Gu Congli was starting to feel a headache coming on.

Holding the phone in one hand, he loosened the belt of his bathrobe and walked over to the wardrobe. Opening it, he pulled out a couple of items casually. “Where are you now?”

Shi Yin slurred nonsensically. “I’m your dad.”

“…”

With his fingers resting on the hanger, Gu Congli’s tone turned cold. “Shi Yin.”

Completely oblivious to the chill in his voice, Shi Yin’s words came out sharper, muffled and indistinct. “What do you want? Calling me ‘Dad’ like that—do you want to rebel or something?”

As she spoke, another loud hiccup echoed through the phone, followed by intermittent thudding sounds and the scuffing of slippers against the floor. She gagged, leaning over the sink as she turned on the faucet. Cold water rushed over her hand.

Gu Congli paused, softening his tone. “Shi Yin, where are you?”

She let out a faint “Mm,” mingling with the sound of running water.

“Are you at home?”

Another vague “Mm.”

Gu Congli slipped on a sweater. “Stay there and wait for me. I’ll be there in ten minutes, alright?”

Shi Yin bristled at his commanding tone. Leaning against the sink, she pointed at the mirror and frowned. “Why are you ordering me around?”

“Don’t wander off. I’ll bring you some fried pork cutlet. Be good.” Gu Congli buckled his belt with one hand, his voice soothing as he coaxed her.

After hesitating for a moment, she began bargaining with him. “Then I also want big intestine noodles.”

“Alright, I’ll get you both.”

________________________________________

Half an hour later, Gu Congli arrived at Shi Yin’s apartment door, unlocked it, and stepped inside.

The house was quiet. The living room overhead light was off, and only a small area near the sofa was illuminated by a floor lamp. Cans of beer littered the coffee table and carpet—some upright, others lying down.

On the coffee table sat an empty bottle of Grey Goose vodka, lemon-flavored.

Shi Yin wasn’t in the living room. The bedroom door was slightly ajar, and a faint light leaked through the gap, accompanied by a soft, barely audible sound.

It sounded like the gentle rush of water.

Gu Congli approached the door, pushed it open, and stepped into her bedroom for the first time. After scanning the room briefly, he headed toward the bathroom, which was still lit.

Shi Yin sat on the closed toilet lid, leaning forward onto the countertop, fast asleep. The faucet was still running, but the drain had been blocked, causing the sink to overflow. Water poured down the sides, pooling on the floor.

Her clothes were almost completely soaked, and her hair on one side, pressed against the counter, was wet too. Despite everything, she slept soundly, undisturbed.

Gu Congli walked over, turned off the faucet, and gently patted her cheek. “Shi Yin.”

She furrowed her brow, pouted, and mumbled incoherently before turning her head to the other side. A soft thud echoed as her head hit the countertop.

Now, the other side of her hair was wet too.

Yet, she still didn’t wake up. Like a small animal, she wriggled slightly before settling back into stillness.

Gu Congli scooped her up horizontally, carried her out of the bathroom, and placed her on the small sofa by the bedroom window. He then turned back to the wardrobe to find some clothes.

A woman’s wardrobe looked nothing like a man’s.

Inside hung dresses and shirts, while below were two rows of transparent long boxes neatly arranged with underwear. Next to them lay piles of thin, white, circular objects.

Gu Congli tilted his head, picked one up, and examined it under the light reflected from the bathroom.

Just then, he glanced up and saw Shi Yin sitting on the sofa, soaking wet, staring at him intently.

After a few seconds of silence, Shi Yin said pitifully, “What are you doing with my bra inserts?”

“…”

Gu Congli calmly returned the item to its box, pulled out a set of underwear, and grabbed a T-shirt. Walking over, he handed them to her. “If you’re awake, change your clothes.”

Shi Yin remained seated on the sofa, saying nothing.

“Do you feel unwell anywhere?” She had consumed an entire bottle of Grey Goose—a forty-proof vodka.

Still, she didn’t respond.

Gu Congli leaned in close, bringing his face within inches of hers.

The girl’s usually sparkling eyes appeared unfocused, her drenched clothes clinging to her body, outlining the delicate lace edges of her lingerie beneath—a faint blue hue.

Gu Congli tossed the clothes onto the sofa and lifted her soaked hair, winding it around his fingers. “Shi Yin.”

Instinctively, she raised her gaze.

“Do you like me?” he asked softly.

Shi Yin tilted her head, looking at him blankly. After a long pause, she muttered slowly, “Like… yes…”

Ever since they’d gotten together, this girl had unconsciously continued to shy away from him, as if she were afraid of him.

Words like these could only be coaxed out of her in moments like this.

Gu Congli smiled faintly, pressing a kiss to her eye—wet and cool, mingling with warm tears.

He froze, lifting his head.

Shi Yin’s eyes were red, glistening at the corners. It was impossible to tell whether they were tears or water. Blinking, large droplets rolled down her cheeks.

Gu Congli pressed his lips together. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”

“Teacher Gu…” Her voice was hoarse, low. “I’m sorry… I’ll never trouble you again… I’m so sorry…”

It took Gu Congli a few seconds to realize what she was referring to.

Girls who seemed slow on the surface were often deeply sensitive inside.

Perhaps without even realizing it herself, the events from high school still weighed heavily on her heart, unresolved to this day.

He raised his hand, brushing away the moisture at the corner of her eyes. Pulling her into his arms, he gently patted her back, smoothing her damp hair. With a soft sigh, he murmured, “You’re such a fool.”

Pushing dry clothes toward her, Gu Congli stood up, found the air conditioner remote, and turned up the temperature. Leaving the bedroom, he headed to the kitchen.

Shi Yin’s pantry was stocked with snacks but lacked ingredients. Gu Congli retrieved a jar of honey from the fridge, prepared a cup of honey water, and grabbed a yogurt. Pushing open the bedroom door, he stepped inside.

As soon as he entered, he caught sight of a stretch of pale skin—straight shoulder lines descending into deep curves that disappeared behind the armrest of the single sofa. The outline of her shoulder blades resembled butterflies about to take flight.

Her back was turned toward the door as she painstakingly tugged at the T-shirt in front of her. Bending forward, her wet head emerged from the hem, worm-like, wriggling into the fabric.

Gu Congli walked over, placing the honey water and yogurt on the windowsill. Reaching into the loose neckline of the T-shirt, he pulled her damp hair free, holding it above her head as he shifted his gaze away.

Like a turtle, her movements were slow and deliberate as she adjusted the hem of the T-shirt. Then, crawling onto the bed with all fours, she obediently rubbed her eyes and collapsed onto the mattress.

“…”

When drunk, she was actually quite docile—no crying, no fussing. At most, she would ramble for a bit before instinctively finding the bed and passing out.

Gu Congli approached, pinching her cheek. “Shi Yin, sit up and drink the honey water.”

She grumbled irritably, kicking her legs as if trying to shove him away.

Wearing only a shirt, her slender white thighs were fully exposed. Perhaps feeling a bit cold, she curled up into a ball, the shirt riding up to reveal the delicate blue lace edges underneath. Her feet twitched slightly, toes unconsciously curling together.

Gu Congli pulled the blanket from the foot of the bed and tucked it around her. He pinched her cheek gently and whispered, “I bought a new bottle of champagne. Do you want some?”

Shi Yin’s eyes were still closed. She must have felt truly awful from drinking so much, as she scrunched up her face and burrowed deeper into the blanket, whimpering softly, “No…”

Her voice was thin, tinged with a hint of grievance and the raspy aftermath of crying.

Gu Congli’s Adam’s apple bobbed, his throat tightening.

Unconsciously, he imagined how this voice might sound in another context—would it drive someone to give her anything she desired?

________________________________________

When Shi Yin woke up the next day, the clock’s hour hand pointed to five. The curtains were tightly drawn, shrouding the room in darkness. The air was thick with the pungent scent of alcohol fermenting after a night of heavy drinking.

There was also a faint trace of something else.

She blinked, taking ten seconds to recall what had happened the previous day. Then, the ever-resilient Shi Yi, who rarely got drunk despite years of social drinking, realized with alarm that her memory was fragmented.

The last hazy recollection was hanging up the phone, rushing to the bathroom, and vomiting into the toilet until she was utterly exhausted. But then…

Wait, who had she called again?

She turned over, reaching for her phone, but froze upon seeing a figure beside her.

Shi Yin finally identified the source of that “other smell” amidst the lingering alcohol fumes.

A faint trace of tobacco, mingled with the scent of plants and paper, along with a subtle musk—the unmistakable scent of a man.

It was intoxicating, indescribable, and uniquely Gu Congli’s—a scent with an addictive quality that made her want to take another whiff.

Drawing from years of reading novels, Shi Yin categorized it as the “pheromone scent of a boyfriend.”

Unable to resist, she leaned closer, observing his features under the dim light of the bedroom.

From his forehead, to his eyelashes, high nose bridge, thin lips, and the sharp outline of his jawline.

Shi Yin had never seen Gu Congli asleep before. Every time she’d encountered him, he’d been awake—calm, rational, obsessive, brooding, or even carrying a hint of aggression.

Like collecting stamps, she gradually gathered glimpses of his different facets. Even as her initial impressions of him crumbled, she found herself feeling lighter.

The closer she got, the more she craved; the more unfamiliar sides of him she discovered, the more at ease she felt.

She thought perhaps she was sick.

After two or three seconds, realization dawned on her.

Shi Yin’s gaze froze as she stared at the man lying on her bed. She glanced down at herself.

She was wearing a T-shirt, no bra underneath, and her legs were bare.

Shi Yin stiffened, yanking open the collar to peer inside.

Her body was clean, without any marks or signs of passionate encounters. There was no soreness in her waist, no stiffness in her back, no cramps in her legs.

She turned her head again, locking eyes with Gu Congli, who was already watching her with his light brown gaze.

He looked at her calmly, his clear, indifferent eyes just as they always were—no trace of sleepiness or fatigue.

Startled, Shi Yin scrambled backward, putting some distance between them. She opened her mouth, then closed it, clearing her throat. “You didn’t sleep?”

Her voice was hoarse.

Gu Congli sat up and handed her the glass of water from the bedside table.

The blanket slid off his body, revealing his bare upper half. In the dim light, his collarbones and shoulder lines were visible from above, while faint outlines of abs and chest muscles could be discerned below—two small—

Shi Yin slapped her hands over her eyes, forgetting all about the water. Her face flushed red, even her ears turning crimson. She stammered, “W-why aren’t you wearing clothes?!”