Chapter 4
Consciousness is like a fragment sinking in the dark deep sea, floating around and unable to find a landing point.
Xia Wan felt like she was sitting in a familiar classroom. Overhead, old, multi-tube fluorescent lights emitted a low, humming sound, their light pale and pale. The air was thick with chalk dust, old books, and the slightly sweaty scent of youth. Outside the window, the night was deep, and the faint outline of a tall sycamore tree edging the playground was just visible.
At the podium, the Chinese teacher projected "Dream of the Red Chamber." The slightly blurry image quality echoed through the quiet classroom, while the humming and humming of operatic arias echoed. On the screen, the scene depicted Daiyu burning her manuscripts to end her infatuation. In the candlelight of Xiaoxiang Pavilion, that frail figure coughed up blood as she tossed pages of her heart-soaked poetry into the brazier. The flames danced across her nearly transparent face, illuminating her desperate yet luminous eyes.
"It would be better to collect the beautiful bones in a brocade bag, or to cover the romantic love with a handful of pure soil..."
The low, mournful lyrics drifted into her ears, and Xia Wan's eyes suddenly swelled with soreness. She sat by the window, the evening breeze rustling a corner of the thin blue curtains, brushing against her arm, bringing a hint of coolness. Her gaze wasn't focused on the screen, but rather on the slightly slender yet upright figure in the blue and white school uniform in front of her, landing on his arm, casually draped over the back of the chair. The arm, exposed from his short sleeves, was smooth and sculpted, with the tenacity that only youth can muster.
At this moment, the figure behind him, Jiang Yu, suddenly tilted his head slightly. His voice was not loud, but it clearly penetrated the opera singing style, carrying a kind of youthful, almost cold doubt:
"Is a life like this really worth it?"
His voice was quiet, like he was talking to himself, or perhaps even throwing a question mark into this dull space. He didn't deliberately lower it, nor did he raise it, simply ringing in Xia Wan's ears.
Xia Wan's heart suddenly sank, as if stabbed by that calm question. She instinctively glanced up, her gaze meeting the slightly tilted line of his face, blurry in the dim classroom light. He wasn't looking at her, his gaze seemingly fixed on the dancing flames on the screen. His brow furrowed slightly, a subtle hint of confusion and... disapproval?
Is it worth it?
At that moment, Xia Wan's tears welled up without warning, quickly blurring her vision. Daiyu on the screen faded in the firelight, leaving only her desperate and forlorn eyes frozen in her mind. She bit down hard on the soft flesh inside her lower lip, tasting a hint of blood before she managed to hold back the tears.
Is it worth it? She cried silently in her heart, her fingertips pinching hard into her palm.
It's worth it! Of course it's worth it!
Even if it's only for a moment, even if it burns up my life, to be loved and pampered so purely by the person dear to my heart, to occupy all his attention and tenderness, to become the mole in his heart... what's not worth exchanging my whole life for that?
Just like herself, as long as she could sit behind him like this, trace his back with her peripheral vision, and catch the occasional words he said, even if it was just an unromantic question from him at this moment, for her, it was enough to brew the most bitter and secret sweetness in her barren youth.
Isn’t her secret love also a hopeless burning?
"Worth..." A tiny, choked syllable, almost audible only to her, was squeezed out from between her trembling lips. It seemed like she was answering him, but more like she was strengthening her humble and stubborn heart.
The picture suddenly rotated and shattered!
The flames of Daiyu's burning manuscripts suddenly expanded, engulfing the entire classroom. The fire was no longer a warm orange-red, but a cold, blue-purple tinged with the embers of lust. The burning sensation no longer emanated from the screen, but spread from deep within her body, burning and sticky.
"Ugh..." A short moan filled with pain and shame uncontrollably escaped from the depths of Xia Wan's throat.
She suddenly opened her eyes!
A pounding headache pounded like a blunt instrument against her skull, and every heartbeat sent her temples throbbing. Her throat felt dry and burning, like sandpaper. Her consciousness felt like muddy water, heavy and muddy. She blinked hard, trying to focus.
The first thing that caught her eye was the unfamiliar ceiling. It was tall and broad, with clean lines. A uniquely shaped chandelier cast a cold, hard outline in the dim morning light. This wasn't her cozy, though slightly cramped, little apartment.
Sharp fragments of memory pierced her mind: the boisterous class reunion, the amber-colored wine, Wang Qiang's loud voice, the cold corridor walls, the scorching tears, the desperate embrace, and that violent, punishing kiss, and the subsequent storm that overwhelmed her senses and her mind...
Xia Wan's body stiffened instantly, and even her breathing stopped.
She carefully and extremely slowly turned her stiff neck and looked to her side.
The off-white duvet outlined the silhouette of a sleeping man. He lay on his side, his back to her. The dark gray quilt covered only to his waist, revealing his broad, taut shoulders and back, and a hint of a lean waist. The dark sheets accentuated his exposed skin's healthy tan. His breathing was steady and deep, clearly still sound asleep.
It’s Jiangyu.
Not a dream.
The chaotic, shameful, and destructive fragments of last night replayed with incredible clarity, each detail scorching with heat, making her fingertips tremble. She could even clearly recall the trembling sensation of his rough fingertips brushing against her skin, the burning sensation of his heavy, suppressed breathing against her ears, and the irresistible power that threatened to shatter her soul...
Xia Wan suddenly covered her mouth, her stomach churning. It wasn't the hangover, but the overwhelming panic and shame. What had she done? She'd thrown herself at him like crazy, driven by the alcohol, and finally...
At this moment, Jiang Yu, who had his back to her, seemed startled by her movements and moved slightly. He turned over and lay flat on his back.
Xia Wan's heart nearly jumped out of her throat! Like a frightened rabbit, she slammed her eyes shut, her body tensed, even her eyelashes trembling violently. She held her breath, praying that he wouldn't wake up, or that if he did, he wouldn't look at her.
Time passes by minute by minute, and each second seems as long as a century.
There was a rustling sound beside him, the sound of the duvet rubbing against each other. Then, there was the extremely soft thud of feet landing on the carpet. He got up.
Xia Wan's eyes were tightly shut, but her hearing was amplified to its limit at this moment. She heard his footsteps heading towards the bathroom, steady and clear. Then, the sound of the bathroom door closing, followed by the sound of running water.
He took a shower.
His tense body suddenly relaxed, followed by a deeper feeling of exhaustion. Only then did Xia Wan dare to slowly and cautiously open her eyes.
She was the only one left in the room. Outside the huge French windows, the sky was already bright. The city was waking up in the morning light, and the traffic was flowing. But strangely, not much sound could be heard. Only the continuous sound of water in the bathroom was heard, like an invisible barrier, separating the two worlds.
Xia Wan's gaze fell on the disheveled bedsheets. The traces of last night's madness were clearly visible, a single spot of brilliant red, so blindingly bright. Her cheeks instantly burned again, a burning sensation. No, I had to leave! Now! Right now!
This thought gripped her mind with overwhelming intensity. She didn't even dare to imagine what Jiang Yu's expression or words would be when he emerged from the shower. Disgust? Indifference? Or perhaps a blank expression, as if he'd disposed of a troublesome item? Any of these would be enough to completely shatter her already shattered pride.
She gritted her teeth, enduring the pain that felt like her entire body had been disassembled and reassembled, and with great difficulty, she pushed herself up from the bed. Every movement made her bones groan. She looked around and saw her off-white linen dress, carelessly thrown on the armrest of the sofa, and her underwear scattered on the nearby carpet.
Xia Wan's face flushed red. She practically lunged forward, frantically grabbing her clothes, not even bothering to look carefully before shoving them on. Her fingers, frantic and aching, lost control, and the zipper of her skirt got stuck several times before she could even manage to get it up. The clasp of her bra took an agonizing effort, her fingertips trembling.
After getting dressed, she tiptoed barefoot around the room like a thief, searching for her bag. Finally, she found it in the corner of the sofa by the window. She grabbed the bag, her heart pounding, and glanced at the bedside table—there, indeed, was a black room card.
Jiang Yu's cold voice echoed in his ears: "When you wake up, leave by yourself. Don't tell me."
She grabbed the room card, like grabbing the last piece of driftwood, and rushed to the door without looking back. The moment her hand touched the door handle, she didn't even dare to look back at this room filled with the chaotic atmosphere of last night.
She unlocked the door, slipped out, and gently closed the door behind her, completely isolating the sound of the rushing water behind the heavy door.
The corridor was covered in thick carpet, absorbing all the sound of footsteps. Xia Wan leaned against the cold wall, gasping for breath, her chest heaving violently. The hotel corridor was unusually quiet in the early morning, with only the deafening roar of her own heartbeat in her ears.
Finally... escaped.
She held onto the wall, dragging her still-weak legs as she stumbled towards the elevator. Every step felt like stepping on cotton, or even a red-hot iron. Last night's desperate gamble had left her with this gnawing embarrassment and a body that no longer felt like her own.
As the elevator went down, the metal wall reflected her disheveled appearance: her hair was messy, there were dark circles under her eyes, her cheeks were abnormally flushed, her lips were slightly swollen, and her eyes were empty and frightened, like a frightened little animal that had just escaped from a trap.
When the elevator door opened in the lobby on the first floor and the bright light and faint voices from outside poured in, Xia Wan was vaguely aware of a more cruel reality: she was wearing the dress she wore to the party last night, with unspeakable marks on her body and the mess of a hangover, and she had nowhere to go.
She escaped from that room, only to find herself trapped in a larger cage called "Last Night".
Stepping out of the resplendent hotel, the cool early summer air washed over her, yet it couldn't dispel the heat and confusion swirling within her. She stood on the busy street, gazing blankly around, like a wandering soul lost in a vast urban forest. Her phone seemed to chime in her bag. Sluggishly, she pulled it out, revealing a missed call from Lin Wei and several messages.
"Wanwan, where are you? You disappeared last night after going to the bathroom?"
"I called you but you didn't answer! I was so worried!"
"Are you okay? See the reply!"
Xia Wan's fingertips felt cold as she read the messages. How should she respond? Was she supposed to tell him that she'd drunkenly lost control last night, forced herself upon the man she'd secretly loved for ten years, and then fled after a chaotic night?
A huge sense of exhaustion and absurdity washed over her. She didn't even have the energy to reply to Lin Wei. She just mechanically hailed a taxi and gave the address of her deserted little apartment.
The car started and merged into the busy morning traffic. Xia Wan leaned her head tiredly against the cold car window and closed her eyes.
The light and shadow outside the car window flickered across her face. Fragments of her dream from that evening study session in her second year of high school, along with the chaotic and frantic reality of last night, repeatedly intertwined and overlapped before her tightly closed eyes.
The light of Daiyu's burning manuscripts, Jiang Yu's cold question, "Is it worth it?", the stubborn cry from the bottom of her heart, "It's worth it!"... and his passionate kiss last night, his burning body, and the clear ache deep in her body at this moment...
Is it worth it?
She exchanged the courage of ten years of secret love for this chaotic night and the endless embarrassment and awkwardness at this moment.
Is it really... worth it?
A drop of cold liquid slid down from the corner of her tightly closed eye without any warning. She quickly wiped it away with her hand, leaving a slightly cool trace.
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