As Qiao Qingyu realized Ming Sheng was serious, an inexplicable heat filled the room. She lowered her gaze to the full bowl of porridge, picked up her spoon, and silently finished it.
After consuming the warm porridge, sweat beaded on her forehead. She looked up, once again falling into Ming Sheng’s bottomless, clear eyes.
“Stop looking at me.”
The coldness in her voice hurt Ming Sheng. He blinked his expression a mix of embarrassment and shock. After a moment, he turned away, presenting Qiao Qingyu with his handsome, proud profile.
“I know you’re serious,” Qiao Qingyu said softly, “but I want you to understand that this is pointless.”
Ming Sheng glanced at her quickly before looking away again, his chin lowering slightly as shadows of defeat crossed his face.
Qiao Qingyu’s heart clenched at his unfamiliar expression. “I mean, I already know you’re upright and reliable,” she hurriedly added, “and very kind-hearted.”
“I’m not helping you out of kindness,” Ming Sheng replied, “I like you.”
A tingling sensation spread from Qiao Qingyu’s scalp to her fingertips.
“You can reject me a second time, it’s fine,” Ming Sheng waved dismissively, feigning indifference. “But how I choose to act is my decision. You have no right to decide for me.”
He leaned closer, his determined gaze piercing Qiao Qingyu’s heart. “I’m going with you, and that’s final.”
Later, as Qiao Qingyu lay in bed listening to the rain outside, she felt wide awake, as if standing at the edge of a black hole. On the other side of that void were Ming Sheng’s eyes. She realized resistance was futile; she would inevitably be drawn in completely, even if it meant shattering into pieces.
Her mind was filled with thoughts of Ming Sheng, the urgency of escape forgotten. She replayed his looks, his words, his proud yet wounded expression over and over. Accompanied by the soft pattern of rain outside, she felt like a small boat drifting dreamily in those eyes deeper than the sea.
Involuntarily, she imagined a distant future. A modest house with floor-to-ceiling wooden bookshelves, sunlight streaming through clean windows onto a comfortable fabric sofa. A vase of fresh daisies on the dining table, their golden centers like tiny, eternal suns. Sitting at that table, her gaze would inevitably fall on Ming Sheng across from her, just as he would surely rest on her.
The rain intensified. A soft “click” came from outside as Ming Sheng turned off the living room floor lamp.
Wide awake, Qiao Qingyu wondered if Ming Sheng would go straight to sleep or if he, like her, would lie awake listening to the rain and thinking of the other.
She regretted her earlier hesitation when Ming Sheng had asked if she wanted to use the internet. Was it embarrassment at being alone with him in his room, or fear of seeing news about herself online? Perhaps both. Am I so timid, she thought, unable to face either my emotions or reality?
Her bed was against the wall. Stretching out her left arm, her fingertips touched the cool surface. Ming Sheng was just on the other side. He probably couldn’t sleep either. What was he doing now?
She anticipated how she would face Ming Sheng next. Perhaps, without him even speaking, one look into those eyes would make her surrender, revealing all her plans. She couldn’t bear to see disappointment cloud those captivating features again. Maybe she could be even bolder, recklessly merging her feelings with reality—allowing Ming Sheng to lead her away with his injured hand, to anywhere at all.
After tossing and turning for a long while, Qiao Qingyu realized the rain had stopped. As she closed her eyes, trying to sleep, she heard soft knocking.
Knock, knock-knock, knock-knock.
Someone was knocking on the heavy iron door of the apartment. Qiao Qingyu’s first thought was that her family had seen her, and she sat up in fright.
Knock, knock-knock, knock-knock. The sound was steady and calm, not at all frantic.
Ming Sheng didn’t stir.
Qiao Qingyu quickly got out of bed, dressed, and carefully made the bed. The knocking continued. Resigned to her fate, she walked towards the door, vowing not to let her family cause a scene in this apartment. She had to leave before Ming Sheng woke up.
As her hand reached for the doorknob, a sudden “creak” came from outside—Ming Sheng had rushed to the iron door.
He moved like the wind, immediately pushing the iron door open with another “creak.”
Qiao Qingyu stood frozen, her hand on the cold doorknob.
“Come in,” Ming Sheng said, sounding unsurprised.
The iron door closed. Footsteps approached the sofa and sat down softly.
“I saw the light on across the hall earlier and knew you were back,” a very gentle girl’s voice came from the living room. “Still jet-lagged? You must be exhausted after flying for over ten hours.”
It was Wang Mumu. Qiao Qingyu exhaled silently in relief.
“It’s fine,” Ming Sheng’s voice came from near the dining table chair.
“To be honest, my parents were fighting again tonight,” Wang Mumu said, sounding like she was smiling bitterly. Her voice, though resigned, was strong and captivating. “It’s been non-stop these past few days during the New Year. My dad’s crazy, and my mom cries all the time.”
“I saw the beer bottles on the ground.”
Wang Mumu sighed. “You know, Ah Sheng, this is the first time I’ve ever left home in the middle of the night.”
“If I were you, I’d have left long ago.”
“I’m not like you,” Wang Mumu said softly. “I’m a girl. When I tried to leave just now, my mom cried from her bed, saying it’s improper for a girl to be out late… But I left anyway.”
“Not really,” Ming Sheng replied, “you’re just outside your home. Are you planning to go somewhere else? Or will you head back after a while?”
“For me, leaving home at night and knocking on a boy’s door alone is already a brave act,” Wang Mumu’s voice was barely audible. “Although we’re close, there’s still a difference between boys and girls. We’re not kids anymore.”
Ming Sheng remained silent.
“But I’m not nervous at all. Your place is so familiar to me, right? When I was little and my parents were busy, Grandpa often invited me over for meals. I even helped him clean to avoid feeling embarrassed. I know every corner here, and I often tidied your room.”
“Indeed,” Ming Sheng agreed, “why be nervous when you’re so familiar with the place?”
“It’s still nerve-wracking to leave home for the first time,” Wang Mumu seemed to chide gently. “To be honest, it was Qiao Qingyu from your class who inspired me. After learning what she did, I thought, ‘Wow, she’s so brave. I wish I could be like her.’ That’s why I texted you asking if I could come. Were you surprised to get my message?”
“Not really.”
“You came back last night, right?” Wang Mumu asked with a smile. “Honestly, I was quite surprised. I thought you’d finish adjusting to the time difference at Qinghu Manor before coming to visit. I didn’t expect…”
“Sister Mumu,” Ming Sheng interrupted, sounding slightly impatient, “Did you come here just because you had nowhere else to go, or do you need my help with something? If you need help, just say so. I’ll do what I can.”
“Oh,” Wang Mumu sounded a bit embarrassed, “It’s nothing. I know it’s not appropriate, but I don’t want to go home tonight… Don’t you usually sleep in the big room? Could I stay in the small room? I won’t sleep, I’ll just use the internet until dawn.”
There was a moment of silence before Ming Sheng responded.
“If it’s inconvenient, I can sit on the living room sofa. You go ahead and sleep,” Wang Mumu said. “I’ll go to a classmate’s place when it’s light out. It’s too dark now, and it’s wet and cold outside. I’m afraid to leave.”
“Sister Mumu,” Ming Sheng’s voice became serious, as if after careful consideration, “Qiao Qingyu is here.”
“What?!”
“She’s already asleep in the big room,” Ming Sheng explained further. “So, I’m sleeping in the small room tonight.”
“Oh…”
“She doesn’t want her parents to find her, so,” Ming Sheng paused, “you must keep this a secret.”
“Her parents are very worried about her,” Wang Mumu’s voice held a rare urgency. “Their family has been in chaos for days. How can she bear to leave like this? Did she come to you for help? Why did you agree?”
“I found her myself and brought her back,” Ming Sheng answered seriously. “She had nowhere to go, brought nothing with her, and she had a fever.”
“You’re too kind, Ah Sheng. She hurt you, yet you repay her with kindness… She’s truly fortunate to know you.”
“Sister Mumu,” Ming Sheng took a deep breath, “I like her.”
Behind the door, Qiao Qingyu nervously clutched her chest, as if the confession was her own. She hadn’t expected Ming Sheng to be so candid. On second thought, perhaps this was normal between close friends. Ming Sheng wasn’t one to be coy, and it was natural for him to be uninhibited with a trusted childhood friend. It was Qiao Qingyu who lacked friends and didn’t know how to open up to others.
After a few seconds of dead silence, Wang Mumu spoke, her voice still incredibly gentle: “Actually, I kind of guessed it. I know you so well… You think she’s special, don’t you?”
“Of course.”
“I think so too,” Wang Mumu said with a smile. “I quite like her as well. She’s beautiful but not vain. Although she’s quiet and keeps to herself, she must be a wonderful person.”
With these words, the tension in the room eased. Qiao Qingyu, eavesdropping behind the door, was moved almost to tears.
“It’s just that she doesn’t accept me,” Ming Sheng sounded more relaxed too. “But it’s only a matter of time. One day she will.”
“I think so too,” Wang Mumu laughed. “How could any girl not accept you? Unless she’s blind!”
Ming Sheng chuckled softly.
“I’m really glad you told me who you like,” Wang Mumu continued, still laughing. “It shows you’re still willing to confide in me.”
“I wasn’t planning to hide it from anyone.”
“In that case, I’ll head home now. I won’t say more,” Wang Mumu stood up. “Talking to you has already made me feel much better.”
Ming Sheng didn’t ask further or try to make her stay. He opened the iron door and saw Wang Mumu out.
On a rainy day, Qiao Qingyu was awakened in her warm bed by the gentle sound of a piano. After listening for a moment, she realized the warm, calm melody was coming from the living room on the other side of the wall. She had never seen Ming Sheng play the piano, and now she could only imagine his nimble yet powerful hands moving over the black and white keys. At one point, the low notes became tighter and sorrowful, while the high notes were smooth yet resolute as if angels in the clouds were parting the dark sky and reaching out to her, mired in the mud below. Qiao Qingyu paused in dressing, her eyes welling up with indescribable emotion.
As she opened the door, the last note still lingered in the air. Ming Sheng lowered his hands from the keys and looked at Qiao Qingyu with a shy yet proud smile.
“You can’t listen for free,” he said, extending his right hand towards her.
Qiao Qingyu reached into her down jacket pocket.
Ming Sheng laughed at her action. “You’re going to pay?”
In her pocket was something cool yet beautiful, the only shining thing Qiao Qingyu had, something she absolutely couldn’t lose. As she gently placed it in Ming Sheng’s palm, she felt as if she were entrusting herself to him.
She turned away, avoiding his eager gaze, and hurried towards the bathroom.
“I was just joking, Qiao Qingyu.”
“I know,” Qiao Qingyu’s ears burned hot. “It’s a gift for you.”
The rain continued unabated. Qiao Qingyu’s gesture of giving Ming Sheng the pearl hairpin was like a thunderclap, rendering him temporarily speechless. The air was thick with unspoken feelings. During lunch, they both ate in silence, but there were more shared glances—mainly because Qiao Qingyu no longer avoided Ming Sheng’s intense gaze. Ming Sheng seemed on the verge of smiling at any moment. Each time his eyes sparkled as he looked at her, waves of sweet emotion surged in Qiao Qingyu’s heart.
After lunch, Ming Sheng said he needed to return to Qinghu Manor to get some things. Qiao Qingyu knew it must be related to their impending departure.
“Don’t go to the kitchen, don’t open the curtains, and don’t answer the door for anyone,” Ming Sheng instructed before leaving. “Wait for me to come back.”
The door to his study was open, but despite her curiosity, Qiao Qingyu didn’t dare to turn on the computer. At this point, she thought, why not leave everything behind? With Ming Sheng, the mess behind her and the challenges ahead seemed manageable. Her mind was filled only with the vague idea of “escaping with Ming Sheng,” having lost all ability to think clearly. Yes, Ming Sheng was enough. He understood her predicament and seemed capable of anything.
Standing in front of the bookshelf, Qiao Qingyu pulled out the old copy of “Norwegian Wood” again. The tacky cover still hurt her eyes, but she tried her best to ignore it. With Ming Sheng gone, her heart felt a little empty, and she believed the straightforward and melancholic youth in the book would fill that void. She was tired of those safe world classics. She wanted love.
Sitting on the bed with the book, Qiao Qingyu opened the first page of the main text. This was her favorite moment—sitting on a dry, warm bed on a rainy day, reading a long-anticipated book. But now the soft patter of rain outside distracted her. Her thoughts kept drifting to the window, and Ming Sheng’s shadow seemed to cover the pages. It felt as if countless blades of grass were sprouting in her heart, creating a tickling sensation.
Suddenly, she realized it was raining, not snowing, which meant the weather was getting warmer.
So, the soft and lingering precipitation outside must be spring rain, right?