Chapter 22

Afraid?

Tang Tianman rewound time in her mind for a good while before she remembered—how could she possibly be afraid?

The last time she and Zheng Xiyu had met, they hadn’t even said goodbye. After Zheng Xiyu spoke those words, Tang Tianman had bolted like a fireball rolling away.

She had been running, her steps utterly panicked, which was why she’d tripped on the road and nearly faceplanted.

Someone nearby seemed to have tried to steady her, but she’d dodged away.

From that moment on, all her inexplicable good mood had been shrouded in an inexplicable shadow.

She was mad at Zheng Xiyu, baffled by her, hated her, wanted to cut ties with her… and missed her.

Then she got even madder at Zheng Xiyu, more baffled, hated her more, and felt deeply wronged.

Tang Tianman sniffed and said, “Like hell I’m scared of you.”

Zheng Xiyu was hanging her head, her expression hidden, but her posture seemed even more aggrieved than Tang Tianman’s. “Anyway, I won’t do that again.”

“Do what?” Tang Tianman asked.

Zheng Xiyu lifted her eyes, meeting Tang Tianman’s gaze for a second. “You know.”

Tang Tianman kicked her with her foot.

Zheng Xiyu never fought back against Tang Tianman’s outbursts.

That calm, indifferent demeanor would strike others as disdain for bickering with someone so much weaker, but to Tang Tianman, it always carried a hint of indulgence.

Tang Tianman figured she’d just never hung out with someone like Zheng Xiyu before, which was why she had so many misunderstandings now.

In the end, it was her own issue. Seeing Zheng Xiyu’s good attitude in admitting fault, Tang Tianman decided to give her one more chance.

“Knowing you’ve done wrong is a good start.” She sat down, adopting the air of a senior sister. “You need to think about how your habitual behaviors affect others and what impressions they leave. Always acting like this will lead to misunderstandings.”

Zheng Xiyu looked up at her, as if about to speak, then swallowed her words.

Tang Tianman shot her a sideways glance. “What? Am I wrong?”

“Mm-hm.” Zheng Xiyu said.

“Mm-hm what? Does that mean I’m wrong or right?” Tang Tianman pressed, determined to reclaim the face she’d lost in front of Zheng Xiyu earlier.

Zheng Xiyu tugged at the corner of her mouth in a smile but didn’t answer.

Tang Tianman cleared her throat. “Fine, let me communicate this a bit more.”

“Okay.” Zheng Xiyu nodded, propping her elbows on her knees and watching Tang Tianman intently.

“You said before that friends should be sincere, let loose, and not hold back.” As Tang Tianman spoke, her anger flared up again. “I was sincere. Were you? Have you been sincere?”

Zheng Xiyu’s lips twitched.

“Sincere?” Tang Tianman stared at her lips. “Do I know what you’re really thinking?”

“No.” Zheng Xiyu finally admitted. “Not sincere.”

“See?” Tang Tianman spread her hands, suddenly feeling deflated. She turned and flopped face-down on the desk. “Fine, we’ve looked at the photos. You can go now.”

Zheng Xiyu asked, “You hate me now?”

Tang Tianman replied without hesitation, “Yep.”

“The ginkgos in Memorial Park have turned yellow.”

“So? It’s their time to turn.”

“The maples on Back Mountain are red now too.”

“So? Am I supposed to stop them?”

“You said if I wanted to, you’d take me to see them.”

Tang Tianman fell silent.

She’d thought Zheng Xiyu was just changing the subject at first, but this line reminded her—it was a promise she’d made to Zheng Xiyu.

Back then, they’d just met, and the underclassman had been such an obedient, adorable girl. So Tang Tianman had run her mouth and made a string of promises.

Now the Big Tail Wolf had come to cash one in.

Tang Tianman wasn’t the type to go back on her word. She coughed, wondering how to phrase it, when Zheng Xiyu added, “Don’t you like photography? The day after tomorrow’s supposed to be sunny—the last chance to shoot the ginkgos before a rain washes them all off.”

She sure knew how to give her an excuse. Tang Tianman furrowed her brows, staring at the photos on the computer. “Be sincere.”

Zheng Xiyu paused, then said, “I want to go see them.”

Four words, delivered with perfect confidence.

Tang Tianman pursed her lips. Suddenly, Zheng Xiyu grabbed her sleeve. “Senior Sister, take me.”

Tang Tianman was stunned.

Zheng Xiyu wasn’t shaking it or anything—just pinching a small fold of fabric with her fingertips—but it was enough to shock Tang Tianman.

A six-foot-four absolute powerhouse, acting spoiled toward her!

Damn, that felt good.

Felt amazing.

Especially knowing Zheng Xiyu wasn’t nearly as innocent as she seemed.

Made it feel even better.

“Ahem, ahem.” Tang Tianman coughed, barely holding back a laugh. “So… the day after tomorrow will really be sunny?”

Zheng Xiyu immediately pulled out her phone and opened the weather app. “Sunny all day, high chance.”

“Fine.” Tang Tianman clapped her hands magnanimously. “We’ll see about the weather.”

“Okay.” Zheng Xiyu smiled. She stood up. “I won’t bother you anymore then. I’m heading out.”

Mission accomplished, and she was already retreating—truly heartless. Tang Tianman muttered, “If it weren’t for this, you wouldn’t have even thought of the ginkgos…”

“I did think of them.” Zheng Xiyu shot back instantly. “I told you, I’ve been holding back…”

She stopped there.

Tang Tianman kept her head down, silent.

Zheng Xiyu hesitated for a long moment before murmuring softly, “If you need anything, just call me.”

Tang Tianman stayed buried in her arms.

Zheng Xiyu said, “See you.”

The door creaked open.

Tang Tianman grabbed her phone and messaged Ruan Ruan: She’s gone. Come back.

Less than two minutes later, the door creaked again. Tang Tianman knew it—on a day this cold, those two wouldn’t have gone far, probably just to someone else’s dorm. No way they’d gone downstairs.

“Ruan, I’m so worried…” Tang Tianman complained weakly. What she needed right now was a hug from her dear bestie.

But Ruan Ruan didn’t come over. Tang Tianman turned and saw Zheng Xiyu.

“Damn,” she cursed.

Zheng Xiyu looked even more awkward. “I just wanted to say one more sincere thing.”

“Spit it out!” Tang Tianman snapped fiercely.

Zheng Xiyu visibly took a small step back. “That wasn’t a habit. I won’t do it again. See you, Senior Sister.”

Creak.

Zheng Xiyu bolted.

Tang Tianman: “…”

When Ruan Ruan and Li Tong returned to the dorm, they found a dead snake sprawled across the desk.

Ruan Ruan poked and prodded at Tang Tianman, but she lay there limp and soulless, soft and dazed.

“What happened?” Li Tong asked. “What did you two do? We ran into Zheng Xiyu downstairs just now—she ran into the rain without even opening her umbrella.”

Tang Tianman waved her hand, not wanting to talk.

Ruan Ruan stood in front of her, stroking from the top of her head down her back, over and over, gentle like a mother. “Don’t be sad, kiddo. I get it. I totally get it.”

Tang Tianman spoke up. “At least I’m a little better off than you.”

Li Tong: “Damn, hahaha…”

The rain pattered down all night again, but it stopped the next day—though the sky stayed overcast.

On her way to class, Tang Tianman sometimes tilted her head back to wait, only for a stray raindrop to land on her face from who-knows-where.

By evening, it was like the heavens had set an alarm—rain time again.

As Tang Tianman and Ruan Ruan walked back from the study room, she said, “With all this rain, the ground’s soaked.”

“Yeah,” Ruan Ruan agreed.

Tang Tianman: “Water in the grass, water on the leaves.”

“Yeah.”

Tang Tianman: “No sun, how are the trees supposed to turn? They’ll just drop half-green, half-yellow.”

“Yeah.”

Tang Tianman: “So what’s there to see?”

Ruan Ruan: “See what?”

Tang Tianman: “Nothing to see.”

Ruan Ruan: “Then what is worth seeing?”

Tang Tianman: “I clearly said there’s nothing worth seeing.”

Ruan Ruan: “…Damn, I feel like you two have been bullying me lately.”

Ruan Ruan had been pretty pitiful recently. With the weather turning cold, she was eating more.

By her logic, animals had to stockpile fat for winter—she couldn’t fight her beastly instincts.

But she kept bumping into Jiang Xue, unintentionally, on this path or that, in the library, in the cafeteria.

The moment she saw Jiang Xue, she’d touch her own face and wonder why—same species, yet Jiang Xue was so slim, so refreshed, so… still didn’t recognize her.

It left her mocked endlessly by Li Tong and Tang Tianman, doubting herself.

Tang Tianman should have comforted her, but she hadn’t sorted out her own worries yet. Besides, she suspected her and Ruan Ruan’s troubles were the same once untangled.

So she’d wait until her own cleared up.

With those thoughts, Tang Tianman felt like the umbrella she held had turned into a delicate oil-paper one.

Another night of rain. Before bed, Tang Tianman checked her chat with Zheng Xiyu. It was quiet, still sitting at the last call record.

She didn’t sleep well. In the faint morning light, she woke to the day after tomorrow.

Her phone buzzed.

Rubbing her puffy eyes, Tang Tianman squinted at the screen. A message from Zheng Xiyu: three words—Sun’s out!

The sun wasn’t the point—which day didn’t have one? The point was the exclamation mark.

Damn, an exclamation mark! Tang Tianman snapped awake. For this cold, silent machine to use an exclamation mark, she had to be thrilled!

Tang Tianman suddenly felt her fingertips trembling slightly. She grabbed some clothes and threw them on before rolling off the bed.

She dashed out to the balcony and flung the door open. A crisp, biting wind swept in, revealing the Back Mountain’s forest in a riot of vibrant colors. Atop the peak hung a faint, hazy sun, barely piercing through the thin veil of clouds.

Tang Tianman replied to her, “Yeah, a bit.”

Zheng Xiyu asked, “Want some breakfast?”

Tang Tianman replied, “Sure, why not.”

“Five minutes.”

It really was a test of a girl’s morning routine speed. Tang Tianman bolted back into the room and into the bathroom. She freshened up in a frenzy, then rummaged through her closet for a coat that wasn’t too bulky.

By the time she made it downstairs to Building 9, exactly five minutes had passed.

She turned her head and spotted Zheng Xiyu running toward her—then froze completely.

No, it wasn’t just Zheng Xiyu running toward her. It was a tall, stunning beauty sprinting her way. Tang Tianman’s brain short-circuited for a second before she registered who it was.

Zheng Xiyu actually owned clothes besides her tracksuit and school uniform.

Zheng Xiyu had hairstyles other than her usual high ponytail.

And her casual outfit? Fashionable?

Stylish?

Colorful?

Chic?

Absolutely photogenic?

Yes—perfect for photos.

Tang Tianman’s mouth hung open, refusing to close.

Zheng Xiyu held out the breakfast bag right in front of her. “Your favorite.”

Tang Tianman stared blankly, not taking it, her mouth still agape.

“What’s wrong?” Zheng Xiyu asked.

Tang Tianman bounced on her toes. “You did your makeup?!”

Zheng Xiyu leaned down, tilting her face for closer inspection. “Does it look okay?”

Tang Tianman blurted, “Damn.”

Zheng Xiyu straightened up. “If it’s not good, I’ll have them redo it…”

“It’s fine,” Tang Tianman said quickly.

“Alright then.” Zheng Xiyu shook her head lightly, still looking a bit awkward.

“Who did this for you?” Tang Tianman asked. “These braids must’ve taken forever.”

“A friend. She spent the whole night messing with my hair.”

“The makeup too?”

“Yeah. I dragged her out of bed this morning…”

“And she didn’t deck you?”

“Nah.” Zheng Xiyu grinned. “I told her I had a date.”

Damn, here it comes again—that classic Zheng big-tailed-wolf smooth talk…

Damn, but this big-tailed wolf doesn’t lie…

“Mostly ’cause I know you like it.” Zheng Xiyu paused, then said, “Photographer? Is your model up to par?”

Tang Tianman snatched the breakfast and turned to walk away.

“Sun’s gonna be fully out in twenty minutes,” Zheng Xiyu called after her. “When do we head out?”

Without looking back, Tang Tianman stared at the dormitory rules posted under Building 9. “Twenty minutes.”

Zheng Xiyu’s voice carried a laugh. “You don’t have class?”

“Nope.”

She’d turned into a little-tailed wolf herself.

The lying kind.