Cheng Wanyue’s stamina wasn’t good. After jumping and bouncing around in the heavy mascot costume, her forehead was damp with sweat, and her cheeks flushed with healthy color.

The dim yellow light from the streetlamps scattered like tiny starlight falling into her eyes.

Qing Hang wanted to kiss her badly. He did.

But his mouth tasted of cigarettes, and he didn’t want her to dislike him.

The cigarette pack was still almost full. Qing Hang picked up the mascot costume Cheng Wanyue had just removed, and while collecting the sparklers, he also grabbed the cigarettes and lighter from the bench.

“You can keep the lighter, but no smoking,” Cheng Wanyue pinched the cigarette pack and pulled it from his hand, stuffing it into her bag. While he was momentarily distracted, she stood on tiptoe and gave him a quick kiss. “No smoking when you’re with me.”

Qing Hang nodded. “Mm.”

Cheng Wanyue frowned. “What does ‘mm’ mean?”

Qing Hang took her hand and walked toward the light. “I won’t smoke anymore.”

She followed half a step behind. “This bear costume is borrowed. I need to return it to the owner.”

“How did you manage to borrow it?” He remembered the toy store owner nearby had a rather bad temper. He occasionally saw the owner arguing with people on his way to and from work.

“He didn’t want money and wouldn’t sell it. I gave him a big bag of sweet tangerines, said a few nice words, and he agreed.”

When they went to the store to return the costume, the owner was still eating tangerines, greeting them with a smile.

No one could dislike her.

After arriving home, Cheng Wanyue entered first. The aroma of food overwhelmed the cream scent. She couldn’t remember if she had packed the cake in a box before leaving. After turning on the lights and confirming that Qing Hang wouldn’t discover it too quickly, she stepped aside to make room for him to change his shoes.

Meiqiu was good at being affectionate. As soon as the door opened, it jumped down from the sofa and wandered around Qing Hang’s feet.

Cheng Wanyue found the lighter in her bag and secretly hid it behind her back.

She said she was thirsty, so Qing Hang went to the kitchen to boil water. She took this opportunity to bring out the cake and light the candles.

Meiqiu nearly stepped on the cake with one paw. Even when she held it in her arms, it remained restless.

The living room was quiet. From the sounds, Qing Hang could tell that Cheng Wanyue was lecturing Meiqiu. While she was uninhibited, whenever she lectured the cat, she had a whole set of principles.

After he finished pouring the water and turned to leave the kitchen, the living room lights suddenly went out. In the darkness, only the flickering flames remained.

Cheng Wanyue sat on a cushion, holding the cat, singing him a birthday song.

When he was young, his family was poor. In his memory, every birthday night, his parents would cook an extra egg with dinner. Later, they couldn’t afford even the egg, and his birthday became just an ordinary day.

During those years in Baicheng, he would return to the village early to burn paper money and kowtow at his mother’s grave.

Over the years, he had forgotten that his mother’s death anniversary was also his birthday.

“Qing Hang, happy birthday,” Cheng Wanyue pulled him to the coffee table. “Make a wish.”

He looked somewhat absent. “I don’t have a wish.”

“Then… wish for something you want most right now,” Cheng Wanyue suggested. “How can anyone truly want nothing? Think again—like your year-end bonus doubling, passing your professional title exam smoothly, publishing your paper quickly, and so on.”

Before the candles burned out, Qing Hang finally spoke. “Just be healthy.”

He repeated softly, “Just you being healthy is enough.”

Cheng Wanyue reminded him with a smile to blow out the candles, or the wax would drip onto the cake and ruin it.

“You don’t have to eat these dishes if you don’t want to, but you must have a piece of cake.”

“Did you make it?”

“…Does it look that bad?”

“For a first attempt, it’s already very good.”

“It’s not my first try. I’ve made many attempts, and this is the best-looking one.” Cheng Wanyue probably didn’t have talent in this area. She indeed didn’t enjoy cooking or making desserts. “Do you remember that year in high school, when I tricked you into coming to my house? That was my first attempt, several times uglier than this one.”

Of course, Qing Hang remembered. That day, he had walked a very long way.

Time might not remember these things, but he kept them in his heart.

“You said… You went out with others, forgot to do your homework, and wanted me to help you write it.”

“I was lying. I spent the whole day working on that cake—how could I have gone out? Homework? I’d been scolded for not submitting homework many times before, one more wouldn’t matter. But I didn’t know it was your mother’s death anniversary then, and I didn’t know you had gone back to the village. I waited for you, but you never came, so I threw the cake away. Qing Hang, if Auntie were still alive, she would certainly want you to be happy. A mother would never hold such things against her son, nor would she blame you for celebrating your birthday. It’s not wrong.”

“It wasn’t my fault.”

“Of course it wasn’t your fault. Doctors aren’t gods. You did your best.”

She had asked Qing Hang’s colleagues at the hospital. That elderly scavenger’s condition was indeed too severe to be helped. Every day was painful for him; passing away was a kind of release.

“Try it,” Cheng Wanyue cut a piece of cake. “Eat the cake, and your wish will come true.”

Qing Hang ate slowly, finishing one piece and cutting another. “It’s delicious.”

“Don’t eat too much. Is it too sweet? Want some red wine?” Cheng Wanyue got up to fetch glasses.

The air was filled with the sweetness of cream and the rich aroma of red wine, masking his cigarette smell. Only when very close could one detect a hint of it, not enough to make her uncomfortable.

After seeing the elderly man off, he had freshened up in the hospital break room; his collar was slightly damp.

Cheng Wanyue reached up to wipe a drop of cream from his chin. With one finger raised, she pointed to the wine bottle on the table. “I’d like a sip too.”

Qing Hang looked at her, then tilted his head back to finish the remaining red wine in the bottle. As the bottle fell to the floor, he leaned in to kiss her.

The bottle rolled to the corner, and she couldn’t support the weight of both of them as they fell onto the sofa.

She didn’t like doing it on the sofa, and Meiqiu was still nearby.

Qing Hang found a condom in the drawer, picked it up, and took a few steps into the bedroom. The brief separation made him urgent; the door closed with a heavy sound.

He couldn’t even wait to reach the bed. Right against the door, he removed all her clothes. She turned her head to breathe as he gripped her waist, pressing her against the door.

Hot kisses fell on her back. Her nipples ached from rubbing against the door. Cheng Wanyue reached back with one hand to push him away, but he caught it, intertwining their fingers.

Her legs weakened, almost knelt to the ground.

He was like a broken glass, sanding down his own sharp, jagged edges before embracing her.

Her body slid down along the door. At this moment, she hadn’t yet realized how dangerous her situation was until Qing Hang knelt behind her, slowly entering her. She felt as if she was pinned to the door, with no room left to struggle.

Her limbs were tightly bound by invisible ropes, and even the surrounding air became a burden pressing on her. Her hands, sweaty against the door, were sliding down weakly.

The member buried inside her began to move, each thrust grinding against her most vulnerable spot. Her nerves reflexively trembled slightly—the strongest reaction she could muster.

“Qing Hang…” She couldn’t endure even five minutes.

“Don’t cry.” his kisses traveled from the nape of her neck to the corner of her lips. His muffled voice mixed with her soft cries. “I know. Soon.”

The already deeply embedded flesh suddenly thrust forcefully inward. In the darkness, only heavy, turbid breathing and the crisp sound of bodies slapping together remained.

She couldn’t muster any strength. Her fingers and toes curled tightly. Her knees knocked against the door with each movement. This pain wasn’t enough to offset even a tenth of the crazy surging pleasure. Barely catching her breath, whimpering cries escaped between her teeth, sounding like a cat’s meow.

Her climax came violently. Her consciousness scattered, yet the soft flesh enveloping him still contracted spasmodically by instinct.

He had said it would end quickly, but it seemed endless.

Her nerves were numb, yet she still couldn’t resist the waves of pleasure washing over her. His lips and teeth roamed her nape, as if wanting to bite open a passage to drain her blood.

She wanted to ask: Qing Hang, what are you afraid of?

But she could only open her mouth, unable to make a sound.

Before he released her, she had already fallen into unconsciousness.

When she woke, she felt fresh—she must have been bathed—but every part of her body was sore and aching. The room was dark, indicating dawn hadn’t yet broken. As for why she suddenly awoke from her sleep, Qing Hang knew best.

Passionate kisses couldn’t conceal the desire still unabated in his body. Even in her unconscious state, her most sensitive areas, when teased, secreted warm fluids that slowly flowed from her entrance. Her labia were slightly swollen and reddened. He was like holding a melting piece of butter—substantial, yet seemingly ready to dissolve in his mouth with the gentlest press of his tongue.

The calf resting on his shoulder moved slightly. He knew she was awake and climbed up from under the covers.

Holding her ankle and pushing upward, his tongue pried open her lightly closed teeth to explore inside. His painfully hard member was also slowly invading her body.

Her nerves awakened, tingling pleasure shooting up from the base of her spine. She could feel the process of her passage being stretched open.

His self-control had collapsed long before he undid her first button. He had waited too long. With just a slightly harder thrust, her inner walls suddenly tightened as if in a stress response.

“Qing Hang… don’t be so rough… gentler…” Her voice was hoarse.

He could hear her, but couldn’t comply.

He wanted every inch of her skin to be imbued with his scent.

“Cheng Wanyue, love me a little more.”

The sky was faintly brightening. She slept quietly beside him, tears still hanging at the corners of her eyes. Qing Hang felt as if he had dreamed, but could see nothing.

Cheng Wanyue woke up late. It was the first time that she was awake while Qing Hang was still sleeping.

There was a purple-red mark on his chin, probably where she had bitten him. His shoulders were also in a pitiful state, scratched by her nails, making her seem like a sadist, when he was the one inflicting pain.

She had slept enough; surely he had slept enough, too?

“It hurts,” she winced just from moving slightly, her knees uncomfortable.

When Qing Hang lifted the covers and sat up, his eyes weren’t fully open yet. “Where does it hurt?”

“Everywhere! All over!” Cheng Wanyue painfully raised one leg, pointing at the bruise on her knee as irrefutable evidence of how brutal he had been the night before. “Look what you’ve done. I’m nearly crippled.”

The sleepy haze in Qing Hang’s eyes gradually cleared. He took her foot and kissed her calf. “I’m not working tomorrow either. I’ll take care of you wholeheartedly.”

She deliberately found fault. “Why do you make me sound like a shrew? Affecting your mood, and even affecting your work and income.”

He leaned closer to kiss her, his voice falling into her ear with a smile. “A beautiful shrew.”

“How dare you say that about me!”

“I’m saying you’re beautiful.”

“You’re clearly saying I’m fierce.”

“What use is fierceness? Going to battle with a milk bottle—not much fighting power.”

“You! You! You! You dare to mock me! Just you wait!”

During their playful banter, she took the opportunity to ask, “Qing Hang, what was the wish you didn’t say out loud last night?”

The previous night, after Qing Hang stated his first wish, Cheng Wanyue had covered his mouth, telling him to silently make a wish in his heart.

“Didn’t you say that speaking a wish aloud would make it not come true?”

“That was yesterday. Today, you can tell me.”

He closed his eyes and thought for a moment. “I want you to stay with me forever.”

“How long is forever?”

“A very, very long time.”

“And the other one?”

“That’s it. There’s nothing else.”

Once, what Qing Hang saw in the Mirror of Erised was Cheng Wanyue.

Now, what Qing Hang saw was himself and Cheng Wanyue together.