Even though she had given Gu Xing a few bites of noodles in advance, Ruan Xingmian still ate too much.
There was beef and potatoes, eggs and vegetables, and the noodles that easily filled her stomach.
After eating, she felt uncomfortably bloated, worse than the morning’s dry heaving.
Gu Xing was so alarmed that he fetched a basin for her, frowning as he watched her retch.
Nothing came up.
“My stomach is small; I can’t eat much.”
Most models have sensitive stomachs. Take Sang Rou, for example—whatever she eats, she immediately goes to the bathroom to force it back up.
The original owner found the idea of eating and then vomiting disgusting and refused to lose weight that way. Her willpower was extraordinary; even when starving to the point of low blood sugar, she wouldn’t touch a bite of delicacies placed before her, all to look thinner on stage.
So her stomach was relatively fine, not corroded by stomach acid, just small in capacity.
“Drink some water.” Gu Xing lowered his gaze, lips slightly pursed.
Ruan Xingmian crouched on the floor and, seeing his worried expression, smiled gently as she took the cup from his hand. “It’s fine. This morning was worse. I’ll just walk around a bit and feel better.”
His large hand patted her back lightly, not daring to use too much force. “Alright,” he said.
Gu Xing was washing dishes in the kitchen.
He seemed quite skilled at household chores, neither pretending not to see them nor acting clueless.
After recovering, Ruan Xingmian had nothing to do, so she paced around the living room rug, marking video footage to help with digestion.
When she turned around, Gu Xing had been standing at the kitchen doorway for a while.
“What’s wrong?”
“I wanted to take you out for a walk.” His damp eyes held the unspoken second half of the sentence: but I was afraid you wouldn’t want to.
Ruan Xingmian tilted her head and smiled. “Sure.”
She went inside to change into sportswear—warm and mosquito-proof.
When they reached the school gate, Ruan Xingmian asked Gu Xing to take a night photo for her. Then, complaining of sore legs, she turned back.
Gu Xing was a well-known figure on campus, a top student in a prestigious major.
She thought it best to avoid drawing attention, not wanting to give anyone a chance to use her, currently seen as useless, to slander Gu Xing.
Fortunately, they didn’t run into any of Gu Xing’s acquaintances. Walking ahead, she was in a fairly good mood.
Gu Xing followed half a step behind, seemingly preoccupied.
When they reached the door, Gu Xing didn’t come inside.
Ruan Xingmian knew it was time for him to leave.
These three hours together had felt incredibly short.
“Tomorrow morning, let’s meet downstairs.”
Gu Xing hesitated. “…Alright.”
Ruan Xingmian had already planned the route. If they left early, they could return in time to make lunch.
“So… see you tomorrow?”
She looked up at Gu Xing and noticed something unspoken in his eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
Gu Xing shook his head slightly and waved, urging her to go inside. “Lock the door properly.”
Ruan Xingmian quickly grabbed his hand. “Gu Xing, is something on your mind?”
The next moment, her fingers were clasped, gently rubbed, and enveloped in his warm, large hand.
Gu Xing looked at their joined hands, the ice in his eyes melting into frosty blossoms.
It suddenly dawned on Ruan Xingmian. Earlier, at the university gate, she had slipped accidentally. Gu Xing had rushed over anxiously, his fingers brushing against the back of her hand several times.
But fearing they might run into his classmates or teachers, she hadn’t let him hold her hand, avoiding it several times.
Had he wanted to hold her hand all along?
“Did you want to hold my hand the whole time?” Ruan Xingmian asked with a tilted smile.
“…Yes.”
That was it.
Gu Xing was like a pre-programmed computer, giving an affirmative answer without hesitation.
He leaned against the doorframe, his left hand holding Ruan Xingmian’s.
His expression was unusually earnest.
The distance between them was too close.
Ruan Xingmian could also see the faint white scar on his slender index finger and the hidden smile in the corners of his downturned eyes.
“We’re boyfriend and girlfriend. You can hold my hand anytime.”
Just not at your school.
She couldn’t help but coax him, hoping he would be happier tonight.
“What’s with taking a walk so late at night? Bored enough to play the Night Patrol Deity…”
The door across from them opened.
An elderly couple walked out.
They were well-dressed—the woman had a kind and gentle expression, while the man looked stern and fierce.
Eight eyes met.
The old lady teased her husband with a smile: “Learn from this young couple. Hold my hand, or I might wander off if you don’t.”
The old man shot a fierce glance their way but stubbornly took his wife’s hand: “Hold what? It’s so hot my hand is sweating.”
As the elderly couple supported each other down the stairs, Gu Xing still tightly gripped Ruan Xingmian’s hand, refusing to let go.
Ruan Xingmian’s face flushed. Holding hands for this long was enough, wasn’t it?
She tilted her head to look at him: “Do you have something to tell me? It’s time to go back to the dorm.”
The dorm would be closing soon.
“Not going back to the dorm,” Gu Xing stared at her face, repeating seriously, “Not going back to the dorm tonight.”
Hearing this, Ruan Xingmian’s smile froze. She pulled her hand back and glanced over her shoulder at her bedroom, which had no bed.
And the three-seater sofa that could barely fit her alone.
“Not going back to the dorm? Do you want to stay at my place?”
Wasn’t this moving a bit too fast?
Besides, with no bed or bedding, where would Gu Xing sleep?
Though it wasn’t entirely impossible—her cement floor was scrubbed clean, and with an old bedsheet laid out, a makeshift bed on the floor could work.
Gu Xing didn’t seem like the picky type.
Who would have thought he was this attached to her?
They’d only been apart for three days, and now he wouldn’t let go.
Her heart trembled, her ears growing hot and itchy. Ruan Xingmian felt like tugging at her own ears too.
“I booked a hotel near the hospital,” Gu Xing handed her his phone screen, “a twin room.”
“So…” Ruan Xingmian began to stammer from nervousness, “this is what you wanted to say all along?”
“Mm.”
When Ruan Xingmian was nervous, her fidgeting increased, her gaze grew unfocused, and her words became jumbled.
“Well then,” she nodded and gently nudged Gu Xing, “you go ahead tonight, and we’ll meet at the hospital entrance tomorrow morning…”
Her hand was grasped again.
Ruan Xingmian tried to pull away.
Hey, he held on even tighter.
“I’m not going, is that not allowed?” Ruan Xingmian feigned nonchalance, brushing aside nonexistent bangs.
Young man, have you already moved past the trauma of sharing a hotel room with your older sister?
He suddenly moved closer, bracing one hand against the wall beside her.
So close that she could see the shadow of his eyelashes beneath his eyes and the flickering light in his pupils.
Okay, not saying a word, playing the wall-pin game with your older sister.
The streetlight flickered on and off, casting their shadows onto the mottled wall, where they merged into one, like an ambiguous silhouette painting.
When it came to playing with ambiguity, how could Ruan Xingmian lose to a twenty-three-year-old innocent college boy?
Gu Xing pinned her against the wall.
She reached up, grabbed his collar, and pulled hard.
The two, already close, pressed even closer together.
Gu Xing stood firm, his lower body unmoving.
His upper body obediently leaned in.
In his previously calm pupils, a wave of turbulence suddenly stirred.
At the same time, Ruan Xingmian rose onto her tiptoes, her forehead brushing against Gu Xing’s jawline as the tip of her nose grazed his prominent Adam’s apple.
Gu Xing froze as if someone had pressed pause on him.
Three seconds.
Two seconds.
One second.
His Adam’s apple bobbed sharply as he fumbled to end the kabedon.
Ruan Xingmian looked up at him and noticed the tips of his ears turning visibly red, spreading from his earlobes down to his neck, staining the collar of his white T-shirt with a faint blush.
Under the dim light, Gu Xing looked thoroughly roasted.
“What’s wrong?” Why aren’t you continuing the kabedon? Xingmian pressed on, feigning ignorance.
“It’s… too sudden…” His voice trembled, carrying the uniquely hoarse quality of a teenager, like a snapped guitar string.
His gaze darted around, like an aloof Pallas’s cat caught misbehaving.
This version of Gu Xing was so amusing and vivid that it warmed Xingmian’s heart.
“Then what do you want?” Xingmian didn’t even realize her voice could soften to this extent. “If you don’t say it, how am I supposed to know?”
Gu Xing stood at the boundary between light and shadow, yet his eyes shone startlingly bright.
He said, “Tonight, I want to be with you.”