CS - 15

If not for the voice coming through the earpiece being so real, Lin Zhe Xia might have thought she was dreaming.

How could it be that just a second ago, she was thinking about Chi Yao,

And the next second, she received his call?

“Lin Zhe Xia,” while she was still stunned, he called her name on the other end and asked, “Can you hear me?”

“...”

“If you can hear me, say something.”

Lin Zhe Xia sat up and pressed the light switch; her bedroom instantly lit up.

She pulled back the covers and got out of bed, speaking into her phone: “I heard you.”

Holding her phone, she opened the door and saw him leaning by the elevator entrance.

Chi Yao had come out in such a hurry that he didn’t even wear a coat. His hair was disheveled, hanging over his forehead, and his entire figure seemed to carry the chill of the night. He was holding a transparent umbrella, its tip facing down, dripping water.

Seeing her open the door, he ended the call with a flick of his finger.

After entering the house, Lin Zhe Xia asked, “You’re wearing so little. Are you cold? Do you want hot water or tea?”

“Water.”

She turned towards the kitchen and asked again, “Why are you still awake so late?”

Chi Yao: “I came to check if a certain coward is hiding under the covers trembling.”

As the mentioned coward herself, Lin Zhe Xia choked for a moment.

She handed him the cup of water: “Even though what you said is true, could you give me some face?”

Chi Yao took the cup: “How?”

Lin Zhe Xia: “For example, find another excuse. Just don’t say it directly like that.”

Chi Yao’s pale knuckles rested on the glass. Lin Zhe Xia was already prepared to be refused, but then he slightly tilted his head and thought for two seconds: “Then should I say it again?”

“Okay.”

Lin Zhe Xia nodded and asked again: “Chi Yao, why are you still awake so late?”

Chi Yao’s tone was flat: “I couldn’t sleep. I went out for a walk in the middle of the night.”

Lin Zhe Xia: “…”

Chi Yao: “Is there a problem? Is there a law against walking in the middle of the night?”

Lin Zhe Xia: “Going for a walk at 1:30 AM seems a bit far-fetched.”

Chi Yao tonight seemed unusually accommodating.

He was silent for two seconds and then came up with another excuse: “Actually, I’m also very scared. I was woken up by the thunder. I’m really afraid.”

“This reason works,” Lin Zhe Xia naturally went along with it: “Don’t be afraid. Since you’ve come to me, I’ll protect you.”

Chi Yao nodded slightly: “Thank you.”

Lin Zhe Xia: “You’re welcome.”

“Since you’re so afraid,” Lin Zhe Xia brought out the blanket from her bedroom, “Why don’t we sleep in the living room tonight? I’ll take the sofa, you take the floor. This blanket is for you.”

Chi Yao leaned against the wall watching her fuss, his tone indifferent: “Your house has unique hospitality rules. Guests can’t wash dishes but can sleep on the floor.”

Lin Zhe Xia, who was laying out mats on the floor: “…”

“It’s all your fault,” after finishing, she placed the pillow on top. “I actually wanted to give you the sofa, but you’re too tall. Your superior physical condition makes the sofa unsuitable for you.”

Before Chi Yao could open his mouth, she belittled herself further, leaving him speechless: “And me, I’m just short.”

In the end, Chi Yao could only say: “I didn’t expect you to be so self-aware.”

Lin Zhe Xia: “It’s appropriate.”

The living room was warm, and even without a blanket, it wasn’t cold. But Lin Zhe Xia still wrapped herself up and curled up on the sofa, preparing to sleep.

Chi Yao wasn’t ready to sleep yet. He sat cross-legged on the carpet, leaning against the sofa.

Outside the window, lightning and thunder continued to flash and roar, occasionally lighting up the sky.

Perhaps because there was someone else in the house, Lin Zhe Xia suddenly felt the thunder was much farther away.

The central light in the living room was already off.

Only a faint small lamp remained lit.

Lin Zhe Xia lay with her eyes open, through the dim light, she saw the slender neck of the young man.

“Chi Yao.” Lin Zhe Xia called him.

Chi Yao hummed to indicate he was listening.

Apart from the sounds outside the window, only the intermittent conversation between the two remained.

“What are you doing?”

“Xu Ting messaged me. I’m replying to him.”

“He’s still awake this late?”

“Yeah, he’s sick.”

Lin Zhe Xia reminded: “We’re not sleeping either.”

Chi Yao said: “It’s different.”

Lin Zhe Xia: “...How is it different?”

Chi Yao: “Because I’m biased.”

“...”

There was silence for a while.

Lin Zhe Xia whispered again: “What do you want to eat tomorrow morning?”

She added: “I’m a bit hungry. Tomorrow morning, I want to eat soup dumplings.”

“Then you need to sleep first,” Chi Yao said.

“Oh.”

Lin Zhe Xia closed her eyes.

The thunder outside had stopped. With her eyes closed, she heard the pitter-patter of the rain.

She remembered the first time she revealed her fear of thunder in front of Chi Yao—it was many, many years ago.

So long ago that she couldn’t remember the exact year.

It was probably the second year after they moved here. That night, there was a thunderstorm.

At that time, Lin Zhe Xia was still the “tigress” of the neighborhood, and Chi Yao was still her unilaterally acknowledged “little brother.”

That night, Lin He and Wei Ping went to a colleague’s dinner party, then went singing afterward. By the time they were heading home, it was past midnight. The rain intensified due to the weather, and their phones ran out of battery, leaving them stuck on the road.

Lin Zhe Xia had never shown her fear of thunder to Lin He because as long as someone was at home, she wasn’t that scared. So Lin He only knew her dislike of thunderstorms and assumed she would already be asleep at this hour.

But that night, Lin Zhe Xia hadn’t fallen asleep.

She clutched her phone, her whole body tense, continuously calling Lin He.

“The number you dialed is currently switched off…”

“Please leave a message after the beep…”

“…”

Lin Zhe Xia’s lips were pale as she thought to herself:

Why can’t I get through?

Even just answering the call would be enough.

Just hearing a voice would suffice.

The successive waves of fear were like rising tides, almost swallowing her whole.

In the end, she didn’t know what she was thinking. Without an umbrella, she braved the rain and squatted at Chi Yao’s doorstep. When Chi Yao opened the door, she was completely soaked.

“I just went out,” she shivered, making excuses, “and forgot my keys.”

“…”

The miniature version of Chi Yao stood at the door and looked at her for a while: “You went out in the middle of the night?”

“Is that not allowed?” she shivered, “I just like going out in the middle of the night.”

Eventually, Chi Yao let her in, giving her a set of unused clothes and a towel.

Back then, Lin Zhe Xia still had short hair. After changing into men’s clothes, she looked like a little boy.

Initially, Chi Yao thought she was shaking uncontrollably because she was tired from getting drenched in the rain. But half an hour after entering the house, Lin Zhe Xia was still huddled in the corner of the sofa, trembling.

Chi Yao seemed to ask her several times, “Are you cold?” but she didn’t respond.

Until Chi Yao stood in front of her and reached out to feel her temperature, she finally snapped out of it.

“When I was little,” Lin Zhe Xia felt the warmth touching her forehead, pulling her back. Suddenly, she couldn’t hold back and said, “My dad left like this.”

“He had another woman outside, and... another child.”

“The thunder was loud. I begged him for a long time, but he still left.”

These words had been buried deep in her heart.

She was afraid Lin He would worry, so she had never told anyone.

This fear she had kept hidden, even Lin He didn’t know about it.

From that moment on, one more person knew.

Lin Zhe Xia closed her eyes, and as she pulled away from her memories, she heard some rustling sounds beside her. Chi Yao had lain down.

Their positions were very close. The sofa wasn’t high to begin with. If she lowered her hand and shifted a bit to the side, she could touch Chi Yao’s hair.

She reached out and pulled the blanket up a bit, covering her nose, and mumbled, “Chi Yao, Chi Yao, are you asleep?”

“No.”

“I can’t sleep.”

“…”

“Do you know any stories?” Lin Zhe Xia said again, “Maybe if I listen to a story, I’ll fall asleep faster.”

Chi Yao retorted: “How old are you?”

Lin Zhe Xia: “I’m three years old this year.”

Telling bedtime stories was just something she said casually.

After all, Chi Yao and the phrase “bedtime stories” didn’t go together at all.

He was more suited to telling dark fairy tales.

But Chi Yao tonight was so agreeable, agreeable enough that she couldn’t help but make some excessive requests.

In the darkness, the living room was quiet for a while, then there was a slight sound, followed by a faint glow below the sofa as Chi Yao unlocked his phone.

“What do you want to hear?”

“Anything. Preferably a story suitable for girls.”

After a long pause, Chi Yao began emotionlessly: “A long time ago, there was a group of wild boars.”

Lin Zhe Xia, curled up under the blanket, felt a bit suffocated: “Do you have any misunderstanding about girls?!”

After a while.

Chi Yao scrolled through his phone for a long time before finding one: “In the forest, there was a group of little rabbits... Hmph, rabbits should work, right.”

This one was acceptable.

A story related to rabbits shouldn’t have any bizarre twists.

Lin Zhe Xia stopped talking and let him continue.

Chi Yao still told the story without much emotion, and even his words subtly conveyed a sense of “what kind of stupid story is this.” However, because his voice was much softer, coupled with the ambiance of the night, Lin Zhe Xia actually found the sound in her ear somewhat gentle.

“The little rabbits went out to pick carrots. Little rabbit Tutu—” he paused to complain, “What kind of name is this.”

Lin Zhe Xia: “Don’t improvise. It ruins the atmosphere of the story.”

Chi Yao: “It’s already a rabbit. Is it necessary to name it Tutu?”

Lin Zhe Xia: “…Never mind.”

Chi Yao: “I’m the storyteller. I think it’s awkward.”

Lin Zhe Xia curled up in the blanket, too lazy to argue with him, and said casually, “Then change its name.”

Chi Yao’s voice paused for a moment, then continued in a lukewarm tone: “Little rabbit Xia Xia took her basket and beloved lotus leaf umbrella and went out.”

“…”

“Even if you want to change the name,” Lin Zhe Xia felt a strong sense of shame, “don’t use my name!”

This boring carrot-picking story was quite long.

In the middle, the little rabbit encountered both a black bear and a cunning fox. The lotus umbrella was tricked away by the fox. Eventually, the weather changed, and it started raining.

By the time Lin Zhe Xia heard the second half, she was already feeling sleepy. Before the ending, she closed her eyes and asked drowsily, “...What’s the ending?”

Chi Yao flipped the page.

During these few seconds of pause, he heard Lin Zhe Xia’s shallow breathing.

She fell asleep before hearing the ending.

Chi Yao’s eyes, hidden behind his bangs, were illuminated by the screen. Supporting himself, he sat up halfway to look at the person on the sofa.

The girl’s hair was messy, scattered untidily. She was lying on her side, one hand pressed to the side of her face, the other hand hanging off the edge of the sofa. Her slender wrist almost touched his hair.

Chi Yao watched for a while.

The Lin Zhe Xia in front of him gradually overlapped with the Lin Zhe Xia who had once curled up on his sofa during that thunderstorm when they were kids.

But besides that thunderstorm from childhood, he also remembered another scene.

It was the night before starting junior high school.

Lin He’s suggestion for Lin Zhe Xia to attend an all-girls school was entirely because she was too unruly in the neighborhood.

“You’re a girl,” Lin He was exasperated, “chasing He Yang around and hitting him every day—does that look good?”

At that time, Lin Zhe Xia stubbornly lifted her chin: “It’s his fault for asking to be hit.”

Lin He: “How dare you talk back—”

Lin He grabbed a broom, wanting to hit her, but Lin Zhe Xia always managed to run away. Thus, the two often played out a mother-daughter confrontation in the neighborhood.

Lin Zhe Xia: “It’s because he bullied Chi Yao first.”

Lin He: “Then you could reason with him. Why resort to violence?”

Lin Zhe Xia coolly replied: “In a man’s world, problems are solved with fists.”

Lin He laughed in anger, chasing her while shouting: “...Come here, stop running. I’m going to use my fists to solve our problem now. Stop!”

At first, Lin Zhe Xia didn’t think there was any issue with attending an all-girls school. After all, it was just school. But as the start date approached, she realized that everyone else in the neighborhood would attend the same school, meaning they could go to school together, leave together, and even go to the convenience store to buy snacks.

Only she would be alone, in a different school.

The night before enrollment, she finally broke down, crying in front of him for a long time: “I don’t want to go to school alone. I want to go with all of you. I won’t hit He Yang anymore. I’ll reason with him, isn’t that enough?”

She hiccupped while crying.

That night, Lin Zhe Xia said a lot, including one sentence: “...Chi Yao, can you turn into a girl and go to school with me?”

That was one of the few times she showed vulnerability in front of him.

Like her fear of thunder, she had a small heart, feared separations between people, and always lacked a sense of security.

The memory shifted again.

To the junior high school, after filling out the high school entrance exam forms, the teacher called him to the office. The grade director, in his forties, spoke carefully, probing: “Did you accidentally add an extra stroke for schools One and Two?”

“No, I didn’t add an extra stroke,” he heard himself say at that time, “I filled in School Two.”

...

Chi Yao withdrew his gaze and looked at his phone.

He discovered that the story about the little rabbits picking carrots had an ending that was written offhandedly in just one line: When the rain stopped, they finally picked the carrots and happily returned home.

“The rain eventually cleared,” Chi Yao’s voice was soft, “and the little rabbit saw a rainbow. Goodnight, coward.”