◎ An intense and torrential kiss ◎

That wasn’t her being deliberately coy or playing at sweetness for someone else’s benefit.

The truth was that since they’d moved in together, Lu Rangchen had been the one taking care of her in most things.

The new place was far larger than the old one, and the housework had multiplied accordingly. Lu Rangchen didn’t want her exerting herself, so he hired a hourly cleaner — and wherever the cleaner didn’t do a thorough enough job, he handled it himself.

Meals were the same.

Yunque rarely cooked. Most of the time it was Lu Rangchen in the kitchen, or he’d take her out to eat.

Good food paired with good company — Yunque’s weight had been steadily climbing those days.

And then there was work.

The new home was very far from the school.

Lu Rangchen didn’t want her crammed onto the subway. Even when he came home late, he’d wake up early the next morning to drive her in, and when her shift ended, he’d come personally to pick her up.

Word spread around the school after several such trips. People said the gorgeous teacher who taught the second-year seniors had done a flash marriage — her partner appeared to be someone quite wealthy.

He never got out of the car, never showed his face directly, but his whole bearing was unmistakably that of a young man of money and elegance.

The rumor spread on its own, and the handful of male teachers who had previously been angling for Yunque’s attention quietly abandoned all hope. Many came around to ask — what did Yunque’s partner actually look like? Did she have a photo?

With Yunque’s reserved, tight-lipped personality, there was never any hope of her indulging that.

From start to finish she said nothing at all, as though she weren’t the subject of any of this — utterly unruffled, magnificently unbothered.

The culprit, as it turned out, was Deng Jiao, who had apparently filmed a short clip of the two of them without anyone noticing and posted it to the class group chat to show off.

My godbrother is so handsome!!

Doesn’t he match perfectly with my sister-in-law!!

Of course, not a word of all that bragging came with a direct shot of his face.

She hadn’t dared film his face.

She’d only caught a brief clip of their backs from a gathering meal.

In the clip, Yunque seemed to have a stiff neck — she was tilting her head slightly, pressing at her own shoulder. Lu Rangchen caught it from the corner of his eye and immediately set down his glass, raising a hand to knead at the spot for her.

A long, fair hand. The lines of it clean and elegant as the ribs of an umbrella.

Deng Jiao had just come back from the bathroom and walked right into that moment.

Whether it was the sweetness of it or something else, her mouth had dropped open into a perfect O, and she’d immediately captured the scene.

Less than two or three seconds of footage.

And yet it had caught, precisely, the look Lu Rangchen turned on Yunque — full of indulgence and deep, unhurried devotion.

The lazy curve at the corner of his mouth. The way, the instant he saw her frown, he’d leaned in attentively at once, asking her what was wrong, eyes holding no one but her.

From that angle, the shot had also captured just how striking Lu Rangchen’s profile was.

A high, perfectly shaped nose.

A jawline clean and precise, the bone structure sculpted to an almost breathtaking degree of refinement.

The moment the clip went up, the class group exploded.

The students of Class Three, Second Year were all screaming — he’s too handsome, oh my god — saying he and Yunque were such a perfect match, begging Deng Jiao to post more.

Deng Jiao wanted to post more too.

The trouble was, these two never crossed paths in front of her.

But who could have guessed — on the very first day of her summer visit, she’d walked straight into something significant.

If she hadn’t been holding a bowl of yogurt in both hands with no way to put it down, she’d have whipped out her phone and photographed them on the spot.

But it was precisely that impulse that made her realize — oh, these two are torturing innocent bystanders again. And not only that, Lu Rangchen had even “kicked her out.”

The realization hit, and Deng Jiao’s eyes went wide with indignation. “Lu Rangchen, how could you — you completely abandon everyone else the moment you have a girlfriend!!”

Then she turned to Yunque with a woeful look, “Teacher, I’m not blaming you — I just really don’t want to go back to my brother’s corner shop.”

A rare display of vulnerability, charmingly impish.

Lu Rangchen made a noncommittal sound, the look in his eyes carrying a perfectly undisguised contempt. A quiet, dismissive breath escaped him.

Of course she didn’t want to go back.

Where else could possibly compare to the cozy little nest he’d personally built for his Yunque?

And yet, “this little bird” was completely oblivious to any of it.

Yunque, in a rare show of protectiveness, turned to Lu Rangchen. “With Deng Jiao here she’ll actually do her exercises. That’s better than staying at Deng Zhe’s playing games all day.”

Deng Jiao nodded frantically, bobbing like a little chick pecking at grain.

Lu Rangchen let his heavy-lidded gaze drift toward Yunque with an air of exaggerated gravity, stifling a laugh that contained a clear “you’re completely hopeless at reading the room.”

Fine, he thought.

The honeymoon phase wasn’t even over and the light bulb was already shining bright without so much as being switched on.

Still unwilling to let it go that easily, he turned and deliberately put the fear of god into Deng Jiao. “Go upstairs and finish a full practice set first. I’ll consider whether to let you stay after.”

“……”

Deng Jiao felt the sky collapse.

She let out a howl of anguish. “Help!! Cruelty to children!! I just finished memorizing vocabulary, I was just getting a break!!”

She’d turned the quiet space into a cacophony of noise.

Yunque couldn’t hold back a soft laugh. “Alright, he’s just trying to scare you.”

Then she looked toward Lu Rangchen, with a tone that carried the gentle reproach unique to lovers. “And you — is frightening her that amusing?”

For some reason, in that moment, Yunque gave Lu Rangchen an indescribable feeling of warmth.

He let his expression settle into a lazy ease, and suddenly felt a deeply contented kind of wistfulness.

All these years, every teacher he’d encountered had treated him like something precious. Yet here was a “teacher” who lectured him — and he took it willingly, even gladly.

An arch of mischief at the brow.

Lu Rangchen made a deliberate, teasing sound of agreement. “The Teacher is absolutely right.”

Said with mock gravity, perfectly playful — yet the adoration in his eyes couldn’t lie. It was so full it was nearly spilling over.

Yunque’s lips parted slightly.

Her heartbeat quickened a little under the provocation of his gaze.

She knew exactly what he’d meant just now.

Several days apart, finally home for one visit, and not even a private moment together — who could possibly be content with that?

But some things weren’t easy to say in front of a child.

Yunque could only school herself into calm composure. “Let Deng Jiao watch some television downstairs. Come upstairs with me for a moment.”

The tips of her ears went a subtle, fleeting shade of red.

“The washing machine seems to be broken.”

Light as a feather, the words drifted down. Lu Rangchen’s lips curved, reading the private language that belonged only to the two of them — and unable to help but admire her ability to keep a perfectly straight face while lying.

A washing machine they’d bought three days ago for over ten thousand yuan. Broken, just like that.

But what could he do.

She said something, and it became true.

So that afternoon, Lu Rangchen did not send Deng Jiao away after all.

He paid no mind to how long she sat downstairs watching cartoons — just took Yunque upstairs and pressed her against the washing machine in the laundry room, and kissed her: intensely, torrentially.

The machine churned diligently through their clothes.

The rolling, thunderous sound of it was no small thing — like an unstoppable tide of spring, swallowing the soft, surging sounds of their kiss, and the desperate, intertwining need to press deeper still.

Until an annoying ring sounded from downstairs.

Deng Jiao’s exaggerated anime ringtone, as loud and chaotic as she herself was.

It was probably a call from someone at the club — unable to reach Yunque or Lu Rangchen, they’d had no choice but to call Deng Jiao.

Deng Jiao’s voice carried volume enough to travel to the upper floor. Even with her breath coming uneven and her pulse in disarray, Yunque could still hear the girl calling up to them from below — saying Deng Zhe wanted to know what time dinner was, and whether they needed to pick up any more ingredients.

That voice.

Like a bird cry shattering the quiet of a tender moment.

Yunque pulled back from Lu Rangchen’s advance in an instant, rested her forehead against his shoulder, steadied her breath, then called back evenly: “No need — nothing needed at all —”

Good. Her voice came out sounding perfectly normal.

Deng Jiao caught nothing amiss, cheerfully said alright, and obediently stayed downstairs.

Did not come up.

Yunque finally let out a breath of relief.

Lu Rangchen, on the other hand, remained exactly as indolent and unhurried as ever — not the slightest bit worried about being caught, his lack of shame perfectly evident.

He gave a low, amused sound, swept the loose strands of hair from her face, then dropped his mouth to the corner of her lips, kissed her lightly, and said: “What’s there to be afraid of — it’s not like we’re doing this in someone else’s home.”

From behind the bathroom door, the floor was a picture of disarray. Lu Rangchen hooked her behind the knees, laughing against her ear with a rogue’s ease: “What do you mean nothing needed — we’re completely out of the essentials.”

He’d used the last of them before he left, and Yunque would sooner die than restock.

Her ears were already so red it was impossible to tell whether it was from his teeth or his words.

But Yunque still refused to give an inch.

As though she’d been born to butt heads with him — she held his gaze directly, and said: “Then don’t use any.”

That small face, normally as pale and soft as set cream.

But right now it was flushed like a ripe, honeyed peach.

Tempting enough to reach the marrow.

Lu Rangchen was genuinely, helplessly laughing at her now. “Yunque,” he said, “I really have never met anyone like you.”

He’d developed this habit recently — he had no idea when it started — of inventing endless little nicknames for her.

“Little sparrow” was one of them.

Not particularly elegant, not particularly clever. And yet Yunque liked it in a way she couldn’t explain or defend.

It was the kind of liking that had no clear reason.

She liked the indulgence in his voice when he called her that. She liked the soft, unguarded warmth that rose in her when she heard it — so unlike her usual composed self.

She didn’t have to manage everything perfectly.

Didn’t have to hold herself back or be considerate of everyone.

It was a side of herself that only came out when someone truly loved you.

A feeling she’d never known before.

One that only appeared when she was with Lu Rangchen.

And yet Lu Rangchen tilted her chin upward with his fingers, tracing her lips as he kissed her, and scolded her softly: “What good does that do, when I’ll only feel terrible watching you take those pills afterward?”

“……”

Yunque bit lightly at his lip in response.

Obedient, but not quite surrendering.

Internally she thought: she’d only done that once. Was he being that dramatic about it?

But Lu Rangchen, as was his way, was determined to be stubborn about it. In the end he refused to let her go to the supermarket alone — tidied himself up, changed his clothes, and went downstairs with her.

Deng Jiao was still eating chips when they came down. She looked up and asked where they were going.

Yunque said the supermarket — needed to pick up a few things.

Deng Jiao immediately raised her hand. “Me too, me too — I want to come, I’m so bored at home.”

“……”

Before Yunque could even respond:

Lu Rangchen clicked his tongue. “Everywhere we go, there you are. If you’re bored, go upstairs and do your exercises.”

Those words carried real authority.

Deng Jiao deflated completely, and went back to watching her “cartoons” without another peep.

And yet — because the universe apparently had a sense of humor —

This pair was just that much.

That little remark made Yunque suddenly remember: Deng Jiao’s break time had been over for a while now.

After all, the two of them had spent quite some time in the laundry room, and Yunque had even showered afterward.

It was probably just occupational habit kicking in.

Yunque thought about how poor Deng Jiao’s grades genuinely were, and so before they left, she sent the girl back upstairs to study after all.

Deng Jiao went with the energy of someone being marched to the gallows.

She wanted to resist. She couldn’t. So she went quietly, alone into the study.

And she had to admit — this study was spectacularly done.

There was even a dedicated tatami platform — perfect for lying down when studying got exhausting.

But clearly, this was not her territory. Everything about it was fragrant and soft, visibly marked by Yunque’s presence.

She had no interest in sitting obediently at the desk, though.

So she wandered aimlessly around the study.

Back and forth, back and forth — until Deng Jiao’s eye happened to land on a small tin box sitting in one of the bookshelf compartments.

It looked like it had once held butter cookies. Had the worn look of something with some years on it — sitting there half-open.

Deng Jiao didn’t think of it as something particularly private, so she reached out and opened it.

Inside was a soft-covered diary. Thick, with the look of something with history.

Beside the diary sat what appeared to be a delicate and expensive jewelry box, and a small, broken bear keychain.

Deng Jiao stared for a moment.

For some inexplicable reason, an intense curiosity seized her.

And as was always the case with her — her hands moved faster than her head. Before she’d even decided whether to open it, her fingers had already picked up the diary and turned a page.

The moment she opened it, a hundred-yuan bill fell out.

The first page, held by that bill, bore several lines of neat, graceful handwriting:

September 13th, 2013. Sunny.

I saw him.

A surprise, outside of the supermarket.

I hadn’t imagined it would be like that — a mop, and probably me looking terrible too, my glasses not properly wiped clean.

But he was still so beautiful. Fresh and clean, like burning sunlight — like sunlight so bright it turns the whole world into color.

It’s hard to admit.

But I don’t want to lie to myself.

I like him.

As naturally as a kite likes the wind.

Author’s note: Whose diary it is — obvious enough, I’d think. I wrote it with a bit of that youthful, dramatic intensity on purpose — the kind of girl who looks like a quiet, obedient student on the surface, but privately has all these trembling, quietly damp, very teenage feelings inside. All those secret little feelings — every last one delivered to Lu Rangchen, now that they’re newlyweds.