"Driver, do you believe in love?"

Fang Qing was like a stuck tape recorder.

"I do."

The driver answered crisply and decisively. "Me and my wife, that’s love. We’ve been married over twenty years. Except for the first three months, there hasn’t been a time we weren’t arguing. We’ve been to the civil affairs bureau more times than I can count, but we just can’t get divorced. You tell me, if that’s not love, what is it?"

"Driver, I paid money. Four hundred! You answer me, not the other way around."

Jiang Chen held back a laugh as he watched his childhood friend whose logic was still surprisingly clear. Drunk women were actually kind of cute.

The cabbie was a businessman, and businessmen know how to honor a deal. While driving he said, "What is this thing called love, huh? I think it’s simple, not all that messy stuff. It’s just wanting to be with her, liking how it feels to be with her. Doesn’t matter if she’s ugly or pretty, bad temper or not, you just want to see her. When you’re tired and sleepy from work, you’ll think of her..."

"It’s like you youngsters going to the mall to buy clothes. You fall for it at first sight and insist on buying it, you have to take it home!"

The driver finished with a vivid, easy-to-understand metaphor.

"But what if someone else has already reserved that piece of clothing?"

For four hundred bucks, the driver was very professional. "Reserved? Then I’ll teach you a trick. Take out your lipstick and stain it. That way they can only sell it to you."

Jiang Chen hadn’t seen that coming; his eyes were opened.

There are masters hidden among the common folk.

"Driver, you must have been a player when you were young, right?"

"What do you mean ’when I was young’? I still am."

The cabbie had found his groove, bragging non-stop all the way. The two drunks in the back were very supportive, chiming in with a few words now and then to provide emotional value.

By the time they got to their destination, the driver was so happy he ignored the meter.

"No need to pay."

He’d already made four hundred bucks and had his fill of talking. A dozen yuan in fare was nothing.

"Driver."

Fang Qing suddenly called out.

"Hm?"

The cabbie turned around and saw a phone, the screen displaying a photo.

To be precise.

A document photo.

—A lawyer’s license!

"I’m a lawyer. Refund."

The driver, who thought he’d hit the jackpot tonight, froze, lips trembling. "Beauty, you can’t do me like this..."

A big company like Green Land isn’t afraid of lawyers, or even courts, but that doesn’t mean an ordinary guy has that kind of guts.

Fang Qing put her phone away. She didn’t throw her weight around or force him to cough up the money. "I’ve memorized your license plate. Next time I get your cab, the ride’s free."

"..."

The driver was dumbfounded.

"Clack."

Holding the bridal bouquet, Fang Qing pushed the door open and got out.

Before following, Jiang Chen patted the driver’s seat. "Driver, people are scary."

"Heh heh."

At the foot of the shabby apartment building.

Fang Qing walked on tiptoe, her laugh crisp as silver bells. Who says there’s no elixir of youth in this world? A few-yuan bottle of beer is exactly that. Under the quiet moonlight, in her vintage dress, she looked like a little elf waltzing.

Jiang Chen followed at an unhurried pace, a smile creeping up his lips without him realizing. "Careful you don’t fall."

"Hey."

Fang Qing spun around, skirt flaring.

Jiang Chen stopped.

"What?"

One hand holding the bouquet, Fang Qing beckoned with the other.

Jiang Chen grew wary, feet rooted to the ground. He repeated, "What?"

A man can’t fall into the same trap twice.

The last drunk episode was still fresh in his mind.

Thankfully, Tie Jun had picked a good day for his wedding. No rain.

"Carry me."

Fang Qing said it like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"I can’t."

He refused without hesitation.

"You carried me this morning."

See?

Got a taste and now she’s hooked.

"I’m drunk."

Jiang Chen kept it short. Why had he played "human rickshaw" this morning? To keep from delaying Tie Jun’s lucky hour. The wedding was over now; no way he was falling for it again.

"No way."

Fang Qing wore the look of "I only care what I think, not what you think," and said firmly, "I’m not drunk, so how could you be drunk."

"You sure you’re not drunk?"

Jiang Chen asked politely.

"Not drunk!"

Still cradling the bouquet, Fang Qing moved like she was dancing, up on tiptoe, light steps, getting closer and closer.

"Carry me, okay? I can’t climb anymore～"

A woman who acts spoiled has it easiest.

Especially with a man like Boss Jiang, the classic soft-but-not-hard type.

Bear in mind, he’d dared to go head-to-head with Blood Guanyin, unyielding and fearless.

Even drunk, Fang Qing clearly wasn’t completely gone; she knew exactly how to get this guy under her thumb.

When they were kids, she’d used the same trick—stick and carrot, hard and soft—never once failed.

The familiar feeling surged up and stuck to him like glue, sealing Jiang Chen’s lips. That quirky girl-next-door seemed to leap out of a time machine and land right in front of him, alive and kicking.

Who says childhood sweethearts always lose to some random "fated" newcomer?

"You’re a grown woman."

His lips moved, and it finally turned into a helpless smile.

"Twenty-six. So what?"

Fang Qing said it with perfect confidence, staring straight at him. The curve of her lashes was clear and thick, plucking at the strings of his heart.

"Are you gonna carry me or not."

"What if I don’t?"

"If you don’t, I’ll tell your parents you molested me."

Whoosh—

Time seemed to flow backwards around them.

This moment mirrored that moment back then.

And she claimed she wasn’t drunk.

His parents were gone, but the "molesting" part had actually become truth, no longer groundless mud she was slinging at him.

"Didn’t you molest me?"

Jiang Chen shot back.

Fang Qing said nothing, lifting her foot to stomp on him.

Jiang Chen dodged.

Fang Qing stumbled, losing her balance, and a strong arm caught her.

"Carry me."

Fang Qing repeated, a stubborn little girl who clearly wasn’t giving up until she got her way.

Back when she was "young," this was exactly how she was.

"I must’ve used up eight lifetimes of luck in the worst way."

He’d circled around and around, thinking he’d escaped, only to step out of the maze and realize he’d returned to the starting point.

That was exactly how he felt right now.

But what could he do?

All he could manage was a useless, powerless sigh before bowing to reality. After steadying her, he crouched down.

Fang Qing’s face lit up instantly. "Lower."

"If you fall, I’m not responsible."

The grown-up him carried the grown-up her toward the pitch-black stairwell.

"It’s so dark. Be careful. Why are you walking so fast?"

Cheek to cheek, he could clearly smell the scent of her hair, mixed with the flowers.

Jiang Chen slowed his pace.

"Don’t move around."

"Move your hands a little."

"I can’t breathe."

"Tell me, if Li Shuru finds out, will she misunderstand?"

Jiang Chen’s steps stayed steady. He had a man’s sense of responsibility, in charge of both their safety.

"Find out what?"

"The bouquet."

Fang Qing waved the flowers in front of him again.

"If you don’t tell her, how could she possibly know."

He answered calmly, and it was downright brilliant.

"Makes sense."

Fang Qing rested her chin on his shoulder, then suddenly blew a puff of warm air at his ear.

"What are you doing?!"

Jiang Chen’s reaction was a bit intense.

They weren’t kids anymore.

Back then, Fang Qing was like a little flat-chested princess; carrying her was basically the same as carrying Tie Jun and the others.

Now, it was different.

He’d personally "measured" in Kyoto, after all.

"Why are you snapping at me!"

With only half a flight of stairs left before home, the dripped paint on the steps had already dried. Suddenly, Fang Qing bit down on his neck.

And she really bit hard.

His eyes bulged; he sucked in a sharp breath, almost shouting.

She let go, laughing in satisfaction. "Relax, it didn’t break the skin."

"Are you crazy?"

"Driver said so. Lipstick marks, right?"

"..."

Having taken an unprovoked bite, Jiang Chen barked, "Get down!"

"No."

Fang Qing hugged his neck again. "If you don’t move, I’ll bite you again."

He was out of moves and out of options. He hitched her legs up to secure her and had no choice but to swallow his pride and keep climbing.

Step by step, they moved upward toward the front door.

Underfoot, the dried paint was like a red carpet.