Snap.
The moment Zhao Qingyu’s sharp, slender high heels met the loose sand, they sank in without warning.
Her lithe body tilted uncontrollably to one side.
But she showed no sign of panic. Shen An had a firm grip on her small hand and pulled her steadily toward him, countering her fall.
Inevitably, though, it brought her crashing against him—her left shoulder and side pressing tightly against his right shoulder and side.
Shen An smoothly wrapped an arm around her waist, supporting her as he teased, “I told you to be careful, Senior Sister.”
Zhao Qingyu let out a soft hum, but his hand only tightened around hers.
“If I fall, you’re going to regret it later.”
Propped up by his support, she refused to back down verbally.
“You’re looking pretty good right now already.” The beach had no streetlights; it was a patch of utter darkness, lit only by the pure glow of moonlight that turned the yellow sand grains into shimmering white salt flats.
The darker the night, the more blurred the boundaries between people became.
In other words, dim surroundings were the perfect catalyst for intimacy.
Under its influence, even Shen An found himself murmuring sweet nothings.
Zhao Qingyu paused for a moment, glancing up at him. “If I fall later, you’ll have to compensate me not just for my earrings, but for medical bills too.”
“Then I’ll have to support you trembling in fear.”
Shen An’s voice softened. “You’re so precious—even losing a single hair is more than I could afford to replace.”
“You know it~” Zhao Qingyu playfully withdrew the teasing glint from her eyes, then gripped his hand tighter and strode forward with purpose.
Shen An was pulled along at a brisk pace, occasionally reminding her, “Senior Sister, slow down a bit.”
But the more he urged her, the faster she went.
From a quick walk to a jog, then to a carefree sprint. With every step, Shen An stayed right at her side, oblivious to how red her hand was turning from his grip.
The warm sea breeze caressed Zhao Qingyu’s delicate face, fluttering the high slit of her dress.
She reveled in the breeze’s touch, answering the restless tide with her own uninhibited strides.
The two of them ran along the beach, kicking up sand that was nearly invisible in the night.
At first, Shen An worried she might trip, so he kept reminding her to watch her step.
But then he thought better of it and fell silent, simply running alongside her.
He knew this might be a rare chance for her to truly unwind.
The thicker and more intricate the mask she wore day to day, the harder it was to maintain—and the more impossible to shed, revealing her true self.
Shen An wasn’t sure if this playful, slightly mischievous version of Zhao Qingyu was her authentic self, or just another facet of her facade.
But he was willing to believe it was her real self.
Strip away the haughty aloofness or the seductive vixen charm, and she was just a girl a little younger than him.
Holding her small hand tightly, Shen An’s thoughts drifted for a moment.
He recalled their first outing together.
Back then, she had been full of suspicion and distrust toward him. Forget holding her soft little hand—even taking her to a roadside food stall had her face twisted in disdain and reluctance.
And thinking back to how they’d first met, she hadn’t been this gentle or playful.
Her words had been laced with barbs, carrying a cool disdain, and worst of all, that cunning fox-like scheming.
Tch~
And yet, less than a month had passed.
Shen An narrowed his eyes, genuinely sighing with emotion.
As they ran, Zhao Qingyu started to tire.
Even with Shen An’s support, running in high heels was tough enough—let alone on sand.
She gradually slowed, returning to her normal pace.
Subconsciously, she turned to look at Shen An, wondering why he’d gone so quiet.
Seeing him lost in thought, a flicker of displeasure stirred in her heart.
She pouted, lowering her head. But in the dim light and his distraction, Shen An missed that childish expression.
Only when she yanked her hand free did he snap back to attention, his gaze returning to her.
“Tired?”
He asked softly.
“Tired.” Zhao Qingyu stood still, her arms crossing instinctively over her chest.
Ah~
She seemed a little upset.
Shen An’s lips curved slightly. “If you’re tired, sit down and rest. That’s what coming to the beach is for, anyway.”
With that, he sat down on his own, looking utterly relaxed.
Zhao Qingyu’s dissatisfaction bubbled over; she glanced at him, tempted to snap, but reined in her tone at the last second.
Pretending nonchalance, she said, “You seemed to be thinking about something just now.”
“Did I?”
Shen An hid his mischievous smile.
“You did,” she said coolly. “You stopped talking, and I heard it.”
“I could tell you were a bit unhappy too.” Shen An reached for her hand again.
Zhao Qingyu slapped it away and turned to stare into his eyes. “Is coming out with me making you unhappy?”
“Hey, aren’t you the one who’s unhappy, Senior Sister?”
Shen An asked, feigning confusion.
“I…” Zhao Qingyu pursed her lips and muttered, “So what were you thinking about?”
She crouched down a little closer, peering into his eyes. “You’re supposed to be with me every step of the way—not just physically, but mentally too.”
“Even slaves don’t have it this bad.”
Shen An shrugged, grinning.
“Don’t change the subject. Answer me.” Her gaze didn’t waver. “What were you thinking about just now? You were holding my hand and still had room to think of other things?”
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll fall? Or do you just not care if I do?”
“Or maybe you think I’m being willful, that your warnings don’t work, so you stopped bothering and just zoned out?”
That was the root of her unhappiness.
Childish? Absurd? Exactly.
Women were always exacting about the details.
And Zhao Qingyu was a prime example.
She might be the most sensitive girl Shen An had ever known—like a glass crystal ball on display in a shop window. To hold it, you had to be exceedingly careful.
One slip, and it would shatter.
It demanded constant care, undivided attention, total focus.
But Shen An didn’t need to clutch it in his hand. He could craft a box for it, one lined with soft padding, where it could tumble all it wanted without breaking.
He tilted his head up to meet her scrutinizing gaze and said softly, “I was just thinking how unbelievable it all feels.”
“Unbelievable?” Zhao Qingyu frowned. “That’s what you were thinking about? What’s so unbelievable?”
“Sit down first.”
Shen An gave a gentle tug, catching her off guard and pulling her down beside him.
Zhao Qingyu brushed the sand from her skirt, then drew up her legs, her strappy black high heels gleaming in the moonlight.
“I was thinking about the first time we went out together.”
“Hm?”
“That time at the food stall.” Shen An leaned back, hands planted in the sand behind him.
Zhao Qingyu blinked, then burst out laughing. “Why would you think of that?”
“I don’t know.”
Shen An gazed at her, his voice tender. “That’s why it feels so unbelievable.”
“What feels even more unbelievable is that I never imagined I’d be holding your hand like this, strolling under the moonlight.”
Zhao Qingyu’s heart fluttered under his gaze, and she quickly looked away. “Who said we’re strolling under the moonlight? I just… needed you to hold me up.”
“Ha~ But we are holding hands, aren’t we?”
Shen An stretched out lazily on the sand. “And I never thought I’d be lying here with you under the moonlight, watching fireworks together.”
As if on cue, a burst of brilliant fireworks lit up the sky just after he spoke.
Boom, boom~
By the seaside, in the quiet, the fireworks’ rumble sounded especially clear.
Zhao Qingyu rested her cheek in her hand and found herself looking skyward too.
Yeah…
The feeling of disbelief wasn’t just his.
If he hadn’t mentioned it, she might not have dwelled on it.
But now that he had, a wave of indescribable emotion washed over her.
Time seemed to loop back amid the exploding lights.
Less than a month had passed, yet her mind flashed through scene after scene of their time together.
Pieced together, it felt like ages ago.
But…
It really hadn’t been long.
She just remembered it all so vividly.
If someone could recall every hour of every day, every minute, every second, then reliving those memories would take just as long.
So…
Maybe forever was only a single day.
Because every day after would be steeped in the memory of that one.
Would that day be today?
Zhao Qingyu’s lips curved into a faint smile.
How could she know?
Shen An, admiring the fireworks, suddenly froze. Zhao Qingyu had quietly lain down beside him.
She turned her head slightly, her voice laced with an unprecedented coquettishness. “This is what it means to lie together under the moonlight.”
