014 | (Thirteen) Irrational Numbers

Xie Qingyan didn't believe his feigned kindness. Her eyes were filled with suspicion, and she looked wary: "I don't care about your pretense."

Su Xingmao remained silent, then lowered his head and moved closer to her.

She wrapped her arms around her knees, shifted her hips back, and shouted, "What are you doing!"

"On your head." Warm breath fell on her face, a hand brushed away the stray hairs at her forehead, and a touch of red appeared at her dark temple. A crape myrtle petal had fallen there at some point, which he picked up, held in his thumb, and tucked in front of her eyes: "There's a flower."

The night was quiet, and his voice was quiet too, whispering.

Xie Qingyan's gaze was fixed on the petals.

Long, long ago, on a night in August, the crape myrtle was in full bloom, amidst purple clouds and blue mist, clusters of jade-like blossoms, as numerous as stars.

She climbed over the fence to mock Su Xingmao, then fell into the flowerbed. He, too, pointed at her messy, unkempt hair, full of weeds and withered flowers, through the screen window.

He looked at her quietly and said, "There's a flower in your hair."

She caught a faint floral scent wafting from the past.

It's the crape myrtle in the yard. Its fragrance is always delicate and not strong, like a blanket rolled in the sun. You have to bury your face in it and try hard to smell it. It's the refreshing scent of summer.

Crape myrtle blooms from June to September. The lush green trees swell with delicate flower buds. As I stroll along with my schoolbag, I glance up and know that my favorite summer vacation is just around the corner. The fragrance of the flowers is like the refreshing taste of orange juice soda and iced watermelon, so cool and refreshing.

"Let's eat."

Su Xingmao reached out and lifted the stunned Xie Qingyan up from the ground.

He had great arm strength. Although he looked thin and frail in his shirt, he was incredibly strong. He lifted her two slender arms as easily as lifting noodles, and pulled them up in a flash.

He walked around the marble island, placed the takeout on the dining table, and unpacked it for her. After breaking the disposable chopsticks in half, he thought for a moment, then turned and went to the kitchen, where he took a white porcelain bowl and a pair of ebony chopsticks inlaid with silver from the sterilizer.

After washing everything clean, he poured the food from the plastic box into a porcelain bowl, handed the chopsticks to Xie Qingyan, turned around to clean up the trash, and then returned, sitting upright to watch Xie Qingyan eat with relish.

Xie Qingyan ordered mala tang (a spicy hot pot dish). She has loved spicy food since she was a child. Every time it's spicy, her lips swell up into two big lobes, and her skin turns bright red. She inhales and says "So spicy!", gulps down a couple of mouthfuls of water, and then eats with great enthusiasm, repeating this cycle over and over again, enjoying herself immensely.

She has always been a bold, resilient, and forgetful person.

"You really will write a test for me?" Xie Qingyan picked up a crisp lotus root slice, put it in his mouth and chewed, his voice muffled, his skepticism unchanged.

Su Xingmao hummed in agreement.

Xie Qingyan absolutely refused to believe that there was any chance of getting something for nothing in this world: "What are the conditions—"

The living room was only lit by the wall lamps for a week, so it wasn't very bright. The moonlight had somehow sneaked out from behind the clouds, blinking as it looked into the room, and its bright light streamed in.

"us…"

Su Xingmao raised his eyes, his gaze even colder than the moonlight, but his words were the opposite, making a rather unreasonable request: "Continue the relationship from that day."

A fantasy!

"You're dreaming!" Xie Qingyan slammed his chopsticks down with a "smack," the silvery tip hitting the marble slab hard with a loud thud.

"Why?"

He seemed genuinely puzzled; his expressionless face froze for a moment, his brows furrowing into a deep frown as he asked, "Xie Qingyan, don't you like it?"

"I don't…"

Su Xingmao said with certainty, "You clearly enjoy it."

A single sentence was like tearing away the fig leaf tightly wrapped around her. Xie Qingyan almost buried her face in the bowl. Her usually eloquent mouth was now mute. She was furious, swallowed hard, and mumbled something.

I thought to myself, I can't let him get away with this. I always regret not having enough words when the time comes; this hot-tongued jerk needs to think of something to say…

"What if I don't agree?"

Su Xingmao didn't say anything, but his brows furrowed even more, and his lips were pressed into a thin line. He stared straight at her in the dim moonlight, looking at her intently. His expression was very serious and earnest, as if he wasn't looking at a living person, but rather at a difficult math problem. He was frowning and had to rack his brains to find a solution.

But the complexity of human beings is no less than that of pi, almost like an infinite number after the decimal point, never accurate. Even if calculated to 31.4 trillion digits, it is not a complete answer.

Pi is a cold, irrational number with no end, and so is she in his eyes.

Xie Qingyan felt very uncomfortable under Su Xingmao's gaze. She didn't know if it was because the air conditioning was set too low and the cold air was too strong, or because he was staring straight into her eyes and it was intimidating, but small goosebumps rose on the back of her neck.

Su Xingmao's eyes were incredibly complex. It wasn't exactly resentful, but it always seemed as if she had bullied him again. When they were little, she often bothered him; he was a taciturn man, always keeping an icy expression, always conveying his emotions through his eyes, and he especially liked to look at her like that, making her feel guilty. It was annoying.

Xie Qingyan felt a lump in her throat, and without thinking, her heart softened a little. Without thinking, she blurted out, "...It's not impossible."

As soon as the words left my mouth, I wanted to slap myself.