Because it was the National Day holiday, there were even more people returning than when they had come.
Xu Suiran had struggled to squeeze in and managed to snag a row of three seats at the back.
“Xiao Yu, come quick! I’m exhausted!”
The middle seat was actually the most uncomfortable.
Not only was it cramped, but there was also nothing to lean against.
Pu Yu glanced at Yuan Su standing in the aisle and took the initiative to sit in the middle. “I’ll sit here.”
Yuan Su said nothing, silently taking the seat beside her.
The young man was tall, with long legs and arms. Even though he tried his best to keep his movements restrained, there was little room left between them.
With every sway and bump of the bus,
the outline of his arm brushed lightly against her shoulder, sometimes touching, sometimes not.
Xu Suiran had initially been a little unhappy, feeling that Pu Yu was sacrificing too much for herself.
But when she turned and saw how close the two were sitting,
that bit of unhappiness immediately turned into a burning curiosity.
Although Yuan Su was usually gloomy and aloof, and with such a terrible family background that people didn’t dare provoke him lightly,
at this moment—
looking at the two sitting side by side,
it somehow felt… pleasing to the eye?
Her eyes darted around, not daring to tease them openly, so she secretly fished a pack of gummy candies from her bag.
“Xiao Yu, have some candy.”
Pu Yu shook her head. “I don’t eat anything when I’m on the bus.”
Xu Suiran gestured toward Yuan Su with her chin and lowered her voice. “Then ask him if he wants some?”
Pu Yu: “…”
The three of them were sitting so close; it wasn’t like he couldn’t hear.
But Yuan Su simply closed his eyes and leaned back against the seat, as if shutting out the world.
Xu Suiran was still persistently holding out the pack of candy.
Pu Yu had no choice but to brace herself and take it, gently poking Yuan Su’s arm.
The young man’s muscles were firm, the touch slightly hard.
Yuan Su slowly opened his eyes, his deep pupils carrying a hint of annoyance at being disturbed. His voice was low and slightly hoarse. “What?”
“Um…” Pu Yu opened her palm, revealing the adorably packaged gummy candies. “Do you want some candy? Mango flavor.”
Yuan Su glanced down at the candies.
Then he looked at the faint lines in her pale palm.
“Allergic.”
He withdrew his gaze and closed his eyes again. “No.”
The atmosphere became awkward for a moment.
“Ah? Sorry, sorry!” Xu Suiran quickly leaned over. “Sorry, Yuan Su, I think I have grape flavor in my bag too. Do you want—”
“No.”
This time, he didn’t even lift his eyelids, refusing outright.
Xu Suiran stuck out her tongue and retreated.
Pu Yu awkwardly withdrew her hand and stuffed the candy back into Xu Suiran’s bag.
Fortunately, Xu Suiran was utterly exhausted from a day of shopping and soon fell asleep against the bus window, breathing evenly.
Otherwise, who knew what else she might have pulled out for Pu Yu to pass to Yuan Su.
The bus gradually quieted down.
Only the low rumble of the engine remained.
Pu Yu was already prone to motion sickness, and with the stuffy air inside the bus, she soon felt nauseous and uncomfortable.
She closed her eyes, enduring it as her head nodded with every bump of the bus.
Her consciousness gradually grew hazy.
At a sharp turn—
her body uncontrollably tilted to the left.
The skin pressed against his felt almost feverish.
Yuan Su stiffened instantly.
The young man abruptly opened his eyes, his dark pupils contracting slightly as he looked down at the girl leaning against his shoulder.
The weight on his shoulder was light, yet it pinned him down, making it impossible to move.
The girl’s soft hair brushed against the crook of his neck, carrying a faint, grassy scent reminiscent of after the rain, seeping into his nostrils with each breath.
Yuan Su instinctively raised his hand, intending to push this nuisance away.
But in the very next second.
His hand froze mid-air, his gaze falling downward.
Pu Yu’s face was pale, her brows tightly furrowed even in sleep, her long lashes trembling uneasily—clearly, she was not at ease.
That hand meant to push her away.
Could no longer bring itself to fall.
Frowning, he spoke in a fierce tone only the two of them could hear:
“If you dare throw up on me, you’re dead.”
Despite his words, his body gradually relaxed.
Even adjusting his posture imperceptibly to let her lean more steadily, lowering his shoulder slightly to make it more level.
And so.
The bus traveled along the winding road.
The boy sat with his back straight, allowing the girl beside him to lean against him the entire way.
Until the bus entered Baiting Town.
The lingering glow of the sunset streamed through the window.
“Screech—”
The driver slammed on the brakes abruptly.
Pu Yu was jolted awake by the forward momentum.
She opened her eyes in confusion, her consciousness not yet fully returned, when she unexpectedly met a pair of deep, unfathomable eyes.
The distance was too close.
So close that she could see the tiny reflection of herself in his dark pupils, could feel his warm breath brushing against her forehead with each exhale.
In that instant.
The bustling noise around them seemed to recede like a tide.
Her heart beat once, then again.
Pounding with a nervousness and timidity only she was aware of.
Yuan Su’s Adam’s apple moved almost imperceptibly.
He looked at her, his gaze heavy, not immediately shifting his eyes away.
After a moment, he spoke in a suppressed, hoarse voice, “Still not getting up?”
Only then did Pu Yu snap out of her daze.
Realizing she was still resting her head on his shoulder.
She hurriedly sat up straight, her cheeks flushing belatedly: “S-sorry! I… did I lean on you for a long time?”
Yuan Su didn’t reply, merely turning his gaze away and moving his stiff, numb shoulder. After a while, he uttered a single word:
“Yeah.”
His voice was a bit raspy.
“I felt a bit carsick and accidentally fell asleep, I didn’t mean to…”
Pu Yu’s voice grew softer and softer, trying to explain, yet feeling her words were too feeble.
“I know.” Yuan Su stood up, deftly retrieving his bag from the overhead luggage rack, his tone unreadable. “Let’s go.”
Xu Suiran woke up at this moment too, rubbing her eyes and letting out a big yawn:
“We’re here already?”
“Hey, Xiaoyu, why is your face so red? Like you have a fever?”
Pu Yu quickly stood up as well, saying somewhat guiltily, “It’s nothing, let’s get off the bus.”
The three of them disembarked with the crowd.
The evening breeze carried a chill, dispersing the stuffiness inside the bus, but it couldn’t dispel the lingering warmth on Pu Yu’s face.
Xu Suiran went in a different direction, parting ways with them at the intersection after getting off.
Only Pu Yu and Yuan Su remained, walking one after the other toward the narrow alley.
Yuan Su walked ahead, his slender, upright figure casting a long shadow in the sunset.
Pu Yu stepped on his shadow, her mind in turmoil.
They didn’t speak a word the entire way.
Just as Pu Yu thought this silence would last until they reached the doorstep, the person in front suddenly stopped.
Unprepared, she nearly bumped into his back.
Yuan Su didn’t turn around, his voice sounding especially clear in the quiet alley:
“What do you want a Walkman for?”
Pu Yu was taken aback, not expecting him to ask that.
She answered honestly, “To listen to English… my pronunciation isn’t very good.”
He was silent for a few seconds before replying:
“Oh.”
The conversation seemed to end there.
The two fell back into silence, only the sound of footsteps echoing on the bluestone pavement.
That night, the small town was enveloped in tranquil darkness.
Yuan Su pulled up the rolling shutter of the repair shop and ducked inside.
The shop was cluttered with various appliances awaiting repair or already scrapped, the air thick with the mingled scent of machine oil and metal.
He set down his backpack and walked to the workbench against the far wall, switching on the light.
The boy’s gaze swept across the table for a moment.
Finally settling on a dusty cardboard box in the corner.
Inside were several old, long-outdated Walkmans, some of which he had bought by weight from the scrapyard—essentially “corpses.”
Expressionless, he sifted through them, eventually picking out an old Sony model.
The casing was heavily scratched, but the structure of the device was still intact.
…
A long while later.
He reassembled the casing, tightening the last screw.
Then he plugged in the headphones and pressed play.
At first, a faint static hissed through the headphones, followed by clear music flowing out.
He listened, his face showing no particular expression.
It was fixed.
He had used the best belt he could find, cleaned every contact point that might affect the sound quality, and even adjusted the head angle to make the audio cleaner.
But now that it was fixed, what then?
He stared at the Walkman, which after the refurbishment showed almost no signs of wear, but his brows slowly furrowed.
Under the light, the boy’s handsome features were tinged with a hint of frustration and confusion.
He had no use for this thing at all.
So why had he gone to all this trouble to fix it?