◎Door◎

Angel.

This was Chun Zao’s latest definition of Yuan Ye. How could any mother bear to cut off contact with such a perfect and flawless child? If it were her, she would fuss over him daily with caring inquiries and endless praise.

On second thought, was it possible that… witnessing Ms. Chun’s meticulous care for herself every day was also causing invisible harm to Yuan Ye?

Better to have Mom invite Yuan Ye to join them for meals more often in the future.

The pizza feast atmosphere from a couple of days ago was quite nice.

The excuse wouldn’t be hard to fabricate either—claiming Yuan Ye was helping her with math tutoring, with shared meals as grateful reciprocation.

During break time, Chun Zao made this decision while daydreaming.

However, during the second afternoon class, Chun Chuzhen suddenly came to the school, to their classroom. When she spotted her mother appearing outside the window, Chun Zao’s eyes widened in shock.

The history teacher went out to inquire about the situation, then called Chun Zao out.

Chun Zao hurriedly left her seat.

Chun Chuzhen’s brow was furrowed with dark clouds as she pulled her rapidly down the stairs: “Your grandmother had an accident.”

Chun Zao’s mind buzzed: “What happened to her?”

Chun Chuzhen pointed to her head: “Cerebral hemorrhage. She’s still in the ICU right now. I just came from the hospital.”

Chun Zao was both confused and anxious: “Is it serious?”

“How could it not be serious? The doctor only said there’s no immediate danger to her life, and they’ve scheduled an expert for surgery tonight. I definitely won’t be back tonight.” Chun Chuzhen’s eyes were slightly red as she took out a small stack of cash from her bag and handed it to Chun Zao: “Buy your food, and remember to lock the door tonight.”

“I’ll probably be busy for a while, can’t say for sure. I called your sister, and she said she’ll come check on you when she has time these next few days.” She then produced an old red and black Nokia senior phone with a worn exterior, instructing: “Use this phone to contact me if anything happens.”

Chun Zao was surprised: “Where did this come from?”

“I took it from your grandmother’s place.”

“…”

She still had the mood to find humor in hardship.

Chun Zao received everything with both hands and comforted: “I’m fine. You focus on your matters first, I’ll take good care of myself.”

…

Chun Zao returned to class holding the money in a daze. Seeing her worried expression, Lu Xinyue wrote a small note and pushed it to her:

-What happened?

Chun Zao looked at her, shook her head, and replied:

-Just my grandmother getting sick.

Her deskmate asked a few more caring questions, which Chun Zao answered one by one, then they stopped their written communication and focused on listening to the lecture.

But Chun Zao couldn’t concentrate at all.

Grandmother was a local from Yi City, with few children—just a son and daughter. The son’s family had immigrated to Australia, while the daughter had taken a fancy to Chun Zao’s current father and settled in the same city after marriage.

The little old lady didn’t like interfering in her children’s lives. Even after her grandfather passed away, she insisted on living alone. Though they met infrequently, she still seemed quite spry and healthy during holiday visits.

Who could have imagined such a sudden emergency would occur?

After evening study hall, Chun Zao returned home with a heavy heart. This was the first time since moving here that she couldn’t see Chun Chuzhen bustling about with her nagging and figure during the school term. The rental apartment felt as desolate as a dried-up island, surprisingly uncomfortable to adapt to.

Chun Zao sat at her desk and unwrapped the European bread she’d bought from the bakery, taking small bites.

Halfway through eating, her throat felt a bit choked, so she picked up her mug to get some water.

Yuan Ye happened to return just then.

He looked at her, then surveyed the overly quiet living room, frowning: “Where’s your mom?”

Chun Zao said, “Went to the hospital.”

Yuan Ye placed his changed sneakers on the shoe rack: “She’s sick?”

Chun Zao replied: “No, it’s my grandmother.”

Yuan Ye nodded. Noticing the girl’s slightly troubled expression, he didn’t ask for more details.

As they passed each other, Yuan Ye suddenly remembered something and stopped at his bedroom door, turning back: “What about your late-night snack today?”

Chun Zao had already walked into the kitchen and was pouring water into her cup. She didn’t hear clearly and had to put down the kettle: “What?”

Yuan Ye returned to the kitchen doorway: “Asking how you’ll solve tonight’s dinner problem.”

Chun Zao muttered: “I don’t need to eat late-night snacks every day, okay?”

Yuan Ye acted as if he hadn’t heard, only glancing at the steaming cup in her hands: “Planning to solve it with water?”

Chun Zao’s face heated: “I bought bread.”

Yuan Ye’s lips curved slightly: “Oh, impressive.”

Chun Zao clenched her teeth.

Yuan Ye stopped teasing her: “What do you want to eat? I’ll order takeout for you.”

Chun Zao walked past him: “I’m on a diet.”

He followed Chun Zao, whose school uniform hung loosely on her frame: “Are you serious?”

“Stop worrying about me, go busy yourself with your things.” Chun Zao paused for a second, then continued walking toward her room.

Yuan Ye stubbornly kept at it, following closely: “How am I worrying about you?”

Chun Zao stopped at her doorway, turned around, and her gaze measured the distance between them as they stood facing each other.

Yuan Ye noticed and stepped back half a step.

Chun Zao looked at him and concluded: “More motherly than my mom.”

Yuan Ye laughed out loud, then shrugged innocently: “Just friendly concern.”

Chun Zao returned to her room, set down her water cup, and from the same paper bag took out an unopened long bread still in plastic wrapping, thrusting it toward him, almost to the point of jabbing it against the boy’s chest.

Yuan Ye remained unmoved: “What for?”

Chun Zao said, “Friendly concern.”

Yuan Ye chuckled softly and took it.

“Don’t underestimate me,” Chun Zao pretended to be stern and severe, “I’m not the type of person you imagine who has absolutely no independent living ability.”

Yuan Ye nodded cooperatively: “Mm, I was blind to Mount Tai.”

Chun Zao: “…”

“I’m going to close the door,” she said.

“Go ahead and close it.”

“You need to leave.”

“Does my leaving or not interfering with your closing?”

“…”

Chun Zao tugged at the hem of her school uniform: “It does interfere.”

Two seconds of silence.

“Don’t close it,” the boy looked over, his dark, smiling eyes arguably the world’s most irresistible: “Close it before you sleep.”

He added: “I won’t close mine either.”

“O-kay.” These two words rang like struck bells, their light syllables bouncing out cheerfully.

Watching Yuan Ye, who still hadn’t put down his backpack since entering, return to his room, Chun Zao only then bounced back to her desk in delight. Inadvertently catching sight of the round mirror at the corner of her desk reflecting her grinning self, she quickly turned her face away and pressed her lips tight. With grandmother and mom in dire straits, what did she look like, grinning foolishly here?

Returning to a solemn state in one second, she used her grandmother’s phone to text her mom, asking about her current situation.

Chun Chuzhen replied: Not bad, the doctor in the ICU said she’s still relatively conscious. Your dad came over and we’re taking turns, don’t worry.

Chun Zao said: Don’t overexert yourself either, take care of your health.

Chun Chuzhen: Mm, sleep early, lock the door properly.

Chun Zao: “…”

Staring at those last three words, she felt ashamed, and a great wave of shyness rose. Looking left, without the barrier of the door, rounding off, it was almost like… like being in the same room as Yuan Ye.

Even though she couldn’t see him or know what he was doing, that omnipresent sense of connection still permeated the air.

Before her lay two phones, one large and one small, on the book pages—quite a bizarre scene. Suddenly transforming from an electronic beggar to a tycoon felt oddly amusing. Chun Zao sighed and picked up her phone, opening QQ.

Yuan Ye in her friends list showed no activity.

Meanwhile, pinned contact Tong Yue had changed her name again, from “You Are My Eternal Scenery” to “Heavy Fog Rises, I Love You in Deserted Places.”

Chun Zao asked her curiously: Did you break up?

Tong Yue replied: No.

Chun Zao: Then what’s with this name?

Tong Yue: A low-key and handsome transfer student came to Class 10, with the character “fog” in his name. This is my new username, I changed it for him.

Chun Zao: …Does Lu Jingheng have no objections?

Tong Yue, master of ambiguity: He doesn’t know, still thinks this name is meant for him.

Chun Zao was in awe.

But… Chun Zao clicked into Yuan Ye’s profile page. What deep meaning did the X in his username hold? Or was it, as Tong Yue said, some childhood friend or first love he couldn’t have, whose name contained an X?

Chun Zao rested her face in her hands and wrote Yuan Ye’s name in pinyin on paper: Yuan Ye; then on a new line wrote her own: Chun Zao.

No matter how she speculated and imagined, she couldn’t think of any connection to X.

She was too embarrassed to ask more, or it would seem like she cared too much, minded too much, and was too nosy.

Finally, out of sight, out of mind, she added a nickname for Yuan Ye, covering his original name.

Just as she was about to exit, a message suddenly popped up in the chat:

Yuan Ye: What are you doing?

Of course, she couldn’t say she was studying his username and feeling anxious about it.

Chun Zao deliberately created a time gap for picking up her phone before replying: Reading.

She asked back: What about you?

Yuan Ye: Just finished eating “friendly concern.”

Chun Zao smiled: How did it taste?

Yuan Ye: Not bad.

Chun Zao glanced at the time on her phone: Do you need to use the bathroom now?

Yuan Ye: You go first.

Chun Zao smiled sweetly: I can give you priority usage rights today.

Yuan Ye: No need, go ahead.

Chun Zao sent a fist-pumping emoji: Rock, paper, scissors.

Yuan Ye immediately returned a scissors gesture: No chance of winning.

Chun Zao happily took her pajamas to the washroom.

After finishing her wash and coming out, Chun Zao glanced at Yuan Ye’s door and saw it still open. She secretly lifted the corners of her mouth again and returned to her desk. Soon after, Yuan Ye’s figure flashed past the doorway, followed by the sound of the shower, continuous and lingering. Chun Zao felt somewhat at a loss, so she pulled out a tissue to distract herself by playing with it, unconsciously folding it into a pristine white rabbit.

Fortunately, the boy was relatively quick, not making this delicate moment more unbearable.

At eleven-thirty, as bedtime approached, Chun Zao messaged him: Have you closed your door?

Yuan Ye: No.

Chun Zao: Aren’t you going to sleep?

Yuan Ye: Waiting for you to close yours before I close mine.

Chun Zao’s apple muscles were almost completing a handover ceremony with her eye bags: Then I’ll close it?

Yuan Ye: Good. I’ll turn off the living room lights.

Chun Zao walked to her doorway holding her phone, looked out once more, then gently and silently closed the door without locking it.

Sitting back on her bed, she commented: Your sense of ceremony is rather strange.

But he said: Haven’t you noticed?

Chun Zao: Hm?

Yuan Ye: Since I moved here, whenever you’re home alone, I never close my door.

Chun Zao thought for a moment: It does seem to be true.

She asked: Why?

Yuan Ye: What if you need to find me for something?

Chun Zao: I don’t have that many matters.

Yuan Ye: If someone living next to you always kept their door closed, would you still want to interact with them?

Chun Zao: Are you alluding to me?

Yuan Ye: No, you don’t do it on purpose.

Chun Zao: If I wanted to interact with someone, I think I would take the initiative to knock on their door.

She didn’t dare use “his,” feeling that would be too explicit, with too strong implications and suggestions. But after sending it, her face reddened again—wasn’t this just a concrete manifestation of trying to cover up the truth?

No more messages appeared in the chat box.

After a moment, two knocks from knuckles sounded on the door panel. She startled and sat up in bed, calling out loudly: “Is there something wrong—”

“No need to open it.” The boy’s voice was like wind threading through a night forest: “Just wanted to knock twice.”

Chun Zao took small steps behind the door, circling the doorknob with her hand, her heart beating chaotically. Her phone vibrated—she received his message that could only be expressed in text: Like you said.

Chun Zao exerted all her strength to restrain herself from banging on the door panel twice to vent her clamorous joy.

She stayed behind the door, ultimately letting her hand fall.

If she opened the door now, she couldn’t guarantee she wouldn’t say some impulsive words to Yuan Ye, because of her excited emotions; because of her—explosive heart-fluttering feelings for him.

Her chest rose and fell slowly once. Chun Zao replied with feigned composure: Received, please return, sleep.

Yuan Ye: OK.

Plus a cute smiling emoji.

As if emphasizing that he wasn’t annoyed by her not opening the door to face him directly.

Standing foolishly for a while, digesting this oversized sugar-coated pill, Chun Zao slowly walked back. Just as she was about to throw herself onto the bed, knocking sounds came again. She looked back in surprise: “What now?”

Still Yuan Ye’s voice: “Someone you know is here, seems to be…”

“Chun Zao—” Chun Chang’s explosive call sounded from outside, then softened: “Is she asleep?”

Yuan Ye: “Probably not.”

“…” Chun Zao immediately got up and went out to greet her sister.

After a brief meeting, Chun Chang went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face. When she returned, the sisters squeezed onto the same small bed. Chun Zao threw her back cushion to her sister as a temporary pillow. Chun Chang tested it, found it too high, pulled it away, and lay flat there silently.

Chun Zao asked: “Why did you come so late?”

“Ms. Chun was worried about you and told me eight or ten times, if not ten times. I came right after finishing overtime,” Chun Chang pillowed her arm and turned toward her sister in the darkness, blinking: “What, did I interfere with you and the little handsome guy being alone together?”

Chun Zao’s face burned as she turned her back: “What are you talking about?”

Chun Chang mimicked her tone: “What are you talking about?”

“What—” showing signs of becoming embarrassed and angry.

“What, you’re hiding it pretty well,” she pushed her sister’s slender back: “If I hadn’t made this special trip, I wouldn’t have known you’re now living with such a top-tier handsome high schooler.”

Chun Zao was speechless, supporting her body and feigning composure.

Chun Chang returned to her spread-eagled sleeping position: “What do you high schoolers eat these days to grow like this, each one so good-looking? What magical elixir—I should get some too.”

Chun Zao: “It’s too late for you.”

As expected, she received her sister’s heavy punch to the back.

Chun Zao winced and bantered with her sister for a few exchanges. The room fell quiet again. Chun Zao slowed her breathing, recalling everything from tonight, her emotions surging. Sometimes she smiled secretly, sometimes felt gloomy and sour. Finally unable to bear it, she sought help from her sister, who was rich in romantic experience: “Sis.”

“What…” Chun Chang was almost asleep, her voice scattered.

“A boy’s username is just one letter,” she carefully explained, “but it has no relation to the spelling of his actual name. Why do you think that is?”

Chun Chang yawned and said vaguely: “Simple.”

“Hm?”

“I’ll ask the guy next door for you tomorrow morning.”

“…”