Night lay deep, swallowing the world.
After his shower, Chen Shu stepped into the courtyard to cool off and looked up at the stars.
There was no moon tonight. At first glance, only two or three stars shone brightly, but the longer he looked, the more appeared—too many to count.
One of the side rooms had been sealed up, strangely enough. It had once held odds and ends and the Mini Motorcycle, but for some reason, its windows had been bricked up tight with earth and bricks today, and most of its door had been sealed too.
Chen Shu thought for a moment, then turned and went upstairs.
"Knock, knock."
He gave the door two perfunctory knocks. Hearing nothing inside, he pushed it open.
It wasn't locked, either.
The light in the room was soft.
After a few steps, Chen Shu saw Qingqing sitting against the headboard in a new ice-silk slip nightdress, holding a book she was almost done reading. His face immediately fell. He went over and flung himself onto the bed, wrapping his arms around her waist through the quilt and breathing in her scent.
"Ah, Qingqing, I suddenly feel like my injuries have gotten worse!"
"Does it hurt badly?"
"Yes." Chen Shu nodded again and again, looking pitiful. "It hurts so much."
"What would make it better?" Qingqing lifted her eyes from her book and looked at him calmly. She sounded entirely earnest; no one could have detected a hint of teasing.
“I need to see Black Stockings.”
"Heh..."
"Please?"
"Go tell that to a ghost." Qingqing pressed her lips together and went back to her book.
"Ah, you're so heartless..."
"Go on."
"You're not the adorable Qingqing you used to be. You're so cruel! And you're not the Qingqing who kept her word anymore. You