Before leaving, Cheng Shuo sent Cen Zeng a WeChat message, asking when his class ended so he could pick him up for a meal.

Cen Zeng first replied with a question mark. Then, he quickly responded: class ends at 12:30. I have another class at 3.

'That's enough time.' Cheng Shuo frowned and continued to ask, 'Where's your academic building?'

'Which campus gate should I go to that's closer for you?'

Cen Zeng replied with the name of his academic building.

Cheng Shuo entered it into the map and told him, 'I'll wait for you at the South Gate. It's a ten-minute walk.'

He waited until 12:50 and finally saw him, honking the horn once. The person walked straight over.

The spring scenery was perfect. Connecting to the South Gate was a grove of willow trees. Willow catkins drifted down like snow, landing beside Cen Zeng.

Full of life, bright and clear.

He was almost stunned by the sight.

But when he closed his eyes, it was again the image of that person collapsed on the floor. The sky outside was dim, the living room light was ghastly white.

He only snapped back to reality when someone tapped on the driver's side window. He unlocked the doors.

Cen Zeng got in.

"Aren't you going to ask where we're eating?" Cheng Shuo asked.

He was too quiet. Before, Cheng Shuo had thought it was great—not troublesome, not noisy, not needy, an easy person to deal with. Now, he just felt that it was too quiet, so quiet it scared him.

"I'm not a picky eater," Cen Zeng replied. "Anything is fine."

"Then let's have..." he thought for a moment, "Cantonese food."

Cen Zeng's mental state was bad enough to attempt suicide; from his limited knowledge, his stomach probably wasn't in good shape either.

Cen Zeng nodded once.

Cheng Shuo subconsciously ordered a round of dishes, then turned his head to ask Cen Zeng for his opinion, "Want to add anything else?"

"This is enough," Cen Zeng answered.

It was quite funny. They had lived together for two months, had even slept together, yet they were still not familiar with each other.

Cheng Shuo rarely had the chance to observe Cen Zeng, and he now noticed that his appetite was really small.

He didn't know if he should force him to eat.

But he really didn't know how to bring it up.

So, at the end of the meal, he could only ask, "Are you full?"

Cen Zeng glanced down at his bowl and said, "I ate too much for breakfast, so I don't have much of an appetite right now. Don't mind me."

Cheng Shuo didn't know what to say.

He cleared his throat and said, "Oh. What are you doing tonight?"

He was getting goosebumps; he had never been so clumsy at making conversation in his entire life.

The person across from him looked at him, frowned, and said, "What's wrong with you today? What are you trying to say?"

"Nothing, I just—" He just, whenever he closed his eyes, saw the image of Cen Zeng collapsed on the floor.

He was scared, so he could only stare at the person who was still alive.

Cen Zeng and Xing Ji weren't actually that similar. Xing Ji looked like a wealthy young master who never had to worry about food or clothing—noble, gentle, refined, and aloof.

Cen Zeng, on the other hand, was simply expressionless. His features were soft, but he himself was cold, hard, and composed. Two months ago, when Cheng Shuo had walked up and tapped on his desk, he had looked up from his laptop and said, "Okay."

Cheng Shuo hadn't even finished introducing himself, but since his reputation as a fun-loving and generous guy was well-known throughout the school, he was happy to take it easy and didn't get angry. He said, "Alright then, let's have dinner tonight and get to know each other."

Cen Zeng nodded from across the table at the time.

At first, he had some interest in the guy. He invited him out to hang out, but Cen Zeng came out once and then refused any further invitations. When they ate together, Cen Zeng barely spoke.

He never had much patience for such quiet people. But Cen Zeng's cooking was quite good, and they were compatible enough in bed. So he asked Cen Zeng if he wanted to move in.

The guy came, and just like Xing Ji, he always kept his distance. He moved straight into the guest room, not even glancing at the master bedroom.

But Cheng Shuo had rented this two-bedroom apartment in the first place so that after bringing someone home for a hookup, they wouldn't have to sleep next to him. He had no objections.

Besides, when Xing Ji was still in the country, he had always been lukewarm toward him anyway. He felt it was a good substitution. A healthier replacement, one with no strings attached. He could keep the replacement at home while still fooling around outside.

In the last month, they simply stopped having any intimate contact at all.

They just exchanged a few words when they ran into each other, becoming roommates. Cen Zeng would toss him onto the bed when he came home drunk.

So, he was annoyed to death and completely clueless.

No one had ever told him how to deal with someone who was suicidal.

His mom had only one sharp comment on the matter: people should take responsibility for their own lives; contemplating suicide was just evading responsibility.

Staring at Cen Zeng at this very moment, he was utterly unable to detect even a hint of vulnerability in his calm expression and movements.

"I just feel like you're not very happy." Cheng Shuo thought for a moment, then blurted out impulsively, "If there's anything you're unhappy about, you can tell me."

This time, Cen Zeng put down the chopsticks he had been holding motionlessly.

His movement was light, but he suddenly sat up straight.

"If something's bothering you, I can help you. Anyway, we agreed: situationship. It's give and take. I don't like to owe anyone anything."

Hearing this, Cen Zeng gave a faint smile. "You don't owe me anything. We were just helping each other out from the start."

"Then what did I help you with?" he asked, very curious.

Cen Zeng raised his eyes to look at him. The smile vanished, like a lake frozen over in winter.

"You don't need to know."

He was impenetrable.

"Then tonight..."

"I don't feel like going out tonight. You go have fun," Cen Zeng replied. "Have a good time."

'Fuck, what does that mean.'

Cheng Shuo's mind was filled with 'why does this guy have this kind of attitude'.

On second thought, he had never cared about the guy's attitude or emotions before.

"Then what are you doing tonight?"

"Homework," Cen Zeng said. "If you're bringing someone over, I can go to the library."

"It's fine, you can stay home."

He finally took a breath. "Then let's talk tomorrow."

He also had a class today. He was rarely on time, but he didn't hear a single word the professor said, just stared inexplicably at the sunlight outside.

A beautiful spring day, perfect for chasing girls, and perfect for going for a drive.

After packing up the iPad he had taken out for notes but hadn't written a single word on, he went to find Zhang Yijie and called his childhood friend. "Why do you think people want to die?"

Zhang Yijie was completely dumbfounded by the question. "Why are you suddenly asking something like that?"

"I don't know. But if someone wants to die, how can you save them?"

"Who?" Zhang Yijie asked. "Did one of your flavor-of-the-month exes not get handled properly and is now making a scene about dying? For those types, don't you usually just give them some money and a little scare?"

"It's not that easy to actually die. They're all just trying to trick you. If it really comes down to it, call the police." His tone was casual, even a little contemptuous.

Cheng Shuo was a bit annoyed. What Zhang Yijie said wasn't wrong; he had always thought the same way.

Before he saw the note someone had left, he had thought the same way.

But now it was different.

"No..." he said, "it's not one of them. Someone really wants to die."

"Who?" Zhang Yijie was bewildered. "You have a friend I don't know?"

Cheng Shuo didn't know how to say it.

"Never mind who. Just tell me what to do."

"Fuck, I don't have any experience either. I guess... care for him, take him out to have fun, go for walks with him, get some sun, get some exercise?"

Cheng Shuo pictured the scene in his mind and shuddered.

"Let's talk about it over dinner later."