After her repeated refusals fell on deaf ears, Zhu Lexing steeled her resolve: as soon as Yan Mian fell asleep, she would slip away, not lingering for even a moment longer.
In truth, she had grown far too accustomed to Yan Mian’s scent. No sooner had she lain down than she drifted off amid that reassuring lily of the valley fragrance.
When Zhu Lexing opened her eyes, she thought she had only rested for a short while.
Upon taking in her surroundings, she silently closed them again.
The only silver lining was that Yan Mian was no longer in the room. The girl had thoughtfully left a note on a card, her handwriting elegant and refined.
—with two little five-pointed stars doodled in front—
—I’m heading downstairs first.
She checked her phone and found a message waiting there too, clearly left in case she missed the note and worried.
Zhu Lexing opened her camera, snapped a photo of the card, and tapped it open several times to admire before casually tucking it into her bag. She even let out a self-satisfied scoff. “Childish!”
The System watched her antics, falling silent for a few seconds but ultimately refraining from interrupting her private amusement.
Xu He had booked a snorkeling excursion for the day.
When Zhu Lexing went downstairs, the group was gathered around the instructor, listening to the briefing. Yan Mian remained the most striking figure among them. As soon as their eyes met, Yan Mian smiled and called out, “Xingxing.”
Teasing cheers erupted from the others in an instant.
Zhu Lexing ignored them and made her way straight to Yan Mian’s side.
The morning sun shone brilliantly, its rays dancing across the rippling sea.
Halfway to the snorkeling spot on the yacht, the group had already started filming videos—not of the seascape, but of one another’s expressions. Zhu Lexing thought they seemed a little bored, but even faster than the thought, she sidled up to Yan Mian and snapped a quiet selfie with her.
Just before they arrived, Xu He had a sudden inspiration and suggested they film a Graduation Trip video as a memento.
Zhu Lexing perked up at the idea and chatted with her about it. She was about to dive into the logistics when they reached the spot; Xu He instantly cast aside all distractions, tossed out a quick “We’ll talk later,” and plunged into the water.
Those with experience needed no further instruction and were already having a blast. The beginners, too, bravely followed the instructor’s guidance into the depths.
In the end, only Zhu Lexing and Yan Mian remained aboard the yacht.
They leaned against the railing. Zhu Lexing felt the sun growing hotter and tugged her hat brim lower. “Why aren’t you getting in?”
“I’m not very good at it,” Yan Mian admitted honestly. “So I’m a little scared.”
After a brief pause, she asked, “Does Xingxing know how?”
“I do,” said Zhu Lexing.
Before Yan Mian could respond, Zhu Lexing cut in preemptively. “But I’m not teaching you.”
Yan Mian’s long lashes blinked slowly, giving her a crestfallen look.
Zhu Lexing: “…”
Why did the exact same ploy sound so effortlessly natural when Yan Mian used it, while she herself regretted it the moment the words left her mouth?
“Aren’t you going to ask why?” she grumbled awkwardly.
Yan Mian considered it. “If Xingxing doesn’t want to, asking won’t change your mind, right?”
Zhu Lexing thought, Of course you’re different.
But she said nothing, simply picking up a breathing mask. Before Yan Mian could speak again, she brushed aside the girl’s hair and fitted the mask gently over her face.
Zhu Lexing adjusted it carefully, double-checked the fit, and then said coolly, “Because I’m taking you down with me.”
The distinction between “taking” and “teaching” was stark. Yan Mian let out a soft, amused chuckle.
Zhu Lexing entered the water first. Yan Mian gripped the handrail and descended slowly. She felt tense at first upon breaking the surface, but the sight of Zhu Lexing’s face and the Alpha’s instinctively extended hand melted away her anxiety.
…No matter what, Zhu Lexing would be right there beside her.
Zhu Lexing stayed glued to Yan Mian’s side the whole time, catching her to prevent slips and explaining the key techniques. Even after Yan Mian insisted she was fine, Zhu Lexing kept glancing back every few steps.
Only once she was certain Yan Mian had it down did Zhu Lexing finally dive in.
The underwater world was a marvel, like stepping into another realm. Reefs and corals filled her vision, while schools of colorful fish darted past her ears and eyes, their hues even more vivid in the crystal-clear water.
Submerged, Zhu Lexing felt herself puffing up like a sponge—slim and starry-eyed before the dive, bloated and buoyant upon resurfacing.
It wasn’t entirely unreasonable.
As her thoughts drifted, she instinctively glanced back. She had been keeping a close eye on Yan Mian; the Omega was a quick study, mastering the basics after just a few tips and a short practice swim.
Nearby, Li Nian and the others had surfaced for a break. Whatever they were chatting about, their laughter carried clearly over the water.
Zhu Lexing’s curiosity piqued; she was about to ask the System for the gossip when the surface rippled. In the next instant, Yan Mian burst upward and collided straight into her.
They staggered briefly in the water. Zhu Lexing’s arms wrapped instinctively around the girl’s waist. Under the sunlight, the sea shimmered with wavelets. Yan Mian’s hair clung wetly to her skin, her wetsuit hugging her curves and highlighting her porcelain complexion.
She stared at Zhu Lexing, then suddenly tilted her head up. Their masks clinked together, and her lips brushed Zhu Lexing’s in a fleeting kiss.
The others had spotted them by now, their calls ringing out loud and clear.
“Zhu Lexing! Mianmian! What are you waiting for—”
All of Zhu Lexing’s thoughts evaporated. In her vision, there was only Yan Mian.
A few seconds later, she dove sharply underwater. Even as the calls continued, she sent a silent mental reply in bold letters—
—Cooling off! Do not disturb!
They snorkeled all morning. By the time they returned to the hotel, everyone was a touch weary. They agreed to nap first and chat later, then headed to their rooms.
Zhu Lexing was roused by faint voices. Blinking through the lingering haze of sleep, she realized she was still holding Yan Mian around the waist, just as she had been when she drifted off—exactly as the girl had requested.
Yan Mian had her back turned to her, speaking to someone in a hushed voice. “I got it. We’ll head over soon.”
She hung up the phone and glanced sideways, spotting Zhu Lexing.
With the phone’s brightness turned all the way down, Yan Mian whispered, “Xingxing?”
The curtains had been drawn at some point, leaving the room timeless. Zhu Lexing, still groggy from sleep and thinking it was early, mumbled, “Why didn’t you wake me when you got up?”
Yan Mian pulled her into a hug, burying her face in her shoulder and neck. “You wore yourself out taking me snorkeling this afternoon. I wanted you to rest a little.”
Zhu Lexing: “…”
Why did Yan Mian’s words carry such an ambiguous ring? All she’d done was steady her a few times when she nearly stumbled. It made it sound like they’d done something illicit.
Still, she accepted the embrace in silence until her arms started to ache. Only then did she murmur, “All good now?”
“You’ve been clinging to me like this all afternoon.”
Zhu Lexing swallowed her complaints and, like Yan Mian, surrendered to the sweet torment.
It wasn’t until Yan Mian’s phone rang again with an insistent reminder that they finally freshened up and left the hotel. Only then did Zhu Lexing realize that the moon had long risen outside. They’d talked about watching the sunset over lunch, but now the only thing left to watch was the moonset.
The group chat history was filled with their excited banter, competing over who was the true king of barbecuing.
Zhu Lexing had never seen them cook and assumed they were all master chefs, so her expectations soared. That illusion shattered when they arrived at the Barbecue Grounds and she laid eyes on the platters of charred, blackened monstrosities—dishes where the only limit was imagination.
That was when Zhu Lexing learned that words were merely for reference.
Fortunately, it was just a one-off mishap from the so-called master chefs. After Head Chef Song took charge, such disasters never happened again.
A bonfire crackled on the ground. Even with chairs nearby, they all sat cross-legged on the sand without a second thought. To pass the time while waiting, they played a romantic game of Truth or Dare. Truth involved answering personal questions, while Dare had just one rule—
Eat the dark cuisine!
The game was brutally practical: spin the bottle, and whoever it pointed to had to choose between truth or dare, decided by the spinner.
Zhu Lexing wasn’t nervous at first, but seeing everyone else desperately hoping to avoid it rubbed off on her inexplicably.
Yet even after the platters of dark cuisine were scraped clean and Yan Mian had been hit with a boring question like “How exactly do you score so high on exams?”, Zhu Lexing still hadn’t been chosen.
Yan Mian’s hand rested on the bottle. As it spun, Zhu Lexing smirked coldly. “Not so impressive after all!”
The next second, everyone saw the bottle mouth pointing straight at Zhu Lexing.
Li Nian echoed, “Not so impressive after all.”
Zhu Lexing stared at Yan Mian in disbelief. The girl’s eyes sparkled with delight. “Blame it on luck.”
“Fine.” Any further grumbling from Zhu Lexing evaporated at the sight of Yan Mian’s joyful expression. “What do you want to ask?”
Yan Mian thought for a moment but before she could speak, Xu He jumped in with advice. “Ask her when exactly she fell for you!”
Li Nian chimed in, “You should definitely ask why she suddenly turned over a new leaf.”
“…Or why she won’t admit she likes you.”
The suggestions came fast and furious, each one hitting a sore spot.
Zhu Lexing was already pondering how to answer without sounding too perfunctory if Yan Mian actually asked when the girl shook her head, turning down each one in turn.
Yan Mian offered no explanation, simply looking at Zhu Lexing.
Everyone assumed she had something explosive up her sleeve and held their breath. Zhu Lexing did the same.
“My question is,” Yan Mian said solemnly, “Zhu Lexing, what do you want to eat for breakfast tomorrow?”
Protests erupted around them, decrying the “unfairness.” Zhu Lexing started to protest too but gave up any pretense of dignity and burst out laughing.
Zhu Lexing had no idea when she fell asleep. When she opened her eyes again, the moon hung high in the sky.
The sea breeze whispered by, carrying the warm, humid breath of the night. The white sand beneath her was soft and yielding. The bonfire had dimmed to embers, and the world had fallen silent.
Yan Mian leaned against her shoulder, fast asleep and unusually still. Gazing at her sleeping face, Zhu Lexing turned her eyes back to the moonlight.
She suddenly wished time could freeze right here.
In the quiet, she felt the sea breeze on her skin, only to hear a faint rustle nearby.
The next moment, a faint lily of the valley fragrance drifted closer, and her cheek received the lightest of kisses.
Someone whispered softly.
“Happy graduation, Xingxing.”
Zhu Lexing froze and opened her eyes.
The girl looked at her in surprise.
Zhu Lexing reached out, touching her face, and pressed a gentle kiss to the girl’s soft lips.
—Time was still most beautiful when it flowed.
