The light from the desk lamp gently outlined Ye Qingliu's profile, casting a light shadow on one side of his tall nose. His short black hair was a little messy, with a few strands falling on his smooth forehead, shining like satin under the light, and trembling gently with his even breathing.
The most stunning thing was his gray-blue eyes - although they were closed at the moment, his long eyelashes cast a shadow under his eyes, like two small fans.
Chen Chunhua knew that when those eyes opened, they would be as cool and clear as sapphires immersed in ice water, or like the frosted surface of a lake on a winter morning. Now, hidden beneath thin eyelids, they possessed a rare softness.
There is a very faint teardrop mole at the corner of his eye, which is almost invisible under the light and can only be seen when you get very close.
Ye Qingliu's school shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing his graceful forearms. His skin appeared a cold white under the light, and the pale blue veins beneath his skin were clearly visible, like a stream flowing under a layer of ice.
There was a tiny mark of ink on the ring finger of her left hand, probably accidentally rubbed on while doing the test. It was particularly conspicuous against her porcelain-white skin.
Chen Chunhua noticed the temperature in the study was a little low. The early spring night breeze slipped in through the half-open window, bringing with it a slightly cool, damp air and a faint floral scent, gently ruffling the curtains.
The off-white linen curtains were embroidered with dark patterns, undulating slightly in the wind like gentle waves.
Chen Chunhua picked up the blanket placed aside, held her breath, and watched the tassels on the edge of the blanket gently brush against his shoulders, as silently as a feather falling on the snow.
As the blanket covered his back, she subconsciously smoothed out a barely-there wrinkle with her palm. The cashmere fibers rubbed against the texture of his school uniform shirt, making a subtle rustling sound.
Ye Qingliu's shoulder blades showed a clear outline under the cloth, rising and falling slowly with his breathing, like a pair of folded wings.
Chen Chunhua tucked the blanket behind Ye Qingliu's neck, her knuckles accidentally touching the ends of his scattered hair. His black hair was like silk soaked in ink, cool and smooth as a thread as it slid across her skin.
A strand of hair stubbornly stuck up, gleaming golden brown in the halo of the lamp. When she pulled her hand back, she found her fingertips trembling slightly.
The blanket finally wrapped around his shoulders, the falling edge just covering his curled elbows. Ye Qingliu's right hand, holding the pen, was exposed, the cold white wrist bones protruding like jade carvings.
She hesitated for a moment, but ultimately did not touch the hand. Instead, she gently placed the last corner of the blanket over his forearm, allowing the warm wool to just touch his skin without waking him up.
Chen Chunhua held her breath, afraid to wake him. But the boy merely moved his fingers unconsciously, and the pen drew another shallow mark of ink on the paper, like a winding stream, before falling into a deeper sleep.
His eyelashes trembled slightly a few times, then returned to calm, like a butterfly temporarily resting on a flower petal.
Taking this opportunity, Chen Chunhua noticed that he had a set of Mathematical Olympiad simulations spread out before him. The draft paper was densely packed with calculations, some steps repeatedly crossed out, and several different solutions were marked next to them.
"98 points" was written in red ink at the top, and next to it was the teacher's flamboyant comment: "The solution is novel, but the steps are too jumpy. 2 points will be deducted for the process."
In the corner of the desk stood a brass globe, gleaming with an antique luster under the light. Next to it was a celadon brush washer filled with clear water, with a few ink flowers floating on the surface.
Chen Chunhua gently placed the warm milk on the desk. The porcelain cup made a slight click as it touched the wooden surface. The blue and white patterns on the cup appeared particularly elegant under the light, and the steam from the cup's rim drew wisps of air in the air.
Chen Chunhua noticed a schedule under the coaster. The paper had turned yellow, and it was filled with densely written arrangements:
06:30 Morning run (third lane on the east side of the playground)
07:00 Breakfast (whole wheat bread + boiled egg)
07:30 Go to school (go through the west gate)
16:30 Mathematical Olympiad Training (with Advanced Mathematics)
19:00 Physics Competition Class (Review of Electromagnetism)
21:00 Self-study (Complete chemistry lab report)
23:00 English Listening (BBC News)
24:00 Advanced Mathematics (Lagrange's Theorem)
There is a neat check mark after each time period, except for "24:00 Advanced Mathematics" which is blank - it is obvious that the boy fell asleep here.
Next to the schedule was a copper bookmark with four small seal-script characters engraved on it: "The sea of learning has no boundaries."
A thin layer of milk skin gradually formed on the surface of the milk, shining with a pearly luster under the light, like the first layer of thin ice on the surface of a lake in early winter.
Chen Chunhua hesitated for a moment, then tore off a piece of paper from her notepad and wrote with a pen: "Don't drink the milk if it's cold. Call me to heat it up anytime if you need it."
Her handwriting was neat, but still far inferior to Ye Qingliu's beautiful regular script. The note paper was light blue with wavy edges, like a small ocean.
Just as Chen Chunhua was about to leave, Ye Qingliu suddenly frowned in his sleep. His eyelashes trembled slightly, and his gray-blue eyes moved rapidly under his eyelids, as if he was lost in a dream.
His right hand unconsciously gripped the pen, his knuckles slightly white, as if he was holding something important. A drop of sweat slid down his forehead, slowly sliding down the contour of his cheek, and finally hanging on the tip of his chin, like a crystal dewdrop under the light.
Chen Chunhua stopped and looked at him nervously, but the boy just mumbled something vaguely and slowly relaxed.
His forehead rested on his arm, and his short black hair rose and fell gently with his breathing, like a soft crow feather.
Outside the window, a bright moon quietly climbed up the branches, and the silvery moonlight poured in through the gauze window, drawing diamond-shaped spots of light on the wooden floor.
The moonlight and the warm light from the desk lamp blended together, casting a hazy glow on the sleeping top student, making him look like a classical oil painting.
The small clock on the desk clicked softly, and the hour hand pointed to one-thirty. The green plants on the windowsill cast a swaying shadow, gently swaying on Ye Qingliu's profile.
On this quiet spring night, the usually calm and composed top student finally revealed a softness befitting his age. The corners of his mouth curled up slightly, perhaps he was dreaming a sweet dream.
Chen Chunhua gently closed the door, locking the tranquility of the room behind her. Outside the French window at the end of the corridor, the night-blooming jasmine in the garden was in full bloom, its rich fragrance drifting in with the night breeze, filling the corridor.
She knew that when the sun rose tomorrow, Ye Qingliu would turn back into the perfect top student, like a flawless marble statue. But for now, let him have a sweet dream.
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