109 | (One Hundred and Eight) Baby Yan Yan
The corridors of the art building were quiet; the liveliness was down below. People came and went on the playground, and every now and then a loud whistle could be heard as basketballs were thrown into the hoop with a thud, accompanied by the screeching of sneakers on the rubber floor.
You don't even need to look to know he's a first-year high school student.
Those entering their senior year of high school lack energy, drained by mountains of homework and daily exams. Endless tests, an uncertain future—they are miserable.
With all that brainpower spent, how can one possibly have the energy to expend on physical exercise?
During breaks between classes, if you pass by a senior high school classroom, you'll see a whole row of heads slumped over their desks, looking like buried potatoes. It's as if they have a telepathic connection; everyone is in perfect harmony, standing in neat rows and columns, even more so than during military training. You have to make the most of your time and spend ten minutes absorbing nutrients, otherwise how can you stay awake until the next class without yawning?
As for the second year of high school, oh, they still had time to have a secret relationship.
Xie Qingyan casually tossed her bag into the boy's arms and pushed his shoulder as he leaned in: "What are you doing?"
She darted forward like a fish, nimbly dodging Su Xingmao's hand that landed on her head. Her eyes narrowed as she issued a warning: "Didn't you promise me you wouldn't be so close to me at school?"
Fortunately, the rehearsal room was far from the teaching area, and there weren't many people there after school. The corridor was also conveniently empty, otherwise someone would definitely have seen us.
As soon as she left, my hands were suddenly empty; her soft black hair slipped through my fingers in an instant.
The boy lowered his eyelashes, concealing the emotions in his eyes, and said in a flat tone, "I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself."
At school, they made a three-point agreement, which would only be followed by her nodding in agreement.
He cannot cross the line.
Su Xingmao did very well this week, making an effort to maintain relationships with classmates who weren't very close.
Today was an exception. He couldn't restrain himself and crossed the line. In a public place, he put his arm around her shoulder and touched her hair—especially since these actions were done in front of Zhou and others.
Even though this other person already knew that they were not ordinary people in private.
The sky turned a fiery red at dusk.
Today, the heavens are in a terrible mood, pouring fiery red oil onto the sky. Half the sky is burning fiercely, it's so hot and scorching! If it weren't for the north wind blowing, which would freeze people to death, just looking at the sky would make you think you've gone back to summer.
The sunset glow illuminated his face, making him seem shy. "Why is it slower today than yesterday?"
He counted the time very clearly; it was 6 minutes and 47 seconds later than yesterday.
But he couldn't tell Xie Qingyan this number; such a direct inquiry might offend her.
This was the first thing he learned from Xie Qingyan: all the dark thoughts must be concealed with silence.
He tried his best to control himself and asked calmly in a concerned tone, "Is something the matter?"
Xie Qingyan didn't answer directly: "Are you spying on me?"
He didn't directly answer the question: "If you wish."
Oh, practicing Tai Chi.
Xie Qingyan isn't stupid. Is there any difference between Su Xingmao and a human surveillance camera? He's obviously jealous, yet he's being veiled and putting on a sanctimonious act, refusing to say it directly.
Annoying! It makes me want to peel off his refined and calm facade and see what's going on inside him, whether he's really having a turmoil of emotions.
Xie Qingyan skipped and hopped down the stairs in a few steps. Too lazy to continue her entanglement with him, she took the initiative: "Oh, you want to ask me what Zhou Jianyang and I are doing?"
Su Xingmao frowned slightly, pulled her back, and said to be careful.
Easy to install!
Xie Qingyan was speechless. She shook off his hand and jumped down from the last few steps, saying, "I'm not a three-year-old. What's there to be careful about?"
"Isn't that right, Su Xingmao?" Xie Qingyan turned around and smiled, his face reflecting the shadows cast by the light through the railing, flickering and rustling. "You really want to know what he said to me, what we were doing in those few minutes that were late."
As the sun sets, dust particles drift in the light, rising and falling, each one distinct.
They looked at each other across a beam of slanting sunlight in the stairwell.
Xie Qingyan stood under the beam of light, her eyebrows raised, her smile bright and lively, like a fresh and beautiful wild lily growing on the edge of a cliff, facing the wind, very unrestrained.
Su Xingmao stopped in the shadows, her heart clenching at her words, and her whole being darkened.
He stared at her silently, his face blurred by the light, his features indistinct.
He didn't speak, hiding all his thoughts in his eyes, staring at people with a dark, unfathomable look, as if he had something on his mind, looking worried.
Her fair skin contrasted sharply with her dark eyebrows and unfocused gaze; she was a beautiful person, yet her beauty was tinged with melancholy.
Xie Qingyan leaned against the railing, stretching her arms comfortably. She casually removed the hair tie from her ponytail, and her long, waterfall-like hair cascaded down, dancing in the wind like a vast, swirling black cloud.
Clouds are hard to fathom; they always harbor some unpredictable and wicked schemes, and you never know when they might bring a cold wind or lightning.
Seeing it makes my heart pound, as if it's about to rain, damp and wet.
Xie Qingyan's eyes were curved in a smile, and she could still taste the sweetness of the lollipop on her tongue. It melted in her mouth and lingered on her taste buds for a long time. So when she looked back at him, she felt bitter. He had such a bitter face, looking unhappy, with a gloomy expression, just like a rainy day, full of sorrow.
Her words took a turn, and she teased him further: "He said he likes me a lot and wants to be with me."
The wind was blowing loudly.
She smiled gently, a confident gleam in her eyes.
—Sorry, Zhou Jianyang, please allow her to slightly alter her statement.
...
Xie Qingyan raised his eyebrows and looked back at Su Xingmao.
Just as she expected, that calm face was instantly covered with gray, his eyes were empty for a moment, but he quickly regained his previous indifferent look, his gaze fixed on her without blinking.
"What did you say?"
How did he manage to keep his tone so calm? It was impossible to tell that his heart was fluctuating. Xie Qingyan was so impressed. She should learn emotional management from him, of course, without paying tuition.
"You want to know?"
"Um."
The knuckles dug into the flesh of the palm.
I really want to.
Teasing him is so much fun! Xie Qingyan excitedly licked his lips, the sugar running from his tongue to his mouth. It was so sweet, it made him feel like he was melting.
"Guess? Or, beg me."
His burning thirst for knowledge made him feel no burden, and he said calmly, "Please."
"Hey, stop! Nobody asks for help with a blank expression." Xie Qingyan was dissatisfied with his demeanor.
Su Xingmao's expression softened, and he tried to appear more focused: "What do you want me to say?"
“You have to say—” Xie Qingyan thought quickly, then slowed her voice in a sweet and coquettish tone: “My dear Qingyan, please, tell me, okay?”
“I see.” Su Xingmao indicated his understanding and called out in a measured tone, “My precious Yan Yan…”
Too stiff! The tones and rhythms are almost entirely unchanged.
"Stop, stop! Can you please put some emotion into your shout?" Xie Qingyan had a headache; he really did sound like an AI.
Previously, when Xie Qingyan messaged him, he would occasionally share his funny videos, and Su Xingmao would reply indifferently, such as: "Interesting." "Very humorous." "I don't quite understand what they are doing."
Sometimes, when he really didn't know what to say, he would describe the content of the video, saying that they were in XXX. Xie Qingyan would look at it and wonder if he was deliberately making lame jokes. She had eyes and noses; couldn't she see what the video was about?
…
"Are you a human or a machine?" She adopted the posture of a teacher instructing lines during rehearsals, like a great conductor, her eyes shining brightly: "You have to read it slowly, with intonation, you know? Put your emotions into it, and vary your tone."
Say it once.
"Huh?" Xie Qingyan was taken aback.
“You repeat it once, and I will learn it.”
She had just begun to say, "Yan Yan—"
He interrupted her, saying, "I can call you Yan Yan, but you should call me Bao Bei. I haven't learned those two words yet."
? ? ?
Xie Qingyan finally realized what he was up to; he was pretending to be weak while actually being strong, and he was doing it in a roundabout way.
She laughed and said, "If you want me to call you 'baby,' just say so. There's no need to go through all that trouble."
He smiled faintly, a very elegant smile, gentle and refined, looking like he was easy to bully. He followed her down the next step and stood in the light, saying, "So, am I one?"
Is this your baby?
The subtext, though somewhat cloying, didn't come across as cheesy when spoken by him. Instead, it was melancholic and reserved, as if he were carefully offering her his heart, revealing a vulnerability that made her feel sorry for him.
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