Do you want to go to the hot springs together?

“Open your mouth and say…”

“Hello.”

“…Ah.”

“Hello…”

“Ah…”

In the quiet space enclosed by four white walls, sounds echoed repeatedly. It was mostly one-sided monologue, the woman opposite trying hard to comply, but only managing a few tuneless “ah”s and “eh”s. Sweat beaded on her forehead, her eyes filled with helpless anxiety.

Xu Fengluan remained calm, repeating patiently.

Teaching an infant must be this difficult, perhaps more so, since no one can wake an adult pretending to sleep.

“Hello…” Xu dragged out the words, her lip movements clear.

The woman mirrored her perfectly, but no sound came—a silent performance.

Outside, bare branches swayed, rustling. The streets, cleared of fallen leaves, stood empty, rarely crossed. Half a month had passed since that mountain night.

Xu inhaled, switching words, enunciating, “Liu… Ting… Song.”

No change; different words wouldn’t spark a breakthrough.

“Liu…”

“Ting.”

“Song.”

The clock’s minute hand ticked, urging the hour hand forward.

Xu stared at the woman’s moving lips, inexplicably recalling childhood. Near the school gate, vendors peddled cheap scratch-off tickets, five cents each. The cost was low, but winning five or ten yuan was a fortune to a child, enough for days of joy.

Kids, unable to resist, spent their pocket money, often leaving empty-handed.

Young Xu had no interest then, but now, she felt like she was endlessly scratching such tickets, with odds worse than a shady vendor’s, yielding no results.

“Let’s take a break.”

The long lesson was too grueling, even for Xu, tempered by years with instruments, who felt a creeping dejection.

“Drink some water, rest,” Xu softened, noticing her earlier brusqueness, and handed over a cup.

She caught Liu Tingsong’s downcast eyes, guilt poorly hidden.

“It’s okay, you’ve practiced a lot today,” Xu said, patting her hand.

“Drink,” she urged, touching Liu’s hand gently.

She waited patiently until Liu finished, then stood. “I’m stepping out for a smoke.”

Liu instinctively raised her hand to sign “okay,” but the cup stopped her. She could only watch Xu’s back vanish outside. @Infinite Good Stories, Exclusively at Jinjiang Literature City

*—Bang!*

The door closed.

The hospital’s end window bore layers of dust, dimming even bright sunlight.

Xu stood inside, keeping a palm’s distance, expertly lighting a cigarette.

A deep drag eased her emotions.

Her mind replayed the morning’s talk with the doctor.

“…Miss Liu’s condition remains challenging. You mentioned she spoke unconsciously once, but this isn’t true language loss—it’s self-imposed closure and resistance.”

“She seems cooperative but is actually resisting treatment.”

“My advice is to address the root cause, not force her with stimulation.”

“For rehabilitation… I hope you continue, but the chances are slim.”

Her thoughts lingered there, the cigarette half-burned.

Her green eyes blurred, the scenery outside hazy.

The root cause…

She stared at her reflection in the clouded window, forcing a stiff, emotionless smile.

Her phone buzzed. Expecting Liu, she saw Chu Cheng’s message instead.

Ignoring a red-dot notification from a contact, she opened Burning Meteor’s group chat.

Since leaving the hospital, she’d deleted all of Li Jianbai’s contact methods. He kept trying to reach her with new accounts, but Xu ignored him, drawing a firm line.

The group was lively as ever. With no work scheduled, the company seemed intent on shelving them, and they enjoyed the break, chatting endlessly when bored.

Xu occasionally joined but mostly stayed silent.

She scrolled through, catching up slowly.

Chu Cheng was rallying them to her bar, where the Shark band, mentioned before, would perform tonight. She’d promised Burning Meteor would show up to offer pointers.

Her bold promise left her begging them to come, even offering drinks.

Kuang Ye and Ji Lunan teased her, refusing at first, enjoying her pleading.

Chu Cheng, rarely at a disadvantage, turned to Xu.

Xu’s eyes glinted with amusement but didn’t agree outright, typing a playful response.

Chu Cheng nearly exploded, sending a flurry of kneeling emojis, picking the cutest ones.

Xu stifled a laugh, her trembling arm brushing the person beside her, who not only didn’t pull away but leaned closer until they touched completely. @Infinite Good Stories, Exclusively at Jinjiang Literature City

“This guy’s really whipped,” Xu said, tilting her head.

Liu, present during that call, knew what Xu meant. She nodded, pointing at Chu Cheng’s latest message.

[“Sisters, grandmas, ancestors, please come! Drinks on me or not, just come see your future sister-in-law. My happiness depends on you!”]

Xu’s finger hovered over “okay,” rubbing her stiff, smiling face. “Wanna go? You worked hard today.”

Since the mountain, their relationship had softened. Xu no longer kept a cold face, and Liu could draw closer at times, but full reconciliation eluded them, a barrier lingering despite nightly embraces.

There was no easy fix, and even if there was, Liu might not accept it, leaving them in this helpless stalemate.

Liu nodded, then tugged Xu’s hand, shaking her head slowly.

The nod was agreement; the shake meant she wasn’t tired—Xu was the one struggling.

Xu ignored it, her smile fading slightly. “Let’s grab dinner and go see who’s got Chu Cheng so smitten.”

Liu looked at her, her eyes saying *okay*.

The group teasing continued, Chu Cheng boasting about a hot spring trip she’d perfectly planned, even invoking Zhao Zhao to guilt them.

They laughed, reluctantly agreeing.

Looking up, Liu still clung to her side, quiet, not interrupting.

This was the second time Xu had shared this with her.

Xu paused, then said, “Wanna join the hot spring trip?”

Before Liu could respond, Xu added, “To relax. Orange is so secretive about the place…”

Liu nodded, her autumn-water eyes soft, like polished jade.

Xu met her gaze, saying, “Let’s go.”

The cigarette hit the trash, the wind scattering its scent toward another part of the city.

“President Xu.”

In a sleek yet luxurious office, a high-heeled assistant knocked and entered, saying softly, “Teacher Shi is here. He wanted to invite you to dinner recently but got no reply. Knowing you’re busy, he came in person, hoping you’d spare a moment.”

Xu Nanzhu closed her folder, expression unchanged, replying, “Not meeting.”

The assistant froze, recalling prior favors, and pressed, “He’s sincere, just wants to know how he offended you. He promises to fix it…”

Before finishing, Xu Nanzhu’s gaze lifted, a half-smile chilling the assistant’s spine, silencing her. “President Xu…”

“Don’t say what you shouldn’t,” Xu Nanzhu said lightly.

The assistant nodded, sweating, regretting her words.

She’d thought it trivial, as Shi was a veteran at the entertainment company. After Liu Tingsong left, he’d approached Xu Nanzhu, signing a contract that steadied the rattled company.

Though he didn’t earn much, Xu Nanzhu, grateful, sent resources his way, building him a respected senior image in the industry.

But recently, she’d soured on him, demanding he leave when his contract ended. Panicked, Shi tried dinners and apologies through others, now showing up himself.

The assistant racked her brain but found no clues. Shi had only declined a live show recently, but that was to please Xu Nanzhu, favoring Xu Fengluan…

She couldn’t figure it out, standing nervously as Xu Nanzhu reached for a folder.

Noticing her unease, Xu Nanzhu ignored it, working for an hour before casually asking, “Why’s it so noisy downstairs lately?”

The assistant straightened, explaining, “Two paparazzi keep causing trouble, wanting to see you. I’ll have security clear them out.”

“Is that so…” Xu Nanzhu smiled, unconcerned.

The assistant’s eyes widened, recalling something.

Those paparazzi were ousted from the industry for offending Xu Fengluan. Xu Nanzhu’s mention…

Sweat beaded again. Though unclear on the connection, she resolved never to help Shi again.

The wind rose, the night deepened, and the bar erupted with noise.