Xie Ruan urgently wanted to confirm whether Bo Jin had depression, but for the moment, he couldn’t think of a good way to ask.
He couldn’t just directly ask—it might come off as nonsense, and what if Bo Jin wanted to hide it and refused to admit it?
Hinting wouldn’t work either; given Bo Jin’s intelligence, Xie Ruan doubted he could get any information out of him that way.
He set his phone on the desk and looked up at Bo Jin, wondering if there was some way he could swap brains with He Mingjie just this once.
If only this guy weren’t so sharp, he wouldn’t have been stuck worrying over this for so long.
Lost in thought, Xie Ruan stared at Bo Jin a bit too long.
They were seatmates, and even if Bo Jin were slow, he would have noticed, especially since he was always paying attention to Xie Ruan.
Just as he turned to tease him, he caught sight of Xie Ruan’s phone screen and paused.
Earlier, Xie Ruan had racked his brain for a foolproof plan but had ended up frustrating himself, so he had unconsciously searched for information on depression on his phone. The screen currently displayed those search results.
A list of therapists and hotline numbers practically burned into Bo Jin’s eyes.
Why would Xie Ruan be searching about depression? Was it just out of curiosity, or was he dealing with something himself?
For the first time, Bo Jin was grateful for his own sharp memory.
Recalling Xie Ruan’s recent behavior, he noticed nothing unusual aside from those few days over the break. But he wasn’t sure—he wasn’t a psychologist, and he didn’t have the expertise to make a proper assessment.
His mind raced through possible explanations, but his face remained unreadable.
He glanced around the room, ensuring no one else was nearby to hear, and then gently pressed Xie Ruan’s phone down, asking, “Why were you searching for information on depression?”
As he spoke, he watched Xie Ruan’s face closely, not wanting to miss even the slightest reaction.
“Huh?” Xie Ruan froze, momentarily unable to process how Bo Jin knew he’d been searching about depression. Following Bo Jin’s gaze to his phone, he realized he’d forgotten to disable the screen’s always-on mode after copying some quotes last night.
A thought struck him—this was exactly the opportunity he’d been waiting for!
Testing the waters, Xie Ruan asked, “What do you think about depression?”
“What do I think?” Bo Jin, trying to keep things light so as not to make Xie Ruan feel judged, said casually, “It’s just a common illness, no big deal. With timely medication and therapy, people recover quickly.”
He then realized that finding a good doctor was crucial. Getting stuck with a bad one was minor, but mismanagement could worsen things.
Bo Jin made up his mind to skip his next class and go back to the dorm to search for reputable doctors on his computer.
Letting out a breath, he dimmed Xie Ruan’s phone screen. “Stop searching on Baidu, didn’t you know Baidu cancer? It’s not a big deal—leave it to me. I’ll look into it and find a good hospital for you. If there’s an issue, let’s address it.”
To ease any worries Xie Ruan might have, he draped an arm around him with a grin. “Your thoughtful seatmate here is ready to fulfill your every need.”
Right now, Xie Ruan wasn’t even focused on his words—his mind was still stuck on Bo Jin’s plan to look into it. His eyes brightened, and he eagerly asked, “Wait, so you don’t know much about depression?”
Bo Jin was taken aback.
That question made it sound like he was supposed to know.
So he was seen as some kind of all-knowing figure in Xie Ruan’s eyes?
Relishing that implied admiration, Bo Jin gave a soft cough and put on a nonchalant front. “Not right now, but soon enough.”
After all, no one wouldn’t know about their own diagnosis.
Relieved, Xie Ruan finally relaxed.
So he didn’t have depression—that was a huge relief. Depression was a dangerous illness, and he couldn’t be around Bo Jin at all times. If it had been a real issue, he wouldn’t have had time to react in a crisis.
But wait—why was Bo Jin planning on finding him a hospital? Did he think he had depression?
Xie Ruan: “…”
Is this what they mean by “the suspicious are often suspected themselves”?
He quickly clarified, “I don’t have depression, you don’t need to assume.”
Bo Jin narrowed his eyes, studying Xie Ruan’s face. “Really?” He looked probing. “Then why were you searching about depression for no reason?”
And when I said I’d help you get treated, you didn’t immediately deny it.
Having read up on depression recently, Xie Ruan could at least improvise an excuse. Leaning back against the wall, he said offhandedly, “Oh, one of my favorite celebrities—his manager posted on Weibo that he’s showing signs of depression, so I wanted to learn more.”
He was referring to a popular actor with both fans and haters, who often appeared on trending searches due to heated debates among his followers.
Fan?
Fan how? The “wife” kind of fan?
Bo Jin internally scoffed. Was he not tall enough, or was his face lacking? Had he really let some “pretty boy” dance into Xie Ruan’s mind?
All that concern over whether someone was depressed. This brat—he hadn’t seen him show this much concern for him.
Feeling a pang of jealousy, Bo Jin quickly looked up the celebrity on his own phone, snorting.
This guy? Shorter than him, not as good-looking—what was the appeal? The only thing he had on Bo Jin was a freshly-minted Master’s degree this year.
Bo Jin smiled, suddenly feeling the urge to check the plagiarism rate on that celebrity’s thesis.
Xie Ruan had no idea what was going on in Bo Jin’s mind. After a moment of happiness, he fell back into confusion.
If it wasn’t depression, then why had he tried to commit suicide?
He glanced at Bo Jin, who was absorbed in his phone and not paying attention. Xie Ruan opened his usual notebook, jotting down notes as he analyzed the situation.
Could it be that something significant had happened in his life?
Unlikely.
According to the book, Bo Jin had never once slipped from first place in exams, and as for family matters, well, that was even more absurd—he was the only one left in his family.
Could it be related to his past?
Xie Ruan had always found it puzzling that Bo Jin had never been adopted. A smart kid like him should have been in high demand.
Sunshine Orphanage, Boss Wang’s tea house.
Xie Ruan bit the end of his pen, circling those two terms and deciding to start with them. The orphanage wasn’t far from their school, but he wasn’t sure if he could just walk in. It’d be easier to begin with Boss Wang’s tea house.
Last time they went to eat there, Bo Jin seemed quite close to Boss Wang, and Sun Haoxiang had mentioned they’d known each other for years.
Having sorted out his thoughts, Xie Ruan put down his pen and noticed that he had unconsciously filled an entire page. With mentions of depression, rooftops, and suicide prevention, it looked rather alarming.
He clicked his tongue but didn’t pay it much mind, closing the notebook and placing it at the corner of his desk.
At Shijia High, students have a half-day off on Sunday afternoons.
That Sunday, Xie Ruan turned down Song Xinghe’s offer to go downtown for a meal. Once he left campus, he headed straight for the tea house, unaware that Bo Jin was following him.
The recent depression scare had Bo Jin on edge. Afraid that Xie Ruan wasn’t being honest, he had been keeping a close eye on him for the past few days. The moment Xie Ruan turned down Song Xinghe, he knew about it.
This was unusual. Other than Song Xinghe, Xie Ruan had no close friends, and they were usually inseparable except during holiday breaks.
Why would he suddenly brush Song Xinghe off? What was he planning?
No matter how he thought about it, Bo Jin couldn’t shake the worry. Concerned that Xie Ruan might do something foolish, he decided to follow. Creepy or not, he’d stop as soon as he confirmed Xie Ruan was fine.
Though he’d psyched himself up, his legs still felt weak at the sight of the high overpass ahead.
Ever since he’d realized he had a fear of heights, Xie Ruan had been careful to avoid high places unless absolutely necessary.
Come to think of it, the last time he crossed a pedestrian bridge was with Bo Jin.
Bo Jin. Bo Jin.
Thinking about all the kindness Bo Jin had shown him, Xie Ruan braced himself and began to climb the stairs.
Not far behind, Bo Jin watched as Xie Ruan walked up the bridge, taking small steps forward and pausing for deep breaths. He wanted to step in several times but restrained himself.
He needed to know where Xie Ruan was headed. He could stop him once, but not repeatedly. He had to find the root cause to really solve the issue.
That logic aside, Bo Jin’s patience was stretched thin. Watching Xie Ruan’s struggling form, he irrationally blamed the bridge. Why even build one out here? Were the roads not wide enough?
Finally, ten minutes later, Xie Ruan managed to cross the bridge. He rested on a bench at the bus stop to catch his breath, then continued toward the tea house.
As much as Bo Jin tried to imagine why he would go there, he hadn’t seen this coming.
Was he just going for food? Bo Jin knew how much Xie Ruan liked the soy sauce chicken and BBQ pork there.
But it wasn’t even mealtime, and Xie Ruan had eaten lunch. If he’d wanted a snack, he could have brought Song Xinghe; there was no need to come alone.
Then…
Most of the nearby shop owners knew Bo Jin, so he didn’t dare get too close and stayed across the street.
He took out a cigarette but didn’t light it, holding it in his mouth as he observed.
For the first time in his life, self-assured Bo Jin felt uncertain. Why would Xie Ruan be here?
The only connection he had to this place was himself…
Thinking of that possibility, Bo Jin’s heart skipped a beat.
Inside, Boss Wang, who was about to close for the day, turned to tell the visitor they were finished when he saw Xie Ruan’s face and froze.
“You’re Little Bo’s classmate, aren’t you?”
Bo Jin rarely brought classmates to his place unless they were close friends. Plus, Xie Ruan’s striking looks left a strong impression, even on someone as stern as Boss Wang.
The elderly folks didn’t use many adjectives; they just felt that this kid was particularly handsome, like a celebrity at first glance. Truly worthy of being Little Bo’s friend.
“Yes,” Xie Ruan flashed a thumbs-up, throwing in some flattery. “It’s impressive you remember me after all this time.”
Boss Wang had no kids of his own, so he had a soft spot for charming young people. Hearing this, he couldn’t keep his stern face and, unusually, smiled, waving his hand, “Nothing to it.”
After a pause, he added, “Mainly because you’re good-looking.”
Boss Wang enjoyed the company of young people, and with Xie Ruan’s intentional friendliness, the atmosphere grew amicable, almost as if they were old friends.
After a bit of chit-chat, Boss Wang remembered to ask about Xie Ruan’s purpose there, reluctantly breaking off the conversation. “Did you come here to eat?”
Xie Ruan couldn’t very well say he was here to ask about Bo Jin—that would only make Boss Wang wary. So, he nodded and said, “Yes, I couldn’t get your cooking out of my mind after the last time, so I came right after my break.”
Spending so much time with Bo Jin had thickened his skin; lying like this didn’t faze him at all.
As a chef, there’s nothing they love more than being praised for their cooking.
Boss Wang laughed, feeling a bit more warmth toward Xie Ruan. But then he sighed, “You’re a bit late; everything in the store is sold out.”
After thinking about it, he offered, “I could make you some fried rice with egg.”
Xie Ruan had eaten lunch, so he didn’t really need anything more, but he needed an excuse to stay, so he nodded. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” Boss Wang replied, grabbing the apron from the wall. As he tied it on, he added, “Don’t underestimate egg fried rice. That’s what got Bo Jin hooked on this place.”
Xie Ruan was taken aback. Last time, he had asked Bo Jin how he discovered this restaurant, and Bo Jin had said he followed the smell. Xie Ruan had thought he was just joking, but it turned out to be true.
Boss Wang opened the fridge and took out some leftover rice from the previous day. Initially, he thought of using only half, but then he remembered that young men of this age have big appetites. Not wanting Xie Ruan to go hungry, he decided to use it all.
Fried rice with egg is simple and takes only a few minutes. As Xie Ruan played on his phone, Boss Wang soon came out carrying a big bowl. “Here, give it a try!”
Xie Ruan: “!!!”
Is Boss Wang feeding pigs with this bowl or what?!
Rubbing his face, Xie Ruan admitted honestly, “It’s too much; I won’t be able to finish it.”
Elderly folks often think young people can eat endlessly. Hearing this, Boss Wang glared, “Of course you can! Eat up! Look how thin you are—clearly not eating enough.”
Xie Ruan tried to protest, “I really can’t finish…”
But Boss Wang was unmoved, “Just start. I’m telling you, everyone who eats my fried rice ends up licking the plate.”
Well, alright. Xie Ruan resignedly lowered his head, unable to refuse Boss Wang’s kindness, and took a spoonful.
One bite in, his eyes lit up.
Whatever Boss Wang had added, the rice was aromatic without being greasy—it was delicious.
Seeing Xie Ruan’s expression, Boss Wang chuckled with pride. “See? I wasn’t lying. Bo Jin had this, and then kept pestering me to take him on as an apprentice!”
Xie Ruan, wanting him to keep talking, eagerly responded, “As your apprentice? How old was he then?”
Boss Wang replied, “Five years old.”
He raised his hand to show a height. Smiling, he added, “He was only this tall, but refused to leave. He said no one but him could carry on my cooking skills. Told me I should consider it carefully and not pass up such a ‘talent.’”
This self-confidence and arrogance were exactly like Bo Jin today.
Xie Ruan couldn’t help but laugh, “What happened then?”
“Then?” Boss Wang took a sip of water, “Of course, I couldn’t agree—he was just a kid! But he kept coming by, a little thing who’d go nowhere else, just sitting right there…”
Boss Wang pointed to a spot. “He’d watch me like a supervisor. Don’t laugh, but even as a child, he had a presence. Sometimes, he’d stare so intensely that it made my scalp tingle.”
Xie Ruan swallowed another spoonful of rice, absentmindedly stirring it as he asked, “He could come out so often? Didn’t the orphanage care?”
Boss Wang looked surprised, “You knew?”
Xie Ruan nodded. For some reason, he felt a hint of satisfaction, his lips curling slightly before he quickly composed himself. “He told me.”
Boss Wang sighed, “The orphanage was right behind us, and back then, supervision wasn’t strict. Kids sneaking out was common. But now it’s harder—they rarely let anyone in or out.”
Difficult to get in? Xie Ruan mentally took note.
“And he…” Xie Ruan hesitated, then asked, “Did he stay in the orphanage the whole time?”
It wasn’t a secret; the neighbors all knew. Boss Wang nodded, not hiding it from Xie Ruan, whom Bo Jin had personally brought here. “Yes.”
Talking about it, Boss Wang became annoyed, wishing he could go back ten years and give young Bo Jin a talking-to. “My wife and I didn’t have kids. We wanted to adopt him, but he stubbornly refused. Can you believe it? He was so young but already so determined.”
Boss Wang never got over it; if not for Bo Jin’s stubbornness, they would have been a family by now. He added, “I thought he wanted a wealthier family than ours, but even when well-off families tried, he wouldn’t budge.”
Stunned, Xie Ruan had never guessed that Bo Jin’s reason for staying unadopted was his own choice. “Why?”
“No idea,” Boss Wang shook his head, “He wouldn’t agree, no matter what. I asked him why, and he’d just say he wanted to stay at the orphanage.”
As he ate, Xie Ruan pondered.
Not wanting to be adopted—something about it felt off.
Present-day Bo Jin might enjoy independence, but why would he, as a young child, reject a family?
Was there a reason for this?
Lost in thought, Xie Ruan didn’t respond even when Boss Wang called his name twice. Finally, Boss Wang gave him a light nudge, “What are you thinking about? Hurry and eat—it’ll get cold fast in this weather.”
Xie Ruan snapped back to reality, quickly replying, “Right!”
Finishing the oversized bowl of fried rice, he was so full he could barely walk and almost stumbled when he stood up. Steadying himself on the wall, he asked Boss Wang, “How much is it?”
“No charge,” Boss Wang dismissed the question with a wave, “It’s just a bowl of fried rice. I can afford to treat you to that.”
“But…” Xie Ruan, uncomfortable in these situations, didn’t know how to respond. He tried to quietly scan the QR code to pay, but Boss Wang noticed.
The old man pushed him toward the door, “Alright, off you go now. I’m closing up.”
With no other option, and not wanting to argue with him, Xie Ruan spotted a fruit shop nearby. He bought a box of strawberries, tossed it into Boss Wang’s shop, and ran off, laughing as he heard Boss Wang’s light-hearted scolding.
“This is something,” Boss Wang muttered, looking at the box of strawberries, half amused, half exasperated. “I suppose I still got the better end of the deal.”
There was no helping it; the person had already left, and he couldn’t very well chase after him with his old bones. Next time, he’d cook up something and have Little Bo bring it over.
And speak of the devil—there he was.
Boss Wang picked up the box of strawberries and reached for his keys to lock up the shop, but just as he looked up, Bo Jin walked through the door.
“Hey, what brings you here?” He glanced outside, asking Bo Jin, “Your friend just left—did you see him? The really good-looking one named Xie Ruan.”
“Nope,” Bo Jin replied casually, sounding convincingly indifferent. “He was here?”
In fact, he had been standing outside the entire time Xie Ruan was in the shop.
The longer he thought about why Xie Ruan would be here, the more he became convinced that his guess was correct. Xie Ruan was probably here because of him.
Bo Jin had never felt time drag as much as it had while waiting. Not even during his worst nights of insomnia. The moment Xie Ruan left, he couldn’t hold back any longer and came straight in to confirm it.
Calming himself, Bo Jin asked, “What was he doing here?”
Boss Wang gave him a funny look, thinking he must be too absorbed in his studies to think clearly, and shot back, “What do you think? Eating, of course.”
“No, I mean…” Bo Jin laughed, changing his wording, “I meant, what did he talk to you about?”
“Oh, not much,” Boss Wang replied with a smile, clearly fond of Xie Ruan. “He just asked a few questions about your childhood.” He then glanced at Bo Jin with a mischievous grin. “I told him about the time you insisted on being my apprentice, and he thought it was hilarious.”
Bo Jin had always considered this part of his past a sore spot and had forbidden anyone from bringing it up once he got older. Boss Wang loved to pull it out whenever he wanted to tease him.
But this time, Bo Jin didn’t mind.
He asked about my childhood.
Bo Jin closed his eyes, emotions stirring within him.
Xie Ruan had chosen to spend his precious holiday time not with friends or at a movie or a basketball game, but stepping cautiously across a bridge despite his fear of heights and coming to this out-of-the-way alley, just to learn more about him…
Bo Jin took a deep breath and abruptly turned to leave.
Forget giving him time to figure out his own heart. He was going to pursue him, starting now.
If he needed security, he’d give it to him. If he wouldn’t make the first move, then Bo Jin would.
Xie Ruan didn’t have to do anything—just wait for him.
