Little guy

Yu Chen opened his eyes, but it felt like he had been punched in the temple—the whole world was buzzing and rushing back into his ears.

She saw tiny beads of sweat still clinging to Xiao Wei's eyelashes, trembling slightly with his breath, like stars about to fall; she saw the crimson stain from where she had bitten his lip, spreading across his tanned skin like the lingering shadow of the setting sun on the boxing ring ropes. But she couldn't hear anything; her heartbeat was too loud, so loud that it swallowed up the torrential rain, the electric current from the light bulbs, and the distant honking of cars.

The lack of oxygen blurred her vision, making the edges appear like snowflakes. She instinctively wanted to push him away, but her palm pressed against Xiao Wei's collarbone—it was sweaty and burning hot, like a freshly forged steel plate. Her knuckles trembled, only to be pushed back by the even higher temperature. The end of the bandage between his fingers had somehow come undone, the black strip of cloth hanging down, swaying in the gap between them like a misdirected fuse.

Xiao Wei's forehead was still pressed against hers, their noses touching, each breath like fire poured into her mouth. Yu Chen's throat was dry, her tongue tasting the salty-sweet mixture of rust and glucose water, but she couldn't make a sound. She wanted to turn her face away, but Xiao Wei's left hand gently supported the back of her neck—not a clamp, not a buckle, but a support, like holding a newly hatched chick that might fall to the ground at any moment. The rough calluses on his palm brushed against her hair, bringing a tingling, electric shock-like sensation that crackled down her cervical spine and into her tailbone.

"...I waited for you to grow up, I waited for three years."

The voice was so low it was almost a whisper, yet so heavy it made Yu Chen's shoulders slump. She opened her mouth, her lungs finally filling with air again, but it felt like she was learning to breathe for the first time—cold air scraped through her throat, bringing out a violent, bloody cough. The cough brought forth tears of natural urgency to her eyes, which shattered into tiny diamonds under the lamplight, sliding down her temples into her hair, and dripping silently onto the cushion.

Xiao Wei stepped back a few centimeters, giving her room to expand her lungs, but he remained kneeling beside her, like a mountain that refused to leave. Her right hand hung in mid-air, the gloves off, her knuckles red and swollen, but her palm was open, facing upwards—a silent invitation, and also an undefended threshold.

Yu Chen's gaze fell on that hand: an extremely long lifeline, and a light-colored old scar at the base of the thumb, from when her opponent's elbow slashed it three years ago in the national finals; tiny beads of sweat were embedded in the palm lines, like a stretched-out Milky Way under the lights. She suddenly remembered the first time she watched Xiao Wei fight; he stood diagonally across the boxing ring, his shoulders and back ramrod straight, raising the same palm to his forehead in a gesture of greeting to the audience, like raising an invisible sword.

Now that sword is lying in front of her, she doesn't know whether to grasp the hilt or avoid its edge.

The rain intensified, and the knocking on the tin roof became deafening. A bolt of lightning struck, and the light bulbs flickered violently, going out and coming back on, casting the shadows of the two men onto the ropes—one kneeling, the other lying flat, their shadows strangely overlapping to form a cross, like a referee gesturing "time out."

Yu Chen's fingertips twitched, and the bandages completely unwrapped, the black strips of cloth winding across the red mat like a maze with no exit. She heard her own heartbeat, changing from a rapid "thump thump thump" to a hesitant "thump...thump...", like the countdown ten seconds before the end of a round, but no one rings the bell.

She looked up, her gaze finally meeting Xiao Wei's—

There was no arrogance of a victor, nor the certainty of an elder, only a layer of almost fragile light, soaked with sweat: "You can push him away," Xiao Wei said softly, his voice low and hoarse, yet trembling slightly, like a boxing coach's final question in the corner of the ring, "You can also—"

She didn't finish speaking because Yu Chen's right hand suddenly rose—not to push, not to grasp, but to stop halfway, fingers slightly spread, as if to catch something, or as if to give something up. The ends of her bright red hair were blown by the fan, brushing against Xiao Wei's wrist, causing a slight shiver.

The air seemed to solidify into transparent glass, and the torrential rain roared outside the window, yet it was as if there was a thick curtain between us.

Yu Chen's throat bobbed, and finally a sound came out—

But it was just a single word, tinged with the smell of blood and hoarse to the point of being almost inaudible:

"……lamp."

She didn't know what she was saying, nor what she wanted to say. The world was still ringing in her ears, her heart was still beating erratically, and Xiao Wei's palm was still hanging in front of her, like a fire that refused to be extinguished in a storm.

The fluorescent lights were still flickering, the afterglow of the lightning casting a silvery glow on Xiao Wei's silhouette, like the back of a knife appearing and disappearing in the darkness. She lowered her eyes, looking at the person beneath her—

Yu Chen's cheekbones and ear tips were burning red, and the ends of her bright red hair clung to her neck like a piece of fuse softened by rain. Her lips were slightly parted due to lack of oxygen, revealing her small canine teeth, which looked particularly fragile against the blood.

Her eyes were open, but she dared not focus, her gaze darting between Xiao Wei's brows and collarbone, like a bird trapped in a ring of fire.

"Light..." The word she had just uttered was still trembling in the air, the last syllable torn apart by the torrential rain.

Xiao Wei chuckled softly, his thumb pressing against her flushed cheek, his fingertip deliberately circling slowly within the redness: "Lights? On or off?"

Her voice was husky, yet brimming with a blatant teasing. Her fingertips traced down Yu Chen's earlobe, pausing on the small silver earring, and she gently flicked it—

"Clang—" The metal struck the fingernail with a very light, crisp sound, yet it seemed to snap the last string in Yu Chen's mind.

She visibly flinched, raising her shoulders as if to dodge, but Xiao Wei's left hand firmly held her back on the mat. His rough palm, the calloused skin between his thumb and forefinger, brushed against the tenderest skin behind her ear, sending a jolt of electricity through her. Yu Chen's breathing became even more erratic; her hot breath on Xiao Wei's neck felt like scattering embers into dry grass.

"Xiao..." she began, her throat dry and sore, only managing to utter the surname before being interrupted—

Xiao Wei leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers, his voice so close it was almost deafening: "Call me by my name."

Yu Chen's eyelashes trembled wildly; she refused. Xiao Wei then nuzzled her cheek with the tip of his nose, again and again, like a big cat teasing a helpless cub. His warm breath swept across Yu Chen's cheekbone and slid to the corner of her eye, making the physiological tears even hotter.

"Xiao...Wei..." Yu Chen was forced into a corner, his voice barely audible, yet carrying the stubbornness unique to a young man—as if losing by even one point would mean losing the entire match.

A dark undercurrent surged in Xiao Wei's eyes, but her smile deepened. She turned her head, her lips almost touching Yu Chen's earlobe, and spoke slowly and deliberately, in a voice barely audible:

"Good girl. Say it again, okay?"

As she spoke, her right index finger slid down Yu Chen's neck, stopping at the unraveling end of the black bandage. Her fingertip hooked the strip of cloth, and she pulled it outwards very, very slowly—the bandage rubbed against her skin, making a soft "shh" sound, as if tearing away all of Yu Chen's covering. That skin was sensitive from the sweat; with each inch the cloth moved, Yu Chen's back arched further; her teeth clenched tightly, and the tips of her ears turned a deep, almost bleeding red.

"Xiao Wei!" she suddenly raised her voice, her tone panicked, but it sounded more like she was begging for mercy.

This sound made Xiao Wei chuckle softly. Her chest vibrated, the sound traveling against Yu Chen's chest, like a rhythmic beat for his frantic heart. After laughing enough, she looked up—only to freeze in shock.

Yu Chen's eyes reddened.

Not just a few physiological tears, but a rapidly accumulating tide, trembling and hanging in a line along the lower eyelashes, finally rolling down when the light flickered once more—

"despair."

It hit the red pad, leaving dark circles, like a bullseye that had been hit.

Xiao Wei's smile froze instantly, and her Adam's apple bobbed. She raised her hand, her fingertips gently wiping away the tear stain, a movement lighter than any punch, yet her knuckles trembled noticeably when she touched the warmth.

"...Why are you crying?" The voice was low and hoarse, filled with regret. "Did I go too far?"

Yu Chen didn't speak, but her nostrils flared rapidly, and tears welled up even more fiercely, mingling with sweat and sticking her temples into dark, snake-like patterns. She didn't want to shed tears in front of her opponent, so she blinked frantically, but the more she blinked, the wetter she became. Finally, she simply turned her head away and pressed her forehead against Xiao Wei's shoulder—it was covered in sweat, but it was also the only place in the entire boxing gym where she could hide.

Xiao Wei froze for half a second, then sighed deeply, like a fighter whose gloves had been removed, all her sharpness instantly concealed. She reached her left hand through the back of Yu Chen's neck, lifting him up so that his head could be buried deeper; her right hand went around his back, gently stroking between his protruding shoulder blades—the movements were clumsy, yet extremely gentle.

"I won't tease you anymore, okay?" She pressed her cheek against Yu Chen's wet hair, her voice so low it was almost like coaxing a child. "It's my fault, don't cry."

Yu Chen's choked sob muffled on her shoulder, his voice tinged with a stubborn boyish nasal tone: "I didn't... cry."

"Okay, you didn't cry." Xiao Wei chuckled, continuing to pat his palm. "It's sweat, all sweat."

Tears quickly soaked through her vest, leaving a dark trail. Xiao Wei remained motionless, letting the tears spread, as if willingly catching all the dam breaking. She lowered her head, touched Yu Chen's burning earlobe with her lips, and whispered:

"I'm sorry, little one."

The torrential rain continued to roar on the roof, lightning occasionally flashed, and the light bulbs flickered again. But this time, Xiao Wei raised his hand and pressed Yu Chen's head against his neck, using his body to shield him from the cold light—

Like providing a little bird trapped in fire with the last bit of shade to keep it from being burned.