A similar season, six years ago.

The sky was clearer and more transparent than now; the weather hotter. The sunset dyed the whole world pink. The air hung thick with the maddening smell of sweat.

From his house to Mai Mang's was only a few hundred meters—the streets grew narrower the farther he walked.

Foul-smelling sewage at the edge of the sidewalk never seemed to dry. Women forever sat under eaves, sunflower seeds and spit flying together. Tofu skewers that might have been fried in gutter oil waved in car exhaust and blowing dust—appetite-killing.

On top of that, the little girl beside him had been chattering the whole way over a few Qiaoduo Three Kingdoms trading cards. Irritated beyond bearing, Jingyuan—if not for his mother's orders to see her home safely—might well have abandoned her by the roadside.

This kind of big trouble—not even human traffickers would take if you paid them.

—That was what he'd thought then.

So when she muttered and pulled out her keys, Jingyuan felt relief. When she cried "Huh?" he couldn't hide the annoyance in his voice: "What now?"

"The door's unlocked." The girl held up keys with nowhere to use them, staring in confusion at the door left slightly ajar, and looked up at gege.

Jingyuan frowned slightly, pushed her aside, put one hand on the doorknob, eased the door open a crack, looked inside for only two or three seconds, and immediately shut it again.

"What is it?" Mai Mang grabbed Jingyuan's arm and leaned in curiously. "Did Mom get home first?"

Jingyuan swallowed. He called "Maimai"—and found his voice very hoarse.

"Hm?" Confused, confused.

Glancing toward the alley entrance farther off, he took a deep breath and calmed down. His throat was no longer dry. He tried to make what came next sound casual: "Right now, if you do one thing for me, I'll give you the complete set of Three Kingdoms cards I've already collected."

"Really?" Light flashed in Mai Mang's eyes.

"Mm. Go to the alley entrance and count from one to a thousand. Close your eyes, cover your ears, don't stop, count loud enough that I can hear you standing inside the house."

"Just close my eyes, cover my ears, and count out loud without stopping?"

"Mm. When you're done, they're all yours. The whole set."

She didn't quite believe it yet.

Some images I don't want you to see.

Some sounds I don't want you to hear.

My vision suddenly stretched toward the far distance—the you of childhood, standing in bright sunset, running toward the alley entrance, eyes closed, ears covered, counting loudly—forever frozen at the center of my world.

One second ago I'd still thought you were more annoying than a snail. One second later I understood: to see your innocent, radiant smile again, in that instant, I had to make the promise—when you're done, I'll give you everything.

…998. 999. 1000.