FQ chapter 18

When Fan Qing sent the message, Luan Ye was still lying in bed.

He had said he needed rest, but he hadn’t really slept much. Most of the time, he just lay there with his eyes closed, zoning out.

The curtains were drawn, and Luan Ye had no idea what time it was. But the room was dimmer than usual—probably cloudy outside. Still, he couldn’t be bothered to get up and open the curtains to check.

His phone vibrated once, then again after a few seconds.

The third time it buzzed, Luan Ye finally opened his eyes, reached for it on the nightstand, and tapped the screen.

Fan Qing had actually sent him three photos.

He sobered up a little and opened them.

They were close-ups of small white flowers blooming on the surface of a lake. The petals were so white they looked almost translucent, with pale yellow centers. The lighting was a bit dim, making the flowers stand out more vividly, clustered together and reflecting the clarity of the water.

There was a close-up, a mid-range shot, and a wide-angle shot with distant mountains and water in the background. The composition was quite good—at the very least, clearly taken with care.

Luan Ye smiled and sent a reply.

Luan Ye: [Nice shots.]

Luan Ye: [Got more?]

Fan Qing stared at the two messages for a while.

Luan Ye hadn’t asked why he sent the photos and even complimented them… Fan Qing had expected him to just send back a question mark.

For some reason, he let out a breath of relief, then opened his album and looked through it from the beginning. He picked two more, got up to take a couple new ones, walked around again, and snapped a few more that he thought Luan Ye might like.

Once they were sent successfully, he opened one in full view, frowned a bit, and added: “Cloudy day, lighting’s not great.”

The process took a little while. Luan Ye, now fully awake after lying in bed waiting, finally received another batch of photos.

Flowers, lake, wild hills, and brightly painted little boats like something out of a fairytale.

Luan Ye swiped through them one by one. None seemed taken from the same spot—Fan Qing must’ve done at least two laps. Some were so close to the water he wasn’t sure if Fan Qing had stepped in.

The lighting wasn’t great, true, but every photo was brimming with life.

Luan Ye’s mood suddenly lifted. He got out of bed, opened the curtains, and glanced outside.

The weather was indeed gloomy. The distant snow-capped mountains were shrouded in mist. He let the curtains fall and walked into the bathroom, brushing his teeth as he replied:

Luan Ye: [What kind of flower is that?]

Fan Qing had taken his shoes off earlier to step into the water and couldn’t be bothered to put them back on. Barefoot, he replied while standing in the shallows: [Water buttercup, locals call it “promiscuous flower.”]

Luan Ye’s short comment came fast: [What a ridiculous name.]

Fan Qing couldn’t help but laugh.

Despite the gloomy weather, it was summer, and the lake water wasn’t cold—cool and refreshing. Fan Qing felt lighter and replied: [It’s a local delicacy meant to attract tourists.]

Luan Ye was surprised: [You’re kidding.]

A moment later, Fan Qing sent a photo of a restaurant entrance. A wooden basin was filled with the same flower and its stems, soaked in water, with a little sign above it that read: Local specialty: Promiscuous Flower.

A perfectly silent piece of proof. Luan Ye chuckled for a while.

Luan Ye: [How do you eat it?]

Fan Qing: [Cold dish, stir-fried, or in hot pot.]

Luan Ye: [Do the restaurants here serve it?]

Fan Qing: [They do.]

Luan Ye: [Tasty?]

Fan Qing responded quickly: [No, don’t order it.]

Such a pointless and silly chat log. Luan Ye could already picture Fan Qing typing that message with a straight face, and he laughed to himself for a good while. Then he went back and looked through the photos again.

They were pretty.

Photos Fan Qing had gone out of his way to take for him.

He knew why—because his emotions had started getting unstable again.

Even though he’d tried his best to make things sound light that night, even joked around a little, Fan Qing still sensed that something was off with him.

So he’d taken pictures of places he thought he might like and sent them over.

Luan Ye really did like them—and also found Fan Qing kind of interesting.

A handsome guy who looked cold and unapproachable on the outside, but underneath was like a bowl of warm, steaming sweet rice dumplings… What a ridiculous metaphor.

Luan Ye suddenly realized he was a bit hungry.

After washing up and stepping out of the room, he typed out a message while heading downstairs, editing and rephrasing until he finally sent: [Going anywhere else the next few days?]

Fan Qing: [Mm.]

Luan Ye: [Remember to send me pictures.]

Fan Qing hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to persuade Luan Ye to go out. After a few seconds of thought, he replied: [Okay.]

Luan Ye had said he needed to rest—though no one knew for how long… at least until he said he wanted to go out himself.

And so for the next week or so, Luan Ye consistently received photos from Fan Qing.

Sometimes they were of snowy mountains, sometimes of lakes or valleys. Other times, they were just unknown but beautiful, vibrant flowers and plants.

Luan Ye saved nearly all of them. If a plant caught his interest, he’d ask Fan Qing, and Fan Qing almost always had an answer. Sometimes, Luan Ye would critique the lighting or composition. If he saw a better angle, he’d instruct Fan Qing to reshoot it—like a teacher correcting homework.

Fan Qing always listened during those moments. If Luan Ye told him how to take the shot, he’d follow exactly, and the results were often quite good—definitely promising.

Except for the first time, most photos came around 10 a.m. like clockwork. It got to the point where Luan Ye suspected he was doing it on purpose. Judging by the lighting and location, some photos were clearly taken the afternoon before but sent the next morning—just in time for when Luan Ye would wake up and scroll through them while getting out of bed.

There were fewer photos in the afternoon or evening. Luan Ye initially took short walks outside, but since it was peak tourist season, more visitors had started showing up in the village. Though it wasn’t exactly crowded, he didn’t like going where there were too many people. Most of the time, he only went to Li Ge’s café or to “Go see the Mountains.”

The Go see the Mountains place started prepping for the evening by 3 or 4 p.m. and didn’t open to the public, but Luan Ye was allowed to hang out inside, chatting with Qiao Feibai and the others. Li Ge would usually reserve a corner seat for him on the second floor with greenery around, so no one disturbed him.

Luan Ye thought the people he’d met here were all kind of remarkable. Granny Mu, a kind and enthusiastic local; Qiao Feibai, a cheerful guy who said whatever popped into his head; Li Ge, a clever and observant business owner…

And then there was Fan Qing.

Hot-soup-dumpling-core heartthrob.

Everyone had different personalities, and they all acted and spoke differently… but they shared one thing in common.

None of them were overly curious. Even someone like Qiao Feibai—who, when meeting you, acted like he was ready to recite his whole family registry—would never ask questions that crossed the line.

That made Luan Ye feel comfortable.

He took a sip of coffee. The café was quite full that day. Upstairs, five or six college-aged tourists were taking turns snapping photos by the window with the snow mountain in the background and chatting about their final exam results.

“I failed advanced math, got a 56,” one guy sighed deeply.

“I begged Mr. Dong to help pull my grade up. He said that was the pulled-up version.”

“What now?” someone asked.

“Makeup exam when school starts,” the guy said miserably, wiping his face. “I was never cut out for computer science.”

“Then why’d you choose it?”

“My mom said it had good job prospects. Now I might not even graduate, let alone get a job.”

He sounded so frustrated his voice cracked: “I don’t even feel like traveling anymore!”

“It’s okay, the makeup exam will help you pass,” the others comforted him in turn. “Mr. Dong isn’t that heartless.”

“What did you get, Zhou Zhou?”

“Me? Eighty.”

“Why’d I only get sixty-two?!”

…

The group got louder and louder. Luan Ye put down his cup and stood up.

The guy from earlier was still spiraling. Hearing everyone else’s higher scores, he sighed again: “If I could go back, I’d never have chosen computer science.”

“Oh, right,” a girl by the window said. “Aren’t college entrance exam scores coming out around now?”

Luan Ye immediately turned to look at them.

Someone replied, “Yeah, they came out yesterday.”

“When mine came out, I was still asleep. My dad barged in banging on my door after checking the scores—scared the hell out of me…”

College entrance results had been released.

Didn’t Fan Qing say he’d just taken his college entrance exams?

Were the results released nationwide on the same day?

Heading downstairs, Luan Ye saw Li Ge washing cups behind the counter. He hesitated for a moment, then walked over and knocked twice on the counter.

Li Ge turned around. “Yo, why’d you come down?”

“I’m heading out,” Luan Ye smiled. “I’ll come back in a few days.”

“Those students upstairs were a bit loud, huh?” Li Ge chuckled. “Want me to tell them to keep it down?”

“No need. They’re just talking about exam results.”

He paused for a second, then asked, “Fan Qing—he just took his college entrance exams, right?”

Li Ge was surprised. “Ah, yeah, I think so. Why?”

“Just asking.” Luan Ye smiled. “I’m heading off.”

Leaving the café, Luan Ye looked down and started searching for Yunnan’s college entrance score release date.

After a few scrolls, a flood of information appeared—Yunnan’s results came out yesterday.

Luan Ye picked up his pace. As he pushed open the door, he was already pulling out his phone to call Fan Qing.

The phone barely rang before it was picked up, and Fan Qing’s voice came through.

“Hello—?”

“Where are you?” Luan Ye asked.

“…On the road down the mountain.” Fan Qing didn’t know why Luan Ye was calling. “Signal’s bad, I haven’t gotten a chance to send—”

“…Forget the photos.” Luan Ye took a deep breath. “Your college entrance exam results came out right?”

Fan Qing’s footsteps halted. He didn’t speak for a long time.

The mountain wind was strong, and the signal was poor. The static of the call mixed with the wind in his ears, making Fan Qing momentarily space out.

Of course, he knew the results were out. The class group chat had blown up since last night. There were some who did surprisingly well, some who bombed, and some who forgot their passwords, forgot their exam numbers, or couldn’t log into the website at all… Messages kept flooding in, easily hitting ninety-nine plus unread.

The teacher had sent the website link twice, and Fan Qing had saved it. But whether it was the poor signal or the site being overloaded, he’d tried logging in twice on his phone without success and decided to try again later.

He didn’t expect Luan Ye to call specifically to ask about this.

When the answer didn’t come, Luan Ye clicked his tongue. “Didn’t you say you were taking the college entrance exam this year? Don’t tell me you were lying?”

“…I wasn’t.”

The tourists had already caught up behind him. Fan Qing finally started walking downhill.

“The signal’s bad in the mountains. I haven’t been able to open the link. I was planning to check when I got back.”

“Do you want me to—”
Luan Ye started, then immediately changed his mind.
“Forget it.”

At the same time, Fan Qing spoke as if he’d finished his sentence: “You want to check it for me?”

Both of them went silent for a few seconds. In the end, Luan Ye spoke first.

“Just check it yourself when you get back.”

Luan Ye stood at the door for a long while before finally remembering to close it.

The bracelet on his left wrist swayed slightly with his movements. Lowering his hand, he spoke into the phone.

“I don’t have much luck.”

He’d never taken the college entrance exam himself. He dropped out of university before finishing, had been sick for quite a while… Although exam results are technically decided the moment you hand in your paper, you never know. People even eat sticky rice dumplings, fried dough sticks, and eggs before exams for good luck.

What if bad luck is contagious?

Fan Qing didn’t speak. The static and wind intermittently cut in and out. After a while, both sounds faded.

“I’ll send you my admission number. Can you check it for me?”

Fan Qing had probably found a spot sheltered from the wind; his voice came through clearly again.

Luan Ye gently rubbed his fingers together.

“If you’re not in a rush…”

“I want you to check it for me,” Fan Qing said.