◎Autumn Wind and Gentle Rain◎

Chun Zao’s bedroom windowsill had some flowers and plants. Apart from the scallions and garlic kept at home for cooking, there were only three pots that could truly be called greenery. Two were mint and rosemary, occasionally taken by Chun Chuzhen as decoration or seasoning for Western dishes. The remaining pot was the double-petaled sunflower that Yuan Ye had photographed—also from Chun Chuzhen—who would browse group-buying apps when bored and impulsively ordered this homepage-recommended “Thai import” new variety that cost only 5.8 yuan.

But once she finished unpacking and planting it, the woman became hands-off, leaving it outside her daughter’s south-facing window without care. Instead, it was Chun Zao who remembered to water it regularly and worried about its safety during long winter and summer breaks at home.

Fortunately, the sunflower’s vitality was quite tenacious. It survived the harsh winter and blazing summer, finally blooming as promised during its flowering season after the autumn equinox.

Chun Zao stared at the photo of flowers shaped like pink-glazed wine cups for quite a while.

Why would Yuan Ye notice her flowers?

Hadn’t he gone home?

Wasn’t he spending the entire holiday alone in the rental house?

There was no need to ask him about his reasons or holiday whereabouts—she understood completely.

But thinking of that night, the solitary figure of the boy under the streetlights, her heart felt like it had been stung, producing a slight stabbing pain.

The decision seemed to become easier. Chun Zao quickly selected the pink earphone case and searched the entire store for Tong Yue.

Chun Zao became absent-minded. Sitting in the exquisite milk tea shop with a beautiful drink topped with cream like a snow tower in front of her, she lost interest in taking photos.

As for Tong Yue’s intermittent chatter, it felt like another “self” was responding for her.

She couldn’t calm down at all.

She couldn’t invest herself in this afternoon that should have been relaxed, leisurely, and rarely precious.

Yuan Ye’s casual message had become like an unsolvable spell, tightly attached to her back, following her like a shadow.

She didn’t know what she was restless about, what urgency she felt, why she was so anxiously unsettled and eager to end and escape everything current.

Where did she want to go?

She endured until five o’clock, when Tong Yue had a family dinner and couldn’t eat out. The two best friends said goodbye at the subway station where they’d met, and after seeing her friend board the return train car, Chun Zao lowered her left hand that had been waving and gripped her phone, expertly going to find her train line.

Standing by the platform.

She opened QQ again, staring at Yuan Ye’s message—this message she had pretended to overlook until now.

The speeding subway stopped punctually in front of her. Passengers getting off surged out like fish roe being squeezed from an egg tube. Chun Zao instinctively stepped back half a step.

The next moment, she pulled back the canvas bag strap that was about to slip from her shoulder, turned around, and merged into the crowd.

—

Outside the subway exit was a different world—it was raining.

The autumn rain came suddenly, not fierce but dense. The rain threads wove a canopy, making the entire city seem covered with gauze.

Having made up her mind, hesitation or regret would seem redundant. Chun Zao held her breath and rushed into the rain curtain in one go.

The girl’s canvas shoes stepped on puddles in the road, creating clusters of transparent fireworks.

Chun Zao stopped panting at the FamilyMart across from the school gate, selecting some boxed milk and snacks.

While waiting for the cashier to scan and settle the bill, she looked down to edit a message for Tong Yue: “Rarely got out, suddenly don’t want to go home so early. I’m going to the bookstore for a while. If my mom calls you, just say I’m eating out with you.”

Tong Yue was used to such moments, replying “OK” and then worriedly adding: “What if she wants you to answer the phone?”

Chun Zao replied: “Just say I went to the bathroom.”

“Do you need a plastic bag?” The cashier interrupted her guilty conscience from lying.

Chun Zao looked up: “Ah, yes.”

Coming out of the convenience store again, the rain outside was intensifying. Dark clouds covered the sky, neon lights reflecting the road surface into rippling lake light. It wasn’t that she hadn’t thought of buying an umbrella, but after seeing the price, she put it back on the shelf.

After all, she was just going to take a look.

If he wasn’t there, she would leave the things in the living room and send him a comforting message, telling him this holiday wasn’t so lonely and unbearable—there was still a “friend” who cared about him.

If he were there, she would hand the things to him, pretending she was just passing by after shopping, and the items in her hands were just something she bought while strolling around in the afternoon, to thank him for the snacks he had generously given her before.

Wasn’t this foolproof?

Chun Zao stopped in front of the building entrance. Under the eaves, the rain air was slightly cold, but she was completely unaware, just lightly pursing her lips upward, then taking out tissues to dry her face and hair.

Without bangs to shield her, her wet hair was more collapsed than in the afternoon. The fluffy hem of her dress also had weight now and needed to be pulled apart by hand, or it would easily stick to her legs.

She now looked very much like Cinderella after midnight—absolutely a pitiful sight.

Perhaps even worse.

At least on her escape route, Cinderella didn’t get drenched like a wet chicken.

Without overthinking, she mentally reviewed the process: go upstairs → open the door → see Yuan Ye → hand over things → say goodbye.

Just like that, a simple five-step procedure, maybe she wouldn’t even need to enter the door.

—

Yuan Ye had been napping at his desk. The autumn wind and gentle rain outside poured in unscrupulously through the screen window holes.

The curtains billowed, disturbing the sleeping boy. He lifted his eyelids to find that the test paper in front of him had been spotted with irregular lead-gray water stains from raindrops, and the character “Ye” after his name in the name field had also blurred into a mess.

Startled, he quickly stood up from his chair.

The sky outside was completely dark, like rice paper soaked with ink. Just as he was about to close the two window panels back to their original position, Yuan Ye pushed them back out and leaned out to look at the right windowsill.

The small cluster of flowers and leaves in the terracotta pot trembled, covered with water droplets, but hadn’t been torn apart by the wind.

Only then did he insert the metal window latch. The room became stuffy and quiet again, like every awakening day after the holidays.

He turned back to organize the somewhat messy handouts on the desk.

Suddenly, the sound of a creaking iron gate came from outside.

His room was closest to the door, so this sound was clearer to him.

Yuan Ye paused, frowning, and walked alertly to the door to investigate.

The next second, the boy’s eyes widened in shock.

The rust-stained door panel was like a half-hidden ancient page, and the princess from the story emerged.

In the dim light, she looked dewy fresh—eyes like gems, hair like silk, skin like clean snow.

As if his throat was being squeezed.

The boy’s Adam’s apple moved with effort. It was his turn to speak, but he couldn’t manage it. It was so difficult.

If gazes could speak, it would be frantically jumping bytes, like a completely scrambled programming interface on a computer screen.

Chun Zao looked at the tall, thin boy half-hidden in the doorframe. After a surprise, his expression became somewhat inscrutable, and he didn’t seem prepared to speak first either.

Was her sudden visit too presumptuous, or did she look somewhat frightening? Indeed, looking around, the living room lights weren’t on, her light-colored dress had quite a ghostly atmosphere, plus this dark background environment of wind and rain.

“Ah… you’re here.” She pushed the door completely open and spoke dryly.

Only then did Yuan Ye come to his senses, responding with a low “mm.”

He pressed the living room overhead light switch on the wall. The slightly damp girl in a dress was completely visible before him, more vividly colored than usual, and completely exposed…

He looked away somewhat uncomfortably: “Why did you come over?”

He asked casually.

But began cursing himself in his heart. He admitted he was somewhat base, deliberately seeking her attention and sympathy—that was his instinctive way of dealing with people, ingrained over the years. He knew his advantages inside and out, and clearly understood how to capture others’ goodwill in the fastest, most unobtrusive way. He also admitted that he had used that pot of flowers, that photo, as bait to talk with her, chat a few sentences, to nourish and pass this barren afternoon.

But he never expected she would come in person.

And encounter this damned weather.

Chun Zao carefully observed him. She felt Yuan Ye seemed uncomfortable, like the currently gloomy, surging sky.

She must have disturbed him.

She already wanted to turn around and run.

But the heavy responsibility weighing on her heart still had to be completed, or she might not be able to sleep all night after returning:

“I saw your message, just this afternoon while shopping, couldn’t reply in time.” The girl rubbed her shoe soles on the doormat a few times while reciting her prepared speech.

Then she quickly walked a few steps to deliver the bag in her hands to the dining table.

“But I bought these at the FamilyMart next to Jiuli Building, and on my way back, I thought of bringing them to you, since you bought me snacks before too.” She emphasized that “conveniently,” stepped back to the entrance, and naturally brushed her wet black hair.

“Didn’t expect it to rain…”

“So I didn’t bring an umbrella.”

Yuan Ye inhaled slightly, walked back to his bedroom without a word, took out a large towel from the wardrobe, came out, and handed it to her: “Dry off a bit.”

Chun Zao took it, squeezed her hair ends dry, then raised it above her head to gently scrub.

Yuan Ye noticed she hadn’t changed shoes.

“Are you leaving right now?” he asked.

The girl looked up from under the soft towel: “Mm, just dropping something off on my way.”

On her way, conveniently—what other synonyms could she deploy? If she stayed much longer, she probably wouldn’t be able to think of any more.

Yuan Ye glanced sideways at the kitchen window where water traces continued endlessly: “How about—”

He hesitated, unsure if such an invitation was appropriate, but still said: “Wait until the rain gets lighter before leaving.”

Chun Zao followed his gaze: “Oh, alright.”

In the three-bedroom, one-living-room layout, there were so many places to choose from, but entering anyone’s bedroom seemed inappropriate.

The most private spaces naturally required avoiding suspicion.

Chun Zao sat by the dining table, helplessly repeating the hair-drying motion.

She felt like her entire head was about to be worn flat.

The boy, however, naturally picked out the Meiji paper-boxed milk from the plastic bag, put it in the microwave for forty seconds, then took it back out and skillfully opened it at the table across from her.

His slender fingers pulled open the paper wings on both sides, then pressed upward along the slope, taking the opportunity to squeeze open the small opening.

When he applied slight force, all the blue veins rose like mountain ranges on his pale hand backs.

This was the first time Chun Zao had seen someone so good at opening this type of paper milk box.

Perfect cure for OCD.

Yuan Ye inserted a straw and placed the milk box in front of her. “Cold?” he asked softly.

Chun Zao folded the towel onto her lap: “Not cold.”

He looked her over.

From his higher position, the girl’s small, round shoulders—the wet fabric clearly outlined her bra straps, with skin stretched below faintly visible.

His gaze almost frantically flashed to her forehead.

…Even asking “Do you want to change clothes?” was so difficult.

Finally, he said restrainedly, “You should still drink some.”

Chun Zao looked up.

The boy was naturally tall, plus she was sitting now, the suddenly increased height difference brought natural oppression.

So even though his expression was calm, it unexpectedly gave a sense of irrefutable command.

Chun Zao gripped the milk box with both hands and took a sip.

Yuan Ye sat down diagonally across from her.

For a moment, no words.

Rain beans beat urgently against the window glass, coming from all directions, making the entire space tremble.

The same went for herself—her body was the house, her heartbeat the raindrops.

Chun Zao took out her phone from the canvas bag on the table, pressed it open for a glance—6:30, she should take a taxi back later.

She began restlessly playing with her phone, sipping milk, unconsciously drinking it empty, the milk box inadvertently making the slurping sound of liquid hitting the bottom.

The boy, also looking at his phone, glanced up at her.

When he lowered his eyes again, the corners of his mouth curved up in a smile, unconcealed, completely uncaring if she saw.

Chun Zao’s face began heating up. She pinched the now-useless straw tip, spinning it back and forth in the small hole, sliding it up and down.

She had no choice but to make small talk: “Have you… Finished your homework?”

The boy suddenly chuckled, so low it was barely audible.

What was so funny? she grumbled internally, the heat also conducting to her ear tips.

Yuan Ye put down his phone, straightened up, and looked directly at her: “No.”

“What about you?” he asked.

“I finished. I finished yesterday.” After saying this, she felt the sentence inexplicably carried a very elementary school arrogance and pride, but she didn’t mean it that way.

The boy laughed again: “Oh. Impressive.”

Save her—Chun Zao secretly held her head and beat the ground. She couldn’t act naturally around him at all, constrained and nervous, treating everything as a potential threat. Even when he didn’t speak or look at her, his breathing became invisible ropes binding her here, making her lose the ability to stretch and move.

Better find something to do, don’t stay in the same space.

Chun Zao kept her head slightly lowered, eyes moving left and right, finally tugging at her still-damp hair ends, looking at Yuan Ye again: “Hey.”

After just speaking, the boy seemed not to have picked up his phone again.

“Mm?”

Her interjection was supported by his interjection. In the slightly vacuum environment, the signals successfully connected.

He seemed to have been waiting for her there with clear eyes for a long time.

Waiting for her to fall into the lake center, sink, keep sinking, drown inside, unable to reach solid ground.

Her bluffing tone instantly became flustered and small: “Can I… use the hair dryer?”

The boy probably hadn’t expected her to ask this, seeming somewhat surprised. His thick black lashes fluttered twice before he responded, “Okay,” then raised his eyebrows slightly: “But the hair dryer seems to be yours, so please go ahead?”