Chapter 61: A Distance of Fifty Centimeters

No wonder she’s started attracting attention.

Bian Yang rested his chin in his palm, gazing at the girl across from him, his fingers tapping idly on the table.

Recently, the girl had regained some color, growing more and more beautiful, like a piece of jade whose brilliance was revealed after the dust was wiped away.

The way Zhou Xunwen looked at her was anything but innocent.

Even with her head down, Tang Yu could feel his gaze falling upon her, making her sip her lemon water a bit uneasily.

She remembered the embarrassing things she’d said when she first went to Bian Yang for help.

It was truly shameful...

Back then, she was desperate—Meng Shirui’s cruelty had escalated with each encounter. Beatings and insults were no longer enough to satisfy Meng Shirui’s rage; she seemed intent on dragging Tang Yu into utter ruin.

Bian Yang was the lifeline Tang Yu reached for when she had nowhere else to turn.

But looking back now, if she’d misjudged Bian Yang, if he hadn’t been trustworthy, she would have merely leapt from one fire into another.

So Tang Yu was profoundly grateful—grateful she’d made the right bet.

“Tang Xiaoyu,” he said.

She swallowed the tangy lemon juice, and looked up at him, her eyes clear and moist, full of puzzlement.

The restaurant was lit with harsh white light, accentuating her already pale skin until it seemed nearly translucent.

The more Bian Yang looked at her, the more he felt she was beautiful.

What would happen once she entered university?

In that place, where boys outnumbered girls, Tang Xiaoyu would be a prized catch, thrown into a den of wolves.

After calling her name, the youth simply stared at her, saying nothing—occasionally frowning, occasionally giving a cold snort...

Tang Yu grew confused and finally asked, “What’s wrong?”

Not only was she pretty, but her voice was soft and pleasing.

Bian Yang pressed his tongue against his molars, a cool mist spreading in his eyes.

He felt the situation was becoming more serious.

“That Zhou Xunwen,” he asked bluntly, “did he confess to you?”

“Ah?”

Tang Yu was momentarily stunned, unable to process the abrupt question.

Bian Yang tapped the table lightly. “He’s not good—his grades aren’t as good as yours, which means he’s not smart; his gaze is evasive, and his face is thin and lacking—he looks like the unfeeling sort. He’s indecisive and arrogant, so his character is lacking. In every way, he’s not the kind of boy you should be around. Stay away from him in the future.”

When did he learn to read faces?

Tang Yu held her lemon water, still a bit dazed. “But he hasn’t... confessed to me.”

“No confession?” He raised his brows slightly.

Tang Yu nodded. “We hardly talk, it’s not like you think.”

“What if he does confess to you?” Bian Yang looked at her.

She wasn’t sure why he was so interested in this, but she answered honestly, “I just want to study hard. I don’t have the mind for anything else.”

Besides, she didn’t like Zhou Xunwen.

“Mm.” Bian Yang nodded, clearly pleased. “And if he spouts sweet words, clings to you shamelessly—what would you do then?”

“...”

His imagination was a bit much.

Besides, Zhou Xunwen didn’t seem like that kind of person. Aside from the Meng Shirui situation, he was well-liked among teachers and classmates, and had never broken school rules.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been voted as the campus heartthrob—well, the previous one, anyway.

Now, on Qingyuan High’s forum, Bian Yang had single-handedly claimed both campus heartthrob and campus bully titles. Tang Yu even voted for him daily...

Seeing her distracted expression, Bian Yang tapped the table with his knuckles, dissatisfied and loud. “What are you thinking about? Focus and answer my question.”

Tang Yu replied, “I don’t think that situation would happen. Zhou Xunwen values his reputation.” Her voice was hesitant. “So it probably won’t happen; you’re overthinking it.”

“You said you don’t know him well, but you know he cares about his image.”

Bian Yang narrowed his eyes at her. “Or are you saying I’m bad-mouthing him behind his back, and you think I’m the problem?!”

“No, no!” She shook her head vigorously, sitting up straighter.

Afraid he’d be upset, she humbly sought advice. “Then how should I respond?”

“Tell him to get lost.”

He was curt and cold. “Just tell him to get lost, understand?”

The girl fell into a strange silence for ten seconds: “...”

Fine, as long as he’s happy.

After all, it was just a hypothetical—something that wouldn’t happen.

“Alright.” She sighed, a bit helpless. “I’ll do as you say.”

Bian Yang smiled slightly, reached across the wide table, and patted her head. “That’s sensible.”

Soon, their food arrived.

Bian Yang always ordered too much, ate a bit, then stopped—as usual, leaving her to finish it.

During their meal, he glanced out the window and spotted a figure under the tree opposite the restaurant. His eyes narrowed dangerously.

Zhou Xunwen hadn’t left, but was waiting nearby.

Obvious intentions.

Fortunately, the girl was oblivious, not realizing someone had their sights set on her.

Bian Yang drew his gaze back from the window and glanced at the girl beside him, who was sipping her juice in small gulps. He spoke:

“Tang Xiaoyu, have you been having trouble with English lately? I have time now, so ask me anything you want.”

Tang Yu thought for a moment—she really did.

The playlist Bian Yang sent her was getting trickier.

And the songs didn’t display lyrics or translations.

At first, the songs were slow and melodic; she could translate one or two a day.

But lately, the songs were fast, difficult, and obscure. She’d listened to one over a hundred times, and after two days, still couldn’t get it right.

So when Bian Yang brought it up, she immediately frowned. “Those songs are too hard. I can’t even make out the words, let alone translate them.”

Even if she caught a few words, she couldn’t piece them into sentences, much less translate them fully and capture the meaning.

“Oh, let me see.”

Bian Yang stood up but, after a moment, sat back down and tapped the seat next to him. “Come here, show me.”

The restaurant booth was a spacious loveseat, easily fitting four people.

Tang Yu, sitting opposite, wanted to say he could check the playlist on his own phone.

But Bian Yang explained, “I cleared my cache recently, so all my records are gone.”

“Oh.”

She rose and sat at his right side.

The restaurant was fairly quiet, so she took out her earphones to avoid disturbing others.

She wore the left earbud, handing the right to him.

Bian Yang raised his eyebrows, took it, and put it on.

The cord stretched fifty centimeters from left ear to right ear.

That was the distance between them now.

Fifty centimeters—her shoulder nearly touched his arm.

Fifty centimeters—a careless move and they’d feel each other’s warmth.

Bian Yang lowered his gaze, clearly seeing her long lashes and pale slender neck.

The girl’s eyelashes curled downward as she unlocked her phone, found the challenging English song, and pressed play.

The lively rhythm echoed for both of them in that moment.