The horizon stretched out endlessly as the seagulls traced arcs in the sky. The surging waves blurred the boundary between sea and sky, and the sea breeze scattered the clouds, allowing the sunlight to spill uninhibited across the vast, free ocean. The shimmering water glistened with the wind.
Lin Ran stood on the observation deck, slightly hunched over, his hands resting against the railing.
He quietly watched the people on the sun-drenched deck below.
Song Xingyu, leaning casually against the railing beside him, didn’t bother hiding his thoughts around Lin Ran. His deep voice carried on the wind, reaching Lin Ran’s ears. “Why June next year?”
June next year.
Lin Ran knew exactly what Song Xingyu was referring to.
His fingers curled slightly, and his gaze lowered.
Sheng Qingxi was leaning over the railing with a little girl by her side, their heads close together as they whispered about something, seemingly unaware of the world around them.
Lin Ran withdrew his gaze and turned toward Song Xingyu, lazily replying, “Because next June is the college entrance exams. I need to study hard and make progress every day, you get that? I don’t think you do.”
Song Xingyu: “…?”
For a moment, he thought he must have misheard.
Adjusting his glasses, Song Xingyu gave Lin Ran an earnest look, though the smile on his lips was clearly perfunctory. “Sorry, Lin Ran, what did you just say? It’s windy up here, I didn’t catch that.”
Lin Ran met Song Xingyu’s gaze without the slightest bit of hesitation and repeated, “I said, I need to study hard and make progress every day.”
Song Xingyu was silent for a moment. Apparently, Lin Ran was serious.
He wasn’t just joking around.
The sun was shining brightly on the deck, and the sea breeze was strong.
Sheng Lan didn’t let the children run wild for long. After about half an hour, she herded them all back indoors.
Once inside, the kids became remarkably well-behaved. They sat in orderly rows on small stools, holding their little bowls with their chubby hands, waiting for lunch.
Xie Zhen and He Mo didn’t know where all these children had come from, but they found it intriguing.
Xie Zhen nodded toward the group of kids. “Mozi, those kids are pretty well-behaved. I thought we’d spend the day drowning in screams and crying, but it looks like I might get a good nap this afternoon.”
He Mo, on the other hand, had a lingering sense that something was off, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
After thinking for a moment, he replied, “Yeah, they’re well-behaved, but there’s something strange about it.”
Song Xingyu was cutting his steak at a leisurely pace. The steak had been airlifted to the ship, and it was fresh, flavorful, and tender.
Hearing Xie Zhen and He Mo discussing the kids, he glanced up.
He had noticed something before they boarded. The kids were all wearing identical styles of shoes and clothing, but it was clearly not a school uniform. And then there were the bracelets they were all wearing.
More than that, he had overheard on the deck that all the children referred to the middle-aged woman as “Mama Sheng.”
Even the girl Lin Ran liked called her that, while Song Shiman called her “Aunt Sheng.”
Noticing Xie Zhen and He Mo’s growing confusion, Song Xingyu quietly explained, “They’re probably orphans.”
A clatter suddenly broke the silence.
Xie Zhen had dropped his fork onto the table. He couldn’t help but look over at the kids again.
Lin Ran frowned. “Ah Zhen.”
Xie Zhen awkwardly averted his gaze and muttered, “Brother Ran, are the fairy and Song Shiman volunteering at an orphanage or something? They seem to get along pretty naturally with the kids.”
He Mo chimed in, “Doesn’t the fairy live in the west part of the city? I remember there’s an orphanage over there.”
He couldn’t help but sigh. “I bet she visits the orphanage a lot. She’s really kind.”
As the conversation shifted to Sheng Qingxi, Song Xingyu remained silent, keeping his thoughts to himself.
Lin Ran’s expression darkened. He knew that Sheng Qingxi wasn’t secretive about this part of her life; she was always open about her background.
But that didn’t mean he wanted to hear others discussing it.
Lin Ran’s gaze drifted past Xie Zhen and the others, landing on Sheng Qingxi at the neighboring table. She and the other two girls were eating quietly, speaking softly among themselves. Sheng Qingxi had a gentle smile, her eyes curved as she patiently listened to Lin Yanyan talking.
Lin Ran found himself lost in thought. Moments like these were perfect just as they were.
After lunch, the children lined up to take their afternoon nap.
Xie Zhen and He Mo, having woken up early that morning, slipped back to their rooms for a nap as well. Song Xingyu, who didn’t have a habit of napping, grabbed his swim trunks and headed to the entertainment area to swim.
Song Shiman let out a small yawn and muttered, “Xiao Xi, do you want to take a nap? I’m so sleepy.”
Sheng Qingxi had never been one to nap, even in her past life. Due to her work back then, she had very little time to rest, and whenever she could, she would seize the opportunity to catch up on sleep, regardless of day or night.
Bringing Lin Yanyan along, she followed Song Shiman toward the cabins. “You and Yanyan can take a nap. I’ll go back to my room and finish my holiday assignments.”
Song Shiman knew Sheng Qingxi liked to finish her homework early, so she waved her off. “Alright, we’ll take a nap then.”
After making sure Song Shiman and Lin Yanyan had entered their room and closed the door, Sheng Qingxi turned toward her own room, just a few steps away, as their cabins were adjacent.
The room card beeped softly as it touched the sensor on the door.
The hallway was carpeted, muffling her footsteps until they were barely audible.
With her gaze lowered, Sheng Qingxi’s eyelashes trembled slightly.
In an instant, the atmosphere changed. Her right hand twitched, and before the approaching figure could get any closer, she swiftly grabbed their wrist and prepared to counter. Her feet moved instinctively, following through with the motion.
But just as she was about to strike, she stopped.
She stared in surprise at the frowning boy in front of her. “Lin Ran, I…”
Didn’t know it was you.
She immediately loosened her grip.
Lin Ran’s wrist was still firmly held in her hand. When she had lunged at him earlier, his body had instinctively prepared to defend itself, but he had forced himself to suppress the reaction.
It wasn’t strange for a girl to know self-defense.
But Sheng Qingxi’s movements weren’t typical self-defense; they resembled military combat techniques. Lin Ran’s uncle had served in the military, and when he was younger, he often saw his uncle practicing martial arts in the courtyard.
He was no stranger to these kinds of combat techniques.
Judging from Sheng Qingxi’s reflexes and speed, she was clearly not a beginner.
Before she could release him, Lin Ran flipped his hand and caught hers, pulling her into the room with him. Sheng Qingxi followed him inside without resistance, biting her lip, unsure how to explain herself.
“Click.”
The door automatically closed with a soft sound.
The room was tidy, and after giving it a quick glance, Lin Ran let go of Sheng Qingxi.
She raised her eyes cautiously and glanced at Lin Ran. “Lin Ran, I’m sorry.”
His expression was unreadable as he looked down at her. “Why are you apologizing?”
Sheng Qingxi’s gaze fell on his wrist, and she whispered, “I was afraid I might hurt you.”
Would Sheng Qingxi actually hurt Lin Ran?
That was something even Lin Ran couldn’t answer for sure. Her strikes were too precise. Back in the alley, when she hadn’t been able to block the metal rod in time, she had taken the hit directly. Not once had she cried out in pain.
And now, after today’s incident, Lin Ran couldn’t help but think more about it.
His brows furrowed, and his voice carried a repressed emotion as he asked, “Do you get hurt often?”
The question came out of nowhere, but it left Sheng Qingxi momentarily lost in thought.
In her first two years at the police academy, Sheng Qingxi’s body had been covered in bruises of all sizes. At the time, she hadn’t dared waste a single second, not even sparing time to visit the infirmary. It was her roommates who couldn’t bear it any longer and bought her medicine. They wouldn’t let her out to run or practice until they had watched her apply it.
After starting her job, she had suffered both knife and gun wounds. Often, the circumstances didn’t allow for proper treatment, and she had to crudely patch herself up.
Sheng Qingxi had always been afraid of pain. As a child, when she had to get shots, Sheng Lan had to comfort her for a long time beforehand. It had taken her ten years to go from needing to be coaxed for a shot to enduring injuries in silence.
Pulling herself out of her chaotic memories, Sheng Qingxi looked at Lin Ran without speaking.
She wanted to say she rarely got hurt, but seeing the depth in Lin Ran’s dark eyes, she couldn’t bring herself to lie to him.
So, she simply shook her head slowly.
Lin Ran didn’t press her for answers. He sat down on the bed and changed the subject. “If you’re not napping, what are you planning to do in your room?”
Lin Ran knew Sheng Qingxi didn’t nap. Whenever he went to look for her during lunch at Class 6, she was always awake. Even when the rest of the class was fast asleep, she remained unaffected.
Sheng Qingxi replied honestly, “I’m going to work on my homework.”
Lin Ran raised an eyebrow at that. His long legs shifted as he turned to lie down on the bed, acting like a playful rogue. “Then don’t disturb me while I sleep. Keep it quiet while you do your homework.”
Sheng Qingxi: “…”
She hesitated for a moment before asking for confirmation, “You’re really going to sleep here?”
Lin Ran gave her a lazy smile. “Good afternoon.”
With that, he closed his eyes.
Sheng Qingxi sighed softly in her heart and turned to pull the curtains shut. The room, already dim, grew darker, and the atmosphere subtly shifted.
Though his eyes were closed, Lin Ran remained acutely aware of her movements.
The faint rustle of fabric, the careful pull of the chair, the soft click as the desk lamp turned on, the quiet scratching of a pen against paper.
There was a faint sweetness in the air.
In this peaceful and quiet environment, Lin Ran eventually drifted off to sleep.
The cruise ship was scheduled to arrive at the island at 3 p.m., and at 2:30, the sound of the ship’s horn echoed, signaling their approach.
The tranquil afternoon slowly stirred from its slumber.
Lin Ran’s eyes shot open abruptly, his breathing slightly ragged.
In his mind, the sound of Sheng Qingxi’s panicked cries still lingered. She had been calling his name, again and again, with a frantic urgency—
Lin Ran, Lin Ran.
Sheng Qingxi was focused on the questions on her exam paper, completely unaware of the deep sound of the ship’s horn.
With her head lowered, she calmly and methodically wrote down a clear and concise solution.
Perhaps it was because she knew Lin Ran was there that she let her guard down as she sat at the desk. She didn’t notice that the boy who had just woken from his sleep was gradually approaching her.
It wasn’t until a shadow fell over the desk that Sheng Qingxi finally realized someone was standing behind her.
She turned and looked up.
Lin Ran was leaning slightly forward, and from behind, it seemed as though he was enveloping Sheng Qingxi in his arms.
His warm breath was just inches away from her.
At that moment, Lin Ran didn’t seem fully awake. His dark eyes were clouded with a mix of emotions as he gazed down at her.
As Sheng Qingxi sat there, stunned, Lin Ran’s slightly hoarse voice sounded from above her. “Sheng Qingxi, have we met before? Not this year… but a long time ago.”