When they entered their first year of high school, Cheng Wanyue, Qing Hang, and Zhou Yu were assigned to the same class.

After the school leadership learned that Qing Hang was receiving financial assistance from the Cheng family, they arranged for him to give a speech at the opening ceremony. His story was inspirational and had positive educational value—despite coming from a poor background, his academic performance was excellent, and he had been admitted to White City First High School with the highest score.

The playground was filled with students and teachers. Qing Hang walked to the flag-raising platform under everyone’s gaze.

His speech was brief, less than 200 characters, summarizing his past in just a few simple sentences.

Some sympathized with his experience, while others thought he was acting aloof by keeping to himself. They began to constantly cause trouble for him.

Cheng Wanyue had already been well-known in middle school, and after entering high school, her circle of friends only grew. Her friendships varied in closeness, but Zhou Yu, who had grown up with her since childhood, held an irreplaceable position in her heart and had been protected by her since elementary school. Some people tried to curry favor with her by deliberately saying in front of her that Qing Hang’s grandfather collected scrap, that his home was filthy and smelly, that he was living off her family’s money, yet showed no politeness in front of her, walking around with a cold face as if the whole world owed him something.

There were many people in the hallway. The boy spoke loudly, and everyone heard him. Immediately, people laughed and joined in the teasing.

Cheng Wanyue’s expression grew increasingly dark.

“Is this funny? Didn’t your teacher teach you to respect others? Did your parents not teach you either? In all your years of life, besides eating and drinking, is all your mouth good for gossiping behind others’ backs? You compare family backgrounds, clothes, and sneakers—why don’t you compare grades with him? You bought your way in here, ranked last in the entire grade at midterms, and instead of feeling ashamed, you’re proud of it. What gives someone like you, who doesn’t even do yourself any favors, the right to mock others?”

She glared at the boy, telling him word by word, “Yes, Qing’s grandfather collects recyclables, but Qing Hang is not trash. Collecting recyclables is just a job, and there’s no distinction between high and low, noble or humble work.”

What filthy and smelly nonsense—Qing Hang’s home was actually very clean. His grandfather worked slowly but meticulously, with everything arranged neatly.

“Before the National Day holiday last year, were you also the one who falsely accused Qing Hang of stealing?”

The classroom surveillance cameras weren’t just for show, but during the early days of the semester, many people assumed the cameras weren’t turned on.

“I hold grudges. If I hear you twisting facts and speaking ill of him again, just you wait!”

The last person Cheng Wanyue had defended like this was Zhou Yu.

The next day, some friends teased her, “Cheng Wanyue, you’re so protective, you might as well change your name to Cheng Little Dog, or Cheng Little Hen. Your behavior yesterday was just like a dog guarding its bone, or a mother hen protecting her eggs.”

She wouldn’t get angry at this kind of joke.

“I don’t mind, it’s none of your business.” Cheng Wanyue lay on her desk, looking at the empty seat beside her.

Qing Hang was her deskmate. He had gone to another city with a teacher for a math competition. Usually, sitting together every day didn’t feel particularly special, but when the seat next to her was suddenly empty for two days, she felt a bit uncomfortable.

She hadn’t gone to eat breakfast, nor had she finished her homework.

Their homeroom teacher said her brain worked well sometimes and not so well other times, and suggested she use it sparingly, saving her best performance for the college entrance exam.

Qing Hang arrived at school during the half-hour breakfast break. As he passed through the corridor, most of the students who hadn’t gone to eat breakfast were napping on their desks.

He walked to the classroom entrance and stopped in his tracks after a casual glance inside.

Cheng Wanyue’s seat was by the window. The winter break had just ended, and the weather was still cold. She was leaning on the windowsill, breathing on the glass window, and drawing with her finger. She looked dejected.

It took Qing Hang a long while to make out what she was writing—it was his name.

The moment of heart-fluttering is too brief; what lasts is the chain reaction produced by the hormones secreted by the brain in that moment. If too excited, one might have the illusion that the other person also likes them.

“Qing Hang!” Cheng Wanyue suddenly noticed Qing Hang standing outside the window. She stood up excitedly and pushed open the window. “How did you get back? Weren’t you supposed to return on Thursday?”

He hadn’t slept well and seemed a bit dazed. “There happened to be tickets available, so Teacher Zhang changed our booking. He needed to hurry back for a meeting at school.”

Cheng Wanyue couldn’t care less about whether it was Teacher Zhang or Teacher Li, or whether it was for a meeting or class. The week before Qing Hang left for the competition, they had argued. Before he left, they hadn’t spoken to each other all day.

“Was the competition difficult? I bet none of them were as good as you. You must have won a prize.”

“Have you eaten breakfast? I still have bread and milk.”

“The teacher handed out so many test papers, and I can’t solve any of them. They’re due tomorrow. Will you teach me?”

“Qing Hang, don’t ignore me.”

She took out a milk candy from her desk drawer and placed it on the windowsill closer to his side. She rested her chin on the back of her hand, looking at him pitifully. “I didn’t mean it. Please don’t be angry with me anymore.”

The condensation on the glass window gathered into droplets and slid down, gradually blurring the characters she had written.

Qing Hang stared at the milk candy, lost in thought.

Many times, he didn’t know exactly what he was angry about.

It was like having a rope tied to both his wrists, pulling him from both sides, sometimes loose and sometimes tight. When tight, it reminded him not to stray from his path; when loose, it gave him a chance to hope.

His head ached. Half asleep, Qing Hang went to the bathroom, not even turning on the light. Following the faint scent of milk candy, he habitually returned to the bedroom and went straight to sleep.

The air conditioner had been running all night. After the door was closed, the cold air remained trapped in the room. Cheng Wanyue felt increasingly cold as she slept, and she was the first to wake up in the morning.

She opened her eyes groggily and was startled to see Qing Hang sleeping beside her, staring in disbelief for a long while.

When asleep, his face didn’t show the usual sense of detachment.

She had practically monopolized the entire bed. He had no pillow and was squeezed to the edge of the bed—any further and he would have fallen off. The thin air-conditioning blanket was completely covering her, with just a small corner barely covering his waist.

The room faced away from the sun, so the morning sunlight couldn’t reach it.

With the curtains drawn and the early hour, the room wasn’t particularly bright.

“Qing Hang.”

Awakened by her call, he silently looked at her, then closed his eyes again after a while, as if falling back asleep.

Cheng Wanyue propped herself up on her elbow and gently poked his face. “Were you sleepwalking?”

“Or… did you miss me while I was asleep?”

Her hair tips brushed against his face, tickling him.

Qing Hang felt somewhat irritated, vaguely hearing her laughter, sometimes near, sometimes far.

“I told you I wouldn’t sleep with you, yet you climbed into bed in the middle of the night… Ah!”

Before Cheng Wanyue could finish speaking, she was yanked by a force gripping her wrist and thrown onto the pillow. Her pampered complaints had no chance to escape before they were pushed back down her throat.

His body was very hot, his breath scalding.

Both her hands were pinned down by him, and the pain from their colliding lips and teeth resonated to her marrow. His tongue explored her mouth, and the hand on her waist slipped directly under the hem of her T-shirt.

In the passionate kiss, they were intimately close. Cheng Wanyue clearly sensed his physiological reaction that had been concealed by the thin blanket earlier.

She had been very active as a child and didn’t excel in any academic subject, but she was good at piano and drums. Cheng Guo’an had also enrolled her in ballet classes, hoping she would develop good temperament and posture instead of sitting and standing without proper manners like a little hooligan. She didn’t particularly like it and only learned the basics, but her body was very flexible.

His breathing was heavy, muffling the rustling sounds of clothes and sheets rubbing together.

Before they had separated, they had done everything except the final step. He was not completely ignorant of Cheng Wanyue’s body.

During their student days, Cheng Wanyue often coaxed him with a piece of milk candy. Each time, she would eat one first, then feed him another, secretly telling him that the one she had eaten tasted the same as the one in his mouth, which would make him want to kiss her.

He was always impatient, either biting her tongue tip or tearing her lip corner. Only after being scolded by her a few times did he retract his sharp claws and teeth, learning to be gentle, learning to penetrate gradually, like rock sugar slowly dissolving in a cup of water.

After the rock sugar had completely dissolved, simple kisses could no longer satisfy him.

One evening in an alley after rain, angered by her, he revealed his fierce aggression. In other aspects, she had significant advantages, but in terms of strength, she could never match him. The disparity was enormous—he could easily subdue her, and one hand slipped under that bright garment she was wearing.

That was their first kiss.

But in fact, it couldn’t really be called a kiss.

She was more like prey pinned under his claws. He not only captured her body but also bit her. Only after tasting blood did he mercifully spare her life, giving her a chance to escape, making her fear him, making her stay away from him, making her never provoke him again.

Cheng Wanyue wasn’t one to be frightened away.

When he revealed his wild nature, she wasn’t afraid; instead, she became interested. The more he ignored her, the more she wanted to see just how much he could endure.

“Qing Hang, your kissing technique is really terrible.”

“Do you enjoy touching my breasts? Do you like it?”

“If you behave and don’t hurt me, I’ll let you kiss me again.”