The next day, Ruan Mian woke before dawn. Lying in bed, she closed her eyes and recalled the short English essay she had memorized before sleeping the night before. Her memory was quite good; she recited it almost word for word.

This was a very good start.

She turned on her side to look out the window. The sky was as clear as a blue painting, boundless and vast. The sun revealed its full contour, filling the sky with red clouds.

Sunlight began to crawl in, illuminating tiny floating motes of dust.

The photo frame on the bedside table was shrouded in a ball of warm light. Ruan Mian shaded it with her hand, and in the shadow, the middle-aged woman’s face emerged clearly. Her brow held a faint sorrow, but her gaze was incredibly soft.

“Good morning, Mom.” She added softly, “Good morning, Ruan Mian.”

The wind rustled past the treetops outside the window, as if answering her.

Slowly, the entire room brightened. Ruan Mian jumped out of bed to wash up.

Seventeen or eighteen was the most beautiful age for a girl. Her skin was blow-up-able*, smooth and delicate. After splashing a handful of clear water over her face, the mirror revealed a fresh, lovely countenance, her cheeks still glowing with a faint pink.

She hung up the towel and walked out.

She checked the contents of her schoolbag once more, closed the door, and went downstairs. Passing the entrance hall on the first floor, she inadvertently glanced at the floor-length mirror.

After looking for a while, she took off her hair tie, letting her long hair cascade down. She looked again—was the school uniform skirt a bit monotonous and boring?

She went back to her room, picked and chose through her wardrobe, and finally selected a white dress to change into. The hem was pressed with a faint purple floral border; with every step she took, the flowers seemed to sway and bloom.

Satisfied, she went out.

After riding for about ten minutes, the blue lake appeared indistinctly amidst the small woods. Ruan Mian got off the bike and slowly walked toward the old house.

The main gate was open. She went straight in and looked around, but didn’t see that familiar, aged figure.

A crisp chirp broke the silence. Ruan Mian instinctively looked toward the sound, seeing only a slightly swaying branch; the bird was already gone.

She looked at her watch. It was only seven-ten. It seemed she was a bit early.

She parked her bike, intending to walk by the lake first. Unexpectedly, just as she turned around, the door to the main house was pulled open.

The man leaned against the doorframe, dressed entirely in a black shirt and trousers. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing his distinct collarbones. Ruan Mian couldn’t help but remember that afternoon by the lake…

She quickly looked away, afraid her gaze would uncontrollably explore further down.

“You’re here.” His voice was a bit low and husky, not very clear.

Ruan Mian nodded, following him inside and closing the door behind her.

He didn’t seem to treat her as an outsider at all. After leading her in, his figure flashed past, and he disappeared somewhere again.

Ruan Mian sat on the sofa, placing her schoolbag beside her. She looked at the liquor on the coffee table—it seemed a few new bottles had been added. Then she counted the cigarette butts in the ashtray…

After sitting for a good while, he still hadn’t returned. Ruan Mian had slept late the night before and was a little sleepy now. She covered her mouth to stifle a yawn. Footsteps gradually approached. She looked back—

The man had changed into a set of dark gray loungewear, the buttons fastened strictly to the top. His short hair hung slightly damp over his forehead, partially obscuring those narrow, deep eyes.

He walked straight to her side. “Sleepy?”

Thinking of the message he sent last night, Ruan Mian touched her hair embarrassedly. “A little.”

Qi Yan hooked his lips. He scooped up his phone from the coffee table, tapped it a few times with his long fingers, and music started playing. Ruan Mian instinctively looked at the screen, slightly surprised. He wanted to play a game?

He really did.

She remained seated. Accommodating her, he bent down slightly, his arm hanging by the side of the sofa, creating a posture that looked like he was half-embracing her.

He played while telling her, “Forward is ‘r’, jump is ‘j’… got it?”

Ruan Mian gave a distracted “Mm.”

But what was the point of memorizing this?

Qi Yan rubbed his brow and placed the phone in her hands. “Start.”

Huh? Wasn’t she here for tutoring?

He continued, “Your task for today is to pass the first level.”

“…”

Just like that, Ruan Mian sat there playing the game until her stomach started gurgling, and she still hadn’t passed the first level.

That man had easily cleared three levels in a row. She thought it would be easy, but this game tested one’s focus exceptionally well. The little monkey ate bananas; one banana equaled one gold coin. Collecting one hundred gold coins cleared the level. But there were traps everywhere. One moment of inattention, and the little monkey would be smashed to death by a giant Buddha’s palm falling from the sky.

Her best score was 36 gold coins, far below the passing line.

Just as she was preparing to play again, the phone suddenly rang. Ruan Mian didn’t retract her hand in time and accidentally hung up.

The other side called back quickly. This time, she finally saw the name flashing on the screen clearly: Su Hengyin.

For some reason, her chest suddenly tightened.

In the next instant, Ruan Mian jumped up from the sofa and ran upstairs, gripping the phone.

She thought he would be in the study, but no one was there. She walked to another room, pushed gently, and the door opened.

The ringing stopped.

She stood blankly on the spot, looking at the person sleeping on the bed. The thin blanket only covered him to his waist. Half of it hung down. Because he was sleeping on his side, half his face was hidden in shadow.

In the quiet room, it seemed only her heart was beating thump, thump, thump.

Ruan Mian licked her dry lips. Just as she was about to turn and leave silently, the phone rang in her palm again. She let out a low cry, nearly dropping it.

“Ruan Mian?” The man’s voice carried heavy drowsiness. “What is it?”

“…There’s a call.” She walked over, handed him the phone, and stood still.

Qi Yan sat up in bed, glanced at her, and answered the call.

“Qi Yan, I heard you’re back in the country?”

“Mm.” He was still looking at her, his gaze very deep.

“Why didn’t you tell me… By the way, next Wednesday is my birthday…”

The air conditioning in the bedroom was too strong; Ruan Mian couldn’t help but sneeze.

The voice on the phone stopped abruptly. Qi Yan’s expression didn’t change. He walked around her, bent down to pick up the remote control from the carpet, and turned off the air conditioner.

“I’m going to the UK next week.”

The other end paused, then squeezed out two words with difficulty, “Is it her?”

“No.”

Ruan Mian’s entire mind was spinning around the three words “going to the UK.” Her chest felt stuffy, a sensation like she couldn’t breathe. He’s leaving. Will he come back?

Qi Yan hung up the phone. He saw her staring fixedly at him, her gaze clear and soft. In the depths of her clear eyes, there seemed to be a surging shimmer of light.

Only then did he realize something was slightly inappropriate.

A young girl standing in a grown man’s bedroom seemed to carry an ambiguous implication that couldn’t quite be articulated.

Qi Yan looked away and asked indifferently, “Did you clear the level?”

Ruan Mian was stunned. “Not yet.”

“Continue.”

So she sat and played the game for another afternoon. Because this game could only be downloaded from a designated official website and couldn’t be installed on ordinary phones, the man gave her an iPad before he left. “Play for half an hour every day. Clear the level before I return. Can you do it?”

Joy rose in her heart: “When are you coming back?”

“It’s uncertain.”

Qi Yan was gone for more than half a month. Ruan Mian played the game very obediently every day. Although she hadn’t cleared the level yet, she was pleasantly surprised to find that she could always maintain focus for more than half an hour during class. She finally realized his intention.

He was using the game to train her attention span.

However, sometimes during class, her thoughts would still drift.

The history teacher said, “On September 28, 1864, workers from Britain, France, Germany, Italy, Poland, and other countries gathered at St. Martin’s Hall in London…”

The geography teacher asked, “What are the climate characteristics of Los Angeles in this season? What are the prevailing winds in London and Beijing, respectively…”

London, London.

She had checked online. It was light rain in that city today. What would he be doing?

Tomorrow is the Mid-Autumn Festival. Is he still not coming back?

The geography teacher finished explaining the exercises and instructed the class representative to go to the printing room to get the test papers after class. Ruan Mian heard Pan Tingting in front of her sighing while cracking sunflower seeds, “If I had known there were so many papers to do over the holiday, I’d rather not have the break!”

The phone in her drawer vibrated silently. She looked down. In her narrow field of vision, she could only see two words on the screen: “Am back”. She suddenly had a premonition.

Taking it out to look, she stared at the slender character “Yan” above the message and couldn’t help but smile. Then, realizing class wasn’t over yet, she didn’t dare smile too broadly.

A simple word, yet it broke open all the joy in her heart.

Zeng Yushu saw his deskmate suddenly slump onto the desk, her shoulders trembling slightly. He thought she was crying and felt somewhat at a loss. But then she lifted her head, her face brimming with a smile.

Truly, a smile like a flower.

He unconsciously stared, entranced. His hand clenched into a fist under the desk. Wait for the college entrance exam… wait until the exams are over, and he would…

As soon as the bell rang, Ruan Mian began packing her things.

When Pan Tingting turned around, Ruan Mian’s figure was already vanishing through the doorway. “Hey, Ruan Mian, why the rush? The geography papers haven’t been handed out yet!”

Ruan Mian couldn’t wait a second longer. She pedaled her bicycle furiously, her mood like the floral scent permeating the streets—soft, sweet, and utterly messy.

He’s back.

He’s back!

Ten minutes later, carrying her heavy school bag, she stood outside the main house, suddenly a little nervous. She was afraid her happiness was too obvious, that he would instantly glimpse the secret hidden deep in her heart.

However, such worry was superfluous.

Pushing open the unlatched door, Ruan Mian walked in quietly. She saw empty wine bottles scattered haphazardly on the coffee table and the floor of the living room. Her gaze then fell on the sofa…

The man was sleeping quietly with his eyes closed, his breathing even.

Did he drink so much because he was in a bad mood?

Ruan Mian’s heart sank. She looked around for the thin blanket from last time, but couldn’t find it. She had no choice but to sit on the rattan chair opposite him, watching him while she waited.

He probably didn’t expect her to come over at this time, right?

After sitting for about half an hour, Ruan Mian rested her chin on her hand, staring at him tirelessly. As her gaze shifted, a thought arose. She closed her eyes to recall it, then dipped her finger in water and began to draw on the table.

For some reason, her hand still shook whenever she held a paintbrush. The small starry sky painting she gave Teacher Zhao last time was created by painstakingly smearing paint with her fingers.

First, draw the eyes she liked the most.

Narrow, deep. Closed now, the corners slightly tinged with red from intoxication.

Deep eyes, straight nose—it was the most perfect profile she had ever seen.

Next were the lips.

Upper lip, lower lip. She outlined the thin, slightly pursed shape on the table with the softest lines. It felt as if she were touching the real thing, and her cheeks burned with heat.

Hot and thirsty.

She looked at the half-finished red wine on the coffee table and licked her lips. He likes drinking so much. Does it taste really good? Just a taste. She was an adult now.

Ruan Mian poured a small amount, mimicking his movements. She swirled it first, then lowered her head to take a small sip. It was a bit bitter. She frowned and swallowed it, but a faint sweetness began to spread between her lips and teeth. She took another sip…

It grew hotter, as if small fires were kindling inside her body. A bold voice emerged from her heart: He’s drunk. He won’t know.

Ruan Mian’s head was dizzy, as if under a spell. Dragging her soft legs, she walked toward the man.

Very close now.

Close enough to see his long black eyelashes casting a clear shadow under his eyes, close enough to smell the faint scent of alcohol—she didn’t know if it was his or hers.

Just once. Just once is enough.

She liked him.

She intended to touch lightly like a dragonfly skimming water, touch and retreat immediately. But as soon as her lips gently pressed against his, her whole body felt an electric shock, and her heart beat so wildly it didn’t seem like her own.

She touched her burning cheeks. Did that count as a kiss?

But… this is wrong!

In her panic, Ruan Mian accidentally pursed her lips—indirectly sucking lightly on his lower lip. Her ears instantly turned crimson.

She took a deep breath, about to retreat, when she belatedly sensed something. Slowly, she lowered her head.

At some point, the man’s eyes had opened slightly. She met his gaze, which held a hint of haziness. The hand supporting herself beside him suddenly went weak…

💝 Support the Team

possible odoabuchi

✍️ Translator

☕ Buy Me a Coffee