June. Another summer arrives.
Watermelons and sodas celebrate the season. Green trees, light clothes—everyone welcoming the heat of midsummer.
For most people, life goes on in peace. No burdensome past. No meteoric future. Just simple days—calm, happy, ordinary.
That storm a week ago was already forgotten. Though it brought flooding to some places, the damage now seemed like it had never happened. Aside from the occasional TV report or a few students chatting about family back home, the memory faded with time.
Since that night, Ji Yu had taken a full week of sick leave from the Broadcasting Department.
Mo Yachen, meanwhile, returned to the horror art he once rejected, painting day after day for his exhibition. He did not know why Ji Yu no longer came to the Mo residence—not even for dubbing Mo Xunhan's drama.
Even his sister had changed. No more bickering, no more rowdy temper. She quietly cleaned up his discarded sketches. Whether that was a good sign, he couldn't tell.
Ji Yu opened her eyes at six in the morning. Sunlight already flooded the room. A drop of dew slipped from the orchid on the windowsill, absorbed by the soil below.
"Mm…"
Stretching lazily, bruises bloomed faintly across her body. Fading, but still proof of what she had endured.
The stylist who used to pick her clothes never came again. She had to settle for her own taste.
"Mo Yachen's exhibition… I think today's the closing day."
She checked in the mirror, ensuring the bruises on her legs had nearly disappeared. Only then did she open the large wardrobe—too luxurious for her home.
It was already June. Whatever her condition, Ji Yu still wanted to dress coolly.
Her gaze drifted to the potted plant catching the morning light. With stiff fingers, she dabbed powder on her face.
"…I'll go, just for today."
In the small living room, the kitchen bar caught her eye.
On it—under a plate—sat a steaming drink.
She hurried over. White, with tiny bubbles. Without hesitation, she took a big sip—
…Bitter. Sugarless coffee.
Her face scrunched, brows furrowed. Then she noticed: a slip of paper, pinned beneath the cup.
[Little brat, bitter? If it's bitter, go to that boy's exhibition today and settle things. Otherwise, I'll deal with him myself—and it won't be so polite.]
[PS: Don't even try to fool me. I've had plenty of coffee.]
Ji Yu smiled faintly, sipping again. The coffee was bitter—so bitter it wrinkled her face—but the note warmed her heart. She could almost see Ji Yu's brother writing it.
The drink was smooth. Coffee had to be drunk slowly—let it slide down, let the bitterness linger, so only afterward did the bean's fragrance bloom. In that moment… it became sweet.
After all—a drink is about drinking.
She slipped on sandals, stepping into the furnace of summer.
In this season, the city was most alive.
Girls dressed light and pretty, drawing stares. Boys flexed muscles, showing off under the sun. Hormones hung heavy in the air.
Students, free after classes, crowded light rail cars—headed into the city, marking their holidays with new sights.
"Whew! Cooler in here. I was about to faint out on the platform. Yudu really is no joke—heat so bad you could strip down and still burn."
"Yeah, it's brutal. And it's only June. Feels like last year's July already. Still, hot weather has its perks. Look at all the beauties on the streets, right?"
"Haha, true. But instead of just looking, I wanna open a boutique—summer only, women's clothes. That way, all the girls come straight to me."
"Idiot. It's the age of online shopping. Unless you're a luxury store, who'd bother?"
"Bah, no vision. Anyway, passing exams is hard enough. Might as well wander, look around… and admire the beauties I'll never have."
"Hahaha! Fair enough. Just look openly, or they'll think you're a creep."
"…Wait. Look over there."
"Huh? Where?"
"That girl leaning on the rail. White pleated skirt, light blouse, gray shawl. Even from the back—I'm smitten."
"Yeah right. You're always smitten. Everyone is."
"I'm serious. I'm getting her WeChat."
"…Don't bother. That girl's from Yuyang. Her name's Ji Yu. She's got a boyfriend."
Afternoon sun scorched the city. Ji Yu wanted nothing more than to nap. But she feared oversleeping—missing the closing of the Banxing Art Gallery.
Her expression was cool, mismatched with her light makeup and the vibrant summer streets flashing past the train window. She wore the plainest clothes she could match—balancing modesty with comfort. Yet the world always seemed to turn its gaze toward girls like her: young, beautiful, carrying unseen weight.
Arriving at the Banxing stop, Ji Yu pulled out a sunhat, bracing against the blazing sky.
Summer—less clothes. Winter—more clothes.
A joke people told, mocking their own longing for the opposite season.
Longing for summer in winter, for winter in summer.
Banxing Art Gallery.
A vast plaza spread before it.
The weather had no power here—the exhibition bustled. Today was the final day of Mo Yachen's solo show, and still, long lines filled the square.
Couples, families, ordinary people—all drawn by the trending name, eager for a taste of "high art."
But not everyone came for art.
At least, one person hadn't.