"I had no choice but to compromise. To remember them, and to remind myself, I went to a tattoo shop by the street and got these five earrings."
Jiang Shiyu forced a nonchalant smile, but the corners of his eyes flushed red. He poured himself glass after glass, as if trying to drown himself.
Zeng Keqin watched him, recalling Zhang Kang's words. Two people, two versions—like two sides of the same coin. Neither lied, but each clung to their own truth, wrapping it in layers of self-righteous conviction.
Suddenly, she spoke. "Do you want to hear my thoughts?"
He looked up.
"Given that you were a minor at the time, even if you had turned yourself in, you'd most likely have been found not guilty. So your parents pulling strings doesn't hold water. If they did anything, it was probably to help Zhang Kang—without someone who knows the law, such a case wouldn't have ended with just a three-year sentence."
Jiang Shiyu frowned slightly.
"As for the library donation, maybe it wasn't just for you, but to suppress the public opinion for all of you. Of course, this is just my guess."
"Impossible. They wouldn't do that!"
"Did you ever ask them?"
A flash of uncertainty crossed Jiang Shiyu's eyes.
His parents' stubbornness and rigidity had long been ingrained in their bones. It had been far too long since they had truly communicated.
Seeing his expression, Zeng Keqin knew it was pointless to say more. She dropped the subject.
"What about Zhang Kang? What are you going to do about him?"
Jiang Shiyu snapped back to the present.
"I don't know. He doesn't want to see me. If I go to him, it'll only make him feel worse."
"Since he won't see you, maybe you can try reaching out through his family?"
A spark lit in his eyes. "He has a grandmother. Maybe she can help."
Zeng Keqin rarely smiled. She stood up. "Then it's up to you from here. I'm heading back."
Jiang Shiyu quickly stood. "I'll walk you."
"No need. The dorm isn't far."
She turned and left.
Jiang Shiyu paid and caught up. "I'm going back to the dorm too. It's on the way."
On the late-night street, they walked side by side. Their shadows under the streetlights stretched one tall, one short, with a person's width between them.
Neither spoke—only footsteps echoed along the road.
Jiang Shiyu glanced sideways. It was the third time they had walked together.
Moonlight fell on her profile, soft and beautiful, as if wrapped in a hazy glow. How had he never noticed her long lashes, her fair and delicate skin...
Feeling his gaze, she turned her head.
He quickly looked away, staring at the path ahead. "Why did you speak up for me in front of Zhang Kang?"
Zeng Keqin answered matter-of-factly. "I just applied what I've learned in law to the right situation."
"You could have kept quiet."
She looked at him with mild confusion. "Are you saying I should have sided with Zhang Kang and joined him in cursing you?"
"That's not what I meant." Jiang Shiyu rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I mean, you didn't have to get involved. This is between me and Zhang Kang. What if he resents you too?"
"Everything I said was true. What's there to resent?"
Jiang Shiyu's pace slowed. His voice softened. "You're the first person who's ever spoken up for me."
Zeng Keqin was taken aback. She looked back at him, now lagging behind. The streetlight illuminated his chiseled face, his expression no longer brash but softened. His dark eyes were fixed on her.
Her heart began to race.
She had only instinctively refuted his flawed reasoning—she never expected him to see it as her defending him.
Flustered, she turned away, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and spoke with exaggerated seriousness. "I have a question for you."
"What?"
"The difference between excessive self-defense and intentional injury is so simple. How did you two misunderstand it for years without ever consulting a lawyer?"
Jiang Shiyu froze for a moment, then turned his face away, his shoulders shaking as a low laugh carried on the wind for a long time.
They arrived at the girls' dormitory building without realizing it.
Zeng Keqin stopped and looked up. The whole building was pitch-black—even the corridor lights were off.
She pulled out her phone. 11:20 PM.
Damn. She had forgotten today wasn't a weekend. The doors locked at eleven.
She called the dorm supervisor—no answer. Called her roommates—still no answer.
They were probably exhausted from the KTV and had gone straight to sleep.
"Looks like it's closed."
Jiang Shiyu's voice came from behind.