Zhuang Mingqi might not have understood he was making a reference, or perhaps he picked up on the unspoken hint, or maybe it was both and he just didn't want to respond directly. He simply replied according to the literal meaning, "Someone online shared their experience of seeking psychological counseling abroad. He told the therapist about some... so-called 'childhood memories,' and ended up making the therapist cry."

The curve of Shen Zhengning's smile didn't waver in the slightest; one could even call it stubbornly persistent. "Children often take momentary feelings too seriously and have a deeper memory of failure. In reality, things not going as planned is the norm in life."

Zhuang Mingqi raised his eyelids, giving him a light, disapproving glance. "Normal doesn't mean not painful. Attributing all suffering to not being strong enough... it's incredible you haven't been PUA*'d to this day."

*T/N: slang for being emotionally manipulated or abused

Shen Zhengning was noncommittal, opportunely pulling the topic back to a safe zone. "What about you? What made you think of getting a dog?"

Zhuang Mingqi beckoned to Silver. The fluffy white Samoyed scrambled up from the floor and deftly pounced on his leg, acting cute. He ruffled the dog's fur with the uniquely uninhibited movements of an owner. The astonishingly fluffy Silver's face was getting completely messed up, yet it remained good-tempered, tilting its head up and letting him manhandle it however he pleased. "When I met Silver, it was also just a little puppy, living in a pile of trash on the streets of London. Its fur was gray, not cute at all. At first glance, I even thought it was a big rat."

A rainy London was a cold, misty, smoky-gray crystal. Pedestrians with umbrellas hurried past on the streets. The sounds of rain and traffic echoed in the vast emptiness between heaven and earth, turning into a low, noisy background hum. He was in a filthy, dark alley, vomiting until the world turned dark, yet his completely wrung-out stomach could only squeeze out a little bile. The physical pain and mental despair forced his soul from his body, leaving it to float alone high in the air, looking down at this wretched man who resembled a dying insect.

The rain drenched his face until the nerves went numb, and his ears were filled with the ringing of congested eardrums. In a daze, Zhuang Mingqi felt something biting his pant leg. He looked down and saw a gray-black unidentified creature about the size of a papaya.

His first reaction—he really should thank God he still had a reaction—was to wonder if the end of the world had finally arrived, starting with mutated rats biting people on the street. Then, he lifted his foot and nudged the thing away. The unidentified creature was knocked onto its back, rolling in the muddy water before raising its head and letting out two milky "aows" at him.

It's a dog.

Zhuang Mingqi's tense heart relaxed. His mood eased slightly because of this sudden interruption. He reached into his trench coat pocket, fumbled around, and found a piece of chocolate wrapped in foil. He casually unwrapped half of it and tossed it to the stray dog.

The little puppy curiously went over and sniffed at it. Zhuang Mingqi casually tossed away the handkerchief that had been covering his mouth, watching its movements through eyelashes blurred by misty water. His brain, which felt like paste, slowly started to turn, and he suddenly remembered a piece of trivia he'd read somewhere—dogs can't eat chocolate; it can kill them.

His heart skipped a beat. He quickly squatted down to snatch the half-eaten piece of chocolate from the dog's mouth before it could lick it, then flicked his hand to throw it deep into the alley. This series of actions was a bit much for his body, which was currently as weak as if it were made of paper-mâché. Zhuang Mingqi's vision went black for a moment, and when he came to, he realized one of his hands was still pressing on the dog's head.

If this had been a vicious dog that had been roaming the streets for years, Zhuang Mingqi's actions would have been an invitation for it to have a meal on his hand. But luckily, he had encountered a little puppy that barely even knew how to bark. Having its food snatched away, it could only whimper helplessly, its black eyes covered with a sheen of aggrieved tears as it ingratiatingly stuck out its tongue to lick his hand.

Any fluffy and cute creature would turn into a big-eyed alien monster when soaked with water, let alone a small, dirty dog that wasn't cute to begin with. But Zhuang Mingqi was instantly frozen to the spot by its action.

The touch was warm, real, and slight, yet it was no less than a butterfly's flapping wings causing a storm in the Pacific. It was a touch from another living soul that wouldn't trigger his stress reaction.

The curse named "untouchable," which weighed heavily upon his fate, seemed to have been pried open by a tiny crack by this creature that had fallen from the sky.

It was like a miracle.

The cold, gray crystal shattered with a crash. The soul suspended in mid-air whistled back into his body. His long-malfunctioning senses desperately clung to all the sights, sounds, smells, and touches of the world, filling his empty, drafty chest.

"Can you come with me?"

The wandering soul, exiled by the crowd, opened his pale hand in a gesture of invitation and asked the puppy earnestly, "Let's go together, okay?"

The puppy didn't understand, twitching its nose and circling his hand. Zhuang Mingqi scooped it up, steadied himself against the wall, and shakily stood up straight. His steps were unsteady, but his destination was clear as he walked toward the sliver of light at the alley's entrance.

He didn't mention much about himself. Under the clear, dry sunlight, Zhuang Mingqi gently stroked the dog's head and sighed, "At first, I thought it was a small dog like a Pomeranian or a Japanese Spitz, but the vet said it was a Samoyed and would grow very big."

"I watched with my own eyes as it grew bigger and bigger, from being able to be picked up with two fingers to needing two hands to carry..."

The big cotton ball suddenly shook its head frantically. Fine white dog hair flew like dandelions in the wind, falling in the clear sunlight. Both men simultaneously: "Achoo!"

"Pfft!"

"Haha..."

They relaxed their shoulders at the same time, leaning back deep into the rattan armchairs. The pain that couldn't be spoken of nor let go, the solitary years of walking alone... the wounds carved by past experiences could never be completely erased, but if they were lucky, they would occasionally feel healed at certain moments in their lives.

It was by relying on these moments, as fine as granulated sugar, that they could barely manage to swallow life's bitter cup instead of being completely drowned by it.

Shen Zhengning unexpectedly thought of Ye Tongsheng—for a soul floating and sinking in the passing water, was it a release for him?

"Have you added Ye Tongsheng on WeChat?"

"Hm?" Zhuang Mingqi was momentarily confused. "No, why?"

"This question might be a bit offensive, but I'm not asking out of a gossipy, schadenfreude mindset. If it makes you uncomfortable, I apologize in advance," Shen Zhengning said. "I want to know, what are your thoughts on Ye Tongsheng's suicide?"

For a brief moment, the hostility that had been provoked at Ye Tongsheng's funeral once again swept fiercely through his heart. But he immediately realized that this misplaced anger shouldn't be directed at Shen Zhengning. Curiosity was innocent, and they weren't yet close enough to bare their hearts and reveal all their dark sides to each other.

The cat jumped back onto the wardrobe. Although neither of them had moved, a distance had suddenly opened up between them. Zhuang Mingqi's gaze was condescending and scrutinizing. "Why the sudden question?"

Shen Zhengning flipped his phone over, turning the screen toward him. "Have you seen this post of his?"

In the sunlight, Zhuang Mingqi's pupils were so light they seemed to glow, possessing a cool, clear quality like something inorganic. He stared intently at the phone, and even Shen Zhengning couldn't read his current mood from his expression. "Ye Tongsheng posted this?"

Shen Zhengning said, "To be precise, it was the last Moments post from Ye Tongsheng's account, on the night he passed away."

Zhuang Mingqi looked up and met his gaze for several seconds. "Are you asking me who he was apologizing to?"

It proved that he could fully understand Shen Zhengning's convoluted hints; most of the time, he just pretended not to hear them.

Shen Zhengning made a "please speak" gesture, but Zhuang Mingqi still didn't answer directly. "Did the police treat this message as evidence?"

"Yes," Shen Zhengning said. "His family relationships were strained, he had a history of depression, and he published a message that seemed like last words before his death. These clues were linked together to form a causal chain, leading to the conclusion that he committed suicide."

"Are you cooperating with the police?" Zhuang Mingqi asked. "Or do you have a special relationship with Ye Tongsheng, which is why you're so invested in this case?"

"Unfortunately, neither," Shen Zhengning answered his somewhat aggressive questions with considerable patience. "Ye Tongsheng and I were just ordinary colleagues, we couldn't be said to have any sort of friendship. At best, I was a witness who participated in the questioning. As for the police investigation, I naturally have no right to interfere. Frankly, I'm purely acting out of curiosity, so I managed to gather some information from various channels. There's no official involvement; it's just a personal endeavor."

Between "meddlesome" and "having nothing better to do," Zhuang Mingqi chose the more polite phrasing: "You have a lot of potential to be a detective."

Shen Zhengning chuckled. "That doesn't sound like a compliment."

"You don't know his past, you weren't his friend, and there are no personal feelings involved. Yet, for the simple reason that 'the logic doesn't add up,' you'd mobilize your instincts, take action to investigate, and even deliberately scheme to sound me out, an insider." Zhuang Mingqi commented bluntly. "You don't like people calling you Sherlock Holmes, so this shouldn't count as a compliment."

"I don't like being called 'Sherlock Holmes' because I'm a hundred and eight thousand li away from being Sherlock Holmes. Exaggeration to that degree is tantamount to sarcasm, only serving to remind me of how much I overestimate my abilities," Shen Zhengning admitted frankly. "Besides, I'm not sounding you out, but seeking help and verification from someone in the know. Didn't I just say it? If this question offended you, then I apologize."

Although the context was completely wrong, with things having been said to this point, Zhuang Mingqi couldn't help but blurt out, "If apologies were useful, what would we need the police for?"

Shen Zhengning: "? Then call the police."

...

Zhuang Mingqi gave him a faint sideways glance, which wasn't very intimidating. He was the one making a pop culture reference, yet he was blaming the other for not being serious, once again proving Shen Zhengning's accurate judgment of his type. "You didn't deny 'deliberately scheme.' It seems I hit the mark."

Shen Zhengning thought to himself, 'Waking up five minutes early every day just to pet a dog, isn't that a form of deep scheming?' but what he said was, "If you mean that I'm 'taking it seriously,' then I indeed have no need to deny it."

The unexpected directness stunned Zhuang Mingqi into silence. After a moment, he let out an inaudible sigh, reached out to rub the Samoyed's soft, springy ears, and through this action, found a certain resolve. "I can understand any choice he made, including... giving up his life. But this one 'last message,' I can't understand—because he would never say 'sorry' to those two."