Li Kuiyi: “…”

What would she want to pinch his face for? It wouldn’t hurt, it wouldn’t sting — it would do absolutely nothing to vent her frustration. It would be far more satisfying to slap him.

She thought this, and quietly, unthinkingly, clenched her fist.

He was bent forward, his face tilted slightly upward, exposed without defence under the warm amber glow of the street lamp. It had to be said — this face was genuinely beautiful. His dark, cropped hair stirred in the night breeze, giving it a soft, downy quality. His eyes were gently closed, his lashes trembling faintly. He was perhaps a little nervous too — his lips were pressed together, his jawline taut, clean and sharp.

Perhaps because he was so close, she suddenly became aware of his quiet, shallow breathing, the fine, barely visible down on his face, the faint scent of bluebell laundry detergent drifting from him. In that one moment, she was abruptly struck by the vivid, burning aliveness of the person standing before her.

It was the first time Li Kuiyi had ever felt this way about He Youyuan.

She felt as though she had known him for a very long time, and yet also as though she had barely begun to know him. She couldn’t even recall the exact moment he had officially stepped into the course of her life — blustering in with fangs and claws, drifting through her world with unruly energy, clumsily knocking things over left and right, a clattering, haphazard mess — and yet leaving behind the vivid, undeniable trace of something alive.

Do you know? It is because our lives have crossed paths that, within my heart, you have come to possess something like a life of your own.

Every day I cross paths with hundreds upon thousands of people of every shape and kind. Sometimes we pass each other on the school grounds; sometimes we walk parallel for a stretch on the same street; sometimes we even catch each other’s eyes in hurried, fleeting glances. But in each other’s eyes, our features flash by, blurred and indistinct. They are the background characters in a world centred on me — like the faceless silhouettes behind the protagonist in a comic book, with no features, only outlines, blank, expressionless, devoid of colour, of language, of thought.

I know their lives are each their own, vibrant and full. But it is a sorry truth: I cannot possibly come to know and understand every person in this world, and so to me, their souls are destined to remain without warmth. Just as to them, I am nothing but a shadow, a set of lines — or perhaps nothing at all.

But He Youyuan was a piece of a puzzle.

Three years ago, when she had first encountered him, he had helped her in that one small way, and she had simply and purely decided that he was a good person — as though she had stumbled upon a fragment of him by accident, and assumed it was all of him.

Now she had gathered more fragments, but they no longer came together into a complete picture — not out of pessimism, but because she realised she could no longer sum him up with a single word the way she once had with “good person.”

The image of him in her eyes had grown clearer and more vivid with each passing day. And yet she still couldn’t say whether this was a fortunate thing, or not.

Li Kuiyi let her thoughts drift for a long while, faintly dazed — until the person before her, having waited in silence for some time, suddenly opened his eyes. The light of the street lamp poured down and gathered in an instant in those dark, luminous irises, like the still surface of a deep pool catching the full expanse of stars above — and her, within it.

He paused too.

Perhaps only two seconds passed before both of them swiftly turned their eyes away. But somehow those two seconds felt exceptionally long, like passing alone through a long, dim, quiet tunnel — making one hold one’s breath involuntarily, afraid to disturb something, afraid to disturb oneself.

“Do you still think I’m not sincere?” He Youyuan straightened up, looking slightly ill at ease, his tone stiff.

Li Kuiyi collected herself, her expression unchanged: “Yes.”

“Tsk, you really are… difficult,” He Youyuan muttered with a sullen face. He thought the prickly pineapple was being rather oblivious to her own good fortune. After all, this face of his had never been offered for pinching by any other girl — and she didn’t even have the grace to appreciate it.

So difficult to deal with. Whoever ended up with her as a girlfriend was going to have his sympathy.

He simply gave up all pretence, lifted his chin at her, and said in a carelessly casual tone: “I get it — you’ve got it in for me specifically, don’t you? My apology won’t do, treating you to food won’t do, letting you pinch my face won’t do either. Whatever I try, it’s no good — you’ve just got a problem with me and you’re deliberately making things difficult…”

His voice was low, but the tone had an edge to it — syllable by syllable they stuck together in an aggrieved, petulant cluster.

Li Kuiyi: “…”

Could you pay attention to how you’re speaking? Listen to yourself — you sound exactly like you’re throwing a tantrum.

In the end, He Youyuan was completely out of ideas. He simply thrust his arm out in front of her. “Then let you hit me — will that work?”

Li Kuiyi really did want to hit him, and since he’d brought it up himself, she wasn’t going to hold back. She looked down and flexed her fingers slightly.

He Youyuan hadn’t actually expected her to take him up on it. His throat bobbed, and with the air of someone accepting their fate, he extended his left hand. His hand, like the rest of him, was slender and lean, thin skin over faintly raised tendons, full of vigour and quiet strength, a black watch on his left wrist.

Li Kuiyi felt not the slightest twinge of mercy on account of how nice the hand looked. She raised her palm high, and with a sharp smack, brought it down without hesitation into He Youyuan’s outstretched palm.

“…”

Ow. That hurt!

Li Kuiyi’s hand instantly went numb from the impact. The stinging pain shot from her palm straight to the top of her skull and nearly shook tears from her eyes.

How could this happen!

As a student whose physics mark placed her first in the year group, she had truly managed to learn Newton’s third law all the way into a dog’s stomach.

He Youyuan, meanwhile, had barely registered any pain.

The instant she’d struck, he’d actually squeezed one eye shut in apprehension. But it turned out to be all thunder and no rain — after that crisp crack of sound, all he felt was a faint sting and a residual warmth.

He’d assumed the prickly pineapple had gone easy on him, but in that split second he had caught the flash of genuine pain crossing Li Kuiyi’s face.

Well, that’s spitting into the wind — she’d brought it entirely on herself.

Impressive, really, for the school’s top-ranked student — she didn’t know that forces act in pairs? She’d gone in that hard?

He Youyuan wanted to make fun of her, but the corner of his lips hovered for a moment and in the end wouldn’t quite lift. He looked down at her, his gaze steady and warm, with a touch of helplessness: “Does it hurt?”

Li Kuiyi swiftly rearranged her expression and said breezily: “Not at all.” Then she deliberately raised her eyes to him and asked: “You? Does it hurt?”

Stubborn to the bone.

He Youyuan gave a quiet, inward snort, but shoved his hand into his uniform pocket and said: “A bit — you’ve got a good strong swing.”

Li Kuiyi felt a slight sense of equilibrium restored.

Good — as long as he felt something too. If only she had been hurting on her own, that would have been absolutely maddening.

She slipped her hand into her own pocket too, rubbing her palm gently against the fabric, trying to ease the burning pain. She sniffed, then composed her expression again.

Goodness, what is there to be stubborn about, He Youyuan thought, watching her small movements. He couldn’t help but sigh quietly.

If she had any sense of things, she would have arranged her face into something pitiful right about now, and he might actually have felt sorry for her. But no — she had to keep up this indomitable front, which made it impossible for him to help even if he wanted to.

Most of the small shops near the school gate had already closed for the night. Only one egg-stuffed pancake stall was in the final stages of packing up. He Youyuan said “wait a moment,” walked straight over, and came back with two ice-cold cans of cola.

The weather had turned cool enough that drinking something cold was a bit much, but something cold and icy in the hand would feel soothing.

He held one out to her: “You’ve hit me, so you must have let off some steam by now. If you’ve forgiven me, let’s clink cans and call it even.”

Li Kuiyi said nothing. She took the cola with an expressionless face, pulled the tab — psst, the bubbles rose — and gave his can a simple clink.

The coldness of the can seeped through to her palm and relieved a good deal of the pain.

He Youyuan took a small sip of cola, felt the carbonation fizzing through his mouth, swallowed it with a soft gulp, and assumed an air of complete composure. He swung the can loosely in one hand and said: “Come on then — I’ll walk you home.”

Li Kuiyi gave him an odd look: “No need, I can get back on my own.”

“It’s almost eleven o’clock.” He turned his wrist to check the time. “You stayed this late because of me. I’m at least obligated to make sure you get home safely, aren’t I?”

Then, slightly awkwardly, he rubbed his nose with the back of his fist: “I don’t mean anything else by it. I’d do the same for anyone — doesn’t have to be you.”