Zhao Qingyu suddenly flung the seawater cupped in her palms high into the air. Then she tilted her face upward, allowing the falling droplets to trace their way one by one across her cheeks.
The water droplets slid from her forehead down to her cheeks, then quietly vanished after brushing past the faint dimples there. The moonlight’s gentle glow mingled with the droplets, both adorning her stunning features.
She was truly breathtaking—peerlessly radiant and utterly unique.
Shen An stood with his hands on his hips, watching her. A faint sense of pride swelled in his chest.
This move couldn’t be used lightly, or it might backfire and genuinely anger her.
Timing was everything, especially discerning whether she was playing hard to get or truly rejecting him outright.
But in an atmosphere thick with ambiguity, people’s rationality—especially a girl’s—would weaken endlessly.
Even if she started out reluctant, the mood would draw her in, making her crave more.
For a girl like Zhao Qingyu, who had long maintained an icy facade, shattering her routine could be a breakthrough in itself.
Good girls often fell for rebellious boys—not some fabricated tale, but a yearning for a life they’d never experienced.
Shen An watched her for a moment before slowly walking over. He stopped right in front of her and poked at her dimple with his finger. “See? You look so much better when you smile. Don’t keep that poker face on all the time.”
Zhao Qingyu wrinkled her dainty nose in a charming pout, acting tsundere as she huffed, “When do I ever have a poker face?”
“You don’t, but your usual smiles aren’t half as nice as this one. They’re all layered with so much pretense—it’s downright creepy.”
Zhao Qingyu pursed her lips in rebuttal. “That’s still better than you grinning like an idiot all day, like some fool.”
“I’m the fool, so you’re the big fool.”
Shen An said it, then couldn’t help bursting into laughter himself.
Zhao Qingyu was speechless. “What are you laughing at?”
“I just realized—’Big Fool’ is a perfect nickname for you.” Shen An barely got the words out before he started laughing again.
Zhao Qingyu, annoyed, scooped up a handful of seawater and splashed it right in his face.
Ptooey!
Shen An got a mouthful of seawater, salty as if he’d popped a salt crystal in his mouth.
Seeing this, Zhao Qingyu burst out giggling. “You really are a fool.”
“Hey.”
Shen An suddenly exclaimed in surprise.
Zhao Qingyu blinked. “What’s wrong?”
He whipped around and looked up at the sky.
The fireworks had vanished at some point, leaving only a bright moon hanging in the heavens.
He muttered, “Where’d the fireworks go?”
Zhao Qingyu sidled up beside him and whispered, “You want to watch them all night?”
“I could, but I doubt you could.” Shen An smiled.
“Heh.”
Zhao Qingyu rolled her eyes, but Shen An pinched her cheeks. “I’m sturdy enough—being a little wet is no big deal. But if you get any wetter, you’ll catch a cold tomorrow for sure.”
The seawater was somewhat warm at night, but the sea breeze was chillier by comparison.
Plus, with them standing amid the waves and having their water fight, they were soaked through. The hot-and-cold shifts could easily make them sick.
A warmth bloomed in Zhao Qingyu’s heart, but she stubbornly shot back, “You have the nerve to say that?”
“Hey, why wouldn’t I? You’re the one who splashed me first,” Shen An retorted righteously.
“That’s because you dragged me over here by force.” Zhao Qingyu huffed lightly. “Whatever. You owe me an earring, a pair of stockings, and a skirt now.”
“If I get sick, you’ll pay the medical bills too.”
Shen An shrugged. “Fine, I’ll cover it.”
What was one more debt?
With that, he took her small hand and started leading her back toward the beach.
Zhao Qingyu paused. “We’re done playing?”
“Next time.” Shen An’s voice softened. “It’s late—do you really want to catch a cold?”
“Oh…”
Zhao Qingyu shrank back a little. He hadn’t mentioned it before, but now that he did, with the sea breeze blowing, she did feel cold.
She followed his steps, leaving the shore bit by bit and returning to the sandy ground.
But Zhao Qingyu kept glancing back every few steps, unsure if she wanted to memorize the waves of tonight or the full moon overhead.
Even she didn’t know—only a flicker of reluctance showed in her eyes.
Back on the shore, Zhao Qingyu felt even colder.
Her delicate frame shivered. From her hair to her stockings, everything carried the salty tang of the sea breeze, overpowering even her perfume a bit.
Shen An glanced at his own drenched clothes and pulled her closer.
But that didn’t solve her problem.
He said gravely, “That’s it for tonight. Let’s head back.”
Zhao Qingyu’s voice trembled as she shook her head. “It’s too early. Let’s stay a bit longer.”
“What’s left to stay for? The fireworks are done.”
Shen An was firm about leaving. Zhao Qingyu pressed her lips together and didn’t argue further.
He fetched her high heels, and she lifted her dainty foot to slip them on.
But after a few steps, she stopped, kicked them off, and frowned. “No way. I hate this feeling.”
With her stockings soaked inside the heels, it was like wearing sneakers in the rain—every step felt squishy and slick.
For a neat freak like Zhao Qingyu, it was pure torture.
Shen An scratched his head. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten so carried away.”
Zhao Qingyu snorted. “Good that you know.”
But in the blink of an eye, a sly glint flashed across her face.
“It’s not that far, though. Just a short walk—hang in there?” Shen An coaxed gently.
“No. I can’t take a single step.”
Zhao Qingyu shook her head stubbornly, refusing to budge.
Shen An was stumped. “We can’t go barefoot, right? Your stockings would be ruined for good.”
Truth be told, he was more worried about her delicate feet getting hurt.
They were so exquisite, like works of art—he hated the thought of even a mark on them.
Zhao Qingyu crossed her arms and turned away coldly. “Your mess. You figure it out.”
Shen An arched a brow and sighed. “Looks like there’s no way around it.”
“Heh.”
“Senior Sister, don’t be mad.” Shen An bent down and picked up her high heels.
“What?”
Before Zhao Qingyu could react, her arms instinctively wrapped around him. Then the world spun. “You…”
Her senses cleared, and looking up, she saw his jaw, his face.
Shen An held her high-heeled shoes in one hand and cradled her against his chest with the other.
The classic princess carry.
He started walking toward the hotel. “Bear with it for now. A hot shower back at the room will fix everything.”
Zhao Qingyu’s lips curved up in a smile. “You actually thought of this.”
She nestled against his chest without a hint of resistance. Her long legs draped over his arm even swung lightly, her delicate toes dancing in the darkness.
“No choice. This was the only way.”
Shen An said seriously, “Hope we don’t run into a crowd on the way back. Otherwise, Senior Sister, your dignity might take a hit.”
Zhao Qingyu pretended to threaten him. “If we do, you’re dead.”
Only she knew the truth: this path back would be empty save for the two of them.
She had cleared out all unrelated people earlier and even set up barriers.
As they left the beach behind, the sea breeze turned into the night’s cool wind.
The breeze chilled her, sapping her body heat. The wet dress and stockings clung to her unpleasantly.
Shen An’s clothes were soaked too, and two drenched bodies pressed close didn’t feel great physically.
But her face showed no impatience.
The physical discomfort was utterly overshadowed by the thrill and contentment in her spirit.
She was savoring it—the quiet night, the empty expanse, his wet yet warm embrace.
No one crossed their path. Shen An carried Zhao Qingyu along the original route and smoothly returned to the Grand Hotel.
At the elevator, he pressed the button for the 18th floor, intending to set her down.
But Zhao Qingyu clung tightly to his neck, showing no sign of letting go.
Shen An’s eyes flashed with surprise. She cooed, “My toes don’t want to touch the ground. Not one bit.”
“Fine, always making trouble for me.”
Shen An grumbled on purpose. “My arms are gonna be sore by the time we get back.”
Zhao Qingyu raised a brow. “Is holding me that tiring?”
“Uh…”
“What? Don’t tell me you’re going to say I’m fat?”
“No, of course not, Senior Sister. You’re not fat at all.” Shen An grinned slyly. “But now that you’re wet, you weigh just a tiny bit more.”
The hand at the back of his neck pinched his soft flesh.
Hiss…
Zhao Qingyu looked at him with a half-smile. “What was that?”
“I didn’t say anything.”
Shen An shook his head quickly.
“Hmph.”
Zhao Qingyu released his flesh.
The elevator dinged open on the 18th floor.
Shen An had planned to take her straight to her room, but just around the corner, Zhao Qingyu ordered, “Take me to your room first.”
“?”
“What are you looking at? Hurry up.”
“Oh…”
At the door to Shen An’s room, he held her tight with one arm while fumbling his keycard from his pocket with the other.
The position was awkward; it took him some effort to swipe it at the lock.
Beep.
No response.
Puzzled, Shen An tried again.
Beep.
Still nothing.
He blinked. Zhao Qingyu blinked right back. Their eyes met, and silence hung heavy in the air.
“Did I get the wrong room?” Shen An asked, doubt creeping into his voice.
A faint blush of embarrassment colored Zhao Qingyu’s cheeks. She hurriedly fished a card from the pocket of her skirt. “Try this one.”
She couldn’t even bring herself to look at him, her face buried in his chest as she mumbled the words.
Click.
The door lock sprang open.
Shen An let out a soft chuckle. Zhao Qingyu felt guiltier than ever.
