In the courtyard of Great-Uncle’s house stood a low table over three meters long, covered with a bamboo mat where one could either lie down or sit. Great-Aunt had lit some mugwort to repel mosquitoes and cut up watermelon that had been chilled in well water. The group lay on the bamboo mat gazing at the stars.
The stars, frightened away by the city, had fled to the countryside where they crowded together in clusters. Great-Aunt was tidying up the house while Great-Uncle and Chen An chatted. Cheng Lele listened for a while before drowsiness overtook her. Before long, she drifted off to sleep. Once she was sound asleep, she rolled over and tumbled into Chen An’s embrace.
Chen An was still engaged in nighttime conversation with Great-Uncle when he finally noticed that Cheng Lele had fallen asleep. Her mouth was slightly open, one leg draped over Chen An’s body, with a bright red mosquito bite on her leg.
“Should we wake her and have her go sleep inside?” Great-Aunt asked.
Chen An said, “Once she’s asleep, you can’t wake her. I’ll carry her in later.”
Great-Uncle stood up yawning, saying it was getting late and he needed to sleep, advising Chen An not to stay up too late either. Chen An acknowledged this and watched as Great-Uncle and Great-Aunt entered their room.
Chen An lay back down, casually picking up a palm-leaf fan to gently fan away mosquitoes. The Cheng Lele in his arms was already snoring softly, clearly exhausted from the day’s activities.
Under the bright moonlight, everything was laid bare. Chen An gazed at Cheng Lele’s fair neck, at her pert nose bridge, at her crimson little mouth. A slight warmth flowed from his heart through his limbs, transforming at his fingertips into some mysterious force urging him to lift his hand and caress the girl’s sweet-scented face.
The temperature at his fingertip became scorching hot the instant it slid across her skin. A strange emotion welled up in his heart again, made exceptionally clear by the transparent moonlight. Chen An, who had always been clever, suddenly saw the truth after previously groping blindly like a blind man feeling an elephant, unable to grasp the answer. He felt a bit flustered, but under the evening breeze and amid Cheng Lele’s gentle breathing, this unease dissipated like smoke. He thought that Cheng Lele had depended on him and relied on him since childhood, and would continue to do so in the future. When they lived together later, it wouldn’t be much different from now. Cheng Lele had no reason to object. All of this was natural progression, like water flowing into channels and fruit ripening on the vine—utterly natural matters.
The night deepened, and the wind turned cool. Chen An stood up, bent down, placed one hand under Cheng Lele’s head and the other under her thighs, and lifted her up horizontally. Cheng Lele’s room was on the second floor. He carried her slowly up the stairs, carefully placed her on the bed, tucked her in, scraped her nose and said “goodnight,” then lowered the mosquito net and went back downstairs.
Having figured out something that had troubled him for a long time, Chen An’s mood was exceptionally calm. He seemed to have matured instantly and began seriously planning for their future together.
On this summer night in the countryside, Chen An determined three things. First, Cheng Lele was very foolish and weak, so he had to be strong enough. Second, Cheng Lele was very silly and clingy toward him, so he couldn’t let her leave him. Third, he really liked Cheng Lele, who was foolish, silly, weak, and clingy toward him.