August moved even faster.

Worth noting: two of the stocks Xu Ye had bought hit their daily upper limit for seven consecutive trading days. By mid-August, his brokerage account had reached 570,000 yuan. The million-yuan goal was more than halfway done.

University enrollment for new students generally fell at the end of August — which meant military orientation training was approaching, and Xu Ye’s summer job was coming to an end.

The night of the 24th.

After closing up, Pei Youwei had Zhou Ying lock the front door. The four of them sat down together at one of the tables, and Pei Youwei handed Xu Ye his final month’s wages in a red packet.

“Boss — is this too much?” Xu Ye weighed it in his hand. It was heavier than expected.

Pei Youwei smiled. “Some of that is from me personally. A going-to-university red packet. Buy yourself something nice to wear for the new chapter.”

“Boss, that’s too generous—”

Zhang Xiaonuan rolled her eyes. “Come off it. You’ve got the thickest skin of anyone I know. Don’t pretend to be embarrassed.”

“Xiaonuan jiejie, that’s a bit harsh.”

“Fine, fine, I take it back.”

Xu Ye went and grabbed a bottle of beer and four glasses, poured one for each of them, and raised his.

“Thank you to the boss and both of you for looking after me these past two and a half months. I’ll definitely come back to visit when I have time.”

“About time you said something decent.”

Four glasses met across the table. The evening stretched out in the comfortable way it does when people don’t want it to end, and all of them said the same thing: that time had gone too fast.

Pei Youwei, Xiaonuan, Zhou Ying — none of them wanted him to go. He’d changed the atmosphere of the place, in ways that were hard to articulate but easy to feel.

But every gathering ends. And this one was ending because he was going to university.

After midnight, Pei Youwei finally waved her hand. “Alright. Late enough. That’s a wrap.”

Xu Ye stood up and turned to Zhou Ying with his arms open. “Ying jiejie — one for the road?”

Zhou Ying didn’t make a fuss. She stepped forward and hugged him.

“Xiaonuan jiejie~”

Xiaonuan smiled and hugged him too.

“And my favorite boss — I mean, my most warm-hearted boss—”

He and Pei Youwei were the last two.

He hugged her and didn’t let go.

Zhou Ying muttered: “Am I imagining it, or did he hug us just so he could get to hugging the boss?”

Xiaonuan: “No, that’s definitely what happened.”

Pei Youwei, who had been feeling a pang of something she didn’t want to name, found the laughter taking the edge off it. She finally pushed him away.

“Are you going to hold on all night?”

Xu Ye let go and grinned. “I just don’t want to leave.”

She gave him a look and flicked her hand. “Go on. Don’t act like we’ll never see each other again.”

He smiled, took one last look around the bar, then raised a hand and walked out.

Xiaonuan and Zhou Ying left together.

Pei Youwei sat back down. One hand under her chin, the other still. She looked out at the street, the night already deep, and the quiet settled around her along with something heavier.

Thirty-something years old, she thought. The age when goodbyes start to cost more.

A good night’s sleep. The next morning, Xu Ye picked up his phone and called Qingqing.

She’d just come downstairs. Her phone was on the couch, and Jiang Meilin was closer — she picked it up and glanced at the screen.

Caller ID: one fat little pig.

She set it back down immediately.

When Qingqing came into the living room, she picked up the phone, saw who it was, and headed upstairs.

“You could just text. Why call?”

“My internet’s been bad.”

“What is it?”

“The bar job is finished. Want to go to the mall this afternoon?”

“Shopping?”

“Yeah — I don’t even own a suitcase. And you’ll need to pack for Shanghai too, right? Might as well get it all sorted now.”

Qingqing looked around her room at the mountain of supplies Wang Ruxue had bought her over the past few days. She was missing essentially nothing.

She paused for a moment.

“Okay.”

“See you this afternoon then?”

“Okay.”

Click.

Qingqing came back downstairs. Jiang Meilin looked up with studied casualness.

“Who was that?”

“Xu Ye.”

Before she met him, Qingqing’s phone had gone whole weeks without ringing. Claiming it was anyone else wouldn’t have been believable.

“He asked you out?”

“We’re going to buy luggage.”

Jiang Meilin took her daughter’s hand. “There’s something I want to tell you. You’re leaving for Shanghai the day after tomorrow, and I have to go tomorrow morning — but I called your father. He’s agreed to take you.”

Qingqing’s expression went cold. “I don’t want him to.”

“It’s the first time he’s ever offered. Just this once—”

“No.”

She pulled her hand away, took her phone, and went back upstairs.

Jiang Meilin sighed and opened WeChat.

Jiang Meilin: your daughter doesn’t want you taking her to Shanghai.

Chen Hansong: if you’re not going and I’m not going, who takes her? it’s her first time away.

Jiang Meilin: she was firm.

Chen Hansong: I’ll come over tonight. set an extra place for dinner.

Jiang Meilin hesitated. Then typed: okay.

That afternoon, Xu Ye took a taxi to the Red Leaf Estate entrance.

He wasn’t a resident. The guard stopped him before he got ten feet.

He sent Qingqing two messages. She came out almost immediately, walked up, and brought him in herself.

“Why did you come straight here?”

“Having Auntie Wang drive out to pick me up every time feels a bit much.”

Qingqing gave a quiet scoff. “You? Feeling guilty about something?”

“Obviously.”

“My mom’s home, by the way.”

“I’m not worried. She’s not going to chase me out with a broom.”

They were already in the courtyard when he said it — and at that exact moment, Jiang Meilin came out to meet them, wearing a warm smile.

“Xiao Xu, you’re here.” [TL: 小许 (Xiǎo Xǔ) — a diminutive form of his surname, Xu, used as an affectionate nickname. Roughly equivalent to calling someone by a pet name like “little Xu.” Previously Jiang Meilin had called him by his full name; this shift to 小许 signals a meaningful change in warmth and familiarity.]

Xu Ye looked briefly surprised and quickly recovered. “Hello, Auntie Jiang.”

“Come in.”

Qingqing couldn’t figure out what had gotten into her mother. She’d always called him by his full name before. Xiao Xu was something else entirely.

Xu Ye changed into the guest slippers. Jiang Meilin hovered. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“He doesn’t need—”

Qingqing cut her off on his behalf. “We’re heading out.”

“Oh — should I call Ruxue to drive you two?”

Before Qingqing could respond, Xu Ye stepped in. “Auntie — if you trust me, I can drive.”

“You?”

“I got my license this summer.”

Jiang Meilin frowned slightly. “You were working nights the whole summer. When did you find time for driving school?”

“You find time when you need to. I passed Module Two and Three both on the first attempt — the instructor said I was a natural.”

Something shifted in Jiang Meilin’s expression.

Taking a job at the bar. Getting a driver’s license in parallel. Scoring high enough on the gaokao to choose his university. He was not the kind of eighteen-year-old who drifted.

Qingqing trusted him without hesitation. She walked over and handed him the car keys, then went to change her shoes.

Seeing Jiang Meilin still watching with a trace of worry, Xu Ye added, easily: “Auntie — I don’t do things I’m not confident about.”

She gave a small nod.

As the two of them were leaving, she called after him.

“Xiao Xu — could you have her back by six? We’re having a family dinner tonight. It’ll be one of the last evenings before she goes to Shanghai.”

“No problem.”

(End of Chapter)