First Collaboration

As it turned out, Jiang Wenzhe was still too busy. In the days that followed, he couldn't spare a single moment to film videos with Lin Sangyu. He did, however, manage not to stand her up entirely—after wrapping up all his work, he stayed one extra day in London.

When Lin Sangyu heard the news, she was overjoyed. "You're finally done! I feel like I haven't seen you in over ten days."

"Over ten days?" Jiang Wenzhe's hand, which had been browsing tutorial videos with the mouse, paused slightly. He turned to look at her. "Then who's the one who clings to me every night and won't let go?"

"That's different," Lin Sangyu pouted. "You come back so late every night that I'm already half-asleep, so it feels like I never get to see you at all." She added, "Isn't it supposed to be true that people abroad work less? Why are they piling so much work on you?"

"Because besides dealing with them, we also have internal meetings, prep work, and summary materials."

Busy with them during the day, busy with you at night.

The two weren't in conflict.

Lin Sangyu muttered quietly, "You really are busy, huh."

"Can't be helped," Jiang Wenzhe said, sounding almost wistful. "I've got a family to feed."

Family? Are we a family?

Just then, Jiang Wenzhe shut down his laptop and said, "Alright, I've finished. Let's go."

Lin Sangyu's train of thought had barely gotten started when it was interrupted. She had to settle for a simple, "Oh, okay."

Under his watchful gaze, in the blink of an eye, she transformed right back into her sugar glider form.

Her clothes scattered across the floor.

Jiang Wenzhe shook his head helplessly and picked up each garment one by one, hanging them up neatly before he grudgingly dealt with the little creature rolling around on the ground.

He crouched, scooped her up into his palm, and poked her fluffy head. "Don't transform on the floor anymore, got it?" he warned.

Lin Sangyu gave a perfunctory chirp or two, then began scampering up his arm. The soft touch of her fur, combined with the rhythmic press of her tiny paws, sent a strange, tingly, electric sensation crawling up his limb.

She only stopped once she reached his shoulder.

Jiang Wenzhe had once asked her, "Why do you always like to perch on my shoulder?"

Back then, Lin Sangyu had answered without missing a beat. "I want to know what it feels like to see the world from a six-foot-three vantage point."

Jiang Wenzhe had nodded in approval and replied, "Fair enough. If I were only five-foot-five, I'd probably long to be taller too."

Lin Sangyu, who at that point hadn't been human for very long, had flared up on the spot and, out of pure instinct, sunk her teeth into him.

Given the significant height difference, that bite landed squarely on Jiang Wenzhe's left chest, leaving behind two curved semicircular marks like gears that had cut into the skin.

Even now, faint scars from the ordeal remained on his chest.

When he'd searched online to check, he'd found out that biting was perfectly normal for sugar gliders. Wild ones, in particular, would bite and even maim each other over status and resources—it was their survival instinct.

Was this a stress response from lingering wild instincts?

That wouldn't do.

In the human world, one had to follow human rules.

"Come here."

After treating his wound simply and firmly, Jiang Wenzhe spoke to Lin Sangyu, who was standing at a distance, having secretly watched his entire process of tending to himself.

Without thinking, she took a step forward in obedience to the command, then, catching herself, immediately shrank backward in fear. Her body tensed up, like a child who had done something wrong and was awaiting punishment.

"Now you know you've messed up? Where was that sense when it happened?" His gaze was unwavering. He repeated, "I said, come here."

It took about two or three minutes before Lin Sangyu, red-eyed, finally shuffled forward bit by bit, one agonizing step at a time. Just as she got near, her voice came out thick with tears. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."

As she spoke, a single tear, as large as a bean, rolled down her cheek and landed on the back of Jiang Wenzhe's hand.

It was still early spring then, and a cold wind was howling through the open window. The breeze whisked away the glistening droplet on his skin in an instant, leaving behind only a patch of air-brushed skin, smoothed over after the tear had evaporated.

Jiang Wenzhe reached out and wiped the tears from her face. His tone was gentle. "Why are you so quick to cry?"

What a crybaby.

But then he paused, thinking it over.

Tears that come, after all, are better than the numbness of despair.

When pain reaches its extreme, even tears abandon you.

Besides, the human body is a sea of its own—seventy percent water. The weight of a person in another's heart is measured by how much of that seventy percent they occupy.

Lin Sangyu had shed tears for him today. That drop of salty water had followed its owner's will and, driven by free choice, left the vast ocean of her body. Didn't that count for something—as proof that she cared?

At that thought, Jiang Wenzhe's mood perked up inexplicably. Carefully, he tucked the loose strands of hair behind her ear, revealing her flushed, tear-streaked face. "I wasn't blaming you anyway," he said. "Just don't bite anymore, okay? In the human world, you have to follow the rules. Hurting people isn't right. As long as you remember never to do it again, that's fine."

Hearing this, Lin Sangyu cried even harder. Tears and snot mingled, and she wiped everything onto Jiang Wenzhe's clothes without a second thought.

Jiang Wenzhe flicked her reddened nose. "If you're going to cry, cry. But what's this about wiping your mess on me?"

He had a thing about cleanliness.

Lin Sangyu froze for a second, then took a step back, standing alone in the corner, looking pathetic as she wiped her eyes.

Her nose was red. Her shoulders were heaving.

Jiang Wenzhe clenched his fist, then let it go. He pulled her back into his arms. Inside his mind, a hundred tiny versions of him were wrestling, and the one that came out on top said: *Just this once. No crying in my arms next time. It's filthy.*

*

London weather had turned warmer today, shrugging off the perpetual damp chill. The wind brushed against the skin, carrying a sticky, irritating heat.

Today, no driver was called—Jiang Wenzhe drove. Following the crude little map Lin Sangyu had sketched out while bored in the hotel a few days ago, the car glided smoothly along the Thames.

Their first stop: the Tower of London.

According to Lin Sangyu's instructions, they had over ten photo spots to hit today, with way more tasks than time. Jiang Wenzhe barely had time to park before he was striding toward their destination.

At the entrance to the Jewel House inside the Tower, the tall, square, imposing twin towers stood side by side under an ornate vintage brass clock that ticked away the years.

Following the bustling crowd, Jiang Wenzhe set Lin Sangyu down on a limestone wall pitted with deep and shallow weather-worn grooves.

Lin Sangyu started climbing the uneven tower wall, her small, fuzzy body sticking tightly to the surface. Her fluffy tail swayed slightly to adjust her balance, her steps quick yet steady.

"Wow, look! There's an adorable little glider climbing up the wall."

"Good grief, I never thought I'd live long enough to see a cute rat exist in this world!"

"It's so cute."

Some of the surrounding tourists caught sight of her, and a few white women paused in wonder to watch.

Amid their admiring chatter, Jiang Wenzhe switched on the camera and raised his palm. Lin Sangyu spread her gliding membrane and rode the wind down, landing smoothly in his hand.

After the shoot, Jiang Wenzhe hit replay on the camera. One glider and one human, four eyes wide with anticipation, leaned in to check the fruit of their first official collaboration.

Halfway through watching, Lin Sangyu started squeaking anxiously. "Eeek! Eeek! Eeek!"

What was this even supposed to be?

Weren't they supposed to film her before she jumped? Why did the shot start with her flying down already?

And what about that scenic transition they'd planned? If they'd named it after the view, then why wasn't the view in it? Why was it zoomed in so close, just on her? She climbed all the way up here specifically to get the full panorama of the Tower of London, didn't she?

Jiang Wenzhe was too clueless.

On his end, he had obviously realized his mistake the moment he saw the replay. He pulled up the reference video Lin Sangyu had sent him to compare, and sure enough, it was way off the mark.

Not one to make excuses, he patted Lin Sangyu's head and admitted plainly, "This one's not good. My bad. Let's take it again."

"Eeek! Eeek! Eeek!"

Lin Sangyu didn't dwell on it either, since everyone had their blind spots. Willingly enough, she scampered up the wall once more.

This time, the result was clearly much better—right angle, right lighting, steady shots, and every scene in the frame.

As a reward, Lin Sangyu nuzzled against Jiang Wenzhe's neck.

Man, you're awesome!

The rest of the itinerary followed along the banks of the Thames.

Tower Bridge, St. Paul's Cathedral, the London Eye, Big Ben... they left their footprints at each stop.

They shot from morning until the sky was full of sunset. Lin Sangyu collapsed bonelessly into the passenger seat, staring at her own limbs with total exhaustion, too spent even to complain properly. "Jiang Wenzhe, I think I'm dead."

Jiang Wenzhe kept his eyes on the road, replying, "Two more minutes to the restaurant."

A moment passed. Then, as if thinking out loud, Lin Sangyu mused, "If only there were a six-foot-four, dashing, devilishly handsome, amazing man willing to feed me dinner."

Jiang Wenzhe shot her a look. "Speak like a normal person."

Lin Sangyu flipped her expression instantly, turning on the puppy-dog eyes. "Jiang Wenzhe~ I've been climbing all day. My hands hurt so much and they're so tired. Would you be willing to feed me later? I swear, just this once."

"Deal."

"What deal?" Lin Sangyu leaned closer, practically vibrating with curiosity.

His Adam's apple bobbed. When his voice came, it was low and restrained. "I'll feed you this once. In exchange, you'll agree to do something with me."

Lin Sangyu didn't hesitate for a second. "Deal!"

"Not asking what it is?"

"Whatever it is, I've got you covered." She puffed out her chest with pride.

The sunset's glow cut like a blade across Jiang Wenzhe's face, splitting it into stark patches of light and shadow.

He said, "Next month, on my birthday, come with me to a banquet."