Chapter 3

After returning from the shopping mall, Xu Er dedicated his entire afternoon to his bed. He slept so soundly that when he finally woke up, it was already dark outside.

His phone was flooded with notifications. Squinting his eyes and frowning, Xu Er replied to his boss and colleagues first before finally tapping on the chat with Xu Chen.

"Why can't I add him!" Xu Chen had messaged. "The other party has set their profile to prevent being added via name card."
"Ahhhhhhh," he followed up.

Xu Er scrolled up, remembering that after their phone call at noon, Xu Chen had asked him for Song Ruichi’s WeChat contact.

Well, in that case.
Xu Er tapped away at his screen: "I can't help it either."

Xu Chen replied instantly: "I can't add him by his WeChat ID either. My heart is broken."
"How can he have everything blocked? Is it only possible to add him by phone number?"
"Is there any other way?"

Xu Er: "I don't know of any."

Xu Chen: "This is the closest I've ever been to my idol. I’m so frustrated!"
"What do I do? What do I do? Is there really no other way?"

Xu Er’s brow furrowed deeper. He put his phone down, stared vacantly at the pitch-black ceiling, and pondered seriously for nearly a minute—considering everything from social connections and life experience to digital communication.

Then.
Xu Er: "I could send him your contact card."
Xu Chen: "Huh???"
"That doesn't seem right."
Xu Er: "Why?"

Xu Chen felt instinctively that it was wrong, but faced with such a serious question from Xu Er, he suddenly didn't know what to say. It was true that if he sent it, it wouldn't really affect Song Ruichi; if he saw it and added him, great, and if he didn't, he simply wouldn't.

So.
Xu Chen: "It’s just not right."
"Don't you dare send it."
"You’re giving me social anxiety just thinking about it."

Xu Chen typed quickly, terrified that his brother might actually send it a second too late.

Xu Er: "I haven't yet."
Xu Er added: "But I’ve thought it over, and that’s the only way."
"Besides, what’s the difference between you adding him and him adding you?"

Xu Chen: "You’ve got me there."
"And then what? What would you say if you sent my card?"

Xu Er: "Hello, sorry to bother you. This is my younger brother, Xu Chen. He really likes you and would like to add you on WeChat. Would that be convenient?"

Xu Chen: "At first glance, that seems fine."
"But, who even am I?"
"Why would he add me?"

Xu Er: "Then why would he add me?"
"Who am I?"

Xu Chen was stumped again. He could almost imagine his brother’s expression—looking at him with confusion, wondering, *He added me, why wouldn't he add you?*

Xu Chen: "Good question!"
"I should be asking you that!"

Xu Chen even started to doubt if this was actually Song Ruichi’s real account; if it weren't for the fact that Xu Er was involved, he wouldn't have believed it for a second.

Xu Chen asked again: "Did you two talk about anything else later?"
Xu Er: "No."

***

Xu Chen: "Fine, then."
"Forget it, let's just leave it at that. Having you as a contact is practically having him as a contact."

At the end of the chat, Xu Chen emphasized one more time not to send his contact card to Song Ruichi, as it would be too presumptuous. Their conversation ended there.

After closing the chat with Xu Chen, Xu Er opened a food delivery app, decided on his dinner in a few quick taps, and then found himself with nothing to do.

He got out of bed, freshened up, opened his laptop, refreshed his desktop a few times, and then went to the balcony to water the plants.

He was truly bored. His friends often said he couldn't sit still, and looking at it now, they were probably right. Xu Er really wanted something to do, but today there was genuinely nothing left. After finishing the manuscript in the early hours of the morning, everything for this phase had been wrapped up.

He was now a completely idle man.

It wasn't that he loved working—he hated it. Who wouldn't want to be a lazy person with nothing to do? His problem was that as long as there were unfinished tasks, they would always weigh on his mind, and he wouldn't feel at ease until they were done.

Now that he was relaxed, he could easily drift into a state of emptiness, just like when he watched the sunrise this morning: his mind blank, his eyes fixed only on the beautiful, distant sun.

After watering the plants, another message from Xu Chen popped up. He was still thinking about Song Ruichi: "Brother, brother, brother, send me Song Ruichi’s profile picture."
But he immediately followed up: "Oh, never mind, I can see it on his name card."

Since they were talking about profile pictures.
Xu Er: "Do you recognize the cat in his profile picture?"
Xu Chen: "How would I know?"
Xu Er: "Fair enough."
"It’s quite cute."

It was, in fact, exceptionally cute. It was a photo of a grey-and-white cat resting in someone’s arms. The person was only visible by a sliver of their black shirt, and other than the build suggesting it was a man, there was no other information.

Xu Chen: "Why don't you ask him?"
"Start a conversation, go on!"
Xu Er: "Just ask him directly?"
Xu Chen: "Haha, it's up to you. I was just joking."
Xu Er: "'My brother wants to know if the cat in your profile picture is yours?'"
Xu Chen: "???"
"Don't ask, don't ask!"
Xu Er: "Hahaha."

Song Ruichi’s current ID was still just "s.". Fearing he might forget who this person was later, Xu Er changed his nickname to "Song Ruichi."

After saving the change, Xu Er clicked on Song Ruichi’s personal page. He realized why it looked different earlier—the section for Moments was now filled with images. He thought these were newly posted, but upon opening them, he saw the latest one was from seven days ago.

Song Ruichi no longer had his Moments set to "visible for only three days."

The latest post from seven days ago was about an art exhibition. The first eight photos were abstract paintings Xu Er couldn't quite understand, and the final one was a group photo featuring Song Ruichi.

Xu Er’s gaze lingered on the last photo. He pinched the screen to zoom in, focusing only on Song Ruichi.

*Well, he is quite handsome.*
He suddenly remembered the curled hairstyle Xu Chen had gotten last year.
*Hmm, hard to say.*

Song Ruichi didn't post often. With the month almost over, he had only posted twice. One was the exhibition post, the other was just text.

It was a very mundane post. He wrote, "Got soaked," followed by an expressionless emoji.

Xu Er checked the date and quickly recalled that day. It was hard not to—it was a coincidence that on that same day, Xu Er had also been caught in a sudden downpour and gotten soaked through.

Scrolling further down led to the previous month, which didn't have much of note. Song Ruichi must have been busy; his feed was filled with links.

They all came from the same studio. Xu Er, with a little clever deduction, inferred that this studio, called "In a Room," was likely where Song Ruichi worked.

Although he didn't understand the content, Xu Er clicked on every single link. He looked through every activity hosted by Song Ruichi’s studio—wood carvings, paintings, visiting guests. He didn't understand any of it, yet he didn't miss a single thing.

He kept scrolling.
And kept scrolling.

When he encountered daily life posts that weren't even particularly funny, he smiled. When he saw photos of Song Ruichi himself, whether in a group or alone, he zoomed in on every single one.

After looking at so many, he could visualize the layout of the studio in his mind. After looking at so many, he felt he understood a tiny, tiny bit more about Song Ruichi.

He shared his life, though not frequently. He couldn't quite pinpoint what it was, but he could sense a touch of an artist's aura about him.

Xu Er quite liked it.

Six months of Moments actually wasn't that much, but Xu Er spent nearly half an hour going through them. It wasn't until he reached the line saying "Friends can only show the last six months of Moments" that he stopped.

Xu Er didn't usually look at other people's Moments; he would just scan through those of new acquaintances. But he didn't think much of it, simply satisfied that he had discovered the change in Song Ruichi’s settings.

With his mind still empty and drifting, he went to his own Moments.
He suddenly thought of something.
Last month, on that same day and at the same hour, Xu Er had also complained about the weather.

Yes, he had posted about it too.
"I hate the rain that doesn't call before it comes."

He had thought he was quite humorous at the time, admiring the post by himself for a while, almost bursting with joy. Now, the fact that he and Song Ruichi had complained about the same weather at the same time—back when they didn't even know each other—made him almost burst with joy all over again.

However, a delivery call soon interrupted his happiness.

He ordered rice noodles for himself. As he took the first bite, he opened WeChat again. He just wanted to browse aimlessly, but he noticed a notification on the Moments tab.

Xu Er clicked in and found the notification was from the cat profile picture, accompanied by a heart icon.

Song Ruichi had liked the last post in Xu Er’s six-month-visible feed.

That "burst of joy" from earlier, hidden and quiet, was reignited in this very moment.

The noodle Xu Er had lifted first touched the corner of his mouth before finding its way into his mouth.

In that case.
Xu Er set down his chopsticks after that bite, opened Song Ruichi’s Moments again, scrolled all the way to the bottom, and liked his first post as well.

Consider it, a return gift.

After liking it, Xu Er left Song Ruichi’s page and exited the app. Just as he was about to check other apps, the update indicator on the Moments tab appeared again, next to the cat profile picture.

Song Ruichi had posted something new.

Xu Er clicked on it. It was posted just moments ago. A photo and a line of text.
He opened the full image: a sunrise and a silhouette.

Xu Er laughed instantly.
How could he not?
The sunrise was the one from this morning, and the silhouette was Xu Er from this morning.

Song Ruichi’s caption: "Is it you?"

Xu Er couldn't help but curve his eyes. He clicked on the comments for this post and typed two characters.

"It's me."

Not enough. He added an exclamation mark.

"It's me!"