◎Dark Chocolate◎

After hanging up the call, Chun Zao wanted to go directly to Yuan Ye using the WeChat address, but he refused, saying the place was still messy and chaotic, asking her to wait until the house was tidied up before coming over.

Was she really that delicate, like “frail Sister Lin Daiyu”?

Chun Zao suppressed her impatience and lay down for an afternoon nap as usual, but tossed and turned, unable to sleep at all.

The house was empty, and outside the window, dense shade swayed like slate-green waves. She simply got up, turned off the air conditioning, unplugged her charging phone, put on a sun-protective jacket, and went out.

After spending a fortune at the supermarket near the residential complex entrance on daily necessities and snacks, Chun Zao carried the large bag of items across the crosswalk to Yuan Ye’s new residential complex.

The security guard pointed out Building 6’s location. She thanked him and pulled her hat down a bit lower.

This year’s summer in Yi City came earlier than usual. It was only early June, but the air seemed saturated with sweat, thick and muggy, and so were people.

By the time she reached the bottom of Building 6, Chun Zao’s face was already flushed red from the heat. This complex had mostly mid-rise buildings. She found Yuan Ye’s unit number and pressed the doorbell twice.

Someone quickly answered from above: “Hello, who is it?”

Chun Zao deliberately pinched her nose, creating an unnatural tone: “Hello, I’m a resident of this building. I didn’t bring my hallway key, could you please help me open the door?”

She was immediately exposed.

The boy’s laughter came through the electrical building intercom, once, low and brief, refreshingly cool.

But he didn’t immediately unlock the door, only saying: “Which floor do you live on? Do you have identification? For safety reasons, I can’t just open the door randomly.”

Chun Zao paused, took a light breath, and gave Yuan Ye’s apartment number: “1006.”

“Hm?” He got into character with her: “Isn’t that my home? Who are you to 1006?”

Chun Zao clenched her fist, enunciating each word: “1—0—0—6’s girlfriend.” The last three words made her too shy to speak clearly. She said them so fast they were mumbled and unclear, as if they hadn’t passed through her vocal cords and throat but just leaked out between her tongue and teeth.

The other party: “What? I didn’t hear clearly.”

Chun Zao finally shouted angrily: “Girlfriend!”

Yuan Ye laughed lightly twice.

Click, the door lock opened.

Heh.

Chun Zao smiled coldly inside, various adjectives related to “childish” bouncing around. She entered the elevator, took off her sun jacket’s hood, fanned herself with her hand, then seriously arranged her bangs, combing her hair with her knuckles.

Her hair ends were dark and hot, scraping against her neck and shoulders uncomfortably.

It was too late for regrets. In this weather, still wearing her hair down—she was asking for trouble, bringing it on herself.

But for beauty, she endured.

When the elevator doors opened, Chun Zao’s eyes widened. She hadn’t expected Yuan Ye to already be waiting outside. As the doors expanded to both sides, the boy’s spreading smile gradually grew larger too.

Chun Zao looked away and walked out. She was petty—to retaliate against his deliberate rogue behavior upstairs just now, she pretended to be a stranger passing by.

Yuan Ye grabbed her arm: “Where are you running?”

He laughed and said, “Do you even know where 1006 is? Yet you’re running.”

Chun Zao rolled her eyes at him.

The boy’s warm fingers quickly slid down from the inside of her wrist, instantly becoming interlocked.

This action was like a binding spell—Chun Zao immediately stopped moving.

Yuan Ye naturally took the large bag from her with his other hand: “Is it heavy?”

Acting cute seemed to be a passive skill that automatically activated during eye contact. Chun Zao rarely acted like a little girl, pouting: “Super heavy.”

“Then why buy so much? It’s not like this is the first time living alone,” Yuan Ye took it and glanced toward the end of the hallway. “I have nothing here.”

“Oh,” he quickly contradicted himself: “There are things I don’t have.”

While talking, he pulled Chun Zao closer without explanation, everything unspoken.

Their arms immediately pressed together. Chun Zao tried to avoid it, but Yuan Ye pulled her back again, stubbornly not letting her get more than five centimeters away from him.

After entering the house, Chun Zao understood why Yuan Ye didn’t want her to come—indeed, there were still some furniture components not yet properly installed scattered on the living room floor, placed haphazardly, making walking like wading through rapids over rocks.

Yuan Ye pulled her along while kicking those things aside to clear a path for her.

The entire house wasn’t very large—a typical shotgun house with a two-bedroom, one-living-room layout, but it had a full south-facing floor-to-ceiling window. The afternoon sunlight streamed in very transparently, washing everything in exceptional soft brightness.

Chun Zao looked around: “Have the installers left?”

Yuan Ye settled her on the edge of the clean bedroom bed, went to get a can of chilled soda from the refrigerator, pulled the tab, and handed it to her: “Mm, hot?”

Chun Zao replied: “Hot.” She took a big sip and pointed outside: “Aren’t they going to install those things in the living room?”

Yuan Ye looked down at her: “Those are simple, I’ll do them myself.”

Chun Zao mentally estimated that all those things would take at least a day or two to finish, still worried: “Didn’t the landlord leave you any furniture?”

Yuan Ye sat beside her, hands propped behind him: “Some furniture was too old, I had him move it out.”

“You,” Chun Zao paused, “are quite particular.”

Yuan Ye’s tone was flat: “For whom?”

Chun Zao was speechless, glancing at him sideways: “Of course, for your comfort, living here.”

Yuan Ye raised an eyebrow: “Me? I’m very casual.”

Chun Zao took the opposite approach, speaking weakly: “I won’t… come over often.”

“What?” The boy immediately seemed to hear something terrible, his brow furrowing, his tone threatening: “Say that again?”

“Ah. Forgot.” Chun Zao pretended to have amnesia, looking at the sky, but when she lowered her eyes, she met Yuan Ye’s displeased face. Up close, the boy’s eyebrows, eyelashes, bangs, straight nose bridge, and light red lips. They all looked the same as before, but because of their mutual understanding from over an hour ago, they seemed different.

Beautiful, delicate pastry with the transparent cover removed.

Visual, taste, and feeling all became more intense.

His unblinking eyes were like high-concentration dark chocolate, melting, spreading, enveloping her.

Chun Zao’s breathing became slightly rapid.

She immediately turned her head and stood up abruptly: “I’ll go organize the things I bought.”

Yuan Ye propped himself up with one arm and followed, staying close.

The result was that wherever Chun Zao went, he followed. When she bent or reached up to store items in kitchen cabinets, he stood at a neither close nor far distance, staring intently, lips slightly curved.

She couldn’t manage to be at ease at all.

Chun Zao’s earlobes were almost as red as ripe pomegranate seeds. She looked back: “Can you stop watching?”

Yuan Ye leaned against the sliding door, unmoved and unanswering.

Only half the plastic bag’s contents had been cleared when Chun Zao was defeated by his continuous visual bombardment.

She walked back, raised both arms, and pushed him, trying to drive this staring maniac out of the same space: “Are you… Very idle? If you’re idle, go to the living room and assemble those furniture pieces.”

Yuan Ye initially stood steady, unmoved, no matter how hard she pushed. But after five seconds, he smiled with mischief and deliberately stepped back half a step.

Due to inertia, Chun Zao stumbled slightly and was immediately pulled into a chest.

She was startled, raising her hand to press against the nearest support. Yuan Ye’s hand also grasped the middle of her shoulder blades, buckling her more firmly toward himself, leaving no space between them.

Among her five senses, only the boy’s solid chest remained.

It was rising and falling.

Breathing with temperature and life, with rapid pulsing inside, like a speeding train passing continuously by the station sign in her palm.

Chun Zao’s heartbeat also became chaotic and rapid.

She struggled symbolically—the effectiveness would be a miracle. How could he possibly let go?

“Don’t move. I’m also a bit,” the boy’s chin was at her forehead, intimately rubbing twice. His words carried youthful hesitation: “A bit… don’t know what to do.”

“Would this be… better? Hugging more times, hugging longer, to quickly adapt to our new relationship.”

Chun Zao hummed with laughter, responding with an “oh,” like pink popping candy bursting at the edge of his heart.

Yuan Ye was also made to laugh: “God, I’m so happy.”

He suddenly had faith, because of opportunity—opportunity that allowed this moment to begin, happen, and present itself.

Chun Zao felt the same.

She tried hard to suppress her laughter, also letting her hand drop from his chest to circle his waist. She was also so happy, and very blissful, satisfied, lucky, joyful, sweet… all superlative words seemed equipped for this instant. Like a sparkling waterfall that would pour down, cascading over her head.

She could only hug him tighter.

His body was the best shelter and the best container.

When emotions well up, do they always become so abundant that they bring tears? Chun Zao wanted to tell him at this point: “Last month, I…”

“Mm?”

“Went to that coffee shop and saw your postcard.”

This was unexpected for Yuan Ye, he was somewhat surprised: “Really?”

Chun Zao softly “mm” ed: “I cried terribly after seeing it.” And she still wanted to cry now—just thinking about it brought tears like sudden rain, gathering at the window.

The boy pulled apart their distance, lowered his face, and wiped away the tears at her eye corners: “That wasn’t the effect I wanted.”

Chun Zao rubbed her eyes: “When did you put it there?”

Yuan Ye replied: “That winter break after we separated. I thought, someday you’d see it.”

Chun Zao smiled gently, her eyelashes wet: “I think I saw it at just the right time.”

Yuan Ye said, “Earlier than I expected.”

Chun Zao was curious again: “How many times did you see me before? Were you stalking me?”

Yuan Ye paused for several seconds at her wild accusation: “How many times do you even come out in a year? Don’t randomly accuse people. Before we lived together, I only encountered you twice outside school.”

He was also puzzled: “I don’t know why either, I just always seemed to see you.”

“How is twice ‘always’?”

“If I say always, it’s always.”

“Did you have a crush on me from very early on?”

“Student Chun Zao is being too narcissistic.”

“Then move your hands away, no more hugging.”

“No way.”

…

After organizing the items and helping Yuan Ye assemble the sofa and coffee table, Chun Zao timed her departure to head home before sunset. With results still undetermined, she didn’t dare be too bold and give her mom ammunition.

She didn’t let Yuan Ye see her off, not even downstairs.

At the entrance, the repeatedly declined boy detained her, very dissatisfied: “This is too much.”

Chun Zao was reasonable: “Small impatience ruins great plans.” And promised: “I’ll come to see you tomorrow.”

“Fine,” Yuan Ye reluctantly agreed, then called her back just as she was about to open the door: “Wait.”

He took two keys on a ring from his pants pocket, lifting the small and large ones separately to show her: “Small one, downstairs. Large one, upstairs.”

Finally handing them over: “Take these.”

Chun Zao grasped them, her eyelashes fluttering: “Don’t you need them?”

Yuan Ye pointed toward the room: “There are spares.”

Chun Zao scratched her hair, hesitating: “This isn’t quite right…” She meant freely entering and leaving his residence, not giving him personal privacy space.

Yuan Ye squinted slightly, changing his approach: “Just keep a set for me. In case I lose my keys, I can ask you for them.”

But the girl in front of him was good at acting coy and playing hard to get, complaining about grapes being sour even after eating them: “Am I your storage room? Before it was the seaside fund, now you’re stuffing everything with me.”

Yuan Ye was speechless.

Then he extended his right hand, palm open in mid-air before her, seriously agreeing: “Yeah, want this too?”

Chun Zao looked down—his hand was empty. She asked confusedly: “What?”

“My hand.”

Chun Zao understood and was about to slap it away forcefully. But halfway through, Yuan Ye intercepted and grasped it, pulling her back, resting his chin without explanation at her shoulder and neck hollow, heavy and warm with breath: “And my head.”

His other hand naturally pressed her back against him. What to do—the girl was like perfectly sweet coconut pudding, he could hug her ten thousand times and never get tired: “And me.”

“All stored.”

Chun Zao pushed his shoulders twice, naturally to no effect.

After returning home, eating dinner, and showering, Chun Zao sneakily locked her door tight, put on earphones properly, and crawled under the thin blanket.

The voice chat they’d agreed on before parting arrived as scheduled. Chun Zao connected in the semi-dark environment, ready to chat wholeheartedly.

“Hello?”

Just hearing Yuan Ye’s voice, sweetness spread like wildly growing branches across her cheeks.

Chun Zao: “Mm.”

The other side seemed to have a bad signal and didn’t hear: “Hello?”

Chun Zao held up her phone, looking at it confusedly: “Hm? Can’t you hear?”

“Can’t hear.” His answer contained laughter—he was teasing her.

“I’ll hit you.” She scolded.

Because her parents were still watching TV in the living room with drama voices faintly coming through, she could only speak softly: “If you keep causing trouble, I’ll hang up.”

“No way.” Yuan Ye immediately became “serious.”

After all this time, they hadn’t had many remote calls.

Suddenly, they couldn’t find topics.

The voice call went silent, they tacitly quieted together.

Chun Zao had noise-canceling mode on her earphones, plus the blanket’s own enclosed shielding effect. The boy’s breathing fell by her ear, appearing and disappearing, evenly contracting and expanding.

Synesthesia.

Chun Zao flashed on this rhetorical device in her mind.

Her heartbeat involuntarily quickened. She urgently searched for topics in her chest tightness, trying to mask this warm intuition: “Did you estimate your scores?”

Yuan Ye asked: “What about you?”

Chun Zao answered slowly: “I estimated conservatively.”

“How was it?”

“Around 640 to 650.”

Yuan Ye congratulated in advance: “Then congratulations.”

Chun Zao said coldly, “Did you estimate or not?”

Yuan Ye said, “No.” When the last stroke fell, the result was already determined. The rest was just luck.

He asked: “Do you want me to estimate? If you need me to, I’ll roughly estimate.”

“Forget it.” This perpetual 700+ warrior didn’t need much worry. Chun Zao pursed her lips and continued explaining her considerations: “I looked at the historical admission scores for schools I want to attend in our province. If my score can’t get into law or language and literature, choosing a minor language should be no problem.”

Yuan Ye laughed: “You’re thinking so far ahead. Can you relax for a few days first?”

“Just thinking, what’s wrong with being prepared?”

“Nothing wrong, think away.”

Yuan Ye asked: “Anyway, going to Beijing is no problem?”

Chun Zao: “Mm.”

Yuan Ye continued: “Then, my going to Beijing is also no problem.”

Chun Zao snorted, twisted around for a while, then asked: “So are you going to that T or that P?”

Yuan Ye was quiet for two seconds, then said seriously: “I’m going to that Z.”

Hm?

Chun Zao frowned, and in his unhurried silence, she suddenly realized.

In an instant, she laughed until her face burned, secretly delighted while pretending not to understand: “Which university abbreviation is that? I don’t get it.”

Yuan Ye was too lazy to play word games with her anymore: “Very simple. The university where Chun Zao is, that’s the only one worthy of being my university.”

Author’s Note:

T University: Tsinghua

P University: Peking University

Z: ZAO

Afraid some readers might not understand the last letter joke, so I’m explaining it here.

Yesterday, I saw comments asking if there’s still angst coming—

No more angst! What follows is all romance sweetness, mixed with the improvement of the male and female leads’ family relationships.

All is happening during this blazing summer. There are still some things to tell.

(Of course, I personally still quite like writing some little romantic sweet moments, especially since I’ve never written this kind of “young boy and girl” protagonists before—very clean and pure, like glass slides and white paper as a CP. Either the man is older than the woman, or the woman is older than the man, or they’re evenly matched, with one party guiding or both being very “experienced.” So I want to challenge their exploration and progression process during their passionate love period (though they’re both quite good at it themselves). Anyway, let me write!! Let me write——!! If you like it, read it; if not, don’t—just happy reading)

Most likely will end the main text at the seaside viewing point.

Then extras will cover university campus, urban life, and family building content.

Overall, this is a story with very high campus content.