanted to develop.
If he perfected the framework, and after evaluation the company agreed to fund it, it would be like securing angel investment.
Making a game involved so many aspects—planning, modeling, art, operations—all indispensable.
For months, Yi Chen had been hustling online and offline, cobbling together a team at his own expense, spending every free moment coding alone. Just as the project took shape, he was played for a fool.
Song Xu sighed, “Yi Chen worked so hard on this, it must hurt.”
Cheng An scratched his head, “Why does he work so hard in sophomore year when his family’s already so well off?”
“Probably dreams? Didn’t Yi Chen say in freshman year he wanted to create a game on par with RDR or CoD in China?”
“But,” Lin Yinian suddenly spoke.
Outside, the wind and rain raged fiercely. His profile was half in shadow, making him appear indistinct. His voice was calm: “Dreams always have to give way to reality.”
There was a brief silence.
Cheng An laughed it off, “Ah, let’s not be so down. I’ll just think about what to eat!”
—
When Zhong Yin returned, her dorm mates were all bleary-eyed, obviously having slept the whole afternoon and just gotten out of bed.
“Did it rain outside?” Zheng Baoni rubbed her eyes, glanced at the dark sky, “Hey, you brought an umbrella? When I came back today, I saw your umbrella hanging by the door. Did I remember wrong?”
Zhong Yin stood by the sink, carefully shaking water droplets off the umbrella, “You didn’t remember wrong. The umbrella isn’t mine.”
“Oh,” Zheng Baoni said.
Zhong Yin waited a long moment for the next question, but no one asked, so she softly added, “Why don’t you ask whose umbrella this is?”
Just as Guo Tao, about to start a game, played along, “Oh, then whose is it?”
Zhong Yin opened the umbrella like a precious treasure and set it out on the balcony to dry, smiling gently, “Guess.”
Guo Tao immediately said, “Yi Chen?”
“No way!” Zhong Yin snapped, “Don’t mention him; I get mad if you do.”
Was he really that busy? Not a single message all afternoon?
She refused to believe anyone nowadays could go hours without checking their phone.
No! Courtesy!
Forget it.
If he doesn’t reply, so be it. If he offends her, it’s like kicking a cotton ball.
Zheng Baoni suggested, “Then, Lin Yinian?”
Zhong Yin raised her brow, “Bingo!”
There was a beat of silence before all three stared at her wide-eyed.
Guo Tao put down his phone, “...Huh?”
Shi An’an took off her headphones, “Moshi Moshi?”
Zheng Baoni rubbed her hair in confusion, “You two are together now?”
Perfect.
Zhong Yin basked in her roommates’ surprise, clearing her throat as she recounted her chance encounter with Lin Yinian at the administration building.
Guo Tao sat upright. “Interesting. What did you two talk about?”
Zhong Yin’s expression slowly drooped. “Just... polite small talk. He said I seemed distant.”
Guo Tao laughed out loud. “Distant? You were clearly smirking inside.”
Zhong Yin was speechless.
“Anything else? What else did you talk about?”
Zhong Yin couldn’t even recall the details. “I don’t think there was much…”
“Ah? That’s it?”
Zhong Yin held her face in frustration, murmuring, “I don’t know why, but I can’t relax around him.”
There was something she didn’t say—that she felt almost unlike herself.
Shi An’an comforted her, “Don’t worry, girls always get nervous around someone they like.”
Zhong Yin looked puzzled. “Really...?”
Zheng Baoni agreed, “Yeah, who isn’t nervous the first time alone with their crush? You’re doing great.”
Guo Tao added, “Exactly, and Lin Yinian offering to walk you shows he has feelings for you too.”
Zhong Yin’s eyes brightened. “Really?”
“Of course,” Guo Tao patted her shoulder. “Even heaven seems to be on your side.”
Her spirits lifted.
She rested her cheek on her hand, gazing at the black umbrella on the balcony. Her previously empty heart gradually settled.
The rain had poured all day and night. After several autumn showers, the weather suddenly turned cold.
In the morning, Zhong Yin woke, reaching out from under the covers, then quickly pulled back, chilled.
Ah.
So cold!
She lit up her phone screen.
6:30 a.m.
Glancing at the weather outside, she decided her morning workout was out of the question. She found an excuse for her laziness and lay back down for a short nap.
When she woke again, it was already nine.
Zhong Yin hadn’t slept this well in a long time; her mood was bright as she got up to freshen up. Soon, a message from her department mates asked when the next shoot would be.
She replied: [Wait for the school sports meet.]
Thinking of this, Zhong Yin remembered Yi Chen.
He hadn’t replied for twenty hours.
Her morning cheer vanished instantly.
So, she angrily opened Yi Chen’s chat window.
She typed furiously.
But at the last second before sending, she suddenly sobered, swallowing her pride and deleting the messages.
She almost forgot—he responds better to softness than pressure.
So, she tapped his avatar gently.
[Yi Chen, are you there?]
[Still mad?]
Seeing no reply, Zhong Yin grew bolder:
[Yi Chen?]
[Princess?]
[Princess Yi?]
A few seconds later, she nervously licked her lips, preparing to quietly retract the messages.
As fate would have it, at that moment, a question mark popped up from the other side.