Green plums cannot become lovers.

Xiao Juzhi looked at the umbrella, then at the ball. She glanced at him.

"And what about you?"

"Let's fight together." Yue Yi·Qi (two) Ling Si Jiu Qi Si

Xiaoju Zhihua's face flushed instantly. She lowered her head, staring at the transparent plastic umbrella, her fingers gripping the hem of her skirt for a long while before she finally nodded gently.

An and Asuka opened their umbrellas and stepped into the rain. Komari followed beside him, initially quite a distance apart, the edge of the umbrella barely covering her head. Rain dripped from the edge of the umbrella, falling onto her shoulders.

"Come a little closer," An and Asuka said.

Komari hesitated for a moment, then took half a step closer to him. An and Asuka tilted the umbrella slightly towards her.

The two walked into the rain.

The rain was heavy, and the raindrops pattered against the umbrella, making a dense crackling sound, like someone was scattering handfuls of beans over your head.

A gust of wind blew from the side, slanting the raindrops and wetting An and Asuka's trousers and sleeves. Komari Chika walked in the center of the umbrella, head down, watching her toes wad through the puddles. Water splashed up, wetting her shoes, feeling cool.

The rain was so loud it made you want to shut up. The surrounding scenery was blurred into a gray haze by the rain; the distant mountains were invisible, and the nearby rice paddies turned into a blurry green patch. Occasionally, a car would drive by, the sound of its tires rolling over puddles like tearing a piece of cloth.

The two walked on like that, neither of them speaking. But the silence wasn't awkward; it was because the rain was too heavy and their voices were too close, so close that speaking felt like an intrusion.

After walking for a while, Xiaoju Zhihua suddenly spoke up.

“Anhe, classmate.”

"Ok?"

Her voice was very soft, almost drowned out by the sound of the rain, but every word she spoke was very clear.

"I thought about it all night yesterday."

An and Asuka didn't respond, waiting for her to continue.

"I still think...that's wrong."

The sound of rain suddenly grew louder, as if trying to hide her words.

An and Asuka looked ahead at the road, the outline of the guesthouse already faintly visible through the rain. He didn't stop walking, and his voice remained calm.

"Perhaps."

Komari looked up, and raindrops dripped from the edge of the umbrella onto her face. Tiny water droplets clung to her eyelashes, but her eyes remained bright.

"Then why do you still...?"

“Because there’s no right or wrong in liking someone.” An and Asuka interrupted her, saying, “In my eyes, liking someone is simply liking them. I won’t dislike them just because others think they’re wrong, nor will I like them more just because others think they’re right.”

Komari opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but found the words stuck in her throat, unable to come out. She lowered her head and fell silent again.

The rain was still falling, even heavier than before. The wind blew raindrops under the umbrella, which then pattered on the back of her hand, feeling cool.

"But I don't think Hanami and Himegami will agree to that." She finally said it.

"Whether they agree or not is their business." An and Asuka's voice remained calm, like a quiet stream in the rain. "What I do is my business."

"This is unreasonable..."

"Liking something is never reasonable."

Komari Chika didn't know what to say.

She recalled the boy's expression under the moonlight yesterday, the tone of his voice when he said, "I just want them all to be happy," and the certainty in his voice when he said, "That's what liking someone is like."

She always thought that liking someone was a simple thing—one person likes another person, the two people are together, and they live a good life. But An and Feibiao's liking was not like that. His liking was like a tree with many branches, stretching in all directions, and each branch had leaves that shone in the sunlight.

She felt that was wrong.

But she couldn't quite put her finger on what was wrong.

We've arrived at the guesthouse.

An and Asuka pushed open the back door and stepped aside to let Komari Chika go in first. She stepped onto the porch steps, onto the dry wooden planks, and looked back at him.

An and Asuka closed their umbrellas, stood at the doorway, and shook the water off the umbrellas. Then he came in and leaned the umbrellas against the doorframe.

Komari Chika then noticed that the left side of his shirt was completely soaked. From shoulder to sleeve, the entire area was covered in dark water stains, the fabric clinging to his body and outlining the contours of his shoulder blades. Her side, however, was almost dry, except for a small section of her skirt that was splashed with rainwater.

Her gaze lingered on the soaked fabric, and she froze.

"you......"

"Hmm?" An and Asuka looked down in the direction of her gaze, smiled, and said, "It's okay, it's hot anyway."

Komari Chika didn't say anything.

She remembered that the umbrella had been tilted towards her the whole time on the way.

He did it on purpose.

From the convenience store to the guesthouse, it was a full fifteen minutes along the road to Bazhong. The rain was so heavy and the wind so strong, but he didn't say a word. He just tilted the umbrella towards her the whole way.

Xiaoju Chika stood there, her lips moving as if she wanted to say thank you, to say sorry, to say why didn't you say so sooner. But those words circled in her throat, finally turning into a very soft, almost inaudible sentence.

"These clothes... will make me catch a cold..."

"It's alright." An and Asuka smiled, turned and walked into the house. "I'll go change."

His footsteps faded into the distance in the corridor. Xiaoju Zhihua stood there, watching the disappearing figure, then looked down at her almost dry clothes.

The rain was still falling outside the window, pouring down as if repeatedly washing over this summer afternoon. A curtain of rain hung from the eaves, the raindrops forming strings that fell onto the bluestone slabs, splashing up tiny droplets. The distant thunder sounded closer than before, muffled, as if something had turned over deep within the clouds.

Komari Chika stood there, motionless for a long time.

She remembered yesterday on the beach, under the moonlight, when he said, "If you like something, you should bravely face it." She remembered today on the road, in the pouring rain, when he said, "There's no right or wrong in liking someone."

She didn't know if what he said was right or wrong.

But she knew that the person truly believed it.

Volume 1: Chapter 264 The Sound of Rain

It rained all day.

Since the sudden downpour that morning, the sky seemed to have been ripped open, and it just wouldn't close.

The rain came in fits and starts; when it was heavy, it pounded on the roof with a loud patter, and when it was light, it became a fine, continuous drizzle that drifted obliquely in the wind. The world outside the window was shrouded in mist; the distant mountains were no longer visible, and the nearby trees had become a blurry green shadow.

A curtain of rain hung from the eaves, water droplets strung together, falling onto the bluestone slabs, splashing up tiny water droplets, dripping and pattering like an endless melody.

Everyone huddled in the living room, listening to the rain and doing their own thing.

The outside world was dark and noisy, but the world inside was quiet and warm. The warm yellow light shone on the tatami mats and on everyone's faces, keeping the rainy day outside in another dimension.

Manuscripts were scattered all over the table, pen caps rolled to the corner, and several reference books were stacked together with their spines facing outwards, the words on the covers gleaming softly under the lamplight.

Shintaro Tamaki leaned against the wall, holding a paperback book in his hand. He flipped through a few pages, then stopped and stared blankly at the rain outside the window, lost in thought. Koto Tsukinoki lay on the opposite table, pen tip resting on a manuscript paper, motionless for a long time. Only three lines were written on the paper, one of which was crossed out.

Shao Yanmeng spread several sheets of paper in front of him, propped his chin on his hand, stared at the paper, and muttered to himself as if he were reading something silently, but as he muttered, it turned into humming.

Wenshui Kazuhiko sat in the corner, his notebook open to a certain page, but doing nothing. He occasionally raised his gaze, glancing in the direction of Yanami Anna, before looking away again.

Hanami Anzu was lying on the table with her chin resting on the back of her hand. In front of her was a piece of paper with several circles drawn on it. Inside the circles were words like "So hard", "Can't write", and "Want to eat".

Himegami Karen sat beside her, also with a manuscript spread out in front of her, but she was progressing much faster than Anna, having already filled two pages and was turning to the third. She wrote with great concentration, occasionally pausing to think, gently tapping her forehead with the end of her pen, and then continuing to write.

Komari Chika sat a little distance from the crowd, leaning against the wall with a piece of paper on her lap. She kept her head down, the pen scratching softly on the paper, writing more intently than anyone else. But occasionally she would look up, her gaze drifting briefly towards Tamaki Shintaro before quickly returning to her own, her expression unchanged except for a slight blush at the tips of her ears.

As outsiders, An and Asuka weren't so bored.

While everyone else was engrossed in writing in the morning, he would sit aside reading his own book or replying to messages from Tokyo on his phone. In the afternoon, he would take turns looking at the two girls' work, occasionally offering a word or two of advice—not much, just the general direction, without interfering with the details, because writing is a very personal matter, and if others interfere too much, it will only ruin the original work.

In the evening, he went to the kitchen to cook.

This has been the agreed-upon division of labor for the past few days: An and Asuka cook, while the others wash the dishes and clean up. No one has raised any objections, because after eating his cooking, everyone feels that this division of labor is the best arrangement from heaven.

Tonight's dinner is Mapo Tofu, Shredded Pork with Green Peppers, Scrambled Eggs with Tomatoes, and a big bowl of seaweed and egg drop soup.

The ingredients were all bought in the morning despite the rain. Although they got wet, they were well protected. The plastic bags were wrapped in layers of waterproof bags, and when you opened them, the vegetable leaves still had water droplets on them, looking as fresh as if they had just been picked from the ground.

An and Feibiao were busy in the kitchen alone. The sound of chopping vegetables came from under the door, a steady, rhythmic thud, like playing a slow melody. The sizzling of oil followed, then a fragrant aroma wafted from the kitchen exhaust fan, suppressed by the rain, then drifted back, seeping into every corner of the living room.

"It smells so good..." The roasted lemon put down its pen, its nostrils twitched a few times, and its eyes lit up.

Anna looked up from her manuscript, took a deep breath, and let out a satisfied sigh.

"Feiniao is making Mapo Tofu, and I can smell the Sichuan peppercorns."

"Your nose is so sensitive!"

"That's right! I've eaten it countless times!"

When Hana said this, there was a hint of smugness in her tone, as if she were showing off some precious collectible. Himegami Karen chuckled beside her; she had actually eaten quite a bit herself.

When dinner was served, everyone put down their pens and papers and sat down around the table. Bowls and chopsticks were set out, and dishes were laid out: red for Mapo Tofu, green for shredded pork with green peppers, yellow for scrambled eggs with tomatoes, and seaweed and egg drop soup steaming hot, creating a white mist under the lamplight.

"I'm starting to eat."

The sounds of chopsticks moving were constant.

"Ah—Anhe's cooking is so delicious." Tsukinoki Koto covered half of her cheek, closed her eyes, and looked as if she were savoring some kind of delicacy. "I've been writing all day and my brain is about to explode. Eating this makes me feel alive again."

"It really is delicious." Shintaro Tamaki picked up a piece of shredded pork with green peppers with his chopsticks, chewed it, and nodded. "This is Chinese food, right? Anwa-kun, have you studied with a professional chef?"

He asked very seriously, not just as a polite formality.

Anhe Asuka was serving soup when she heard this and smiled.

"Maybe it's because I do a lot of work."

"Eh—" Salted Lemon drawled, "Wow, that's amazing! You can play music, you can write, and even your cooking is so delicious. Asuka, did you secretly train somewhere else?"

With her mouth full of Mapo Tofu, Yana Mikoto added indistinctly, "Not only that, Asuka was always first in her grade in junior high."

"Wow—" Salted Lemon's eyes widened even more. "That's really amazing!"

"Hehe." Himegami Karen chuckled softly, but her tone was filled with undisguised pride. "Asuka is really something."

That sense of entitlement is more persuasive than any lengthy discourse.

Komari Chika sat at the other end of the table, quietly eating her rice. She picked up a piece of tofu with her chopsticks, put it in her mouth, and chewed slowly. The spiciness of the Mapo Tofu spread across her tongue, followed by the numbing sensation of Sichuan peppercorns—numbing and spicy, yet very fragrant. As she ate, she looked up and glanced at An and Asuka.

He was talking to Shintaro Tamaki, his profile softened by the light, a faint smile playing on his lips.

He speaks slowly and deliberately, his voice not loud, but every word is clear. When someone asks him a question, he listens attentively and then answers earnestly; when someone praises him, he doesn't feign modesty to decline, nor does he accept it with smugness, but simply smiles faintly and says "thank you."

Koji Chika lowered her head and buried her face in the bowl.

She had to admit that the boy was indeed very outstanding.

His excellence isn't the kind that makes people feel distant, nor is it the kind that's aloof and unapproachable. His excellence is gentle and understated, like a cup of hot tea in winter—not too hot to hold in your hands, but warming to the core after drinking it.

He would buy groceries, cook, teach her how to choose vegetables, and tilt the umbrella towards her when it rained. He didn't say anything while doing these things, nor did he mention them afterward, as if it were simply his duty.

She remembered that morning in the rain, the transparent plastic umbrella tilted towards her, his left shoulder soaked through. He changed into dry clothes afterward and never mentioned it again. It was as if that fifteen-minute walk, that heavy rain, that soaked cloth were not worth remembering.

But she remembered it.

"Xiao Ju, why aren't you eating?" The voice of the salted lemon pulled her back.

"Ah... no, no..." Xiaoju Zhihua quickly picked up a piece of food with her chopsticks and put it in her bowl, lowering her head and pretending to eat seriously.

Roasted Salt Lemon glanced at her, but didn't ask any further questions. He turned back to continue fighting with Anna Hanami for the last piece of Mapo Tofu.

The rain was still falling, though less intense than in the afternoon, turning into a fine, continuous drizzle. The sound of the rain pattered on the roof, the windowpanes, and the leaves of the trees in the yard, creating a soft, white noise.

The warm light in the living room shone on everyone, casting their long, overlapping shadows on the tatami mats.

After finishing their meal, everyone returned to their seats.

Shintaro Tamaki brewed a pot of tea and poured a cup for everyone. The tea was steaming hot and felt warm in their hands.

Tsukinoki Koto laid out the manuscript paper again, his pen lingering on the paper for a few seconds before he began to write. This time, he wrote much faster than during the day, as if his blocked thoughts had suddenly cleared up. Roasted Lemon lay on the table, the same few unfinished pages of manuscript paper in front of her, but she was no longer in a hurry. She tilted her head, listening to the rain, occasionally writing a line or two on the paper.

Hanami Anna leaned against Himegami Karen's shoulder, her eyes half-closed, the pen in her hand twirling between her fingers. She wasn't writing, nor was she daydreaming; she was just leaning there, like a lazy cat.

Himegami Karen leaned against her as she continued writing, her handwriting neat and evenly spaced. Occasionally, she would pause to think, gently tapping her chin with the end of her pen.

Kazuhiko Nukumi remained seated in the corner, his notebook closed, fingers resting on the cover. His gaze occasionally lifted, landing on Anzu Hachimi before returning to its original position. The movement was light and swift, like a breeze rippling across water, leaving a faint ripple before vanishing.

Komari Chika sat in her corner, leaning against the wall, with a piece of manuscript paper on her lap. She wrote slowly, each word carefully considered, and after finishing one, she would stare at it for a while before moving on to the next. Her handwriting was small, each stroke deliberate, leaving slight dents on the paper.

An and Asuka sat by the window, holding a book they had borrowed from Shintaro Tamaki. They had only flipped through half of it when they put it on their lap without continuing to read.

His gaze fell on the window, where raindrops shimmered under the lamplight, like countless silver threads falling from the sky and disappearing into the puddles on the ground. The wind chimes under the eaves occasionally chimed softly, as if afraid to disturb the quiet people inside.

The sound of rain outside the window gradually subsided, the pattering on the roof turned into a dripping sound, then the dripping sound became an occasional sound, and then it was completely quiet.