067 | (Sixty-six) Likes

The stars sank below the horizon, the moon hung lonely on a branch, and in the dim, gray sky, she fell asleep.

On a sweltering summer night, a thin layer of sweat, like damp mist, feels sticky and clingy on the body, impossible to shake off.

Much later, someone gently patted her shoulder. In her drowsy state, she heard a very soft voice, like mist hovering on a mountaintop, so light and ethereal that it was about to dissipate before she could hear it clearly: "The sun is out."

She was so tired that her eyelids felt as heavy as stones, and she refused to wake up.

Someone watched the sunrise for her.

The fiery red sun pierced through the clouds, illuminating the dark blue sky.

The white fog was pierced by light, and an unseen god set fire to the sky, turning the entire sky a vibrant orange-red, as were the clouds, which were ablaze.

She fell asleep leaning against the taciturn man, but the man she was leaning on was unusually awake. He felt a weight on his shoulder, making his muscles ache and numb. He raised his hand several times, wanting to push her away, but his hand froze in mid-air, and he thought again.

Let's wait a little longer. People who are tired from crying have finally fallen asleep.

When she wakes up, she'll start making a ruckus again.

She's really quite noisy. She's noisy when she's happy, and even noisier when she's unhappy. Her mouth opens and closes, chattering endlessly, like a lit firecracker with its fuse lit, crackling and popping. She can create quite a commotion all by herself.

It made him feel extremely uncomfortable; he hadn't been surrounded by such liveliness in a long time.

However, he never expected that the moment his finger hesitated in the air would be crushed by time, stretched infinitely, like a thin, endlessly spreading thread, one end hooking to his past self, and the other end entwining to her future self.

This wait lasted for many years.

…In the overwhelming red light, the fine white downy hairs on her cheeks, which were resting on his shoulder, were also stained with a bright color. Then, she fell down along his shoulder blade and arm.

A living person was lying casually on his lap, wriggling around a few times, curling up his knees, and finding a comfortable sleeping position.

He froze, his blood surging from his heart, filling his limbs and bones. He wasn't used to being approached, and his hand hung helplessly in mid-air.

This was an unexpected day. His mother and a tired-looking Aunt Xie brought a bright girl with a pouting mouth to his door, asking him to take good care of her. He followed the adults' instructions and had her copy her homework.

She was unhappy, threw her homework aside, and started making a fuss, yelling, crying, and wanting to go play.

He persuaded her that if she obediently finished writing, he would take her out to play.

It's unclear how long the stiff posture lasted.

He looked down at the person sleeping soundly, and in the thick, black hair, among the fine, silky strands, a pointed, bright red ear peeked out.

It was probably steamed by the heat, turning red, like a small crescent-shaped sun.

If we can't touch the sun in the sky, can we touch this?

Lost in sleep, half-awake, her ears, plump and full, seemed to be pinched by someone, held between her index finger and thumb, the fingertips gently stroking her skin.

Until beads of sweat seeped from her pores and a blush crept onto her cheeks.

The person beneath him shifted, covered his ears with his hands, and muttered, "It itches, stop scratching."

He withdrew his hand in a flash.

...

Xie Qingyan completely forgot.

She left her childhood memories on that misty mountaintop.

At this moment, a warm, wet touch landed on her cheek; someone was gently stroking her face—it was a kiss.

The sound of cicadas, the grass, the sunlight and moonlight, fireflies fluttering their wings and disappearing into the clouds and mist, then everything became clear again.

She collapsed to the ground, two lines of clear tears on her face. Just inches away, her tongue licked the wet teardrops. Xie Qingyan heard him say, "A long time ago, you said you didn't like to cry."

"Remember? You liar."

“…It’s all your fault.” She choked up.

"What's it to blame me for?"

Su Xingmao cupped her face in his hands, tears wetting her thick eyelashes, like dewdrops clinging to grass, rolling down with a pattering sound. There was so much water that her eyelashes drooped heavily, making her look pitiful.

He looked up at her.

The past ten years have passed in the blink of an eye, and his clear, bright eyes have been watching her day after day.

His eyes remained calm, focused, and composed, unchanged.

"Is it because I like kittens, or do kittens like me too?"

He spoke so naturally, in a casual tone, as if he were talking to her about how nice the weather was today.

"You're talking nonsense!" Xie Qingyan pouted, her face tense with a cold expression, and retorted, "I didn't..."

It had a strong presence, but the voice was weak, like a mosquito's buzz; it was all just putting on a brave face.

Su Xingmao gripped her shoulders, and for the first time since they met, he used a force she couldn't break free of to force her to look up at him.

Xie Qingyan avoided eye contact.

Su Xingmao was so clever that she was afraid of him. His eyes were as sharp as needles, and he could clearly see through her, but he insisted on forcing her to admit it.

It was a truly despicable tactic, casting a hook, patiently and deliberately coaxing her to see clearly that gentleness and strength went hand in hand, a net of heaven and earth was woven around her.

Xie Qingyan struggled desperately, but could not escape.

He knew better than anyone that she was running away.

He pressed down on her shell, capturing her body as she tried to curl up inside.