021 | (20) Sketch

Xie Qingyan slipped into the bathroom, her feet creating a gust of wind as she flew past the mirror, unwilling to look at the still-emotional reflection in it.

She took a relaxing hot bath, filling the tub with white bubbles, burying her whole body in it. In that moment of warmth enveloping her, all her worries vanished, and she felt incredibly comfortable.

Foam gurgles, rub and wash.

Her phone vibrated, and the lock screen displayed a message from [XX]. She quickly pressed the button to turn off her breath, but a moment later, there was another "buzz" sound. Xie Qingyan was extremely annoyed. What kind of stupid message did Su Xingmao send her!

She impatiently opened WeChat.

【XX】：The bank card is in Taiwan.

【XX】: Password is your birthday.

Xie Qingyan was stunned. A bank card? He gave her his bank card? How much money was in it?

Xie Qingyan completely lacked the "noble" quality of being uncorrupted by wealth and status. She was quite happy to be bought with money, and her heart was filled with joy, her mood turning from gloomy to sunny. Then she saw "typing..." on his nickname screen.

It displayed several times back and forth, and finally sent two words.

"good evening."

Xie Qingyan was speechless. He had only managed two words after all that. She thought he was going to write a long essay, but he had to cut and edit it.

[Long Live the Cat Teacher!]: (^^)[

I might as well just send an emoticon to get by.

The phone quickly received another message.

【XX】: What does that mean?

【Long Live the Cat Cult】: I'm calling you an idiot.

Xie Qingyan suspected that Su Xingmao might be an ancient relic from the Qing Dynasty who had traveled back in time. Does he never even use the internet? What do emoticons mean? They're just being cute! He doesn't even understand that; his stupidity is outrageous. Perhaps Ms. Xie Jinyu has impaired eyesight to praise him as intelligent.

[XX]: Get some rest.

Stepping out of the bathroom, Xie Qingyan saw the dirty clothes hanging on the sink. The flower that had bloomed in her heart quickly closed again. With a snap, the flower withered. Gritting her teeth, Xie Qingyan threw the skirt into the trash can.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Perhaps she was too tired from all the activity, because she was lying in bed and, unusually, had no energy to play games. She only watched two videos before she started yawning repeatedly. Soon, she couldn't resist the drooping eyelids, rubbed her eyes, and drifted into a sweet dream.

The dream was even worse than reality. Xie Qingyan had an embarrassing erotic dream. It was in this same room, and the moon was just as it had been yesterday, bright, huge, and hanging in the sky like a jade plate.

Su Xingmao slowly took off her clothes, pulled down her pants, and this time he used his mouth instead of his hands. He rubbed his lips and teeth against her vulva, teasing her clitoris. His high nose bridge was completely buried in the crevice of her vulva, and his tongue seemed to come alive, like a little fish, sucking and burrowing inside.

The next morning, when the sunlight filled the room, she was almost startled awake. Her underwear, which she had just changed the night before, was completely soaked, with a large puddle of water inside.

Xie Qingyan wanted to cry but had no tears.

How could this happen? It's one thing for her to be with him all the time, but he even haunts her dreams.

Su Xingmao is clearly so annoying... at most, his body is just a little bit sexually attractive to her! Putting aside physical attraction, Xie Qingyan absolutely hates him!

Tomorrow is the day Ms. Xie Jinyu will return. Like the prisoners waiting to be executed at the Meridian Gate, she is restless and irritable, her heart is filled with a gong and drum, and every few steps she takes, it sounds deafening. She can hardly find peace anywhere.

Fortunately, Su Xingmao kept his word and helped her with most of her homework. However, he also frankly stated that she had too many papers to finish on her own, so she had to save one for herself. She had to copy it while sitting down, thus eliminating any possibility of her sneaking out to play.

And so, at this very moment, it is a beautiful sunny day.

Xie Qingyan was forced to share a desk with Su Xingmao. She propped her chin up with one hand, her face contorted in a grimace. She looked like an eggplant wilted by autumn frost, and her eyes were also tinged with a tired, bluish-gray hue from last night's nightmare.

She yawned repeatedly, her fingers trembling as she held the pen: "When will this ever end?"

He would sigh and complain after copying each question, lamenting, "My life is so miserable..."

Su Xingmao seemed not to hear, not even raising his head. Even his posture while doing his homework was very upright, with his back not leaning against the chair, much like a green bamboo growing upright in the back mountain, straight and tall. His pen-holding posture was very standard, as if it had been precisely measured by the scale of a ruler. He wrote very seriously, but his handwriting was like a dog's scrawle, all because he was imitating her.

Su Xingmao had developed beautiful handwriting since childhood, and vaguely remembered participating in a calligraphy competition and winning a major prize. He was skilled in calligraphy, proficient in the thin gold, Yan, and Liu styles, and adept at running script and regular script. However, he had to "compromise" to imitate Xie Qingyan's handwriting.

Su Xingmao excelled in both math and physics competitions. He won first prize in the national physics application competition in junior high, smoothly entered the national training team in his first year of high school, and went abroad in July to compete, winning a perfect score gold medal at the IMO. Xie Jinyu bragged about this endlessly, acting as if he were her biological son. High school problems would be child's play for him, right? And her claim that he couldn't finish them all by himself is definitely a lie.

Frustrated by her writing, Xie Qingyan stared absently at Su Xingmao, unable to understand why she dreamt of him. Her gaze wandered, sometimes landing on his calm, serene face, and sometimes drifting to his right hand as he wrote. The ink from his brush drew guide lines on the scroll, and with each forceful stroke, the prominent veins and bulging blood vessels seemed to come alive, like the green branches of bamboo swaying in the wind.

Unbelievable, the knuckles of Su Xingmao's fingers were still faintly pinkish-white, like half-ripe wild strawberries, sweet and sour peaches, tender with red and white hues. Suddenly, she remembered last night, when he used the two index and middle fingers that held the ballpoint pen to play with her vulva, making her wet... She hurriedly looked away.

Then I thought about it again. Speaking of which, when Su Xingmao was about eight or nine years old, he always wrote with his left hand. His father was so strict with him that it was almost inhuman, and he managed to change his mind. However, he could still be seen using his left hand occasionally, such as when he was stroking his genitals up and down last night.

--pause!

Xie Qingyan tried to stop herself from letting her mind wander. She tried her best to focus her gaze on a certain chemical formula, her piercing eyes trying to burn two holes in the paper, but she still couldn't stop her brain from automatically playing out indescribable images.

On the exam paper, the solution density, the mass fraction of the solute... where did all those 'm's come from? It was practically a reminder of her appalling behavior.

The formulas twisted and deformed in her eyes, densely packed, crooked and irregular, black and white, mixed with her messy blue handwriting that she had copied so carelessly, gradually turning into a blurry human face.

hateful!

Xie Qingyan slammed his fist on the table, causing the pen to bounce and fall under the table.

She used too much force and grimaced in pain, groaning and crying out. Startled by her commotion, Su Xingmao looked up and glanced at her with a puzzled expression.

Then his gaze froze on the exam paper, and his pen stopped moving.

Xie Qingyan followed his gaze and saw that the hateful ten years of art training and the detestable sloppy sketches had unknowingly outlined a familiar yet unfamiliar human figure. It was not that the formulaic handwriting had turned into a person; it was clearly that someone's silhouette had been drawn silently and without anyone noticing.

With just a few strokes, the lines were smooth, the eyebrows and eyes were elegant, and the eyes were still scanning this way, glancing at her indifferently. Xie Qingyan was shocked!

He stood up abruptly, as if struck by a thunderbolt, and Xie Qingyan staggered back two steps, seeing stars.

He immediately wanted to tear the test paper to shreds.

She must be crazy, or she's been cursed.

In the afternoon, the sun hid behind the clouds, unwilling to come out, and the sky was dimly lit.

Xie Qingyan subconsciously looked up at Su Xingmao, her movements slow and sluggish, until their eyes met. The painting came to life, its clear black and white eyes leaping out of the painting and becoming a spirit, staring at her.

Plain yet sharp.

The snow was bright and clear, like a mirror, making it impossible for her to hide.