Confrontation

“Good morning?”

Was Jiang Ci doing well? She was not doing well at all.

The moment she saw Lu Yan, her first reaction was—as expected, she had overslept. Her second reaction was, it's, it's, it's... and then her mind completely jammed.

But she couldn't help it. Her brain right now was like a graphics card running a game on maximum settings; it had completely fried.

Last night, she had imagined many scenarios—Lu Yan waking up later than her, allowing her to slip away quietly and pretend nothing happened; Lu Yan waking up earlier but pretending to sleep, allowing her to slip away quietly and pretend nothing happened; or Lu Yan waking up earlier and sneaking off, allowing her to pretend nothing happened.

All of her contingency plans had one common prerequisite: she had to wake up before him, or he had to not be there.

There was no option for “he woke up, was still holding her, and even said good morning.” This wasn't right, was it? The script wasn't supposed to go like this.

And so, with her brain severely overloaded, she closed her eyes.

Yes, she closed her eyes. She let her head drop, burying it right back into Lu Yan's chest. It landed exactly on the patch of fabric soaked by her drool. The cool sensation against her face seemed to remind her that this was not a dream. She knew it wasn't a dream, but she chose to treat it as one anyway.

Faced with the choice between rationalizing her awakening and running away in embarrassment, our Little Jiang chose an obtuse angle.

Lu Yan looked down at Jiang Ci's head, his lips twitching.

Strands of silver-white hair were scattered across his chest, rising and falling gently with her breath. Her face was buried in his chest, hidden from view, concealing her expression. However, her ears were completely red, flushed from the lobes to the tips, looking as if they were about to bleed.

So was she awake or not? She was absolutely awake! Her eyelids were shut, and she had dropped her head on her own. If this wasn't playing dead, what was?

He thought to himself. If they kept lying like this, his arm was going to break. He wasn't Astro Boy. If she kept pressing down on it, he might actually need an amputation.

He looked down at her fake-sleeping head. The silver-white hair was scattered messily across his chest, with a stray strand brushing against his chin, tickling him slightly with every breath she took.

Her ears were still red, but maybe she was starting to recover a bit? It wasn't as visually shocking as the sudden rush of blood from earlier. Lu Yan thought.

Her acting skills were terrible—he knew she was pretending. But he didn't call her out. After all, Lu Yan didn't even dare to think about what he would have to face if he did.

He suddenly felt that amputation might not be so bad. Mostly because he was worried Yao Wu would be too lonely, you know? It absolutely wasn't because he wanted to avoid embarrassment. Yao Wu was missing an arm, and if he lost one too, they would make a perfect pair. It would actually be quite companionable when he thought about it.

Just as he was mentally preparing himself with the thought that “amputation isn't that scary,” the door flew open.

Yao Wu stood at the doorway, squinting. He was shirtless, wearing only a pair of large boxer shorts, with his hair resembling a messy bird's nest and pillow creases still pressed into his face. He had clearly just woken up as well.

“You rebellious son, get up and eat!”

At that moment, a mushroom cloud rose inside Lu Yan's mind.

“Holy shit!!!”

Paling in fright, he grabbed the blanket and yanked it over them with lightning speed. The blanket unfurled in the air and fell, completely covering both him and Jiang Ci.

Standing at the doorway, Yao Wu took a direct hit to the face from Lu Yan's pillow.

His brain, which usually seemed to be filled with water, suddenly drained completely at this moment—his intelligence had reclaimed the high ground.

Pulling the pillow off his face, his eyes focused. There seemed to be the outlines of two people under the blanket.

He took two steps back. A sudden emergency stop. Eyes closed. Slammed the door shut. The three actions were performed in one smooth motion. Then, he goose-stepped right back downstairs.

“I didn't see anything!”

The corners of Yao Wu's mouth curved upward. How wonderful. His son had finally grown up and learned how to steal a cabbage...

Lu Yan lay on the bed with the blanket still over his head. He heard Yao Wu's footsteps grow more distant before finally fading away.

He could feel the person on his chest trembling uncontrollably.

Lu Yan lay there expressionless, staring into the darkness of the blanket's underside.

His life was completely over.

His arm could finally move. He wasn't sure if it was because of his sudden tug earlier or because Jiang Ci had let go herself. In any case, he slowly pulled the completely numb arm out from under her and placed it outside the blanket to let the blood circulate again. A pins-and-needles sensation spread from his fingertips to his shoulder, but now was not the time to focus on relieving poor circulation.

He slowly pulled back the blanket.

The morning light filtered through the gaps, illuminating Jiang Ci's face.

She was red all over. From her face to her neck, from her neck to her ears, and from her ears to the collarbone peeking out of her collar, everything was completely flushed. Her silver-white hair lay scattered over her shoulders, contrasting with the red like a sundae drizzled with strawberry syrup.

She kept her head down, not daring to look at him. Her fingers clutched the hem of her clothes so tightly that her knuckles turned white, wrinkling the fabric into a ball in her palm.

“So,” he began, “how did we end up sleeping in the same bed?”

...

Taking a deep breath, she began to speak. Word by word, she recounted every single detail to him with perfect accuracy. If she were to open a storytelling teahouse, business would probably be booming...

Sitting on the bed, Lu Yan listened. His expression shifted from “shock” to “disbelief,” from “disbelief” to “ashen despair,” and finally from “ashen despair” to “what the fuck did I do.”

He couldn't listen anymore. Overwhelmed by extreme embarrassment, he slammed his fist hard against the headboard.

With a loud bang, the headboard shook...

Sitting on the chair, Jiang Ci shrank back in fright. She stared at the spot Lu Yan had struck, clutching her hem, her voice lacking confidence.

“You... don't hit the bed. If it breaks, we have to pay for it, and I don't have any money left...”

Her voice grew smaller and smaller until it was barely audible.

Lu Yan was so angry he almost laughed. Was the bed really the issue right now? His hand clearly needed more concern than the bed, okay?

Grimacing, he shook his fist—did damn Hua Er spend a fortune on this furniture? His hand hurt so much!

His physical pain, combined with his internal fury, condensed into a near-tangible murderous intent. He suddenly felt an urgent need for a bottle of weedkiller. He often felt powerless for not studying chemistry properly—he really, truly needed a strong herbicide!

He saw Jiang Ci sitting nearby. The stray thoughts in his mind seemed to fade away once more...

She kept her head lowered, her silver-white hair draping down to cover half of her face. Her ears were still slightly red, but they were much better, with only the tips retaining a trace of light pink.

All of his emotions became stuck in his throat.

He fell silent. She remained silent as well.

The two of them just sat there, one on the bed and one on the chair, separated by a distance of just over a foot.

The light outside the window grew a bit brighter. The golden sunbeams had already crept from the middle of the blanket to the foot of the bed.

“I'm sorry.”

“Mm.”

Lu Yan lowered his head and stared at his hand, but he wasn't really looking at it. A single thought was spinning in his mind—he could not live here anymore.

He needed to move. He needed to move to a private place where no one could barge in at any moment...

He had to pay back Hua Er's money. How much did they owe? He wasn't entirely sure. Whenever he asked Jiang Ci, she would never tell him, saying she would pay it back and that he shouldn't worry. What a joke. How pathetic would he have to be to let Jiang Ci pay the debt? This money had to come from him.

But before that, he had to get some money first...

His outer robe was draped over the rack at the foot of the bed. The morning light filtered through the cracks in the window, falling on the folds of the fabric. The slip of paper was right inside the inner pocket of that robe, with an address written on it.

At this moment, that opportunity became burning hot.