The boy’s lips were soft and warm. It lasted only an instant, yet seemed to stretch on endlessly. The spot that had been touched felt like it was on fire — scorching, burning.
Lin Tao tilted her head back. Her gaze traveled upward — past the boy’s sharp-angled throat and the slightly taut line of his jaw.
Clean, defined features. Long lashes pressed lightly down, concealing what lay in his eyes.
Before she could even react, the boy had already grasped her shoulder, applied a slight pressure, and carefully pulled the two of them — who had been breathlessly close — just a small distance apart.
Jiang Yan quickly released her, lifted his gaze to the boys standing before him, expression flat, voice stripped of its previous low, unhurried quality — cool and detached, his air one of effortless authority. “Apologize.”
“It was obviously her—” The boy holding the basketball started to argue back, but the tall boy standing beside him grabbed his arm and leaned over to say something.
Lin Tao watched as a clear shift came over the basketball boy’s expression — and the way he looked at Jiang Yan took on a new, unreadable quality.
Then, in just a few seconds, the boy let go of his earlier impatience and reluctance, turned his gaze to Lin Tao standing beside Jiang Yan, dropped his head, and said in a somewhat dejected tone: “Sorry.”
Without waiting for Lin Tao’s response, he was dragged away by his friends.
As they headed down the stairs, the boy broke the silence again, his voice carrying a distinct air of someone who’d just survived something: “Holy— That was actually Jiang Yan, wasn’t it? Did you guys see that look he gave me? I felt like he was going to eat me alive.”
His friend swiped the basketball from him and balanced it spinning on a fingertip, mocking him: “You almost knocked over his girlfriend. He didn’t beat you up right there — consider yourself lucky.”
“Come on, it wasn’t my fault — she’s the one not walking properly, not paying attention when she saw people.” The boy paused, then something hit him. “Wait — the great one has a girlfriend?! Isn’t he the school overlord? Overlords are usually into that whole ‘destined to be alone, cold personality’ image, aren’t they?”
His friend considered this seriously for a moment and said with a straight face: “Maybe our school overlord just prefers the ‘in a relationship’ image.”
“…”
The corridor was empty now. Lin Tao turned to glance at the person standing beside her.
The boy stood in the dusk, the last light of evening tracing the outline of his figure with a halo, his features steeped in this play of light and shadow — no trace of the softness you might have expected. His expression remained cool and distant.
Lin Tao looked at him, a note of testing in her voice. “Actually, you can’t really blame those guys — I was the one walking backward without paying attention.”
“And besides, I didn’t actually fall — you caught me in the end—”
Her words caught there.
You didn’t just catch me.
You also kissed me.
The image from moments ago kept replaying on its own in Lin Tao’s mind. Though she hadn’t seen the moment of contact with her own eyes—
Right now—
Lin Tao’s gaze, still resting on the boy’s face, moved down of its own accord, involuntarily, until it stopped on the beautifully curved arc of his lips.
The sensation that had already faded seemed to return again to her senses.
Warm.
Soft.
A touch.
…
The heart that had suddenly sped up left Lin Tao speechless for a moment. The fingers hanging at her side curled slightly, and without her noticing, a thin layer of sweat had gathered in her palm.
Jiang Yan had been waiting to hear what she would say next. The sudden silence made him look up involuntarily at the person standing in front of him.
The girl’s expression was something he couldn’t quite name. Her usually fair face was now faintly flushed, her unadorned almond-shaped eyes clear and expressive, carrying a quality entirely their own in the evening light.
The irritation those boys had stirred up in him vanished in an instant.
Jiang Yan found himself unsettled — looked away quickly, and after a few seconds, when he spoke again his voice had returned to its usual register, low and warm with a quiet, magnetic quality. “Hmm? Why’d you stop?”
Lin Tao looked up and met his gaze, let out a slightly flustered sound, her arms swinging with a certain awkwardness. “Nothing, I just wanted to say — I didn’t really fall, so you don’t have to be so angry.”
“…I’m not angry.” Jiang Yan’s eyes were low, his inner corners tilted slightly, the outer corners rising gently — he was quiet for a few seconds before he spoke. “Walk properly from now on.”
Lin Tao was a little peeved and pushed back: “I was following Old Yu’s instructions, keeping my eyes on you.”
Is that my fault?
Weren’t you the one who told me to watch you?
If you’re going to shift the blame like that, I’m not going to be very happy about it.
“Since when do you listen to Old Yu so readily?”
“Because Old Yu is the teacher, and I always listen to what my teachers say.” Lin Tao looked at him as she said this.
“Is that so.” Jiang Yan stared at her for a few seconds, eyes softening, lashes long and dark as raven wings, dense and slightly curling. A lovely curve appeared at the corner of his lips — and then, all at once, he leaned forward, bowing his back, tilting his head down close to her face.
His voice came out slow and drawn, with a small hook at the end.
“Then do you listen to what your deskmate says?”
Every sharp, bright feature of the boy was fully exposed in Lin Tao’s field of vision. That cool, crisp scent that belonged only to him washed over her in waves.
Lin Tao went rigid. Every limb felt like it had been shocked through, all soft and buzzing, completely uncontrollable. Her heart was beating even faster than before.
The boy maintained his bent-forward, head-lowered position, persistent and unhurried. “Do you? Or don’t you?”
His naturally low voice was being pressed down further, deliberately, drawing out the magnetic quality hiding in its timbre — playing on repeat in Lin Tao’s ears, again and again.
Lin Tao felt she might very well, in the next second, faint from her heart beating too fast.
The twilight corridor. The nearness between them. The boy whose eyes carried a smile.
Each of these moments.
Was seeping into Lin Tao’s soul, one drop at a time.
“…I do.”
She answered without being able to stop herself.
The boy got the answer he wanted, and suddenly dipped his gaze and laughed softly — the outer corner of his eye curving up into a small hook, his low warm laughter settling against her ear like something warm pressed right against it. Her ear felt like it had caught some warmth and slowly began to heat.
Lin Tao looked into the boy’s amber-and-glass eyes, and suddenly had the distinct feeling that the direction things were developing was a little off.
Yet strangely, she didn’t feel the slightest resistance — in fact, she was almost… enjoying it.
This is very strange.
She thought.
The big cleaning session hadn’t yet begun. The classroom, just freshly out of exams, was buzzing — the already unusually relaxed mood from before the exams had now given way to something even more lively and animated.
Old Yu stood at the classroom door with his tea mug, looking at the students roughhousing around inside with a benevolent expression, not finding anything wrong with it whatsoever.
Fifteen or sixteen — they were supposed to be carefree and noisy like this. This was what youth should look like.
Old Yu stood at the door for about ten minutes before he spotted two habitual exam-skippers coming up from the stairwell. Back this late — clearly they hadn’t submitted early. Good children.
Thinking this, Old Yu’s smile deepened. He looked at the two kids who had walked up to him and said, with genuine feeling: “Jiang Yan, Lin Tao — you both worked hard these past few days.”
“…”
“………”
Old Yu didn’t notice the twin expressions of please just let us through, we’re exhausted, and went on: “How do you feel you did? Were the questions hard? Was there anything you couldn’t answer?”
“Pretty fine, not that hard, nothing.” Lin Tao got her answer out before Jiang Yan could. “Though for the ones I couldn’t do, I just copied the question back out onto the paper.”
“…”
“…”
Old Yu genuinely hadn’t expected this — a child he considered a solid, earnest student had apparently gone to these lengths for the exam. The paper must really have been too difficult.
Not wanting to dampen an enthusiastic student’s motivation, he even actively praised her: “Good thinking — when you hit a question you can’t solve, that’s exactly what to do. Even if you can’t write the answer, fill the space completely. If the marker isn’t paying close attention, you might still pick up a mark or two.”
“…”
Old Yu launched into another extended speech, and in the end it was Jiang Yan who cut in: “Mr. Yu, we’ve been sitting exams for two days — we’re tired. We’d like to go back to our seats and rest.”
Old Yu looked surprised. “Then go — I’ll keep chatting with your deskmate.”
Lin Tao was the first to object, blinking and putting on a convincingly sleepy yawn. “Mr. Yu, I’m tired too…”
Old Yu clearly still had more to say, but seeing the two of them with their undeniable faces of exhaustion and absolutely-not-listening-to-any-more-of-this, he said with some reluctance: “We’ll pick this up another time, then.”
Lin Tao, already halfway through the classroom door, nearly tripped over her own feet at those words.
Another time?
She didn’t want to have this conversation even half a time.
All the desks in the classroom had already been moved back into their original positions by the students who’d returned earlier. Lin Tao and Jiang Yan filed back to their seats one after the other.
The moment Jiang Yan sat down, he pulled out his phone and started playing a game.
Behind them, Hu Hanghang, Xu Yichuan, and Song Yuan were crammed together in a row. Seeing the two of them return, Hu Hanghang patted Lin Tao on the shoulder first. “Tao-mei, what are your plans for the holiday?”
Lin Tao thought about it. Going by the usual pattern of National Day long holidays in past years, most likely: “I’ll probably just stay home.”
“…”
Xu Yichuan was appalled at this holiday-wasting approach. “Do you think you’re being fair to the ancestors who bled and sweated to win us this seven-day National Day holiday?”
Lin Tao stared blankly, unable to untangle that long breathless sentence for a solid ten seconds or so. She took a deep breath and, in Xu Yichuan’s own style, rattled off: “And how do you lot spend it to be fair to the ancestors who bled and sweated to win us this seven-day National Day holiday?”
Hu Hanghang began counting on his fingers. “Can’t remember the years before, so let’s do last year. Day one — the Motherland’s birthday, that one can slide.”
“Day two — a bunch of us went to Yan-ge’s internet café for the whole day. Then we went to the internet café on the next street for a whole day. Along the way the police showed up checking for unlicensed internet cafés and we all got hauled in and sat there for half a day…”
Hu Hanghang counted to his seventh finger. “Last day — we went back to Yan-ge’s internet café. Full circle.”
“…”
After Hu Hanghang finished, all four of them went quiet. A few seconds passed, and then someone — maybe Xu Yichuan, maybe Song Yuan who hadn’t said a word until now — started laughing first. Laughter followed in waves, and then Lin Tao looked over and saw her deskmate, head lowered, shoulders shaking silently, laughing too.
Lin Tao had initially expected some story about spending six days touring scenic spots across the country to appreciate the vast and magnificent homeland — instead, it was a six-day internet café tour of Xixi City with a complimentary half-day police station visit.
At that thought, she finally couldn’t hold it in anymore either, laughing openly, the corners of her almond eyes curved up.
Hu Hanghang.
Honestly remarkable.
After everyone finished laughing together, Hu Hanghang still didn’t seem to see anything wrong with any of it. He propped his chin up and began planning this year’s itinerary. “I don’t want to spend it like that this year. Should we go somewhere? Go to Haicheng and see the ocean — what do you think?”
“I’ve never properly been to the sea in my life.”
That idea quickly got enthusiastic support from everyone except Jiang Yan and Lin Tao. Jiang Yan just stayed quiet. Lin Tao wasn’t sure whether her parents had any other plans.
Hu Hanghang immediately gave up on Jiang Yan. “Tao-mei, come with us — you have that friend, right? Bring her along. We’ll make it a spontaneous Haicheng trip, all of us together.”
Lin Tao didn’t say yes right away. “I’m not sure yet if I have plans — let me check when I get home tonight and I’ll message you guys.”
“Alright, let’s leave it at that for now.”
They’d barely settled on the trip when Old Yu noticed the classroom had filled up and asked the hygiene committee member to coordinate the big cleaning session.
The hygiene committee member Li Jiang had already organized everyone’s assignments. He now ran through the breakdown: “Group one — wipe the windows. Group two — sweep the floors. Group three — mop. Group four — handle the trash and assist group one with changing their water and passing supplies.”
With the assignments clear, everyone sprang into action.
Old Yu stood at the classroom door, never missing an opportunity to offer some running commentary: “The state of a classroom’s hygiene represents the character of the whole class — everyone put in the effort.”
“Hu Hanghang, don’t scrub the glass that hard! — You, you, you, the one in the back there — don’t go wandering around with the broom, you’re spreading dust everywhere.”
“Wang Yuyang, does the floor owe you something? You don’t have to look so ferocious while mopping.”
“The trash bins are plastic. Your relationships with your classmates are not. Solidarity and teamwork, everyone, let’s do this properly.”
“…”
“Hahahahaha!”
Someone in the classroom started laughing, and then one by one everyone followed suit. Old Yu stood at the door, and whatever it was that crossed his mind, he started laughing too.
Evening, and the last of the sunset fell through the windows.
Spotless glass in a brightened classroom. Desks still in disarray. The blackboard with its serious exam-conduct slogans. A boy standing by the window. Classmates chasing each other with brooms. Someone lugging a trash bin full of plastic friendship.
Everyone bathed in that warm light. Everyone’s eyes holding their own small glow.
Lin Tao stood at the back of the classroom, an untouched clean cloth she’d just gotten from Li Jiang still in her hand, laughing along with everyone else — couldn’t stop at all.
She laughed until her eyes curved. The moment she turned her head, she saw the boy standing to the side.
He was wrapped in the evening dusk, his white T-shirt hanging loose, a hint of collarbone visible, the line of it clean and easy, his skin pale — almost unreal in the light.
Deep eyes. The outer corners tilted upward, inner corners angled slightly. His features softened in the play of dusk light, the warmth of it caught in every line of his brow and eye.
Lin Tao looked at him, and on a sudden impulse — thinking of Hu Hanghang’s question that had never actually been directed at him — asked out of nowhere: “Are you going to Haicheng?”
“…Hm?”
Lin Tao leaned against the desk behind her, meeting his gaze, repeating the question. “Will you go to Haicheng with Hu Hanghang and the others?”
The boy’s eyes softened, the slight upward tilt of his outer corners settling back down, something like firelit glass shimmering in their depths. His voice drifted, half-swallowed by the wind. “Are you going?”
“Hm?”
Lin Tao looked up, bewildered, not yet having answered, when she heard him add in a low, quiet murmur —
“If you go, I’ll go.”
(Author’s note: — Ahhhhhh Jiang Yan, wake up!!! This is the person who wouldn’t even let you copy her exam paper!!! Wake up!! — Yan-ge: no — Yan-ge: everyone step aside, it’s time to flirt. hehe)