“The product for this quarter has shown…”

“Bzzz… bzzz…”

“So, personally, I believe—”

“Bzzz… bzzz…”

The product manager glanced awkwardly at the buzzing phone and then at Song Hongyu. “Mr. Song, perhaps you might want to—”

“It’s fine. Continue,” Song Hongyu replied coolly, barely looking at the phone. “Just some junk mail.”

The product manager quickly wrapped up the report and exited the office, though he couldn’t help but wonder to himself: Mr. Song is usually so disciplined, always puts his phone on airplane mode for meetings. Why not today?

Song Hongyu organized the files on his desk, ignoring the phone still vibrating like an insistent alarm. Only after he was done did he finally pick it up.

Unlocking it, he found a flood of messages on WeChat.

[Super Cheeky Xing: I took a sick day today, so there’s no news on Song Honglang]

[Super Cheeky Xing: But I decided to tell you all I know about his past misdeeds]

[Super Cheeky Xing: Song Honglang’s a real tyrant at school, bullying everyone and anyone!]

[Super Cheeky Xing: He’s also a total flirt. Practically every pretty girl at our school has a history with him.]

[Super Cheeky Xing: The girl who hosted yesterday’s event? She’s next in line.]

[Super Cheeky Xing: Honestly, I think Song Honglang has terrible taste. And his judgment? Nonexistent.]

[Super Cheeky Xing: Why aren’t you replying? Are you still asleep? Can’t be! It’s time to wake up!]

[Super Cheeky Xing: Or maybe talking about your brother makes you unhappy? Don’t worry! I’m just babbling here.]

…

On and on it went, her seemingly endless string of grumbling, and it hadn’t let up all morning.

Song Hongyu couldn’t help a wry smile as he loosened his tie and began to reply.

[Hongyu: I was in a meeting. How’s your foot? Feeling better?]

She replied instantly: “I’m not sure. Let me ask it.”

Curious, he waited.

When there was no response, he sent, “Well? What’s the answer?”

[Super Cheeky Xing: (photo)]

He clicked on the image and saw a foot wrapped comically thick in gauze, with a Post-it on top that read, “I AM FINE :)”

“Pfft—” He chuckled.

[Hongyu: Take care of it.]

After a moment, he added:

[Hongyu: Regarding Honglang, I really don’t need to know that much.]

[Hongyu: So you don’t need to keep updating me.]

[Super Cheeky Xing: So, you mean just the other things? ]

Persistent, he thought, momentarily speechless.

[Hongyu: No.]

[Hongyu: You’re interrupting my work.]

As he sent the reply, he tapped his knee, wondering if he’d been too blunt.

Being straightforward was one thing, but he didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Still, receiving an avalanche of messages first thing in the morning was certainly overwhelming.

After a while, she replied:

[Super Cheeky Xing: Or…]

[Super Cheeky Xing: …maybe you could just set my messages to silent?]

Quite the handful.

Song Hongyu stared at his phone, tapping his knee again.

While he normally had no trouble setting boundaries, Zhang Zhixing always seemed a little sad and lonely. This could be her way of expressing gratitude or finding someone to confide in after being treated unfairly. He found it hard to push her away more directly.

Better to let her down gently; a bit of distance, and hopefully, she’d lose interest.

[Hongyu: That’s one solution, but it would help if you could just keep the messages to a minimum.]

[Super Cheeky Xing: Or, maybe you could suggest some ways I could reach out that wouldn’t be annoying? ]

Song Hongyu hesitated for a moment, then typed a response.

---

In an old-style apartment block, Zhang Zhixing held her phone, deep in thought.

Maybe I’m coming on a bit strong. That’s no good.

But she couldn’t lose contact with him completely. Without WeChat, they’d barely have any way to communicate.

“Buzz—”

She glanced at the phone and froze.

[Hongyu: If you’d like, you can prepare a PowerPoint summary of any updates. That way, it’s convenient for both of us.]

Zhang Zhixing: “…”

---

Meanwhile, in the classroom, Song Honglang walked over to the class monitor, glancing at the empty desk. He leaned down and asked, “Where’s Zhang Zhixing? Did she take the day off?”

“Yeah, she took a sick day,” the class monitor replied.

“Why?”

The class monitor shrugged. “Not sure. She asked the homeroom teacher directly. I’m only keeping attendance.”

“I see.”

Could she be avoiding me?

Just the thought irritated him. Annoyed, he went back to his seat, pulled out his phone, and started dialing her number, but then paused.

Right, I don’t even have her number.

Scowling, he went back to the class monitor and got Zhang Zhixing’s contact info, feeling his irritation grow.

He punched in her number one digit at a time, pressing harder than necessary.

When he finally hovered over the call button, his irritation spiked, and his head felt a little foggy.

The line rang and rang.

“Sorry, the number you have dialed is currently unavailable…”

Expressionless, he redialed.

Nearly ten tries later, she still didn’t pick up.

What’s her problem?!

Shutting off his phone, he tossed it into his bag, grabbed his things, and walked out of the classroom.

The only reason I even came to school today was to talk to her. If she’s not here, why bother staying?

Arriving at his usual hangout, he tossed his bag onto a sofa and threw himself down. His friends greeted him as he entered.

“Whoa, what’s with the mood, man?” Xu Ting said, aiming a dart at the target. “Feeling the pressure for the match this afternoon?”

Another guy chimed in, “What pressure? It’s just a local pool tournament. He’s got this in the bag.”

Xu Ting grinned, “So I guess that leaves… girl trouble, right? If it was family drama, you’d be cursing up a storm, so—”

“Romance issues?” the other guy chimed in.

“Romance with your mom,” Song Honglang muttered, grabbing a pillow and chucking it at them.

Xu Ting caught it easily, laughing. “So it is a girl, huh?”

“Please, you’ve got two school goddesses practically vying for your attention, Du Xue and Zhao Yiqian. What’s there to worry about?”

“Can you shut up?” Song Honglang got up and moved over to the pool table.

“Oh, speaking of Zhao Yiqian, she’s coming to watch your match this afternoon,” Xu Ting added. “Shouldn’t you make some kind of gesture? Or maybe… you’re more into Du Xue?”

Song Honglang grabbed a cue and started chalking the tip. “Why would I want to talk about anything as boring as that?”

“Then maybe you’d be more interested if we talked about the bookworm you’ve been chasing lately?”

“Bang!”

The cue struck the ball with a sharp crack. “Shut up.”

“Bzzz bzzz—”

His phone buzzed. He quickly reached over to answer.

“Hello?”

Hearing her familiar voice again somehow felt different, and a strange, restless feeling vanished entirely.

In a low voice, he asked, “Why’d you call out sick today?”

After a long pause, he finally heard her reply.

“Um… who is this?”

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