Yue Bai threw herself into Sang Wan’s arms, as if determined to cry out every last drop of her tears. They flowed endlessly, like a spring that refused to stop.
The room was warm, and Sang Wan wore only a thin hoodie. The spot where Yue Bai lay sobbing had soaked through completely, the tears seeping into her skin and leaving a patch of coolness.
Sang Wan waited quietly for Yue Bai to vent her emotions. She bit the tip of her tongue, resting her chin on the top of Yue Bai’s head in silent comfort.
After what felt like an eternity, Yue Bai’s shoulders, which had been shaking with sobs, finally steadied. But she remained nestled in Sang Wan’s embrace, using her clothes to wipe away the very last tear from her eyes.
A moment later, her mood had calmed. She slowly pulled away from the embrace. Avoiding Sang Wan’s gaze, Yue Bai kept her head lowered and rubbed her eyes hard with the back of her hand.
“Dirty.” Sang Wan gently tugged her hand down, holding it briefly in her palm before letting go.
Then she cupped Yue Bai’s face with both hands and slowly lifted it until their eyes met evenly.
Yue Bai’s gaze darted away. The instant she had walked in and seen Sang Wan, a wave of heartache and lingering fear had overwhelmed her, making it impossible to hold back her tears.
“Did something happen on the road?” Sang Wan asked softly, her thumb tracing down Yue Bai’s cheek again and again.
“No.” Yue Bai’s voice still carried the hoarse edge of recent crying.
“Then did you hear something at Zhou Qingyan’s place?” Sang Wan narrowed her eyes, her brown pupils darkening like a deep, fathomless sea that threatened to drown the person before her.
Yue Bai fell silent.
“So that’s it?” Sang Wan understood immediately. “What did she say to make you cry like this?”
“Nothing…” Yue Bai’s response lacked conviction.
“Was it about me and He Shichun?” Sang Wan guessed.
Yue Bai fell silent again.
Seeing her like this, Sang Wan had a pretty good idea. She gently drew Yue Bai back into her arms. “Good girl, it’s okay.”
“It is a problem.” Yue Bai’s voice took on a tearful lilt again, her eyes growing moist once more. “What if something really had happened?”
Sang Wan fell quiet, unsure how to respond.
If Wen Mo and the others hadn’t been there at the time, something might well have happened. She had endured only through sheer physical endurance and force of will until they arrived.
“Good girl, it’s okay.” Sang Wan repeated the words a little dazedly. She shook her head, pulling her thoughts back to the present, and cooed as if soothing a child. “From now on, you protect your Senior Sister, okay?”
“Mm.” Yue Bai hummed through her nose.
“Don’t casually eat things from others,” she mumbled stuffily.
“Okay.”
“Don’t talk to strangers,” Yue Bai continued.
“Okay.”
“And especially don’t have any more contact with that woman.” It was obvious who she meant.
“Okay.” Sang Wan patiently coaxed her along.
With those assurances, Yue Bai’s mood improved. She wriggled out of Sang Wan’s arms and patted her stomach. “You can go make dinner now. I’m hungry.”
“Okay.” The corners of Sang Wan’s lips curved up.
She hadn’t forgotten about food, which meant her head was still clear.
After soothing Yue Bai, Sang Wan headed to the kitchen to finish the last dish.
Yue Bai pulled her feet onto the sofa, curling into a tiny ball and hugging herself tightly.
If only she had gotten close to her Senior Sister sooner.
When Sang Wan emerged carrying the dish, this was the sight that greeted her.
Yue Bai sat dejectedly on the sofa, her long hair draped down her back, her head buried in her knees. Her expression was hidden, but her shoulders twitched faintly with each movement.
Thinking she had started crying again, Sang Wan hurriedly set the dish down and hurried over. “Little Bai?”
“Senior Sister.” Yue Bai lifted her small face. Her big, watery eyes were dazed from all the tears she had shed.
Seeing that she wasn’t crying, Sang Wan felt a little relieved. “Dinner’s ready. Shall we eat now?”
“Okay.” Yue Bai stood up with soft compliance.
At the dinner table, Yue Bai’s appetite wasn’t great after all the crying. She symbolically poked at the feast before her with her chopsticks, took two bites of rice, and then stopped.
Sang Wan kept serving her more food, hoping to encourage her to eat a bit more.
The next time she tried, Yue Bai covered her bowl. “Senior Sister, I really can’t eat any more.”
“Weren’t you just saying you were hungry and wanted me to cook quickly? Now that it’s ready, you’re not eating?” Sang Wan glanced at the barely touched rice in Yue Bai’s bowl and raised an eyebrow.
“But I really can’t…” Yue Bai looked aggrieved.
Sang Wan deftly redirected the food to her own bowl and set down her chopsticks. “Then how about going back to the bedroom to rest?”
“Mm.” Yue Bai nodded and shuffled slowly toward the bedroom.
Sang Wan watched her slouched back, the posture born of her low spirits. Her eyelids lowered, lost in thought.
Yue Bai slumped into the chair at the computer desk, her head dropping limply onto the table. Suddenly, she felt so overly dramatic. She had come back to comfort her Senior Sister out of worry, but instead, she had broken down crying herself and ended up needing to be comforted.
“So useless,” she scolded herself inwardly. “Such a crybaby—how am I supposed to protect Senior Sister like this?”
Sang Wan finished washing the dishes and came into the bedroom.
By silent agreement, neither of them brought up the matter again.
Yue Bai mustered her energy and sidled up to Sang Wan. She took her hand and pressed it against one cheek, rubbing gently against it. “Senior Sister, hug.”
Sang Wan smiled softly and scooped her up onto her lap, pressing their foreheads together. “How are you so good at acting spoiled?”
“Senior Sister, kiss.” Yue Bai ignored her and pressed on.
Sang Wan pecked her on the lips.
“Senior Sister, lift me high.” Yue Bai continued.
Sang Wan’s eyes brimmed with tenderness. She stood up with Yue Bai in her arms, then sat back down.
“Now it’s your turn, Senior Sister.” Yue Bai blinked.
“Hm?” Sang Wan looked puzzled.
“It’s your turn to say ‘kiss,’ ‘hug,’ and ‘lift high.'” Yue Bai explained with dead seriousness.
Sang Wan laughed helplessly.
She tightened her arms, holding Yue Bai a little closer.
“Little Bai, kiss.” Sang Wan mimicked her playfully.
Yue Bai hid the laughter in her eyes and pecked Sang Wan on the cheek.
Sang Wan wasn’t satisfied. “I kissed your lips just now. Fair’s fair—you should do the same.”
“Shall I do it again?” Yue Bai asked tentatively.
“Again.” Sang Wan confirmed.
Yue Bai straightened up. One hand slid behind Sang Wan, pressing lightly, while the other steadied herself on Sang Wan’s shoulder.
“Here it comes, Senior Sister,” she whispered softly.
Sitting on Sang Wan’s lap, she was already half a head taller when she straightened her back. She leaned down, capturing Sang Wan’s lips, enveloping them bit by bit. She sucked gently, her tongue tip emerging slowly to brush against…
Their lips parted. Yue Bai closed her eyes and leaned against Sang Wan’s chest. She licked her own moistened lips, savoring the lingering sensation amid Sang Wan’s ragged breathing and pounding heartbeat.
“Little Bai, hug.” Sang Wan spoke up again.
Yue Bai wrapped her arms around Sang Wan in return.
“Little Bai, lift high.” Sang Wan curved her lips for the final one.
Yue Bai started to wriggle free, intending to pick her up.
“Never mind, no lift high.” Sang Wan’s palm stroked Yue Bai’s slender arm, changing her mind. “Can I have another kiss?”
Yue Bai lifted her head in surprise. The way Sang Wan drew out her words gave her the illusion that her Senior Sister was the one acting spoiled.
Sang Wan’s scent still lingered on her lips, and with those words, Yue Bai felt a fleeting daze of joy.
In a tsundere show of pride, she tilted her chin up. “No.”
Sang Wan saw right through her playful mood and smiled faintly. She leaned forward, brushing her lips against Yue Bai’s earlobe and nipping it lightly. In a breathy whisper, she said, “Please?”
The warm breath against her ear sent tingles racing up Yue Bai’s spine to her brain. Her earlobes flushed red instantly, her cheeks burning hot.
She pushed Sang Wan away, her round eyes wide with disbelief as she stared at the woman before her.
The forceful shove sent Sang Wan leaning back onto the bed, supported by the strength of her core. With Yue Bai still straddling her legs, it created the posture of one looming over the other.
But seeing Sang Wan pushed down, Yue Bai panicked and reached to pull her up. Losing her balance in the scramble, her hands ended up braced on either side of Sang Wan’s head.
Their breaths mingled in the charged, ambiguous atmosphere, leaving Yue Bai mortified.
Her Senior Sister was going to call her dumb again.
Yue Bai pushed off to rise from Sang Wan’s body, but the woman beneath her had no intention of letting her escape.
Sang Wan grabbed Yue Bai’s arm and pulled, her voice adopting that same spoiling tone. “Please?”
Yue Bai’s breath hitched. She looked down at the woman now lying flat on the bed, whose eyes shimmered with an indistinct, hazy emotion that drew her inexorably closer.
“Okay?” Sang Wan coaxed in that same voice when Yue Bai didn’t respond.
“Okay,” Yue Bai heard herself say.
She lowered herself along Sang Wan’s body and kissed those lips that had tempted her with their words.
…
Evening self-study was fast approaching. Yue Bai let out a long sigh, reluctant to leave. “Why did three days fly by so quickly? Back to class already. Boo hoo.”
Sang Wan sat at the computer desk, typing away. She couldn’t help but chuckle. “Then don’t go.”
“No way, I’m a good student.” Yue Bai puffed up with self-praise. “But Senior Sister, how come you can skip evening self-study?”
Sang Wan saved her file. “I have official leave. Aside from actual evening classes, I don’t have to go.”
“Oh~” Yue Bai drew out the sound. “I’m so envious.”
“If you don’t hurry, you’ll be late,” Sang Wan said, glancing at the time displayed in the bottom right corner of her computer screen. Her reminder came in an unhurried tone.
“Oh.” Yue Bai snatched up her tablet in frustration.
“Senior Sister will come pick you up after evening self-study, okay?” Sang Wan asked warmly.
“Okay.”
Seated in the classroom, Yue Bai connected to the campus network and pressed on with her end-of-term assignments.
These days, she not only had to finish her homework but also review history theory material. There was an exam before the semester wrapped up.
Yue Bai was grateful that she had paid close attention in class and taken thorough notes. With everything piling up now, it wasn’t overwhelming her.
After more than an hour of drawing, Yue Bai wearily rubbed the back of her neck. Keeping her head bowed for so long had left it aching fiercely. She kept track of the time, her eyes darting repeatedly toward the door.
Senior Sister was coming to walk her out after evening self-study. The thought alone sent the corners of Yue Bai’s mouth curving upward uncontrollably.
Her slender fingers twirled her pen as she glanced around the classroom. Most students were heads-down, racing through their end-of-term work, with scarcely any chatter breaking the quiet.
Even Xu Nuo, who usually talked the most, had settled in earnestly with her laptop cradled in her lap, focused on her drawing.
After a moment, Yue Bai pulled her gaze away and returned to her own tasks.
“Yue Bai, someone outside is asking for you,” the League Branch Secretary murmured softly. She had just returned from the school meeting and approached Yue Bai’s desk.
Has Senior Sister arrived already? Yue Bai checked the time. There was still half an hour until self-study ended—Senior Sister was early.
