When Cheng Wanyue liked something, the novelty came quickly and disappeared just as fast.

When she liked something, she couldn’t wait to possess it immediately. But once that feeling passed, she might lose interest even before the package arrived.

Clothes and shoes could be thrown away and picked up again intact, but people were different.

Meiqiu kept scratching at Qing Hang’s pants, still wanting to climb onto the bed. Cheng Wanyue lay on the edge of the bed watching. During these few minutes of Qing Hang’s silence, his gaze was unfocused.

He asked, “If you weren’t that into it, why date them?”

Cheng Wanyue countered, “How would I know I wasn’t that into it without dating them?”

Qing Hang’s eyes settled on her face. “Is it difficult for you to be certain of your feelings?”

She thought for a moment. “It used to be quite difficult.”

Meiqiu lost its grip and fell onto Qing Hang’s foot. Fearing the kitten might be hurt, Cheng Wanyue quickly got out of bed, wrapped in the blanket.

She wasn’t wearing anything underneath, and her knees touched the carpet directly.

Qing Hang came back to his senses, first lifting her back onto the bed, then placing Meiqiu beside her. He remained silent while helping her dress, but once finished, he suddenly grabbed her wrist.

She leaned backward, falling onto the pillow. The light above was still blurry in her vision when his kiss descended.

He bit her lower lip until it bled.

He hadn’t been this fierce even after drinking last night.

Last night he had wanted a second round. Although the woman-on-top position had doubled the pleasure, it was exhausting. She had been both tired and sleepy, and when she said she didn’t want to continue, Qing Hang had taken her to shower. He hadn’t been satisfied.

The faint sound of the metal clasp of the belt reached her ears. Cheng Wanyue became slightly more alert. She pushed him lightly, but he immediately pinned her down.

“Qing Hang, if you dare tie me up, be prepared to get slapped. Going to work at the hospital with a handprint on your face wouldn’t look too good.”

“We’ve already slept together,” Qing Hang didn’t stop what he was doing, his voice unchanged. “Now I’m just kissing you, and you want to slap me?”

“It’s different,” Cheng Wanyue relaxed her body. “I didn’t say you couldn’t kiss me, but you can’t tie me up.”

“Then just kisses.”

He didn’t wait another second. The low trailing tone of his voice disappeared between their lips. He had said only kisses, so it was just that—his hands properly placed on the blanket, not even touching her waist, nor putting his full weight on her. She gradually found it hard to breathe and turned her head to the left; he followed to the left. She turned to the right, and he quickly pursued her there too.

Compared to earlier, this kiss was much gentler.

Cheng Wanyue almost pushed him down to go for another round.

With the air conditioner turned off, the room was getting warm. Qing Hang brushed aside the loose strands of hair on her neck and kissed downward from her chin. “Were they better, or am I better?”

Before she could answer, he added, “You can only choose one.”

Last night before sleep, Cheng Wanyue had asked him whether she looked better with long hair or short hair, using the same tone.

“I’ve never kissed them, so there’s no basis for comparison.”

“But didn’t you date them?”

She snickered, “Who says dating necessarily means kissing or sleeping together? Did I agree to that? Did I nod my head?”

Qing Hang flipped over to sit on the edge of the bed and pulled her up as well. “Let’s wash up and check out so we can go eat breakfast.”

“You can still eat?” Cheng Wanyue’s eyes sparkled with increasingly bright amusement. “I thought you’d already filled up on jealousy.”

Qing Hang ignored her and found a pair of disposable slippers for her feet.

Cheng Wanyue took her time washing. Cheng Yuzhou called her from the airport. Both her hands were wet, and there was water all over the counter, so Qing Hang held the phone for her while she talked.

Yan Ci was still in Beijing. During dinner last night, he had mentioned he would stay for another half month.

After breakfast, Qing Hang took Cheng Wanyue home.

As soon as the door opened, Cheng Wanyue stood at the entrance and shouted, “Cheng Yanqing, congratulations! You’re going to be an uncle! You have a niece! You’ll need to prepare some New Year’s money!”

“What? So fast!” Cheng Yanqing rushed out of his room half-asleep, wearing his slippers the wrong way around, with several strands of hair sticking up on his head. “Say that again! Tell Qing Hang to get over here too!”

Cheng Wanyue brought out a small cat from behind her back. “This is your niece.”

Cheng Yanqing: “…”

It had been the same when Cheng Yuzhou brought Nuomi home that year. He had said on the phone: “Cheng Yanqing, you’re an uncle now. Remember to prepare New Year’s money for my Nuomi.”

That time, Cheng Yanqing had been completely fooled, thinking Cheng Yuzhou and Zhou Yu had a child.

“Sister,” he sighed, “this makes me look very immature.”

Cheng Wanyue smiled. “Isn’t my daughter your niece?”

Being in an unfamiliar environment, Meiqiu was timid. Cheng Yanqing held it with just one hand. “Is it really not Nuomi’s kitten?”

“Nuomi had a spay surgery.”

“Then where did you get this one?”

“Qing Hang gave it to me.”

“Where is he?”

“He got jealous, felt shy, and left,” Cheng Wanyue knew she couldn’t see anything clearly out the window, but she still stood there for a while.

Cheng Yanqing said he didn’t want it, but within a few minutes, he had carried Meiqiu into the house. He had stayed up all night and before going to sleep had ordered a complete set of kitten food and supplies online.

There were many unread messages on her phone. Cheng Wanyue called Zhou Yu back first.

Like Cheng Yuzhou, Zhou Yu’s first question was whether she was happy in Beijing and if she was adjusting to the food.

“I’m doing well, A’Yu, don’t worry about me. You’re busy with work, and it’s tiring to take time off to travel back and forth. Birthdays come every year; it’s not a big deal to miss one,” Cheng Wanyue hadn’t told Zhou Yu before coming to Beijing. She had only informed her family after buying the plane ticket. “Cheng Yuzhou got angry last night.”

“Why?”

“We were eating barbecue at a night market, and some guys whistled at me. He was furious and grabbed a beer bottle to throw at them,” Cheng Wanyue had a good figure and looked hot in anything.

“Did they fight?”

“No, but his hand was bleeding.”

“It’s fine, he knows his limits,” Zhou Yu hadn’t seen Cheng Wanyue for half a year. “Wanyue, what wish did you make?”

Back in school, Cheng Wanyue would always save one birthday wish for Zhou Yu. She wanted to make a lot of money, buy a villa, buy a sports car, and take Zhou Yu, who had never left White City, to watch the flag-raising ceremony at Tiananmen Square in Beijing, to see the salt lake in Qinghai, to eat grapes in Xinjiang.

“First: I hope my friends and family stay healthy. Second: I hope A’Yu and Cheng Yuzhou’s wedding goes smoothly—I want to see you in the most beautiful wedding dress marrying the person you love most. Third: I hope when we’re eighty, we can still go to the park together to buy candy figurines.”

“They’re all related to me.”

“Yes, you’ve saved all your birthday wishes for Cheng Yuzhou, so I need to make up for you,” Cheng Wanyue spoke softly into the phone. “A’Yu, I met with Qing Hang.”

Only her family and Yan Ci knew about her illness. If she didn’t tell, no one would ever tell Qing Hang.

Zhou Yu understood Cheng Wanyue well; she wouldn’t use her illness to make Qing Hang do anything.

“How did you meet?”

“When I first arrived, I found a casual job to pass the time. The manager of that store had a brother, surnamed Zhou, who’s a doctor. He invited us to dinner. I left my keys at his place and went to get them one day, and that’s when I saw Qing Hang at his house.”

Cheng Wanyue couldn’t help but smile remembering their first meeting.

She had secured the very first job she interviewed for. Meng Qi was close with Zhou Heng, and Qing Hang happened to be Zhou Heng’s roommate. If any of these factors had been different, they wouldn’t have met so early.

“What a coincidence,” Zhou Yu marveled. “Beijing is so big, yet you still ran into each other. Perhaps even heaven thinks you shouldn’t be apart and wants you to reconcile.”

“We were together last night. Does that count as reconciliation?”

“You should still make it official. Either Qing Hang says to you, ‘Wanyue, be my girlfriend,’ or you say to him, ‘Qing Hang, be with me.’ That’s how a relationship properly begins.”

Cheng Wanyue thought for a long time before realizing where the problem lay.

The problem started during that week she stayed at Qing Hang’s place, though she hadn’t deliberately seduced him. Everything had happened naturally.

She began to think back to the past, unsure exactly when she stopped disliking Qing Hang’s tutoring. Math was so difficult, physics so dry, English so incomprehensible, yet she could sit at the desk for hours.

That year as deskmates, they were together almost every day.

The first hug, the first hand-holding, the first kiss… many firsts.

But there had never been a formal confession.

Just as there had been no confession at the beginning of their love, there was no goodbye when they parted.