Breakfast probe
The morning self-study session at No. 1 Middle School starts at seven o'clock, but Xu Ying is used to arriving at school half an hour early.
The early spring morning still carried a lingering chill. She wrapped her school uniform jacket tighter, her fingers slightly curled inside the sleeves, her breath condensing and dissipating in the cold air. The security guard at the school gate recognized her and nodded with a smile: "Here you are again, so early?"
Xu Ying smiled, pursed her lips, and didn't say anything, but quickened her pace to cross the empty playground.
The teaching building was quiet, with only the occasional footsteps of students on duty. Class 7 of Grade 11 was at the end of the corridor. When she pushed open the back door, the hinges made a slight creaking sound, which was particularly clear in the quiet corridor.
There was no one in the classroom.
Xu Ying breathed a sigh of relief and walked to the seat by the window—the desk she shared with Zong Heng.
Sunlight streamed obliquely through the east-facing window, falling on the table and reflecting tiny specks of dust. She put down her schoolbag, took out a pack of wet wipes from her pocket, pulled one out, and carefully wiped her half of the table.
She paused when she reached the middle of the brush.
On Zong Heng's half of the table, there was still graffiti left from yesterday—a hastily drawn cartoon tiger, baring its teeth, with the words "Fuck Off" written next to it, as arrogant as he himself.
Xu Ying stared at it for two seconds, and then, as if possessed, gently wiped the tiger's head with a wet wipe.
"What are you wiping? Do you think my drawing is ugly?"
A deep voice suddenly sounded behind her, startling Xu Ying so much that her hand trembled and the wet wipe fell to the ground.
She turned around abruptly, her lower back slamming against the edge of the table, and she hissed in pain.
Zong Heng, carrying his schoolbag in one hand, leaned against the doorframe, looking at her with a half-smile. The morning light shone from behind him, outlining his tall figure; his school uniform jacket was open, revealing a black T-shirt underneath.
"You... why are you here so early?" Xu Ying subconsciously clenched the wet wipe package in her hand.
Zong Heng walked in and casually tossed his schoolbag onto the table: "Can't sleep."
He pulled out a chair and sat down, stretching out his long legs until his knees almost touched Xu Ying's legs. She immediately moved closer to the window.
Zong Heng glanced at her, said nothing, took a carton of milk out of his pocket, and slammed it down in front of her.
Xu Ying was stunned.
The milk carton still carried the warmth of the convenience store's heated display case, which was especially noticeable under her icy fingertips.
"For me?" she asked softly.
Zong Heng had already opened his box, tilted his head back and took a big gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing: "I bought too much."
Xu Ying stared at the strawberry pattern on the milk carton—it was the flavor she had casually mentioned liking at the convenience store last week.
There were still only the two of them in the classroom.
Xu Ying sipped her milk, glancing out of the corner of her eye as Zong Heng took two rice balls out of a plastic bag. He tore one open, took a big bite, and his cheeks puffed out, looking like a fierce wolf cub.
"What are you looking at?" He suddenly turned his head.
Xu Ying quickly lowered her head, pretending to study the words in her English book.
"Tsk." Zong Heng pushed another rice ball in front of her. "You bought too many of these too."
The aroma of tuna mayonnaise wafted over, and Xu Ying's stomach rumbled loudly.
Zong Heng raised an eyebrow: "Not eating?"
"Eat..." She reached out to take it, but her fingertips accidentally touched the back of his hand, and she pulled back as if she had been electrocuted.
Zong Heng stared at her reddened ear tips and suddenly smiled: "Xu Ying."
"ah?"
Are you afraid of me?
Xu Ying tightened her grip on the rice ball: "...No."
"Then why are you hiding?" He moved closer, his body carrying the cool morning air and a faint scent of mint. "I'm not going to eat you."
Xu Ying held her breath and leaned back, her back almost touching the window.
Zong Heng stared at her for two seconds, then suddenly reached out—
She instinctively closed her eyes.
"You got milk in your hair." His fingers gently brushed across the ends of her hair, sending a faint electric current through him.
Xu Ying opened her eyes and saw Zong Heng holding a strand of hair between his fingers, with a little white milk stain on it. His expression was indifferent, but his focused gaze made her heart race.
"Th-thank you..."
Zong Heng didn't say anything, he just flicked the hair away and picked up the rice ball to continue eating.
Before the morning reading bell rang, students arrived at school one after another.
Xu Ying held her English book up to hide her face, taking small bites of her rice ball. The umami of the tuna and the sweetness of the mayonnaise spread in her mouth, and she couldn't help but squint her eyes.
"It's so delicious?"
Zong Heng's voice came from beside her, and Xu Ying realized that she had unconsciously smiled. She quickly composed herself and nodded, "Mm..."
Zong Heng suddenly reached out and wiped her lips with his thumb: "You got some."
Xu Ying froze.
His fingertips were rough, probably calluses from playing basketball, and when they brushed against my skin, they sent a slight shiver down my spine. That small patch of skin felt like it had been burned, and the heat spread all the way to my cheek.
"Brother Zong! That game yesterday—"
A boy rushed into the classroom and slammed on the brakes when he saw what was happening.
Xu Ying hurriedly lowered her head, her ears turning bright red.
Zong Heng withdrew his hand and leaned back lazily: "What?"
"N-nothing!" The boy chuckled sheepishly and stepped back. "You guys continue, continue..."
The classroom gradually became noisy, but Xu Ying felt that all the sounds were separated by a membrane, and only her own heartbeat was deafening.
She glanced at Zong Heng and saw him looking out the window, sunlight falling on his profile and outlining his sharp features.
I don't know if it's just my imagination, but the tips of his ears seem a little red.
At 6:40 a.m. the next morning, when Xu Ying opened the classroom door, she was surprised to find Zong Heng already sitting in his seat.
He was looking down at his phone, his school uniform jacket casually draped over the back of the chair, and wisps of hair slightly obscuring his eyes, making him appear exceptionally quiet in the morning light. Hearing the door open, he glanced up, then casually looked away.
Xu Ying pursed her lips and tiptoed to her seat. Just as she put down her backpack, a warm plastic bag was pushed in front of her.
"Eat." Zong Heng didn't even look up, his fingers still swiping across the screen.
Xu Ying looked down—it was a carton of fresh milk and a pork floss rice ball. She froze, her fingers unconsciously tightening around the edge of the plastic bag.
"Did you buy too much again?" she asked softly.
Zong Heng paused for a moment, then hummed in response, his tone as calm as if he were discussing the weather.
Xu Ying glanced at him discreetly and noticed that the tips of his ears seemed a little red. She didn't ask any further questions, unwrapped the rice ball, and took a small bite. The rice ball was still warm, and the salty aroma of the pork floss mixed with the sweetness of the glutinous rice filled her mouth.
Halfway through her meal, she suddenly heard a very soft "tsk" beside her. Zong Heng had put away his phone at some point and was now frowning as he stared at the rice ball in her hand.
"What's wrong?" Xu Ying subconsciously slowed down her chewing.
“You.” He reached out, his thumb suddenly brushing against the corner of her mouth, “You’ve eaten it all over the place.”
Xu Ying froze. His fingertips were warm, touching her briefly before pulling away, yet they made her cheeks burn instantly. Zong Heng, however, had already withdrawn his hand, casually flipping through his textbook, as if the intimate gesture from just moments ago had been nothing more than her imagination.
Students gradually entered the classroom. Xu Ying lowered her head and ate the remaining rice ball clean, not daring to leave a single grain of rice.
On the morning of the third day, Xu Ying deliberately arrived at school ten minutes early.
When she pushed open the door, the classroom was indeed empty. She breathed a sigh of relief, but froze when she reached her seat—on her desk was a cup of soy milk and a bag of jianbing (Chinese crepes), with a sticky note underneath:
"Don't eat it if it gets cold. —Z"
The handwriting was so messy it was almost illegible, but Xu Ying recognized it at a glance. She carefully picked up the soy milk; the temperature was still scalding hot as it passed through the paper cup to her palm.
She was lost in thought when she suddenly heard footsteps behind her. Zong Heng walked in carrying his schoolbag, and seeing that she had already arrived, he raised an eyebrow: "So early today?"
Xu Ying hurriedly stuffed the sticky note into her textbook: "...I got up early."
Zong Heng's gaze lingered on the breakfast in her hand for a second, and the corners of his mouth lifted almost imperceptibly. He sat down next to her, took a box of mints from his bag, poured out two, and popped them into his mouth.
"Aren't you going to eat?" He glanced at the untouched jianbing guozi.
Xu Ying snapped out of her daze and quickly unwrapped the package. The jianbing guozi was still crispy, and the thin, crispy bits inside made a "crunch" sound when bitten into. She was so focused on eating that she didn't notice Zong Heng watching her out of the corner of his eye until a little sauce got on the corner of her mouth again.
“Xu Ying,” he suddenly said.
"Huh?" She looked up blankly.
Zong Heng stared at her for two seconds, then simply pulled out a tissue and tossed it to her: "Wipe your mouth."
Xu Ying took the tissue, her heart inexplicably racing. She had a feeling that this wasn't what he had intended to say earlier.
Breakfast on the fourth day consisted of a ham sandwich and strawberry yogurt.
Xu Ying was used to finding food on the table every morning, but today the sandwich was cut into neat triangles and the yogurt straw was already inserted—this was clearly not the standard setup for a convenience store.
She hesitated for a moment, then turned to look at Zong Heng: "This... did you make it yourself?"
Zong Heng was copying homework when he heard this, his pen paused, and without looking up, he said, "Bought."
"But the sandwiches at convenience stores are all square..."
"Xu Ying." He suddenly put down his pen, turned to look directly at her, and said, "Do you have some misunderstanding about me?"
Xu Ying was startled by his sudden approach and leaned back: "What?"
"Do I look like someone who can cook?" he scoffed, flicking her forehead. "Eat yours."
Xu Ying covered her forehead, but noticed a trace of mayonnaise on the cuff of his school uniform.
She didn't ask any more questions, and took a bite of the sandwich. The bread was soft, the ham was savory, and the lettuce was crisp—it tasted better than any convenience store sandwich she had ever eaten.
On the morning of the fifth day, Xu Ying had just walked downstairs to the teaching building when she saw Zong Heng coming out of the convenience store.
He was carrying a familiar plastic bag, looking down at his phone, his wisps of hair fluttering slightly in the morning breeze. Xu Ying subconsciously slowed her pace, wanting to wait for him to go first, but then she saw him suddenly look up, his gaze sweeping directly in her direction.
Their eyes met, and both of them were stunned for a moment.
Zong Heng was the first to react and strode towards her. Xu Ying stood there, her heart pounding like a drum.
"Here you go." He shoved the plastic bag into her hand, his tone curt. "Just in time to run into you, so it won't get cold on the table."
Xu Ying looked down—it was a teriyaki chicken rice ball, her favorite kind.
"Thank you," she said softly, her fingertips accidentally brushing against the back of his hand, feeling its warmth.
Zong Heng hummed in agreement and turned to walk towards the teaching building. Xu Ying followed behind him and noticed that his ears were a little red.
"Zong Heng." She suddenly mustered up her courage and called out to him.
"What?" He turned around, his brows furrowed slightly.
Xu Ying took a deep breath: "Tomorrow... don't bring me breakfast tomorrow."
Zong Heng's expression instantly turned cold: "You think it tastes bad?"
"No!" she quickly shook her head. "I mean, I can buy it myself..."
"Whatever," he interrupted her, and walked away without looking back.
Xu Ying stood there, still holding the warm rice ball in her hands, and suddenly felt empty inside.
On the morning of the sixth day, Xu Ying's desk was completely empty.
She stared at the blank space for a long time, a vague sense of loss rising in her heart. Before the morning reading began, she couldn't help but steal a glance at Zong Heng—he was sleeping on the table, his back view exuding a clear sense of detachment.
During recess, Xu Ying went to the school store to buy bread. When she returned, she found an insulated bag in her drawer. Puzzled, she opened it and found a steaming bowl of congee with preserved egg and lean pork, along with a new note:
"Don't eat it if it gets cold. —Z"
The handwriting was even more illegible than yesterday, as if the writer was very impatient. Xu Ying, holding the porridge, suddenly laughed.
She turned to look at Zong Heng and found that he had woken up at some point and was looking at her with his chin propped up, his eyes showing a mixture of displeasure and helplessness.
"What are you laughing at?" he asked.
Xu Ying shook her head and whispered, "Thank you."
Zong Heng snorted and turned to look out the window. Sunlight streamed through the glass, casting a soft outline on his profile. Xu Ying suddenly realized that he was actually quite cute when he was angry.
On the morning of the seventh day, Xu Ying got up very early.
She stood at the convenience store entrance, hesitated for a long time, and finally bought two breakfasts—a tuna rice ball and a teriyaki chicken rice ball.
When she pushed open the classroom door, Zong Heng was already there. He looked up at her, his gaze falling on the bag in her hand, and raised an eyebrow slightly.
Xu Ying took a deep breath, walked up to him, and placed the teriyaki chicken rice ball on his table.
"Today... I bought too much." Her voice was so soft it was almost inaudible.
Zong Heng stared at the rice ball for a long time, then suddenly smiled. He reached out and took it, his fingertips gently brushing against her palm.
"Okay," he said. "We'll continue tomorrow."
Xu Ying nodded, her face flushed, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it was going to burst out of her chest.
Outside the window, the gentle sunlight of early spring streamed in, bathing the two of them in a golden glow.
When Xu Ying returned from the restroom, the back door of the classroom was half-open, and she could hear deliberately hushed conversations coming from inside.
"Really? Zong Heng has been bringing her breakfast for a week straight?"
“I saw it with my own eyes! This morning he was the first to arrive at the classroom and put his things on her desk.”
Xu Ying stopped abruptly, her fingers unconsciously clenching the cuffs of her school uniform. She recognized the voice—it was Zhou Ting, who sat in the front row, the class's "little newsteller." Whatever news reached her ears, the whole class would know within half a day.
"Tch, maybe she begged for it herself?" another girl scoffed. "The transfer student looks so quiet and reserved, who knows what she's really up to..."
The rest of her sentence was drowned out by a rustling laugh. Xu Ying felt a chill run down her spine, and her throat tightened. She should have just pushed the door open and gone in, but her legs felt like lead, and she couldn't move.
"Don't talk nonsense." A slightly gentler voice interjected; it was Lin Xiaoyu, the class monitor. "Xu Ying's grades are so good, why would she need to spend money on her?"
"What's the use of good grades?" Zhou Ting's voice suddenly became sharp. "Weren't all of Zong Heng's ex-girlfriends the prettiest girls in their class and grade? Someone like her—"
With a creak, Xu Ying finally pushed open the door.
The girls in the back row of the classroom turned around in unison, as if a pause button had been pressed. Zhou Ting's lips still held a mocking smile, and the sunflower seeds in her hand froze in mid-air.
Xu Ying walked quickly to her seat with her head down, her eardrums ringing. She could feel countless gazes glued to her back, like honey-smeared spider silk, impossible to shake off and suffocating.
"Oh, a transfer student."
Just as she sat down, the boy diagonally in front of her suddenly turned around and put his elbow on her open workbook. Xu Ying remembered that his name was Zhang Hao, and he was known in the class for his tendency to cause trouble.
"Shall we share some tips?" Zhang Hao winked. "How did you win over Heng-ge? Teach the other girls in our class too!"
A burst of laughter immediately erupted from the crowd.
Xu Ying's fingertips dug into her palm, but her voice was surprisingly calm: "Excuse me, I need to do my homework."
"What are you pretending to be so high and mighty for?" Zhang Hao persisted. "I saw you two together after school yesterday—"
"Bang!"
The back door was kicked open, and Zong Heng strode in, carrying a basketball. Sweat still dripped from his black hair, and his school uniform sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing his well-defined forearms.
The classroom fell silent instantly.
Zhang Hao pulled his hand back as if he'd been burned, and chuckled awkwardly, "Heng-ge's back from playing ball..."
Zong Heng didn't even glance at him, walking straight to Xu Ying's desk and slamming a bottle of iced lemon tea down on it. Water droplets rolled down the bottle, leaving a small stain on the exam paper.
"It's so hot." He casually grabbed a tissue to wipe his sweat, glancing around at his surroundings. "What are you looking at?"
The crowd immediately scattered like birds and beasts.
Xu Ying stared at the bottle of lemon tea, her throat tightening. It was a drink she'd casually mentioned as her favorite after gym class last week…
"Thank you," she whispered, but dared not look up.
Zong Heng stared at her reddened ear tips for two seconds, then suddenly bent down and leaned closer: "Is someone causing you trouble?"
The scent of mint mixed with sunshine wafted towards her, and Xu Ying hurriedly shook her head: "No!"
He squinted, his gaze sweeping over her entire body like an X-ray, finally settling on her clenched, white knuckles.
The first period in the afternoon was a self-study period. The homeroom teacher called an impromptu meeting, and the classroom became as noisy as a market.
Xu Ying forced herself to focus on the math problem, but the conversation drifting from the back row still reached her ears.
"I heard she didn't have a good reputation at her previous school..."
"Really? She looks so well-behaved?"
"You can know a person's face but not their heart. Haven't you noticed that she never goes to the bathroom with other girls? She's definitely hiding something..."
The ballpoint pen drew a long blue line on the draft paper. Xu Ying bit her lower lip, her stomach feeling like it was filled with ice. Back in her old school, she had been ostracized by the entire class because of a rumor that she had "seduce the class monitor"...
"Smack!"
A loud crash suddenly came from the back of the classroom. Everyone jumped in fright as Zong Heng kicked over a trash can.
He slowly walked over to Zhou Ting's group and tapped her desk with his fingertips: "You, come out."
Zhou Ting's face turned deathly pale: "W-what are you doing?"
Zong Heng smiled, but his eyes were icy: "Weren't you quite the talker? Say it to my face."
The entire classroom was completely silent.
Xu Ying suddenly stood up, the chair scraping loudly on the floor. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
Zong Heng glanced at her, then suddenly changed his mind and sat back down in his original seat: "Forget it, this is boring."
Before he lay down, he turned back and gave Zhou Ting a smirk: "By the way, should I tell the teacher about your boyfriend spending the whole night at the internet cafe last Friday?"
Zhou Ting's face turned ashen instantly.
She quietly reached out to straighten the pencil case that was about to fall off his elbow, but he suddenly grabbed her wrist.
Zong Heng opened his eyes, his gaze showing no sign of sleepiness.
Xu Ying tried to pull her hand away, but he gripped it even tighter. "Listen carefully."
“They’re wrong,” he said in a low voice. “I’ve never brought breakfast for anyone.”
Xu Ying's heart skipped a beat.
As soon as the bell rang, Xu Ying grabbed her schoolbag and rushed out of the classroom.
She walked quickly, almost jogging, through the noisy corridor, up the stairs, and only stopped at the entrance to the rooftop. Her chest rose and fell slightly, and the warmth of Zong Heng's grip on her fingertips still lingered.
"They're wrong."
"I have never brought breakfast for anyone."
Those words were like a red-hot coal, burning her ears.
Xu Ying took a deep breath and pushed open the rusty iron gate. The wind was strong on the rooftop, and the chill of early spring hit her face. She instinctively wrapped her school uniform jacket tighter and walked to the railing. From here, she could overlook the entire playground, where groups of students were walking towards the school gate, their shadows long in the setting sun.
She took out the mint that Zong Heng had given her; the wrapper rustled in the wind.
"What does this mean..." she muttered softly, her fingertips unconsciously tracing the edge of the candy wrapper.
Suddenly, the sound of an iron gate being pushed open came from behind.
"Avoiding me?"
The deep voice made Xu Ying stiffen. She didn't turn around, but she could feel the footsteps getting closer and closer until a familiar scent of mint mixed with tobacco enveloped her.
Zong Heng stood beside her, his elbow resting on the railing, his school uniform sleeve brushing against her arm. Xu Ying moved half a step to the side as if she had been electrocuted.
"Why are you running?" he scoffed, then suddenly grabbed her backpack strap. "The rooftop is so big, isn't it enough for you to stand on?"
Xu Ying was forced to turn around, finally meeting his eyes. The light of the setting sun fell on his brow bone, outlining a sharp profile. He looked unhappy, his brows slightly furrowed, his other hand still in his pocket, the knuckles faintly showing the curve of his clenched fist.
"I didn't hide," she argued weakly, staring down at the tips of her shoes. "I just wanted some fresh air."
Zong Heng didn't speak, but stared at her for a few seconds before suddenly releasing her backpack and taking out a cigarette case from his pocket. Xu Ying frowned instinctively, and he paused, then put the cigarette case back in.
"Fine, get some fresh air." He said sarcastically, "Then why didn't you call me?"
Xu Ying gripped the railing tightly: "You don't like coming to the rooftop anyway."
How do you know I don't like it?
“Because you said last time—” she suddenly stopped.
Zong Heng raised an eyebrow: "What...?"
"It's nothing!" Xu Ying interrupted hastily, her cheeks burning. She couldn't very well say that she remembered every casual remark he made—that last month when he was smoking on the rooftop, he had indeed complained that "the wind was strong and it was giving me a headache."
Silence spread between them. The sound of a basketball bouncing on the ground came from afar, thumping like hammer blows to Xu Ying's heart.
Zong Heng suddenly sighed.
"Xu Ying." He turned to face her, leaning against the railing, his voice lowered, "Listen carefully."
The wind ruffled his bangs, revealing his full features. Xu Ying noticed for the first time that when he was serious, his eyes were a deep black, like a quiet lake at night.
"I bought breakfast especially for you."
The blunt words were like a stone, "plop" into her heart.
“I remember your favorite flavors because I care.” He spoke quickly, as if afraid of being interrupted. “The tuna rice ball was something you mentioned during PE class on March 7th, the teriyaki chicken cutlet was something your deskmate asked about during lunch break last Tuesday, and the milk had to be warm because you have a sensitive stomach—”
Xu Ying's eyes widened. She had absolutely no recollection of having said those details.
“Those rumors…” Zong Heng sneered, slamming his fist on the railing. “If anyone keeps talking nonsense, I’ll deal with them myself.”
The metallic clanging startled a flock of sparrows nearby. Xu Ying stared at his profile, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it would burst from her chest.
Zong Heng fell silent after speaking, his jawline taut, as if waiting for her reaction.
Xu Ying opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Her eyes suddenly burned, and she hurriedly lowered her head, but a tear hit the railing first, splashing out a small puddle.
"Damn it." Zong Heng's voice changed as he grabbed her shoulder and pulled her around. "Why are you crying?"
"I didn't cry..." She sniffed, but the tears fell even harder. "It's just that the wind was too strong..."
Zong Heng frantically rummaged through his pockets, pulled out a crumpled pack of tissues, then, as if it weren't right, stuffed it back in. Finally, he simply wiped her eyes with his thumb: "Don't cry, I... I was wrong, okay?"
His fingertips had thin calluses, which made his skin sting slightly from rubbing against them. Xu Ying looked at him through her blurry, tear-filled eyes—the once arrogant school bully now had his brows furrowed, his expression more troubled than when solving a challenging math problem.
This scene inexplicably made her burst into laughter through her tears.
“Crying and laughing…” Zong Heng muttered, but he clearly breathed a sigh of relief. He took out the last mint from his pocket, unwrapped it, and held it to her lips. “Eat it, it’s sweet.”
Xu Ying subconsciously put the candy in her mouth, and her tongue accidentally brushed against his fingertip. The two of them froze at the same time.
Zong Heng abruptly withdrew his hand, his ears turning red visibly. He turned and leaned back against the railing, trying to cover his embarrassment, his voice muffled: "What do you want to eat tomorrow? Order in advance."
Xu Ying had a candy in her mouth, the sweetness spreading through her mouth. She mustered her courage and gently tugged at his sleeve: "...Tuna rice ball again."
Zong Heng turned to look at her, then suddenly reached out and ruffled her bangs: "Okay."
They stood side by side for a while, watching the sunset slowly sink behind the teaching building.
"Let's go." Zong Heng picked up her schoolbag. "I'll take you home."
Xu Ying followed him downstairs step by step. When they reached the corner on the second floor, Zong Heng suddenly stopped, and she almost bumped into his back.
“Um,” he said without turning around, his voice a little awkward, “just tell me what you want for breakfast from now on… don’t make me guess.”
Xu Ying looked at his ear tips, which were tinged red by the setting sun, and secretly curved the corners of her mouth: "Mmm."
The motion-activated lights in the stairwell lit up one floor at a time in sync with their footsteps. When they reached the first floor, Zong Heng suddenly grabbed her wrist.
“And another thing,” he looked down at her, his eyes shining brightly, “I’ve never been in a relationship.”
Xu Ying's heart skipped a beat.
“So,” he rubbed his thumb against her wrist, “if you dare to run…”
"I won't run," she whispered.
Zong Heng paused for a moment, then suddenly laughed. He released his hand and put it back in his pocket: "Remember what you said."
As dusk settled, their shadows merged on the ground, making it impossible to tell whose was longer.
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