Chapter 53: This Is a Natural Phenomenon, Understand?

Curled up under the covers, she listened to English songs through her headphones. Sure enough, after chatting for half an hour, sleepiness crept in. The girl's eyelids drooped drowsily, as if they were about to stick together, her head nodding with fatigue.

She had intended to fight off sleep long enough to send him a "Good night," typing letter by letter with her fingertips, but somewhere in the midst of it all, she dozed off, her mind foggy.

Her phone screen was still lit, the English song continued to play in her ears.

"It'll always be easy for me,
Forever 'til the end
When there's nothing left,
I got you and you got me."

Loving you is so easy for me,
Forever and ever, until the very end, even if the mountains crumble,
I have you, and you have me.

Her long, softly curled lashes fluttered gently. She snuggled deeper into the blanket, as if wrapped in immense security, her breathing gradually growing steady and even.

For a long time, there was no reply from her.

Bian Yang’s slender, jointed hand rested on the arm of the sofa, tapping lightly again and again. After a moment he straightened up from the sofa. Outside, the rain was easing, but the sky looked as if ink had been spilled across it.

A minute passed; Bian Yang lowered his head to look at his phone again. Out of habit, his hand reached into his pocket for a cigarette, but finding nothing, he remembered that not only the cigarettes, but the lighter and ashtray too, had all been thrown into the trash.

He leaned his tall frame against the balcony’s glass, raising his eyes toward the bedroom. In the dim light, the boy’s face was blurred at the edges where light and shadow met. The messy fringe fell over his dark eyes as he stared unblinkingly in that direction, unconsciously licking his lips.

She hadn’t replied for so long—had she fainted from exhaustion?

She was so thin, looking malnourished; it was entirely possible. Otherwise, she couldn’t possibly be so heartless as to fall asleep without sending him so much as a "Good night."

Bian Yang spent a dozen seconds convincing himself of this, slipped his phone into his pocket, and walked toward the bedroom.

It was his own room—he’d been in and out hundreds of times—but this time he paused at the door. He knocked softly first.

No response. He lowered his voice, "Tang Xiaoyu?"

"Did you pass out, or are you just asleep?"

Still no sound.

His hand gripped the doorknob. She never locked the door, even though he'd told her to; a gentle twist and it opened.

The small orange bedside lamp was still glowing.

At the edge of the bed, a pair of pale feet peeked out, along with a hand still clutching her phone.

She was curled up like a cashew, taking up only a tiny patch of the bed, hugging the quilt to her chest. Most of her delicate, pretty face was buried in the blanket. The exposed forehead reflected the soft halo of the lamp. Her long hair spread across the pillow, black and lustrous, like silk.

Bian Yang walked over quietly, squinting to examine the bluish bruises on her feet—probably caused by the commotion earlier.

She didn’t even make a sound.

He picked up the ointment from the bedside table, bent down, and as he leaned closer, he caught the same scent of shower gel that lingered on himself.

He gently applied the ointment to her fair ankle, then tucked her feet back under the covers.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed her phone screen was still lit.

It was playing the same English songs he’d sent her.

The screen was still on the chat page, with a single, unsent character in the message box—just "Good..."

So, she wasn’t completely heartless.

A soft smile spread across Bian Yang’s lips. He removed the earphones from her ears, placed them and the phone on the bedside table, and tucked her exposed arm under the quilt as well.

But as if in defiance, her arm slipped right out again.

She was sleeping soundly enough, though.

He tucked it in again, but it slid out once more.

Bian Yang couldn’t help but laugh in exasperation. With cool fingertips, he deliberately traced her open palm.

That slight tickle made her hand curl back under the covers.

She shifted restlessly beneath the blanket, but a moment later, her breathing was even. She nestled deep into the quilt, drifting once more into sweet sleep.

Incredible.

So, in the end, he was the only one left lying awake.

The boy gazed at her slender form for a while, his eyes lowered.

He turned off the bedside lamp and left the room quietly, closing the door behind him.

—

Tang Yu’s biological clock was precise. No matter how late she went to bed, she always woke up automatically around half past five.

She stretched in bed, yawned, and opened her eyes. Seeing the unfamiliar room, she was confused for half a second before remembering she was in Bian Yang’s room.

She pushed herself up, and recalling how she’d fallen asleep without realizing it, began searching the bed for her phone.

She finally spotted her phone and earphones on the bedside table and blinked in surprise.

Had she remembered wrong?

She unlocked her phone. The chat interface was still open, with the unsent "Good..." lingering there.

She paused, a little dazed, when suddenly her phone vibrated—a message from the parents’ group chat, prompting her to switch to the main page.

The homeroom teacher had tagged everyone in the group:

"Due to yesterday’s heavy rainfall, some first-floor classrooms, the school playground, and the main roads outside are flooded. For students’ safety, classes are canceled today. Boarding students should stay in their dorms and only go out to the dining hall for meals, otherwise do not leave. Day students, please wait for further notice before returning to school. Parents, please be aware."

This was a group for parents, but Tang Yu’s grandparents were elderly and didn’t use WeChat, so she was in the group instead.

No school today, then.

Tang Yu regretted not bringing a few more test papers to work on.

For once, she lingered in bed, rubbing her cheek against the pillow before sliding down to go wash up.

She opened the door quietly and peeked through the gap.

He seemed to still be asleep.

Bian Yang had gone to bed late last night and was now deeply asleep—one arm bent to cover his eyes from the light, the other draped carelessly beside the sofa, his long legs stretched out, one propped on the low table.

From this angle, she could clearly see the cool pale line of his throat.

His collar was loose, and just below it, a faint mole rested on his elegant collarbone.

The blanket had somehow slipped entirely to the floor; he wasn’t covered at all.

In Liangcheng, it could be hot in the sun, but on overcast days, it was especially chilly.

He would definitely catch a cold like this.

She tiptoed over, bent down, and picked up the blanket, intending to cover him.

But as she draped the blanket over him, she glanced down by chance and saw a certain obvious change.

Well...

A change that was perfectly visible to the naked eye.

Impossible to ignore.

At first, Tang Yu didn’t understand; then she panicked, tossed the blanket over him, turned quickly, and tripped over the low table, landing on the floor with a muffled grunt.

The boy on the sofa was roused by the noise. He frowned, moved his arm from his eyes, and blinked at the light.

It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust before he squinted over at her.

"Tang Xiaoyu, what are you doing?"

His voice was low and husky, still tinged with sleep.

A flush of embarrassment swept through the girl’s eyes; she lowered her head, a faint blush rising on her fair cheeks.

"N-nothing, sorry, I woke you up."

She scrambled up and fled to the bathroom without looking back, closing the door behind her.

Bian Yang stared at the door for a moment, then looked down at the blanket on his body.

When realization dawned, he pulled the blanket tightly around himself, inhaling quietly as he covered his abdomen.

Some knowledge, he thought, was one thing to read in books, another to witness firsthand.

Tang Yu splashed water on her flushed face, her heart pounding uncontrollably.

She dawdled over washing up, and half an hour had passed by the time she finished.

"Tang Xiaoyu, how much longer are you going to be in there? Come out," the boy’s slightly hoarse voice called from outside.

It was five more minutes before she came out.

Bian Yang was lounging on the sofa, his hair still uncombed, falling messily over his eyes.

His lazy gaze landed on her awkward face and lingered, but he spoke calmly.

"This is a natural phenomenon, you know."

Tang Yu didn’t reply, looking off to the side with her hands clenched together.

"It’s just like how girls have their period. Boys… have morning—" He paused, then explained, "Do you understand?"

"So, I wasn’t being a pervert—this can’t be helped, got it?"