The wind drifted into the bedroom through the half-open window, carrying the unique chill of an autumn night.
Cheng Qiuqiu sat against the headboard, a sketchpad resting on her knees, fingers holding a graphite pencil.
The pencil tip scratched softly across the paper—shh shh—as a figure slowly took shape.
Short tousled hair, a turtleneck sweater, a calm and gentle expression...
The play of light and shadow couldn't hide the artistic temperant in the sketch.
When she reached the eyes, her hand suddenly stopped.
The pencil hovered in mid-air, hesitating to land.
She lowered her head, staring at the half-ford features with a dim expression.
In her mind, mories ca flooding back uncontrollably—
Their chance encounter at the dealership, the hand he extended to help her up, the rush of air during their test ride, the closeness on the bus, his smile during hotpot, their shopping trip...
Qiuqiu stood there dazed for a long ti before finally putting down the pencil and walking slowly to the window.
She crossed her arms and gently pressed her forehead to the cold glass, gazing down at the street through the night.
The streets were quiet and indistinct, only an occasional flash of headlights passing through.
“Tang Song...”
She whispered the na, followed by a long sigh.
She opened her crossbody bag and pulled out a lipstick.
It was the one Tang Song had bought for her earlier that day while they were shopping.
It wasn’t expensive—just sothing from a little roadside shop, maybe a few dozen yuan.
Yet it had made her heart race for the rest of the day.
Like the candy her grandma used to give her when she was little.
Qiuqiu gently brushed her thumb over the lipstick cap. A soft smile tugged at her lips—then quickly faded.
When had she started liking him?
She tried to recall, to pinpoint a specific mont, but realized it had been a gradual thing.
eting him at Microglow Café, supporting Su Yu in Modu, their bike ride through the ancient town, Lingling’s birthday party, Songi Apparel...
Every ti she thought their story had ended, they would run into each other again sowhere.
Even Qiuqiu had to admit—they really did have a kind of fate.
Maybe she had liked him for a while now.
Why else would she have agreed to sit behind him on that bike ride?
But her long-standing psychological and physical issues made her instinctively resist those feelings.
Especially after realizing the connection between him and her senior.
She had tried to crush those thoughts with sheer will, to block out such unrealistic emotions.
But the more she suppressed them, the stronger they bounced back.
Qiuqiu bit her lip hard.
Gao ngting deeply valued friendship—especially after being betrayed. When it ca to trust, she was even more sensitive.
Qiuqiu really didn’t want to hurt such a kind senior.
And tonight—she could feel the senior’s subtle probing.
Though they hadn’t been too close during their half-year of cohabiting due to work, ngting knew her well.
She knew about Qiuqiu’s ntal and physical issues.
So when she saw Qiuqiu riding behind Tang Song, of course she had been shocked.
Later, at the supermarket, and during their walk—
It all showed that the senior likely had guessed what was in Qiuqiu’s heart.
Would she kick her out? Would she hate her?
What about Tang Song?
He had started a business with ngting, and they were close. He’d surely distance himself from her for ngting’s sake.
“I’m sorry... I’m sorry... I was wrong...”
She murmured under her breath, a look of pain flashing across her face.
She suddenly slapped herself hard and pinched her thigh a few tis.
She had always been soone who easily spiraled into extres.
Just then—
Click— The sound of the door lock turning.
Footsteps followed.
“Qiuqiu, we’re back~!” Gao ngting’s relaxed voice rang out. This text is hosted at novelFirｅ
Qiuqiu snapped out of her thoughts, tidied her hair to hide her flushed cheeks, and forced herself to look composed as she opened the bedroom door.
The lights in the living room were warm and soft.
The two of them entered, leaning against each other.
Gao ngting leaned on Tang Song’s arm as she changed into slippers, looking relaxed, a gentle smile on her face.
“Senior, you’re back.” Qiuqiu quickly stepped forward to take their coats, then poured two glasses of hot water and set them on the coffee table. “Here, have so hot water.”
“Thanks, Qiuqiu. Perfect timing—I’m a little thirsty.”
Gao ngting took the glass openly and drank nearly half in one go.
Tang Song picked up the other glass and sipped it, his gaze drifting to Qiuqiu with a thoughtful look.
They had only been apart for half an hour, but the Dreamseed Blossom above her head had grown visibly and was shaking wildly, emitting a soft yet uneasy green glow.
She looked calm on the outside, but Tang Song quietly shook his head.
Such a dark-hearted little girl...
“Oh right, Qiuqiu,” Gao ngting said, putting down her glass. “Tang Song’s had a drink tonight, so he’ll be staying over. That okay with you?”
Qiuqiu’s throat tightened. She answered in a soft voice, “No problem.”
Then she instinctively glanced at Tang Song, her heart beating faster and faster.
“Heh, that’s good. I was worried you’d be uncomfortable with it.” Gao ngting chuckled and patted Tang Song’s chest. “I worked up a sweat—I’m gonna shower first. There’s fruit and yogurt in the fridge—help yourself.”
With that, she grabbed so clean clothes and a towel from the balcony and went into the bathroom.
The living room fell quiet—just the two of them left.
Qiuqiu glanced at Tang Song, then quickly looked away. Her voice was low: “Want sothing to eat? I can grab it for you.”
“No need.” Tang Song shook his head and stepped closer, lowering his voice. “You okay, Qiuqiu?”
“I—I’m fine. Really.” She stepped back slightly, trying to put so space between them.
Tang Song raised an eyebrow and gestured. “Co here.”
Qiuqiu hesitated for a mont, but eventually obeyed and walked over.
Tang Song raised a hand and touched her cheek with his fingertips, frowning. “Why is it so red?”
“Maybe... too much alcohol. It’ll pass soon.” Qiuqiu shrank her neck slightly, her figure a bit unsteady, face filled with panic.
Looking at her, Tang Song suddenly rembered the girl from his dream—
The one who trembled during storms, crying alone in a dark corner.
A ripple stirred in his heart. He didn’t say anything else—just gently patted her head.
Qiuqiu stiffened, then slowly relaxed, like a frightened animal finally soothed.
The Dreamseed Blossom above her head also cald down, its green light flickering softly.
Tang Song leaned forward slightly and whispered in her ear, “Don’t be afraid, Qiuqiu. No one’s going to leave you behind.”
“I...” Qiuqiu looked up at him in shock, eyes suddenly brimming with emotion and longing.
That sentence—it felt familiar.
As if she’d heard it before, deep inside a dream.
Tang Song hesitated for a mont, then kissed her on her flushed cheek.
Smack~
She had just washed her face. Her skin was soft and cool, faintly scented with facial cleanser.
It wasn’t strong, but it was clean—pure.
He couldn’t resist kissing her again.
Qiuqiu’s eyes flew wide. Her ears turned bright red, and she instinctively covered her cheeks, stamring in a whisper, “S-Senior’s still in the shower. I-I’m going to bed now...”
Before she even finished, she turned and fled into her room.
She locked the door and slowly slid down against it.
...
Staring at the tightly shut door, Tang Song paused for a mont. Then he turned and walked into the main bedroom on the east side.
A soft scent filled his nose—the sa as Gao ngting’s.
A mix of neroli and cedarwood—gentle and fresh.
The room was as tidy as always, tastefully arranged.
Beige bed linens, a navy blue rug, a walnut vanity. On the wall, an old photograph with a film-like quality.
It showed a street at sunset. Light bathed her shoulders, casting a stunning silhouette.
Tang Song walked over to the window and flopped down into the lazy sofa, propping his feet up on the ottoman.
Next to him was a mini wooden bookshelf with a few books on top.
He casually pulled one out.
It was Jane Eyre—the English edition.
The cover was a little faded, the pages curled—clearly a longti companion.
He flipped it open, fingertips brushing the texture of the pages.
On page three, a small ID photo popped out.
It looked like a high school photo of his partner—around seventeen or eighteen.
Black hair, pure and youthful features, but with a quiet strength and determination in her gaze—like a young sapling growing against the light.
Resilient and alive.
A smile tugged at the corners of Tang Song’s lips as he gently traced the photo with his thumb. A wave of emotion welled up in his chest.
He could almost picture the seventeen-year-old her—
Clutching books as she walked through the tree-lined campus, scribbling furiously in a library corner, maybe even secretly writing her dreams in a journal.
She had her own youth too—fiery and full of ideals.
Surely, back in high school, she had been the “white moonlight” in more than a few boys’ hearts.
Tang Song kept flipping through the pages, soon seeing notes and underlined passages.
The handwriting was neat but full of emotion:
[To myself: I’d rather be lonely than fake my heart.]
[10.15 – Late-night re-read. We’re angry because we still care.]
[Even if my dreams didn’t all co true, at least I never betrayed myself.]
The quiet bedroom echoed only with the sound of turning pages.
Tang Song read with growing interest, as if retracing the inner journey and growth of Gao ngting through ti.
What an interesting partner she was—
Filled with passion and ideals. Her pursuit of self-worth had never wavered. Even now, she still radiated that vibrant vitality.
In truth, Gao ngting really was an impressive woman.
During college, she earned her first inco through a Taoke affiliate model and even launched her own product recomndation site.
When livestream e-comrce surged in 2020 and the Taoke model began to fade, she pivoted decisively—purchasing a Wuling Hongguang van, renting a storefront, and building new channels. From scratch, she broke through.
She then established a physical and online fashion shop focused on outlet and end-of-season goods, leveraging low prices to quickly gain a foothold. Business took off rapidly.
If not for the betrayal of two classmates, she might have gone even further.
Even at rock bottom, she could still seize opportunity decisively when she saw it—partnering with Tang Song to co-found Songi Apparel.
In the beginning, operations, planning, and product selection were almost entirely handled by her.
Now, as the branding process moved forward smoothly, her efforts behind the scenes remained indispensable.
Every step she took was solid and full of intention.
Compared to the ambitious campus belle Shen, she was far more grounded and steady.
At that mont—
“Hey—” The bedroom door eased open gently.
Fresh from her shower, Gao ngting entered.
She’d changed into a white T-shirt and gray shorts—simple and relaxed.
Her damp hair dripped slightly over her collarbones, forming delicate trails of water.
A light, clean scent of shower gel mixed with the warmth of her skin, and her cheeks were faintly flushed from the hot water.
Tang Song looked at her and smiled warmly. “Feel better after your shower?”
“Much better.” Gao ngting stretched lazily, the hem of her shirt lifting slightly with the movent, revealing a sliver of her waist.
She strolled over and, seeing the book in his hand, gave a slightly embarrassed smile. “That’s just random stuff I scribbled back then. Don’t take it too seriously.”
“I actually find it really interesting. And hey, you’re still young.”
“You’ve got a sweet mouth,” she replied, giving his cheek a playful pinch.
Tang Song instinctively rested his hand on her leg.
It was the first ti he’d ever touched her like that—not long, but toned and soft under the light.
He gave a gentle squeeze.
Startled, Gao ngting let out a small gasp, then laughed and leaned away, flicking a few water droplets at him with her hair.
They goofed around for a while.
Blushing and out of breath, Gao ngting finally sat down at her vanity, chatting with him while blow-drying her hair.
Once mostly dry, she loosely tied it into a ssy bun, a few strands falling at her ears.
She then moved to sit at the edge of Tang Song’s bed, hugging her knees, chin resting atop them, tilting her head slightly to look at him.
His high nose bridge, clear dark eyes, soft black hair, and fine skin—
He looked so much more refined than the first ti they t.
Especially in that artsy outfit—it was exactly her type.
He looked... perfect.
She couldn’t help but think: So good-looking it’s unfair.
“Why are you staring at like that?” Tang Song looked up from the book, eting her gaze.
“Nothing, nothing,” she cleared her throat awkwardly.
Tang Song chuckled quietly. This version of his partner was kind of cute.
He picked up the photo tucked in the book and asked about her high school days—studying, the cafeteria, friends...
He seed genuinely interested in all of it.
Gao ngting tucked so hair behind her ear, her face softening with nostalgia as she started sharing.
As the night grew late, only their quiet voices and the soft sound of pages turning filled the room.
“Haa—”
Mid-conversation, Gao ngting let out a small yawn, her eyes misting up a bit.
While adjusting her hair, she glanced at Tang Song—still calm and unreadable—and felt a flicker of unease.
She had invited him to stay the night... in the sa room. Surely he understood the implication?
Was he pretending not to get it? Or did he just feel nothing for her?
She’d read enough “docuntary-style literature” to know physical attraction mattered.
Which made her second-guess herself.
“Tired?” Tang Song’s voice was gentle and low.
“A little,” she nodded, then added, “Oh, and that outfit must be uncomfortable for sleeping. Let find sothing for you to change into.”
Before he could speak, she pulled a large-sized purple sleep shirt with lace trim from the drawer.
Trying not to laugh, she said, “Here—this one’s oversized. You might just fit in it...”
Before finishing the sentence, she collapsed into laughter, clutching a pillow and rolling around, her shoulders shaking.
Watching her antics, Tang Song closed the book with a smirk. “No need. I’m used to sleeping without pajamas.”
Under the soft lamp light, his smile—bright and confident—made Gao ngting’s heart skip a beat.
She quickly looked away, blushing. “What a coincidence. too.”
It was true. She’d picked up the habit after graduating and having her own room.
Once, it had even led to an awkward chest bump with Qiuqiu.
Hearing her reply, Tang Song blinked and nodded with mock seriousness. “Sleeping that way is healthy—helps the body relax and improves deep sleep.”
He stood up from the chair.
Gao ngting nodded absentmindedly, unsure what to say—until her eyes widened.
Tang Song had pulled off his sweater in one swift motion.
She stared, mouth slightly open.
The shadows of the warm light outlined the contours of his toned abs, tapering lines down his waist, strong collarbones and shoulders.
It was... a sculpted figure.
Visually striking.
Her heart pounded in her ears, her throat dry.
Wait—he’s this fit?!
They’d been physically close before, but usually it was him initiating.
Now, just seeing him like this had her feeling lightheaded.
She swallowed hard, fingers curling around the bedsheet.
Caught in that rush of thought—
Tang Song gave her a puzzled look. “What’s wrong?”
“Ah...” Gao ngting snapped out of it, an unfamiliar rush of energy stirring inside. Blushing, she said, “Tang Song, could you... get that copy of The Red and the Black from the shelf for ?”
“Sure,” he smiled and stepped over to grab the book.
When he handed it over, Gao ngting reached for it—then suddenly grabbed his wrist.
The mattress shifted with a loud creak.
Tang Song lost his balance and fell into the bed.
The scent of her post-shower skin lingered in the air, their closeness suddenly intensified.
Their eyes t.
A flush crossed Gao ngting’s face—a mix of nervousness and resolve.
The next mont—
She leaned in and kissed him softly.
Her lips brushed over his—then trailed gently along his cheek and brow.
Their heartbeats filled the silence.
The connection between them deepened.
The room gradually ward.
Tang Song looked at this bold and unexpectedly forward partner—montarily stunned.
He’d just been... swept off his feet.
As he tried to process it, Gao ngting took the lead with striking confidence.
Her shirt slipped off to the side, her figure illuminated under the amber glow.
She wasn’t flashy, but every part of her was gracefully proportioned.
The light danced over her skin, gentle and radiant.
Outside, the night blurred into shadows.
She bit him lightly and whispered with a half-scolding tone, “Dummy. What’s with you tonight? Don’t tell this is your first ti acting like a clueless schoolboy.”
Clearly, she was fired up now.
The air felt electric, charged with emotion and intensity.
Tang Song took a deep breath, wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her close.
“Gao ngting, you...”
Her voice was lost in the wind.
The autumn night raged outside, leaves dancing in the storm.
And in just a few minutes—
This confident partner of his completely lted.
So much that she almost forgot her own na.
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