Good students learn everything quickly.

Their second kiss didn’t come much later than the first, nor did the third. That period was the best time in their three years together. Even when they quarreled, they quickly made up.

In their third year of high school, Cheng Wanyue was placed in a different class from her childhood friends, and their classrooms weren’t even on the same floor. But she didn’t mind—she could have fun in any class.

She was probably the only student with average academic performance whom every teacher, from kindergarten to high school, not only didn’t dislike but enjoyed having.

Before the heat arrived, White City had a long rainy season. When Cheng Yanqing was secretly dating his first love, Qin Hua, he kept it from everyone around him. During his first and second years of high school, he would disappear as soon as class ended and return home late. Cheng Wanyue often couldn’t find him. The same continued in their third year, and she had no idea what kept him so busy.

Cheng Wanyue tested the limits of tardiness every day, rushing out the door in the morning and always forgetting to bring an umbrella.

She had fallen asleep again during math class. Her desk mate couldn’t wake her up, and ended up being muttered at in her sleep.

On the last Friday of each month, there was no evening self-study session, and students had two days off for the weekend. Many boarding students would return home. By the time she yawned and struggled to open her eyes, most of her classmates had already left.

It was raining again.

Cheng Wanyue disliked rainy days. She had many beautiful clothes and shoes, and hated when they got dirty from puddles while walking. She sighed, reaching into her desk drawer, but could only find snacks.

What was the point of having two brothers when neither could be relied upon?

Qing Hang, being the class monitor, was always the last to leave. When he reached the bottom floor, he stopped at the corner because he saw Cheng Wanyue standing at the entrance of the teaching building. It was raining outside, and she was wearing white shoes, hesitant to step out.

Before she noticed him, he stuffed his umbrella into his backpack.

Hearing footsteps, Cheng Wanyue turned around. She wore something different every day. Yang Huimin was willing to spend money on this aspect—with only one daughter who would only be seventeen once in her lifetime, of course, she should dress beautifully.

White City First High School didn’t strictly require students to wear uniforms. Only Qing Hang wore his properly, day after day.

He hadn’t seen her yet when she quietly hid outside the door, waiting to jump out and scare him as he approached the entrance.

“Qing Hang!”

The momentum was strong, and she had to grab his arm to steady herself.

Qing Hang seemed genuinely startled. “Why are you leaving only now?”

“I fell asleep,” Cheng Wanyue noticed his empty hands. “You didn’t bring an umbrella either? Looks like we’ll both have to get wet on our way back today.”

From the corner of his eye, Qing Hang noticed a student from the sports team coming down the stairs from the other side. He had a good relationship with Cheng Wanyue and had even taught her basketball during the summer vacation, for which she had bought several sets of basketball outfits. He was now walking towards them, holding a large black umbrella.

Cheng Wanyue was still worrying about her shoes when suddenly everything went dark. Something covered her head. She grabbed the edge and lifted it just enough to see that it was Qing Hang’s uniform jacket that he had taken off.

In the next second, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the rain.

She vaguely heard someone calling her name from behind. The uniform covering her head kept getting blown over her eyes by the wind. She couldn’t turn back to see who it was. “I think someone’s calling me. Qing Hang, did you hear it?”

“No,” he quickened his pace. “The rain will get heavier if we wait any longer.”

“Ah, I stepped in a puddle! Qing Hang, my parents are in another meeting. I want to stay at your place for a while.”

“Okay.”

It was only a ten-minute walk. They were already getting wet, so there was no real need to rush, but Cheng Wanyue was being pulled along by him. As soon as she opened her mouth, rainwater flew in. The sound of the howling wind and rain around her ears made it difficult to hear what was being said.

Her stamina wasn’t as good as his. When they got home, she collapsed onto the recliner, breathing heavily in large gulps. Only after she had rested enough did she sit up to remove her shoes and dry her hair.

“Where’s Grandpa?”

“He went back to the village,” Qing Hang poured a glass of boiled water and brought it into the room, placing it on the table. “Change your clothes first, then drink the hot water to prevent catching a cold.”

The half-wet uniform jacket was piled on the chair. Cheng Wanyue glanced at it but didn’t take the T-shirt he handed her. “It’s a bit cold today. I want to wear your other uniform jacket.”

Each quarter, they received two sets.

“Let me look for it,” Qing Hang went back to search through the wardrobe.

It was early autumn, and the weather fluctuated between cool and warm. His other uniform had been washed and was buried underneath other clothes.

Cheng Wanyue sat on the recliner, unbuttoning her shirt, using a towel to dry the moisture from her body. When Qing Hang turned around, she was adjusting her bra strap, which was a bit tight and had left a faint red mark on her skin.

“Carry me,” she would always complain that the recliner hurt her waist, her back, hurt everywhere, and ask Qing Hang to put a cushion on it, but he never listened.

Qing Hang looked slender but was very strong. Even if Cheng Wanyue didn’t cooperate at all, he could still pick her up effortlessly.

She was wearing only the uniform jacket, having removed the hair tie from her hair, which now hung smoothly over her shoulders.

As Qing Hang bent down to carry her, his cool lips also pressed against hers.

They fell onto the bed together. He propped himself up, not putting his full weight on her. After a brief separation of just one second, he changed completely, his kisses suddenly turning fierce.

He remembered the summer vacation when she played basketball with some sports students on the playground.

The clothes were very loose on Cheng Wanyue, and the sleeves were too long. As their bodies entangled, she became increasingly constrained, as if bound by ropes. Her struggles, whether light or strong, were in vain, only rubbing against the hardness at his crotch, pleasing him.

“Biting again? You’re the puppy.”

“Little Dog Qing.”

“I just came to do homework. Who told you to kiss me?”

Qing Hang not only kissed her but also wanted to touch her.

At times like this, she didn’t have much temper. At most, she would pretend to be unhappy from her disadvantaged position, deliberately feigning anger, glaring at him, calling out in pain with teary eyes. Once he had thrown down his spear and shield, withdrawn his blade, she would reveal her true nature, returning double the pain she had suffered beneath him.

He had learned his lesson. Unless he was willing to be toyed with, he would never step into the same trap twice.

Qing Hang slipped one hand around her waist, as if grasping a smooth, soft dollop of cream. The little remaining thinking capacity in his brain was entirely devoted to recalling how she had supported herself earlier.

He was silent but forceful, desiring much despite his inexperience.

Leaving marks on her neck was too dangerous. When kissing her collarbone, he was very careful. Once past the danger zone, he couldn’t hold back, but she had said he could only kiss her if he didn’t hurt her, so he could only go slower, lighter.

Her breast was as soft as a fully ripened persimmon—just a small bite would release the juice inside. Even his tongue seemed too rough, let alone his teeth.

No matter how careful he was, he would lose control.

The head buried in her chest was forcefully pushed away. Qing Hang’s vision was blurry. After a long while, the contours of her facial features gradually became clear—flushed cheeks, red ears, slightly moist eyes, silently accusing him of how cruel he had been.

His head ached severely. With a dazed expression and hoarse voice, he said, “Why did you cut your hair short… it wasn’t like this… You had long hair, black…”

Cheng Wanyue glared at him with puffed cheeks. “Qing Hang, you dare to complain that my short hair is ugly!”

The alarm clock rang, its sound unbearably harsh. Only then did Qing Hang come to his senses. They weren’t in that small, damp room, and it wasn’t raining outside.

“Why am I on the bed?” Wasn’t he supposed to be sleeping on the sofa…

He had a high fever, his body frighteningly hot, and his mind was confused. Cheng Wanyue didn’t hold it against him for criticizing her hair while simultaneously groping her chest—such scoundrel behavior.

“You’re asking me? I should be asking you! We agreed that I would sleep on the bed and you on the sofa, yet you took advantage of me while I was asleep.”

Qing Hang was made dizzy by the piercing sound of the alarm clock. Dream and reality overlapped, and he was trapped inside, unable to find an exit.

His mother had died on his birthday, which was why he never celebrated it. His childhood had only black and white. After Cheng Wanyue burst into his life, those unpleasant memories were gradually erased, like words wiped away by an eraser. She liked bright colors and painted stroke after stroke in his world.

After they separated, those painful memories silently resurfaced, becoming shackles that hindered his progress, dragging him down. Every step he took was more difficult than the others.

Love that began too early, once rotten, spread like a slow poison along the roots and stems, invading the internal organs.

He had come a long way to reach where he was now. If he paused even slightly to look back, all he could recall were painful memories—the death of his parents, his grandfather’s passing, the poverty, loneliness, and helplessness of his youth, and… Cheng Wanyue.

But just when he thought he was about to fall off a cliff with the collapsing rocks, it was Cheng Wanyue who reached out her hand to rescue him.

He had nothing left, but then Cheng Wanyue came.

Cheng Wanyue didn’t know what Qing Hang was thinking. She just felt that he looked somewhat cold when he first woke up, yet his gaze upon her was gentle, as if hiding countless emotions she couldn’t understand.

“You undressed me, aren’t you going to help me get dressed?” she complained softly and coquettishly. “Qing Hang, you haven’t improved at all. I told you to be gentle, but you still hurt me every time. I’m not dough that can be kneaded and pinched without feeling pain.”

Qing Hang suddenly smiled. “How would you like me to improve?”