Chapter 67

The kiss was brief. Meng Bai pulled away first.

She lay on the bed, gasping for breath, her heart pounding against her ribcage. Her emotions refused to settle for a long time.

As for how she’d ended up kissing Miao Bai in such a muddled haze, Meng Bai couldn’t come up with a reasonable explanation.

All she knew was that Miao Bai hadn’t refused, so she’d leaned in and done it.

The impulse faded, naturally giving way to regret.

“Miao Bai.” Meng Bai cleared her throat. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

“What is there to say?”

Miao Bai’s voice was perfectly calm, betraying no hint of emotion.

Meng Bai’s heart clenched. “Are you mad?”

“No.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Meng Bai still wasn’t convinced. “Then turn on the light.”

It was the desk lamp beside the table—soft light, nothing harsh that might bother Miao Bai.

Click. The lamp flickered on, bathing the room in a warm orange glow and bringing Miao Bai’s features into sharp relief.

Meng Bai glanced at her instinctively, and her heart, which had only just steadied, began racing once more.

There was Miao Bai, leaning against the headboard, her long black hair spilling over her shoulders. The neckline of her nightgown dipped low, baring most of the smooth skin below her collarbones. Her arms gleamed fair and flawless, their elegant lines softened by the gentle light.

Meng Bai was suddenly lost for words. No single term seemed adequate to capture Miao Bai’s beauty.

And thanks to the light, Meng Bai realized Miao Bai wasn’t quite as composed as she’d seemed.

A faint flush colored her cheeks—a subtle blush, barely noticeable, but enough to ease Meng Bai’s worries.

Grinning, Meng Bai complimented her. “Miao Bai, how are you this gorgeous?”

Miao Bai raised a hand to cover Meng Bai’s eyes. “Don’t look.”

Caught up in the moment, Meng Bai leaned in closer. “Why not?”

Click. The light went out again. That was Miao Bai’s reply.

“What’s wrong?”

Miao Bai’s palm pressed fully over Meng Bai’s eyes. “No talking. Sleep.”

“Oh—” Meng Bai hesitated. She really wanted to ask her questions, but in the end, she decided to play along. “Fine. Your call. Let’s sleep.”

All the back-and-forth had worn her out. The rain outside tapered off, leaving the room in peaceful quiet.

Her head grew heavy as she sank into the pillow, drifting off to sleep once more. No nightmares haunted her this time. Instead, she slipped into a beautiful dream.

A very strange beautiful dream.

In it, Meng Bai was all grown up, standing on a bustling city street amid surging crowds. Miao Bai waited across the road.

She strode right over, took Miao Bai’s hand, and Miao Bai followed without hesitation.

In the dream, Miao Bai didn’t vanish into Invisibility or weave Illusion Techniques. She was just an ordinary person. And yet that profound sense of peace filled every corner of the dream.

Selfishly, Meng Bai craved standing eye-to-eye with her like that. She yearned for Miao Bai to be nothing more than ordinary.

The dream stretched on forever. Meng Bai never wanted to wake.

Until morning, when a hand patted her shoulder.

“Get up.”

Meng Bai blinked awake in a daze. The face before her blurred into the dream’s afterimage, sharpening after a moment into those cool, clear features.

She was still foggy. “Huh?”

“Breakfast.”

“Oh. What time is it?”

“Eight.”

“Eight!” Meng Bai bolted upright, heedless of her tangled hair. Barefoot, she hit the floor and scrambled to gather her things, shooting an awkward glance back at Miao Bai. “I’m gonna be late.”

“Class starts this early?”

“New school rule. Morning self-study.”

Miao Bai propped herself up lazily, one hand cradling her head as she fixed Meng Bai with a steady gaze, her voice languid. “Eat first.”

“You got up and made breakfast?” Meng Bai slung her backpack over her shoulder, then froze—she was still in her nightclothes. “No way, I can’t go to school like this. Gotta change.”

She looked at Miao Bai again, emphasizing, “I’m changing clothes now, okay?”

Miao Bai watched her without blinking and nodded. “Go ahead.”

“It’s embarrassing if you’re staring.”

“Oh? Embarrassed now?”

Embarrassed now.

So when had she not been?

That one line sparked Meng Bai’s memories of the night before, flooding her with shyness.

“I-I didn’t mean—” Meng Bai was mortified. “S-sorry? But seriously, don’t watch. I’ll die of embarrassment.”

Miao Bai’s lips quirked faintly. “When did I say I was watching?”

Meng Bai’s face burned crimson. She was flustered and frantic, stamping her foot in frustration, but no words came out.

Miao Bai simply watched, amusement dancing in her eyes, as if Meng Bai’s antics were utterly endearing.

She lowered her gaze, looking away.

“Change. I won’t look.”

Rustling sounds followed as Meng Bai hurried through it. Moments later: “All done!”

“Breakfast is on the table outside.”

“When did you even get up to make it?”

Miao Bai replied coolly, “You know I don’t sleep much.”

The implication: Getting up isn’t a thing in my world.

Meng Bai pressed her lips together, fighting a smile. “Got it. Off to school—I’ll eat in class.”

“Mm.”

No time to linger, but at the door, she turned back. “See you tonight?”

Miao Bai nodded. “Sure.”

Their exchange was utterly mundane, sidestepping last night entirely—a silent, mutual understanding.

She stepped out of the Old Courtyard into the crisp morning. The sunlight lacked summer’s blaze, but Meng Bai’s spirits soared.

She hopped on the mountain bike Meng Xingzhong had bought her and sped down the morning path. Fresh dew-kissed air brushed her cheeks. An unfamiliar elation welled up; she knew exactly who to thank for it—Miao Bai.

She recalled Miao Bai’s lips from the night before, that recent smile.

She had smiled, hadn’t she?

Meng Bai’s own lips curved upward.

From that moment on, she found autumn utterly charming.

She had never liked autumn so much before. Now that things had come to this, she decided autumn itself was a gift from Miao Bai—everything was from Miao Bai.

Before long, the bicycle rolled into town. Along the long stone paths, aunties and uncles haggled over vegetables, and the streets buzzed with life.

Students from their school hurried by with backpacks slung over their shoulders. Meng Bai scanned the crowd and, by pure coincidence, spotted Xu Zhou.

“Hey.” Meng Bai slammed on the brakes right in front of her. “Sauntering along like that—you trying to be late?”

Xu Zhou glanced up and saw Meng Bai. Her furrowed brow smoothed out. “What’s there to worry about? If you’re not scared, why should I be?” She peeked at the empty back seat. “Where’s Zhou An? Not riding with you?”

“Get this—we missed each other this morning. Must’ve left early.” Meng Bai motioned for her to hop on, and they set off together.

Xu Zhou didn’t waste time and climbed on behind her.

The two fell into easy chatter as they rode.

“So, what was up with you yesterday? Storming off into that downpour like a thundercloud. Zhou An was seriously worried.”

“Bad mood.” Meng Bai paused. “But I’m good today.”

“What changed? That Miao Bai of yours?”

Meng Bai nodded. “Yeah.”

“Oh? How’s it going with her?” Xu Zhou’s tone was matter-of-fact, like she’d known all along about Meng Bai’s crush.

Meng Bai nodded again. “Pretty good.” Then she flipped it back. “And you? You and Zhou An?”

The girl behind her shifted uncomfortably. “Huh? Me and Zhou An? What’s there to tell about me and Zhou An…”

Meng Bai shot her a sly, narrowed-eyed grin. “Come on, it’s obvious. Zhou An might be clueless, but I see it.”

Xu Zhou went quiet for a few seconds before coming clean. “Fine, you know everything. But Zhou An? Total airhead. She has no idea.”

“Then be more upfront about it.” Meng Bai rounded a corner; school was just ahead.

“But she doesn’t seem into that stuff at all.” Xu Zhou poked her arm. “You know her best—think she’d ever go for a girl?”

“From what I know? Nah, doesn’t seem like it.”

Xu Zhou’s brow creased. “Figures. Then what I did after school yesterday was straight-up stupid.”

Meng Bai’s interest piqued. “Do tell.”

“I…” Xu Zhou trailed off. “Forget it. Too embarrassing. You just said she wouldn’t like girls.”

“But she wouldn’t like guys either. She’s the type who just isn’t into dating, period.”

“True, but you used to say the same about yourself. Now look at you with Miao Bai.”

Meng Bai thought to herself, Not just a little—she’s got me hooked bad.

“Fair point. Exceptions happen. But Zhou An… who knows. Sigh, couldn’t say who her exception might be.”

That shut Xu Zhou up completely.

Pondering who Zhou An’s exception could be was a rabbit hole Xu Zhou didn’t dare chase. She didn’t have the confidence to believe it might be her.

By the time they pulled up to the school gates, the morning bell was about to ring. The entrance was nearly deserted. Meng Bai locked up the bike in a flash, and they dashed toward the classroom building.

Senior Year 3 had only a handful of classes, and even from a distance, the raucous drone of recitation drifted out—the usual Ode to the Red Cliffs and rote Li Hua essay templates.

Meng Bai slipped into the classroom and dropped into her seat. Another stack of fresh test papers awaited on the desk. A wave of exhaustion hit her. Truth be told, she just wanted to get the College Entrance Exam over with.

No sooner had she sat than Zhou An leaned over. “Off stealing cows or what? I waited forever for you this morning.”

“Overslept.”

“Still moping?”

“Nope.”

“Listen, I’ve got something to tell you.” Zhou An leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper. “But swear you won’t breathe a word.”

Meng Bai fished out her Chinese textbook and pretended to study, murmuring back, “My lips are sealed.”

Zhou An flicked a quick glance over her shoulder—right toward Xu Zhou.

Xu Zhou was buried in her homework, oblivious.

Zhou An scooted closer and whispered, “Found a love letter in my desk this morning.”

Meng Bai nearly shrugged it off—Just chuck it—but then Zhou An pulled out the envelope. A pristine light-blue cover, handmade edges. Simple, tasteful, pretty. No boy Meng Bai knew could pull that off.

She swallowed her quip. “And? What’s the big deal?”

Zhou An hemmed and hawed.

Meng Bai prodded, “Out with it.”

“Well, the letter… super touching. Had me tearing up. And the handwriting…”

Meng Bai raised a brow. “?”

“The handwriting… sigh, the handwriting. Just… the handwriting.”

She circled it forever without finishing.

Meng Bai’s face lit with understanding. “Oh. Say no more. I get it.”