The place where Jing Qichu stayed was an apartment-style hotel next to the school. The bathroom was to the left of the entryway, reasonably spacious; on the right was an induction cooktop for simple cooking and a sink, with cabinets above storing dinnerware. Inside was a large open room with a double bed and a single desk, a closet built into the wall, and a small half-meter-wide balcony through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Huan’er went straight to the balcony, where the school’s affiliated hospital came into view. She pointed excitedly, “I can see my dormitory building!”

Past midnight, it was completely quiet there.

Jing Qichu put on his glasses from the desk, then walked to her side, “I always stay here when I visit, but I can never figure out which room is yours.”

Huan’er peered intently but shook her head, “I can’t tell either.”

She had never seen the dormitory from this angle; all the windows looked the same, indeed hard to distinguish.

“Well, lights go out at eleven-thirty,” Jing Qichu gazed into the distance, “When the lights go out, I just assume you’re already asleep.”

Huan’er suddenly felt a lump in her throat, touched and moved. She buried herself in his chest, suddenly understanding what he had been thinking during all those nights after traveling south from Beijing.

Perhaps, Jing Qichu’s feelings for her exceeded her own for him.

“Don’t you think,” Jing Qichu fondly ruffled her hair, “all the buildings we’ve lived in have been red?” After a brief silence, he continued, “In the future, I want to buy a red house like this, to live with you for a long, long time.”

Actually, before coming, Huan’er had something on her mind.

She wanted to solemnly tell him her decision—Qichu, I plan to pursue a doctorate, which means we’ll be apart for four or five years.

But at this moment, Chen Huan’er backed down, not because of the future, but because she felt that at such a moment, in such a perfect midnight, such a decision would be too cruel to voice.

She broke free from his embrace, saying lightly, “I’m going to shower.”

Jing Qichu watched as she crouched down and skillfully pulled out a T-shirt from his suitcase, then took off her sneakers and socks to walk barefoot to the bathroom. His thoughts drifted to some time far in the future, thirty or forty years old, he didn’t know, but the only thing he could be certain of was that he must, must keep Chen Huan’er by his side.

He knew too well he couldn’t live without her anymore.

When Huan’er came out from her shower, she met the man’s intense gaze and hurriedly jumped into bed, throwing herself under the covers, softly urging, “Go shower quickly.”

Jing Qichu smiled crookedly, pinched her cheek, and walked into the bathroom.

It was rushed, hastily applying body wash and rinsing off, though, of course, essential areas still received thorough cleaning.

Drying off with a towel, Jing Qichu thought for a moment and still put on a T-shirt and underwear.

Even though he knew, and knew Huan’er was also prepared, another first time in their lives was about to slowly unfold tonight.

Starting with kisses, tongues exploring, he pressed against her and kissed until they lost themselves. Huan’er was almost breathless, using her remaining consciousness to push him away slightly, “Do you have any dark-colored clothes? I’m worried about staining the sheets.”

Jing Qichu simply took off his white T-shirt and placed it under her, “There.”

“You…” Huan’er, made weak by the suffocating kisses, complained indistinctly, “You’re pressing against me.”

Jing Qichu propped himself up on his arms above the pillow, asking with mixed amusement and exasperation, “What else?”

“Hard.”

“Silly girl, it would be a problem if it wasn’t.” Before finishing his words, he took her ear in his mouth, soft and sweet, with the scent of rose body wash—so this was her fragrance.

He lifted her clothes, everything secret and alluring coming into view. Jing Qichu felt his body undergoing vigorous changes, like a sponge soaking in water, expanding and expanding further, the water both bait and poison, and he willingly endured the ache, sinking deeper.

At the moment of taking it in his mouth, he thought of the cotton candy he often ate as a child.

Rose-flavored cotton candy he had never tasted before, melting instantly. Initially gentle licking, he strongly restrained his sucking, using his tongue-tip to touch the shy tips of two small lotus buds. But soon the cotton candy became hard candy, the distinct change and texture making his movements unconsciously rougher, teeth gently biting down, the intense stimulation eliciting Huan’er’s faint yet continuous moans.

Jing Qichu had always been a self-taught expert.

He explored downward, fingertips traversing a patch of grass, finding an ocean in the depths of the marsh.

The stream continued to send forth sweet springs.

“Qichu, Qichu.”

Huan’er called his name, full of enchantment.

First time, actually not knowing what to do, but somehow doing it right.

Jing Qichu buried himself in her neck, asking hoarsely, “Ready?”

“Mm.” Huan’er gave her answer.

Taking the supplies just purchased from nearby, he fumbled to open the package and put it on, it was a bit tight, and for a moment an amusing thought flashed through his mind—good, it won’t fall in.

An exploration journey advanced into the depths.

Pain, heart-piercing pain, worse than bare-handed punching a sandbag, than a needle piercing a vein, than all previous pains combined. Huan’er, drenched in sweat, hooked his neck, hands tightly clenched, pain accompanied by rising and falling surges, tears bursting from her eyes.

Seemed to hear something breaking.

Jing Qichu caught her falling tears, taking the salty, bitter liquid into his mouth, stroking her head, and softly comforting her, “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

Couldn’t stop, eyes on the most beloved person, so neither could stop.

First time, this was their innocent yet joyful first time.

He kissed her forcefully, also forcefully sending himself into that wet marsh. Getting tighter, sinking deeper, each attempt to escape would bring another more powerful attraction, he saw her hands clutching the sheets, saw the beads of sweat on her forehead, saw her face furrowed yet beautiful to the extreme.

Huan’er couldn’t swim, and during holidays at the beach she always avoided the various water activities—she admitted she valued her life, after all, something rescued from death’s hands, she never dared take risks. But in such a silent deep night, she suddenly had the illusion of surfing—waves coming, fearful yet excited, finally excitement overcoming fear, she was lifted to the peak.

Completely soaked, Huan’er heard a deep roar.

Yes, almost a roar.

That feeling didn’t recede for a long time, like seeing the first rays of dawn on the horizon after pulling an all-nighter, tired, happy, worth it.

Jing Qichu kissed her forehead, and smiled, eyes bright as stars.

He said, “All your first times are mine.”

“Hmm?” Huan’er shook her head exhaustedly, “Not the first kiss.”

In her memory, that belonged to her ex-boyfriend.

No need to hide, the past was also part of life, and she could be frank about it.

“That too,” Jing Qichu said firmly, “Third year of high school, once when you were asleep.”

Never mentioned to anyone, even the person involved didn’t know.

That year, one night he was doing homework at her home, encountered a difficult problem, and remembered having a study guide at home. He wanted to say goodbye but found Huan’er had fallen asleep, long eyelashes covering her lids, breathing peacefully and serenely. He kissed her, lips to lips, face almost touching the desk, that was their first kiss, known only to the stars and moon.

Later when he went home alone to get the book, Huan’er was furiously angry, thinking he would look down on her.

Never, at least not because of you.

Couldn’t be said, so Jing Qichu never said it.

Since his father’s unexpected death, for a long time, he had doubted the possibility of eternal love. It was Chen Huan’er who saved him, unhurriedly, steadily, like extending into love through long years, finally growing deeper day by day.

He had been jealous, frustrated, and on some sleepless night had clenched his fist to punch the wall—why didn’t he tell her earlier, why did he pretend not to care when seeing her paired with others?

Fortunately, all that was passed.

Huan’er belatedly pinched his arm, “Jing Qichu!”

“Don’t fuss.” Jing Qichu pulled her into his arms, secretly smiling, “Keep fussing and I’ll discipline you.”

Huan’er behaved, her bones already fallen apart, she couldn’t bear being teased again.

After a while, she nudged the person resting beside her with closed eyes, “Did you like me very early on?”

Exhausted from a day of travel, Jing Qichu answered vaguely, “Yes, very very early.”

Huan’er continued asking, “How early is very early?”

He was too tired to help himself, unconsciously holding her tighter, “You don’t need to know.”

“Why?”

“Just… you don’t need to know…”

Jing Qichu fell asleep, and his long but fulfilling day finally ended.

“Qichu,” Huan’er raised her hand to touch his eyebrows, murmuring, “Will you blame me?”

Perhaps sacrificing “us,” but I can only choose this way, I have things I want to do.

The night was silent, time pressed pause.

She thought she wouldn’t hear an answer.

After a long time, so long that Huan’er’s eyelids were heavy and she was drifting to sleep in his embrace, she heard his response, “No. I won’t.”