Chapter 31
The afternoon sun filtered through the old-fashioned windows, heating the air and filling it with the dry, dusty scent of old wood. The cicadas chirped, one after another, as if setting an endless rhythm to the drowsy hours.
Ling Yao practically grew up on Su Rui's creaky, old wooden bed. He lay on his side, one arm tucked behind his head, his other hand idly scrolling through his phone, his body rising and falling with the gentle sway of the bed. His soft, white cotton T-shirt had ridden up slightly, revealing a slender waist and abdomen.
"Su Rui—" he suddenly spoke, his voice drawn out, a little hoarse and matter-of-fact, like someone just woke up from a nap, "Apple, I'm thirsty."
Su Rui was sitting on a small stool by the window reading a book. He immediately put down the old novel with some curled pages when he heard the sound. He picked up the fruit knife and the last bright red apple in the fruit bowl and sat on the edge of the bed.
He lowered his head, his expression focused. The blade of his knife scraped against the peel, making a subtle, even sound. His slender fingers steadily turned the apple, pulling the peel into a continuous, evenly thick red ribbon. The sunlight fell on his lowered neck and slender white fingers, casting a soft glow.
Ling Yao stopped looking at his phone and tilted his head, his eyes lazily following Su Rui's movements. He looked at that fragile, slightly bent neck, and deep in his eyes was an obsession that he himself had not noticed.
Only when the smooth apple reached his lips did Ling Yao take Su Rui's hand and take a large bite. The flesh was crisp, the juice sweet, soaking up the inexplicable heat. "Is it sweet?" Su Rui asked softly, her eyes sparkling. Ling Yao chewed the apple, mumbling a vague "hmm," his gaze still glued to Su Rui's face. Suddenly, he reached out his fingertips and rubbed the corner of his lips, wiping away the nonexistent juice. The action was natural and intimate.
The old fan in the room shook its head diligently, making a regular humming sound, but it seemed unable to blow away the sticky summer air. Fine beads of sweat still oozed from Su Rui's forehead and nose, and a few strands of soft hair stuck to her skin wetly.
Ling Yao glanced at it, his brows knitted in habitual disdain. "What a lousy fan! All it does is make noise, but no air is blowing. It's making me dizzy." He stretched out his long arm and easily twisted the fan head around, securing it. The powerful wind immediately blew fiercely at him, sending his hair flying and the hem of his T-shirt billowing. He squinted comfortably, like a large cat being stroked.
But the coolness lasted less than half a minute. As if suddenly remembering something, he instinctively spun the fan—"Whoosh!" A powerful, noisy breeze suddenly blew over Su Rui's head and face, instantly sweeping away the sweltering air surrounding him. His sweat-soaked hair flew wildly, even blinding him for a moment. "Blow off that sweat from you," Ling Yao's tone remained harsh, even a hint of impatience. "You're so sticky, it makes me hot just looking at you." But his eyes, as he looked at Su Rui, held a faint smile and unmistakable thoughtfulness. The coolness, brought to him by that despised "broken fan," made Su Rui's heart skip a beat, then quickly began to beat faster again.
This kind of hypocritical care has become Ling Yao's norm lately at Su Rui's house. He expresses his relentless disdain for everything in this old house. "Why is there still a gap even though the window is closed tightly? It's so windy at night." "The faucet is still dripping even though it's turned on tightly, which is annoying." "The light bulb is too dim, it hurts my eyes."
He complained with a clear conscience, as if every shabby part of the house was challenging his comfort level as the eldest young master. Then, before Su Rui and grandma could feel embarrassed, he would make a phone call. Not long after, workers in neat work clothes came to the door and quietly and efficiently replaced the new windows with tight seams, the faucets that no longer dripped, and the new lamps with bright and soft light. Grandma rubbed her hands awkwardly and thanked him repeatedly. Ling Yao just waved his hand and said casually: "It's okay, I just met someone and it's a small thing." He glanced at Su Rui and saw the other party's eyes full of gratitude and a little bit of helplessness. He seemed to have gained some kind of satisfaction, and the corners of his mouth raised an imperceptible arc.
Su Rui watched the family transform bit by bit, the little ailments that had plagued his grandmother for years being resolved one by one. He sat before the newly renovated window. Outside, the old alley remained bustling, while inside, his small, bright, peaceful world emerged. He knew all these changes stemmed from the boy who lazily slouched on his old bed, never saying a kind word, but always directing the cool breeze toward him.
Ling Yao was like a willful, fiery wind, unleashing itself upon his previously dull world, sweeping away all the shabby and gloomy conditions, leaving behind only the warmth and coolness of the sun. Su Rui, immersed in this exclusive pampering, willingly let herself be enveloped by it, feeling the clumsy yet genuine tenderness hidden beneath a layer of disdain.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
