The rainy season in Bai City was very long.

There was a shortcut home. After leaving school, one had to first pass through an alley where water still dripped from the eaves and the ground remained wet. With bad luck, stepping on a broken brick would ruin both shoes and pants.

Turning the corner, Qing Hang suddenly stopped. Two people stood close together in the distance, talking, with occasional laughter drifting over.

He had seen Cheng Wanyue earlier that morning before class. Today she wore a very short pleated skirt, with matching knee-high socks that ended just below her knees, leaving visible the obvious red marks on the back of her thigh where mosquitoes had bitten her.

Qing Hang pressed his lips together, his handsome features betraying little emotion. He simply lowered his umbrella to block the sight of the two figures and turned to walk back, planning to take another route.

“Qing Hang!”

She had spotted him after all.

“I’ve twisted my ankle. Could you help me?” Her request came with natural entitlement, yet revealed undisguised coquettishness and intimacy.

With his back to them, Qing Hang heard her tell the boy from the sports class to leave first. The boy was reluctant and wanted to take her home, but she brushed him off after a few replies, growing somewhat impatient.

“No need to trouble yourself. Qing Hang will take me home.”

After sending the boy away, Cheng Wanyue spread her school uniform jacket on a stone bench and sat down, holding onto the wall for support. She called “Qing Hang” repeatedly, sounding pitiful one moment, angry the next, then aggrieved.

From several meters away, Qing Hang’s heart rose and fell with her changing tone. She always recklessly provoked and toyed with him like this, callously discarding him after getting what she wanted. Then, when she thought of him again, she would easily set another trap, waiting for him to fall in once more.

He knew this clearly, yet still fell into her traps.

He kept reminding himself to hide his feelings well, to never let her see through him, or she would become smug. But before he realized it, he had already walked up to her.

The narrow, dim alley couldn’t hide the bright smile in her eyes.

She had won again.

“It hurts so much, I’m not lying to you.”

“Where did you twist it?”

She raised her hand, pointing casually ahead. “Right at those steps. I even heard my bone crack.”

Qing Hang stuffed the umbrella into her hand and silently crouched down, holding her foot that was swinging gently in the air. He couldn’t feel much through her sock, but no matter where he touched, she cried out in pain.

“Carry me on your back,” she said I can’t walk, not even one step.

Qing Hang hung his backpack around his neck, then took off his school uniform jacket and tied the sleeves around her waist. He crouched down with his back toward her. Her body was so soft that when she lay against his back, he even worried his bones might hurt her.

She held the umbrella, and a raindrop fell on his forehead, instantly clearing his mind. He stood up with her on his back, taking her school uniform jacket that had been spread on the stone bench as well. This way, his hands wouldn’t directly touch her skin, yet the body heat against his back still reddened his ears.

Cheng Wanyue leaned on his shoulder. “I want to go to your place. My parents are working overtime and won’t be home until late. Cheng Yanqing went out to play right after school. I’d just be alone if I went home.”

The hem of her skirt brushed softly across his wrist, somewhat ticklish. Qing Hang didn’t speak, but changed direction and headed toward his home.

“I waited for so long. What took you so long? That study representative in your class is really annoying. She’s always asking you questions at school, and even after class, she wastes your time. Can’t she ask the teacher instead? Qing Hang, you’re not allowed to like her.”

“She’s just a classmate. I won’t like her,” Qing Hang couldn’t resist asking, “What was he saying to you just now?”

“He said he had the answers to some test papers. Who would copy answers? That’s so stupid,” Cheng Wanyue hugged his neck tighter. “Besides, I have you. I don’t need answers.”

She clearly felt Qing Hang’s emotional shift after she said this, and he didn’t seem as cold as before.

Qing Hang carried Cheng Wanyue back to his home, walking directly into the bedroom and setting her down on the cool chair by the window.

Grandpa had gone back to the village, so there were only the two of them at home.

This wasn’t Cheng Wanyue’s first visit; she came frequently. Qing Hang’s room was neat and clean, just like the person himself.

Qing Hang went out and came back holding a bottle of red flower oil. Cheng Wanyue naturally raised her injured foot and rested it on his leg. He first helped her remove her shoe, then her sock. Her foot looked small and delicate in his palm.

He poured some red flower oil into his palm and wrapped his hand around her ankle.

Though he was already being very gentle, she still let out soft cries of pain. The air was humid and stuffy. She was the one with the sprain, yet he was the one covered in sweat.

Finally done applying the oil, Qing Hang sighed in relief and got up to wash his hands outside.

Cheng Wanyue lowered her head to look at her foot. When he returned with a glass of water, she sat up properly and said, “The cool chair is so hard, it hurts my bottom.”

“Go sit on the bed.”

“How can I go like this?”

She rested one leg on the armrest of the cool chair and swung it gently. With her sock removed, her white toes gleamed with a delicate luster. Qing Hang averted his gaze, put down the water glass, and crouched in front of her.

“I want to be carried. Being on your back isn’t comfortable.”

Qing Hang said, “It’s just two steps away.”

“I still want to be carried,” she extended a finger and gently poked his arm. “Can’t you carry me?”

He struggled for less than three seconds before giving in. So he could only turn to face her, and she, finally satisfied, held onto him and stood on one foot. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he instinctively embraced her. She used the momentum to jump onto him, causing him to sway slightly. Afraid of falling, she wrapped both legs tightly around his waist.

The softness beneath her thin blouse unexpectedly pressed against him, and her fragrance also silently seeped into his pores. The distance between the cool chair and the bed was only two steps, but Qing Hang couldn’t even take one step.

The short skirt was practically useless, barely concealing the youth’s clumsy, raw physiological reaction.

A very slight sound came from nearby, like something rolling onto the floor.

Qing Hang had no spare attention to see what it was, until Cheng Wanyue whispered in his ear that a button on her top had popped off. As she spoke, her warm breath blew into the nape of his neck, her lips touching his earlobe. He wasn’t sure if she had noticed his unusual body temperature.

Cheng Wanyue lowered her head to look under the cool chair, but the button had rolled out of sight. Qing Hang still stood motionless.

She felt as if she might fall at any moment and could only cling tightly to his neck, urging in a soft voice, “Why aren’t you moving? The button of my clothes fell off.”

Qing Hang snapped back to reality and stiffly moved his legs to carry Cheng Wanyue to the bed and set her down. It was just two steps, but he had nearly exposed his shameful physiological reaction. Fortunately, the light in the room was rather dim.

Fine rain carried by humid wind blew in, making the air very stuffy.

After the button had popped off, her milk-white cotton undershirt was exposed. The young girl’s body was slender, but the curve of her chest was quite noticeable from the side.

He had touched her before.

That day it was also raining, in that alley near the Cheng house. He had kissed her and also touched her.

He had thought it would scare her away.

Qing Hang hurriedly looked away a second before she raised her head. This was his own room, yet he felt somewhat awkward. He turned around in place before crouching down to look for her button.

Cheng Wanyue lay on the pillow watching him. “Can you see? Why don’t you turn on the light?”

Qing Hang answered quietly, “I can see.”

His features were refined, and in front of others he always maintained a calm and composed demeanor. Even if someone said very hurtful things to his face, he would show little reaction.

The cool chair was very low, so he had to kneel on one knee to see underneath it. The school uniform jacket had been crumpled into a ball and thrown onto the chair by Cheng Wanyue. He wore only a short-sleeved school shirt on his upper body. Keeping his body very low, he reached one hand under the chair to feel for the button. This position caused the bones in his back to protrude, the youth’s body thin but harboring an unknown strength.

Cheng Wanyue noticed that the back of his neck was covered in sweat. How could he be sweating so much? Was she too heavy?

Her gaze moved upward, stopping at his ear beneath his short hair.

So red.

“Found it,” Qing Hang stood up with the button and wiped the dust off it.

“Just put it on the table for now,” Cheng Wanyue casually pointed to a spot. With her hair in a fishtail braid, she looked like a well-behaved good student. “Qing Hang, do you like me?”

The young man froze. He lowered his head to avoid her direct gaze, almost fleeing in panic. “I’ll go get you something to eat…”

“Stop right there…”

Qing Hang had just reached the doorway when he heard a delicate cry of pain from behind.

“It hurts so much!”

Though he knew she was doing it on purpose, he instinctively turned back. The young girl was standing barefoot on the floor, the corners of her eyes reddened as if tears might fall at any moment. He walked quickly to the bedside, helped her sit back on the bed, and lifted his T-shirt to wipe the dust off her foot.

She was ticklish, and when she curled her toes, they brushed against his waist and abdomen.

The grip on her ankle suddenly tightened, causing her to cry out dramatically in surprise, making him anxious and concerned. But then she suddenly laughed and leaned in, kissing him on the jaw.

Too close.

He could even clearly see his reflection in her eyes.

As he lowered his head to pursue her lips, Cheng Wanyue placed both hands on the bedding and leaned backward. “You have to say you like me before you can kiss me.”

Qing Hang was bewitched. He knew clearly that this kiss was just bait, but he still fell into her trap.

“I like you. I like you very much.”

Hearing the satisfactory answer, the corners of her eyes crinkled with a bright smile. Her laughter was swallowed by his eager, clumsy kiss, leaving only faint, soft gasps.

She couldn’t support the weight of both of them. Her elbow bent, and she fell back onto the bed. The young man’s hot body quickly pressed against her. The moment she opened her mouth to speak, he thrust his tongue inside. The innocent kiss turned fierce, like an angry young beast. The huntress laughed at his youthful ignorance, his lack of technique, and his not knowing how to please. With only brute force, he burst out of the trap, attempting to attack with claws and teeth, biting and gnawing, determined to turn his opponent into prey before stopping.

Because he knew that whatever she said would surely be mockery. She was clever, and with the experience from last time, she wouldn’t be so flustered again. With a heart set on revenge, she would only embarrass him.

Cheng Wanyue bit him once, taking the opportunity to turn her head and catch her breath. She glared at him reproachfully, “Are you going to eat me up?”

Her eyes were misty, and her voice was coquettish. Just as Qing Hang relaxed because her words weren’t mocking, she suddenly exerted force to push him down, taking the chance to straddle him.

Under his shocked gaze, she pulled down his pants.

“Cheng Wanyue!”

“Shh, be quiet.” Not only did she not show any restraint, but her mischievous hand reached for the last piece of fabric covering his lower body. “This is for using your strength to bully me last time. Am I so easy to bully?”

Her bold behavior almost trampled on Qing Hang’s sense of shame, yet his physiological reaction grew even stronger. His breathing quickened, his face flushed bright red. Reason told him to stop her, but his body hoped she would go further.

Cheng Wanyue had heard from others that these things were usually quite ugly, blackish, and some even disgusting.

“Qing Hang, why is it… pink?”

Cheng Wanyue knelt with her legs apart on either side of the young man’s body, one hand braced on his abdomen. When she bent down to take a closer look, her warm breath blew onto his skin.

Originally just a soft lump, once freed from the constraints of his underwear, it stood up right in front of her eyes. It wasn’t ugly; even the rounded head had a flesh-pink tint. Like a living creature, it trembled and released a bit of sticky fluid.

She smelled the scent of desire.

This smell mixed with the rain and earth blown into the bedroom by the wind—humid yet passionate—urging her to begin a game aimed at teasing and provoking him.

Cheng Wanyue extended a finger and lightly touched it. She couldn’t describe the sensation. Her face was very close, her lips kissed to a bright red and still glistening with moisture, parted slightly in surprise that the thing before her could grow even larger, her red lips opening and closing as if taking him in.

The young man’s handsome face was red as blood, his uncontrollable bodily reaction impossible to hide. The shame surging in his heart nearly crushed his proud bones. He could have resisted, could have stopped her outrageous behavior with just a bit of force, then driven her out of his house—rain or no rain, she had plenty of friends who would come at her call. Yet he never took action, allowing her to continue her mischief.

She had a wicked thought. Her nail suddenly scraped along the ridge, stimulating him so much that his body jerked upward before falling heavily back onto the bed. A gasp like that of a young beast fighting for its life escaped his throat, and the corners of his eyes reddened.

It seemed to feel good.

But she wasn’t here to make him feel good.

That day in the alley, she had been pushed against the wall by Qing Hang, her back hitting it painfully. He bit her heedlessly and fiercely, his hand gripping her waist but not reaching under her clothes. However, the force with which he thrust and ground against her thighs through the fabric grew heavier with each push. When she got home and locked the door, she secretly lifted her skirt to check and found a large red patch on her inner thigh that stung even at the lightest touch.

Fierce like a sharp blade, yet fragile when gripped by her.

At this moment, even if she made him beg, he would agree without hesitation.

She was a princess spoiled by privilege, fond of watching others show weakness before her. If he were to plead, “Yueyue, help me,” like a supplicant, she would bestow pleasure upon him as if granting a favor. But he wouldn’t. Silently competing, he wrapped her hand and guided it down from his waist. She had recovered from the breathless discomfort and regained some energy. Closing her fingers, she gripped him tightly, smiling triumphantly when she heard his stifled groan of need.

She flicked her tongue out to lick his Adam’s apple, waiting for him to beg her.

Her eyes said: Beg me, Qing Hang, beg me, and I’ll make you feel good.

His slightly raised body was pressed heavily into the bedding. Qing Hang fiercely entangled her tongue with his, tasting blood in her mouth. His waist exerted force, thrusting his member to move in her palm.

The rain fell harder, with gusts of wind and flashes of lightning alternating, as if about to tear off the roof.

Sighs were soaked in the humid air, and his lower body movements became increasingly unrestrained. Sweat from his jaw dripped onto her face.

Cheng Wanyue’s stamina was far less than his. In the gradually darkening sky, he watched as she exhausted her strength and revealed a pitiful fragility, unconsciously swallowing his saliva, relaxing her body to let him have his way. The swelling pleasure was about to burst.

A white light washed away the last line of defense in his mind, and he could no longer hold back. Burying his face in her sweaty neck, he roared lowly as he reached a thoroughly satisfying release.

…

Qing Hang’s eyes flew open. The space beside him was empty. Outside the window, the sky was turning white. The pouring rain had torn a gap in the sky, as if to submerge the city.

The wet heat under the covers reminded him that the young girl’s coquettish laughter and the pleasure of their entangled bodies had been just a dream.

Eight years had passed.

This wasn’t the first time he’d had such an absurd dream. In his dreams, he was still the student sponsored by the Cheng family, barely friends with the Cheng siblings. Everyone, both at school and outside, thought so.

That’s why Cheng Wanyue could so easily cast him aside. No one knew.

When those long-unseen old classmates mentioned him now, they would at most exclaim: He used the Cheng family to leave their small county town, yet showed no gratitude, cutting off contact, abandoning his past to thrive in the big city—selfish enough and cold-hearted enough.

There was surgery scheduled for this afternoon. Qing Hang had woken up too early. After washing away the sweat and heat in the bathroom, he stood by the window smoking. This downpour showed no signs of stopping.

All he could hear was the sound of rain. The tobacco briefly soothed the restlessness in his body, and he thought again of that dream, so incredibly real yet so unattainable.

Eight years ago, that rain had left Cheng Wanyue in that shabby courtyard. She slept in his bed while he kept watch outside the door all night. The next morning, the rain showed no signs of letting up. He had ridiculously thought his all-night prayers had been answered. He had hoped the rain wouldn’t stop, that it would continue a bit longer. She hated having her clothes and shoes soiled by muddy water so much that even if she found his home boring, she would stay a little longer.

But the person trapped in that rain, unable to escape no matter what, was him.