The Ye family lived right next door to the Su family—just upstairs and downstairs from each other.

It wasn’t surprising to see Ye Zhen here.

Su Wan could barely remember when the Ye grandparents had first moved into the courtyard—she’d just always known they were there.

In her memories, Ye Zhen had been a troublemaker from the start.

He didn’t just pick fights within their own courtyard; he’d battled his way through nearly every one of the ten surrounding compounds.

His reputation as a delinquent was well-earned.

Yet, strangely, none of his victims truly hated him. Instead, they seemed to respect—or even fear—him. Walk past him on the street, and they’d still call him "big brother."

Wherever Ye Zhen went, a crowd followed.

By any standard—past or future—he was the textbook definition of a hoodlum.

Another reason for his notoriety? His complete lack of ambition.

Su Wan remembered how, in elementary school, while other kids sat obediently in class, Ye Zhen would climb trees. When asked what he was doing, he’d grin and say, "Enjoying the view."

By middle school, their paths diverged—she moved to a farther school, while he seemed to vanish entirely.

Her class at the new school had no Ye Zhen.

Yet whenever she asked Old Lady Ye about her grandson, the answer was always the same: "He’s studying."

Then came high school.

Rumors spread that Ye Zhen had dropped out.

His family background wasn’t "good enough" for further education.

With Ye Zhen no longer in school, Su Wan started seeing him more often around the courtyard.

Now a lanky teenager—nearly 1.8 meters tall—he’d lounge on the stone table beneath the tree or loiter outside his home.

Whenever Su Wan returned from school, books in hand, he’d call out:

"Xiaowan’s back."

Back then, his face wasn’t as cold as it was now. His eyes sparkled with mischief, and his peach-blossom gaze held a dangerous allure—one that made it impossible to meet his stare directly.

That nickname—"Xiaowan"—always flushed her cheeks. No one in her family called her that. How dare he flirt like this? He was terrible.

Yes, terrible.

Everyone in the courtyard said so—including her own family.

"That Ye boy does nothing but cause trouble, dragging a gang of hooligans around, even scalping movie tickets. Once, he almost got caught by the neighborhood aunties."

As a proper, rule-abiding girl, Su Wan wanted nothing to do with someone like Ye Zhen.

Every time she climbed the stairs, she’d glance around nervously, trying to sneak past unnoticed.

If he wasn’t home, she’d breathe a sigh of relief and hurry up.

If she ran into him? She’d lower her head and sprint faster.

She remembered one time when Ye Zhen cornered her on the staircase landing, demanding, "Why are you running?"

At sixteen, Su Wan hadn’t known how to respond.

His tone was sharp, intimidating. Panicking, she blurted out, "My brother told me not to talk to you."

Her eldest brother was much older, from a different generation. Surely Ye Zhen wouldn’t dare bother him.

(And her brother had warned her to stay away from the courtyard’s delinquents—to protect her reputation.)

Su Wan kept her head down, unsure how Ye Zhen reacted.

After a long pause, she heard a derisive snort. Then: "So you think my background’s too dirty to sully your name?"

She didn’t answer. (Truthfully, she hadn’t thought that—but she wasn’t about to admit it now.)

After that, Ye Zhen stopped calling her "Xiaowan." Their encounters grew even rarer.

Then, societal winds shifted. The Ye family’s "problematic" background was quietly forgotten.

Once, while hanging laundry on the rooftop, Su Wan bumped into Old Lady Ye. Their conversation somehow turned to Ye Zhen’s education.

The old woman chuckled. "That boy refuses to study. Too stubborn for his own good. Last month, he ran off saying he was going to make money to marry a wife. I can’t control him."

Nearly a year passed before Su Wan saw Ye Zhen again.

By then, she was already dating Zhou Ziming.

One afternoon, after a park stroll, Zhou Ziming walked her to the courtyard gate—where Ye Zhen stood waiting. year had changed him.

He’d grown taller, now clad in a black leather jacket and matching pants, knee-high boots thudding against the ground. His eyes were dark, his aura heavy with barely restrained violence.

Su Wan’s first thought: Yep. Still a delinquent. That glare—like he wanted to devour whoever he looked at.

She didn’t speak to him.

He didn’t acknowledge her either, only shooting Zhou Ziming a venomous glance before vanishing.

After that, their meetings became sporadic—just occasional glimpses in the courtyard.

Yet Su Wan’s relationship with Old Lady Ye remained warm.

The elderly woman carried herself with the grace of a noblewoman, rumored to have come from a once-wealthy family.

Back when Su Wan and Zhou Ziming first got serious, Old Lady Ye had asked, "Do you really like that Zhou boy?"

Of course she did—why else would they be dating?

(Too bad her sincerity had been wasted.)

At the time, Old Lady Ye just smiled.

When Su Wan and Zhou Ziming married that winter, Old Lady Ye gifted them a pair of pillowcases.

After the wedding, visits to the courtyard became rare.

Then, not long after, the Ye grandparents disappeared.

Some said Ye Zhen’s father—a man who’d been away in Hong Kong for over a decade—had finally returned to take them away.

Others whispered that Old Lady Ye’s health had declined, and they’d gone abroad for treatment.

The courtyard folk had never been close to the Ye family, so no one knew the truth.

They were gone for nearly twenty years.

By the time Su Wan heard from Ye Zhen again, it was through a phone call in her previous life—a single conversation between two strangers who’d once been neighbors.

Now, standing face-to-face, she studied him.

The man gripping a half-smoked cigarette was coiled tight with tension, his sharp features radiating the same rebellious energy she remembered from youth.

His lips pressed into a thin line, brows furrowed in irritation, as if her very presence offended him.

So different from the calm, composed Ye Zhen of her memories—the one who’d spoken to her with quiet patience over the phone.

Truthfully, Ye Zhen had never done anything truly evil. The courtyard’s disdain stemmed entirely from his abrasive attitude.

Like a hedgehog, he bristled at any approach, making genuine connection impossible.

Fine, Su Wan thought. No point in reasoning with him.

She wiped her tears, forcing a wobbly smile. "It’s not your fault. I ran into you."

Her response clearly caught him off guard.

He hadn’t expected her to admit fault—let alone stand there smiling at him.

Why was she smiling?

With a curse, Ye Zhen flicked away his cigarette and stepped closer.

Their toes nearly touched.

Su Wan blinked. What the hell was he doing? Was he about to hit her?

Just as she prepared to retreat, he spoke:

"Smiling? Ugly as hell."